Are you there, Nelson?

The contemporary beer scene has made me quite sceptical when it comes to the words "West Coast" on a label. So many of them turn out to be hazy in contravention of the laws of decency that I'm buying them almost as much to be cross about them as to enjoy drinking them. So it was a very pleasant surprise to find that Strata x Nelson Sauvin West Coast IPA from Latvian brewery Ārpus was not only clear, but pilsner-pale too, an appearance I associate most with Ballast Point Sculpin from the good old days, though I'm sure plenty of equally attractive IPAs existed on the West Coast around the same time. 

From the aroma I wasn't sure if the Nelson was in tropical-fruit mode, or if it was being drowned out by the peach and mango of the Strata, but either way, it smells nicely tropical, if a little muted for a beer wearing its hops as its name. The mouthfeel is full and thick, more than one might expect for 6.5% ABV, with only a light sparkle of carbonation. Strata's stonefruit is where the flavour begins but it quickly turns bitterer, as befits the style, though the Kiwi hopping means that's expressed as grass and flint rather than grapefruit and pine. There's an invigorating punch to it, balanced well by a golden syrup malt sweetness, a by-product of the heavy texture. For all that, the finish is a bit too quick, with no palate-coating resins. Marks for being proper West Coast, then, though it's not an excellent example. I'm especially disappointed I didn't get the full Nelson Sauvin effect I was after, however. 

Maybe I'd have better luck with TDH Riwaka x Nelson x Citra x Mosaic IPA: four hops, but at least they're triple dry, whatever that means. We're very much back in the haze zone here: pale yellow again, but totally opaque. Surprisingly, this does have more Nelson character than the previous, that beautiful mix of diesel and grapes, conjuring happy memories of the cheapest white wine on the menu. Mwah! There's a certain amount of your typical New England IPA flavours -- vanilla especially -- but nothing off or unpleasant; not so much as a smear of nasty garlic. The hops, triple dry or not, arrive in orderly fashion, with light and summery honeydew melon followed swiftly by a sterner lemon zest which lasts long into the finish. Where was that when we were on the West Coast?

It's all pretty straightforward but highly enjoyable nonetheless. If all hazy IPAs presented their hops so brightly and cleanly, I would be much more on board with the style. Oddly, while the previous one seemed heavy at 6.5% ABV, this is light at the same strength. The world turned upside down. Oh yeah. New Zealand. Right.

Neither delivered the high-octane kerosene or passionfruit cocktail that I had hoped for, but I still had a good time with them. Ārpus knows how to do IPA with balance and cleanliness in a way that I feel I need to call out because it's much rarer than it ought to be.

Tropic of chancer

Time for another round-up of the pale ales of Ireland. Here, randomly, is what's new over the last couple of months.

Hopkins & Hopkins has spread its wings a little, though still strictly local, with a new pale ale which went on cask at The Porterhouse in Temple Bar, the first employment that beer engine has had since Covid. It delights in the pun-tastic name of Sitric and is quite a deep amber colour once it's settled. Though definitely citric, the aroma is English to my mind, smelling of orange peel and marmalade. This intensifies in the flavour, adding fresh and zingy satsuma and a crisp cookie base. After the English oranges fade, there's a much more American lemon and lime bite. And while I'm describing these elements separately, really they're all perfectly integrated into a single harmonious whole: bright, clean and expertly balanced, smoothed out neatly by the gentle carbonation. It's a magnificent work of understated beauty, a superb advertisement for cask beer done with a proper buzzy hop character, and I hope it gets further afield. Though within walking distance from the Smithfield brewery which produces it, of course.

