Round Ireland with a thirst, part 3: Galway

Once a year, presumably for some dodgy tax write-off reasons or bizarre sexual kink, the Galway Bay Brewery fills a coach with its Dublin customers, drives them to Galway and, against all reason, brings them back again. I went in 2014, when the brewery was still out the back of The Oslo in Salthill, and signed up again this year to see how things had developed at the new site in Ballybrit.

Quite extensively, it turns out. A super-shiny new Italian-built brewhouse and tanks has just been commissioned and the aim is to turn out 12,000hL in 2016, bringing them into the big leagues of Irish microbrewing. It was easy to see how the rapid-fire one-offs from Galway Bay come in such quick succession.

New for the day was Goin' Out West, a double IPA by new head brewer Will Avery. It uses a super-simple (and sustainable) hop combination of Columbus and Chinook but makes very good use of them, giving lots of fresh mandarin: sweet candy in the middle and a more acidic tang on the end. It's quite dry but there's a definite warmth, fitting its 7.8% ABV. Best of all the bitterness is low allowing the hop fruit to come through -- exactly like its equally-clean stablemate Of Foam & Fury. It's always nice to meet a double IPA that isn't trying too hard to impress, but does anyway.

After considerable hospitality of the barbecued sort, and a sneaky taste of some new specials (thanks Tom!) we made for The Salt House and instantly destroyed the enjoyably quiet afternoon a handful of punters were having in there. For me it was a rare opportunity to grab something from Soulwater, who've been busy since I first met them in February. On cask there was Cosmic Cow, their milk stout, this version (allegedly) with extra almond. I can't say I found any almond flavour ('cos there wasn't any: see comment), nor much distinctive lactose for that matter. Instead it's a basic but decent cask stout, creamy and smooth, mostly quite sweet with just a very slight roasted edge on it. Easy drinking too, which is just as well as we were back on the bus in short order and off out to The Oslo.

The main draw here was the Micil poitín distillery which has been set up where the brewery used to be. Decent stuff, too: an all-malt wash, flavoured with bogbean. Cheers to Pádraic for showing us around. The final new beer of the day was Super Smash Bros, a Citra-hopped, 5.3% ABV IPA, brewed by one of The Oslo's staff on the Galway Bay pilot kit. It's pale yellow and unattractively murky but oooh that aroma, all pineapple flesh and mandarin pith. Janice, beside me, said it smelled of kiwi and insisted I write that down so here it is. The fresh fruit continues right into the flavour, intensifying as it goes, to become a heavy dankness by the end of the pint. And there's a touch of savoury yeast, but not nearly as much as the opaqueness might suggest. All-in-all surprisingly complex for a SMASH, and worth scaling up if there's enough Citra left.

After that it was just a question of loading up with bus beers and making for The Brew Dock and a late-night pint of Via Maris.

Cheers to Andy, Jenna and all at Galway Bay for the grand day out. There'll be more on here from this brewery soon, without doubt.

Taste this

I mentioned in Monday's post how microbreweries don't seem to take their own stands at Taste of Dublin any more. It is, I'm sure, a very expensive event to attend, and while you're likely to reach a crowd of punters who are probably not already familiar with your product, I would question how much repeat trade you're likely to get out of them once the tents are folded and the Iveagh Gardens returned to the citizenry.

Across the park from Diageo's Open Gate Brewery, Alltech had a similar landmark bar for its Station Works and Lexington breweries. From the former there were two new beers, including the latest in the Foxes Rock range, Foxes Rock India Pale Lager. Now, I will admit at the outset that I don't really get this style. There's enough of a hoppy buzz in any properly made pilsner so why go chasing after the IPA crowd with this neither-fish-nor-fowl type of beer? Oh yeah: money. OK then. Would any brewer care to admit to brewing an IPL for the sheer love of it?

Abstract witterings aside, real life FRIPL is 5.2% ABV and a highly attractive deep gold colour. It definitely misses its step on the lager front: the body is too heavy, with very ale-like esters and no crisp lager cleanness. And nor is the flavour a good example of IPA: it's floral-sweet and intensely sharp, like the taste of perfume, and that lasts long into the finish as a cloying, abrasive bitterness. It seems like a beer that doesn't quite know what it's supposed to be but it definitely isn't fun to drink.

