The Christmas menu

I hadn't noticed before that Wetherspoon publishes a quarterly leaflet of its upcoming seasonal rotational beers. Maybe it's a new practice, but it's great for us tickers. In the run-up to Christmas, I did some hunting around the Dublin branches for the late 2025 offerings.

That started with the appropriate Winter Draws On, by Brewsters. It's only 4% ABV and promises citrus and spice, so is one of those English winter ales. Still, it looks cosy with its warm copper glow. The citrus manifests as dried peel, like fruitcake mix without any of the actual cake. Complementing the lightly fruity bitterness is a tea-like dryness, adding a refreshment quality that isn't very seasonal but is very pleasant. This is a clean, characterful and well-balanced session beer, exactly the sort of thing that I associate with Brewsters. Your cockles won't be warmed but your thirst will be slaked.

A rare visit to The South Strand brought me Evil Elf by Rudgate. I would be quite willing to bet that this golden ale appears under a different name during the summer, because it has a very sunny disposition. Zesty, and slightly oily, lemon forms the aroma and continues in the foretaste. It's not bitter, however, tasting more like lemon candy than actual citrus fruit. The sweet side grows gradually, adding notes of honey and golden syrup. It verges on sticky but its modest 4% ABV keeps it on the right side of drinkable. This is solidly made and devoid of seasonal daftness. There's no way any sensible brewery would only roll out such a straightforwardly enjoyable recipe at Christmas.

Advent Ale is from Titanic, the brewery abandoning its sinking ship theme for the season of goodwill. This 4.6%-er is a medium gold in the glass and smells sweetly spicy, hinting at clove and nutmeg. Those spicy oils are present in the flavour but pleasingly low-balled, hinting at their presence but not the beer's whole thing. Unfortunately, the beer doesn't have a whole thing, its base tasting to me like a rather plain blonde ale: honey-sweet, gently floral, but otherwise nondescript. I guess Christmas beer doesn't have to be dark and strong, though at the same time I don't really get the point of doing them pale and light, except there's presumably a market for them. File this inoffensive chap with the other cod-seasonals, made for spring rugby and... actually, is that the only other time English breweries make lacklustre tie-in beers? Answers in the comments.

So far, so sessionable, but where are those big winter warmers? Otter's Otter Claus brings us all the way up to 5% ABV and is a wholesome-looking dark amber colour. Alas, it doesn't go anywhere special in the flavour, being the same as any number of malt forward, medium-dark, strong bitters. To wit, there's toffee, black tea, burnt caramel and a token measure of orange peel and meadow flowers from distinctly English hops. It reminds me a bit of Wetherspoon staple Abbot Ale but is much more enjoyable; lighter on the caramel and more drinkable as a result. It left me feeling a bit stiffed on Christmas vibes, but it's a decent beer. While it may be a brown bitter, I don't think it can be accused of being twiggy or boring. For €2.60 the pint, I have little to complain about here.

It's not all red suits and reindeer in the seasonal offerings. I also had my second encounter with the Bateman's sub-brand Salem, and their Dark Fruits porter. It's actually surprising that more cask breweries aren't taking a pop at Titanic's Plum Porter market share. I didn't get to try them side by side, but I deem this a worthy adversary. The berries are very prominent in the flavour, a jammy damson and cherry effect with just the right amount of restraint on the sweet side and a mild blackcurrant tartness. In proper Titanic style, the base is velvety smooth with oodles of creamy milk chocolate. The depth and roundness of its texture is especially impressive, given it's only 4.6% ABV. Mouthfeel for days. My one pint wasn't long being sunk, and while I'm not sure that a second would have been as enjoyable, in other circumstances I would have been quite prepared to try it. Quality stuff, this, and I say that as a fruit porter sceptic.

Ramping up the strength and the blackness, next is Hammerhead Stout by Nottinghamshire brewery Milestone. This is a very full 5.6% ABV and promises "a bite" on the clip. It arrived looking handsome: fully black with a thick pillow of foam and a dome of loose bubbles over the top. It's exactly the appearance Draught Guinness was invented to reproduce but never will. The aroma, however, is in the Guinness zone, being rather vague, just toasted grain and a mild metallic bittering. From that, the flavour was a surprise, opening up a ribbon-wrapped box of milk chocolates, adding a light smattering of latte coffee, butterscotch and vanilla, with a subtle dry charcoal note on the end for balance. I was impressed by the contrast between aroma and flavour: it smells almost acrid but is smooth and sumptuous to drink. While not exactly complex, it's perfectly balanced and wonderfully drinkable. In a less festive mood I might be inclined to complain that the ABV is excessive, but I'm willing to let that go because I'm sure the heft is a major part of its classy, understated gameplan. For me, this hit the same spots as Irish stout classics Leann Folláin and Nocturne, with bonus cask silk. At time of drinking I had recently finished reading Martyn Cornell's epic history of porter, and this beer fitted the hyperbolic descriptions that 18th and 19th century writers used when describing good product. I hope this isn't just a Christmas beer. It belongs on the bar year-round.

