Nothing naughty

A pre-Christmas visit to the Rascals taproom in Inchicore turned up a couple of new releases, their first for me since the summer.

I'm old enough to recall when microbreweries making something they described as "Mexican lager" meant a beer which was crisp and, often, a dark-ish amber colour, drawing influence from central European lager traditions. At some point they seem to have collectively decided that "Mexican" means there's lime in it, as though the habit of sticking a lime wedge in clear-glass longnecks wasn't something we beer snobs deride. Rascals Lime Light is 4% ABV and includes lime zest in the recipe. Lime and light: I see what they did there. My expectations weren't high, but they've done a good job with the concept. For one thing, the citrus is not especially prominent, adding quite a subtle tang to the whole. It's a bit of character, rather than the beer's whole deal. The beer behind it has a decent malt substance, maybe not quite like an Austrian lager, but certainly no clone of mass-market, brewed-under-licence, pseudo-Mexican crap. A lightly floral hopping is just as much part of the taste as the lime. This is a delightful summer refresher, and a ray of sunshine on a dismal winter evening.

Recently launched in cans, but on tap at the brewery, was Freewheelin', a hazy IPA with New Zealand hops. That's quite an interesting concept, and combines haze's sweet vanilla with a more spiky herbal hop bitterness. There's not so much of either that they clash, and the result is all very complementary and integrated. Although it's a substantial 5.8% ABV, I found this very straightforward and drinkable, entirely in keeping with the chosen name. Anyone looking for those big Kiwi flavours may be disappointed, but it's just not one of those beers. Think Trouble's Ambush with a bonus antipodean spicy twist. As far as I know, it's a special edition, but Rascals has form on making such things permanent. This could be a candidate.

I had just missed the apricot double IPA so was a little disappointed there was nothing properly strong to finish. Instead, there was the welcome return of Breakfast of Champions coffee stout for dessert. Something for everyone (by the pint) at Rascals.

End of

Oof. I'm glad I'm not in the business of making predictions, because the things I merely hoped for in this post last year did not work out. No, don't go and check; let's leave 2024 in the rear view mirror, with 2025 now ready to join it.

It's time to run through the highlights of the year just gone in the time-honoured (17 years!) fashion. My trusty assistant for the work at hand is Brewers At Play 48 from Kinnegar. It's a 10% ABV barley wine so should be up to the task. It's as viscous as one might expect, pouring slowly and forming a thick puck of cream-coloured foam over a murky mahogany-red body. The aroma combines bready malt warmth with some summery fruit: cherry and red grape in particular, a reminder that the style was named for its mimicry of wine. It opens with a bitter, herbal bite, something like a brightly-coloured Italian aperitif, with a hint of oak vanilla too, even though it hasn't seen the inside of any barrels. That settles but never quite goes away, while the fruit from the aroma makes a return, forming the centre of the flavour. The brewery says plum, and I get that, but I think it's more intense, suggesting damson, blackcurrant and raisin. Towards the end there's some pepper and nutmeg spicing, meaning there's a very decent degree of complexity on offer here. Coupled with the heavy texture, it's a sipper for sure. That's copperfastened by a growing warmth as it progresses. You don't need me to tell you this is a beer to take time over, and there's lots to explore and ponder. But I have a different sort of pondering to do. 

And so, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats and pray silence for...

The Golden Pint Awards 2025

Best Irish Cask Beer: Otterbank: The Magic Road 
It hasn't been a bad year for Irish cask, with Lough Gill and Brehon Brewhouse joining Hopkins & Hopkins in the rotational cask selection at Dublin's Porterhouse branches. The winner comes from a festival, however: Belfast, last month. Otterbank presented The Magic Road as a strawberry sour beer but there's was much more happening than that short description conveys.

Best Irish Keg Beer: Wide Street: Cuvée Spontanée
This could also have been a cask contender, though was a little green when first presented, at the Mullingar Wild Beer Festival in April. By Hagstravaganza four months later, it shone on keg, delivering by-the-numbers classic oude geuze flavours.