It's been a while since we had a canned special edition from Ballykilcavan, and I think we can blame the new deposit return scheme for that. Here at last is Clancy's Cans #14: Batchelor's [sic] Day IPA, named for having been brewed on 29th February and nothing to do with baked beans. It's described as a "tropical IPA": a light 4.8% ABV and contains top-notch hops Citra and Nelson Sauvin. I was apprehensive when I found it poured an unattractive murky ochre, and prayed that the oxidation fairy hadn't come calling. The aroma assuaged that worry, giving some lovely fresh white grape and general fruit salad notes. The flavour isn't anything quite so clean. There's a distinctly untropical toffee malt taste, and a savoury earthiness from the thick pall of suspended proteins. Not that the hops get buried: there's still the high-octane fuel oil side of Nelson and a certain amount of pithy citrus, but it's not the best use of these varieties I've encountered. I guess if you're looking for something along dark English bitter lines, this would fit that better than it fits new-world IPA. What it's definitely not is tropical.

Wicklow Wolf celebrated its head brewer's 40th (aww!) with Barberhop Quartet, an IPA with Amarillo, Bravo, Galaxy and Strata CGX, the latter of which I believe to be a kind of motor oil. It has WEST COAST IPA in all caps on the label and then pours yellow-orange and hazy. Lads. There's a fun peppery spice in the aroma, which was unexpected, alongside the standard gentle citrus fruit. In the flavour, that spark is still there: a strange mix of cap gun smoke, lemon meringue pie, earth, funk and toast. It doesn't really have any brightness, however: neither zingy grapefruit nor softly slick juice. Everything seems a bit processed; at a remove. The ABV is only 5.5% ABV, so maybe I'm being unfair by expecting fireworks. I would have wanted something brighter and bolder for my 40th birthday, not that I'll be seeing it again.

With Sidechain, Wide Street is offering us two beers in one. It's a West Coast IPA fermented with Brettanomyces, and they say that fresh it shows off the American hop character, while ageing will bring out the Brett complexity. My can was a fresh one. In the glass it's quite a dark murky orange, suggesting an extended ageing in the brewery, perhaps. The aroma is a tangy orangeade and sherbet thing, calm and subtle. It's big bodied, and doubtless the 5.7% ABV has something to do with that, but maybe some of it is the thick gummy character that goes with Brett. Flavourwise there's nothing terribly special: more of that orangeyness and a waxy bitter side, making me think, again, of English hops rather than American ones. There's no deeper complexity and the finish is quick. Fine but unimpressive is the verdict here. I'm sceptical about the idea of ageing it to see what happens, but I may just give that a go: look out for it on the other blog.

A malt-driven pale ale variant next: White Hag's Mullán, an Extra Special Bitter, for once not referencing the Electricity Supply Board, which most Irish beers in this style do. It's Extra Very Special at 6% ABV and is a dark mahogany colour; almost, but not quite, garnet-clear. The aroma suggests treacle, Black Forest gateau and just calories in general. Early summer seems an odd time to put it out. Hops barely feature in the flavour, present in the background and very English, offering a mere tang of flowers and minerals. For the rest, it's rich and sticky dark malt: more treacle, burnt caramel, and a growing cocoa character as it warms. The hops make their biggest contribution to the finish, adding a cleansing bite that balances the sweet malt nicely. I was dubious about that high strength but by the half way mark I understood why they did it that way. There's an extra complexity deriving from it; a bigness and boldness that wouldn't feature with a lesser gravity. While, yes, this would be a classic on cask, in the can they've captured a lot of what I think it would be. Buladh bos, Mullán.

I've reached the stage where the word "tropical" on a beer label gives me the fear. There are lots of beers that do taste of tropical fruit, but somehow the ones which put the word front and centre rarely do -- see Ballykilcavan above, for example. Lough Gill is the latest to try their hand, with Gone Surfing, a hazy IPA created in collaboration with Dutch brewery Baxbier. It's the sunset colour of mango flesh and does smell of a mixed fruit purée, incorporating guava, cantaloupe and tinned peaches. So far, so tropical. It's a little more dry and pointy on tasting, bringing peppercorn spice, oily garlic and peach skin rather than flesh: bitterer than the aroma promised. All of this is heavy and dense, feeling all of its 6% ABV and more. Final assessment: not tropical. This lacks the smooth and cooling effect that the word implies. It's absolutely fine as yet another hazy IPA, but unless they're your favourite thing in the world (which might explain their ubiquity) this doesn't have anything new to offer.

