Shropshire, lads

Christmas took me to rural Shropshire once again. The local pub is under new ownership but retains its three beer engines, one of them tied to the thoroughly decent Hobsons Twisted Spire.

The first guest beer was a new stout from a different nearby brewery, Hop & Stagger. Black Forest Stout they called it, and yes it contains cherries. In fact, I suspect that this is nothing more complicated than a basic chocolate-forward session stout into which a bucket of cherry concentrate has been dumped: it has that unsubtle syrupy taste. A flinty dark-roast dryness saves it from turning sticky, and while the two elements do blend better as it warms up, this is still a one-pint beer and no more.

Moving on, then, to Joules Old No. 6, badged as a "winter warmer" though only 4.8% ABV. It belies this with a big and rich flavour, beginning on a thick layer of chewy caramel which is then overlaid with red liquorice and throat-sweet herbs. That makes for something very sweet and very bitter at the same time, with a Victorian medicine vibe which I'm sure is exactly what they were going for. I don't think I've tasted anything much like this, yet it does fit what one might expect an old-fashioned English winter ale to be. Again, a session would be tough, but that's what the Twisted Spire tap is for.

The only other pub I visited was a very quick half at the Wetherspoon in Shrewsbury. They had Black Ice by Titanic Brewery on, and it's against my religion to pass up a black IPA when I see one. This one arrived with an off-white head, the body black but showing red around the edges. The flavour offers a fascinating mix of flowers and fruit: spicy jasmine first, followed by soft and sweet cherry and raspberry. It's still bitter enough to be properly invigorating and there's a stout-like tarry rasp which helps keep it from tasting jammy. All this is done at just 4.1% ABV too. Great work, and I hope they keep brewing it, fashion be damned.

To the bottles, then, and Hobsons has refreshed its branding, the trademark bowler hat now looking 45% more jaunty. I don't know if Shropstar pale ale is new but it was my first time trying it. This is a perfectly clear pale gold and 4% ABV. A tall head forms so I was expecting lots of fizz on the palate but it's actually quite smooth. A pinch of lemon rind suggested American hops to me, though a glance at the label tells me Hüll Melon and Mandarina Bavaria are actually responsible. An initial bitter kick leads on to bittersweet citrus, and then a fast fade-out. They've badged this as a Christmas beer, and it was refreshing after too much cheese and Other People's Unreasonably Hot Central Heating, but I think it would work better in the summer -- there's enough fruity fun in it for that.

The sister brought me a selection from Lincolnshire brewery Hopshackle. I began with the lightest of them: a golden ale called Jaramillo. There'll be Amarillo hops in this, thought I, but no: it's Citra and Mosaic. It has a rough and raw homebrew quality, manifesting as a clean gunpowder spice. The hop fruit is bright behind it, all juicy mango and tangy pomegranate. While this lacks polish, it is tasty in an amateurish sort of way. They got away with the roughness here, but I was apprehensive facing into the rest of the selection.

Hopnosis got busy with the fizzy from the get go. This is a golden ale, 5.2% ABV, and hopped with Citra and Mosaic again. Oh and hey: here's the Amarillo. There's a very pleasant sweet honey taste, plus a touch of apricot, and accompanying stickiness. I can see the beer it was meant to be; the beer it probably is on cask, but bottled, once again, there's that flinty spice of residual yeast: nice but interfering with the core flavour. I can't help thinking that even if this bottle is OK, the brewery doesn't have proper control over what's getting out there. Is that unfair?

Moving on, I poured the Humopulus carefully, to give myself a clear glassful. It's still a little hazy through the pale yellow colour, without much of an effort at head. The label boasts yet more Citra though the flavour is quite muted. There a vague lime-zest bitterness, but the sharp and flinty yeast is more prominent. It's been busy too, I'd say: the texture is thin, even for 4.3% ABV, suggesting high attenuation. There's a background sourness but I don't know whether to pin that on the fermentation or the hops. With every sip I found myself thinking how much better Citra-forward British beers like Jarl and Oakham Citra are. This isn't in the same league.

