There goes the summer

Here's an official end to the summer, and an official end to all the fruit beers that Irish breweries have been turning out in recent months. Although, given the idiosyncrasies of Irish beer seasonality, I could well still be writing about them until Christmas.

To the sunny terrace of The Taphouse in Ranelagh first. What brought me through the doors was a new one from Third Barrel called Stripey Paint. It's a watermelon-flavoured gose, they tell us, and despite the slightly dirty glass, it looked well: sparkling clear and golden. Effort was needed to identify the gose aspect because the watermelon syrup, which doesn't really taste like watermelon, absolutely dominates it. That makes it sickly sweet, the effect like some kind of sugar-coated hard candy. It's there at the beginning and runs all the way through, gumming up the palate by the end. Urgh. There's only a very faint hint of salinity to remind us of the purported style, which also serves to help clean things up a little. Coupled with the light 4% ABV and fizz, it somehow managed to work as the thirst-quencher I needed when the temperature hit 26°C. On the downside, I was stuck tasting the fake-fruit gunk for the rest of the afternoon.

Rye River's summer seasonal was a strawberry-flavoured lager called Once Upon a Time in Wexico, referencing Co. Wexford, famous for its strawberries. The ABV of 4.5% matches the brewery's flagship Helles, so I'm guessing nothing more involved has happened than the blending of that with some strawberry flavouring. If they formulated a new "Mexican-style" lager specifically for it, I don't see the point. There's a strong aroma of tinned strawberries, concentrated to the point where I doubt any real fruit was involved. That's somewhat muted in the flavour, or at least nowhere near as honkingly strong, but it's the only distinctive feature the beer has. Otherwise, there's a passable crisp fizz, but I got little to no malt or hops. If all you want is a beer that smells of strawberries, then this answers the need, and I'm sure it went down a storm at many an event bar during festival season. Where I drank it, it had the misfortune to be sharing a line-up with guilty pleasure Früli, which does beer plus strawberries in a far superior way. Once Upon a Time is enough for this recipe.

A rather less genteel dessert beer came from Rascals earlier in the summer: their Fruit Sundae Gelato Sour, responsibility for which is shared with Bådin of Norway. Despite the ice cream parlour stripes on the label, this is a serious affair, at all of 6% ABV. It doesn't look like a dessert, being a dull shade of earthy ochre. The aroma is light and zesty, however, and it's here that the souring culture is most perceptible. It's lactose rather than Lactobacillus that drives the flavour, and indeed the smooth and heavy texture. Vanilla forms the base of the profile, to which is added a mish-mash of fruit concentrates (four are named on the ingredients) with strawberry and blackberry being the most apparent. And that's it. While the mouthfeel reflects the high ABV, the flavour complexity doesn't. The weight also means it doesn't work as a summer refresher, and is more of a pudding substitute. This is simple and inoffensive stuff, so long as oodles of lactose and rivers of fruit gunk don't bother you.

That's me ready for the cooler days and darker evenings, then.

Midsummer mixtape

Round-up time! Here's a small sample of what the Irish breweries have been throwing my way lately.

There's another classically quirky Kinnegar can label on DL - Donegal Lager. The description is short on technicals, just that it's "light, refreshing and crushable" -- the sort of thing you might put on tap in the pub in happier times. It's a pure and bright golden colour and keeps its head well. Sweet golden syrup is the centre of the flavour, with just a mild lacing of Saaz-y green herb. If I had to label it with a lager sub-style I'd go with Czech světlý ležák: it has that balance of smoothness and hop bitters at a very reasonable 4.5% ABV, drinking more like 12° despite being closer to 10° in gravity. If such nit-picking doesn't interest you, all you need to know is that this is a clean, crisp and well-made lager with all the essential qualities though lacking a little in distinctive features. Independent Irish breweries tend not to package beers like this because the industrials have the market sewn up between them. It's good to see one of them taking on the challenge, and if easy-drinking lager is your thing, buy this one.