Those dreaded words appear too on the label of Tiki Trail, brewed for Aldi, again by Lough Gill. It's a pale yellow colour, fairly clear, and a sizeable 6.3% ABV. The aroma is quite pithy, reminding me of peach skin and mandarin peel. I suspected I was in for a bit of bitterness and indeed I was. There's an almost smoky savoury element before it reverts to pygmy oranges: satsuma, kumquat and the like. And that's your lot; a rapid finish ensues. It's not a bad beer for a supermarket cheapie, and those familiar with the tall cans of IPA the brewery does for Aldi will find it has a lot in common. It's real middle of the road stuff, the name and concept seeking to lure punters in, but then giving them none of the fruity party fun they might have felt entitled to expect.

Also via Aldi is Nasc, a session IPA of 4% ABV from O Brother. Dammit, I shouldn't have read the label: it does say it's tropical, though also citrus. It's quite hazy in the glass, a pale shade of orange and topped by a handsome stack of white foam. The aroma is certainly more citric than tropical, a sharp kick of lime suggesting that Citra herself might be in the house. They've added oats and got great value from them, giving it a lovely smooth body and greatly enhancing the sessionability by removing any sharp edges. The flavour is quite simple, but enjoyable too: a clean zestiness, of lemon and jaffa orange, delivering just enough bittering to pinch the side of the tongue. There's a certain lighter juiciness as well, but nothing I'd specifically call tropical. At least they didn't put it in huge letters on the front of this one. As a straightforward session IPA in the softly modern style it works well. Am I imagining the existence of IPA tropicality?

Third Barrel seems to be persisting with the terrible can artwork. I don't know what thought process gave rise to the prompt which rendered six-digit zombie brewer Dolly, but I know shite when I see it. One might think that Cup of Ambition should be a coffee beer but it's a hazy juicy IPA of 6.5% ABV. And it's a very good one, a demonstration of why even the most ardent of haze sceptics should give one a go now and again. The brewer says it tastes of wild berries, passionfruit and mango, and it's the last of these I get most: definitely and delightfully tropical. It's all (unspecified) New Zealand hops, but subtly done, adding side notes of tart gooseberry and rich coconut to the fruit. There's a tiny scratch of grit in the texture but mostly smooth and juicy prevails, as it should. I found it delightfully gluggable, and neither the high ABV nor woejus label would put me off opening another.

Is O'Hara's trolling me by calling their new one Sub Tropical IPA? Ahhh, we never said it was tropical. It's a 4% ABV session job, draught only at time of writing, and a lightly hazy golden. I don't think it's sweet enough nor full enough to be properly tropical, but there is fruit. There's a kind of dankly bitter feature in the aroma and at the centre of the taste so it's not lacking in character. A soft citrus -- tangerine and candied lemon peel -- follows. The herbal bitterness is solidly enjoyable and lasts into the finish, longer than might be expected with so light a beer. Overall, it's a jolly, punchy thirst-quencher, arriving at just the right time of year.

Dead Centre does not say Machine Learning is tropical. They do say it's a New England-style IPA, and it's one of the clearer, oranger ones, which is rarely a good sign. And it tastes fantastically tropical. Idaho 7 and Eldorado give it a multicoloured flavour of mango, guava and pineapple. On a different run-through I might bemoan the lack of bittering balance and the indecently quick finish. Not today though. I was happy to welcome the sweet and tangy fruit, as well as the soft base they've set it on. Maybe 5.4% ABV is a little on the high side for something so quaffably undemanding, but I'm not complaining. Dead Centre is a brewpub and is therefore well within its rights to produce this sort of pintable beer. It was a pleasant surprise to see it turning up in Dublin on draught.