In summary, I think the breweries could have done better here. Light and pale just doesn't do it for me at midwinter. I was very glad to find at least some level of darkness in the selection. It would have been a wash-out without them.

A right plum

I guess it's the success of Titanic Plum Porter that led Aldi GB to commission a version of their own: Harper's Plum Porter at roughly the same strength of 4.8% ABV. I'm used to the Titanic one smooth on cask, whereas this has a prickly carbonation. The aroma is dry and minerally while the flavour goes porter first -- chocolate, toast, hazelnuts -- with just a vague jammy fruit sweetness to speak for the plums.

It meets the basic requirements, although all that fizz is a major lack of chill. I thought it might have smoothed out as it warmed and flattened but it doesn't really. This sort of beer really needs to be smooth, and cask dispense is unfortunately beyond Aldi's remit.

As a home substitute for pub plum porter this doesn't really work, but at least it's inoffensive and, doubtless, cheap.

Cheap ticks

The Three Tun Tavern in Blackrock really pulled it out of the bag for the most recent JD Wetherspoon Real Ale Festival. Eleven beers, almost the full compliment of handpumps, were pouring when I called in on a quiet Sunday afternoon, the first of the festival. I had cycled there with my fingers metaphorically crossed for Pacific, brewed by Melbourne's Thunder Road at Adnams. And sure enough, there it was. It's a pale gold colour and the flavour is a complex mix of sweet orange candy and exotic jasmine perfume. The texture is all light and fluffy sherbet and it was just the fruity refresher I was looking for at the end of my half-hour bike ride. It does run the risk of getting overly sweet as it warms, but that was not going to happen.

It was on to the thirds after that. Titanic Plum Porter is even plummy in colour, a purpleish tint to its dark brown. The two elements fight it out for dominance in the flavour: a jammy plum sweetness and a bitter dark chocolate malt. The jam wins, with the malt having to content itself with being just a flourish in the finish. I don't normally have a problem with sweet fruit beers but I think I might struggle through  a pint of this.

Next to it, Bravo Four Point by Devils Backbone. The branding and presentation say pale, hop-forward: all great, and brewed at... oh. Caledonian. Usually the booby prize at the Wetherspoon festivals. And so it is here: an acrid, fusty burlap taste on a heavy body, managing to be chokingly dry and cloyingly sweet at the same time. And just when you think it can't get any worse, there's a horrible bathsoap twang on the finish. "Hoppy with citrus notes" says the pumpclip. It lies, reader. It. Lies.

I promised you last summer that I'd try the second beer in the Robinson's Iron Maiden series if and when I saw it. And here it was: Trooper 666, a dark gold strong ale at 6.6% ABV. It's rather dull. There's kind of an appley buzz, a sort of damp woody autumnal log pile thing. Not unpleasant, but not especially interesting either. I suppose if you just want something to get you to Stagger Town in short order, the smooth bland stylings of this one will do the job, especially at €2.50 a pint.

I was smiled upon by the bar gods, if not the road safety ones, for round two, when I ordered three more thirds but got given three halves. First up, Acorn Barnsley Bitter: nice brown booze. There's a lot of caramel in this, pretty much at Irish red sweetness levels. The hop contribution is limited to a tiny tinny metallic tang on the end and the only other complexity is a fun and farty sulphurous aroma. I'm sure it's doing everything it's supposed to, but it's just too sugary for my liking.

A totally random pick next: the enigmatic-sounding Bruges best bitter by Hydes, part of its Provenance series of geographically-inspired beers. This is gold coloured and at first tasted like one of the musty Caledonian beers, but there's something else going on too. Described as "spicy" on the badge it's a weird sort of incense or aftershave note. Where must meets musk. That little bit of interest aside, it's not much of a beer: thin and one-dimensional, and another bitter that isn't bitter but sweet. Bah!

Last of this set was one of the more intriguing options. Yes it's from the Marstons hit-and-miss Revisionist range, but Irish Peated Ale? Wut? "Sumptuous smoke entwines with roast malts and caramel tones." Entwines! What this really is is a half-pint of bog water. Massively peaty, yes, but with nothing backing it up. The body is thin and the dark malt that gives it its garnet colour has very little to say for itself. This is a novelty beer, but only just. I hope the brewer enjoyed the result of the experiment because I doubt many drinkers will.

And on that bitchy note, off to Dún Laoghaire, more out of force of habit than anything else. The Forty Foot was buzzing, the kitchen was backed up and the tiny range of festival beers restored my faith in the general haplessness of Irish Wetherspoons. Everards Yakima was pouring, however, so I cleared some dirty glasses from a spare table and sat down to try it. It's OK: a warming and toasty red ale with a little bit of hoppy resin but not really enough. It ends up tasting like a watery shop-brand floor cleaner, inoffensive but not really getting the job done. The raspberry ruffle fudge thing is the reason I normally give hoppy reds the swerve. This one confirms my prejudice.

The festival finishes up this Sunday though you may still find some of the special beers on for a while afterwards. I expect all the Pacific will be gone, though, if the regulars have any sense.