The IPA way

There's not normally much of a gap between new Sierra Nevada beers, but this can of Mellow Little Thing had been sitting in the back of my fridge since July, with no sign of any companions for it. Last week I decided it's not getting any better in there, so it was time to drink it.

This is one of the Little Things that doesn't stray far from the original. It's a straight-up hazy IPA, and the name is presumably a reference to it being 4.5% ABV, against Hazy Little Thing's more substantial 6.7%. It's a bright pale yellow and, in the Sierra Nevada large-brewery way, is not opaquely murky but more gently translucent. It smells pithy, which is not a typical haze attribute, and the flavour is small and uncomplicated. I guess that's what they mean by "mellow" but it's quite a euphemism. The pith remains the main thing to taste, even though it's barely present. That tang also suggests soluble vitamin tablets and sugar-free orangeade. Looking closely, I found an even slighter note of citrus fruit flesh, but that's very brief. The finish includes an unpleasant hot gritty dreg element which makes me feel hard done by, given how low-key the haze look and flavour are.

Lacklustre, is the word for this. It's not often that I have a problem with a Sierra Nevada pale ale, but this one has had all the goodness compromised out of it. The brewers may not be aware that cracking hop flavour can be delivered at 4.5% ABV, but they ought to be.

And, of course, as soon as I had that review cued up, two more new Sierra Nevada IPAs hove into view. Although, when Northern Hemisphere IPA appeared at Tapped I assumed I'd had it before. There has certainly been a lot of fresh-hopped Sierra Nevada passing this way over the years, but none with this specific name, so a-ticking we will go.

The first surprise was the beautiful copper colour: very unusual for this day and age, but the brewery tends to do poorly when trying to follow recent fashion (viz. the above), so I'm glad to see it. There's no more than a mild earthy spice in the aroma. That had me guessing Cascade but it turns out to be Centennial. Still in the classic C-hop genre, then. As one would expect, there's a bright and zesty lemon sherbet kick to the foretaste, with a more assertive lime-peel acidity building behind it. The caramelised malt doesn't interrupt this with much sweetness, although it's plenty heavy at 6.7% ABV, making it more satisfying to drink. A nod to English bitter or strong ale comes via a finishing rasp of black tea tannins.

All told, it's classic Sierra Nevada material, and while I'm sure it was best before leaving the US, its transatlantic journey hasn't spoiled my enjoyment of those fresh hops.

Keeping it classic, Sierra Nevada has also released West Ghost IPA, which I almost missed on the offy shelf, since the can lacks distinctive Sierra Nevada branding. They describe it as a "modern" west coast IPA, and for once that doesn't mean it's hazy, or at least not very. There's some juice in the aroma, however: it smells of peach and pineapple, with a mildly pithy afterburn. The pith muscles its way to the front for the flavour. It's no pine-bomb, but I'll happily grant it west-coast status, for the dry citrus and mineral bite. The malt isn't doing much here, and there's very little sign of its 7.2% ABV, but what it lacks in substance, it gains in drinkability. This is a softly spoken ghost; low-impact but just tasty enough. Proper Sierra Nevada, in other words.

I'm sure I've said it before, but this brewery does its best work when staying in its lane of clean and hoppy beers. I'm also sure I've complained in the distant past that this is a quite a boring state of affairs, but now: what's rare is wonderful.