There's also a new double IPA -- unapologetically West Coast -- from Galway Bay. It sets out its stall with the name Beyond the Pines. Pale and golden, it smells more dank than piney, with an almost sweaty sort of funk. It is oily, however, with lots of tongue-coating resin. I don't know that I'd call it piney as such: there's a lack of sharpness. The flavour sticks, literally, to the leafy, sticky dankness, adding a softer peach or apricot juiciness. I was never a fan of the more extreme sort of dry and bitter American IPA -- hi Sculpin! -- but now that they're a rarity I have a better appreciation of the novelty. This is one of those, and it doesn't quite sit right with me. I need a bit more citrus or else some balancing crystal malt. By going all-in with the dank they've produced something too cheesey for comfort. Fun for one, but I'm glad I turned down the upselling opportunity to buy a pint of it.

That's all for now. Tropical-watch will no doubt continue indefinitely. Be vigilant!

The epic of Gill

Blimey. Lough Gill is no friend to the slow-paced beer reviewer. While my attention has been elsewhere, their new releases have flourished, eventually claiming a whole wing of my beer fridge to themselves. Nevertheless I knuckled down and have, heroically and at great personal cost, written a review of them all. Here we go then.

We start very normally with Breakers, a pale ale of 4.2% ABV and gluten free. Interestingly, for something that presumably uses a clearing agent to strip out gluten, it's somewhat hazy. Mosaic is among the hops and it's very apparent in the aroma with its bright tropical melon and passionfruit. Strata and Chinook are the others, and I think the juicy mandarin foretaste is a result of the former. From Chinook I normally expect bitterness but there's precious little of that on show here, only a tiny piquancy in the finish. I don't mind, however. Fresh and juicy is how it wants to play things, and it's very successful at it. This doesn't taste in any way compromised and I would quite happily drink a few in a row.

"Keep it pale and slightly hazy but load it with gluten" said someone, presumably. That resulted in Sligo Bay, slightly stronger at 4.6% ABV but looking identical. We're not told the hops, only that they're American. The aroma is similar to the above, though a little more citrus than tropical, and tangerine or satsuma in particular. Very good, though. So it was a surprise to find a flavour that goes nowhere. There's a vague tang of orange peel, fading quickly to leave a mildly unpleasant rubbery residue. It's not badly flawed, but it's not quite right and overall very basic. Hop it like Breakers, please.

Sour ales with fruit in are inevitable. We just have to accept that, and especially with Lough Gill. First up is a mere 4%-er called Pain & Perfection, brewed with mango, passionfruit and guava, alongside lactose. Not too much lactose, mind: for a "pastry sour" this is nicely tart and sharply refreshing. The billed fruits are all discernible, though pushy passionfruit is loudest, as always. There is a smooth pulpy thickness to the texture, but more like you'd get from pure smushed fruit than a milkshake, which is good. Above all, though, that cleansing lightly sour tang absolutely makes this beer. If the aim was to be bright and sunny, complex yet low-strength, then it has achieved it perfectly.

"Gose IPA" is a new designation on me, but that's what Gose Again is: 5% ABV and containing coriander, salt and lemon zest. It does, in fairness, smell like an IPA with a blast of piney American hops -- El Dorado and Idaho 7 says the can, helpfully. The texture is slick and saline, more like a gose, and the salty tang rides right up front in the foretaste. So it's strange that everything is muted thereafter: no coriander and little by way of hopping. There's only a faint sourness too. Instead, it's dry and crisp, like a water biscuit, but similarly lacking in character. All told, this didn't really give me what I want from an IPA or a gose.

The sour ones finish with a hardcore 7.3% ABV offer called Speaks For Itself. I wasn't expecting much actual sourness, given that it includes raspberry, coconut and marshmallow. Marshmallow! Still, it doesn't look thick and gloopy, being pale orange and quickly headless. It smells like a Mikado biscuit, a mix of  jam and and coconut, so the special ingredients are pulling their weight. That's how the flavour goes too: raspberry jam, pink marshmallow and a brush of coconut oil to finish. No sourness, but a clean and neutral base on which the daftness dances without impediment, boosted by a high gravity that makes it extra syrupy as it warms. Props, then, for it being every bit the novelty beer that the description suggests. I found the jangling sweetness quite tough going, however.