The other new Station Works beer is brimming with fun, however. It's brewed, I believe, for the Cremin & Radley distribution company and is marketed under the new Bartleys brand. No prizes for guessing what fruit juice has been added to Strawbeeri, and especially not if you've tasted it. It's very strawberry, and extremely sweet. A soft texture adds to the jammy effect and it reminds me a lot of that Belgian classic Früli. Subtle as a brick through the greenhouse window but it hit my sweet tooth just right.

Molson Coors had also staked out a claim for Franciscan Well where I had just a swift pint of their Summer Saison. This is a modest 5% ABV with an invigorating pear-skin edge and an almost velvety smoothness. Very easy drinking and great for a mid-point palate refresh.

On then to the Dunbrody House complex in the corner of the park. Here the hotel had set up a mini lecture area for Chef Dundon to talk barbecue, the restaurant had the standard three-dish offering that all the other Taste participants had, and down one side Dunbrody's on-site brewery, Arthurstown, was pouring a mix of regulars and specials. Arthurstown American IPA was apparently served at Killarney this year but I missed it. It's a 6% ABV bruiser, quite a hazy pale amber and apparently only uses a little bit of Sorachi Ace, which surprised me because it tastes and smells almost one-dimensionally coconutty to me. Light and clean with it, however, and other people I thrust it at found it dank and complex so it must just be me who got hit with the coconuts. De gustibus non est disputandum. Either way, I enjoyed it, and especially the lightness of touch it showed on quite a big ABV.

The remains of the afternoon played out at the Premier International Beer Heaven stand, a fixture of Taste quite possibly since year one. From a distance I had been wondering which new American brewery was responsible for the distinctive paddle-like tap handles but closer inspection revealed it to be Bavaria's own Maisel, going full yank with its craftish range. Among them: Maisel Pale Ale, simple and fun with the clean bitterness of a real American pale ale but wearing more of a German costume up front in the form of a green celery hop bite; Maisel India Ale raises the ABV from 5.2% to 6.3% but hits pretty much the same flavour points, except more of them. The strength is well hidden, however. And best of the lot was Maisel Choco Porter, a lovely balancing act of sweet milky chocolate and dry roasted malt, rich and full while staying clean and drinkable, and all done without the addition of any non-Reinheitsgebot additives. Impressive, but also lovely to just knock back. Except it's 6.5% ABV.

And because we weren't wobbly enough already, Dean broke out the good stuff before we left, starting with a bomber of Widmer Brothers Brrrbon '12. This 9.4%-er is a mucky orange colour and smells of vanilla and lime, meaning the brewery definitely got its money's worth out of that bourbon barrel. It's smooth at first but a growing sweetness makes it more and more difficult to drink as it goes along. I found myself struggling desperately to appreciate its intensity before realising that I just actually don't like it.

It was followed by Widmer Brothers Raspberry Russian Imperial Stout '12 which was much better. Here the 9.3% ABV is better hidden and the raspberry is used to full effect, in both the aroma and the flavour. You get lots of chocolate and lots of tart juicy fruit in both, while the base beer is dry and remarkably light. The hopping is generous too and this does fight a little with the raspberry acidity but the overall picture holds together coherently: bold, but not overdone.

And speaking of overdone, that's the bit where I nabbed a last glass of Open Gate 1516 pils before the shutters came down there and stumbled out into town and around the corner for a comedown pint of Via Maris at Against the Grain.

Lots and lots of beer is definitely my preferred methodology for tackling a food festival.

Rapid fire

The special edition beers are fairly flying out of Carlow Brewing these days. They have two one-off series running in tandem and a moment of near-synchronicity between them meant that I got the latest from each in a single box, courtesy of the brewery, on Friday afternoon.

From the 20th anniversary series comes 'OPsession, a 4% ABV session IPA. In recent months this has become one of my favourite beer styles, with White Hag's Little Fawn leading the field. I'm always on the lookout for a beer that can better it. 

The first surprise here was the colour: expecting pale and yellowy, I found it the copper shade of a vintage French cider. And almost as tannic too: the first sip delivers a strong astringency that won't really let much else past. It even smells like heavy black tea. What's not present in any of this are the hops. The label mentions citrus but I can't imagine the copy was composed after the beer came out of the brewery filter because there is no citrus character of which to speak here. There is a certain level of bitterness in the finish, but again it's that tannic astringent sort, rather than anything bringing hops to mind. If feeling charitable I might describe this as a decent example of dry English bitter, albeit in a fizzier-than-usual form. But those of us who have become accustomed to Little Fawn, Via Maris, Rollover and the like will not find anything recognisable in this session IPA, sadly.

