Where's your hops at?

Back when new Irish pale ales cascaded onto the market on a near daily basis, I started a programme of reviewing them in big batches, for efficiency. Today, new ones still get collected this way, but it seems to be taking longer and longer to gather enough for a new substantial post. I began drinking today's baker's dozen in early March.

First up, it's a brand new brewery for me. Great Eastern Brewing has been running a taproom bar in Wicklow Town for a couple of years now, but this is the first time I've seen their beer canned. It's called simply Citra Pale Ale and is 4.3% ABV. They've gone haze, and quite a deep amber colour with it. The aroma is bright and fresh, all zested oranges with a hint of vanilla. Although it has the proper roundedness of hazy hoppy beer, it stays light, and the flavour is beautifully clean. It's a simple one: just mildly bitter citrus again, and a degree of oily herbal resin. It shows that this was created for a brewpub as it's very sessionable and quite undemanding, but at the same time is a well-made example of what it is, with no brewing flaws or poor recipe decisions, something that isn't the case for every fledgling Irish brewery. Great Eastern appears to know what it's doing and I wish it well.

I've had various versions of the TwoSides summer pale ale on here over the years. Two Yards: New Zealand Pale is, by my count, the ninth they've done, brewed as usual at Third Barrel. The ABV is a non-changing 4.3%, and it's pale and hazy: another core feature. We're on the frivolous side of the Kiwi hop harvest here (Motueka and Nectaron), with the brightly tropical aroma. The flavour follows up with an almost intense pineapple candy sweetness, alongside guava, cantaloupe and passionfruit for good measure. Low strength means a quick finish, but it's clean, with no grit or dregs. The best versions of Two Yards are sunny sessioners, made for al fresco pints at Brickyard. This edition is absolutely one of those.  

Wicklow Wolf has done another of its collaborations with companies that aren't natural collaborees, this time it's Outwest, a clothing firm, and the beer is a "west coast trail ale" which seems like it might fit. It, too, is called Outwest, and is 4.5% ABV. The clarity is top notch, pouring a bright and sunny golden. Floral perfume and sweet ripe summer fruit form the aroma, and there's lots of concentrated flower action in the flavour. That gives it quite an intense taste, and not in the citrus and pine manner I was expecting. Although the beer is light, I found it a little tough to drink, the perfume gumming up my palate while the pale malt doesn't provide the cleansing crispness I think this beer needs. It will have its fans but it's not for me. More fun to brew than to drink, perhaps.

Galway Bay, in collaboration with American brewery NoFo, has created a self-proclaimed tribute to New Zealand's hops, with a pale ale called Southern Weather. It's a pale and hazy affair, in the modern fashion, and a full 5% ABV. The aroma is fabulously tropical, with promises of passionfruit and pineapple fully delivered on by the combination of four Kiwi hop varieties. That's where the flavour opens, too, on a bright cheery chord of harmonious fruit salad. A slightly more serious herbal bitterness follows that up, where I think the NZ Cascade and Nelson Sauvin take over from Motueka and Pacific Sunrise. None of the effect lasts very long, however, and it all tails off into watery fizz a little too quickly for my liking, especially given the fluffy haze credentials. It's very enjoyable while it's there, however, so I'm not really complaining. As a hop showcase it performs the task it has been given very well. 

Is there any phrase more stirring to the human soul than "retail collaboration"? DOT's latest is with Martin's Off Licence in Fairview and is a New England-style IPA called Fully Charged: 5% ABV again. Pale and hazy? Check. It looks like thinly-spread lemon curd and smells like a beachside cocktail bar, a mélange of diced tropical fruit turning ripe in the sun. It's a psyche-out that the flavour opens with citrus: a sharp ping of lemon zest. The New England side takes a moment to catch up with that, eventually adding the mango and mandarin from the aroma, and the vanilla custard from the style spec. Bitterness reasserts itself in the finish, where the chewy pith and pine resin send us on a short trip to the West Coast. Because I liked this, I immediately went hunting for flaws, but all I could come up with is a very mild rasp of chalk or grit, and I really had to look for it. This is a hazy IPA for the sceptics: full of the bitter charms of "proper" IPA with a distinctly New England tropical seam and minimal brewing flaws. If you normally eschew this style but are willing to give it an occasional chance, and if you're in the Dublin 3 area, give this one a shot.