Best Irish Bottled Beer: Rye River: Grafters Nightshift
Dunnes Stores takes a gamble on the American-style brown ale that Rye River previously supplied to Lidl. I hope it stays here longer, because the combination of brightly floral hop fun with indulgent chocolate is rather special, while the teeny price tag is almost unique for a beer of this quality. Please do your bit to keep it on order at Dunnes. A very honourable mention goes to WhiteField for their joyously no-nonsense Irish Stout.

Best Irish Canned Beer: Lough Gill: North Star
Unsurprisingly, there were lots of contenders for this one. Lineman cornered the market for hop-forward styles, Third Barrel aced the lagers, but Lough Gill continues to reign supreme in imperial stouts, and gave us a dizzying array to choose from. Sherry-aged Solera was a strong contender, but the one with the Christmas spices -- crucially, not overdone -- was my top preference.

Best Overseas Draught Beer: 't Pomphuizeke: Peper Lambiek
Preference is an important factor in these awards. I'm not saying that the spiced lambic from a Belgian brewery I'd never heard of was the best overseas draught beer by any objective measure, but it's very much the sort thing I like, and enjoy finding when it's done well. This one, from this year's Borefts Beer Festival, goes full-on novelty while still retaining its core lambic character. Superb.

Best Overseas Bottled Beer: Tommie Sjef: Flint
More sour beer from the same festival. No gimmicks here, just spontaneously fermented and barrel-aged flavours, exactly the way I like them. A reminder that lambic, and lambic-a-likes, don't necessarily need spices to taste spicy.

Best Overseas Canned Beer: Dois Corvos: Magnetic Poles
The Portuguese brewery puts a dent in my theory that classic lager styles are best not given wacky, craft-era, recipe twists, with this tonka'd up Baltic Porter. What if tonka, but just the right amount? This is the first beer I've ever encountered that's done that.

Best Collaboration Brew: DankHouse and De Molen: Dank & Dutchies
Is it just my imagination or did black IPA have a wee bit of a resurgence this year? Not much, but it seemed noticeable. Not all of them were great, but this collaboration for Borefts was everything the style ought to be, which is a near guarantee of an award from me. 

Best Overall Beer: Cuvée Spontanée
One does not simply walk into the brewhouse and begin making beer like this. Wide Street's abundant enthusiasm for the style and years of honing its processes has paid off handsomely, and I think that deserves recognition. In place of proper recognition, however, I can offer only this meaningless plaudit. Bottled Cuvée Spontanée is out and about at the moment, and deserves to be snapped up.

Best Branding: Wicklow Wolf
I've long been a fan of the way Wicklow Wolf presents itself, and there have been some lovely variants on its consistent house style this year. The contrasting colours on the tap badges for Pacific Heights and Cliff Walk looked striking side-by-side at Tapped back in April, while the glow-in-the-dark Halloween label and the Troy Parrott football celebration lager showed a wonderful sense of fun.

Best Pump Clip: Galway Bay: Forbidden Cats
More fun from Galway Bay too. Rock on, racoon!

Best Bottle/Can Label: Hopfully: Snowboard
For the second year on the trot, the best label goes to a beer I haven't published a review of yet. This was the work of Laurynas Butkus, a student at the National College of Art & Design. I loved the geometry and economy of the picture. I hope we'll be seeing more of his work on future Hopfully beers. And indeed, more named artists on beer label smallprint generally.

Best Irish Brewery: Lough Gill
I've never gone back to count the number of Golden Pints that Francesco Sottomano is responsible for throughout his years at various Irish microbreweries, but I bet it's a few. This year he has been absolutely killing it at Lough Gill across a range of styles and formats. I hope the team up in Sligo enjoys making the beers as much as I enjoy drinking them; they have a lot to be proud of. 

Best Overseas Brewery: Hill Farmstead
This award is on the strength of only three beers (one of them, yes, at Borefts) but they confirmed my conviction that Hill Farmstead is not a brewery whose beers one passes by when they're available. Their output is quite different to how European breweries do the whole wild beer thing, but if there are more operators like this in the US, please send those our way too.

Best New Brewery Opening 2025: Priory
It's a re-opening rather than an opening -- the kit in Tallaght hasn't moved an inch since it was installed in 2017, but this year it exited an extended Covid-era suspension and began brewing again for its new onsite taproom and tank bar at the Priory Market food court. The beers have largely been excellent too, with particular shouts-out for the Helles and stout.

