Rather would Hatherwood?

Lidl has given its own-brand Irish beers a smart makeover, and removed the worrying "limited edition" wording from some of the good ones, happily. They've also brought some of their UK counterparts over, and I picked up a set last time I was in. €1.29 a can was the damage. As far as I know these were brewed at Shepherd Neame, though no provenance is given. "Hatherwood" is the wholesome-sounding fake English brewery.

There's nothing wholesome about an awesome craft citrus-infused pale ale. Plunged Orange, at 6% ABV, looks to be stealing the clothes of Elvis Juice, or at least undercutting them. The can goes to the trouble of naming four different hops but I couldn't taste any of them, just a sickly orange syrup. The aroma too is like an orangeade, one of the 1980s ones, created before anyone thought to put actual oranges in. It's easy drinking and doesn't get cloying, but really doesn't taste like beer. I can see this working very well as a fridge-filler for parties. It's inexpensive and inoffensive. Snobby beer swirlers should drink something else: this is plainly not for them, and that's not its fault.

How to pick between the next pair: an IPA at 5.4% ABV and an "American" IPA supercharged to 5.5%? I decided to start at the lower level and work up.

Bitter Iron is a perfect clear amber-gold in the glass. The name does prepare you for what happens in the flavour: a harsh metallic bitterness softened only slightly with a syrupy artificial fruit, like Lucozade. There's a harsh dry scratch at the back of the throat, and it leaves the palate in a cloud of old musty dust. There's maybe a wizened old geezer somewhere in England who accepts that this is what IPA is supposed to taste like, but it's like no English IPA I know. It feels like an effort has has been made to balance old-school IPA bitterness with modern sweet hop fruit but it hasn't worked at all.

Let's see what happens when we go US-style. The colour of Twisted Knot is different -- a coppery amber -- but as well as the strength being similar, the hop bill is similar and the dry metallic aroma is similar too. The flavour differs, however. There's a quite smoky acridity and a roasted bite akin to what you'd find in a dry stout. It's quite a shock from something believing itself an American IPA. Not unpleasant, though. That metallic bitterness becomes a more luxurious liquorice and it's altogether cleaner and more balanced than either of the previous. Once you get used to it being not at all to style, this is rather enjoyable. Close your eyes and pretend it's a black IPA.

There are certainly worse uses for €1.29 than any of this lot, and they showed a lot more character than I had been expecting: no watery blandness, for sure. Depending on one's mood, I think each does have a valid use case.

Rack on

The Eight Degrees eighth anniversary series reached half way with number four: Purple Ball. It's a brut IPA dry-hopped with Hallertau Blanc; 6.3% ABV. These tend to be quite pale but this is a cheery shade of amber. There a malt sweetness in the aroma which, again, is out of keeping but very welcome. The texture is big and thick, though doesn't support much flavour. There's a dry bitterness which rises slowly, sprinkled with jaffa orange and a sandalwood spicing. Despite the strength it's very refreshing and easy-drinking, if a little lacking in complexity. The label says it resembles the Franciacorta wines of Italy, and while I don't think I've ever drank one, I doubt this is true. Overall, however, I enjoyed it. Brut purists may say it's not properly dry, but I'll take balance over purity every time.

Orange Ball is orange and is brewed with oranges, as well as passionfruit and guava. At 3.9% ABV it's designed to be easy summer drinking. The aroma is nicely tropical, with a hint of sweet Lilt about it. The texture is as thin as might be expected, with a sharp carbonic bite. This was supposed to be offset by the use of oats, but it isn't. The fruit flavours get a good outing, and it tastes properly juicy even if it doesn't feel it. The sorbet effect of the passionfruit is especially prominent, lasting long into the finish. Tea-like tannins and some hop bittering help balance the sweetness. Texture issues aside, I think this achieves what it sets out to do, and it's quite similar to the other tropical fruit flavoured pale ales on the market. If you're an Elvis Juice sort of person, this is a beer for you.