The other series is O'Hara's Hop Adventure and the latest addition is Aramis, a relatively high-alpha French hop of Alsatian and English pedigree. The beer spec is the same as its predecessors -- a 5% ABV pale gold IPA -- but once again the hop adds something very distinctive to the drinking experience. My first thought on tasting was creamy and I couldn't think why. Most likely it's a noble hop characteristic, that it reminds me of first-rate Bavarian pils, which are all about that soft creamy taste. The label mentions spices and I get a certain amount of that too: the cedar and nutmeg you find in Belgian tripels and their ilk. I also get a sort of weissbier-like banana effect, strange in an IPA but not off-putting or unpleasant, and definitely part of the hop's business rather than something up in the fermentation: the underlying beer is perfectly crisp and clean.

This is a subtle and interesting one. You can roll the flavours around and find different things with each sip -- coconut? chilli? blackcurrant? melon? -- but if you want to drink it down as an easy-going pale ale there's nothing in the profile loud enough to prevent you from doing so. Certainly, the mission of the series to show off the variety of flavours available in the world of hops is fulfilled.

One missed step and one unique perspective: a reminder of why variety is so important to the beer drinker, and not just the one with a blog to fill. Thanks to the Carlow crew for the bottles.

Passing sweeps

Dropping into bars and offies on spec in search of beers new and interesting is a fairly regular part of my drinking life, particularly when left to my own devices.

One such wandering into the beer section of SuperValu recently turned up a bottle of Redemption IPA, the first of the style from the generally quite safe Kildare-based brewery Kelly's Mountain. The ABV is certainly safe, a very approachable 4.8%. It poured beautiful: the flawless clear gold of fine Czech lager with a pure white head whose loose bubbles showed that the carbonation was at just the low level I like. Sure enough there's a lively sparkle to it but no more fizz than it strictly needs. According to the label it's dry-hopped with Chinook and Admiral, promising "magnificent hop aromas balanced with a high bitterness" but it had already started to unravel even before I looked for the brewer's description. The aroma is all malt and sweet almost to the point of sickliness, a golden syrup note bringing thoughts of pilsner to mind again. But definitely no hops to speak of. And it's sweet again to taste: cloying brown sugar and a dirty great smear of diacetyl, though finishing quickly and leaving just a lightly acidic bitterness in the back of the palate. Doubtless the brewer had good intentions but something has let them down: the kit, the recipe, the method. It's not a bad beer; it will have fans, but it doesn't deliver on the promise of the label. Redemption is very much pending.

Work sent me on a rare foray into the south-eastern quarter of Dublin recently and I stuck my head into The Square Ball on the way home. Brewtonic's new porter was on: 13 Seconds, another one brewed at Rascal's to Rossa's recipe and commemorating a recent victory of Dublin's top kicky-punchy man Conor McGregor. It's 5% ABV and foamed a lot as it poured, staying fizzy as I drank my pint, though that didn't take long. The first impression on tasting is a slightly ashen roasted grain quality, followed quickly by a balancing velvety milk chocolate effect and seasoned with gunpowder spices of the sort I normally find adding complexity to dark beers on cask, so it was nice to find them in this cold fizzy keg. Last week's Alltech beer festival, of which more anon, provided the opportunity to try the cask version and it's as sumptuously smooth and creamy as I was expecting. But back to the keg, which finishes dry with a more serious metallic hop edge. It doesn't taste 5% and is very sessionable. I'd have happily stayed for another but there was another pub I wanted to drop by.

It was a specific beer that lured me to Alfie Byrne's, having already drawn a blank at its big baby sister The Gasworks. Kompass is described by Galway Bay Brewery as a "hopfendunkel" -- the first I've come across. It's 8.2% ABV and colourwise is, well, purple when put in front of a candle, the pub's main and rather inadequate source of light. I assume it's a dark red colour where it's bright enough to see. A haze was visible too, which is fair enough because the aroma leaves no doubt that we're in weizen territory: there's a massive hit of boozy bananas in the aroma, like Aventinus with the volume up. The texture is appropriately smooth and there's lots more luxury bananas and a darkly decadent rum baba flavour with lighter notes of vanilla ice cream. But then the special effects kick in: a sharply acidic, palate-scrubbing, green hop bitterness that's completely out of place. On each mouthful it's not noticeable at first but then jumps in, loudly and unbidden. The end result is a beer which tastes like an ill-advised blend of a weizenbock and a harsh IPA. I'd like to try this dunkel without so much hopfen, thank you.