Last up from Hopshackle is Fire Belly Export, described on the label as a "Double Imperial IPA" which is a yer-da style if ever I saw one. It is 7% ABV. There's lots of sweet caramel, and a big malt warmth. This is accompanied, rather than balanced, by tropical C-hops, plus a herbal, peppery effect. Again, though, heavy-handed attenuation has thinned it, dried it and given it too much fizz. It's better than the others despite this: the high gravity fights back against the officious yeast and there's enough mellowness left behind, and sufficient body to provide a base for the hops. There's a lack of finesse, sure, but this is on the good side of the homebrew-tasting spectrum.

The next set was three from Sherbourne Ales in Bournemouth, courtesy of my niece who lives locally. First out is the bottled bitter Headlander. I didn't think there was much chance of this pouring clear, what with all the dregs clinging to the inside of the bottle, and so it proved: a hazy copper red glassful. The aroma is wholesome brown bread with a very English veg-and-metal hop tang. The two sides should blend together in the flavour but they drift further apart: a sugary-tea sweetness and quite a harsh, raw bitterness with no hop flavour nuance. It's hard work, but I was used to the clashing flavours by the half-way point and finding it quite refreshing, as a bitter ought to be. Approach with caution rather than avoid, I would say.

Sunbather red ale is not very different, in appearance and in ABV, at 4.2%. The aroma is quite understated, just a vague jam and marzipan. Flavourwise it's definitely smoother than the previous: a well-integrated cocktail of warm caramel and dark berries, with a touch of coffee-roast complexity. This is balanced by that classic English hop bitterness but this time toned down, and with some earthy veg notes in with the acidity. It fits the brown bitter category more than that of red ale, I think, though one could class it as a good example of either. Solidly traditional, and enjoyably so. The sort of English beer I never hear about on the Internet.

The strongest one to finish on: the 4.5% ABV Grockles blonde ale. This came out a bright and burnished gold, with hardly any haze at all. A honey aroma leads on to a rye and caraway savoury bitterness. It tips a little into the gastric, vomity side of the spectrum, but not excessively so, and there's enough residual honey to pull the flavour back. Again, this suits the broad bitter genre better than the style it's badged as; this time the pale, dry, sharp northern bitter, typified by these days Landlord and Marble's Manchester Bitter. The brewery has decided it's a summer beer, and presumably intends it as a lager substitute. It has far too much character for that, however. You'd be disappointed if you were expecting Stella. I wasn't disappointed, though.

A random selection from the slim pickings in a local Sainsburys: Gladeye, from Drygate. It gives us fair warning of what to expect by calling itself a "retro IPA". Copper colour: check; big crystal malt toffee: check; intense grapefruit bitterness: check and check. It really does remind me of old-school IPAs like Porterhouse Hop Head and the original Sierra Nevada IPA. A lighter hand on the crystal would have been appreciated: it's thicker and sweeter than it needs to be. I like the old-fashioned, mouth-watering, citrus poke, though. It delivers on its promise, although it's weird thinking of this sort of thing as a novelty.

The Christmas Day nightcap was Adnams Both Barrels, a barrel-aged version of their Broadside IPA, with added cherries. After six whole years in bourbon casks, it doesn't look or taste anything like Broadside, being a dark brown colour and showing lots and lots of oak flavour. Wild yeast has been busy too, giving an overall impression of a Flanders red: that tart cherry and fancy Italian vinegar effect. Though 9% ABV there's no heat and quite a thin body. Swirling it on the palate, bourbon vanilla makes an appearance, and there's burnt fruitcake and brown breadcrust in the mix as well. They don't badge it explicitly as sour, but I think they should. Fascinating stuff, both as a highly involved IPA experiment, and as a beer in its own right.

Familial duties duly conducted, it was off to the Netherlands for New Year...

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.

Nordie boys

These two are the last of the haul from my most recent trip to Belfast, acquired in the excellent but poky Vineyard off licence on the Ormeau Road.