Just three to go now. I'm expecting something really special when we get to black, but before that let's see what green and maroon bring.

The King isn't quite dead

Citrus-infused pale ale is a trend I thought had almost died out. Sure, the beer that made them popular in these parts, Elvis Juice, is still around as part of BrewDog's core range, but new ones haven't been arriving as fast as they used to. Like with any style of beer, there have been some standouts -- O Brother's The Smasher was the most memorable for me -- and also plenty of dreck. Today I'm deciding which pile on which to place FourPure's Easy Peeler.

It's badged as a "citrus session IPA" and is 4% ABV. It pours a wan shade of white-gold and smells mostly of fizzy orange drink. Unsurprisingly, that's the main feature of the flavour too, laced with bitter herbs, and sweetly oily coconut. I guess that's a decent bit of complexity for what it is. The texture is light without turning watery and there's a lingering rough bitterness that could be orange zest but I think is actually a slightly acrid hop burn. It does no harm, anyway.

My biggest gripe is its lack of real fruit flavour; it tastes of pulp and concentrate rather than fresh squeezed. It's perfectly sinkable and refreshing, however, and one of the few of this sort where I'd happily drink another straight away. The words "easy" and "session" on the can are more than aspirational.

Pooch hooch

Hey, remember BrewDog? I found some notes about some of their beers and made a blog post out of them.

My first ever 500ml BrewDog can was Eight-Bit, an 8% ABV eight-brewery collaboration New England IPA. It's on the money for the style, pouring a murky orange-yellow and packing the flavour with smooth and sweet peach and apricot. No bitterness, no onions or garlic and no yeast bite either: this is straight-up juicy, and rather pleasant with it, if not exactly complex. There's a bit of a burn from the alcohol in the finish, and a slight solvent quality to the aroma, but other than that it hides the booze well. With collaborations there's always the fear that the breweries have done something stupid, something none of them would stand over alone. This is solidly put together, however. Hooray for committee thinking.

Back to the wee cans, then, and Clockwork Tangerine is next, a "citrus session IPA", so Elvis Juice Lite? It's 4.5% ABV and a deep orange-amber colour. This is barely beer, all malt and hops thoroughly covered over by sticky orangeade and artificial spices. As syrup-driven summer fruit beer goes it's fine; I'd go so far as to say it's actively refreshing, yet at the same same time it's everything that's wrong with today's unbeery beers. If you enjoyed this then my next recommendation is an Aperol or Campari and soda.

Something more down-the-line to follow. Native Son, promises straight-up west coast hop flavours and pitches up at 8.5% ABV. The booze is very apparent from the first sip: instead of sharp and clean fizzy bitterness it shows a syrupy heat with solvent notes, the hop flavour definitely coming in second behind the alcohol. That flavour itself is sweet and sticky: jaffa oranges, marmalade and a stronger, bitterer, lime side. There's very little room for compromise, the bitters and esters relentlessly piling in. I would have liked this cleaner, clearer and sharper, instead of the hot messy booze-bomb I got.

A dark one to go out on: Kamikaze Knitting Club, one of the stars of the BrewDog bar at Alltech 2018 back in the spring. It's a maple stout of 7.5% ABV and smells immediately sweet and heavy as soon as the tab is pulled. This offers a lovely mix of sweet stout flavours: chocolate, coconut, molasses and even a naughty pinch of whisky. Funnily enough, I didn't pick the maple out, and maybe I attributed the woody bark side to something else. It's definitely a lovely beer, though: a strong sweet stout that doesn't go overboard, doesn't play on gimmicks and stays smooth, drinkable and integrated. More of this kind of thing, please, BrewDog.

The brewery's Irish arm is throwing a shindig in Dublin(ish) this weekend, with their own beer and cider plus high-calibre Irish guest brewers. Details here.