Pub/Bar of the Year: La Fleur en Papier Doré
Another welcome back to a long-closed establishment. I was delighted to be able to enjoy a beer at this Brussels icon back in the spring, making it my favourite pub experience of the year.

Best New Pub/Bar Opening 2025: Daphni
A tough category, with openings of good beer outlets very much in negative growth around here -- RIP UnderDog. The new bar from Animal Collective, at Bolands Mills, wins by default, though I was genuinely impressed, by both its beer offer, and the setting: it's the sort of high quality renovation of an old industrial site that we don't see enough of in Dublin.  

Beer Festival of the Year: Borefts
It supplied three of the award winners above, so it shouldn't be a surprise that De Molen's festival gets this prize again. Third year running, but last year ever, following the brewery's closure in September. The field is open for 2026.

Supermarket of the Year: SuperValu Sundrive
The era of specialty beer being one of the front lines in the endless War of the Supermarkets is long over, but nobody seems to have told my local SuperValu. It continues to stock a first-rate range of core beers from Irish breweries, as well as solid classics from Belgium, the UK and further afield.

Independent Retailer of the Year: Martin's of Fairview
I only trekked up to the far distant northside on a couple of occasions this year, but I came away both times with beers I hadn't expected to find, or didn't know existed. Add in their fondness for commissioning special beers from local breweries, and you have everything you want from a neighbourhood offy. If only it were in my neighbourhood.

Online Retailer of the Year: Craft Central
Four years running. I'm not even going to pretend there's anyone else in contention. I click the beers, I pick them up, and the rest of this blog flows from there, by and large.

Best Beer Book or Magazine: Filthy Queens
It's the battle of the books this year, with two works of beer history, taking very different approaches. Kudos must go to Martyn Cornell's monumental Porter & Stout: A Complete History. It was a slog to read, but even before I finished it, I was using it as a reference resource. It will stand for the ages, and double-fastens the author's legacy. Christina wins on narrative grounds, however. Her book is one of people and their stories, rather than cold numbers and diagrams. It's an account of the real lives lived by the people -- mostly women, it must be said -- who brewed and sold Ireland's beer down through the ages. There has not been a beer book like it.

Best Beer Blog or Website: The Drunken Destrier
I had this flagged for greatness since the spring, but the flurry of entertaining beer reviews petered out in late May. In the hope of some revived activity -- I mean, how hard is it to drink a beer and write down what it tastes like? -- I'm slinging a Golden Pint in Kill's direction.

Simon Johnson Award for Best Beer Twitterer: barmas.bsky.social
Yeah, it's mostly for the dog pictures, but you knew that.

Best Brewery Website/Social media: Rye River
This was the year that I made a firm and final break with Twitter, in favour of doing much the same sort of timewasting on Bluesky instead. Like the media outlets I used to follow, not many breweries have made the switch, but Rye River have, and regularly post their beer news and other fun stuff from around the brewery. I'm hoping to see more of my favourite producers posting to The Nice Place in 2026.


And with that, the awards table is empty for another year. Thanks for reading in 2025, and here's to more award-worthy beer in the year to come.

The Christmas menu

I hadn't noticed before that Wetherspoon publishes a quarterly leaflet of its upcoming seasonal rotational beers. Maybe it's a new practice, but it's great for us tickers. In the run-up to Christmas, I did some hunting around the Dublin branches for the late 2025 offerings.

That started with the appropriate Winter Draws On, by Brewsters. It's only 4% ABV and promises citrus and spice, so is one of those English winter ales. Still, it looks cosy with its warm copper glow. The citrus manifests as dried peel, like fruitcake mix without any of the actual cake. Complementing the lightly fruity bitterness is a tea-like dryness, adding a refreshment quality that isn't very seasonal but is very pleasant. This is a clean, characterful and well-balanced session beer, exactly the sort of thing that I associate with Brewsters. Your cockles won't be warmed but your thirst will be slaked.

A rare visit to The South Strand brought me Evil Elf by Rudgate. I would be quite willing to bet that this golden ale appears under a different name during the summer, because it has a very sunny disposition. Zesty, and slightly oily, lemon forms the aroma and continues in the foretaste. It's not bitter, however, tasting more like lemon candy than actual citrus fruit. The sweet side grows gradually, adding notes of honey and golden syrup. It verges on sticky but its modest 4% ABV keeps it on the right side of drinkable. This is solidly made and devoid of seasonal daftness. There's no way any sensible brewery would only roll out such a straightforwardly enjoyable recipe at Christmas.