My first impressions of Hillstown's beers are here, and The Spitting Llama was missing from the set I bought last year. It picked up an award at the 2015 Killarney Beer Festival so I was particularly keen to give it a go. The style is billed as Belgian golden ale, though a little weaker than your Duvel or the like, at just 7% ABV. It's also, like Wednesday's beer, not golden at all, arriving a murky red-brown and looking tired and undercarbonated. No marks for presentation, then. The aroma is a powerful solvent buzz -- whiteboard markers and paint-thinner -- which doesn't bode well, though suggests at least that it's as strong as the label claims.

Its flavour is more nuanced though still doesn't deliver anything like a Belgian golden ale. The headache-inducing solvent is still there but it softens into pear and lychee fruit while a balancing dry cereal husk adds a rustic quality. It's still pretty tough drinking, however: half a litre was a lot to get through and there was no escaping its homebrewish qualities. I don't think it's infected as such, but this isn't a well-made beer and despite some farmhouse charm I can't bring myself to say I enjoyed it. I'd love to see what the jury of experts at Killarney wrote about it.

After a bad run-in with an infected Farmageddon IPA early last year I have been cautiously finding my way back to the County Down co-operative brewery. My last couple of experiences with their beers were positive so I didn't think picking up the Citra IPA was that much of a gamble, even with that hefty £4 price tag.

First impression was of a very clean beer: a pure pale gold with a flavour that's all hop and no interference. That said, it is Citra, which gives it a bit of a lemon washing-up liquid effect, and the taste is a little one-dimensional this way, as single-hopped beers sometimes are. The body is full, though I was surprised to discover that the ABV is 6.7% as there's no heat or heaviness: any difficulty in drinking this guy comes from those lemony hops alone. But it's not difficult to drink, it's just a little dull, wanting for the spicy piquancy I know Citra can deliver. Is it fair to criticise an all-Citra beer for tasting like Citra and nothing else? The beer that kept popping into my head was Fyne Ales Jarl, another super-pale Citra vehicle that somehow manages to deliver a lot more complexity at a smaller ABV.

All told, not a great showing from the Ulstermen there. Hillstown still needs to work on the technical side of its process and I think Farmageddon could do with making a few tweaks as well.

Funny place to bring a dog

Drinking in the RDS on St Patrick's Day is a proud Dublin tradition. Or at least it was until the early 1960s when the spoilsports in government made it legal for pubs to open, removing the necessity to feign interest in the Irish Kennel Club's annual dog show in order to take advantage of its refreshing licensing loophole.

This year the custom returned, in a manner of speaking. After four years in the docklands, the upstart little brother of Ireland's biggest beer festival has moved in next door to its sibling. To a bigger house, too. The 2015 Irish Beer & Whiskey Festival was held in Hall 1 at the RDS, a grand space with plenty of seats and room for the amateur drinkers to stagger safely.

It wasn't quite the extravaganza of limited-run beers that the September festival tends to be, but there was plenty to keep me occupied. Eight Degrees, for instance, was showing off Enigma, a 6% ABV pale ale made with the eponymous hops, a real Australian rarity. It reminded me most of Nelson Sauvin, in its milder, gooseberry manifestation. There's a melon rind quality too, and some red apple: all the dry, tart fruit, in short. It's decent drinking but could stand to be more complex.

The other new one from the Mitchelstown machine was Polar Vortex, a 5.8% ABV pale ale brewed with Cascade, Simcoe and Citra. I got a lot of resinousness from this and it's even a little acidic. Only the big malt body saves it from harshness. Rather than the hop explosions we've become used to from Eight Degrees, this is altogether more rounded and nuanced, something I certainly appreciated about it.

White Hag was present at the festival in a big way, bringing a nice comfy couch for the crew to lounge on behind the bar. It was a long five days of festival, after all. New beers included The White Sow, a 5.2% ABV milk chocolate oatmeal stout. It sounds more interesting that it turned out to be. The milk chocolate is right there, smooth and sweet at the centre of the flavour, but that's about the extent of what happens. My attention wandered, even when sipping a sample. They also had a version infused with fresh coffee at the bar and that simply replaced one single-dimension flavour with another.