Four of a kind

Multiple, near simultaneous, releases from Galway Bay today. Despite breaking in a new brewer, or perhaps because, they've been hard at it over there.

First to come my way, with no fanfare whatsoever, was Galway Bay Export Stout, badged as a very imperial 10.2% ABV in The Black Sheep, though apparently only around 7.8%, according to the brewer. It doesn't even taste as big as that: the roast is light, the coffee element muted and the alcohol very much behaving itself. This is decent quality drinking for sure, but fans of big stout would likely want more of a bang than it delivers.

Off down the other end of the ABV scale next, and an amber ale called Aikau, at just 4.5% ABV. It's a light and zippy little number, putting fun candy sweetness next to some seriously dense and dank hop resins in a mismatched buddy-cop movie of a beer, and every bit as entertaining. While I do miss the marzipan chewiness that marks out darker and stronger amber ales, I'm also pleased that we're spared the bitter sweaty taste which often comes with. While perhaps not a beer to inspire considered and serious analysis, it's a very nice pint: bringing the session IPA lightness of touch to the amber ale genre. A big shout-out to hop variety Mosaic: the bringer of jollity.

Centrepiece of the busy Galway Bay release schedule was Change of the Guard, a collaboration on a technicality, being jointly brewed by new head brewer Will and his predecessor Chris who has moved on to White Frontier Brewery, high in the Swiss Alps. CotG is badged as a "triple red IPA", the first I've ever met. And yes, it's red in colour -- a hazy pinkish really -- and very high in alcohol at 11.5% ABV. The hops march out in formation right from the start: Simcoe, Chinook and Mosaic again, oozing oily resins with passionfruit juiciness and a volatile note of diesel and onions on the finish. The malt provides a substantial dose of caramel to accompany this, but the beer manages to stay dry and not harsh, hot or sticky. Brewing balance into a beer like this is quite an achievement though I can't help thinking it's sort of its undoing as well. One could level the accusation that it's a bit bland: for all the bigness of the recipe there's nothing that makes it stand out. I've tasted this level of flavour intensity in IPAs half its strength. It's a petty quibble, though: Change of the Guard is quality stuff.

Bringing up the rear is Beneath the Brambles which arrived across the chain late last week. It's a blackberry IPA but there's nothing we can do about that at this late stage. I did my best to hold my scepticism about fruited IPAs in check while I gave it a go in Against the Grain. It's an entertaining orangey-purple colour, thoroughly shot through with haze, resembling pink grapefruit juice more than anything. The blackberries were definitely fresh when they went in as their flavour really dominates the foretaste, sumptuously juicy. It would be lovely if matters ended there, but no, it insists on reminding you that it's an IPA. And it does this with a big, hard and harsh bitterness, metallic tasting and scorching the throat. Every mouthful is a two-act play ending in horrible tragedy. Put on a more neutral base, like a wheat beer or pale lager, this would probably be quite fun. I have no objection to big berry flavours in beer; hell, I'll drink a pint of Früli then order a second, but making fruit fight with hops is just not on. You can get away with it if the base ale is pale and light enough, and the hops and fruit are sufficiently complimentary -- version 1 of BrewDog's Elvis Juice being a good example -- but going in hard and heavy with the hops and then expecting the fruit to enhance this is a mistake, and not an enjoyable mistake.

I understand that the pace of new beers at Galway Bay is set to continue, and that we can expect more fruited IPAs too. Well come on, then. Let's get it over with.

Mersey treat

I was given a hotel voucher for Christmas and, after performing full due diligence on the opportunities it offered, decided that one night in Liverpool was the most economical way to make use of it. So on a sunny Saturday morning in late July, myself and herself hopped over the Irish Sea, arriving in Albert Dock in time for coffee at the Tate and a cheery stroll around the International Museum of Slavery.