Shaka canned is next, an east coast pale ale from Lough Gill. Amarillo and Azacca, says the label, for "tropical aromas and an orange citrus flavour". I will give it the first part, though the tropicality is definitely more from the candy aisle than fresh produce: Skittles and bubblegum, not actual fruit. I expected a burst of flavour to follow from this but it turned out very plain, offering a buzz of mineral fizz with very little hop or malt character behind. Eventually a little of that candy emerges, but only enough to make it taste like an off-brand tropical fruit soft drink. "Lalt". When the half-hearted sweetness subsides, a dreggy savoury yeast aftertaste remains. Yes it's only 4.6% ABV but there should be enough room in that to make a decent fist of a fruity pale ale. This has a fun and intriguing aroma but somehow completely fails to deliver in the flavour afterwards.

Usually one of the country's busiest breweries, O Brother had been worryingly quiet during The Unpleasantness. They came back with a new hazy yellow American IPA, because apparently they're quite popular these days. On Reflection is the name; 6.4% the ABV. It's the colour of a beaten egg, with a meringue of foam on top. Booze is first in the flavour, then a kind of concentrated oily orange, the combination like neat triple sec. Notorious fruit-bomb hops Azacca and El Dorado have been used, and I guess that their usual cheery Starburst effect has been amped up to something sticky lurking at the back of the cocktail cabinet. Maybe it's because there's an echo of Terry's Chocolate Orange in all this, but I get a not-unpleasant note of dark chocolate and coffee too. A slightly harsh medicinal factor creeps in late, before a gritty dry finish. It's quite a workout, and very unusual, but enjoyable with it. A lot is packed in here. Think of it as a session double IPA.

Keeping it hazy but retreating to a 5% ABV pale ale is Hopfully and Indoor Yoga, continuing with Metalman as their host brewery. It's very hazy indeed, so points off, or in favour, depending on your preference. No arguing with that aroma, full of mandarin and mango, a brush of garlic and heavier alcohol than I'd have expected. Juice to the fore on tasting, real fresh-squeezed OJ, before it turns lighter and spritzier, like a soluble vitamin C tablet. There's a small kick of grit and a faint savoury scallion quality, but really this is genuine juice through and through. There's even a balancing citrus bitterness in the finish, a more refreshing conclusion than the big bag of vanilla you get more often. The texture is weighty and satisfying, without it turning overly thick. This is really nicely done: an excellent balance between mouthwatering tang and creamy roundness. Accessible, yet special. It would be well worth their while making this a core beer.

Kildare Brewing did a re-up of their charity IPA Lock Down, called Lock Down Extended. This time I made no contribution to the good cause as the brewery kindly sent me samples for free. The ABV is down slightly to 5.8% from 6.3% and it's still a hazy and juicy job. The aroma is much better this time, bringing a real tropical power play: concentrated passionfruit and pineapple. That echoes in the finish too, which is nice, but there's something wrong in the middle. It's a twang, subtle at first but but becoming more prominent as the beer warms. Burnt rubber, lemon washing-up liquid and some damp cardboard. It runs across the palate quickly and then it's back to happy fruit, but something has gone awry in the technicals here, I think.

Trouble, too, has taken the hazy route with its new micro IPA Love Below. It's only 2.6% ABV and uses wheat, rye and oats, presumably to bulk up the body. And it works quite well: there's no unpleasant thinness here. There's not much of an aroma, just a slight citrus buzz. The flavour is quite sweet: ripe peach and tangerine. Its bitter side arrives late, bringing quite a harsh tang, like aspirin. That doesn't last long and the whole thing finishes up quickly. For a very low-strength beer it does a great job, tasting convincingly like a proper pale ale, if not a very exciting one. That aspirin harshness spoiled my enjoyment a little, but it's otherwise decent.

