Home at last

"This beer has been brewed and canned at our brewery in To Øl City, Svinninge, Denmark." After years living the gypsy life, To Øl has found a home. And presumably enough venture capital to build an entire city. Bless. The first tranche of releases to arrive from there to here constituted six cans.

The sextet begins with 45 Days, an organic pilsner. That description will forever be associated for me with the mediocre Mill St. Organic, common in Canada. I hoped for better. Even next to a freshly-mown lawn this had a deliciously enticing grass aroma with a mild pale-malt sweetness beneath. The texture is nicely soft with just enough stimulating fizz to avoid turning gloopy. There are no silly craft twists here, no unbalancing surprises, just a steady mix of lemon-cookie malt spiced up in the end with that grass bitterness, finishing cleanly. 45 days isn't a huge amount of lagering time, but they've made good use of it. Though the body is a little hefty for proper pils crispness, it's still a very nice beer. Send a case or two to Mill St.

All the rest are pale ales, of course. First up, a micro IPA named A Little Goes A Long Way. It's modestly micro at 3.5% ABV, a bit stronger than others I've encountered. It looks unappetising: a muddy dun colour. The flavour is quite washed out -- mostly savoury dregs with a rub of garlic and horseradish. I suppose it's one way to compensate for a lack of body: fill the can with scrapings from the bottom of the tank, but it doesn't result in good beer. There's no brightness or cleanness or charm, here, and it doesn't compare at all favourably with the likes of Whiplash Northern Lights. I hoped for better things from what followed.

Session IPA follows: City at 4.5% ABV. It looks like a glass of pineapple juice, being the same hazy orange-yellow with a watery translucency around the edges. The aroma offers vague and half-hearted New England elements: a little vanilla, some citrus and a lacing of allium. None of that transforms into anything major in the flavour. There's a chalky dryness at its core, around it washed-out flavours of lemon curd, garlic oil and bergamot. I guess this is designed for people who want the New England features but in a smaller package, and I can't argue that it doesn't deliver that. It's not a great beer in its own right, however, and I would find a session on it cloying and difficult about half way down the second. Take this review as a recommendation or a warning, according to personal taste.

A straight pale ale is next, called House of Pale, and though the ABV is up to 5.5% it's another washed-out looking murky one, this time resembling coconut milk rather than pineapple juice. The aroma is better: no thick sweetness, just a mild spritz of juicy jaffa and satsuma. The flavour is quite plain -- orangeade for the most part, fizzy and simple, with a lacing of garlic on the finish. They have the audacity to use the word "crisp" on the front of the can and it is not crisp at all. The body is the usual fluffy fuzz you get from hazy pale ales, and the blurb goes on to say it's full bodied and juicy. You can't have it both ways, lads. I'm not 100% sure what this is meant to be. It doesn't have enough of the hazy-boi qualities to be dismissed as one of those, but it's definitely not a properly clean pale ale. Stylistic quibbles aside, this is another ropy one. Going into the final IPAs I'm apprehensive and already missing that pils.

Penultimately, the one I was expecting to be hazy: Whirl Domination, an IPA at 6.2% ABV. Sure enough it's typical emulsion, a bright shade of yellow. The aroma is all fresh fruit: a salad of mandarin, mango and apricot, with a spritz of lime and some softer lychee. Promising. The citric bitterness is foremost, tangy and mouthwatering, though it's followed by a less endearing dreggy earthiness. There's a trace of the juicy, fleshy fruit, but not much, and also a seam of savoury garlic. On the whole, though, it's pretty good, and much more enjoyable than the previous three. The extra alcohol and resulting extra body helps round and soften the whole picture, while the inevitable wonky traits are kept on a short leash. I complain about hazy IPA a lot, here's one that gets the formula more or less right. Hurrah!

So what happens when we go up to double IPA levels? There's something quite portentous about the name #01DIPA, like this is how the new brewery wants to be seen from now on. It's 8.5% ABV and hopped with Centennial and Ekuanot. Rye, oats and wheat all feature in the grain bill and more haziness is promised, and delivered. The pour lends itself to iceman, with virtually no head in the offing. A concentrated fruit juice -- pineapple, mango -- is the opener, followed by softer peach and lychee, then a harder dreggy bitterness. It's very jolly up to that last part. There's no heat, which is unusual given the strength. Garlic and vanilla also don't feature. I surprised myself by rather enjoying it, searching in vain for all the usual flaws I find in these. Quite a worthy flagship, all things considered.

There are signs here that To Øl does know how to brew beer when left to its own devices, and the only problem with what they've presented so far is one of fashion and the market. I will definitely be checking in with them again.

