German bite

It's lager time! This pair was selected from the bottles at Redmonds of Ranelagh. That, their ABV, and their general Bavarianness is about all they have in common.

I've had a Doppelbock from Kloster Scheyern before, but this is my first time with the more modest Kloster-Gold Hell. I'm assuming a very ordinary sort of Helles (Tucher brews it), though the strength is on the high side, at 5.4% ABV. It's a flawless gold in the glass, pale with a hint of aquamarine. Its fine white head crackles audibly, like a TV ad for breakfast cereal. The aroma indicates that it's going to be sweet, adding a sliver of ripe pear to spongecake malt. That high-ish ABV doesn't add much to the body, and it's light. Coupled with the soft sparkle, this is very easy drinking. The somewhat muted flavour also contributes. There's no fancy fruit, just quite a plain base of fresh white bread. Noble hopping is evident in the finish, where there's a rasp of bitterness; leafy like lettuce or raw spinach. I'm not a big fan of that, but it doesn't disturb the beer's equilibrium, in fact it adds to it. This is no superstar, but it's well-made and characterful, providing the fuss-free easy-going comfort-drinking for which I look to Helles.

Hasen Original claims to be a naturally cloudy Kellerbier, though there wasn't much haze in evidence when I poured it, even after giving the bottle a proper jiggle, merely a token skein of sediment. This is a degree darker than the previous, more amber than golden. Still, the head is properly fine and generous, in the Bavarian way, and it's another relatively light beer, gently conditioned to accommodate big satisfying gulps. The Keller side of the offer gets busy right from the start, adding a dry and crisp cracker snap. That doesn't mean it isn't cuddly: a softer layer of bready malt, brown this time, follows the husk, adding a different sort of rustic wholesomeness. Hops don't feature, but I don't mind. The malt-driven flavour is restrained enough to not require balance, and I don't really miss noble hops when they're not present. This is exactly the simple, sessionable, rustic lager that it's presented as. Again, it's not going to blow anyone away with an awesome riot of anything, but it's very nicely done, in a way that you really need to go to Bavarian beer to find.

Neither of these deserves picking apart on some English-speaker's beer blog. They are normal, standard, well-made German beers of the sort one takes for granted over there. I'm sure the price I paid for them in Ranelagh would give a fit of the vapours to any drinker from their locality, but I'm glad to have the option without needing to catch a plane.