The quarter master

This was a surprise. I've been watching on the socials how busy Limerick's Treaty City brewery has been with its limited-edition and special-occasion beers. It seems to have graduated beyond just making a core range for a conservative local market, which is pleasing to see. "Local" has always been of paramount importance, and the latest set pays tribute to four of Limerick city's quarters -- it has a fifth: Market Quarter was a Treaty City beer I enjoyed in Limerick a few years ago. That's not the surprise; the surprise was a box of the new set being sent over to me by the brewery -- much appreciated!

Culture Quarter is first up, a blonde ale and lightest of the bunch at 4.1% ABV. It was looking a bit flat at first but eventually formed a very fine white head over a pale golden body. From the aroma it's obvious that they're trying to hit lager style points: it's clean and lightly biscuity, but also a little lacking in character. Ale yeast to the rescue, and the flavour brings more fruit: cantaloupe, honeydew, kiwi: all the water-filled ones you eat cold from the fridge for refreshment. Not that the beer is watery -- there's enough substance, while staying clean. Microbrewed blonde ale is always a bit of a gamble. There's a lot of space for off-flavours to creep in, while also running the risk of creating something bland and flavourless. This deftly dodges both obstacles. It's a hearty, wholesome and characterful bottle-conditioned ale, while also crisp, clean and easy drinking. Earlier this week I was impressed by Heaney's efforts in this space. This doesn't have the complexity of their effort but still does a good job of being accessible yet interesting.

I liked having an excuse to break out my Hoegaarden bucket: witbier by the half-litre is too rare. Georgian Quarter is the name, a bit of a pounder at 5.3% ABV. It's the right shade of hazy, sunny yellow, though the head formation was a little lacklustre. A farmyard-funky aroma harks back to witbier's origins as a wild-fermented style while an added hint of lemon reminds us how the big corporations have tamed it since. Those two sides fight it out in the flavour. There's a pristine citrus zest with a candied-peel sweetness, and then a rougher, funkier element; spicy gunpowder but also a harsh burnt-rubber effect. I imagine it's quite a divisive beer. A lot is going on and not all of it is good. Happily it all fades quickly with a minimal aftertaste, so it's still enjoyable even if some of the details are not to your taste. As well as that funk, I would ding it for the carbonation too, which is lacking. A beer like this needs proper spritz; flatness is fatal. On balance, I'm glad to see an Irish brewery offering a witbier, but at the same time this style has been perfected by The Establishment so it needs more of polish to compete on those terms.

The pale ale is called River Quarter and is 4.6% ABV. It's what I regard as the standard hazy orange shade of bottle-conditioned Irish small-batch pale ales. The aroma is dank, shading to funky: a little bit growhouse, a little bit pub cellar in need of a good scrub. That set me up to expect a powerful flavour but it's actually rather gentle with a clean pale-grain sweetness backed by mild root vegetables and a mug of sweet tea. This is easy-going and unchallenging to the point of being a smidge boring. I guess it's pub fare and ill-suited to a time without pubs. Unless you were expecting fireworks it's hard to complain about, being rock-solid and completely without brewing faults. Needs more hops, perhaps, but nobody will take offence from the way it is.

Stout is not neglected amongst all this. Medieval Quarter claims to be "US style", raising immediate hopes it'll be like Sierra Nevada's hopped-up classic. It certainly has similar substance, a full 5.6% ABV and pouring out thickly with a classic deep-tan head. Proper old-man stuff, in the best possible way. The case for it being American-ish is overstated. Yes there's a hop profile, but it's quite traditionally bitter and vegetal, not bursting with citrus. The hop side complements well a different sort of bitterness from dark-chocolate and espresso roast. Though nicely weighty on the palate, it's very much a dry beer, hitting that sweet spot of being both filling and refreshing. An echo of the hopping survives into the aftertaste and calls perennial favourite Porterhouse XXXX to mind. It doesn't have quite the same wallop but is constructed along similar lines. This is a magnificent beer and I wish more Irish breweries tackled this sort of thing.