Whipping back and forth

Brewing for a good cause seems to be all the rage these days. For their part, Dublin's Whiplash joined in Other Half's fund-raiser collaborative hazy IPA project All Together. The result is 6.5% ABV and a pale emulsion-yellow, the head fading quickly to nothing. Its aroma is enticingly fresh and juicy with lots of cantaloupe and tinned peaches. Low carbonation and an absence of booze heat make for easy drinking, and while the fruit is still prominent, especially in the finish, there's a twang of garlic oil too. All of it works harmoniously. The only downside is a slight dreggy grittiness which spoils the party a little, though there's still enough good stuff going on to counter it. It's a very decent creation, up with the best of what Whiplash does in this genre, and that it's for charity is no harm either. Look out for my review of Garage's take on it soon.

The brewery made waves and won awards with their micro IPA Northern Lights. It's a tough act to follow, but here's Sandstorm, at the same strength of 2.8% ABV. It smells juicy and refreshing, and clean, for all the hazy orange appearance. The flavour is similarly crisp and precise. I get mandarin, vanilla and nectarine -- a boarding-school dessert, sweet but not cloying. Of the compromised ABV there is no sign. It's properly full-bodied and full-flavoured, so the clever trick they pulled with Northern Lights is pulled again here, beautifully. There's a bit more fizz than one might expect for something hazy and dense, but that just helps make it refreshing without denting the complexity. This is great tack, and I hope it gets similar praise to what Northern Lights so deservedly got.

Whiplash is as Whiplash does, so of course there's a hazy double IPA in this set. Plausible Deniability is a collaboration with Garage and 8.2% ABV. It's proper custard-looking, the murk settling to the bottom of the can and ejecting itself into the glass while I wasn't looking. The aroma is quite dreggy, with a little peach and pineapple and a lot of earthy grit. Dregs don't feature in the flavour. Instead it's a concentrated stonefruit cordial: peach nectar and bright pink tropical juice mix. There's a dry chalky finish after this and lots of dizzying alcohol vapours. It doesn't quite work for me, being too hot and cloying. A fans-only job, I think, not that Whiplash is short of fans.

The murk-peddlars of Cherry Orchard very much reverting to type here. Two superb offerings out of three is an acceptable hit rate.

Themes may apply

Time for another unsorted round-up of new and new-to-me Irish beers. Content warning: some have pandemic-themed names, so if you're not into that, skip the first few.

Hope had the latest in their Innovation Series lined up for keg but it ended up getting canned with a rudimentary label instead. Plan C (19) is an American-hopped pale ale, 5% ABV and toting a heady mix of Idaho 7, El Dorado, Citra and Azacca. It certainly smells of the promised fruit candy: not juicy but definitely sweet. There's a surprise dankness in the foretaste, then Citra's lime punch before the more tropical hops add exotic vapours to the finish. The combination works incredibly well and repeats itself on every mouthful. 5% ABV gives it plenty of substance, the unfermented malt sugars carrying the hops across the palate. It's fun stuff, both fruity for the kiddies and properly bitter for the grown-ups. I only had one but a few of these would do no harm at all.

No half measures with the latest from Hopfully: Stay Safe! comes with a donation to frontline workers. This is a 6.2% ABV DDH IPA and is, of course, a murky yellow colour. The aroma is tragically savoury, like someone made a liqueur out of sesame seeds. And the same goes for the flavour: a middle eastern mix of parsley, onion, mint and garlic. This is not what IPA is supposed to taste like. The can doesn't tell us what the hops involved were, but it doesn't matter. I would be very interested to hear from anyone who has tried this and thinks it's an acceptable flavour for IPA. It's not for me, though I'm happy I contributed to a good cause.

"an IPA especially for this strange and unsettling time" reads the strange and unsettling description on Lock Down from Kildare Brewing. It's brewed with American hops to 6.3% ABV and pours a slightly sickly-looking opaque yellowish orange. The aroma is sweet and a little worty, with overtones of undiluted squash and lurid fruit icepops. I was expecting something overly sweet but the flavour surprised with a nicely assertive bitterness: a pithy, pulpy sort of effect, still in the realm of oranges but more about their tangy acidity than mouthwatering juice. The effect is accentuated by a dry mineral rasp; chalky plasterboard and flint. A slight wet-cardboard twang on the end suggests that oxidation might be a factor here, so if you've got one, drink it soon as. Overall it's quite decent, if lacking polish. I wouldn't describe it as west-coast exactly, but the flavour profile is definitely pointing more towards California than Vermont.