That was only a couple of weeks ago but the Kompass sign was already coming down from the blackboard in The Beer Market when I called in last Thursday, to be replaced by yet another new Galway Bay beer: 303. There's lots to conjure with in the description: a "tart pale ale with Azacca hops", but it's really quite a simple affair. It's pitched at a sessionable strength and sessionable price: 3.5% ABV and €4.50 a pint respectively, presenting a murky orange but happily not yeast-bitten (a second pint, in Alfie's on Saturday, was perfectly clear). There's not much by way of aroma: a lightly sour acidity and no more than a suggestion of hops, but the hops are front and centre in the flavour. It tastes bright and fresh with a gorgeous rounded, juicy tangerine foretaste, then a slightly sharper pineapple note in behind, but tropical through and through. While a salty sour tang is certainly present, it's not a defining feature and serves only to aid drinkability. Those who are "into sours" probably won't find much to engage them here. On the downside I think I got a flash of stale oxidation on the very edge of the flavour and, unsurprisingly, the texture is rather watery which starts to get a bit irritating towards the end, but these are teeny tiny quibbles. 303 is a nice sidestep from both Heathen and Via Maris, and like both of them it's a beer I will happily drink, in quantity, until it runs out. I hope it lasts long enough for al fresco consumption.

Howls aplenty

I suspect that Her Majesty may not have paid a visit to the royal lock-up in Hackney Wick for some time. That's not to say Queen's Yard hasn't seen a lick of paint recently: au contraire, the entire neighbourhood, just across from the gleaming Olympic park, is resplendent in every colour the spraycan industry currently produces. But there's a definite sense of defiant down-at-heel-ism about the small industrial space that houses half a dozen or so enterprises. This being London 2015, it's not surprising that two are microbreweries.

Unlike down Bermondsey way, the Queen's Yard pair are open normal pub hours all week. It was early on a quiet Monday afternoon so we had all of Howling Hops to ourselves. And you really feel the emptiness in this space: it's laid out beer-hall style with rows of long tables and benches on the concrete floor under bare hanging bulbs. A full working brewery occupies the other half of the premises and it looked like kegging and bottling were taking place while we were there. The main draw sits, appropriately, between the public and production areas: Howling Hops is London's only tank bar, with ten three-metre tall serving tanks each pouring a different beer. Everything is presented by the two-thirds pint in dinky handled mugs that look like they were sourced in the Czech Republic. There was nothing for it but to get to work: you start on the left, I'll start on the right, and we'll meet at tank 6. (Not really, but you get the idea.)

First for me, after the long Underground-Overground schlep from Heathrow, was Howling Pils. Refreshment was my goal and, yes, I suppose this delivered it. It's not very exciting, though. 4.6% ABV and slightly hazy, smelling vaguely of asparagus and dry chalk and tasting a bit musty, with that burlap thing brewpub lagers sometimes have. I'd have thought, perhaps irrationally, that the whole tank dealy would be ideal for fresh, fun lager, but I suspect their heart isn't in the style. The high proportion of pale ale variants probably should have told me that.

For the lady, a go of the 4% ABV brown ale Running Beer. The plaques on the tanks helpfully list the hops for most of the beers and this one employs Citra, Chinook and Centennial, it said. It's rather pale, more amber than brown, really, and the aroma offers an interesting mix of pungent green hops and sweet milk chocolate. Very bitter on the first sip, it settles to resins, then back further to tropical fruit, and ripe squashy mango in particular. The texture is a little thin but the hop fun more than makes up for this.

Starting at the baseline pale ale, Riding Ale (for cyclists, of course) is 3% ABV and uses a combination of four American hops, leaning heavily on bittering varieties like Galena and Nugget. It's a pale yellow, thin again, but there's nothing slim about that aroma: a full, heavy, heady, fresh citrus burst. And powerfully bitter, casting any sense of balance gloriously to the wind. After a moment or two a sherbet softness comes out but it never quite loses that watery quality. Nevertheless, this ranks with the best of London's hoppy table beers in my estimation.