May Bank Holiday saw Ballykilcavan farm hosting the Greenfields music festival, and the brewery created The Greenfields Festival IPA to mark the occasion. It's an amber fellow; lightly hazed and 5.5% ABV. Not much happens in the aroma, beyond a light citrus spritz, and the flavour is similarly understated, at first anyway. The gentle lemon notes fade quickly, but before I could decide it's a damp squib, there's a growing and persistent bitterness -- earthy and tangy, suggesting Cascade hops to me -- and then a dry tannic quality. I'm reminded a little bit of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, albeit with a little less punch. The decision to make it on the strong side for the style was a wise one: there's full-bodied smoothness here, without which it might run the risk of turning harsh. As is, it's a very decent and classically formulated American-style pale ale, one which doesn't need to be kept icy cold, and can be quaffed quickly or sat over, as the occasion demands. Ideal for an outdoor event, then, but pretty good in general. 

Citra, Mosaic and Sabro are the hops which Third Barrel has put into Shout!, which sounds very much in the brewery's wheelhouse, and likewise that it's a 6.8% ABV hazy IPA. "Juicy" says the label, and it smells intensely sweet, though more of vanilla and orange ice pops than pure juice. The flavour doesn't exactly pop with juice either, but does something more grown up instead. There's a wide seam of pithy citric bitterness, overlaid with oily coconut flesh and a fine dusting of ground black pepper, adding a heat that's part alcohol and part yeasty spice. The sweet vanilla arrives late, dampening the bitterness and softening the beer's whole effect. It works. This is hazy with balance, showcasing bright and fresh hops, but in the cuddly, fluffy context of modern murk. It would be hard work to find something to dislike here.

The latest in Kinnegar's limited edition series is Brewers At Play 49: Fresh Hop West Coast IPA. "West Coast" I can believe, because it was brewed in Donegal, but I suspect "Fresh Hop" is a reference to the very unfresh processed hop product that Yakima Chief is currently shilling. Words used to mean something. 5.9% ABV is blousey for an Irish IPA, though low for authentic west-coast. I liked the medium amber colour, however, and can forgive the slight mistiness: it's unfiltered rather than hazy. The aroma brings a beautiful combination of lightly toasted malt and an earthy, spicy Cascade effect, doing a great job of channelling the mighty American IPAs of yore. The flavour expands on that, with an almost gunpowder level of sparky spice: piney resin meeting smouldering incense. There's a fresh(ish) oily citrus quality, and a sweeter side that's not quite crystal malt's caramel, but a gentle layer of golden syrup or runny toffee. While I wouldn't say it's balanced, its tilt towards the hops is beautifully done. I remain sceptical about the "fresh" claims, but as a representative of the west coast revival trend, it's a flag-carrier. Get some of this if you miss those old resinous beauties.

Rye River's Miami J hazy IPA is a regular spring fixture, but this year they've given it a new hairstyle, using Prysma as product. It's a "liquid hop flavor platform", which doesn't sound very steady, but claims it can make the beer taste of all the hops with none of the bitterness. That seems like a good idea for hazy IPA. The problem, however, is that the beer isn't all juicy and tropical. It's gritty and savoury, which creates a different kind of bitterness, while the sweetness is all vanilla esters and no fruit. I looked hard for some hop brightness but none was forthcoming, and I found only a weird raw and leafy green vegetable twang. This isn't the first time Rye River has used Miami J as a laboratory for BarthHaas's processed hop products: they did it back in 2022 as well, with similarly underwhelming results. This is altogether too rough and earthy to be enjoyable as an IPA, let alone one with purported hop superpowers. Back to basics for 2027, please.