Advent Ale is from Titanic, the brewery abandoning its sinking ship theme for the season of goodwill. This 4.6%-er is a medium gold in the glass and smells sweetly spicy, hinting at clove and nutmeg. Those spicy oils are present in the flavour but pleasingly low-balled, hinting at their presence but not the beer's whole thing. Unfortunately, the beer doesn't have a whole thing, its base tasting to me like a rather plain blonde ale: honey-sweet, gently floral, but otherwise nondescript. I guess Christmas beer doesn't have to be dark and strong, though at the same time I don't really get the point of doing them pale and light, except there's presumably a market for them. File this inoffensive chap with the other cod-seasonals, made for spring rugby and... actually, is that the only other time English breweries make lacklustre tie-in beers? Answers in the comments.

So far, so sessionable, but where are those big winter warmers? Otter's Otter Claus brings us all the way up to 5% ABV and is a wholesome-looking dark amber colour. Alas, it doesn't go anywhere special in the flavour, being the same as any number of malt forward, medium-dark, strong bitters. To wit, there's toffee, black tea, burnt caramel and a token measure of orange peel and meadow flowers from distinctly English hops. It reminds me a bit of Wetherspoon staple Abbot Ale but is much more enjoyable; lighter on the caramel and more drinkable as a result. It left me feeling a bit stiffed on Christmas vibes, but it's a decent beer. While it may be a brown bitter, I don't think it can be accused of being twiggy or boring. For €2.60 the pint, I have little to complain about here.

It's not all red suits and reindeer in the seasonal offerings. I also had my second encounter with the Bateman's sub-brand Salem, and their Dark Fruits porter. It's actually surprising that more cask breweries aren't taking a pop at Titanic's Plum Porter market share. I didn't get to try them side by side, but I deem this a worthy adversary. The berries are very prominent in the flavour, a jammy damson and cherry effect with just the right amount of restraint on the sweet side and a mild blackcurrant tartness. In proper Titanic style, the base is velvety smooth with oodles of creamy milk chocolate. The depth and roundness of its texture is especially impressive, given it's only 4.6% ABV. Mouthfeel for days. My one pint wasn't long being sunk, and while I'm not sure that a second would have been as enjoyable, in other circumstances I would have been quite prepared to try it. Quality stuff, this, and I say that as a fruit porter sceptic.

Ramping up the strength and the blackness, next is Hammerhead Stout by Nottinghamshire brewery Milestone. This is a very full 5.6% ABV and promises "a bite" on the clip. It arrived looking handsome: fully black with a thick pillow of foam and a dome of loose bubbles over the top. It's exactly the appearance Draught Guinness was invented to reproduce but never will. The aroma, however, is in the Guinness zone, being rather vague, just toasted grain and a mild metallic bittering. From that, the flavour was a surprise, opening up a ribbon-wrapped box of milk chocolates, adding a light smattering of latte coffee, butterscotch and vanilla, with a subtle dry charcoal note on the end for balance. I was impressed by the contrast between aroma and flavour: it smells almost acrid but is smooth and sumptuous to drink. While not exactly complex, it's perfectly balanced and wonderfully drinkable. In a less festive mood I might be inclined to complain that the ABV is excessive, but I'm willing to let that go because I'm sure the heft is a major part of its classy, understated gameplan. For me, this hit the same spots as Irish stout classics Leann Folláin and Nocturne, with bonus cask silk. At time of drinking I had recently finished reading Martyn Cornell's epic history of porter, and this beer fitted the hyperbolic descriptions that 18th and 19th century writers used when describing good product. I hope this isn't just a Christmas beer. It belongs on the bar year-round.

In summary, I think the breweries could have done better here. Light and pale just doesn't do it for me at midwinter. I was very glad to find at least some level of darkness in the selection. It would have been a wash-out without them.

Family reunion

Alas, I haven't yet been out to the new(ish) O Brother taproom in Wicklow. Its creation is the reason they've given for the reduced number of new release beers of late. Some sort of normality seems to be returning, however, as here's three of them.