Clancy's Cans is the new limited edition series from Ballykilcavan, beginning with Raspberry Vice. Despite the informal naming convention around the v-word, and the use of raspberries, it is not in the Berliner weisse style, but an "American raspberry wheat beer". The colour is striking: the pinkish-grey hue of real summer fruit in a blender. The aroma is mostly sweet, though with a tart edge as well: again, very real. The flavour less so. "Jammy" says the can, and it is, but more the jelly-like candy jam in a Jammy Dodger than actual jam jam. From that first impression it gets bitterer; a mix of the tart fruit and an unusually assertive hop bitterness. It might have turned out harsh were it not for the texture: a soft and mellow pillowy effect making great use of that wheat. Overall it's a bit silly, a bit novelty-driven, but that's perfectly fair, especially when there's nothing really like it on the market at the moment. Porterhouse goers who enjoyed the occasional pint of Früli will likely welcome this.

Meanwhile Rye River rebooted its own limited series with Intergalactic Yuzu, a fruited gose brewed in (remote) collaboration with Yeastie Boys. Although yuzu is the title fruit, there's also lime, lemon, mandarin, and something called sudachi which I'm certain they made up as a joke. It's a light 3.9% ABV and a pale orange colour with just a slight misting of haze. A gentle mineral tartness is the opening gambit, followed by the citrus where of course lime is dominant. There's the concentrated lime oil of a cordial as well as spritzier juice. The blurb suggests a margarita but it's too sweet for that; more like the fresh squeeze of a wedge in a gin and tonic. That sweetness does start to cloy a little as it warms in the sun. I found myself craving the cool tartness more and more as it went. It's a decent sort, all-in-all, though doesn't quite deliver on its highly-involved premise.

Galway Bay also talks a big game on this new one, Oregon Grown: all about going to the Pacific North West and selecting only the finest, like an actor in an instant coffee ad, then adding the hand-picked cones every ten minutes for the duration of brewing. What we've got is a pale and hazy IPA of 6.6% ABV brewed with Idaho 7, El Dorado and Strata. It smells dank and weedy, but there's also the pissy tinge of beer left on hops too long. It's a thick beast, with a concentrated tropical effect, like a mango and apricot cordial, the sort of taste you usually find congealed on the neck of a brightly-coloured cocktail syrup bottle. Maybe it's because it tastes like cocktail cordial, but it's hot as well, tasting like an 8%+ double IPA. The finish brings the grassy piss thing back, just when you think you're done. This will have its fans, and I respect the effort that went into it, but it tastes over-egged to me: too much, too hard and completely lacking in balance. Those of a sensitive disposition should approach with caution; hop bros who think Oranmore should be more like Orange County, this is your moment.

Possibly the strangest offering in today's line-up is YellowBelly's Mad Hatters Tea Party, purporting to be an IPA with matcha green tea and lactose. It pours a pale and hazy orange-yellow colour and smells a little of sticky candy. The flavour expands on that, offering a lurid tropical wonderland of brightly-coloured sweets: Skittles were my first thought, but there's Starburst and lemon drops in here too. Yes it's sweet -- thanks a bunch, lactose -- but it's not overdone. Furthermore, I think the hops are making a real contribution, like in a proper IPA. Kazbek I'm not familiar with, but Hüll Melon's signature juicy grape is definitely making a contribution here. Not much sign of the tea, mind, maybe just a leafy papery effect on the end, but I'm quite prepared to believe I imagined that. My preference would be for something drier, maybe ditching the lactose, but on balance I regard this as one of those crazy experiments that actually worked.

Not an experiment but a new addition to YellowBelly's core range is Pirate Bay session IPA. I shouldn't have read the hops in advance -- Centennial, Hallertau Blanc, El Dorado and Idaho 7 -- because I spent too much of my time drinking it trying to pick them out. There's a solid, classic American citrus base, so that'll be the Centennial. And then a big fruit-candy chew thing which says El Dorado to me. The sweetness dominates the whole picture, coupled with a heavy texture, bigger than I'd expect for 4.5% ABV, to the point where I question the beer's sessionability. Murk plays a role too, from the distressing grey colour, to a rough grittiness in the mouthfeel, to a meaty umami taste behind the fruit. Overall I'm not a fan. The limes and oranges are promising but they need a vigorous polishing up.

