Showing posts with label red right hand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label red right hand. Show all posts

01 June 2026

Shady happenings

It was a mix of sunshine and showers on the mid-May weekend in Kilkenny, so it's just as well the motorised awnings over the beer garden of Sullivan's Taproom were in good working order. The annual beer festival brought a selection of breweries from around Ireland. I was last here two years ago, and since then a new brewery has sprung up next to the drinking space, though I suspect this is more an expansion of the pilot kit, rather than a full production site for contract-brewed flagships like Maltings red and Black Marble stout -- both fine beers, of course.

More Sullivan's small-batch beer is to be welcomed, and the indoor bar had three of them. California Common is one of those styles which made it from a million homebrew kits to a thousand microbreweries as the brewers went professional in the '00s, but which hasn't had much of a permanent impact on the beer scene. It's always nice to see one in the wild, even if they're rarely spectacular. This one certainly wasn't, but gets the job done. It's 4.5% ABV and an attractive rose-gold colour with a crisp, biscuit-like aroma. That's what the flavour opens with, followed by a brief green and leafy bite of old-world hops. It's refreshing, and almost clean, with only a slightly inappropriate warm-fermentation banana note towards the finish. The slightly rough-and-rustic character is part of its charm, and I wouldn't be surprised if that's deliberate.

You'll need to do your own historical research on the next one. Sullivan's claims that Viess is an old German style, ancestor of both Kölsch and Weissbier. News to me, and Ron's got nothing on it. I can tell you that Home Rule, as they've called it, is a clear golden beer of 4.7% ABV, though tastes light for that. The flavour doesn't resemble either of those top-fermenting styles, being brightly fruity, with pear and lychee notes to the fore. It's a wheat beer, but has a clean lager crispness, and is very refreshing and sinkable, while also showing an interesting complexity. So while I don't know what it is, I really enjoyed it, and that's enough.

Last of the house beers is East Coast IPA. I do know what this is meant to be, and it's not one. The problem isn't even the tiddling 4.9% ABV: perfectly decent New England-style IPA is possible at this strength. For one thing -- and despite my backlit photo of it -- it's a worrying deep orange colour, suggesting inappropriate caramelised malt, or worse: oxidation. It's also mostly clear, and the lack of fuzz also gives it an unpleasant thinness. Moving on to attack the flavour, it has a dull sweetness, like orange jellies, and then a plasticky twang on the finish. There is none of the full-on hop freshness which is the whole purpose of hazy IPA, so it's more like the early examples, where it seemed brewers were following the instructions without ever having experienced what the end result is supposed to be. Quality-wise, this was a marked contrast to the other two, and I hope it's not indicative of what the new Sullivan's kit is providing to the good people of Kilkenny.

Moving out to the guest bars, there were two new ones for me from Bullhouse of Belfast. Keep Rolling is described as a hoppy lager and is 4.8% ABV. It looks rather wan and sickly, a hazed up pale yellow. I was expecting it to feel watery so was very pleasantly surprised by its soft and creamy texture. No crispness, but I didn't miss it. It is fizzy, however, and that pushes out a classically American citrus aroma. So it goes with the flavour too, the lemon and grapefruit notes complicated by a touch of Kellerbier's husky grain. To me, it tasted like a hybrid of well-made American-style pale ale and an unfiltered German lager. That's a nice space to be in.

The rolling continues with the more informally-named Easy Rollin'. This is the actual pale ale in the series; 4.2% ABV and as light as one might expect from that. It's still fully hazed, however, and has a solid measure of vanilla sweetness in with its zesty lemon. That gives it a sort of spongecake flavour, although a background buzz of garlic detracts from that. I guess it does what it's supposed to: channelling the haze characteristics in a modest and easy-going package. Whoever brewed the East Coast for Sullivan's could learn a few things from it, and I hope they tasted it on the day.