On to the IPA section, beginning with a Wrong Turn. The label specifies that it's a "decoction west coast IPA", which is interesting on a very nerdy level. What difference would decoction mashing make to a presumably hop-forward beer? In the glass it's pretty hazy, which is frankly unacceptable when the "west coast" designation is trotted out. The aroma goes very big on west coast pine, with touches of lighter lemon candy around the edges. Simcoe is one of the four hops named, and I suspect it's the busiest of them. The body is surprisingly light for 6.5% ABV, though the hops aren't unbalanced as a result. More citrus and pine is on offer, the lemon turning to grapefruit and the pine to Amsterdam alleyway. But there's a sweet side too, which I'm guessing is the decoction at work, intensifying the malt lending the beer extra balance. It works rather well. Big hops on big malt was the defining feature of the original American IPAs, whose profile now gets called "west coast" so perhaps I'll forgive the haziness this one time.

They were at it again with the subjunctive-dodging If I Was In LA, described as "California IPA" but  distinctly clouded. It smells juicy and tropical too, with a delicious but inappropriate waft of tinned pineapple. On tasting there's a bit more of a resinous bitterness, but not much, and the peachy-mangoey tropical side is still in charge. Citra and Mosaic are the hops, and I get a slight buzz of onion as it warms, for which I blame the latter. Otherwise it's all enjoyable in its own way, even if it's a long long way from Sculpin or Torpedo. It is a little on the thin side, despite the murk, and definitely doesn't taste the full 6.8% ABV.  

Last year the brewery brought out a quartet of imperial oatmeal stouts, of which I could only track down three. I was delighted to see them back for 2022, meaning I could finally get my hands on Shield, the one I missed. It's a whopping 12% ABV and brewed with coffee, so I was expecting an Irish coffee effect but doesn't really have that. The texture is quite light, not creamy, and the spirit/barrel side is understated, arriving as a late waft of vapour but without any real contribution to the taste. That does leave plenty of coffee, so maybe an espresso martini is a better cocktail analogy. Whether it's the grains or the coffee that's providing the roast dryness I can't say -- perhaps it's both -- but there's plenty of it. This is nice; easy going; nothing to scare the horses. Let it be noted without comment that it was 14% ABV last year. Regardless, I'm hoping for something louder from the next ones.

There are three new Celtic-themed barrel-aged stouts in the series for 2022, and I immediately detect further signs of cold feet around ABV as two are a trifling 10% ABV. We'll begin with one such: Ogham, a bourbon barrel milk stout with cocoa nibs. The barrel absolutely plays the advantage here, piling sticky vanilla into the flavour, leveraging the milky chocolate to produce something sickly sweet beyond the bounds of decency. The stout loses out in this, with no roast and negative quantities of bitterness. A cola dryness is the only faint saving grace, but I could still feel it curdling in my stomach. This is too big and too sweet. Perhaps a point or three more on the ABV might have rescued it.

As they say at Lough Gill: Onward! The other 10%-er is Life, again a bourbon barrel milk stout and again with cocoa nibs. But here they've added actual vanilla as well. After the last one I am apprehensive to say the least. It doesn't smell horrifically sweet, so that's a plus, the chocolate coming across as quite dark. It's milkier to taste, for sure, but nowhere near as sickly as the previous. The flavour is all rather well balanced and integrated, and I think the key is in the bourbon -- it's much less loud and pervasive here, allowing the stout to stay a stout despite the add-ons. There's maybe a little too much milkshake for serious stout drinkers, but they should lighten up anyway. Life is fun.

My third of the new ones, perhaps appropriately, is Trinity. I didn't even look at what it's made with before taking the first sip. I couldn't detect any novelty here, just the basic good imperial stout formula of fresh black coffee, dark chocolate and a shot of plain whiskey. In fact there's no addition, it's a straight oatmeal stout at 12% ABV aged in bourbon barrels. They're well-behaved bourbon barrels again too, giving up their warmth but not the yucky cloying vanillins. There's even a faint fruit complexity, in the finish -- damson or raisin. Overall, it's a classy sipper and tough to fault.

Unless there's been a late add, and I wouldn't put it past them, that's all from Lough Gill from this year. There's some impressive stuff in the above, showing a brewery that's good at what it does in several different ways at once.