The blurb on Lineman's Vesper is a little confusing: "tropical and citrus". Well which is it? Sweet or bitter; east-coast or west-coast; fashionable or good? It's a pale ale of 5.4% ABV, mostly quite clear and the golden orange colour of sunsets and tartrazine. The aroma is juicy: mandarin and pineapple. The citrus comes in early in the flavour: a gentle spritz of fresh lemon and grapefruit. When that fades there's a softer jaffa and honeydew melon, and a little candy chew, on a crumbly biscuit base. It's nicely balanced -- accessible but complex too -- and thoroughly clean and precise. Just the sort of perfectly-honed understated excellence that has become Lineman's signature.

That was followed a few weeks later by a dark lager called Undertone. It's a deep amber colour and quite murky with it. The aroma is beautifully rich and sweet, all fresh-baked cookies and old-style candystore. The latter is down to a liquorice quality that forms the centre of the flavour. Around this are crisp and slightly roasty dark malts -- rye bread and fruitcake. I noticed it poured quite thickly and there's certainly a big mouthfeel, especially at just 4.2% ABV. Still, it's a lager through and through, refreshing and sinkable with a quick clean finish. I'm not usually a fan of these medium-dark amber lagers but there's enough going on in this one to hold my interest.

Wicklow Wolf's dismissal of the daft rule that stouts don't belong in summer gives us a big finish. Imperial Four Bean Apex is a variant of their excellent Apex oatmeal stout, with the ABV raised to 9.5% ABV and the inclusion of vanilla, cocoa, coffee and tonka. Tonka beans don't mess about, and unsurprisingly they're the main feature in this concoction, beginning with an aroma of mince pies. That Christmassy cinnamon saturates the flavour, with the roasted coffee being the only other bean effect I could pick out. And the stout beneath? Forget about it, it's tonka town. This is quite an enjoyable beer, smooth and easy drinking despite the strength. But considering all the convolutions of the recipe it's just not very complex: an example of the one-good-dimension genre. A square of dark chocolate alongside helped round it out. If you're a tonka fan, or just tonka-curious, this is where you apply.

After a fairly sedate couple of months, the Irish breweries have really sprung to life in a big way. I've developed quite a backlog of reviews so I'll be picking up the pace for the next while. Stand by...

Taste this

I mentioned in Monday's post how microbreweries don't seem to take their own stands at Taste of Dublin any more. It is, I'm sure, a very expensive event to attend, and while you're likely to reach a crowd of punters who are probably not already familiar with your product, I would question how much repeat trade you're likely to get out of them once the tents are folded and the Iveagh Gardens returned to the citizenry.

Across the park from Diageo's Open Gate Brewery, Alltech had a similar landmark bar for its Station Works and Lexington breweries. From the former there were two new beers, including the latest in the Foxes Rock range, Foxes Rock India Pale Lager. Now, I will admit at the outset that I don't really get this style. There's enough of a hoppy buzz in any properly made pilsner so why go chasing after the IPA crowd with this neither-fish-nor-fowl type of beer? Oh yeah: money. OK then. Would any brewer care to admit to brewing an IPL for the sheer love of it?

Abstract witterings aside, real life FRIPL is 5.2% ABV and a highly attractive deep gold colour. It definitely misses its step on the lager front: the body is too heavy, with very ale-like esters and no crisp lager cleanness. And nor is the flavour a good example of IPA: it's floral-sweet and intensely sharp, like the taste of perfume, and that lasts long into the finish as a cloying, abrasive bitterness. It seems like a beer that doesn't quite know what it's supposed to be but it definitely isn't fun to drink.

The other new Station Works beer is brimming with fun, however. It's brewed, I believe, for the Cremin & Radley distribution company and is marketed under the new Bartleys brand. No prizes for guessing what fruit juice has been added to Strawbeeri, and especially not if you've tasted it. It's very strawberry, and extremely sweet. A soft texture adds to the jammy effect and it reminds me a lot of that Belgian classic Früli. Subtle as a brick through the greenhouse window but it hit my sweet tooth just right.

