Born. This. Way

Hop Rocker, 77, Fake: BrewDog has had a number of goes at the pale lager category and none of them has impressed me much. The latest attempt is called This. Is. Lager. and was launched last summer. Understandably wary, I decided to give it a head start by drinking it on a sunny afternoon after mowing the lawn, when little is demanded of a lager other than refreshment.

And I think it exceeded the minimum requirements of the task. Yes it was wet, and cold and crisply fizzy but there's also enough malt body to avoid being hollow or watery. The hops, meanwhile, are in that East Kent Goldilocks zone of imparting a refreshing bitter bite -- grassy, slightly metallic -- lasting long on the palate but without being overpowering. While the body is dense enough to pass for higher than 4.7% ABV, it's not any way sweet or bready. Most of all, the classic lager cleanness infuses the whole making it an absolutely perfect patio quaffer. Put it in a grown-up serving size and you'd have a rival for Pilsner Urquell.

From there to a more recent release from the Scottish brewery: Born To Die, an 8.5% ABV double IPA. Colourwise, it's not that different from the lager, the clear bright yellow a refreshing change in a world where double IPAs tend to be heavy, soupy, orange beasts. The aroma is very, er, BrewDog: a punky blitz of ripe mango, pine resin and dank, with maybe just a whisper of heat, hinting at the high ABV. That strength gets hidden in the fruit-forward flavour. It sings an innocent carefree rhyme of apricots and mandarins with only a slight bitter pinch on the end followed by a dry savoury finish. No heat, no chewiness, just a pure clean surface for the hop fun. I sipped slowly to savour it, not because it was hard going.

I think I can see why the brewery is making a big fuss of this beer's fragility: when the hops die off there isn't going to be any character to replace them; it will not, like some double IPAs, grow up into a decent barley wine. Though that said I'm not about to spend another €11 to test that theory.

Top stuff all round from BrewDog. These plucky kids will do well.

A BrewDog's not just for Christmas

I picked up a cheap Trashy Blonde in the Sprucefield Sainsbury's. I mean, who hasn't? Brought her home, kept her in the attic a few months -- you know the drill -- and then finally plucked up the courage to pull her top off. Shall I stop now? Yeah.

It's a beautifully golden ale with lots of clean refreshing fizz. The nose gives me lager malts and peachy hops. Much like 77 lager, the flavour is powerfully bitter, though tempered nicely with the juicy fruit flavours, and finishing dry. Superb complexity for a 4.1% ABV beer, and at a quid a bottle there's no guilt about chugging it back cold, or smothering it in spicy food. I really should have bought more...

Instead, there's Devine Rebel, the result of when Mikkeller met BrewDog, with a charming illustration of the eponymous Mikkel facing the eponymouser Bracken on the label. Two of the continent's top brewers; 12% ABV; barrel aged in whisky casks: you can expect that what pours forth is a good time.

It seems to arrive a murky brown, but hold it up to the light and there's a certain saintly amber radiance to the colour. The first sip produces a heavy filling sensation, coating the mouth just like all the best barrel-aged beers I've met. The first wave from the flavour platoon fills the palate with milk chocolate and juicy raisins. While these charming raconteurs keep your tastebuds busy, a pincer movement of vanilla wood and sharp hops nip round the back and take control of the situation before you realise what's happened. Next thing, you're up to your eyes in whisky casks and bitterness yet still enchanted by the fruitsome candy loveliness of the first sensations. It's best just to surrender and enjoy the occupation. Kiss a squaddie; paint stocking seams on the back of your legs -- that kind of deal.

This is a beautifully crafted beer, and a perfect example of how the new extremists of European brewing ought not not be dismissed as fad-chasers, but are clearly capable of sublime beers that only the terminally stultified could deem poor.

All these fruits and fun, plus bitterness and wood, means that Brewdog will definitely be appearing on both Santa's nice and naughty lists this evening. Just as well Bracken has four stockings.

Wishing a very merry Christmas to all my readers. Cheers!

A third of a century later

I wasn't at all impressed by BrewDog's misnomered Hop Rocker lager so haven't been inclined to run out and try their other lighter offerings. But enough positive comments about 77 Lager have filtered through to me to make me go out and buy a bottle of this one.

Universally described as very much a hops-forward lager, I was expecting something along the lines of Brooklyn's, but it's a much more intense experience. There's little to no restraining malt -- just super-resinous earthy hops. I kept having to remind myself that it's a pilsner rather than a full-on English IPA. The thin texture and light fizz adds to the cask effect.

I'm not at all sure I like it. It's just too unbalanced, and has that metallic flavour I often find from English hops in large quantities, though the earthiness meant it went rather well with some mature and gritty Bellingham Blue cheese. Nevertheless, I think I'll be sticking with good old Brooklyn as my hoppy lager of choice.