American things

Wicklow Wolf has always been a westward-looking brewery, taking its initial influence from Colorado in particular. Today's quartet of beers are their first for 2025, and they're exploring other parts of the North American continent and its related beer styles.

You don't see many California commons brewed these days, and I think this may be Wicklow Wolf's first. It's called Pacific Heights, and is 4.9% ABV. It's an attractive clear golden, looking very lager-like, in a classy way. There's a surprising sweetness at the front of the flavour, all perfume and fruit-flavoured candy. I found it a little strange that this was set on a clean lager-like base: the two don't work very well together. California common should be crisp, not floral, with a crunch of crackers. That's missing from this one, which instead goes for estery fruit, with overtones of cherry, banana and rum cocktails. I'm not a fan. The flavours would work in a big and bold beer. In one that's trying to be subtle and modest, they're a distraction. We may not get many California commons, but we haven't forgotten how they taste, and this one doesn't fit in. I'm not a fan of the warm, headachey alcohol vapours on offer here.

A west coast IPA should clean things up nicely, and next is Next Stop, named after the east coast. Err... It's only 5.8% ABV, which gives me one point to question the stylistic fidelity, and it's hazy too: a pale kellerbier yellow. The hops are Simcoe, Citra, Amarillo and Columbus, and that gives it a bright and zesty aroma. There's a decently big and soft texture -- more than I would have expected from the strength -- and the hops pile into the foretaste with Citra leading the charge, all lime and grapefruit. Style purists may object that the bitterness is dialled back, and it's not especially sharp. Pine and dank don't feature, either, so the citrus is your lot. I enjoyed it, though. The summery zest is enough for a beer that isn't particularly strong or blousey. You get your money's worth from the hops regardless. This is just the sort of boldly flavoured American-style IPA that made Wicklow Wolf's name back in the early days. It's good that they're still at it.

A second pair followed hot on the heels of those two, and I'm starting with Cliff Walk, a hazy IPA, and a light one at only 5% ABV. From the date on the base it looks like this had been in the can three days when I opened it, and the benefit of drinking this sort of beer fresh was hammered home by the aroma: a powerful blend of citrus and sterner green vegetables. That bold mix is very much present in the flavour too, dominated by an acidity which suggests raw hop pellets, loaded up with bitter herbs, spinach and pine. It does run the risk of seeming dreggy, but the pure hop flavour cuts through the grit and keeps it out of the way. Those in search of juice from their murky IPA are made to wait a few seconds before the satsuma or tangerine emerges to feature in the finish. Although some softer vanilla creeps in as it warms, the aggressive bittering never quite goes away, leaving a strong impression of west-coast IPA, counter-intuitively. Regardless, it's a banger, and well worth grabbing as soon as you can because I very much doubt it will improve with age.

That arrived with Off Script, described as a West Coast Pilsner (see my recent thoughts on such terminology) and brewed with German hop variety Tango and a descendent of both Hersbrucker and Strata, named Audacia. 5.6% ABV makes it today's second-strongest beer, yet it is worryingly pale, and completely transparent, resembling an American light lager more than anything. There's a vague and slightly sweaty lemon zest aroma, which isn't especially enticing, and the flavour is mild too. A hint of onion is perhaps the most prominent characteristic, but it's still no more than a hint. Behind it there's a sweet 7-Up mix of lemon and lime extract, flashing briefly before fading out. The saviour of this beer is the texture, that big gravity giving it a full and chewy mouthfeel that makes it very satisfying to drink even if the flavour isn't up to much. Much like the Kinnegar one from a few weeks ago, I can't say I got much West Coast character from it, however.

I guess there's more stylistic leeway with IPAs compared to California common or pilsner, as long as you get the fundamentals right. Next Stop and Cliff Walk are commended to anyone who likes their beer with a pronounced hop character. Off Script offers lager lovers a certain clean yet weighty charm. I don't know who the other one is for, however.

Ketchup, catsup...

The Jesuitical analysis of comparable beer styles never ceases to amuse and bemuse me, bless all the dear pedants who take such things seriously. Before us today is the question of how a "dry-hopped lager" differs from a "West Coast pilsner", because I'm sure these aren't terms that breweries simply assign arbitrarily.

For the former, we have Airbell by Lough Gill. This was a terribly handsome fellow once poured into a glass: a deep and serious golden colour, crystal clear, topped with a generous pillow of pure white foam. There's not a Bavarian alive who wouldn't be charmed by that. It all turns very un-continental afterwards, however, starting with the freshly zesty aroma making it very clear there is citrus to come. The flavour follows right through on that promise, delivering an intense hit of freshly-squeezed lemon juice. It runs the risk of tasting a bit like washing-up liquid but avoids it thanks to a generous malt base, providing the pancake for the hops' Jif. Throughout, it's as squeaky clean as I'd want a lager to be, and the pinch of grapefruit bitterness on the end adds to its significant ability to quench and refresh. There's a lot going on in this for a mere 4.5% ABV, and if you didn't know Lough Gill, you might be surprised that something so accomplished could come from a small brewery in north-west Ireland.

Also in that general neck of the Atlantic coast is Kinnegar, who have reached Brewers At Play 44 in their limited edition series. This is another pretty one, and I'm not sure I can recall when I last had two purely clear Irish beers on the trot. The aroma wasn't as in-my-face as the previous, only a wisp of sherbet or lemonade. The hops really don't manifest in the flavour, or at least not in The American Way. Instead, here's a very Germanic crispness; achingly dry in the Nordsee manner, with a rasp in the back of the throat, mixing celery and spinach with a harder plaster dust and burnt rubber acridity. I'm surprised to read on the can that it's done with American hops, because it really doesn't show much of their attributes, merely a light spritz of grapefruit zest at the end of something that's pilsner first and West Coast a distant second. It's not at all a bad beer -- I'm fond of a traditionally-formulated pils -- but it's not what I was expecting, and is very very different from the beer which preceded it.

You demand conclusions. It's probably something about how the myriad decisions required when formulating any beer recipe have more of an effect on the finished product than any pre-determined notion of style. Or, pay more attention to what brewers brew than to what they write on their cans.