I recently reviewed Kinnegar's collaboration with the Brewgooder project and now it turns out Wicklow Wolf did one too. I'm guessing the name -- Are You Well? -- isn't intended as topical, but as a reference to Brewgooder's work creating clean water supplies for the developing world. It's a double IPA, though of a modest 7.3% ABV. The appearance is most unorthodox, for these days anyway: it's a clear amber colour. It uses Sabro: the other coconutty hop, and boy does it smell coconutty, with a pinch of the citrus that comes with it in Sorachi Ace beers. Despite that understated ABV it's quite thick, even a little syrupy. Thankfully the hops are in control, roaring over any potential malt stickiness. Lemon rind, marmalade on brown bread and a harder aspirin twang right on the finish. It's nearly a lovely clean and bitter west-coaster, being just a little too thick. I liked the weirdness, though, and loved that it's not another by-the-numbers cloudy yellow job.

The latest DOT to come my way is Southern Living, a hazy IPA, living large at 7.2% ABV. It's pale and custardy-looking, the aroma a lovely dessertish lemon meringue effect: a spritz of citrus on a soft vanilla base. That lemon and lime kick is more assertive in the flavour than I was expecting, and that's to the beer's benefit. It's fun how it stays fresh, clean and bitter while also soft and pillowy. Mind you, there's not much else going on: the spritz fades first, then the cakey sweetness follows it. It's decent, with none of the regular flaws of hazy IPA. That's probably its most distinguishing feature, however.

Trouble badged their new 7.6%-er, Speakerbox, a double IPA. It's an opaque orange shade with a stack of loose white bubbles on top, 440ml filling out a pint glass nicely. The aroma is juice-first, though there's a crisp edge of rye cracker and caraway in there too. The "double" epithet is earned in the texture: it is thick, though with legitimate chewy malt, not sickly syrup. It feels more like a classic bock or a hefty stout than most of what gets called IPA these days; balanced and not hot. The flavor is quite serious, centred on a very old-world jaffa-pith bitterness, fading first to wax and green veg before wafting a spritz of satsuma in the very finish. This, again, is very different to the hazy IPAs currently in fashion. Despite the haze there's much more of the west coast about it, albeit without the clear cleanness; and I also found myself thinking of English strong ale too: that mix of earthy hops and a malt-driven belly-warmth. Warm enough for it to feel a percentage point or two higher than it is. Stephen says he finds it difficult to interpret my reviews as positive or negative, so for his benefit, this is a positive one. I was hoping for a bit more zesty fun from Speakerbox, but appreciated its serious and grown-up take on the double IPA. Calibrate your palate before opening.

Teeny Tiny is a micro-IPA (3.3% ABV) originally brewed by Dead Centre to celebrate the first anniversary of their pub in Athlone a couple of months ago. The style is one where a high bar has been set locally by Whiplash's Northern Lights. The can doesn't state the location of production, though I understand from a recent Irish Beer Snob podcast that Dead Centre beers are now being brewed at 12 Acres. Anyway, it's a bright and hazy orange colour and smells both fruity and spicy: a traditional Christmas mix of satsumas and nutmeg. There's nothing teeny or tiny about the flavour. It's starts with a big citrus tang, almost verging on sour, and behind this are savoury herbs (dill, marjoram) and a rich layer of vanilla. A waft of garlic finishes it off. It's convincing. The features here are very much those of modern IPA and are uncompromised by the low strength. My only complaint is that I'd like the hop flavours to be brighter and fruitier: not an unreasonable request when Citra and El Dorado are involved. Nevertheless, just like Northern Lights, this is an impressive trick of the brewer's art.

Speaking of which, there's a new Whiplash out and they've gone for something hazy and hoppy this time: an IPA called Reckoner. Though a full 6.3% ABV it smells light and casual, a gentle fruit salad with pineapple, mango and mandarin segments. The texture is smooth -- thanks oats! -- and the flavour is... a surprise. The first thing I got wasn't fruit but garlic, chased by mild vanilla and a bite of earthy yeast sharpness. As IPA flavours go, it's the group of death for me but there's a kick of juice right at the finish that saves it. Not overly sweet, not overly savoury and barely dreggy with no heat. While I'm not bowled over by it I enjoyed my time in its company. It's solid, steady and perhaps deserving of a place in the regular lineup.