I drank that back-to-back with Whiplash's Acid Raindrops, a collaboration with Seattle brewery Feast Fashion: similarly 6.5% ABV and just as pale and hazy. Comparison was inevitable, and this has a similar level of vanilla sweetness, but lacks the dreggy grit which marred the previous one. Still, hop fruit isn't a big part of it. A little peach, maybe, but thoroughly drenched in cream. It's extremely smooth and glides off the palate, leaving behind only a faint peppery spice. €5.75 for the can isn't extremely expensive by the standards of these thing in these parts these days, but I would have liked more depth of flavour and more proper hop impact. This doesn't deliver on what I understand to be the principal thing which hazy IPA is supposed to do -- big fresh hops -- and falls down in a quite stereotypical way for the style. It's not offensively bad or anything, but does get filed with the other low-energy beers Whiplash has been turning out recently. And no, I don't think some proprietary hop extract product will help that.

Brewers from Nautile in Nantes were in Dublin recently and one port of call was Hope, where they contributed to the brewing of an IPA. Groac'h is named after the Breton sea-witch who, legend says, curses anyone who makes smeary AI images of her. The can doesn't tell us what kind of IPA it is, so it was a surprise to find it amber coloured and mostly clear. West coast? Damn straight. The pithy aroma is an early giveaway; sharply citric, with added crisp leafy vegetables. No fruit salad here. An authentically American 7% ABV gives it weight and depth, but the flavour is not about that malt. A hard, raw, invigorating bitterness is the main feature, including all the typical elements in parallel: zesty lime and grapefruit, oily pine and fresh spinach leaves. And while it may not have the pleasing crystalline clarity of the best West Coast IPA, the modest haze makes no encroachment on the flavour. You can take it from me that this is old-school IPA of the best kind. The anti-haze mob should be buying it in quantity -- who knows when we'll see this sort of beer again?

The latest hazy IPA from Lineman is an IPA called White Noise. It's a full 7% ABV and moderately murked, topped with a head of rocky white foam. The aroma is broadly tropical, but very similar to a million other beers of this type. Citra, Ekuanot and Maui Nelson are the hops, the latter of which is a new one for me. Turns out it's not a hop, but another of those fancy extract products. Its manufacturer says it delivers pineapple, and pineapple is very much delivered in the flavour here. It's not extremely sweet, which is good, but it's not exactly multi-dimensional either. Apricot and white plum, maybe? Otherwise it's quite a generic tropical character. Which isn't to say it's a bad beer. This is beautifully refreshing and dangerously session-coded. Once I gave up trying to pick the flavour apart, I was quite content to neck it, and enjoyed doing so. This is a super-clean IPA brewed to Lineman's usual high standards, and aptly named.

In the absence of any double IPAs for this round, I'm finishing on a black one, again from Lineman. I Might Be Wrong is 6.5% ABV and headlines Citra, Mosaic and Columbus hops. I thought dankness might result from that, but we seem to be on the New England side of black IPA, alas. There's no hard bitterness, and instead a softer peach and plum flavour with a seasoning of red summer berries is all that the hops do. Similarly, there's little by way of roast, only a mild toasty bite at the very end. Where you get your money's worth is the texture: it's beautifully smooth and very easy to drink. That's not what I, personally, want from a black IPA -- give me the bite -- but I accept it's a valid approach. Black IPAs are rare and to be treasured, not nit-picked. But maybe ramp up the dank next time, yeah? For me.

I'll draw a line under proceedings there, and hope there'll be enough for another round-up before too long. On a statistical note, this is quite a good showing for the west-coast style beers. The revival seems to be bubbling along steadily, which is a positive sign.

Hopswitching

All of today's beers have featured on the blog before. Well, sort of. Breweries change their recipes all the time: hop availability, or lack of it, can be a bit of a random factor so change is inevitable. But there are plenty of other reasons too. It's generally a good sign when the brewery is up front with the drinker about it, and that's the case with each of these.

Lineman is first, with version four of their Electric Avenue pale ale, this one with Idaho 7, Citra and Chinook. As well as the hops, the ABV is the lowest yet at 5.1% ABV and it's considerably paler than previous iterations. The aroma is a luscious sort of bitterness, with honeydew melon gradually sharpening through kiwi fruit into full-on lime. No limes in the flavour, however. All is soft and sweet and summery, suggesting strawberry, mango, passionfruit and pineapple. If I hadn't read the varieties on the label I would have said with conviction that Mosaic was among them: there's even a tiny hint of savoury caraway, but otherwise a lot in common with White Hag's Little Fawn. It's beautifully refreshing and very downable. I love its brightness and freshness, and I'm somewhat surprised that it's done with dank badboys like Citra and Chinook. Regardless, very tasty stuff.

