Sweetness and dark

The onset of winter seems to have turned their thoughts dark at Wicklow Wolf. I'm delighted by the offerings they've put forward as a result.

At Halloween, the limited edition series reached number 66, and even though we know Satan's own beer style is New England IPA, they've opted for a black IPA: 6.66% ABV and called Devil's Glen. Like many a black IPA before it, including one I made once, it suffers the cosmetic problem of being more dark brown than black. That they haven't packed it out with dark grain shows in a roast-free aroma, full of bright and juicy citrus, pulling the style's neat signature trick of smelling pale. The flavour is drier and somewhat sweet, with chocolate to the fore, plus some oily coffee bean. The hops aren't long behind, and it's juice again: freshly squeezed jaffa, and a hint of smooth vanilla, suggesting that maybe Beelzebub has had an influence on this one after all. We're back to coffee and black toast for the finish. I prefer a bit more punch in this style; more resin and vegetable than is on show here. This one is gentle and somewhat fluffy, very much pitched at the lily-livered hazebois who can't handle grown-up IBUs. You would never guess its strength from the silky texture and zesty hopping. It may be non-conformist, but I still liked it, as a black IPA and as a beer.

And as soon as the spooky decorations disappear from the shops, out come the stacks of chocolate-by-the-bucket for Christmas. Wicklow Wolf has gone one better than Heroes or Celebrations, and teamed up with Butlers Chocolates -- the high end of mainstream confectionery -- for a beer called Truffle Shuffle. I think it's possible that there are some GenXers in decision-making positions at the brewery. It's a milk chocolate stout, of course, though at the reasonable strength of 5% ABV. They claim a silky mouthfeel on the label, and it is fairly smooth, but there's more fizz than one would accept from silk. The aroma is pretty much identical to hot drinking chocolate, while the flavour is heavily influenced by residual sugar. Its chocolate effect, done with cocoa, lactose and vanilla, is powerfully sweet, and I have immediate sympathy with those continental snobs who insist that what passes for chocolate in this part of the world does not have enough cocoa to be counted as such. The actual cocoa here is a bit of an afterthought and there's a lot of sticky, custardy, toffee-like sweetness to deal with first. It will have its fans, I'm sure, but it's a deeply unserious stout, and even The Porterhouse's daft annual Chocolate Truffle Stout has more of the proper stout about it than this does. I wouldn't be rushing to drink it again, but maybe it'll be the gateway for some Butlers fans into the world of independent Irish beer.

In recent years, the brewery has had an annual cycle of seasonal beers, made with ingredients from its own farm: Locavore. However, where the autumn 2025 Locavore should have been, we got instead an extra special bitter titled Locavore Hop Harvest 2025. It looks like the pattern has been revised. Anyway, this is a dark enough shade of amber to fit the post's theme, and is topped by a terribly handsome thick layer of coarse off-white bubbles. Were it not for a slight hazing, this could pass for cask. The aroma mixes earthy Fuggle tones with light caramel. There isn't much caramel to be found in the flavour, however, with the only sweet element arriving late in the finish. Instead, it's raspingly dry, packed with rough tannins and a twiggy, vegetal bitterness. It fits the style specs closely enough, if somewhat light-bodied for 5.6% ABV, but it's missing a richness and roundness that I think would help improve its drinkability. My feeling is that this is for ESB purists only (I know you're out there) and it was just a grade or two too harsh for me.

A big-ass barley wine to finish. The Still Hand has been barrel-aged with ex-Oloroso whiskey barrels from the brewery's neighbours, Glendalough Distillery. It's 13.1% ABV and a very dark red-brown, almost black. It frothed busily on pouring, settling back to just a skim of foam after a minute. The aroma is loose on specifics but indicates clearly that whiskey barrels were involved in the beer's production, with a warmly boozy waft giving hints of cherry and raisin. The flavour is quite wine-like, though more port than sherry, with a chocolate sweetness at the centre, and dark fruit -- add some fig and prune to the raisin and cherry -- around the edges. For all the initial foam, the carbonation is low, struggling to make itself felt beneath the malt weight. A sticky liquorice bitterness is the hops' token contribution. There's a burn on the finish which is the whiskey again, and a consequent warmth grows in one's innards after swallowing. This is seriously wintery stuff and ideal for cockle-warming on a cold day. I thought at first that the strength was excessive, but it makes very good use of it, and I don't think it would have quite the same multidimensional flavour otherwise. The gold lettering on the can implies luxury, and the beer inside delivers fully on that. My branded pint glass felt a little disrespectful: this is a beer for your best stemware.

One too sweet, one too bitter, but two that were just right (if not perfect). Wicklow Wolf is heading to the end of a very good year of beer releases, as regards both variety and quality. Don't leave us hanging on the winter Locavore, though. We're owed.