Just before the end of life-as-we-knew-it, White Gypsy released a pair of continental-style lagers which I've been seeking ever since. I'll keep looking for the Vienna*, but meanwhile here is White Gypsy Munich Lager. The appearance doesn't give the full München Bierkeller experience, there being a slight haze adding a greyish tint to the otherwise golden liquid. It's incredibly rich: full-bodied and teaming with golden-syrup malt flavours. I had been blithely assuming this was a Helles, that being the workaday beer style of Munich, but it's much more Märzen-tasting. 5.8% ABV should probably have been a clue there. To the initial golden syrup you can add spongecake, cut grass and a slightly off-putting kick of banana. This isn't a summer beer garden lager. It's one to hunker down with when the rain is pelting outside and you're debating lighting the fire. No easy drinking here, but if you're after süffig, this has it in spades.

(*Derp! I've already had it. Review here.)

Staying on lager, Dundalk Bay has released a Brewmaster Maibock. Bit of an unfashionable style, but that's no harm, especially now that it's apparently May. It's a lovely rose-gold colour and smells sweetly of honeyish malt with an air of fresh-mown grass behind. Both texture and flavour are absolutely on point for the style, and it's not even a style I particularly enjoy, normally. Though a whopping 6.5% ABV it's smooth rather than sticky, keeping the sweetness on the down-low. Its noble hops are a peppery seasoning on the base, with none of the burnt plastic or busy cabbage that German hops can impart if they're not kept under control. The whole picture -- and this is very much a whole-picture beer -- is clean and distinctive: Maibock done precisely according to the guidelines and indistinguishable from a really good German example. Well played, Dundalk Bay.

From the bay on the opposite coast, Galway Bay, comes Lux Raspberry, a fruited sour ale. It's very pink: a hazy rose-coloured body topped by cerise foam. Obviously I expected this to be one of those jammy sugarbombs that everyone makes these days, but it's not: there's a proper sourness here. It's no Belgian framboise, being too candy-flavoured and doesn't taste of real raspberries, macerated or otherwise. It's far from unpleasant, however. No trace of jam or lactose here but perfume, sherbet and a splash of classy balsamic. These can be a little thin, but a full 5% ABV gives this decent substance, while there's a neat and clean finish. Both complex and undemanding, this is a fun and only slightly silly little number.

Brú has pushed ahead with the roll-out of its revamped line-up, including an "American Red IPA" called Atlantic Odyssey. It's not very red and, at just 5.5% ABV, not terribly American either. Can't argue with the aroma, though: fresh and peachy, with an underlying promise of refreshing lemon tea. On tasting it goes heavier on the malt: a chewy sort of cake and fudge. I probably should have expected this to taste more like an American amber ale and I'm not at all complaining that it does. The IPA boost comes in a harder bitter twang in the finish, turning a little vegetal or even metallic, but it's of the balancing-complexity sort and not at all a flaw. This is good. Classically styled and accessible; making good use of dark malts and C-hops in modest quantities while staying interesting and engaging. At first I thought the relatively low strength was a mistake but by then end I was wishing they had made it more sessionable.

Also continuing business as usual is Eight Degrees. Beer number two in their Irish Munro series is Glen of Imaal, an oatmeal pale ale. It's a handsome clear golden colour and smells sweetly fruity, with a Starburst effect from Vic Secret and Amarillo hops. Alongside them are Mandarina Bavaria and HBC-692, a Sabro variant. Sure enough there's that pith-and-coconut effect, low on the latter but tasting strongly of real jaffa. The oatmeal gives it a body and an intensity worthy of something much stronger, those pithy hops staying constant through the finish and into the aftertaste. One could accuse this of being a little one-dimensional but I really enjoyed what it does: there's nothing plain or boring about its big punchiness. Galway Bay's Goodbye Blue Monday has long been the byword for hop-intense oatmeal pale ale in these parts. This gives it some serious competition.

Reel Deel's Winter Ale is out of season, but such details hardly matter any more: sometimes you just need something strong, dark and comforting to hold you from the inside. It's 6.5% ABV so not rocket fuel, a rich chestnut brown colour and sustains a layer of ivory foam all the way down. The comfort factor is unfortunately quite low. Yes there's a big chocolate flavour but not the body to back it up. The special ingredients are ginger and star anise and it's the latter that stands out: a strong punch of aniseed, rendered sharper by a tangy sourness in the base beer. I think the fundamental problem here is over-attenuation. The richness has fermented out of it leaving just the pointy bits, laced with mild vinegar. It may have been better in actual winter; now it's something of a challenge to get through.

So that's what's happening at the moment, broadly speaking. The virus doesn't seem to have dampened anyone's appetite for IPA.

May have been drinking

I nearly let May go past without a random Irish beer round-up. And it's not like I haven't been drinking random Irish beers. Let's see what's in the notebooks.

