Imported enjoyment

Villa Torlonia is a grand 19th century mansion in Rome, which latterly served as Mussolini's official residence and then as Allied High Command headquarters after the war. The Italian state subsequently redeveloped it, opening the grounds as a public park. The orangery is now a rather grand café with a terrace, and in recent years it has hosted an annual festival of Franconian beer -- FrankenBierFest -- organised by Roman beer institution, The Football Pub. It just so happened that the 2026 edition was taking place when I was in Rome with EBCU a couple of weeks ago.

The programme lists 91 different beers, poured both from kegs and Bayerische Anstich wooden casks, though I reckon not more than half of these were on sale at the bars at any one time. Arriving when things were in full swing on the Saturday evening, I could tell this wasn't a gig for tasting samples: you're meant to drink.

My drinking began with a half-litre of Ur-Kö, an economically-named beer from the economically-named Hoh brewery in Köttensdorf. It's quite a strong amber lager, at 5.4% ABV, yet is raspingly dry, devoid of any Helles or Märzen sweetness. The slightly dark colour means it has a touch of roast in the flavour, but that's about the most interesting thing I can say about it. I guess it's intended as a retro recreation of an olden-days beer. If so, things sure were bland back then.

I didn't choose the next beer; a complimentary barrel of it was heaved onto a nearby table and tapped. This was the Vollbier from Stern of Schlüsselfeld, and quite a contrast it was too. It's kickingly bitter, packed with sharp damp grass and gentler salad herbs. That vegetal noble hop quality is very real and fresh, with no trace of the burnt plastic that often turns me off such beers. As the name implies, there's plenty of substance, its 5% ABV making it smooth and dense. And yet it still manages to be crisp and quenching. It took some time and effort to get the barrel emptied, and I enjoyed the beer immensely, right down to my final, sad, refill. Then it was back to the bar.

Obviously, there needed to be smoked beer, even though that's very much a minority interest in Franconia. Räucherla by Lippert caught my eye, and then my palate, because this one is extremely smoky. It's the right kind of smoke, fortunately, giving caramelised bacon rashers on another full and soft body. It's quite a pale amber, and the lack of balancing roast means it could easily have slipped into being cloying, but it deftly avoids that. Regardless of the scarcity of Rauchbier in the region, I guess when you have two world-famous practitioners on your doorstep, you get it right. For me, this goes toe-to-toe with the core beers from Spezial and Schlenkerla.

Smoked beer ticked off, I scanned for something dark next, finding Schwarzer Adler by Brauerei Eichhorn of Dörfleins-Hallstadt. I should have known it wouldn't be a typical Schwarzbier, because that's not really a Franconian thing. What I got here was a garnet-coloured lager of 6% ABV, with a horrifically sweet, saccharine, core. Around that, there's some liquorice bitterness and some dark chocolate, but no roast and, crucially, no lager-crispness. The result is somewhat sickly and, while passably drinkable and free of technical flaws, didn't suit me. My least favourite elements of Munich Dunkel and Czech tmavý pivo seemed gathered here in one glass, just to annoy me.

Although I only had four beers, I think my hit rate was better here than when touring the small breweries of Franconia for real. The person picking beers for the festival knows what they're doing.

As I mentioned on Monday, beers which were in town for the festival had also found their way into the general Roman on-trade, including at Be.Re, where we went straight from the gig. In need of more lager, I began there with the Zwickl by Hausbrauerei zur Sonne in Bischberg. I don't think it's just that I was no longer in the sunny garden of Villa Torlonia that I had a problem with this. For one thing, I don't think Zwickl should be as clear as this 4.8% ABV job was. There's also an unpleasant dry caraway seed flavour, turning almost papery by the finish. It's harsh, and I think may be one of those German beers designed for a palate very different from mine.

That leaves just a handful of other imported beers to report on. The Dutch delegate had brought sample cans of No Time Like Now, part of a regular series of charity beers organised by the Beer Geeks Facebook group. They used to happen at De Molen, and now it seems that Baxbier has stepped in to replace it. This is a grape ale, 20% must, built big at 8.3% ABV, and doubling down on the grape by dry-hopping with Nelson Sauvin. The result is a spectacular Nelson showcase, demonstrating that hop's luscious soft white grape flavours, accentuated and complemented by the actual grape juice. It's zingy and brightly fruity in a way that beers of this strength rarely are. It could be that it gets harder to drink in larger quantities, but I was very impressed with the small sample I had.