Molson Coors had also staked out a claim for Franciscan Well where I had just a swift pint of their Summer Saison. This is a modest 5% ABV with an invigorating pear-skin edge and an almost velvety smoothness. Very easy drinking and great for a mid-point palate refresh.

On then to the Dunbrody House complex in the corner of the park. Here the hotel had set up a mini lecture area for Chef Dundon to talk barbecue, the restaurant had the standard three-dish offering that all the other Taste participants had, and down one side Dunbrody's on-site brewery, Arthurstown, was pouring a mix of regulars and specials. Arthurstown American IPA was apparently served at Killarney this year but I missed it. It's a 6% ABV bruiser, quite a hazy pale amber and apparently only uses a little bit of Sorachi Ace, which surprised me because it tastes and smells almost one-dimensionally coconutty to me. Light and clean with it, however, and other people I thrust it at found it dank and complex so it must just be me who got hit with the coconuts. De gustibus non est disputandum. Either way, I enjoyed it, and especially the lightness of touch it showed on quite a big ABV.

The remains of the afternoon played out at the Premier International Beer Heaven stand, a fixture of Taste quite possibly since year one. From a distance I had been wondering which new American brewery was responsible for the distinctive paddle-like tap handles but closer inspection revealed it to be Bavaria's own Maisel, going full yank with its craftish range. Among them: Maisel Pale Ale, simple and fun with the clean bitterness of a real American pale ale but wearing more of a German costume up front in the form of a green celery hop bite; Maisel India Ale raises the ABV from 5.2% to 6.3% but hits pretty much the same flavour points, except more of them. The strength is well hidden, however. And best of the lot was Maisel Choco Porter, a lovely balancing act of sweet milky chocolate and dry roasted malt, rich and full while staying clean and drinkable, and all done without the addition of any non-Reinheitsgebot additives. Impressive, but also lovely to just knock back. Except it's 6.5% ABV.

And because we weren't wobbly enough already, Dean broke out the good stuff before we left, starting with a bomber of Widmer Brothers Brrrbon '12. This 9.4%-er is a mucky orange colour and smells of vanilla and lime, meaning the brewery definitely got its money's worth out of that bourbon barrel. It's smooth at first but a growing sweetness makes it more and more difficult to drink as it goes along. I found myself struggling desperately to appreciate its intensity before realising that I just actually don't like it.

It was followed by Widmer Brothers Raspberry Russian Imperial Stout '12 which was much better. Here the 9.3% ABV is better hidden and the raspberry is used to full effect, in both the aroma and the flavour. You get lots of chocolate and lots of tart juicy fruit in both, while the base beer is dry and remarkably light. The hopping is generous too and this does fight a little with the raspberry acidity but the overall picture holds together coherently: bold, but not overdone.

And speaking of overdone, that's the bit where I nabbed a last glass of Open Gate 1516 pils before the shutters came down there and stumbled out into town and around the corner for a comedown pint of Via Maris at Against the Grain.

Lots and lots of beer is definitely my preferred methodology for tackling a food festival.

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.

The sweet taste of summer

It's that time of year already when the Porterhouse sets up an eleven-day celebration of Belgian beer across its estate of pubs (well, possibly: I'm not sure if the new Shanghai branch is participating). The draught list isn't exactly brimming with rarities and is a little light on the dark beers, but there's something for everyone I'm sure. There certainly was plenty for me when I went along to the launch on Thursday evening last.

