The SHO must go on

With a dwindling list of Dublin pubs which put their beer offer first, it's important to treasure the ones we have left. I still think of Brickyard as a newcomer to the scene, even though it's been going for a decade now. It is a bit out of my way, however, so it's nice when I have a specific reason to go. One such was on a recent Saturday when there was a showcase of beers from Ukrainian brewery SHO, intended for the Hagstravaganza festival but missing it due to logistics problems. Sligo's loss is my gain, thank you very much.

Five beers were on tap, and I chose the natural starting point of a Helles called Hellь. Pale lagers are a good way to get a sense of any brewery's abilities, and this one gave very positive signs for SHO. It's a light 4.7% ABV but still beautifully full and smooth, with a gentle condition that could have come from a countertop wooden cask. The flavour opens sweetly, almost like candyfloss, but follows it with a balancing salad-leaf greenness, which also forms the aroma. It's flawless: not a beer to set anyone's world on fire, and not really something worth importing at great expense when Spaten is €2.50 a bottle in Aldi, but it performed the task I set for it: telling me what sort of brewery this is, and it looks like a good one.

It's a bit of a shame there was no Ukrainian golden ale in the set. The next pint was also Germanic: a weissbier called UA Weizen. Again it's only 4.7% ABV, so on the weak side, and light with it: short on body while big on fizz. That's valid, but not to my taste. The flavour is basic banana with overtones of butterscotch, none of which lasts long into the finish, mercifully. The interplay of crisp fizz and sweetness is fun for a while, but the sugar wins out and I was finding it a touch saccharine by pint's end. While I wasn't really a fan, this is as technically proficient as the Helles was, it's just a less enjoyable beer style to start with. Time to move on to something more involved.

The straight gose is called Gozel 2.0 and is a mere 3.7% ABV. This, too, is crisp and fizzy, and a bit plain. It's a clear golden colour, and begins with a dry grain-husk flavour. Tart apple skin follows, plus a vague salinity, but no herbs. I can't give it full marks for style fidelity, then. The growing banana twang as it warms is also a point against. Overall, though, it's light and refreshing, and I think that's all it's meant to be. It's boring, though. I could drink a pint of it, but I'd spend most of that thinking about what I was going to order next. 

As an east-European brewery they had to have a tomato gose, and SHO's is Cosaco Mexicano. As the name implies, there's some chilli in with the red fruit, and it's 5% ABV. I love a Bloody Mary, and this beer does a mighty fine impression of a good one. It's very much savoury-first, with soup-like tomato skin and then zingy pepper spice to lightly scorch the palate and throat. The gose saltiness adds to the savoury effect, as does some dark-soy-like umami. It's an all-round eye-opening stimulant of a beer, with a flavour that's both all over place and also perfectly plotted with well-integrated individual elements. It looks disgusting though, and the carbonation is a tad lower than ideal, but I can forgive all of that. It's high time some of our local breweries took on something like this. It's possible that someone other than me will buy them. Unlikely, yes, but possible.

Tragically, them ones over there seem to enjoy their pastry "sour" beers more than their spicy sour ones, so there had to be a cherry, hibiscus and cinnamon purple emulsion in with this lot. It's called Kysil. These don't normally keep much of a head, so it was a surprise to see one here. It's only 4% ABV but heavy with it, the lactose providing density without turning it sticky. It smells merrily of mince pies and the flavour is not too sweet, giving lots of Bakewell tart fun. So it's a pastry beer which takes the word seriously. While not a masterpiece of the brewer's art, it's a good example of this style: characterful, a bit gimmicky, but in a gently fun way, not unpleasantly overboard with the lactose or fruit syrup.  

I came home with two cans of IPA and began on Nebula Juice, the New England one. The style fidelity continues early doors, with a gently tropical aroma and a mild smear of vanilla. Like all the good hazy IPAs, the sweet and fleshy fruit is tempered with a citric bite, manifesting here as grapefruit spritz. There's a touch of yeasty spice in the finish, threatening to turn dreggy though not quite doing it. The downside is really that it doesn't do anything much, a bit like that gose. There is a point where balance becomes dull, and this lacks distinctive features as much as it lacks off flavours. The finish, in particular, is where it turns a bit watery, and even at only 5.3% ABV that's something of a problem. Full marks for ticking boxes but none for creative flair.

