The Twelve Brewers of Christmas 7: Original 7

An impromptu trip to Cork a few weeks back gave me the opportunity to catch up with the draught beers from Original 7. As mentioned when I reviewed their Christmas special last month, this is the afterlife of the brewkit at the Franciscan Well pub, distinct from the Molson Coors-owned main Franciscan Well brewery.

I started with Original 7 Lager, a straightforward affair of no specified substyle, 4.2% ABV and an exceedingly pale and limpid yellow. Though while it looks the part as a no-frills Bud substitute, the flavour heads off in its own direction. I get pear drops first and foremost, apparent in the aroma and even stronger in the taste. There's a buttery wallop of diacetyl behind it, making the whole thing a little too sweet for comfort. I suspect it's meant to be dry, and while it's not a bad beer, it's very far from a precision-engineered lager. Yes, the kit is small and likely not designed for beers like this, but on the other hand they've had twenty-six years to either get lager correct or abandon the attempt. If they need a lager, they might be better asking someone else to brew them one.

Staying core-range, Revolution IPA is next. This is where an intention to make accessible beers for a mass pub audience becomes really apparent. It's 5.4% ABV but comes across as much lighter, helped a little by the cold serving temperature. Amber-coloured, it's lightly fruity with a persistent bitterness, beginning on grapefruit zest, leading into a headier pine and resin in the finish. There are echoes of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale here, but scaled significantly back, to the point where it becomes an Irish pub session beer. Perhaps the Revolution referred to here is where independently produced Irish beer turns full circle and goes back to accessible see-through pints as the primary product once again.

I assume Revolution was the basis for Shelby Dascher, described as a "spiced IPA" created for Cork's Shelbourne Bar. Ginger is, I think, the extent of the spicing, and that lowers it a point to 5.3% ABV. The lightness of the base beer really stands to it, and the result is refreshing and spritzy, ginger meeting lemon to create a kind of throat-lozenge soothing quality. There's a clean crispness, like ginger cookies, so while they may have launched this as a winter offering, it will be just as appropriate in high summer. I reckon that Revolution could provide the required base for any number of additions and enhancements. I'd throw some fruit in to see what happens next.

The nod to contemporary brewing is Original 7 Hazy Pale. It's less of a nod when we see it's only 4.1% ABV. This isn't how they do it at Trillium. It is, in fairness, almost opaque, and an orangey yellow colour. The flavour opens with sweet orange juice, which is fair enough, but proceeds indecently quickly to a harsh dreggy grittiness. With this comes side notes of garlic and scallion, so it has a lot of the downsides of the haze craze but without the fresh tropical side. As such it's a bit by-the-numbers. It tastes like Hazy Pale Ale from a brewery that knew they had to have one but lacks any enthusiasm for it. You're better off not bothering. This needs more everything to pass muster for the style, though that's not likely to work at a Smithwick's-adjacent gravity.

Last of the set is Rockafeller Weisse. I think Franciscan Well was the first commercial brewery to bring weissbier to Ireland, with the variable, but generally decent, Friar Weisse. Once again we are below the strength that this sort of thing would have in its native land, a very unBavarian 4.7% ABV. Again, cold and clean pintability is the gain, but it's at the expense of body and flavour character. What you get is a very straightforward banana kick, with refreshing hints of lemon and orange zest on the side. It's all very jolly and summery, tasting like a weissbier while giving the overall feel of a sunny witbier.

I think I see what they're doing here. It's odd to find what's technically a newly-founded Irish brewery not copying the American/global trend for big-flavoured, big-bodied, quite strong craft beer. But these very obviously have their roots in the 1990s, and earlier, when Irish beer was meant to be served in pubs and by the imperial British pint. Fair play to Original 7 for keeping the torch lit, but it's a bit of a niche and, from this drinker's perspective, I'm not sure it's one worth preserving.

Francis of A Sissy

They were a little sheepish, the Cork contingent of ICB when the local brewery launched a pink beer. While new brews are always welcome, it's best not to get too excited in case someone thinks you're a bit... you know. Me I'm always ready to embrace my fruity side, so it was on with my most flamboyant outfit and off down to The Franciscan Well to see what all the excitement manly banter was about.

There's no doubting the pinkness of Raspberry Weisse, though my camera seems to have spared the head its blushes: in real life it's very very pink. However, I think it's unlikely that this has ever had a real raspberry near it. Raspberries ferment, and generally leave quite a dry beer, whereas this gives off a powerfully sweet artificial aroma that immediately activated one of my nostalgia sensors: if you weren't raised in Northern Ireland or Scotland around the same time I was this isn't going to mean much to you, but it smells exactly like Creamola Foam, and that carries through on tasting in the powdery effervescent mouthfeel.

My assumption was that they'd just added the raspberry flavour into the house weissbier Friar Weisse, but I'm not 100% sure of that. Friar Weisse (which changes quite a bit from batch to batch) is going through one of its more Bavarian phases at the moment, whereas the base beer of Raspberry Weisse is rather dry with quite a nice wheaty cereal finish. And so tacked-on is the fruit flavouring it's actually possible to ignore it and enjoy the real beer underneath, with only the screamingly pink colour to assault your senses (as well as your dress sense, hairstyle and proficiency on the dancefloor).

I'd go as far as to say it's worth drinking. Though with craft beer fans of a girly persuasion a bit thin on the ground on North Mall, it remains to be seen who actually will.

Buy the drinks on my own lovely Lee

I'm back from a couple of days in Cork, where I paid a long-overdue visit to the Franciscan Well microbrewery along the river on North Mall. It's an odd, pokey little place that lacks some of the pizzazz of some other brewpubs around the place, but they're clearly proud of what they do. Their Shandon Stout is a first class dry porter with complex coffee-and-chocolate flavours: rich, but very easy to drink (presumably because it is competing with Murphy's -- a beer with similar qualities). Their Rebel Red ale was a little disappointing: watery and a touch bland, taking its lead from Smithwick's, I guess. The Rebel Lager is an enigmatic one. It hits you up front with an intense and not-very-pleasant sour note, but then calms down for a smooth finish. It's one for quaffing rather than sipping, I think. Much more palatable is the Blarney Blonde, which contains fewer surprises. It lacks a strong flavour, but still has hints of that crisp grainy-corny taste of a good microbrewed lager, despite being an ale. Lastly, they do a token weissbier: Friar Weisse. It's properly orange and cloudy, but a little lacking in the fruit flavour I would expect. I suspect overall that they are trying not to offend or surprise a conservative clientelle with their house beers and I would say the place really comes into its own when the Easter and Christmas beers are on tap.

Cork is also home to a great beer off-licence called the Abbot's Ale House on Devonshire Street. I took a few interesting things away from there, on which I will report in due course, but I began by continuing my investigation into the beers of Poland, with two from the Staropolskie brewery. The plain green label is pretty good: full and round with a tight creamy head, though without the fruitiness of Okocim, but once again it is the stronger mocne lager that excels. Staropolskie Mocne can stand proudly with the best of Bavaria's stronger brews. It reminded me of Spaten's Oktoberfest beer in particular: rich, smooth and delicious. Rarely has alcohol been used so well to enhance the flavour of a strong lager.