I'm pleased with this bunch, while very aware I got them for free. I can assure you if there were actual stinkers in the set I would say so. The stout is a stand-out and pushed my 20th century buttons in a big way. The brewery gives us a rare glimpse behind the scenes by saying this could have been part of their core range. It should have been.

Pale writer

Further explorations of the Heaney Farmhouse Brewery today, a company with two faces, it seems.

Big Little IPA self-describes as a session IPA and is 4.2% ABV. Lots of busy foam on pouring falls away almost immediately, leaving it looking like a glass of pure orange juice. Such is the modern way. The aroma is quite sharp: a citrus acidity leaning towards harsher mineral aspirin. There's a bit of dreggy fuzz in the background of the flavour but it's much better up front: jaffa pith, a brush of zest and a surprise nutmeg spicing. The use of oats has given it the full body of a much stronger beer, and I think of this not so much as one to drink repeatedly through a session, but for having one when you want a big flavour hit without lots of alcohol. On the one hand it's not as clean as I'd like and is a tad harsh, but on the other these are acceptable compromises for something this boldly flavoured.

To follow, a 7% ABV IPA that's also a knowing comment on the state of beer today: Style Over Everything. There are the same head retention problems but the body looks good, a bright and warming sunset orange. It smells a little sickly, of undiluted cordial and children's medicine. Enigma is the hop they've used to achieve the effect. The flavour is along similar lines: a big concentrated orange taste, accentuated by considerable alcohol heat and a very thick mouthfeel. Enigma is the hop they've done it with. Like the previous beer, this too could pass for much stronger, only this time that's not in its favour. Another tough drinker here, and there's just not enough fun happening to make that OK.

In my last Heaney rundown I said that dark beers seemed to be what they do best. I hope we get more along those lines from them soon.

As well as all these fancy-dan cans, the brewery also has a core range of bottles in safe traditional styles. The stout I was impressed by, the red I have not yet seen, but two others came my way lately. I imagined myself in a Bellaghy pub, a long way from any high-fashion beer, in order to give them a fair airing.

Heaney Irish Blonde is what they offer in lieu of a lager. It's 4.3% ABV and the hazy yellow of a witbier. A yeast-driven gunpowder spice is the aroma, plus a peachy ester effect: all par for the course when it comes to rural bottle-conditioned blonde ale. Time for a deep pull... It passes the quaff test: zero off-flavours; no twangs or oddness. That mineral spice dominates the foretaste, followed by a mouth-searing pale-malt dryness. In the background that's softened by a little cantaloupe and honeydew, fading out on an English-style wax-and-metal bitterness. This is absolutely built for the purpose I expected: to sit on the shelves of a rural pub, unloved until someone wants something other than Harp or Tennent's. And it fills the role wonderfully: massively complex if you're given to analysis; but also clean and simple drinking for when you're just out to be social. Perfect pitch.

Pale ale is a tough one in this milieu. It's not a traditional style -- Irish microbreweries didn't make any until 2006 -- so what should a traditionally-aimed one taste like? Heaney Irish Pale Ale at least looks like the archetype, Galway Hooker: a relaxed medium amber. The ABV is substantially higher, however, being the full 5%. Grapefruit and candy says the aroma, followed by a flavour mixing old-school American citrus with older-school British tannins. It's a winning combination: a base of bitter overlaid with fresh new-world zing. It's familiar but different, bringing the excitement of the first American-style beer brewed here with a totally unique flavour combination, including echoes of that nice cask bitter you had in that lovely pub in Yorkshire that time.

Conclusion? I think I'm the discerning older gentleman that the bottled Heaney's beers are pitched at. And I'm absolutely down with that. They're just better beers. This post wasn't meant to be a new local front in the beer culture wars but here we are. Don't let the multicoloured cans deceive you.