A beer was in order next and we went the long way about it, taking the Mersey Ferries cruise (surprisingly good) over and around to Birkenhead, where Gallagher's Pub and Barber's is a short walk uphill from the dock. The name isn't just a gimmick either: there is a real working barbershop at the back, just beyond the bar. The pub itself is smartly maintained, perhaps unsurprising when there's a broad military theme to the décor.

Two beers from local brewery Brimstage were on, including its flagship bitter Trapper's Hat. This is leaning towards brown but still safely amber, I guess, and has an approachable 3.8% ABV. And it's properly bitter too, pushing out cleanly acidic lime marmalade notes and balancing them with crunchy wholewheat biscuit. Simple, but nicely done and I'd happily have this as my local beer. The other Brimstage offering was Oyster Catcher, a 4.4% ABV stout. It's big on coffee aroma and the texture is light, so I was expecting something quite simple here. But there are complexities lurking in the darkness. Behind the strong roasted element there's a sharper forest fruit tartness adding a beautiful extra dimension to the flavour. Again, not a multi-layered taste experience, but a damn decent drinking beer.

Just one more before we move on: Stateside Pale Ale, a 5%-er by Sheffield brewer Exit 33. And they've definitely gone for the stereotypes here: a big biting grapefruit pith and zest. One of those beers that reminds you of what actual grapefruit tastes like, not just grapefruity hops. Refreshing and dangerously drinkable at such a stonking strength. I'd better move on before things get messy.

Old Garde

Back in Liverpool, high on my list of drinking venues was The Clove Hitch, a relatively new addition to the city's entertainment district. The basement bar was full but that didn't matter as the restaurant has plenty of beer choice and we were hungry. With my scallop and chorizo starter I had a BrauKunstKeller Laguna. I'd had this IPA before, closer to its home, and wasn't impressed, but the super-heavy bitter resins worked better here as an accompaniment to meaty food than during a festival session. I also got the chance to try my first beer from Manchester's much-lauded Cloudwater Brewery. Well, sort of: Old Garde is a collaboration with south-coasters Burning Sky. It's a bière de garde, pale amber in colour and highly attenuated. And while I'm positive it tasted as the brewers intended, it just wasn't pleasant drinking, tasting off in two different ways simultaneously: a jangling tangy sourness and then the dull buzz of oxidation. Your clothes are ready now, Emperor.

For dessert, Hop Damn, a chilli black IPA by Alphabet Brewing, also based in Manchester. It's 6.1% ABV and arrived properly black with a thin head. Nothing clumsy about the aroma, just a subtle dusting of fresh green hops. On tasting there's a light vegetal bitterness as the centrepiece of the flavour, backed by smooth stouty vanilla and an increasing burnt quality as it warms. There's a beautiful sherbet effervescence to the texture as well. And the chilli? Just a very gradual peppery catch, but no silly tricks. Very well put-together, I thought.

We ended the evening in The Belvedere, a poky little joint that came recommended by ex-Brimstage brewer Mike McGuigan. At 10pm on a Saturday it was packed and a little rowdy but we managed to squeeze into a corner. Just one tickable option for me, one with a Pumpclip Parade-able tap badge: Summer Blaze by Cornish brewery Coastal. It was actually a decent beer: pale gold, a lagerish malt base and then floral, lightly perfumed, hops. Straight-forward, easy-going, inoffensive perhaps, but well-made. As the pub got increasingly chocker, its drinkability became a major plus point. Down the hatch and out we go.

On Sunday it rained, but I'd planned for that and wasn't intending to move very far during the day, though that wasn't going to prevent a decent crawl of pubs. The Philharmonic was just down the street from the hotel, so it would have been rude not to drop in for a swift pint. Liverpool Organic's 24 Carat Gold was on the pumps, and I've always enjoyed their beers in the past. This one is golden and brewed with 100% Brewer's Gold hops, so full marks on the naming there. The bitterness is very low and instead the hops impart a gentle meadowy effect, with elderflower to the fore in particular. The malt keeps its head down. For all its understatedness, I rather liked it, but then it was the day's first beer.

