Meanwhile, down at the pub

The newest trend in Dublin's beer scene is one that's caught me by surprise but is pleasing to see. For the first time, pubs are being acquired by breweries other than the producers who primarily sell via their own outlets. The ball began rolling with Carlow Brewing taking on Brewery Corner in Kilkenny, and Carrig has had The Barrelstore in its native Carrick-on-Shannon for a while, but now Carrig has opened a new location here in the capital.

Bar Rua occupies a grand Tiger-era construction on Clarendon Street: a stack of modest-sized bar rooms mixing quiet corners with open spaces and commanding lovely views of the busy streetscape outside. The selection is varied, including beers from several Irish producers and an international craft selection as well. There's the full Carrig range, of course, and a house beer: Rua IPA.

As befits the name, it's red, and slightly hazy with it. And perhaps unsurprisingly there's a touch of amber ale to the flavour: caramel malt to the fore, contrasting neatly with an assertive citrus bitterness. The body is light, making it an easy-drinking inoffensive offering, as is appropriate for a house beer. While it's refreshing and quaffable, if you want an interesting beer to take time over it'll serve that purpose quite happily as well.

And what makes this a trend rather than an incident is the news that Meath's Brú Brewery will soon be operating Smyth's of Fairview as a tied house. I look forward to seeing how they handle the on-trade. I'm thinking cask, and plenty of it.

Brehon Brewhouse doesn't own a pub as yet but availed of the facilities at 57 The Headline to host a special evening for a special version of its special new beer. Brehon Rising imperial stout (another 1916 beer) was brewed to be mostly sold in 75cl boxed bottles. But, after ageing in whiskey barrels, a few gallons were racked off into an oak cask and that's what was put in the bar a few weeks ago.

The effect was interesting, and unexpected. There was no whiskey character to speak of, and only a small bite of oakiness. The main feature in both the aroma and flavour was sherry. Not the dry white sherry effect of oxidation, but the round, fruity flavour of good Oloroso. There is an Irish coffee warmth to it -- hardly surprising at 10%+ ABV -- and it leaves a sweet brown sugar deposit on the lips. The finish is quick and the texture light, making it a very drinkable sort of monster. It would be very easy to forget it's meant to be a sipper. While enjoyable now, I'd say it's one that will age well in the bottle for a year or two.

That wasn't the only surprise of the evening. There was an unexpected new beer as well: Brehon Pale Ale, an easy-drinking 4.5% ABV golden coloured chap. It shares a jaffa orange character with its big brother Stony Grey: a spicy, oily jasmine perfume kind of vibe, and then a bitterer pith in the finish. The low strength belies a full and almost chewy body, even though it's definitely the hops not the malt to the fore. The bitterness is perhaps a little severe for my taste, but it's a decent, well-balanced and sessionable pint and fills an obvious gap in the Brehon range.

Lastly for this round-up, and with no pub connection other than the fact I drank it in one, Huck, a new saison from O Brother. When Padhraig (one of the titular Brothers) told me that their forthcoming saison was going to be 6.5% ABV I winced a bit. Strong fruity saison rarely does it for me and I much prefer the crisper, lower-strength sort. So I was apprehensive when I got an entire pintful in The Beer Market. And yes, it's big on the esters that can make saisons tough drinking, but there's plenty in this beer's favour that left me smiling at the end. Most of all it's the zest: a biting, witbier-like orangey spritz that helps clean up the worst of the alcohol excess. There's a crunchy dry wheatiness spiced up by a white pepper character which is enough to place it in the saison good books, and a juicy honeydew melon effect which isn't the most difficult of Belgian fruity flavours to deal with. While definitely too heavy to be considered refreshing, it is a rewarding beer to drink and, ABV aside, few hardened saison fans will find much to dislike in it. Huck gets a qualified thumbs-up from me.

Hitting the ground running

Two late-2014 additions to the Irish brewing scene in today's post, both coming out of the traps with a prodigious range of first-run bottled beers.

Co. Monaghan's first brewery (for a while, anyway) opened recently, calling itself Brehon Brewhouse. I was pleasantly surprised to find an early release, their straight-up Irish red, in my local supermarket. Killanny Red Ale is 4.5% ABV and pours a lot darker than one might expect -- almost brown, depending on the light. I'm guessing a generous amount of roasted barley has gone in here as it smells very crisp and grainy, tasting dry to the point of being burnt. Yes there's a little summer berry, but it's a tartness which, combined with the ashen dryness, makes me wonder if something is happening fermentationwise that is not as the brewer intended. I'm not normally the sort to go out of my way to drink Irish red but I'd prefer a bit more fruit and toffee than I'm getting in this.

Keeping to the more timid styles, Brehon Blonde is next, a modest 4.3% ABV. There's an attractive reddish cast to its blondness and the bottle conditioning produces lots of fizz but I poured carefully and a clear glass was my reward. Lots of raisin-rich garibaldi on the nose, though a distinct musty oxidised staleness too. And all of that is there in the flavour too: dry, mouldy sackcloth to begin, a flash of citrus and then more dust and dry rot on the end. A clean, light blonde seems to be a bit beyond the brewing skills of Brehon at this stage.