States of mind

It's off to the USA but without leaving Derbyshire today, courtesy of Thornbridge.

Starting on the west coast, Frisco is a California common, a market largely cornered by Anchor Steam but which I guess brewers liking making as a technical exercise. I certainly can't imagine other ones being popular with the drinking public, beyond tickers like me. This looks lovely in the glass, though the clear golden hue immediately put me in mind of bitingly citric IPA, even though I knew that's not the offer. That said, there's a beautiful floral aroma telling me that hops will feature, and it's there in the flavour too: rose petals and lavender with a dusting of lemon sherbet on the end. That's pleasant, in quite a different way to Anchor Steam, but I think this one is a little lacking on the malt front. It tastes much lighter than I'd expect for 5% ABV. It's probably better to think of it as a clean, simple and fizzy American-style pale ale, and I enjoyed it on those terms.

If California common is rare, Kentucky common is rarer still. The only one I've encountered is the much-missed one that Wicklow Wolf created in their early days. While that was dark, The Colonel is amber-coloured and I can't be bothered finding out which is more authentic. This one has a lot more malt character than the above, from the sweet biscuit aroma to the Veda and fruitcake flavour. The hop varieties are old-school American ones, but guessing blind I'd have said they were Germanic: there's a noble green quality to the bitterness here. It took me a while to figure this one out: it's not brash or any way distinctive, but there's a gentle elegance to it, the chewy malt balanced by both that grassy bite and a dry grain-husk side. There's enough tannin for me to suggest that English bitter is its nearest taste-a-like, though it could be mistaken for a Vienna lager also. The ABV is again 5%, but here it's much more apparent, resulting in a classy and satisfying sipping beer.

Given the on-the-nose naming at work, Dancing Horses ought to be a Vienna lager, but it's actually a California-style IPA, brewed in collaboration with Track of Manchester. Californians wouldn't normally brew their IPA at only 5.5% ABV, but that's what they've done. It does at least look like Sculpin, with the classic bright golden body topped by a healthy layer of fine white froth. Grapefruit aroma? Check. It's a delightfully dry number, with the malt serving only to give the hops a base. The hopping isn't harsh, but packs just the right amount of wallop to be enjoyable, mixing sharp citrus with piney resin and crunchy cabbage leaf. The label promises pineapple, melon and passionfruit, but I get none of that: it's pine and grapefruit all the way, and frankly that's perfect. I might like a point or two of extra strength, but otherwise this walks the walk along Venice Beach and over the Golden Gate Bridge (I've never been to California). Collaboration brews have a tendency to be way-out and wacky, whereas this has all the understated quality of a core beer.

That was a bit of fun: two unusual styles and one classic, all done with the standard Thornbridge attention to detail and quality. We're in a very different beer world to the one in which they started in 2005, but they've still definitely got it.

Some IPAs

I'm trying really hard to avoid doing big round-up posts at the moment. They're almost as much of a slog to write as they are to read. Please excuse today's thin end of that particular wedge: four recent releases from Irish breweries in the up-and-coming speciality style called India pale ale.

It's a good job that "double dry hopped" doesn't actually mean anything, or I'd be worried about Larkin's giving the treatment to a beer that's only 4% ABV. Their new session IPA is called Revolver and is a hazy middling orange-yellow. Centennial, Citra and Idaho 7 represents a kind of cross-section of the cool hops of the last 15 years or so. It smells of orange concentrate first, with a heavier herbal dank behind -- pleasingly assertive. There's none of the thinness I feared, and no unbalanced hop sharpness. It's rounded and with plenty of malt sweetness to buoy up the fruity side of the hops. I fully expected oats to be listed as an ingredient, but it achieves this with barley alone. That fruit side is tropical, juicy, and a little spicy too: a sprinkling of cinnamon on your slice of roasted pineapple. Where the low strength helps out is in the quick finish, no cloying sugar or syrup. "Session IPA" is a bit of a hackneyed term, but this really does have the depth and complexity of a proper IPA with a wonderful easy-going drinkability. I'm not sure if this is going to be permanent but it would make for a very worthy flagship.