Joining the California Common in beer-styles-we-don't-see-much-of was Vore, a Vienna lager from Galway Bay Brewery. After the murk this was a treat to look at: a crystal clear shade of garnet. It was heavier than expected at 5.2% ABV, managing to have a dense and filling texture but without the rich biscuity malt that should come with it. Instead it's dry, with a simplistic grassy bitterness from some perfunctory hopping -- the brewery's claim that it's dry hopped could not be tasted, at least by me. I wanted to like it but it just didn't deliver what I needed. Too heavy to be a thirst-quencher, but too dull to be worth sipping slowly, puts it in an unfortunate spot. Thoughts of settling into a few pints of it once I'd tried all the new beers were regretfully put aside.

The end was indeed in sight, with Peninsula, a new double IPA from Whiplash, in collaboration with Breton brewery Sparkle. More haze is it? If we must. This is a pretty good example, and something of a return to form for Whiplash after a few recent disappointing efforts. This one mixes smooth and sweet vanilla with spiky, spicy (presumably) New Zealand hops. Soft apricot meets tart gooseberry on a bed of rocket, seasoned with peppercorns. What more could you want from this sort of beer? Though all of 8.4% ABV, it's smooth and cool, with no dreggy off flavours. This is a much-needed reminder that it is possible to make delicious hazy double IPA. I wish more brewers would learn that.

My favourite beer of the day was actually the one I started on: The People's Elder, a sour ale from Brehon Brewhouse, made with elderberry. It's very pale, and light-bodied for 5.2% ABV, but it's no slouch in the flavour department. It zings with a refreshing tartness, at once both spicy and crisp, with grapefruit zest overtones. The elder doesn't contribute much that I could identify, but I was happy not to have it interfering with the sunny spritz effect. I would happily have had another straight after and would love to see this beer out and about more.

That was all the new beer I had to try. I was back at Brehon for my finisher: their excellent bourbon-barrel barley wine Red Right Hand, which is a treat in any weather. Cheers to Sullivan's for running a festival which is enjoyably casual, well-stocked and, crucially, waterproof.


06 April 2020

The lock-in

All packaged beers for this random round-up, understandably, I hope.

The first is the first offering from a brand new brewer, Crafty Hopster, based in Waterford and brewing at Metalman. They kindly sent me a couple of free cans. All Hail is a pale ale, just 4% ABV but a more serious, dense-looking shade of amber in the glass. It's not hazy, only slightly misty. The can has lots of text on it but tells us almost nothing about the beer. To my nose, the hopping is some juicy American combination as it smells gorgeous, of fresh lychee, mango and passionfruit. That translates directly to a sorbet effect in the foretaste; a mouthwatering fruit sweetness with minimal bitterness. The finish is quick and the mouthfeel understandably thin, but this isn't to the beer's detriment and may actually help keep the sweetness from cloying. It's deliciously sessionable, in fact. I suspect that the delicate hop flavour won't survive long in the can so I hope they can get this into drinkers' hands quickly. It's well worth a go if you see it.

Not so much a brand new brewery as a reborn one, Brú is now under the management of the former Carrig brewery and is in the process of relaunching its range, including revamped Brú recipes, some beers carried over from the Carrig days, and some completely brand new stuff. Osiris IPA is in the latter category. It's 6.2% ABV and a pale orange juice colour. Citra, Ekuanot, Mosaic and Enigma are the hops, giving it quite a juicy aroma, though with a slightly off-putting rubbery element too. And that's the main thing I got from the flavour -- sulphur, burnt plastic, maybe some chlorophenol, with the citrus flesh hovering behind it but mostly buried. This may just be one of those hop combinations that sits awkwardly on my palate, but I'm not sure it is. When racking my brains for where I've tasted it before, I came up with former Brú IPAs Rí and Darkside, so it's presumably in their system somewhere. Even though I know this beer to be spanking fresh, it tastes dusty and stale to me. If there's an issue beyond my shonky sensory acumen, I hope they get it sorted before taking things further.

