Smooth moves

Three beers from Dano-Belgian contract brewers To Øl today. To begin, the continuation of a series of soured pale ales, a style of beer I've become very partial to. Sur Citra follows Sur Amarillo which I enjoyed last year. Just like it, this one is a hazy orange colour and the aroma is understated, hinting gently at the citrus and sourness to come. The tartness leads: first sip produces a round juicy acidity, a bit like an oude gueze but without the oak-and-nitre complexity. The Citra adds a little lime zest to this but doesn't compromise the smoothness. This is a light Sunday-jazz sort of sour beer, not a jangling punky noise-bomb. It's easy on the palate and very accessible. Substitute your brunch Bellini for it; serve it to guests arriving at your wedding reception; give it to someone who thinks they don't like sour beer.

The latest in the set is Sur Sorachi Ace which I happened across at the Abbot's Ale House bar in Cork on the way back from the Easter festival. They've messed with the formula a little here, raising the the ABV from 5.5% to 6.5% and introducing Brettanomyces yeast. All of the elements delivered in the flavour are exactly as promised in the dark orange beer. The orange peel zest that is Sorachi's hallmark is the headline, with the askew coconut hit coming in behind. Running counter to this there's a pronounced, but understated, funk from the Brett which manages to integrate into the flavour without stealing focus from the signature hop. Once again, it takes a daring set of contrasting tastes and manages to blend them seamlessly into a very approachable and fun beer. Brett and Sorachi are both sticking-point flavours for some drinkers and this expertly tames the pair of them.

The last beer is one I found on draught in The Black Sheep: Cloud 3, a low-strength witbier. I hadn't sought it out and I honestly wasn't expecting much from it, especially given that comedy ABV of 2.8%. But it really gets your attention with its aroma: bright fresh tropical fruit and a touch of exotic perfume spice. The flavour is simple, though far from bland, all mandarin and mango. It's straight-down-the-line refreshing with no sideshows or unnecessary complexity. And that's not a euphemism for watery thinness: this is properly substantial, with enough fruity-candy consistency to carry the mouth-flooding hop juiciness. Irish microbreweries get a double tax-break at 2.8% ABV and not a single one takes advantage of it. If they were able to turn out something like this I, for one, would be a very happy customer.

Their labels can look a bit scary and pretentious, but this set of To Øl beers offers easy-drinking bouncy fun. Three glasses of hazy happiness.

IPA tarted up

I'll never be one of those trend-chasing fanboy beer geeks, lauding what ever it is the rock stars of the brewing world have decided was a good idea to do to beer that week. But I'm far from being a beer curmudgeon either, insisting that the zymurgist's art achieved perfection in 1860 and any subsequent innovations are retrograde. I'm an à la carte beer fan: I'll try everything and decide if it's any good or not on its own merits and nothing else.

Which brings me to soured pale ales. I'm in favour. I never expected that the tropical fruit flavours of new world hops would blend so well into tangy and lactic sour ale, but they do, and fairly consistently. And there are a lot of dials for the brewer to fiddle with: the sourness, the hoppiness, the density and so on. So I was particularly drawn to To Øl's Sur Amarillo when I saw it on the blackboard at The Beer Market a few months ago. It seems a bit of a powerhouse at 7.5% ABV and not a cheap one either at €6.25 for a 33cl glass. As the name might suggest it's part of a series of single-hopped sour beers from the Danish contractor.

It's a hazy orange colour and smells strange, in a good way: cedar spice and sharp pomegranate. The texture is pleasantly smooth and the carbonation low, making for easy drinking, doubly so with the alcohol well disguised. Flavourwise it's an IPA before anything else. It opens on a lovely juicy note of mandarin laced with bitterer peach skin, then spins out some of that exotic intense spice I found in the aroma. A pinch of tartness finishes it off, but that plays very much a minor role, allowing the hops to take the lead. The sourness is not merely decorative either: it cools what might otherwise be an overly hot and chewy strong ale and allows the true nature of the ingredients be seen. And, in my case anyway, enjoyed.