I was much more intrigued by Searbh Rua, described as an "imperial sour red". Wut? Well, it's 7.9% ABV, and very definitely red. But the first sip reveals it to be massively sweet. It certainly makes up for the stout's shortcomings in its complexity: I got raspberries, cherries and even chocolate in the first few seconds. The sourness arrives late, providing just a little kick of tartness right on the end. The alcohol heat is very present throughout and I'd be placing this on the shelf with the barley wines. It's not a clean and invigorating sour beer; more a warming fireside sipper.

The "OMG When Do You People Sleep?" award for overactive brewing activity went to Trouble who had three brand new beers, plus the regular range and minus one new one they didn't reckon was ready yet. My beer of choice, and beer of the festival, was Centennial SMASH, 4.8% ABV and served on keg and cask, though I only drank the latter. Knock a percentage point off this and we'd have Ireland's Jarl. It's has that dry and ever so slightly soapy floral character of the Scot, but a beautiful smoothness and plenty of bright, zippy citric notes. Insanely drinkable material.

I was less impressed by Wandering Star, a blonde ale with nothing much going on other than some dry grain husk and an unpleasant tang of marker pens. Fallen Idol cheered me right up after that: a murky brown ale smelling edgily of gunpowder and weed and with a powerfully juicy flavour, mostly consisting of abundant, decadent peaches. At 6.3% ABV it demands a bit of respect but is great fun at the same time.

My other festival highlight alongside Fallen Idol was O Brother's Bonita, another dark hop-forward beer. Instead of fruit flavours, however, this is big on piquancy: liquorice and perfumery spices are to the fore, backed by dark chocolate and a lip-smacking dry roast.

Other breweries I just tried one new beer from were Independent, which had a new IPA, a 7% ABV job utilising Citra, Cascade and Summer hops, smelling spicy and tasting very grassy but without being too bitter, balanced by a tasty sweet orange candy character; and Kinnegar, whose Cup & Saucer coffee stout really lays on the thick brown-sugar-laced coffee but there's plenty of roast so while it's certainly heavy, as befits 6.2% ABV, it's not sickly or difficult drinking.

White Gypsy had an Australian Pale Ale, 4.8% ABV, amber coloured, toffee aroma'd and tasting of perfume and caramel with a rather sticky texture. Much better was White Gypsy Helles, a tiny bit of diacetyl but also lots of crisp green celery and a little white pepper too, alongside a golden syrup sweetness. Its best feature is the texture: authentic Bavarian levels of soft smoothness making it very quaffable indeed.

Finally to Station Works. I mentioned in relation to their brown ale the other week that they've been doing local recreations of Cumberland Breweries beers. Two more to report on from this festival: Station Works Irish Stout is nicely dry with a sharp black malt edge but smooth too, making for a plain but easy-drinking pint. Only a slight rubbery waft in the aroma spoils it, and only a little. I liked Station Works Irish Blonde too: no aroma, but cool and crisp like a good lager, and every bit as refreshing. If Station Works has truly set itself a mission to breathe new life into cask beer in Ireland then this is sort of beer that could do it. This and Trouble Centennial SMASH, obviously.

My hop nemesis

Though they've been a regular feature on this blog for most of its (exactly) eight years, I had sort of lost track of what BrewDog were doing, beerwise, these days. Outside of the mostly on-trade-related news feed there seemed to be an endless line of hyper-expensive limited editions, none of which really interested me. Now things seemed to have calmed down, with a couple of beers I've been hearing great things about. Time to see for myself.

First up was Dead Pony Club. This is a 3.8% ABV pale ale and so immediately invites comparison with the excellent Jarl by Fyne Ales. Both make extensive use of Citra for a mouthwatering zestiness, but BrewDog couldn't help taking a big scoop from the Simcoe sack, and while this pungent hop just about works in fuller beers like 5am Saint and Punk IPA, it completely takes over here. My experience was of a sharp cheesey foretaste, followed by burning, followed by watery fizz, though I have to give props for the sweet lasting peachiness in the aftertaste.