Fruit beers have always featured strongly in the line-up, and this year sees the return once again of quaffable Newton apple, plus the inclusion of house strawberry wheat beer Früli -- both favourites of mine, even if I do only drink a couple of pints of each per year around this time. The fruit newbie is Kriek Boon, and while I'm sure I've had this on many past occasions I've no record of it here other than in a sauce at a Porterhouse gig some years back. The House of Boon, though not quite in the top flight, are one of the better-reputed lambic breweries so I knew this would be good. I was a little surprised at how unsour it was. In that, what sourness the heavy, sticky red beer has comes not from the lambic but from a chewy cherry skin flavour -- a strong, concentrated cherry taste that I liked a lot. There's of course a sweetness to it too, though despite the stickiness, it's not overpowering: fresh and fruity rather than cough mixture sickly. Nicely positioned between the tooth-stripping acidity of Cantillon Kriek and the tooth-rotting sugar of Floris, Boon was a nostalgic reminder of how I ever came to like Belgian fruit beers in the first place.

For those in search of less frivilous Belgian beers, the Porterhouse are offering the strong toffee-banana stylings of Gouden Carolus and the rather astringent St Bernardus Tripel. On the lighter side, they have LeFebvre's Blanche de Bruxelles, a witbier I've seen around in bottled form but never took the time to try. It's a light and zesty affair -- slightly dry and with quite a low carbonation, at least on this draught outing. What separates it from a million other wits is a piquancy on the tail end, a similar sort of incense note that I found in Kiuchi's Classic Ale recently. It's not massively complex, this, but it's always nice to have a simple session beer that's a little bit different from the norm.

The Porterhouse Belgian Beer Festival is on until Sunday. Thanks to Rachel and the team for the launch invite.

Another blog blag

The Porterhouse's annual Belgian Beer festival doesn't kick off officially until this day week, but the grand launch by the Belgian ambassador happened in the Temple Bar branch last night and yours truly was invited along to sample the wares, hassle the management, and generally rip the arse out of their generous hospitality. Again.

Some fairly high concept Belgiany nibbles were rolled out, including mini pots of very authentic stoemp with not-so-authentic cocktail sausages and a Kriek Boon sauce. Gratinated mussels were the highlight for me, though the Früli jelly would have been much more manageable had spoons been supplied. Anyway, we were well fed.

I was quite surprised to see one of the special draughts they've brought in for this is Chimay Blanc. I had been labouring under the impression that Westmalle Dubbel was the only tap Trappist around, but there you go. I don't remember the last time I had this tripel from Scourmont, so it was first on my roster yesterday. I've noted before that Chimay beers tend towards the bitter, and this one is decidedly tart all the way through. It lacks the fruity-spiciness that I like in my tripel, but it's still a big and tasty beer.

Früli is a regular at the Porterhouse and is being brought to the fore for the duration of the festival. I'm a big fan of this the strawberriest of strawberry witbiers. Newton apple wit has made a welcome return and sinks just as easily and deliciously as last year. I didn't go near the Leffe Blonde, a beer I understand InBev Ireland are trying to get into more and more mainstream bars. I'm not especially fond of it, but hey, if it serves as a gateway ale for less adventurous punters, good luck to them. And, strange as it sounds, InBev are still very much the little guy in this country.

The last temporary tap was pouring Delerium Tremens. I've never had this on draught before and found it slightly unsettling. The bottled version has a delicious interplay of flavours going on, but yesterday it was being poured exceedingly cold and it was hard to determine any of that. The carbonation was off too, making it flatter than I would have expected and little bit cloying and difficult. I was back on the Newton after just one.

It would have been nice to have the Westmalle Dubbel in again, just to put a bit of colour into a parade of blonde ales and fruit beers. I also didn't get a chance to examine which, if any, bottled Belgians had been brought in. I'm guessing Hercule Stout is too much to hope for, but if there's anything particularly special in the fridges I'll be sure and let you know. The festival runs until Sunday 27th.

(Thanks to Fiona, Jim and Dave at the Porterhouse for the invitation and conversation. More of this kind of thing, please.)

London (not) for beginners

It's 3.30 yesterday afternoon. I've just come out of a meeting in Camden, north London and have arranged with a colleague to meet at Paddington Station at 5 for the train back to Heathrow. At Camden Town tube station I discover that the Northern line is severely disrupted and all service on the Circle and Hammersmith & City lines has been suspended. The question: have I time for a quick pint of St. Peter's excellent cask ale at the Jerusalem Tavern in Clerkenwell?
'Course I have.