I was also surprised to learn it's coming up on four years since Rye River released its Whiplash homage Miami J. Back in 2018 it was a cutting-edge hazy IPA though the hops were mostly classics like Amarillo, Citra and Mosaic: not a thing wrong with them. But the edge needs sharpening and this new version is officially a collaboration with hop merchants BarthHaas, utilising Lupomax, Incognito and Spectrum from the drawer labelled "New Stuff". The rest is presumably the same: 6.5% ABV and a medium hazy orange. The aroma is funky and dank, and that's even more intense in the flavour. I get a mix of over-ripe apricots, extremely ripe and runny cheese, and fermenting silage. It's like it's gone through freshness and out the other side. As such, it's a bit extreme for my tastes. I like juicy tropicals but I don't think you can keep turning up the volume on that and expect it to improve. While I appreciate the artisanship that's gone in here, and what it's meant to be, I found it quite sickly and difficult, which wasn't the case with the much more balanced original.

I didn't really need an excuse to pick up another can of Western Herd Flora and Fauna, the champion Beoir Beer of the Year for 2022, but I got one. With a 10-hop double IPA I imagine there's plenty of room for switching things about, and with batch two they've replaced the Strata with Galaxy. It's still 9.45% ABV and a flawless golden colour, and still low on aroma, with only a kind of white lemonade sweetness to speak for all that malt and all those hops. The pine and the lime are still there, but I'm not getting the same level of oily dank richness that was a big part of the original. It's still beautiful: constructed with precision and not a thing out of place. But I can't help thinking there's something missing, and I don't know if that's because of the hop substitution or not. Still, if you have yet to have the pleasure of Flora and Fauna, this version is absolutely worth your while.

I haven't seen hop shortages in the beer news for quite a while. I guess that means that changes to recipes are more often at the brewer's discretion these days, which is good. I do wonder at what point a recipe deserves a new name, though. Those Electric Avenues don't have much in common with each other, for example.

Look around you

Indie Beer Week is upon us! Events kicked off on Friday and run through next weekend too. Have a look at the calendar to see what's happening in your part of the country. I did my bit locally on Saturday by visiting the new Porterhouse brewery, and all week I'll be blogging about Irish beer, starting with this rag-tag assortment of random samples.

The second in Rye River's Limited Edition Series was Miami J, a New England IPA. At the launch event in 57 The Headline, head brewer Bill talked us through the process, one involving Citra, Galaxy, Mosaic, Lemondrop and Amarillo, with all the bitterness derived from the whirlpool. It's up to you to actually find the bitterness, of course: the first flavour I got was a huge and juicy pineapple. There's a slightly slick and gummy vanilla note after this, which is also the dominant characteristic of the aroma, and is possibly the beer's weakest aspect but entirely in keeping with the style. The finish is grassy and just a little hot, reflecting honestly the 6.5% ABV. Overall it's spot-on for the style and largely lacking in flaws and imbalances. If you like your IPAs sweet and juicy get some of this, and soon.

Staying canned and juicy, the newest one from Whiplash at time of writing is called Clap Hands. It describes itself as an American wheat beer, a style that used to mean something quite specific: wheat-based beer fermented out with neutral ale yeast. That has all but been abandoned by the brewing industry now, Carlow Brewing's Curim being the only extant example I can think of. "American" now means highly hopped, and this employs a tropical supergroup of Mosaic, El Dorado and Lemondrop. It pours a milky opaque orange colour with only a short-lived head. The aroma is fabulously juicy from the get-go, however: an enticing swirl of mango and passionfruit with just a cheeky seasoning of garlic. The flavour continues largely along those lines, emphasising the savoury side a little more as the yeast bite kicks in, but but placing the hops front and centre, displaying fresh and zingy juice alongside a sharper herbal bitterness. This is all done at only 5.2% ABV, which means it's expensive at over €5 a can, but if you have the money, buy a couple and drink them side-by-side. More from Whiplash later in the week.

