This post has been a long time coming, and it's all the fault of the brewery's prolific output and nothing to do with my sluggishness in turning notes and drafts into consumable content. So I am, to say the least, several months behind in my coverage of Lough Gill.It all started back in August, with a couple of sunny summer cans. I hadn't seen the word "crushable" in a beer description for quite some time. The word seemed to have a moment back in the craft heyday and appeared on these pages exclusively between 2014 and 2020. Lough Gill deployed it anew for their latest lager, called Rake. I guess the name implies that one can drink it in quantity, though the 5.5% ABV puts it above the level of your standard Irish pint. It's also "west coast" according to the can, single-hopped with Chinook. It looks well, being a dark, almost reddish, golden colour with good head retention. The Chinook is quite shy in the aroma, and instead there's a Czech-like bready malt effect, with maybe a hint of lemon. The Czech impression continues in the mouthfeel, which is very full and almost sticky, something which I would say has an adverse effect on its crushability. It doesn't taste very American; the hop side is all bitterness with very little citric or pine flavour. I tend to think of Chinook as a bittering hop in the main, and that's borne out here. There's a resinous payload which gums up the palate without delivering any accompanying dank enjoyment. Coupled with the big body, that makes this a somewhat cloying affair, far from the session-drinker that the brewery seems to have envisioned it as. Your mileage may vary, but this satisfied neither my need for clean lager, nor for American-style hop fun.
We should have some proper hop fun next, with Sunbrella, brewed with wunderkind hop Krush alongside fruity fellow-Kiwi Nectaron. We're back in Lough Gill's comfort zone with a 6% ABV hazy IPA. "Tropical" it says in all caps on the front, but this is another serious beer, tasting like it has nothing in common with the fruity soft drinks that I imagine the word is intended to convey. The weedy quality is set on another very full body, with an alcohol heat that tastes of all its 6% ABV and more. Here it meets a strongly sweet custard vanilla, but the hops hold their own, creating a proper balance in a type of beer not really known for that. The flavour has similar length and depth as the previous beer but is far more enjoyable, sparking with a mineral spice and citrus pith in addition to the main theme. It's not crushable, and I'm sure it's not meant to be, and neither does it show the bitterly herbal hallmarks typical of New Zealand's more established hop varieties. It is a banger, though: fresh and bright tasting, while warm and soft feeling. Taking my time over it, I did find a certain degree of garlic building up as it warmed, though not to an offensive degree. I don't always enjoy it when Lough Gill does the haze, but they've nailed it here. You don't even need sunny weather to enjoy it.That's hop-forward beers for you: some you win and some you don't. An all-Chinook lager was a courageous flex but I don't think it worked out. The new-wave New Zealand hops continue to impress, however.
A few days after drinking these, I paid a visit to the brewery where they were nearing the end of their winter preparations, with the usual selection of strong dark beers going out again this year. The imperial stouts are joined by a couple of different small cans, though following the usual Gaelic theme which the receiving importers presumably lap up.I haven't seen Emerald for sale at all in Ireland and it may have all gone to the Netherlands, which isn't at all unusual for an Irish beer these days. It says "Irish Export Stout" on the label, and I guess they mean that literally. I tend to expect bitterness from this style: substantial hopping and lots of roast, with any sweet side being burnt caramel or molasses, where there's a darker, more grown-up aspect to the sugar. This one is all-out sweet, however, which was disconcerting. Sticky chocolate sauce builds, even in a small sample, to the point of becoming like pink marshmallows. Lough Gill was an early adopter of kerr-azy pastry stout recipes, but this one shows you don't actually need the daft adjuncts to get the same effect. It's not my sort of thing, regardless.
I was able to buy the next pair locally, beginning with Celtic, an "oak whiskey red ale". Unlike most Irish reds, it's 6.5% ABV, though the clear dark garnet colour checks out. The whiskey side is very strong in the aroma, in a lovely, warming, hot-toddy sort of way. A side order of caramel comes with that, and the caramel takes the lead in the flavour. Though sweet again, it somehow avoids being sticky, showing remarkable restraint. That allows the whiskey side to return in the finish, bringing notes of honeycomb and raisins. Though they've put the word "oak" up front in the description, there's no honking sap or vanilla here; the oak's contribution has been fully integrated into everything else happening, and I would be very hard pressed to pick it out. I assume oak chips rather than barrel ageing is the reason behind the wording. That process does tend to have a much less impactful effect on beer, and I'm impressed that so much of the whiskey side has come through. This is a very pleasant wintertime sipping beer and I can report that a nip of Power's on the side helps enhance its Irish whiskey features even further.