Had I not been navigating on the hoof I'd have hopped out at Euston, walked to Euston Square, and taken the Metropolitan line to Farringdon. I didn't spot this easy option, however, and opted instead to leg it from Euston, across Bloomsbury, past Gray's Inn field and into Clerkenwell.

I arrived at the Jerusalem in Britton Street at 4.15. It's a strange, simple little pub, furnished in rickety wood and giving the appearance of being held together by paint and varnish. The taps on the bar serve Bitburger and Aspall's cider. Behind it, however, a row of spigots promise beers from the pub's parent brewery: St. Peter's in Suffolk. Though tempted to order something I know, and compare its cask and bottled incarnations, I went instead for a pint of mild, a beer style which is nigh-on impossible to find here at home. St. Peter's Mild is very dark, with a thick creamy head. The taste is indeed mild, offering subtle coffee and roasted grain notes.

As I sunk my mild, I consulted my map and figured that I'd be able to take a much shorter route back to Paddington: from Farringdon, changing at Baker Street. And that meant I had time for another pint. This time I went for St. Peter's Grapefruit beer, having read good things about it, and to find out how the wizards of Bungay do fruit beer. More than anything, it reminded me of Früli. It doesn't look like it, taste like it, smell like it or feel like it, but it has a similar beer-fruit relationship, with the fruit definitely wearing the trousers. It's clear, almost headless, a deep red-gold colour and tastes overwhelmingly of real grapefruit. Marvellously refreshing and innovative.

At this point I took my leave and was back at Paddington at the appointed hour. We arrived at Heathrow with time to spare. Anyone who flies at all regularly between Ireland and Heathrow will be very familiar with the complex of metal tubes housing gates 80 to 90 of Terminal 1, affectionately known as "The Paddyshack". Time was, the Paddyshack Wetherspoons had Theakstons on draught and the last couple of pints at the airport was something I always looked forward to. Alas those days are gone, and it's necessary to drink landside in order to get anything better than Heineken these days. Armed with this knowledge I led us to the main landside Wetherspoons, where the handpumps were pouring Schiehallion, Marston's Pedigree, Bombardier and Deuchars IPA. The last of these was the only stranger to me, so that's where I started. I was disappointed from the first sip. This is a rather bland affair, lacking the hoppy citrusy warmth one expects from British IPA. Instead, it's creamy and smooth with only the fainest hop character at the very back.

Having polished that off I should really have opted for a Schiehallion, knowing that I really like it. Instead, I decided to give a dull beer a second chance. Having been disappointed with bottled Marston's Pedigree, I tried a draught pint and found it to be exactly the same forgettable sensation. Marston's should be proud that their bottling process manages to reproduce the cask experience perfectly. If only it were an experience worth having...

Far flung fruit

The Session is upon us once more, and this time the theme is fruit beers. The Low Countries, and Belgium in particular, are the spiritual home of fruit beer. Brewers there have been softening lambics with fruit syrup and spicing up witbiers with orange peel since time immemorial. I've decided to step away from the native styles, however, and go for something a bit different: exotically-themed Benelux fruit beers. Surely there can't be too many other Sessioneers writing on that today.

So first up is the delightfully-named Iki Beer. It hails from the Netherlands but is very much pitched on a Japanese theme. As well as the usual hops and barley, cloudy orange Iki contains green tea and yuzu, a Japanese citrus fruit. Refreshment appears to be the product's main aim. Alas, what that actually gives us is blandness. The foretaste is dominated by lots of gas making it difficult to taste anything. The aftertaste is quite strong on lagery malt, with the hops level turned slightly higher than the average lager. But of fruit and tea there is only the faintest trace at the end. I'd have hoped for a bit more citrus out of this one, so a bad start to the day's fruitiness.

