No stopping the hopping

For a dead brewery, Hopfully has sure been busy. The switch back to being a client brewer has seen no let-up in the release schedule, and this past autumn has seen four new ones.

The Vase arrived in mid-September, and is badged as a "west coast pale ale". Alas, it's a very Hopfully idea of "west coast", including oats in the grist and pouring with a very definite haze, even if it's not fully opaque. The hops are Amarillo, Citra and Mosaic, and the latter is dominant in the aroma, on its best behaviour with lots of juicy cantaloupe and passionfruit. There's not much juicy about the flavour, however, and maybe that's where the west coast element comes in. The Mosaic switches to its dry, caraway seed mode and there's a spiky citric bitterness which I suspect is the Citra's doing. It was a shock after the aroma, but I settled into it quickly and found myself enjoying it. The ABV is only 4.9% and it's a little on the thin side, with a slightly excessive amount of fizz, but it's refreshing and invigorating, just as the style is meant to be. Bold hops in a small package is to be celebrated. Well played, Hopfully.

Expectations were therefore high when the next pair landed. First open was Let It Drop, a 5.2% ABV IPA. It's hopped with Citra and Ekuanot, and also uses chit malt, which I had to look up. It's a malt with higher than usual protein and starch, used to boost the body of hazy IPAs. And this beer is, of course, hazy: a bright and sunny opaque yellow. There's a juice-laden yet sharp aroma, suggesting that the Citra is in control again. No harm. Although it has a certain bite of lime in its flavour, it's predominantly sweet, with a substantial degree of vanilla next to the citrus. It's a familiar flavour profile, done in a million other mid-strength hazy IPAs, though the execution is flawless, with none of the usual off flavours I complain about. The result is clean and easy drinking, but with bags of fresh hop complexity; unfussy, but far from dull. I don't mind the lack of originality at all. Good beer is good beer.

Released alongside it was Forest. It looks similar, though is a smidge duller than the previous beer. The ABV goes up to 5.6%, Columbus and Galaxy are the hops, and of course there's more chit malt. The aroma has much less to say, giving me a sniff of savoury spring onion but little else. The first taste is shockingly bitter, and while I'm sure the hops have a lot to do with that, it also tastes dreggy: of dry plaster dust and leafy hop detritus. I did my best to look beyond this, and while there's a certain pine resin element, it's doesn't have the zing and sparkle that good American IPAs show when they go this way. Columbus is not very fashionable, but I've enjoyed its peppery dankness in the past; Galaxy ought to bring orangeade and marmalade fun. There's no fun of any kind in this harsh and acrid beast, and it's a world away from the sunshine dessert of the last one. At least I can't accuse the brewer of turning out samey beers. My diagnosis is that they attempted to go big with hop varieties that aren't really meant for that. The technical aspects of the beer are fine, but the recipe is wildly unbalanced towards raw bitterness, and that's not what anyone wants from hazy IPA, and probably any IPA for that matter.

It's not all haze 'n' hops at Hopfully, and an export stout brings up the rear: the 6.7% ABV Black Balloon. This is one of my favourite beer styles, one that sits perpetually on the periphery of the mainstream in Ireland, with Leann Folláin, Nocturne and Guinness West Indies offering that extra boost on the pint of plain in bottled form. This is slightly stronger than those 6%-ers though it looks the part, being properly black with an old-ivory head, albeit one which doesn't last terribly long. Sweet and sticky molasses start the aroma off right, telling us that the beer will be a sipper. I'm on board with that. The mouthfeel is beautifully full, providing a broad base to propel the stout flavours. That's coffee first: raw ground beans; bitter and oily. Some light chocolate and hazelnut sweetness comes behind, before a kick of green vegetal hops, for a proper, old-fashioned, grandad's stout. They may as well have packaged it with twenty Capstan and a well-worn cardigan. That's not to say it's a comfortable beer. This is serious stuff, bitter of roast and of hops and of general demeanour. The finish leaves scorchmarks of hot tar and burnt toast across the palate, and yet is clean with no excess heat. For a couple of Brazilians to rock into Ireland and make old-school stout better than most native breweries is quite an achievement. I'm very glad Hopfully is still around to do that.

It seems the price of one top-notch stout is three samey hazy pale ales. If that's the exchange rate then, frankly, I'll take it.