It's a shame that an "Irish breakfast stout" has been named Shamrock rather than "Rasher", but that's the export market for you: no sense of humour. We're up to 7.5% ABV and, as the description implies, oatmeal and coffee have been engaged. I was expecting sweet but the first sip gave me significant bitterness which, after a moment, turned out to be a combination of black toasted grain and dark roast coffee. That would have been severe were it not for the soft malt base behind it, bringing gentler chocolate and golden syrup, with a wisp of rauchbier smoke. Rasher: I'm just saying. There's a bum note too, and to me it tastes autolytic, of Marmite or soy sauce. It might be an effect of the coffee rather than a fermentation flaw, but it didn't sit right with me. In a beer of this sort, I like the coffee to be creamy and oily, contributing more to its sweet side rather than the roast. That doesn't happen here, and it's to the beer's detriment. Shamrock files with the more serious and slightly acrid school of Irish export stouts. Normally I'd be all in, but the savoury tang, whether from coffee or dead yeast, spoiled it for me. It's just as well I still had some Power's left to take the edge off.And it wouldn't be winter without Lough Gill's plethora of little black cans. At the brewery, I got a bit of insight into the process behind these, too. They're all made from the same base, and this year for the first time, they've released it as a standalone: the plainly-titled Imperial Oatmeal Stout. For something developed as a means to a different end, it's an excellent beer in its own right. The checklist for a 10% ABV imperial stout is all there, with lots of chocolate, a dark fruit complexity -- raisin and prune -- and then a decadent liqueur warmth. This is aided by the oatmeal doing exactly what it's supposed to, making the texture silky and cream-like, lengthening the flavour and enhancing the drinking experience. While this is surpassed in different ways by its barrel-aged progeny, it's still worth drinking, especially if you're a fan of the barrel-aged ones. It would be nice to have it available year-round, rather than trying to compete with the elaborate seasonal specials.
Speaking of which: Warrior is among the returning versions for 2025. It's new to me, however, because previous vintages were packaged in spendy 75cl bottles. Moving it to a 33cl can has brought it into my price bracket for the first time. Warrior Warning 1 is that it keeps going up in strength, having started at 12.8% ABV in 2023, it's now a very full 15%. Warrior Warning 2 is that it's peated, pointed out in all-caps on the label. And not just peated: the wood involved previously held the Turf Queen herself, Laphroaig. This is immediately apparent on cracking the can, wafting up vapours of salty seaweed and TCP. The beautifully smooth and rich stout (see above) helps offset the effect in the flavour, but I wouldn't exactly call it balanced. Instead, there are two parallel streams: the unctuous velvety stout, with soft dark malt notes, comforting winter warmth and a distinctive and distinguished smokiness, and then an absolute foghorn of chlorophenols on top of this, like it's been given a jet of disinfectant. The latter arrives late but hangs around on the palate for... well, at time of writing, possibly permanently. You really really need to enjoy peated product to get value out of this one. I do, and even I found it a bit much, especially in the first few sips. I guess there are enough fans of the big smoke to keep it on the market for three winters and counting.
On to new business, and with Solera we depart from the Celtic theme, because it wants to tell you about the sherry brandy barrel, latterly used for whiskey, it was aged in. I assume this is "brandy" in the sense of the not-for-drinking fortification spirit used in making sherry. It's a light one, at a mere 11.9% ABV, though is the usual dense black, of course. The aroma tells us that some barrelling has been going on but is vague on the details. It's more wine fruit than spirit heat. That continues in the flavour, with notes of raisin and fig, while the base beer is still very much in evidence, with its smooth chocolate dessert and affogato coffee and vanilla. I enjoyed the subtlety of it. Even though there's lots going on, every flavour gets a turn, and the brandy complements the stout beautifully. You can take the sumptuous velvety texture as read; likewise the lack of excessive heat or rough oak. This is a future classic and I hope we'll be seeing it again in the years to come. 
There's more wine to be found in Wine Geese, using ex-Bordeaux barrels and referencing the French winemakers of Irish extraction. This one is 12% ABV, though seemed a little thinner on pouring, its café crème head quickly crackling away to nothing. Dried dark fruit features again in the aroma: plump and juicy raisins with sweeter prune, and the flavour allies these with the same blend of chocolate and coffee as the above. So they're similar beers, but different. This one has even less spirit heat despite the extra strength, and although it's quite sweet in the middle, it finishes on a balancing dry roasted note, cleaning it respectfully off the palate. I caught a little splintery oak too, as well as some oily coconut and a mildly meaty twang, suggesting a touch of autolysis. You'd need to be a very fussy drinker to pick those out, or even designate them as off-flavours. It's very hard to find fault here otherwise.
A highlight of the brewery visit was a final new addition to the sequence, one which hadn't got as far as canning yet and was tasted from the tank. With Celt, the imperial oatmeal stout has been given the Cognac barrel treatment, finishing at 12.6% ABV. There's no mistaking the spirit: this opens with a strong kick of distilled alcohol, before softening into that luxurious vinousness that is uniquely Cognac. The stout still manages to hold its own, ensuring that the significant warmth doesn't become a burn, and contributing that beautiful oatmeal texture to combine smooth beer with mature brandy. The finish is surprisingly clean, considering everything going on, and there's a pleasant aftertaste of Christmas jollity. This is an excellent candidate to drink on The Big Day, if I'm allowed mention it this early in November.
It strikes me that a palate reset would be a good idea after all that. At a Sligo off licence on the way to the Dublin train, I picked up some 1928, a Helles that Lough Gill brews in support of Sligo Rovers football team. This is light for the style at 4.2% ABV yet still manages to display all the necessary Helles qualities. It may even over-compensate, its principal malt character going beyond light spongecake and into the full melanoidin effect of treacle cookies and steamed pudding. There's just enough grain-husk crispness to prevent that turning unpleasantly sweet. For a beer that is, presumably, not aimed at the especially particular lager drinker, it has a great deal of character and class.I think that's enough to be getting on with, and a nice broad sweep of what Lough Gill put out, at least in the winter when we're safe from all the fruity gloopy jobs they're a bit too fond of. A big thanks to James at the brewery for showing us around on the day. A taproom is in development which will make Sligo Town even more of a beer destination than great pubs like The Swagman and Thomas Connolly's already make it.