Along still similar lines is Five, the lowest alcohol offering in Rascals's 759 series. This popped up at the spritz festival organised by Wallace Winebars in the Millennium Walkway last month. It's a pleasant balanced chappie, covering what's expected from the flavour profile, with a garlicky hop burn contrasting with softer vanilla. I thought it had a lot in common with Trouble Brewing's excellent Ambush pale ale, though it's perhaps a touch punchier and less fruity. Very decent, though. Bring on the Nine!

Then I was completely wrong-footed by the second beer from Martin's Off Licence's 40th anniversary series. The Portrait Project Juicy IPA was brewed at Hope with collaborative input from DOT, and the name implied it would be hazy. But no! It poured from the can a clear dark gold. The aroma isn't exactly juicy: there's the invigorating sharpness of fresh American C-hops. The flavour is in the middle. It's dank and resinous: herbal, finishing bitter; but there's a New England thickness to it, and a layer of milkshake vanilla and spun sugar. I don't think "juicy" is the appropriate word. "Sweet" would probably do. Overall it's OK: nothing is really distinctive about it and it falls into line with a hundred other modern IPAs. In its favour it's only 5% ABV, so no nasty hotness. An ah-yeah-grand sort of juicy IPA.

But if you really want to go trend-chasing, how about Ireland's first brut IPA? I had genuinely never heard of this sub-style before Black's of Kinsale made one, and I still couldn't tell you the name of the archetype. What I do know is that Black's SuperDry is 6.5% ABV and showed up on tap in 57 The Headline on June bank holiday weekend. The hazy pale orange colour was normal enough, but the taste is weird. Yeasty grit was the first thing to come out, then a loud spicy and floral jasmine or hibiscus thing. After a moment that settled into a genuine Champagne flavour: white grape and toast, building gradually in sweetness until it's more like a Muscat. Once I'd had a good walk around that, turned it over and kicked it a bit, I decided it wasn't really for me. There's not enough proper hopping to it, and despite the complexity, that basic yeast dirt never really goes away. Still, I guess I'd better brace myself for more of these.

Belgian IPA, another twist on that genre, is a tricky style. The Americans tend to do it well; the Belgians struggle a bit. How would the Irish get on? This is Immram from The White Hag, a touch light on the style spec at 6.8%. It smells plenty full, though: a powerfully sweet peach and mango effect. Caraway creeps in in the flavour, as well as a severe plasticky bitterness. The Belgian esters are just about apparent but aren't the dominant feature, yet neither is there the fresh bright zing of the American hops. My biggest gripe is the carbonation: it's rather flat, which contributes to the overall sticky and sickly cloying effect. I can see the beer this is meant to be but it has come out a bit too rough and unready for my liking. Raging Bitch has nothing to worry about.

My one nod to the north comes in the form of Hillstown's The Crazy Horse double IPA, opened and shared round by Sean at UnderDog one evening. This leaves no one in any doubt about its 8.5% ABV: it's hot and heavy. From the dark ochre body arises a soupy yeast aroma infused with high-octane sherry and marker pens. The flavour adds an unsubtle metallic bitterness to this, though there is some token gentility in the hints of coconut. Overall, though, it's round, unfinished and quite amateur tasting. Definitely not in the same league as most Irish double IPAs these days.

What the heck is this? Copper Moose by Lough Gill, "Raspberry Vanilla Lactose Sour"? I was apprehensive. It's a hazy orangey pink and does smell like a proper framboise, fruity and tart with no sugary additions but a classy touch of mature oak on the end. It's a little sweeter to taste, yet not excessive: the raspberries taste real while the lactose, and the vanilla in particular, balance the sourness. To adapt a sour beer cliché, it cleans the teeth without stripping the enamel completely off. It's light too, only gently fizzy, and I was pleased to see the ABV matching that with 4.7%. The whole thing glides gently off the palate leaving a faint mouth-watering juiciness behind. Overall it's a pretty decent, balanced, and largely gimmick-free offering.

And speaking of gimmicks, here's a ginger beer as the Porterhouse's first summer special release. Bobblehead is all of 5.5% ABV so I don't get why it's so thin and insipid. It might have got away with the lack of substance if it had piled in the spices, but it hasn't, resulting in a soapy and watery effort. More of anything would have improved this, and kept it from tasting like nothing very much at all.