I'm well aware that I'm in a minority when it comes to my problem with Simcoe. Without its influence I imagine I'd have enjoyed Dead Pony Club more. As it stands, however, it's another reason why I'm rarely minded to run out and try new BrewDogs these days. So it was with trepidation that I popped the next one.

Libertine is nearly double the strength and a very dark but clear red. "Let the sharp bitter finish rip you straight to the tits. Swallow hard - this slut bites" according to the ten-year-old who wrote the label copy, but while the aroma is mostly citrus with a bit of Simcoe funk (it's 100% Simcoe), the flavour puts dark chocolate at the centre, made sticky with a lacing of treacle. And then the Simcoe comes out, held in check by the dark malt which gives us a bit of biscuit to go with the cheese.

Libertine reminds me a lot of 5am Saint, with its mix of heavy malt and funky hop. A pint would probably be too much, but 33cls was enjoyable.

I'd hoped I'd be able to get a bottle of Jack Hammer to go with these but it seems to be in very short supply. I just had a taste of this at the Voyager launch (thanks Alex, and welcome to the blogosphere!) and was very impressed. It's 7.2% ABV and BrewDog claim it's the bitterest beer they've ever brewed. So it must have been the Voyager I was drinking beforehand which left it tasting soft and fruity, packed with mango and passionfruit, reminding me of the exquisitely balanced pale ales put out by Stone. And best of all: no Simcoe, just Centennial and Columbus. Good doggie.

Wild West Argyll

Hurricane Jack and Maverick: they sound like beers better suited to a tumbleweed-strewn frontier town, drunk by hard-bitten ranchers. As-is they're from western Scotland, and the Fyne Ales brewery.

Starting with the blonde Hurricane Jack, much like its stablemate Jarl, I got a bang of hops the second the cap came off. Pouring revealed a deceptively watery looking beer, very slightly hazy and appearing for all the world like any number of crappy lagers. It doesn't smell like any of them, however, being aleishly sweet and bubblegummy, giving overtones of orangeade and a little gunpowder spice as well. It's heavier than Jarl, having a very full body for a mere 4.4% ABV with only a gentle hum of carbonation. And despite the fun and fruity aroma, the taste is very bitter to begin with, almost sour, in fact. The flavour comes behind it and is all orange pith and wax, the sharpness just held in check by that big soft texture. I found it a bit of a workout to drink. Even by the end of the glass my palate hadn't quite adjusted to all that bitterness. It's just a little too jaw-piercing for me, overall.

I waited a few minutes before opening Maverick, dark red-brown and malt-driven with a firm off-white head. Again (I think, unless it's residual from the earlier beer) the bitterness is at the front of this, though much milder. There's little by way of hop flavour and instead just a flash of bourbon biscuit and caramel before the dry bitterness reasserts itself. I can't say it does much for me: I'd like more fruit, more biscuit, and as I write that I realise what I want it to be is Clotworthy Dobbin. Dammit, Whitewater, you've ruined me for dark red sweet beers with any kind of mild hop complexity. Maverick is still pretty drinkable, however, so I didn't have to stew over it for very long.

That, I think, is the end of the Fyne Ales range currently available to me right now. Nobody will be surprised to hear that Jarl's the star.

Session sequencing

It was tough picking an order in which to drink these Fyne Ales: all pretty low ABV session ales; two of the three on the pale side; all claiming generous hopping. Um. Errr. Best to just muck in and see how it goes.

So first up was Piper's Gold. The name's a bit of a turn-off. I'm sure there's a Scottish equivalent of paddywhackery and "Piper's Gold" stinks of it: haggis an' kilts an' aw the rest of thon oul shite. But beers don't get judged on their names on this blog. Much. Behind the label there's a slightly hazy blonde ale of 3.8% ABV. I didn't see anything on the label about bottle conditioning or an admonition to pour carefully, but I think there might be a bit of a yeast component in the flavour: a slight grittiness. Surrounding that it's fairly nondescript. The best bit is a little burst of juicy fruit bubblegum in the aroma. Tastewise you don't get much: that yeast, plus a slight rough oiliness which I can only describe as coconut even though doing so caused my wife to give me the you-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about look (to which, fortunately, I'm immune at this stage). All in, it's quite drinkable and you'd be happy to see it on tap in the pub. It probably doesn't lend itself to considered analysis, though. Nothing for it but to open the next beer, then.