I admit I'm stepping outside the remit of the Session theme with my next one, Palmnut from the Belgian Mongozo range of African-themed fair trade beers. When one describes a beer as "amber", one does not normally mean to imply the serious quantity of suspended floaty bits characteristic of that gemstone, but Mongozo Palmnut is very definitely amber. You'd almost expect to see a dino-blood-carrying mosquito in amongst the debris. It tastes pretty smooth, though, and carries the full weight of its 7.5% alcohol. Unfortunately there's not much else going on: no nuttiness or fruitiness, just vaguely acidic sour notes, like a lesser class of Rodenbach. I am none the wiser as to what palm nuts actually taste like. Strike two on the fruit quest.

Staying in the same range, my last offering is Mongozo Banana, and there is no shortage of fruit here. Two years ago I reviewed Banana Bread Beer and remarked how well-balanced its banana flavour was. Mongozo cares not for such subtlety: this beer presents a rampant banana dominating everything else. It's incredibly sweet, to the point of turning sour again, and only the soft fluffy texture stops it from being hard to drink. I have little doubt that every single person I know would hate this beer, but I have a soft spot for it. Bananas on the label; bananas on the palate; bananas out and proud. It makes up for the lack of fruit in my other two beers all on its own.

To sign off I'd like to give props to Greg over at Beer, Beats & Bites for hosting this Session and for choosing such a daring topic. Fruit beer has a very bad reputation among beer fans of my acquaintance, and I'm sure there were groans at keyboards across the beer blogging world when the topic was announced. But bunging fruit into beer is one major way of Keeping It Interesting, and for me that's a big part of what makes beer worthwhile. Oh, and if anyone's interested in my actual recommendations for good fruit beer, two very different ones are Früli and Cantillon's Lou Pepe Kriek: both Belgian, natch.

Original gravity

It rained again today, starting conveniently as I was passing The Porterhouse who are gearing up for their Belgian Beer Festival, beginning Thursday. I watched the downpour from the third floor window, in what used to be the brewery when they made their beer on site, over a pint of Newton apple witbier which is one of the specials they've bought in for the Festival. Newton is made by Belgian brewery LeFebvre and reminds me a bit of strawberry beer Früli, in that it's fruit first, beer second. The apples are juicy green ones and absolutely dominate the taste. If you wait to the very end there's a vague wheaty character alongside, but mostly we're talking apples here. At a mere 3.5% this beer goes down incredibly easy and leaves you wanting another straight after. A wonderful summer session beer, just a shame we aren't having a wonderful summer.

While I was on site I took the opportunity to reappraise one of the house beers. The first time I tried The Porterhouse's TSB, I was sorely disappointed. This is their attempt at an English-style cask bitter, and comes out of an authentic handpump of the sort not seen anywhere else in the country. I couldn't remember quite why I'd taken against TSB, but I've had a lot of English bitter in the meantime, so I decided a do-over was in order. While my experience was not negative second time round, I maintain that this is not a serious competitor to most real English ale. My favourite English beers are either the very light, flat quaffing ones with a tea-like quality, Theakston's being the benchmark, or are the heavy hop-laden warm ones of which there are many fine examples, usually with multiple Xs in the name. TSB is aiming to be the former type but just can't cut it. It just doesn't have the subtlety, being full-flavoured with malt and hops, creating a dry bitterness which I find much more characteristic of an Irish stout. Hardly surprising, I suppose, given The Porterhouse's specialisation in the area. TSB passes muster as bitter, but as the only cask bitter available for hundreds of miles, I'd rather have something straight from the textbook.

Früli amazing

It is not my intention to turn this blog into a rolling account of the seasonal beers available at the Porterhouse, but I can’t pass without mentioning the incumbent. Früli is in the Belgian light fruit beer genre. The base is a gently frothy inert wheat beer, but the overwhelming character comes from the fruit, strawberries in this case. And they did not skimp on the strawberries, either: Früli is a solid opaque red colour with more than a hint of the smoothie about its appearance and taste. It seems pretty obvious that tub after tub of real strawberries have simply been liquidised and dropped into the mix, juice-bar style. The result is outstanding: 100% fruit drink, yet 100% beer. Nice one.