The range starts to liven up with Stony Grey India Pale Ale. Surprisingly, this is the first beer I can think of named in honour of one of Ireland's many many piss artist poets and is a fitting 6% ABV. A ring of orange rust around the bottleneck was an initial cause for concern but the aroma put me at ease: zesty satsuma and pungent spicy liquorice. There's less punch in the flavour and more of a caramel sweetness, plus a weird savoury meat-like edge. The lightly citric hops arrive late creating an overall sensation of... of... well, of duck à l'orange. This beer tastes of duck à l'orange. That's a first.

Last and darkest and strongest from Brehon is Shanco Dubh, a bruiser of a porter at 7.7% ABV. I came across this at a pre-Christmas tasting hosted by Bord Bia where it was poured by James of the Vanguard Beer Collective. That musty thing is back, but here it works more as a feature than a bug. There's a huge amount of coffee, caramel and dark chocolate behind it and it helps dry them out, while accentuating the roast elements. The end result is highly complex, but balances out on the enjoyable side of odd.

Mullahinsha, Drummeril, Black Shanco-
Wherever I turn I see
In the stony grey soil of Monaghan
Dead loves that were born for me.

Cheery stuff. Let's move on, shall we?

Wicklow Wolf is based in Bray and very soon after opening the doors had five different beers on the market.

Possibly the most intriguing of the range is Locavore Blonde, a 4.8% ABV ale made using only fresh hops from the brewery's own farm. It's at the dark end of the colour scale and while its hop aroma reflects the amount of sunlight and warmth the plants probably got (not much), it's not all golden syrup and cereal: there's a hint of lemons and herbs in there. The lemon element is very pronounced on tasting, even to a puckering extent, with a more serious waxy bitterness behind it and a smattering of spices. Overall this is a pretty decent blonde ale -- it could stand to be smoother, but there's not a thing wrong with it. That it's all done with Irish-grown hops is pretty impressive. Comparisons with the other Irish hop beer, White Gypsy's Emerald, are inevitable but they're very different creatures. Though stronger, Emerald is lighter and zestier, with lots of bittersweet apple in with the lemons. It's refreshing quenching and easy drinking while Locavore is a thinking drinker's blonde. Importantly for the local ingredients movement, both stand on their own as beers, not mere novelties.

In place of a red there's Wicklow Wolf American Amber, discovered on draught at The Norseman last month. Once again I'm out with my colour charts and declaring this more brown than red while also noting a worrying lack of aroma. It's 5% ABV and very thin with it, failing to deliver the rich fruity candy thing that I expect from the style. The hops are all hiding in the flavour, but they present as more of a herbal element, with a powerful bitterness, followed quickly by traditional Irish red notes of crystal malt toffee and dry roast. It's all a bit severe for my taste, especially for a style that should be fun and accessible. I'm not doubting the quality of the hops used, nor their quantity, but this beer just isn't put together the way I like.

On to 57 The Headline to find the next draught one: Wicklow Wolf Kentucky Common. No kvetching about style here as it's the first and only Kentucky Common I've ever met. It's 4.8% ABV and a dark murky brown with red highlights. After a sip I'd place it somewhere on the schwarzbier to brown ale spectrum: it has the gassy dryness and clean lagery finish of the former with the sweeter coffee of the latter. Elements of Bavarian dunkel creep in as it warms: a growing liquorice aroma and a sweet-sour liquorice taste in the finish. It's certainly interesting, but again I found it a little stark and uncompromising for my taste.

The final two I bought in bottled form from DrinkStore. Wicklow Wolf IPA is a hefty beast at 6.3% ABV. Injudicious pouring put an overly large head on my glass, and underneath it a red-amber coloured beer, awash with quite large floaty bits. There's no messing about with the aroma: a big, fresh, lemon-and-lime juice burst, almost enough to make your eyes water. The Simcoe and Cascade combine nicely with the lightly caramelised malt on tasting to create a citric and grassy finish to the flavour profile, but before that reward it's necessary to stand still and let the acrid bitterness slap your palate around a bit. There are some earthy, clangy ferric notes in here as well, but at least the yeast is kept out of the picture. It's intense stuff, the napalm hopping made extra effective by a thick unctuous mouthfeel. Not one for hop lightweights, or those who demand girly tropical fruit flavours or American-style toffee sweetness. Instead, it's a classically no-nonsense grown-up IPA, and I quite enjoyed it for that.

We finish on Black Perle Porter, this one a more modest 4.8% ABV. It looks wholesome as it pours: thick, dark and forming a dense tan head. The nose is full-on espresso, shading towards moccha but the flavour is all cocoa to begin: the bitterness of very dark chocolate and even that faintly powdery feel. The roast comes into play later, turned up to a somewhat charred, black-toast-like degree, but not unpleasantly so. There's no indication on the bottle of where the name comes from, but I'm guessing that Perle hops were involved somewhere along the way, not that there's much of a hop taste in this one. Overall another very good effort, balancing complexity with drinkability rather well.

I guess the lesson from this lot is that dark beers and IPAs are the way to go. Maybe breweries will stop making substandard reds and blondes when people stop buying them. Always drink responsibly.