Five stragglers

At time of writing, a bit over a week ago, there was still no sign of any new beers from Ireland's breweries in 2026. I'm sure that has changed by the time you read this. It's left me with a rump of a pale ale round-up that's been sitting in my drafts since I published the last one, at the beginning of December. Time to clear the decks. 

For its winter special, Hopfully has avoided all things dark and barrel-aged and given us a pale ale called Snowboard. It does have a bit of heft to it, 5.1% ABV being stronger than the norm for Ireland. It's quite a murky emulsion in the glass, the charmless beige-orange of earwax. Still, there's plenty of charm in the aroma: Columbus, Amarillo and Rakau are advertised, and its the New Zealander which comes out tops first, giving lots of fresh-cut grass and mineral oils, backed by milder citrus juice. The flavour is unexpectedly dank, coating the palate in delicious resins from the first sip. Fruit follows again, this time fresh-squeezed orange juice and tinned peaches. A typically hazy vanilla aspect manifests in the finish, alongside a tiny tang of the kerosene I found in the aroma. I might have liked a bit of bitterness here, but while the beer may not be balanced, exactly, it's still very tasty. Did we need yet another Ambush-a-like on the market? Probably not. But if we're going to get one regardless, I'm glad it's done this well. Props also to the student illustrator (Laurynas Butkus) who created the very cool label design, and of course to Hopfully for commissioning it. Putting named human artists front and centre in their branding, as they have always done, is even more of a noble act these days than it was when they started.

Wide Street has created a new edition of its 2021 black IPA, Neo-Noir, last seen here. There are several differences to the original, but the headline one is the inclusion of Amarillo as its main hop. The ABV has risen slightly, to 5%, and on pouring it turned out quite brown, unlike the previous version's pure black. Roasted grain at tar intensity is the aroma's most prominent feature, but there's a sizeable fresh hop buzz too, a spicy, slightly sulphurous leafy note. You get more of that hopping in the flavour, in a big way. The bittering is quite extreme: a hard resinous burn, and not the sort of thing I associate with zingy old Amarillo. Not that I'm complaining: I really enjoy this sort of aggressive black IPA. The acidity is mouthwatering, while the roast adds a gorgeous, savoury, barbecue seasoning. Maybe a little citrus sunshine would have lightened it nicely, but I'm happy in the dark. This is a connoisseur's black IPA, above entry level. More please.

From black to red, Hōne's is a red IPA from Irish brewing's Lazarus act, Eight Degrees. Named for an 18th century Maori politician with an affinity for the Irish, it's intended as an Irish red ale (a style whose roots are in IPA, as everyone knows) hopped with Rakau and Wakatu (formerly Hallertau Aroma) from New Zealand. 5.2% ABV is a bit beefy for an Irish red, but since most are dreadful watery affairs, that's fine by me. It's a clear, bright red colour with a thin skim of head. The aroma is a sweetly herbal red liquorice effect which is exactly what I expect from red IPA. It's not sticky, however. In fact, the mouthfeel is remarkably light, bringing it in danger of being watery, like a real Irish red. That has a knock-on effect on the hops, muting them. I don't really get the grass and minerals of German-derived Kiwi hops, just a fairly generic tang, reminding me most of the darker sort of English bitter which, again, is where the Irish red style is rooted. This is decent but inoffensive stuff. I definitely expected more poke: red IPAs tend to go big on the caramel malts and big on the resinous hops, a combination I have often found difficult to enjoy. This is mellower, which is good, but doesn't bring enough flavour from either side of the equation to be properly enjoyable. If you'd told me in advance that it's like a red IPA but less extreme, I'd have been all in favour. Now that I have it in front of me, I can see why cranking up the volume knob makes these, if not better, then at least more interesting. It's well-intentioned but I'm not a fan.

I'm throwing an American-style wheat beer into this lot because, meh: close enough, and I don't know where else to put it. This is IBU American Wheat, a recent addition to a range Rye River brews for Tesco. A decade or so ago the brewery began making one of these, at the exact same 5% ABV, for Lidl. My review at the time shows that one as quite an amber colour, though more recent photos online indicate that it has become paler in the meantime. This one is definitely pale, so I'm assuming it's the same beer you can buy at Lidl, and that the recipe has changed enough since 2016 to justify me writing about it again.

A fresh and zesty aroma starts things off well. It has a lovely soft and rounded texture, exactly the sort of thing one hopes to get when wheat is involved. 5% ABV is perhaps strong for a supermarket own-brand, but as usual, there's nothing basic or compromised about the way Rye River makes them. That strength is put to good use creating the body, and also driving the flavour. It tastes full-on pithy: powerfully citric, though more lemon than grapefruit. It stops short of turning harsh, the wheat once again helping, softening the bitterness while leaving the flavour intact. Towards the finish, the lemon turns to candy, adding a sweeter aspect which improves its drinkability. The end result is a characterful crowd-pleaser, not especially complex, but delivering bright and fresh American hops in a streamlined and accessible way. This seems to be a thoroughly unfashionable beer style these days, which is a shame because it's a lovely twist on pale-and-hoppy. Fair play to Rye River who, with their own-label Coastal and Backwaters, now has four of them on the Irish market on a permanent basis. Quality beats fashion every time.

Finally for today, Symmetry is the newest west coast IPA from Galway Bay. It's 6.7% ABV, which I don't consider strong enough to warrant the mandated 33cl serve at The Beer Temple, but I'm sure they know what they're doing. It's properly transparent, so earns west coast points there, but is also surprisingly juicy in the foretaste, like orangeade, with a soft texture. The bitterness arrives only gradually as it goes along, though it's properly to style, with the right amount of punchy grapefruit and pine spice. It's enjoyable, but I would have preferred something a bit sharper and more mouthwatering. That's nitpicking, however. It's an enjoyable beer, and I would have liked a pint of it, had that been on the menu.

There we are now. Mostly. I did single out one other beer, originally intended for this post, to give it some special treatment. Stay tuned for that on Wednesday.