Whiplash made a few waves with its Northern Lights "micro IPA". It's only 2.8% ABV so obviously one would expect thin and watery. It's not though, not at all. The appearance is thickly beige, typical of many a haze-craze DDH DIPA. This continues in the creamy mouthfeel, and a flavour of milkshake-like vanilla, a twang of garlic and some yeast bite. It's not to my taste but I know plenty of people who like this sort of thing and it's very impressive at the strength. On the other hand, a 475ml glass in UnderDog cost €7.95, and that's a lot of money to pay to see a magic trick.

Lacada's new one, Escudos, is also going for a New Englandy vibe, and also at a modest strength: 4.5% ABV. I wasn't a fan of this either, the gritty yeast making it harsh and sharp, with an unpleasant whiff of bleach in the aroma with the stonefruit. There a soft, fruity and quenching beer in here somewhere, but the execution is off. Thanks to Simon for the pre-release preview taster.

Another juicy sessioner? All right then. This is Juice Ball from Black's of Kinsale, on tap at Drop Dead Twice for their Star Wars Day tap takeover. We're up to a dizzying 4.8% ABV here, and finally some clean flavours. Sweet yet pithy mandarin is the centrepiece, with a heavier resinous dank in the background. It's light, and maybe a little watery, but forgivably so; well built for a sunny summer session.

On the May Bank Holiday I took a spin up to Howth to see how the nanobrewery in The Harbour Bar was getting on. There didn't seem to be much action at the brewhouse but there is a house lager: Just Crafty. I was assured it's brewed on a separate pilot kit. Hmm. I was given a beautifully clear golden pint, one with a sweet corny foretaste followed by a drier mineral finish and emerging fruit esters as it warmed. No rough edges; nothing that suggests early-career out-of-town brewpub. A lot that suggests, to me, rebadged Wicklow Wolf Arcadia. Drop me a line if you know the full story, or if I'm being unreasonably suspicious.

Moving on to more transparent brewery/pub tie-ins: two new releases from Galway Bay Brewery. Trusty Chords landed last month, a 5% ABV reddish pale ale. The badge bigged-up its Simcoe usage so I was surprised by the big and juicy pineapple aroma and flavour. Where's the dank?! To be honest I didn't miss it; after the tropical fruit comes a chalky dryness and a tiny whisp of crystal toffee. It reminded me a little of that unfairly unlamented style, American amber ale, with its straightforward, hop-forward simplicity. And it's clear! Hoppy and clear is too rare.

May's release, Vignette, is definitely not clear. This is a pale and murky session IPA at 3.5% ABV. I got pineapple as an opener again, this time becoming bitterer almost immediately, introducing guava and then lime. The carbonation is low, the texture a tad thin, and there's a bit of yeast fuzz in the finish, but none of this spoils it. Up against the ice cream thickness of Northern Lights I'd take this crisp and citrus job for refreshment every time.

Reuben put together a beer with Kildare Brewing for his wedding, playing to the brewery's strengths with a Vienna lager. Pauline & Reuben's Wedding Brew was absolutely bang on style: 4.8% ABV, copper coloured with a very slight murk, which I'm sure had more to do with the drive down to Cork than any flaw in the brewing process. There's lots of cruchy oat cookie in here, a little caramel, and a substantial noble hop bitterness in the finish. Very gulpable, without distracting in any way from the festivities.

Appropriately enough for May, YellowBelly released a Maibock, named Paul's On Holiday since their designer wasn't around to do a label for it. Again this is very much true to type, and unfortunately so for me as I got an instant reminder of why I don't like Maibock. There's a harsh plasticky flavour which I often get from German hops in high doses, going beyond celery and spinach into whiteboard markers and acetone. 6.9% ABV gives it plenty of room for malt character, especially with that amber colouring, and while there's a pleasant marzipan sweetness it's not enough to counter the hop acridity. This is one of the ones I'll have to chalk up as perfectly executed but not at all to my liking.

The new canned special from Wicklow Wolf is, for reasons best known to the brewers, called Agnostic Pucker and is a double IPA. It's... not what I expected. Wicklow Wolf is unashamedly American in its influences, and when you think US DIPA you thick bright and zingy citrus or, if you're more inclined to fashion, vanilla/garlic soupiness. But this amber coloured 8%-er is more serious about its hopping, going for an altogether more English-tasting metals and tannins. There's a mature leathery quality, like you'd find in a barley wine or well matured old ale. It's thick and chewy, warming and boozy, with overtones of ripe strawberry and lime rind. I've opened bottles of long-neglected strong IPAs I've made, and they've tasted a lot like this; the fresh hops faded leaving just the punch behind. I was quite charmed by it, but those expecting double IPA the American Way are in for a let down.