A saison starts us off, very much an under-served style among Irish brewers. Year of Plenty is 5.8% ABV and a mostly-clear gold, given just a dusting of haze. Not much is given away in the aroma, just dry husky grain and a little sweet fruit ester for a hint of honeydew. That's all fair for ordinary decent saison, and the flavour is too. Chopped apple and dried apricot represent the fruit, while clove and white pepper add some fun Belgian seasoning to that. Throw on a dry wheaty base, and that's saison, ladies and gentlemen: what else could you want? This is heftier than your classic saison from Belgium, and ordinarily the stronger sort doesn't appeal to me as much, but this one has a more piquant spicing than other hot and flabby versions I've tasted. That gives it an extra drinkability, not cancelling out the thicker sweet side, but making it more enjoyable. Non-typical takes on saison aren't normally my thing; this one manages to pull in the good bits of the archetypes and adds only worthwhile extra features. Very nicely done.

Next, My Mortal Soul is a Märzen. It's a strong one at 6.1% ABV, and dark too: well into the amber end of the spectrum, like the sticky Oktoberfestbier preferred by American breweries. On top of that was a short-lived head of big loose bubbles, and there's a concomitant lack of fizz. Many an ale would benefit from the gentle sparkle presented here, but a German-style lager, not so much. That does also mean it's overly heavy. I don't mind a bit of chewing in a strong lager but there should be a balancing crispness when one chooses that route, and this is just a little too syrupy. It does at least use that density to pile in lots of fun flavours while avoiding the cloying heat of the, er, cheaper sort of strong lager. Summer fruit sits up front, a jammy smear of strawberry and red cherry. That contrasts with a significant hop bitterness, typically herbal in the German way, with some zinc to go with the spinach and celery. It's flawed, but I liked it. This beer's heart is in the right place and it delivers a pleasing amount of complexity, even if it's closer (I reckon) to a pale bock than Märzen. Serve in your tall Prussian sipping glass, not the hearty Bavarian mug.

Only one IPA in the set? That's refreshing. Silent Roar is a 6% ABV example, badged as "tropical" and mostly smelling it too, though there's a hint of savoury onion alongside the sweetly colourful Lilt aroma. It's on the thin side for that strength, and the flavour, while pleasant, isn't especially strong. I expected rather more oomph. I mean, it does do tropical. There is mango and pineapple and all that jazz -- add some ripe pear and orange pith for extra fun -- but where modern IPAs tend to lay these on thick and juicy (when they get it right), here it's at a remove, more like the flavouring of a fizzy drink than anything freshly squeezed, or squeezed at all. I'm being overly fussy, however. This is bright and genuinely refreshing, and while I expected a certain seriousness from the strength (and the rather po-faced name), I thoroughly enjoyed the fruity frivolity on offer. I'd chance a pint, no problem.

They may not have included the customary double IPA in their recent output (unless I missed it), but O Brother hasn't suffered any decline in their usual high standards from the brewery move. When the days get brighter I'll venture out there.

A welcome disruption

Non-alcoholic beer gets the occasional bit of coverage on here, though I tend to find very few which perform the role required of a beer. Pale ales, wheat beers and lagers seem to be the preferred styles, which may be the problem. I've often said that dark styles make for better alcohol-free beer, my favourite to date being Švyturys Go Juodas, and the Guinness one is pretty decent too. The latter's success has provided an opportunity for other breweries to get in on the 0.0 stout racket, and the first I've seen locally is Dundalk Bay's Zero Zero Nitro Stout, available in Aldi.

It's in a widget can and pours well, the head forming and staying in place as it should. Nitro here doesn't mean an absence of aroma, and there's quite a pungent roastiness: thick coffee, made a little Turkish with cardamom and nutmeg. Guinness adds fructose sugar to its 0.0 on the grounds that there isn't enough flavour in the base grains. Maybe that's a quirk of the Guinness recipe, because this is all-malt (barley and wheat) and there's no lack of flavour. It's very bitter, mixing dark toast with savoury herbs, the intensity turning almost metallic by the end. A little chocolate or mocha sweetness creeps in as it warms and helps soften the experience. The texture is where it falls down most, however: although there's a certain creamy aspect because of the nitrogen smoothness, it's inescapably thin, with a disappointing watery quality in the finish. Maybe this is where bulking-up with a non-fermentable sugar might have helped.