Down the street next to The Fly In The Loaf, a highlight of my last trip to Liverpool, though that was on a busy Friday evening. It's very different on a rainy Sunday afternoon, feeling every bit as cavernous and empty as it looks. Still, the staff were attentive and there was plenty of beer to choose from. It shares a corporate parent with Okell's, so the Manx brewery featured large. Out of sheer curiosity I took a pint of Manx Pale Ale, the lightest in the range, at 3.6% ABV. It's a weak yellow colour and has a waxy lemon flavour which I associate with northern bitters, and Marble's Manchester Bitter in particular. The citrus aroma matches this nicely and there's a crisp cereal finish. I was all excited for the first few mouthfuls but it gets boring very quickly, turning rather watery. Still, it's not really designed for considered analysis and stands up well as a session bitter.

My other half went all craft, choosing a two-thirds of Northern Monk's mocha porter, Northern Star. There's a big coffee aroma in this 5.9% ABV beer, with an added undercurrent of blackberries and damsons. It tastes very sweet, like the coffee creams which inevitably get left behind in chocolate boxes. I could tell there's a proper porter underneath it, but the coffee effect is just laid on too thickly. Two thirds would be too much for me.

Continuing down the hill and just around the corner to The Roscoe Head. This tiny traditional pub manages to squeeze three saloons into its miniscule footprint, each little bigger than a couple of phoneboxes. Trade was brisk but we found a banquette to perch on. The pub's claim to fame is as one of the Magnificent Seven: a rather grand title for the handful of premises which have featured in every edition of CAMRA's Good Beer Guide. My pint of Backyard Brewhouse Centennial IPA was well-kept, though could probably have stood to be served cooler. It's 5% ABV, dark gold and tastes warmingly spicy and rather green, in a good way. There's little by way of citrus, just a slight lime jelly bitterness, but more than anything the flavour put me in mind of gunpowder tea. Not what I was expecting from Centennial hops, but tasty all the same.

Journey's end was a short hop from The Roscoe at a place that's unlikely to catch up with its GBG record: BrewDog Liverpool. This is the biggest of the six BrewDog bars I've been to, and all the more comfortable for the ample seating. Just released a day or two earlier was Elvis Juice, an IPA laced with juices of non-Elvis origin. Orange and grapefruit, I think. It smells like a stiff and resinous IPA and tastes properly bitter: spiky, spicy and dank. The citrus adds a sweet fruit lacing to this, a complexity that doesn't feel tacked-on or out of place. Its mouth-watering acidity is preserved and it's all rather enjoyable, though at 6.7% ABV more of a serious beer than the name and ingredients might suggest.

Also new to the BrewDog line-up is Mashtag 2015, billed as a 10% ABV black barley wine. It's very black, and smells stouty -- dry and roasty, plus a big hit of vanilla from the added oak and, er, vanilla. As you might expect it's very boozy, but smooth and warming with that. The finish has a peppery piquancy and then the bitterness of high quality dark chocolate. For a recipe compiled by a public vote it all holds together very well indeed.

To finish, before a quick dinner and a sprint to the airport, Westbrook Gose, one of those beers I keep seeing pictures of on other people's Twitter but had never seen in real life. I decided to make this the day it stops bothering me. Beer ticking is really just a form of exorcism. So, 4% ABV, hailing from South Carolina, presenting just on the pale side of amber, with skeins of yeast floating through it when poured. It smells how seawater tastes: pungent yet refreshing, and the flavour blends the salt and sour elements really well. Coriander does seem to be the poor relation in modern gose. If I'd poured more carefully I might have got less of a yeast bite, but even that didn't prevent this from being beautifully invigorating and energising which, after this busy couple of days, was exactly what I needed.

I'd recommend Liverpool to anyone looking for an easy, short city break, though if you're coming from these parts it's probably best to wait until the exchange rate recovers. I really picked the wrong summer to make three beery trips to England...