Kinnegar released the second in its Three Bagger trilogy. The original saison was reviewed back in January. Ageing and Brettanomyces has turned it into a 9% ABV tripel, named Phunky Monk. From the 75cl bottle it poured a bright gold colour, clear for the first glass but murkier later on. It hasn't lost its saison qualities and I think calling it a tripel is a bit of a misnomer: there's none of the sugary qualities of tripel, and the spicing is quite different. What's on offer here is a light-bodied Belgian style beer, where the Brett has added a soft peach and raisin fruitiness as well as sparks of incense and sandalwood. A kick of mouthwatering citrus finishes it off. It's a wonderfully clean profile, the flavours polished and distinct. Drinking outside on a warm day I found it actively refreshing, which is not the norm for beer at this strength. Once it had warmed up a little there emerged a small honey note which perhaps could help it pass as a tripel, but I remain dubious. Style quibbles aside it's absolutely beautiful and I'm gagging to find out what the grand finale will be.

While we wait, the latest Kinnegar beer to hit the shelves is Thumper, a double IPA of 7.8% ABV. It's a medium amber colour and smells worryingly oniony: crisp and green and acidic. The flavour is mercifully softer, bringing in ripe tropical fruit -- your mangoes and your pineapples -- while the carbonation is remarkably low: it's not quite flat, but the sparkle is distinctly cask-like. That would be a problem if it were one of those thick and sugary double IPAs, but it's not, staying light and easy-going throughout. "Easy-going" is probably the most apt descriptor here: there are no fireworks, no big American punch, and certainly no *yawn* on-trend New England milkshake creaminess. It's a solid beer though, full of the joy of fresh hops, and only a wee bit onionish. An accessible, every-day sort of double IPA.

Staying in parts west for the next couple, I received this bottle courtesy of a fellow blogger who may wish to remain anonymous. He didn't think much of either the name or the beer inside. I am inclined to agree, on both counts. Dirty Lil' Blonde (ugh) is the first release from Heartland Brewing in Ballinasloe, Co. Galway. In keeping with the title, perhaps, it poured a swampy ochre colour with only token carbonation. There's a distinct twang of swimming-pool phenols in the aroma, though a cheerier jaffa note is just about peeking through behind it. The flavour is swimming pool, however. Really nasty. I did my best to mentally filter that out, and I could detect more pleasant fruit in the background: lychee and white grape in particular. But this is very obviously infected and ought not to be on the market.

A couple of new beers in new venues to round things off. After years of neglect, the pub on the corner of Kevin Street and Patrick Street re-opened in March, taking the name The Fourth Corner as a knowing nod to the junction's notorious past. It's a dim but spacious bar, with a token selection of independent beers, which is something at least. What got me in the door was the presence of Loudons Pale Ale from a new brewery in Co. Clare. It's the only pub serving it in Dublin, as far as I'm aware, and is doing so for a damned reasonable €5 a pint.

It's 4.2% ABV, a medium gold colour and full of fruit esters to an almost Belgian degree, showing banana, mango and peach. There's no real heat or weight to all this, thankfully, and it remains easy-going, unfussy and decent. I was served it very cold and, counter-intuitively, it lost flavour as it warmed up. This is just complex enough to be interesting but seems very much to be pitched as a by-the-pint sessioner, which is fair enough.

I also paid my first visit to Klaw Pokē on Capel Street, using a bowl of fish and beans as cover for trying the house beers, brewed for them by Hopfully. KIPA is a 5.3% ABV pale ale with a gently peachy aroma and a perfume flavour which begins on juicy mango and melon before going bitterer with apricot skin, all topped by incense and white pepper spicing. The fruit gives it overtones of Little Fawn, but thicker and bitterer. It has enough presence to work well as a food beer, though the perfume does get a little full-on as it warms. Drink it quick.

I followed with Suck 'n' Shuck, a lighter offering at 3.8% ABV. I guess in keeping with the Pacific theme of the joint this is loaded up with Sorachi Ace hops so tastes powerfully of coconut. Too powerfully, I think, and I say that as an unabashed Sorachi fan. There isn't enough substance to carry the hop load and the only other flavour I got was muddy yeast. A bit more malt and some cleaning up would really improve this one, and I think a warning (or advertisement) about the Sorachi might be a good idea.

Klaw also has a house porter, but that'll have to wait until the next time I'm gone fishing.

There's something of a pale and hoppy theme running through this lot. Seasonal appropriateness is all well and good on paper, but I wouldn't mind a stout or two in the mix for summer 2018.