It's almost a year since the last edition of the O'Hara's single hop IPA series. And now here's Hop Adventure: Strata, the eighth variety by my count. It's the by-now standard medium hazy golden colour and 5% ABV. The aroma is strongly weedy: not your typical dankness, but the piquant peppery spice of an Amsterdam coffeeshop doorway on a cold winter's day. The flavour is soft and sweet with notes of vanilla pod, frangipane and apple pie. A tannic dryness completes the tea-and-a-pastry picture. It's not at all what I'd expect from something presenting as an American-style IPA, but it's absolutely gorgeous. That's two IPAs in a row I would happily quaff serially. But this blog isn't about making me happy. Moving on...

I've been a fan of all the core range from Heaney Farmhouse Brewery. The Blond, Red and Stout have been very well-made and to-style examples of balanced loveliness. So I was attracted to what appeared to be a new one, simply badged India Pale Ale, even though it was packaged in a 440ml can instead of the usual half-litre bottle. The wording "A classic West Coast IPA" attracted me further, though at only 5.5% ABV I had to wonder how "classic" it could be. In the glass it's slightly hazy, but not excessively so, and a lovely sunset amber colour. The aroma is sweet; old skool crystal malt getting straight to work. The texture is light, as befits the ABV, and the flavour is also a bit of a shrinking violet. I think they're going for something closer to Sierra Nevada Pale Ale than Sculpin. There's a very old-world taste of flowers and vegetables from the hops, with no more than a lacing of citrus. It's not unpleasant but I was hoping for more of a kick. This offers the same simple understated enjoyment as the rest of the core; the wording they chose for the can is the only part I could possibly object to.

Finally for today, Galway Bay Brewery has been revisiting the log books and resurrected a short-lived IPA from 2013. The original Voyager NZ was 6% ABV and brewed with Pacifica and Pacific Jade. This one is half a percent stronger and uses Kiwi classics Nelson Sauvin and Motueka, so they didn't look too closely at the previous recipe. It's a thoroughly modern eggy yellow with the poor head retention that seems par for the course in this degenerate age. Nelson's gooseberries-dipped-in-diesel is apparent from the aroma. The flavour is gentler, however. It's rounded and soft fruit for the most part: peach, lychee, a little pineapple; and then a sharper tart bitterness arrives in the finish, bringing Motueka's dry grass and aniseed. That makes for quite a contrast between fore- and aftertaste, but it's a best of both worlds situation. I love the luscious tropical fleshiness, and the harder hop kick. Amazing that it was all done with only two hops. Not too hot for the strength and with no dreggy murky yuck, this is a superb example of the art of IPA.

Plenty of variety in this set, whatever your IPA predilections may be. There's a sub-style for everyone.

Streaming service

A new pair from new Dublin brewer Lineman today, with some stylish new can branding.

I began with Torrent, a straight-up, no nonsense, no gimmicks porter of 5.2% ABV. Given the success of the brewery's Astral Grains stout, I had high hopes. Chocolate is the main feature here, sweet and creamy, in both the aroma and foretaste. After this there's a nutty bite, some coconut sweetness and a jolt of espresso on the end. That's enough, I think. Nothing complicated or weird; a good balance between the sweet and bitter sides. Pretty much everything you should want from a porter. Any chance of a cask?

The companion piece is a similarly straight-up, no-foolin', west coast IPA called Zephyr. It really does channel San Diego classics like Sculpin right from the beginning. It's a pale golden shade and smells sharply of grapefruit pith and peel. That squeaky dry citrus is front and centre in the flavour throughout, with just enough malt roundness to propel the hops on their way. It's 6% ABV but could pass for a degree or so more, with plenty of substance and even a little heat. Time was, I would have found something like this unpleasantly bitter and hard to take. Now it's a welcome change from the more recent trend for soft and sweet IPAs. This one tastes finished.

Could Lineman be our saviour from the stylistic silliness that continues to infect beer in Ireland and beyond? Recent releases suggest it just might be.