But back to fruit and sourness for a moment, and Dead Flag Blues, one with blueberries from Galway Bay Brewery. The odd twist here is the use of wine yeast, which lends it a lager-like cleanness and none of the stickiness you often get from mixing berries and malt. There's a crisp Champagne sparkle, though it is a little thin, even for the modest 4% ABV. It really is a beer that's more about the feels than the flavour, though it definitely does have one: tangy blueberry juice and drier skin tannins. It's simple and refreshing, reminding me a little of Prosecco with a raspberry dropped in it. It might be an interesting one to hack with barrels and Brett and whatnot.

From sour to saison, and and the fancy-canned No. 40 by White Hag, brewed in collaboration with Brew By Numbers and no friend to the exciseman at just 2.6% ABV. They've designated it a "table saison" and it looks like a witbier, a thin watery yellow colour with a head that crackles out of existence in short order. The aroma is a mix of lemons and yeast, smelling a bit like cold Lemsip or rustic lemonade gone wrong. The lemonade vibe is to the fore on tasting: sharp and tangy, but not severe. There's a chalky alkaline grit and then a funky phenol finish, a mild melding of barnyard and disinfectant. The lightness is apparent throughout -- with a low level of fizz it's easy to throw back, and it has much in common with a radler, minus the nerve-jangling sugar rush. That farmhouse funk is something I could do without: this is three quarters of a really good table beer, spoiled for me just at the very end.

There's a tendency among IPA-namers these days to highlight the on-trend juiciness of their product in the title. The reciprocal appears to be in effect with the double IPA Galway Bay released last week: Sans Juice. I guess "You Can Shove Your Super Split Up Your Hole" wouldn't fit on the badge. This is a full 9% ABV with an equally full body and a strong west coast vibe from the aroma: piney Pliny sprung immediately to mind. There's barely a wisp of haze in the pale amber body. The flavour? Yes, it's bitter: powerful and resinous with volatile herbal notes: spearmint and eucalyptus, befitting the use of Simcoe and Chinook. But it also has a fruity side, Amarillo bringing intensely sweet Seville orange, the vapours from which outlast the punchiness in the aftertaste. It's a fun beer, brightly flavoured and a great contrast to what double IPA has mostly become. Maybe it'll start a trend.

Also writing a big cheque with its name is Hop Central, created by Carlow Brewing for Tesco and billed as a dry hopped lager. It's a rather wan looking pale orange though with a proper craft haze, suggesting it hasn't been processed to within an inch of its life. No sign of dry hopping in the aroma while the flavour is dominated by savoury caraway with a dash of red onion. Yes, those hops. No zing, no juice and not really a proper bitterness. This does at least have character, and more than might be expected at 4% ABV. It lacks the power to refresh, however: a basic requirement of this sort of light lager.

Dublin's second-oldest microbrewery, JW Sweetman, has a new lager out for the World Cup in Russia. Bear Beer is billed as an amber lager but my pint was distinctly golden-looking. The accompanying copy mentions that the recipe is a nod to the reigning champions Germany, and that's certainly apparent from the aroma: a subtle waft of peppery green veg. On first taste I thought it a little characterless, expecting a dark malt richness that never arrives. I was a third of the way down before I figured out what was going on. It's smooth and clean, like a helles, and with that sort of subtle spun-sugar full-bodied sweetness. Those peppery hops lend it a late-arriving balancing piquancy. As a match-fit quaffing lager, this is ideal: easy drinking, unchallenging and avoiding the wateriness that the big brewers tend to feature in theirs. But there's something here too for the fussy lager bore: an authentic-tasting German helles. Leave the word "amber" to one side and enjoy it for what it is.

An amber ale to take us out: Showdown, which is new from Carrig. 5.5% ABV again, but this time properly chewy, the medium-dark malts bringing gentle toffee and tannins. Like the best amber ales, this is then livened up by the hops, here bringing herbal resins and juicy jaffa oranges. There's an air of good English bitter about it, and also a distinctly American zing too. It's refreshing and very moreish. If the brewery is planning a revamp of its slightly tired bottled line-up, this would fit well in it. As would most of their recent offerings really.

A closer look at what some other brewers have been up to in the next few posts.