Capital scoops

If you can go the whole taxi ride from Ronald Reagan airport to downtown Washington DC without the theme from House of Cards playing in your head you have better self-control than me. The American capital was the third and final stop on my autumn tour of the USA, and it was much more about the museums and monuments than the beer. The sights are conveniently clustered along the National Mall making it very easy to hop from one to the next. The downside is that the planners haven't allowed for the normal functions of a city -- bars, restaurants and whatnot -- in between. So beering in DC tended to be a separate activity at the end of the day, rather than interspersed as I'd prefer.

Our accommodation for the couple of nights was placed in between the touristy and governmental bit in the south of the city and a good eating and drinking quarter further north. My top find was The Logan Tavern, the sort of good quality, good value neighbourhood restaurant that I'd hoped to find a lot of in America but turned out to be in short supply wherever I went. We ate here twice, affording the opportunity to get properly acquainted with its beer list.

The first beer I ordered wasn't a new tick: Northern Lights IPA by Virginia brewery Starr Hill had showed up at the 2010 Great British Beer Festival. It was much better on keg and closer to the source: still pretty full-on with the brassy bitterness but with an added peachy complexity that improves it massively.

DC Brau is a well-established local outfit, and the first of theirs I tasted was called Citizen, a 7% ABV Belgian-style pale ale. It's hazy orange and has a marmalade aroma, mixing bitter jaffa peel with old-world spices. There's a nicely smooth texture and it incorporates lots of very Belgian fruity esters, though does get a little overly sweet and boozy as it goes along. A smidge more balancing hops would be good, I reckon.

I thought I was in for another sticky orange experience with Duckpin Pale Ale. It certainly smelled heavy and cloying, despite being only 5.5% ABV. But the flavour and texture both proved to be a surprise: it's lightly effervescent with a solid hop bitterness behind the citrus high notes. A really well-executed pale ale that lets you think you're drinking something much stronger.

And a weissbier to finish: Feed the Monkey from Jailbreak Brewing, in Maryland. This presents like a witbier, being a hazy pale yellow, and tastes like one too: a sharp squirt of lemon zest that's very out of keeping for a German-style hefeweizen. The other bit of complexity is a waft of diesel which suggests to me beer that's still a bit green. The lack of weissbier smoothness and roundness is probably the biggest let down, especially since it should be plenty strong enough at 5.6% ABV. As a beer it's just about OK but it's strange for a style spec as straightforward as this to be completely missed by the brewer in charge.

Just around the corner from The Logan is Washington's most famous craft beer bar: Church Key. This is a roomy first-floor attic above the Birch & Barley restaurant, owned by the same people and with which it shares its very substantial beer menu.

L: Grapefruit Sculpin; R: Bell's Brett

Trusty old Bell's of Kalamzaoo was the first brewery on the menu to catch my eye and I ordered their Brett Berliner Weisse. It's an ugly beast, arriving murky, headless and flat. The farmyard funk is right up front and sets the tone for the rest of the beer; an acidic tartness reduced to just a quick flash across the palate before it all tails off into watery silence. I've no problem with interesting flavour additions to Berliner weisse but this one just wasn't interesting enough; and may even have been a waste of a decent base beer. Bring back the fruit syrup.

Herself picked Ballast Point's iconic Grapefruit Sculpin. I wasn't a big fan of the original and this isn't much of an improvement. The real grapefruit bitterness does help offset the massive toffee rather better but everything that's wrong with Sculpin is still wrong with this: too sticky, too harsh, too difficult to drink.

DC Brau's On The Wings Of Armageddon, conversely, does hot 'n' hoppy rather better. This double IPA is 9.2% ABV but despite the monstrous name and monstrous strength has a subtle flowery aroma while the flavour offers a big but gentle lemon zest quality, suggesting the use of Sorachi Ace hops. It's properly heavy and sippable, like a double IPA should be, but like the best ones it's not hot or cloying. Others may find it a bit of a lightweight but it sat perfectly with me.

All these beers at Church Key were really just filling in the time it took me to leaf through the cinderblock of a bottle list. I eventually settled on Stillwater's Cellar Door, a saison with added sage. It's a big 6.6% ABV and a hazy yellow colour. At the core it's a light and breezy lemon-and-straw farmhouse beer with just a mild oily lacing of sage. It offers a pleasant mix of sweet and savoury: on the one hand easy drinking but I couldn't help feeling that each part could do with being turned up a little. Nevertheless it's perfectly enjoyable and neither overly saisonish nor in any way gimmicky.