Of course it wasn't a surprise to find that Narcissus west coast IPA very much looks the part, being brightly golden, if not perfectly clear. That belies an aroma where slightly funky dank resin meets a caramel or toffee malt sweet side. The flavour is centred on a pithy citrus which is all the bitter, yet not harsh. There's an unusual fruit flavour complexity, perfumed like bergamot or lychee, finishing on mouthwatering pine spice. I couldn't quite place the variety, but the can helpfully tells us it's Talus (with Citra), and of course it is. The ghostly crystal malt presence from the aroma has dissipated, and the substantial substance (6.4% ABV) all goes towards supporting the hop performance. This time it's full marks for creative flair. It hits the style points as usual, but goes above and beyond.  I haven't encountered a Talus-forward beer in a while, which is a shame because it does wonderful things to clean-based IPAs.

Overall, SHO strikes me as a brewery of seriousness, tackling a variety of beer styles in an orderly, methodical way. My criticisms are largely ones of taste rather than technical prowess. These weren't official imports so I don't know if we'll see them, or other SHO beers in general circulation, but I hope we do. Cheers to Brickyard for giving us a looksee.

September pairs 5: Kinnegar

It's not all big IPAs and blousy sour ales in Irish beer these days. Kinnegar, for example, is being fierce responsible with Short Stack, a "mid-strength" IPA of 2.7% ABV. It's a pale golden colour and doesn't look watery. The aroma is brightly zesty, suggesting mandarin and Seville orange, with perhaps an extra herbal complexity lurking behind. The flavour unfortunately doesn't follow through there, and I found it unpleasantly dry, with a caraway or sesame savoury husky quality. The fruit element is no more than a pinch of zest in the finish, although the herbal side does emerge as it warms: a grassy, rye-like spice. I blame the flavour problem on the gravity. There's a thinness which probably shouldn't be surprising, but it's unhelpful regardless, and seems to be quashing the hop character. No magic tricks here: it's a compromised beer and, unfortunately, it tastes it. I get that there's a market for lower-strength products, but I also think one would be better off drinking fewer full-strength ones.

We may be some months past elderflower season, but Kinnegar has an Elderflower Saison as Brewers At Play 51. The strength is still modest, at only 4.8% ABV, and it's the pale yellow shade of lemon barley water. I'm not sure if the appearance is a factor in how it smells like a witbier, but it does, mixing light citrus, grainy cereal and a background Belgian yeast spice. So the flavour was something of a surprise: it's very banana-forward, bringing us from witbier to weissbier without passing through saison on the way. It took a glance at the can to remind me that elderflower should be a feature too, and that does, in fairness, arrive late, adding a second kind of fruity sweetness to the whole picture. I'm a little disappointed by the lack of saison crispness, finding it just a bit too fat and sugary to be properly "farmhouse", if you know what I mean. Neither spice nor funk feature. It's not a bad beer; just a bit basic. Take a very light and simple saison, add elderflower-flavoured syrup, and you're done. Not very playful. I'm willing to accept that the concept is sound, but I'd like some extra heft. Raise the ABV to 6% or so, and I reckon it would be an altogether more cheering experience.

And that's this series done. Doors open at 4pm today at the RDS. Let's see what Ireland's breweries have for us next.

September pairs 4: Lough Gill

At the outset of this series, I hadn't realised that each pair would include one pale ale and one something else. I suppose it shouldn't be surprising, statistically speaking. For the penultimate couple, we look north-westwards, to Lough Gill.

Bright Eyed alleges it's a "bright IPA" but I don't know what it means by that, because it's far from clear: a hazy pale yellow colour. Bright rather than dark, maybe? Anyway, it's 6.6% ABV and uses Citra, Southern Cross and Dulcita hops. I don't know the other two very well, but the Citra is out in force, blasting lemon and lime in the aroma and bringing a softer lemonade tang to the flavour. The texture is light and the carbonation low making for a very easy drinker, and I had to consciously slow down to appreciate the hops properly. On balance it's bitter, but there's a shaft of sunlight shining through it as well, bringing zest and even a hint of tropicality. That could be what they mean by "bright". All told, it's another excellent hop-forward Lough Gill beer, and I'm sure is best enjoyed fresh, so snap it up if you see it.

And for pudding, a Peachy Sundae. I had forgotten how good Lough Gill is at this sort of thing too. Yes, it's fruit flavoured and 7% ABV, and it contains lactose and invokes a vanilla-ish dessert, but it's actually sour. In the glass it's a dark carrot-orange colour, but it doesn't gloop, and the head crackles briefly before disappearing. The body is thin, without being watery, and there's very little sign of the alcohol. There's very little sign of the peach, for that matter, only a very broad icepop-esque summer-fruit tang. I'll note here that no fruit or flavouring is listed on the ingredients but I assume that's an oversight. The main act is a deliciously hard and acidic sourness, scouring the palate and tickling the salivary glands, the way proper mixed-fermentation beer does. This may even be one. I'm guessing the sizeable strength is created by voracious yeast, rather than simply loading up the wort with excessive amounts of sugar. I had no choice but to take it slowly, and as it warmed I began to detect a hint of sweeter, creamier vanilla lactose, but it never came close to matching the main tart tang. This is a beaut, and I commend it to anyone who might be put off by thinking from the name that it isn't proper beer.