I had been going to put the darker Highlander at the beginning of the sequence, until the label started talking about its citrus aroma in capital letters. A malt-driven hoppy amber ale? That could go any way, so I put it in the middle. It's not that dark, as it turns out: rose-gold to amber rather than anything redder. That citrus aroma? Yes, it's there to an extent, but not in a big way. I'd have thought the busy fizz would have pushed more hops out, but they just mustn't be in there in any great number to begin with. And neither's anything else really: it's another light, simple pale ale with a little too much water and fizz to be properly enjoyable.

Doubt was starting to creep in about whether these lacklustre offerings really were from the same brewery that made Avalanche and Vital Spark. Luckily I had the big gun saved up for last. Beer geek scuttlebutt has it that Jarl is the money-maker of the line-up. Off with the cap then...

I swear I was wielding the bottle opener at arm's length, but I got a massive hop waft along with the first hiss: almost skunky, in fact. Leaning in to the bottleneck I get a smell that takes me right back to wrong turns in Amsterdam on a cold Friday night: a different sort of skunk but all botanically related. Appearance-wise it's very very pale, blending in with my walls until the camera flash drew out the contrast. Expecting an incendiary hop-bomb from the aroma (despite only 3.8% ABV) I was very pleasantly surprised on the first pull: lots of really quite sweet fruit in the juicy mandarin and nectarine bracket. It fades quite quickly and the hops (all Citra, I'm told) add a final bitter flourish, before the palate is clear and ready for another gulp. While trying deperately not to sound like an insufferable fanboy, I must say this is probably the best bottled session beer I've ever come across. It's a recipe that deserves to be ripped off mercilessly for the greater good of beer-drinking kind. But while that's happening, a standing ovation for Fyne Ales for Jarl. Believe the hype.

So not the end-to-end quality bevvy experience I was anticipating, and I'm very happy with the order I picked: Jarl is unfollowable by anything other than more Jarl, or someting from a totally different end of the beer spectrum -- imperial stout or one of them mad fellas. I get the impression that Fyne are primarily a brewer for the on-trade, and that the bottles shouldn't be expected to live up to the pub experience. But if Jarl's better on cask than bottle I may actually implode with joy.

The neighbours will talk

Sometimes it feels like being on the edge of a really interesting conversation without being able to join in. I'm an avid follower of the UK's beercentric Twitterbuzz and so have a fairly good idea of what the cool kids think is worth drinking at any given time. It's useful to know what to look out for when I visit Britain, and occasionally we get beers over here from the breweries that are being mentioned in dispatches. A tip of the hat goes to DrinkStore here for doing an excellent job in sourcing the good stuff, and I'm chuffed that some of the much-lauded Thornbridge beer has finally made an appearance.

One beer I've heard mentioned a lot in recent weeks has been Jarl from Argyll's Fyne Ales. But there's none of that to be had at this distance from the conversation so instead I'm giving their Avalanche a spin.

Don't be fooled by the rather wan colouring, nor the meagre 4.5% ABV: the aromas make it clear that your tastebuds are in for a workout long before the liquid hits the glass. "Bitter" doesn't do it justice. It's all kinds of bitter. Mostly it's intensely citric, like biting grapefruit skin, and there's also a rather gastric acid burn going on as well, and a more pleasant lemony tang. And yet, oddly, it's not unbalanced. It's all been set on a soft wheat base that doesn't interfere with the full-on hop experience, but smooths out the flavours making the whole thing easier to handle.

Proof, if proof be needed, that you don't need to reach into the upper echelons of alcoholic strength to get big hop impact.