Retracing my steps to The Football Pub, they were serving Allsopp's Pale Ale on their handpump. This is the recently revived Burton brand, now brewed at Kirkstall in Leeds. The owner would like us to believe that this 4% ABV fellow has been brewed since 1730, showing it's not just the big multinationals which enjoy lying to their customers. Whatever about the details of where the recipe comes from, it seemed thoroughly modern to me. It's a clear yellow colour, the flavour opening on bright and sharp citrus, before softening to honeydew melon with a mineral chalky finish, because Burton, I guess. There's a lot of complexity in this small package: plenty of hop wallop, given a beautiful smoothness by the cask (maybe) format. It may be pitched as the heritage of England, but I think I detect an American accent too.

And finally, an English porter which was pouring from the handpump at Treefolk's. I've had the barrel-aged version of Five Points Derailed before, back when the London brewery's wares were in regular rotation at UnderDog. This is the plain version of it, although it is itself based on Five Points Railway Porter, given some Brettanomyces wild fermentation. It's a combination that works exceedingly well, keeping the classy dessertish chocolate of the base beer and adding in a serious funky Brett perfume, making it taste mature and vinous, with  mouth-watering dry bite. Gorgeous stuff, quite unusual, and maybe an object lesson for the Allsopp's people in how to give a beer some proper 18th-century feels.

That's all from Rome for now. The Italian capital remains an enjoyable beer destination at any time, but it's a bonus if you can catch an event too.

The London invasion

I've long since lost track of what's happening on London's beer scene. It was so much easier in 2007. The occasional headline occurrence passes my way in the general discourse, but I know that there's plenty chugging away in the background that I'm not aware of. And nor should I be, really: I live far away from London. In recent weeks, two unfamiliar London brewers have come to me, via new export arrangements and launch events.

Five Points I had at least heard of, and even tried their flagship Railway Porter some years back. A selection of their core range is now being imported to Ireland via FourCorners, and a launch event was held at UnderDog so punters like me could try them out.

I began with Five Points Pils. They've adopted the old Camden Town system for this, brewing some in-house and contracting out the rest to a brewer in Belgium. Though unlike Camden Town in its indie days, they don't deign to tell us which Belgian it is. (edit: Matt reports in the comments that all Pils production is now in-house.) The beer is 4.8% ABV and a bright gold colour with a handsome dollop of shaving foam on top. I got a fun combination of lemon sherbet and grassy Saaz hops to begin, backed by a classic Czech-style golden syrup malt flavour. It was all going well until the finish which was just a bit too harshly bitter for my liking, turning waxy and vegetal. It's certainly bold and interesting; my taste runs to something smoother, however, even in pilsner.

The evening's special beer, not part of the range being imported on a regular basis, was Derailed, a barrel-aged version of Railway Porter. I don't think the barrels have improved it any. The result is very woody, all dry and stale-tasting. The sour funky aroma doesn't help ameliorate the sense of a beer gone a bit rancid. Some of the coffee survives from the base beer, and there's a certain pleasing vinousness, but it's all too severe for me. A taster was plenty, thanks.

The ale sequence begins with Five Points Pale Ale, 4.4% ABV and a murky orange colour. I got a whole candystore full of sherbet from the first sip, zipping and popping with oranges and lemons, set against a heavier marmalade background. A bitter jolt of lime is the finishing flourish. This is a tremendously fun beer, absolutely packed with 360° hop flavour and a triumph for that modest strength. The light texture also adds to its drinkability.

XPA was an altogether calmer affair, served on cask for the evening. Despite the name, this is lower-strength than the pale ale, at 4% ABV. It offers a very simple and dignified blend of sharply citric fresh grapefruit segments and wholesome all-grain toast malt. Again it's one that drinks very easily, but offers plenty to keep the palate occupied while it does so. I think I preferred the sparks found in the kegged pale ale, however.

Completing this subset is Five Points IPA, a big-hitter, US style, at 7% ABV. It's a beautiful medium-gold colour and quite dry, surprisingly so, in fact. I guess they're pitching for that Sculpin-like, almost astringent, west coast thing. A little bit of light dankness in the finish helps add a touch more substance to it, but I felt there should be more going on. It's fine, and totally without flaws, but just isn't as interesting as the preceding two pale 'n' hoppy fellas.