A load of ballasts

With much fanfare, a range of beers from San Diego's iconic Ballast Point brewery landed in Ireland recently, brought by importer FourCorners. I first encountered them at the official launch event in UnderDog.

My starting point here was Sour Wench, a sour beer with added blackberries. It's a big-hitter at 7% ABV, and is a full-on dense-looking shade of purple. The flavour is extremely jam-like: excessively sweet and missing any real sourness. Mercifully it doesn't cloy, and the finish is neatly clean, but I couldn't shake a feeling that I was drinking the topping from a cheap supermarket cheesecake. I prefer my wenches with more class than this.

Sculpin I've had in the past, and didn't particularly enjoy, and the same went for Grapefruit Sculpin when that came my way a couple of years ago. I still gave Unfiltered Sculpin a go while it was there, and was glad I did. This just seems better balanced than the others; its flavours more integrated and harmonious. A bright jaffa aroma starts it off, and the flavour blends sweet sherbet and orangeade with a stimulating kick of bitter hops. It's altogether smoother and more drinkable than the filtered one. Sculpin as it should be.

I picked up others in the range for drinking at home. Both cans and bottles are available.

Mango Even Keel is a rare beast indeed: an imported American IPA with an ABV under 4%. It's only 3.8% but doesn't look at all understated, being a handsome rich copper colour. It smells quite sugary, like sweet candy or... syrup, which I guess it actually contains. The flavour is powerfully sweet, an overwhelming blast of perfumed candy, lurid artificial treats from the impulse section of the corner shop. Whatever the opposite of wholesome is, it's that. The fake-fruit and perfume effect clings to the back of the tongue and sits there, unwelcome, long after swallowing. There's still a hollow dry fizz behind it, probably where the balancing malt ought to be. I refuse to believe any grown adult actually wants their beer to taste like this. I expected mango, I expected juicy, and I expected some hops. What I got was an off-brand pop from Uzbekistan's cheapest discount supermarket.

I needed something straighter to fix my palate after that, and relied on Fathom IPA to do the job. It looks pretty straightforward, being 6% ABV and unembellished. It's a perfect red-gold colour too, though I didn't get much of an aroma from it, just a mild dankness.The flavour is... understated. There's a pleasant sticky and bitter resin thing, and a dusting of light citrus: jaffa and mandarin. Though the body is as big as the ABV suggests, the finish is quick. While undoubtedly plain, it's good quality and well suited to drinking more than one.

Last of this takehome set is Victory at Sea, described as an imperial porter with added coffee and vanilla, about which I was intensely sceptical. It looked nice, though, pouring a smooth and flawless black topped by loose ivory bubbles. As anticipated it's intensely sweet, with an aroma of ersatz milk chocolate and a flavour adding gooey sugary fondant to that. Cadbury's Creme Egg as a beer? Pretty much. There is something resembling a bitter tang in the finish, but it's artificial and metallic, not tasting like it comes from hops or dark grains. There may well be a decent beer underneath the syrupy gloop, but they've buried it deep.

It's hard to believe they thought this unbeery mess needed further "enhancement", but back in UnderDog there was a hacked version: Coconut Victory at Sea. The hacking is done pretty crudely and it tastes and smells like a generous dollop of coconut sun lotion has been dumped into the glass. It does at least cover up the problems with the above beer, but it does so by adding its own brand of artificial syrupyness, and though the coconut mellows as it goes (or maybe I just got used to it) I really don't see the point of this.

Switching pubs, finally, for the double IPA Manta Ray which P. Mac's had on tap. Far from cheap at €9 for 33cl. And for all that it's rather plain: clear gold in the glass, thick and resinous but with no more than a light zest for flavour. It's fine: understated double IPAs are probably better than the ones that come on too strong, but it left me feeling that I got a very poor return on my investment, tastewise.

I went into this as a Ballast Point doubter, and have come out with that confirmed. Unfiltered Sculpin is a rare highlight, but the rest taste either sticky and fake, or just plain dull.

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 De-Railed, 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.