Back to the pale-and-hoppy 4% ABV theme, and a new one from White Hag, Phantom, which they've had the audacity to call an IPA. It's the yellow emulsion colour of lemon curd and I get very little aroma, just a light citrus spritz. Thin texture again, and here it is more of an issue: it feels like it's trying to be one of those full and smooth New England types but the substance just isn't there. The flavour starts juicy, but then I was interrupted, and when I came back to the glass after it had warmed and flattened a little, it had turned savoury: a little garlic and quite a lot of sesame. This shows the standard features of a New England IPA, to the point of seeming samey and unimaginative, but they're also quite muted and distant. After the Brett fireworks of Little Olcan, Phantom seems like a misstep from the brewery, or at least something not up to their recent standards.

As if to underline that, here's Talti, the new White Hag saison which has spent two years barrel ageing. It has come out a slightly hazy yellow and pours very fizzy. I wondered if the fermentation has entirely stopped, and if the mere 4.4% ABV stated is accurate. That said, it's light and spritzy with a counter-melody of farmyard funk. The texture is crisp and the high carbonation prevents the Brettish stonefruit from clogging up the palate. I would like a little more body to carry the complex flavours but I also appreciate the session strength at which they've delivered it. Another funky tour de force from White Hag here.

After the excitement of last year's pool ball beers, Eight Degrees have followed up with a new themed limited sequence for this year: the Irish Munro Series. First up is Hill of the Serpent, a black IPA, though they've gone with the wankier "Cascadian dark ale" as the description. I guess it's the word "serpent" in the title that means two decimal places were necessary in the stated ABV: 6.66%. No brown half-measures in the colour here: it shows up as a dark ruby when held up to the light but is otherwise a pure glossy black. Tar bitterness leaps out of the aroma: Cascade, Centennial and Chinook is the classic combination at work. And yet, the bitterness is restrained on tasting, leaving room for the pine and grapefruit hallmarks of those hops. The dark malt gives it a smooth and stoutish texture, combining with the hop citrus to create a fun spritzy candy thing on the end. I usually prefer my black IPAs with a little more punch but I was definitely charmed by this calm, balanced and classy number. It bodes well as we begin the ascent through this series.

The spirit of Kellyanne Conway is channelled in the new one from O Brother, a dry-hopped sour ale called Alternative Facts. It looks like most beers in this style: that wan hazy yellow, and the ABV is just 4%. There's little sign of those hops in the aroma, and the can neglects to tell us what they are. Similarly the flavour has only a very faint lemon barley water quality, and not much sourness either. It's vaguely wheaty, with a tang of old sweat, but watery more than anything. If it wasn't fresh into the can I would swear it had been sitting on a shelf too long. Poor show.

"seasonable" is the description on Wide Street's latest, though I resisted the urge to sprinkle it with salt and pepper. The Wild Table - Ariana is presumably the first in a series of table beers, this one using German hop variety Ariana. It's 4.1% ABV and a very pale white-gold. For some reason I thought it would be dry and crisp but the aroma is rich and fruitsome, packed with ripe peach, mango and cantaloupe. Fruity and funky in equal measure, goes the flavour: a sticky Gewürztraminer, finishing on a note of drains that won't come clean no matter how much disinfectant is poured down there. It's not unpleasant, but it's challenging too: by no means the introduction to Brettanomyces that Talti offers. For me, three mouthfuls took care of the can. The foretaste is very moreish and it's best not to let the finish unfold too much. I'm none the wiser as to what Ariana hops taste like but I look forward to the next in the series.

I feel like Larkin's Lore is an old friend at this stage. I first tasted their doppelbock for barrel-ageing at the brewery last June. It (or a version) arrived for a limited draught run a couple of months ago, and now, I think, it has reached a final form as a rye whiskey aged canned doppelbock: ten months from start to finish, says the label. From the 10.3% ABV of the last iteration it's now a whopping 11.5%. It's a beautiful clear mahogany and smells very boozy: a rich and smooth oaky whiskey quality. On tasting, the spirit is strong: a bourbonish mix of warm vanilla and honey, with added coconut, hazelnut and cocoa. It's all very mellow and relaxing, helped along by the silky texture. The lager side is a bit lost in this, playing no leading role, just supporting all the barrelly special effects, but I appreciate its sacrifice. This is up there with the best of barrel-aged powerhouses, and I'm thinking of De Molen's sublime Bommen & Granaten in particular. "Very limited edition" ends the can blurb. Jump on this quick then.

