Rockies II

For the second week in a row I'm starting with a selection of beers from a brewery in Colorado. Odell is rather more familiar than last week's Bootstrap, and its beers are generally top-notch, bordering on iconic in places. I see a couple of potential challenges to that reputation among today's lot.

The "Sippin'" series of sour fruit beers hasn't been Odell's best work, in my opinion. Today we have Sippin' Blackberry: no surprise what the fruit is, but they've also added that pink Himalayan salt, for gosey notions. It's a dirty, murky pink emulsion, with something of a greyish tint. As usual with this sort of beer, the head is gone in moments. The aroma doesn't say much, only a mere suggestion of tart berry. The flavour, too, is understated, and maybe that's for the best. It might have been a sticky cordial, but it's not. The clean flavour includes a definite salinity, so they got some value out of that bonus ingredient. It's only 4.5% ABV and light-textured, with a busy fizz pummelling the palate. I'm guessing the blackberry has mostly fermented out, because there's no more than a trace of it, largely confined to the finish, and not really specifically blackberry; just a generalised hedgerow purple. It's fine. I could happily drink more than this 12oz serve. It's a bit plain to have been shipped from so far away, however.

The next beer is the one which made me particularly apprehensive. I have never understood the appeal of Mexican-style lager to the sort of fussy drinkers who buy beer from the likes of Odell. That it's a degenerate style is evidenced by the front-and-centre role of sweetcorn in the recipe, which gives this one its name: Kernel. It looks like an industrial lager: a bright clear yellow, and we're two-for-two on rubbish head retention. Unlike the last beer, the aroma isn't just minimal, it's non-existent. No surprise there. It has a certain amount of substance, 4.7% ABV providing an acceptable amount of body, so it's not one of those watery ersatz-Mexican affairs that you might find round here in a longneck bottle. That doesn't mean it's good, however. Flavour is hard come by. A little malt-syrup sweetness; maybe a hint of dry grain husk, but not enough of either to give the beer anything I would call character. I was genuinely tempted to squeeze a wedge of lime into it, just so it would have something going on. You would want to be a superfan of Odell, this style, or both, to make it any way worth your while. For me, like the last one, there's just not enough taste action.

That meant all expectation was on the final beer, a double IPA. They couldn't possibly not deliver here. Wire Walker is 8% ABV and specifies that it's in the west coast style. And they mean it too: it's very nearly as clear and golden as the lager. Finally, a worthwhile aroma: it's a classic citrus bite, blending oil and zest. That heralds a very old-school flavour, in quite a delightful way. Before anything else there is malt. While not the full-on toffee sweetness of crystal, there's a honey or golden syrup character, adding weight and texture but not so much heat. The hop bitterness is next, and it's perfectly balanced: punchy without turning harsh. The initial hit softens rapidly, grapefruit and pine fading to sherbet lemons and Seville orange marmalade. For such a strong beer it's incredibly drinkable, and I reckon it's the balance that does it. In particular, making the malt a major part of the offer is one of those ideas, along with cleanness and clarity, that lead commentators like me to opine that IPA has lost its way somewhat, here in the haze age. This beer is how it used to be done, and it was good. I guess it isn't madly dissimilar to Odell's magnificent flagship IPA, but I haven't had that in a while, so a reminder about it is always welcome.

I was right to be suspicious. Fruity sour ale and Mexican-style lager are not things that even a brewery of Odell's calibre is likely to excel at. Double IPA, however, is right in their wheelhouse. Here it's delivered crisp and tangy, in what's now essentially a heritage manner. Far be it from me to suggest any brewery stick to what it knows best, but if IPAs made you famous, maybe do more of that.