Overall, though, it's impressive stuff. Dundalk Bay does good stouts in general, and they seem to have brought some of that acumen to this one. It's boldly flavoured and tastes like a big and bitter old-fashioned stout. My theory holds up. Now, who else wants to give this style a go?

Chillax

I think this is a first for me: enough winter specials from Ireland's breweries to warrant a round-up post. Put on a cosy cardigan, light the fire, open a box of luxury seasonal clichés, and let's see how they stack up.

First out of the selection box is Vinternatt, brewed by Galway Bay but with the assistance of Bådin, for some Arctic authenticity. It's 6% ABV and brewed with orange peel and cinnamon, pouring a handsome and wholesome dark ruby. I feel the hygge just looking at it. The fruit and spice are to the fore in its aroma, conjuring the season admirably, smelling like a warm kitchen as the Christmas baking is happening. Although it's the lightest beer in our set, the texture is nicely rounded, and while there's no real heat, it's full and filling. The nine different types of malt are where that body comes from but they don't contribute much to the flavour directly. We're told the base is a Scotch ale recipe and to expect toffee, but I didn't get that. We have the orange and cinnamon at the front again, as in the aroma, though I'll note that they're relatively subtle -- I'm thankful in particular that the cinnamon isn't a foghorn blast of raw sticks, as found in too many Christmas beers. After this there's a old-world bitterness, earthy and vegetal, but again balanced and relatively understated. And that's pretty much it; a quick finish and no aftertaste. Seekers after novelty might be a bit miffed by how calm it all is, but it works, with the body being its best feature, something entirely appropriate to a winter warmer. Hooray for subtlety.

Kinnegar's answer to the season is a new version of their Winterland stout, this year's being 7% ABV with added vanilla and hazelnut. Though the pour was lively, it settled after a moment to a shiny black with a stable tobacco-stain head. The hazelnut has control of the aroma, which is dry and woody. So there's quite a turnaround when the flavour is powerfully sweet, the vanilla laid on thick and custard-creamy. I can't really find the hazelnut element in this, but there is a dry side: a dark coffee roast from the very fine stout at the base. As well as the coffee, there's dark chocolate, summer fruit, rose petals and herbal liqueur; all things that make strong stout worthwhile. If anything, the honking vanilla is a distraction and doesn't really add anything positive. The beer would taste just as delightfully wintery without it. Combining the vanilla and burnt-caramel element gives it a crème brûlée feel, and if that's the sort of thing that makes your Christmas, have at it. It left me hankering for more of the serious roast, heat and bitterness, however. Dessert can wait.

Happy tenth birthday to Dungarvan's Gallows Hill barley wine, originally featured here on Christmas Eve 2015. Now they've produced a barrel-aged version, matured in ex-bourbon Irish whiskey casks from Great Northern, raising the ABV from 8.5% to 10%. Last time I dinged it for being too hot, but this version isn't, I'm happy to say. Dark fruit and spicy fresh oak present an alluring aroma, while the foretaste leaves no doubt that bourbon was used in its production. It has that sour lime character of many American whiskeys, balanced by sweeter vanilla. The finish is dry and a little splintery, but not excessively so. All that made it difficult to find the beer in the equation. The raisin and prune effect from the aroma does appear in the flavour but elides somewhat with the spirit: those are valid whiskey flavours too, and at first I couldn't be entirely sure that they were brought here by the beer. They sit embedded in a bread or fruitcake malt base that took me a while to spot, but is its own form of sweetness, separate to the vanilla, and very much a beer thing. And while it's not hot in the marker-pen-phenol way, there's a definite warmth to this, one which is felt more than tasted. You will need to enjoy, or at least tolerate, bourbon in order to appreciate it, and if that's not a problem you'll find a beautifully mellow sipping beer. It may not have Santy on the label, but it's the epitome of wintertime beery enjoyment. A half-litre at a time? That's a full Christmas film of your choice.