Any guesses as to the last brewery of the sequence? We're not moving far.

September pairs 3: Third Barrel

I'm happy to observe that The Christchurch, Third Barrel Brewing's new pub, is performing its required role exceptionally well, as the hangout of preference for Dublin's zytherati.

The line of Third Barrel beers themed around it continues with The Chimes, a hoppy lager. I was a little apprehensive since the recent Eight Degrees one wasn't to my taste, but this goes hoppier. There's a soft peachy flavour on top of the crispness, and a late bitter poke, more cheeky than assertive. It's only 4.3% ABV, so as a draught-only house beer it's very well adapted. Their Czech-style Hello, Yes is better, but I can see myself switching between the two on the regular.

The lack of a tap badge on the day I came in means you're spared the woeful AI graphic of Two Sides's The Pursuit of Hoppiness. It was nice not to have the distraction because this is an excellent beer. It's an IPA of 5.4% ABV and brewed in collaboration with fellow Third Barrel client brewer, Hopsicle. And although it's doubtless designed for pub drinking -- now that all three companies involved are in the on-trade -- it's not short on complexity for considered drinking. That slightly high-for-the-pub strength gives it a satisfying weight and density, which is used to great effect by the hops. The result is wonderfully dank and oily, starting on a bright note of lime zest before turning to a more serious pine resin. A counter-melody of juicy cantaloupe plays alongside. It's a fun beer: session-drinkable, just about, while showcasing multiple attributes of the marvellous hop. The name is well chosen.

Whether we'll be seeing much by way of new beers from guest breweries at The Christchurch remains to be seen. As an outlet for new Third Barrel product alone, however, it's a welcome addition to our city's beer scene.

September pairs 2: Wicklow Wolf

First beer of the evening on one of the hottest days of late summer: if that doesn't provide a fair context for a piña colada sour beer, I don't know what does. Wicklow Wolf has called it If You Like, and it takes the brewery's Endangered Species series of limited editions to number 68. It's a gentle 3.8% ABV, and the ingredients include pineapple, coconut and lactose, as one might expect. As one also might expect, at least if you're me, it's not at all sour. The first thing to hit the palate is a smooth and slightly gummy milkshake sweetness. Its effect is exaggerated by the lack of any properly strong flavours, of any kind. After a moment, the pineapple starts to emerge, syrupy and processed rather than crisp and fresh. I couldn't really pick out any coconut, and that was a surprise, as it's not normally shy (boom boom!), and of course you can forget about any hop or malt flavour. Sticky pineapple is where this one begins and ends. Maybe it does the job of conjuring memories of that holiday cocktail you liked, but if so, I don't go on the same kind of holidays as you so I couldn't possibly say. We'll park it at "inoffensive but unexciting".

And speaking of unexciting, 67 in the series is a hazy IPA, called Petrichor. This is a modest 5% ABV and brewed with Citra, Krush and Mosaic. The aroma is very bright and zingy, a mix of oily lime citrus and some serious dank resins. Not your typical murk job, then. It turns surprisingly tropical in the flavour, with mango and, oh, more pineapple, but still hanging on to that lovely oily bitter side. I deem this just New England enough, and it avoids the sticky vanilla and any dreggy grit. The lightish strength keeps it clean and drinkable, with the right amount of cleansing fizz. It's a work of supreme balance and bursting with hop appeal. The brewery would like us to know all about the liquid extract form in which they used the Citra, and for once I'm willing to add my voice to that. The Citra here is very Citra-y.

The September Pairs series continues next week. There will be IPA, I imagine.

September pairs 1: Whiplash

Autumn has arrived, and the annual Dublin Beer Festival at the RDS will be upon us soon. Ahead of that, I have a series of short posts on recently released Irish beers, all of which have trickled through in pairs. We begin with Whiplash, and a couple of pints in their Dublin pub, Fidelity.

They've done a grodziskie, which is certainly a rarity for these parts. Final Credits (no idea why) is 3.5% ABV, and an equally-innocent clear dark gold colour. So the big opening smoke hit was a shock. This is not a subtle beer, nor a tasty and fun little curiosity from world brewing. This is a serious commitment to the smoke. It tastes of bonfires and blast furnaces; engines and factories. Smoky, but not in the savoury way of pork and fish. It is at least light-bodied, which goes some way to soften the impact, and once you're used to the acridity, I can see how it could even be seen as refreshing. But that's at least pint two, or possibly generation two of this being the ingrained local beer style. I give props to the brewery for giving one a go, but I couldn't get into this one. It's for grodziskie extremophiles only.

