Half time scores

It's three months since the most recent JD Wetherspoon beer festival, and three months to go until the next one. I thought this would be an opportune moment to have a look at what's been new (to me) in the Dublin branches. 

Moorhouse is a regular at the chain and Pendle Witches Brew is a beer I've certainly heard of, but was surprised to find I'd never drank. "Strong ale" is something of a rare style, although this is down at the bottom end of it — 5.1% ABV — where it could equally be badged as a hefty bitter. The golden brown colour adds to that initial impression of twigginess, likewise its slightly soapy aroma. The flavour is altogether more light and breezy, presenting a fruity mix of currants and cherries, on a medium-dry malt base with a tannic bite. Think tea brack, but with some English hops adding an earthy bitterness to the finish. And while it may not be by-the-numbers strong, it presents a fullness and warmth which makes the description valid. It took me most of the pint to decide whether or not I liked it, and I do. This could have gone wrong in any number of ways, and that it's not a hot mess of burnt caramel and marker pens is a win. I approve of Wetherspoon serving a beer that's in broadly the same niche as the ubiquitous Abbot Ale but isn't, y'know, terrible.

Branscombe from Devon is a new brewery for me, producer of Summa That, a pale ale pitched at the scholastic theologian demographic. It's strong for an English beer in this style, at 5% ABV, but doesn't have the malt depth to be a strong ale. The colour is dark gold rather than amber, and the flavour hop-forward, although not quite the right kind of hop forward. It's sharp, and almost a little vinegary, with tart berries instead of bright citrus. I got a sense that it should be softer and more rounded, because there's a certain cakey warmth too. That doesn't go far enough to balance the bitterness, however. The end result is quite a severe beer, one which I think should be mellower. The brewery's description says it tastes of mango and pineapple but they've used the wrong hops for that. If tropical was the intention this recipe needs to go right back to the drawing board.

It's always good to see a cask stout, it being a style that works especially well in this format. At The South Strand I found Top Dog from Burton Bridge. This is a full 5% ABV which is also pleasing, but has the same sort of light sessionability as the Irish archetypes. That also means it's no great shakes as regards complexity, however. They keep it simple with a black breadcrust, leaning to charcoal, dry grain roast, a pinch of cocoa powder and some mild fruit esters — blackcurrant and plum — in the aroma. The roast gives the foretaste an invigorating sharpness before it tails off cleanly. This is simple, well-made and enjoyable. A higher finishing gravity and a bit more cream in the texture might have improved my experience, but equally I could have happily charged through a few pints in succession.

Instead, it was across town to Keavan's Port, for more pale ale. Portobello APA is another 5%-er, a limpid gold but rather lacking in head, which spoils the appearance. Tch, London. It's another very easy-drinking beer despite the strength, and the flavour verges a little on bland. It certainly doesn't taste American. The aroma is citric, I will grant it that, but with a honey malt background that says pale (northern) English bitter to me. A light texture leads to a sharp and slightly severe bitterness, throwing the taste out of balance briefly, before a rapid fade-out into watery nothing. I think I can taste what the beer is trying to be, but it ends up as a sad mélange of zesty American zing and smooth English warmth, without harnessing either aspect particularly well. It's not the first Portobello beer to have missed the mark for me, but of course I'll give them another chance when the occasion arises.

The Wetherspoon app advertised yet another 5% ABV pale ale — American Pale Ale by Tonbridge — at The South Strand, but when I got there the clips were showing the Portobello one. This was definitely a different beer, however, being full-bodied and front-loaded with colourful tropical flavours, showing pineapple in particular. The same is very apparent in the aroma, and the head is pleasingly long-lasting. Part two of the flavour kicks in shortly after the initial sweet and fruity rush, adding an assertive bitterness, and a very Kentish sort, being waxy, earthy, and saved only from harshness by the beer's pillowy texture. It's luck of the draw, but this one delivered on things that the previous two pale ales could only promise.

Finally, Stonehenge has never been among my favourite English ale brewers, and Pigswill is hardly the most enticing of names. But this 4% ABV bitter was pouring blissfully cold at The South Strand during the May heatwave, which immediately got it on my good side. And it's not a bad beer, though I question its technical proficiency, since it tastes primarily of apple — hard and green — with a dry tannic backing. It's all cool and clean to begin with, but does build rather on the palate, leaving too much apple residue behind. Hop flavour doesn't really feature, though at least it's dry enough to not present as sweet, with no unwelcome toffee or twigs. A pint was tolerable; the name is excessively modest and far from an accurate description, but it hasn't changed my opinion of the brewery. Civilians may enjoy it, although anyone who has ever written "acetaldehyde" on a marking sheet and deducted points for it, would be better ordering something else.

That's it for now. I'll have more British cask beers next week, but this time I'll travel to them.