Just A Minute is a very DOT sort of DOT beer: a blend of pale ale and lager, aged at some point in the production process in bourbon, rum and Irish whiskey barrels, finishing up at 8.6% ABV. I had no idea what to expect. It's a pale and hazy colour, looking a bit like a kellerbier. The carbonation is very low and it was tough getting a head on it. The texture is thick too, making it feel a bit lifeless, overall. There's a kind of vinegar burn in the aroma, or maybe it's just the lime acidity I often get in bourbon. Does it get better in the flavour? Mmmpf. Not really. There's quite a cloying oak-sap sweetness with a thick dollop of orange cordial, and then a watery hollow finish, presumably because there's lager in the mix. This sort of thing works well in saison, where it can bounce off the earthy and spicy flavours in the base. Here it's all about the bells and whistles but the fundamentals aren't strong enough to carry them. I don't mind paying €5.35 for a daring experiment, but having done so I hope this combination is now put on ice.

Brehon scored a brewery-defining hit a couple of years ago with its award-winning Creann Breatha barrel-aged stout, still regularly available bottled and casked. At long last, here comes the follow up: Red Right Hand, a bourbon-aged barley wine. The wine side of the analogy is often left out of the equation but this really has a red wine flavour -- something fruity and Italian, a Barbera, maybe. Add a candy and caramel malt sweetness and just a little sawdusty oak fuzz. I expected the bourbon to add a sticky vanilla layer and/or spirit heat, but it doesn't -- the flavour is subtle, balanced and integrated. The overall classiness is helped by the full texture, aided further by 11% ABV. And a 500ml bottle? Mwah!

Kildare Brewing's Baby Boom has been around a while but I'm only just catching up with it, thanks to the good offices of Martin's of Fairview. It's a milk stout and a middling 4.8% ABV, pouring black but a murky red around the edges and successfully retaining its loose head most of the way down. A pleasant coffee aroma leads on to quite a light textured and surprisingly bitter stout, but in a good way. It lacks the rounded sweetness I associate with milk stout, leaning heavy on the latte aspect instead. Crisp and nutty roast is at the centre, with a tang of green-hop bitterness and a little lactose cream flavour, but as an afterthought. Style purists may have issues with it; I just thought it was a nice stout, despite the lactose rather than because of it.

Brewing lag time being what it is, they're one emergency behind at Wicklow Wolf, the latest being an imperial red ale brewed to aid the Australian Wildlife and Nature Recovery Fund. It's a souped up version of their core amber ale and is called Fighting Wildfire. An innocent clear ruby colour in the glass, it gets to work early on the hop front: the unmistakable coconut aroma of Sorachi Ace wafting up immediately. It doesn't look thick but turns out very full-bodied, in keeping with its 8% ABV. The pithy side of Sorachi comes out here, shading a little unpleasantly towards burnt plastic in the finish. On the plus side, there's lots of toasty roasted grain and a considerable alcohol heat, making it every bit as pugilistic as the name implies. You'd want to like ordinary Wildfire, and/or the Wicklow Wolf Sorachi Reds that came before it, in order to get value out of this. If those beers left you wanting more then your prayers have been answered. Imperial red ales rarely do it for me; add a few fistfuls of Sorachi, however, and I'm on board.

Finally, Cashmere Thoughts, a beer which gave me angora thoughts. This new double IPA from The Format looks fuzzy and fluffy in the glass, a deep opaque orange. Pure fresh-squeezed orange juice is the aroma, all sweet and zesty. There's a hint of that in the flavour, moreso in the finish than up front. The foretaste is a strange mix of sharp dregs, booze heat and chalky minerals. That's not fun and worlds away from the juice. In the middle there's some nice peach but it fails to complete the picture. This is nearly very good, just let down by that hot dregginess. Once again but cleaner, please.

That's it for now. At time of writing, I'm sorry to say, there's no danger of content drying up on here. The shops, my fridge and my notes backlog are all still bounteously stocked.