Whiplash brews Oddity, and the latest from the Barcelona client brewer is The Dreamer. In a move that's sadly typical for Whiplash, they claim this is west coast, though my suspicions were aroused as soon as the tap started pouring. The look is hazy; translucent, not opaque, but that's no excuse. We are NOT on the west coast here, boys and girls. The poorly-rendered subterfuge continues with a flavour which is downright juicy. Opening on fresh-squeezed, after a moment it sweetens to orangeade, leaning to hard candy and aromatic citrus oil, and only then reluctantly drifting towards the hard pith and resin of the west coast. It doesn't go all the way there, however. It's maybe a bit slight for 6.6% ABV, and while it's certainly enjoyable, well-made, and properly flavoursome, the style fidelity (lol) is poor. Exercise caution.

More IPA tomorrow, from a brewery that turns them out as prolifically as Whiplash.

Rehydrate

Look, I'm absolutely not against the concept of non-alcoholic beers. It's just that most of the specific ones I've drank have been so wide of the mark that I can't imagine an occasion when I would chose one over drinking nothing. There have been a handful of exceptions, virtually none of which have been in the lager, pale ale or wheat beer styles, which is unfortunately what the breweries keep turning out.

And yet I persist. Today's beers are three from reputable Irish producers which are commonly available. So much so that leaving them off Ireland's top-rated beer review blog would have been remiss. And so I hold my nose, figuratively speaking, and make a start.

Fierce Mild is a standalone non-alcoholic brewer, based in Dundalk. This Extra Pale Ale is the flagship, though a lager was added to the range recently. Let's see how we get on with this first. It immediately does itself no favours with the appearance: both murky and watery looking, with a crackly low-effort head, like your worst witbier nightmare. The aroma is metallic -- aspirin -- which is a common flaw is this kind of beer, but everyone else doing it is no excuse. The effect is ameliorated a little with some freshly lemony hops. Further marks come off for the texture, which is thin and watery, but at least it's refreshing, aided by a busy fizz which I found cleansing rather than intrusive. Not that there's much to cleanse, however. Neither aspirin nor lemons show up in the foretaste, though the latter arrives in the finish and becomes the beer's main character. That would almost have made it palatable, were it not for the creeping aspirin behind it. Ugh. This nearly becomes almost worthwhile, but misses it at the very end, leaving an unpleasant and unwelcome metal deposit on the palate that's tragically typical. I thought maybe the non-alcoholic specialists might have got the formula right, but they turn out to be no better than everyone else. Better get on with everyone else, so.

Galway Bay's flagship IPA has been around almost since the brewery's beginnings, and extensively reformulated over the years. I don't know if the recipe for Full Sail Zero is intended to resemble the current form. The visuals are a little better than the above: it's a marginally warmer shade of golden, though still murky and with no head after the first few seconds. It smells unpleasantly vegetal, like overboiled cabbage or spinach, which I guess is a small step sideways from metallic. It's not watery, and has a surprisingly decent body, but I honestly couldn't tell whether the flavour was either very slight or completely non-existent, and what I could taste was the residual effect of the previous beer. There's maybe a very faint echo of grapefruitish American hops, which would scan for it being a version of Full Sail, but it's extremely bland. It may feel like a beer, and even looks like one, and I guess it gets points for lacking off flavours. Lacking any flavour is a poor show, however, and this does little to raise my opinion of non-alcoholic beer.

The session rounds off with No Dose, purporting to be a pilsner, from Whiplash, where they know how pilsner is supposed to taste. They say it's unfiltered but it's still fairly clear; dark golden and without any head to speak of, alas. It smells mostly of lemonade, suggesting American hops rather than noble ones, though there's a telltale metallic twang too, which doesn't bode well. That lack of head is a result of low carbonation -- I hope they weren't depending on the weak fermentation process to condition it -- although there's a decent weight to it, with no wateriness. The unsubtle lemon is the main feature of the flavour, and it's a flavour which is not beer adjacent. It's barely lemon-adjacent, actually, tasting more like a very plain white lemonade. That lasts long and turns slightly sticky. We're back in the territory of un-beer-like, but not actually unpleasant to drink, as long as the sweetness doesn't upset you. It's a very poor impression of pilsner however.

I feel I've done something worthy by drinking these. There were no surprises: nothing that made me think that the paler form of non-alcoholic beer works as a beer substitute. That none of them was undrinkably disgusting should perhaps be a cause for celebration. Maybe that's what people mean when they say non-alcoholic beer has got better. It's a pretty low bar, though. I'll give science some time to catch up further before I tackle any more sets of these.