I'll admit to not expecting much from Hook Island Red. The 6% ABV was sending me warning signals about cloying toffee and caramel flavours. Thankfully I was completely wrong in my prejudices. While it does have a significant toffee component, it's balanced by and blended with big fresh and resinous hops. The inclusion of rye adds a spicy complexity before a smooth fruity finish packed with ripe strawberries. It can be difficult to impress with a malt-heavy red ale, but this one gets excellent use out of all its ingredients.

And lastly, from the bottle, comes Brick Field Brown Ale, a very welcome addition in these brown-ale-starved parts. I like the masses of chocolate in this but did not appreciate the carbonation. It was far too fizzy and that created a dryness which tragically almost cancels out the sweeter features. Here's one that would definitely benefit from cask dispense. As-is, I don't really feel I got to taste it properly.

A huge thanks to Francesca from Five Points and everyone who put the night together.

A short while later, it was the turn of Gipsy Hill Brewery, newly brought to Dublin under the auspices of the Carlow Brewing Company. They occupied a few of the taps at L. Mulligan Grocer to introduce themselves.

We began with Beatnik, a pale ale at just 3.8% ABV. It doesn't seem like a lightweight, however, beginning with the alluring grapefruit-and-weed aroma. The flavour goes big on hops too, reminding me a little of that other low-octane, high-impact beaut Fyne Ales's Jarl. On draught I found it a bit thin, the hops turning harsh and acidic without enough body to support them. That was less of an issue with a slightly warmer can later on: here there was an almost sticky layer of malt candy and plenty of substance. In both, the finish is quick, setting up the next mouthful. Overall a very decent hoppy banger and well suited to sessioning.

The middle child is Southpaw, an amber ale. There was something slightly off-putting about the aroma here, a certain plasticky quality. That translates to a harsh unsubtle bitterness in the foretaste, one which only gets a little balance from the toffee malt. The underlying issue may be that it's a mere 4.2% ABV, which doesn't provide enough gravity to carry the substantial hop charge. It feels a little watery in the middle, and then the finish is a rough acidic burn. This seems to be an amber ale afraid of its true nature and unwilling to turn up the crystal malt. It would be a better beer if it did.

Last of the core beers on offer was Hepcat session IPA, strongest so far at a whopping 4.6% ABV. No qualms about the body here: it's lovely and big and fluffy, bringing some seriously herbal grassy dankness and savoury caraway seed with it. Just before it goes completely serious there's a delightful burst of fresh mango and pineapple, lightening everything up, before it's back to the grass for the bitter finish. While it has some features in common with Beatnik there's more going on, as I guess befits the higher strength. It's still easy drinking and wonderfully refreshing, fulfilling the session role perfectly.

Two tall-can specials were also on the go, beginning with Simcoe, another low-strength pale ale, this time only 3.6% ABV. It has amazing body for all that, plenty to carry all of the hop. And there's a lot of hop, beginning with a gorgeous stonefruit aroma, all peaches and apricot. My first impression on tasting was of a smooth and dry beer, with a strong mineral component. The hops emerge here first as fruity chew sweets, then gradually turning bitterer, providing a lovely kick for a finish. Simcoe is not usually my favourite hop, but whatever they've done here to tame it really calms down its harsher tendencies.

Doyen is a collaboration with Fuller's. This IPA is another dry one, with a kind of celery cooked-veg flavour at first. The middle brings a bigger hit of marmalade, something I very much associate with Fuller's, particularly in beers like Bengal Lancer and Oliver's Island. It doesn't have a whole lot to say beyond that, which would normally be fine except that it's 6.5% ABV, a point where I think it's fair to expect greater complexity, or at least a bigger flavour. It's quite an anodyne beer, overall, and not as special as I'd hoped for.

The following day I trekked over to Urban Brewing where Gipsy Hill's JT was doing a collaboration brew. On bar was Haymaker, a pilsner. They've used German hops in this, but the more modern fruit-forward ones, and the result is enormously fruity. Juicy peach and summer strawberries are the main act, while there's almost zero bitterness. I felt aggrieved that it didn't taste like a proper pils for almost a minute, before I settled into it and began to really enjoy the pint in front of me. The beautiful soft texture makes it extremely quaffable and I can imagine it as a perfect outdoorsy summer beer.

Thanks this time to the O'Hara's, Gipsy Hill and Mulligan's folks. Plenty of really solid ungimmicky drinking here. I'd love if Dublin's brewers were able to return the favour in London.