Also nearby there was a branch of the Whole Foods supermarket chain which became a handy source of supplies for the apartment, including beer. First to pique my interest from the large selection here was Oak-Aged Noble Rot from Dogfish Head: I do like a bit of botrytis now and then. The base beer is a saison though it's a stonking 9% ABV, and I got the dry saison straw in the aroma, alongside the sweet white grapes. The flavours line-up in this fashion too, starting dry and grainy, then with a Shloer-like grape sweetness. Which is fine until the oak kicks in, big and nasty, turning the whole thing into a 1980s Chardonnay experience. As it warms, the alcohol becomes more pronounced and by the end I was tasting Calvados and lamp oil. This beer needs some dialling back: the concept is sound, but there's so much concept going on it interferes with the quality.

I bought a six-pack of Escape to Colorado, an IPA by Epic brewing of Colorado, formerly of Utah, and not to be confused with the New Zealand operation of the same cliché name. It's 6.2% ABV, pale yellow and absolutely roaring with Mosaic. You know when you peel an onion and under the brown papery skin there's a layer of thick leathery green skin? It tastes exactly like that, with maybe a touch of dry and crispy fried onion as well. This is an extremely one-dimensional beer and it's not a good dimension. Bad Mosaic! Naughty Mosaic!

And a Californian to finish: Bear Republic's Apex double IPA. 8.25% ABV and a dense dark orange colour with lots of sediment left behind in the bomber bottle. From the first sip I was wondering how long this had been sitting refrigerated on a shelf in Whole Foods. I felt entitled to at least some hop character but this is all hot toffee and caramel with just a sharp bitter tang on the finish. There's no charm or balance to it, which does not strike me as the usual way things are done at Bear Republic. Them's the $8 breaks, I guess.

That's some good scooping value we got out of two pubs and a supermarket. It's kinda nice not to be doing long pub crawls every evening for a change. On Wednesday I'll take a look at a couple of DC brewpubs.

Of significant import: part 1

Every year the Bières Sans Frontières bar at the Great British Beer Festival seems to become more and more integrated into the main part of the festival. Last year saw the end of its own separate website, and this year there was no separately published programme: the beers being listed in the main CAMRA booklet for the whole event. A sign that CAMRA is taking more seriously the role that foreign beer plays in bringing drinkers to the festival; or just a way of making sure the corporate brand is appropriately applied to one of the Campaign's outlying vassals? I don't know. It doesn't matter. What matters is that, once again at the GBBF, there was a fantastic array of cask, keg and bottled beers from all over. The US is generally the centrepiece of this (for the serious beer geeks at least) and this post is about what came over from Stateside.

Memories of 2008 and the amazing Lost Abbey Angel's Share I had from BSF that day meant I had no qualms about going straight for another of their thumping barley wines as soon as the doors opened. This year it was the 2009 edition of Older Viscosity: 12.5% ABV and matured in bourbon barrels; dark dark amber and pancake flat; silky smooth and brimming with rich sherry aromas, tasting of cherries, chocolate and vanilla in equal proportions. Just my kind of beer, though not everyone around the table was into it. I blame the ridiculous received notion that beers over 12% ABV should only be consumed after 1pm. Pah!

To match it with something similarly strong dark and heavy for the wife, I picked Stone's Smoked Porter With Vanilla Bean. She liked it, but it wasn't to my taste at all: the vanilla tastes jarringly artificial and sticky, leaving next to no room for the lovely dark malt and smoke. I was much more impressed by Stone's Arrogant Bastard (can you believe I'd never tasted this?): it starts out with a caramel and treacle weight, but then lifts off suddenly on a cloud of fresh and juicy hops. Magic.

Last of the dark Americans was Rogue Mocha Porter, a surprisingly fizzy affair, but using it too good effect: pushing out lots of lovely sweet chocolate and dry roasty stout flavours.

IPAs were of course in abundance, though none really stood out for me. The St George IPA from Virginia, hopped entirely with Fuggles, was one of the best, believe it or not, with a lovely sherbet tang to the orange bitterness. Big Eye IPA ramps up the sherbet even more, and while I really liked it, there's just a little bit of a bum soapy note right where it leaves off. I expected better things from Opa Opa IPA (I'm not sure why), but it proved slightly harsh and not very interesting overall. Then, purely on name recognition, I had a Northern Lights pale ale from Starr Hill, a brewery I know through its blogging ambassador Mr Velky Al. I like the caramel sweetness with which this begins, but the hops were just too brash and brassy at the end, I'm afraid. Sorry Al.

Trophy beer for this post, however, was one Impy Malting pointed out to me, and upon which she has written lavishly here. American Flatbread is the brewery and Solstice Gruit the beer: an intense cocktail of sultry incense, tart berries and heady perfume. Madly tasty and one of the best unhopped beers I've had. That's the way to gruit.

Foreign beer from closer to home next...