Lough Gill takes us out, with a late addition to their winter 2025 range, one which hadn't yet appeared when I covered the bulk of them last month. It's called North Star (unfondly remembered as the name of a misconceived Guinness brand extension back in 2006) and is another of their barrel-aged imperial stouts, Christmassed up with a maroon label and the addition of cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla and cocoa. Ulp. That suggests an absolute mess, but they have integrated the disparate elements beautifully, creating a confection which tastes of chocolate, marzipan, gingerbread and cherry liqueur. Even though it's a whopping 12.6% ABV, and has the sticky, unctuous texture to go with that, it's a beer of nuance and balance, keeping its syrupy dark sugar clean and accessible, while the candy and spice enhancements are, if not subtle, at least appropriate to the broad flavour profile. Above all, it tastes mature, the ingredients fully complementary to each other, with everything playing its part and not seeking to dominate the others. I had mostly finished it when I remembered the barrel ageing. As usual, Boann whiskey barrels have been employed, but it doesn't taste especially barrelly. I guess once you add vanilla you're going to lose any vanillin subtlety from the casks. No matter. This is gorgeous, and the perfect Christmas season beer to go out on. Trust Lough Gill to deliver.

Well, we're heading into the sharp end of the Christmas period now. If you have access to any of the above, they're all well suited to what the season has in store. Lough Gill's is the one for your quiet moment away from all the heat and noise, however.

The eternal October

We go back to the tail end of October for the beginning of today's post. I had gone in search of the Oktoberfestbier from Hopkins & Hopkins which had been on tap at The Porterhouse, only to run out as soon as I ordered a pint. As an alternative, I picked the unOktoberfest Weissbier Spezial Edition by Hofbräuhaus Traunstein, a 5.4% ABV weizen. What makes it Spezial? Not the strength, particularly, but it's the dark ochre of Schneider's classic, so maybe I was in for a bit of roast. The aroma didn't suggest this, leading on concentrated banana. The roast did arrive in the flavour, however. Typical banana kicks things off, but quickly gives way, first to even sweeter caramel before it all gets cleaned up by a dry bite. A bitterer green banana effect adds acidity to the finish, and that's it done.

"Special" is maybe going a bit far, but it's a very decent take on weissbier. There's lots of the style's distinctive features, though not too much fruit, caramel, or alcohol heat. You do need to be OK with banana, and not go looking for clove phenols, to enjoy it. While this wasn't a substitute for the Festbier I wanted, I was happy to stumble across it regardless.

It was over a month later that the beer gods smiled upon me and H&H's Hopburgh Festbier (as the badge had it; it's "Oktoberfest" bottled) appeared at The Porterhouse's cooler younger sibling, Tapped. Pint please. The serving, in a Peroni-style sleeve glass, didn't really suit it but I could still see it's a deep rose gold, with perfect clarity. This is the full 5.8% ABV and shows a spectacular malt richness, right from the first sniff. Sweet and cakey melanoidins contrast with a noble hop intensity which goes beyond lettuce and celery, towards harsh burnt plastic. With a thinner beer, that could be a problem. Not here though. Malt is the dominant feature, and I don't know that the brewery does decoction mashing, but this has that bread-and-treacle depth of flavour. However it's done, it's marvellous, managing to be at once chewy and süffig while also sinkable and refreshing. The only thing missing was a handled glass from which to chug it. Worth waiting for, as the fella in Alexandria had it.

While we're on Irish-brewed German beer styles at The Porterhouse, an Altbier by Wide Street showed up at the Temple Bar branch in late November. Altstadt is 4.6% ABV and a dark mahogany red. It smells sweet, of bourbon biscuit and milk chocolate. That's one side of its flavour, but roast is the main one: a clean crispness, brushed with dark toast crumbs. The cookies arrive after that, followed by a green noble hop bitterness and a red fruit sweetness, adding a pinch of raspberry and cherry colour. I took my time over it, worth doing as it's a subtle beer which benefits from being given the opportunity to unfold. I should note that the brewery would like us to know that the grain bill includes rye for extra spice, but I can't say I tasted that. Regardless, it's an excellent Alt, offering the classic dark lager combination of clean drinkability with all the characterful dark malt flavour.

It's not for me to say that breweries in Dublin and Longford are doing a better job of German style beers than the Bavarians. This representative sample merely suggests that the hypothesis merits further investigation.