The standard Pale Ale is a very English 3.8% ABV, utilising not-at-all English Citra, Simcoe and Mosaic hops. That Simcoe spiciness hits you right in the face to begin with, followed by the juicy tropical decadence of Mosaic. They make a superb double act. This one's not watery but light and sinkable, reminding me a lot of Ireland's own Via Maris, on a good day.

And finally for this round, a big jump to Howling Hops IPA at 7.5% ABV. This is a dark amber colour and slightly hazy. It's very heavy and sticky, utterly lacking in freshness or zing. Instead there's a bitter caramel effect with a touch of oily hop resins. A sudden change to a minor key after the previous happy sing-along numbers.

Next to it there is Black XX, not badged as a black IPA, but along those lines, and 5.5% ABV. It's a dark cola-red and smells of spicy red cabbage: very Eastern European. Fresh green veg is a major part of the flavour, providing an almost metallic acidity next to big liquorice and strong coffee. It's not especially thick but does manage to convey a burnt tarry effect that gives an illusion of body. Quite an enjoyable sipper.

Six beers in we decided it was time to move on and explore further. But, for reasons which will become clear shortly, it was necessary to return to Howling Hops before we left the district altogether. My last one was Howling Hops Smoked Porter. I found it a little lacking in body the way a 5.6% ABV beer shouldn't be. The flavour is pretty simple too: pleasant chocolate, light smoke, a gentle hop complexity in the finish, but nothing worthy of the steam train powering along on the poster. It could do with more of everything.

And finally for herself Rye Wit. It took me far too long to twig that this is just a one-dimensional pun: yes it contains rye but it's not a witbier, being instead yet another pale ale. It's 5.7% ABV and a clear pale gold. Citra is running the show throughout, giving it a herbal aroma and a hint of urinal cakes too, all accentuated by a grassy sharpness which I'm guessing is the rye at work. There are some rounded orangey fruit notes as well, for balance, but it's still very much a beer where the hops are in charge.

Come to think of it, the same can be said for the brewery as a whole. They have a good offer going at Howling Hops and they've definitely got the hang of making these US-inspired hop kickers, often at very manageable British strengths. If you've been counting you'll notice that we only got eight tanks ticked off: the red and yet another pale ale (whose tap was misbehaving) will have to wait to next time.

But, as I mentioned, we left after six beers and took the twenty paces or so to the other brewpub in Queen's Yard: Crate. The brewkit occupies a unit at one end of the yard, while over at the other Crate has a beautifully set-up taproom, heavy on industrial-chic and with a magnificent terrace looking over the canal to the Olympic park beyond. I'd heard good things about the pizza so lunch was on the cards, but first: some beer.

I jumped in at the deep end with Crate Sour, a foxy amber colour and smelling interestingly orangey. I hadn't been expecting fruit. There's an initial fun tang on tasting but then a fusty staleness and a terrible cheese funk; bad, plasticky, Primula-grade cheese. Urrgh! Some ill-advised hopping, perhaps? I dunno. The slap of wet cardboard on the finish suggested that hops weren't its only problem. "It tastes like death" said my perspicacious companion, looking up from her own beer.

Not much fun was being had there either, it must be said. Crate Oceanic Pale Ale is your proper full-on custardy London Particular. Maybe it was the rainy summer afternoon by the canal, but it smelled overgrown to me: lots of nettles and similar lush green weeds. But that's all the hops got to say. The flavour is all savoury yeast completely drowning out any other flavours. It's not dreggy or bitter, not offensively yeast-bitten as such, but it is bland. The thought of picking something else to have while waiting for lunch felt too much like Russian roulette, so we moved on.

Since the new Truman brewery is in the neighbourhood we wandered around to look at that. Bearded men were trundling barrels around out the front, much as I'm sure they did in old Truman's Victorian heyday on Brick Row. A little further on is The Plough at Swan Wharf, which sounds like a traditional pub but is really another modern warehousey plate-glass-and-steel establishment. Truman uses it as a kind of unofficial tap, so where better to try their beers? I opted for Lazarus, on cask. It arrived a hazy orange and this time it did taste yeasty and bitter, with added notes of musty furniture abandoned in an attic. Zero redeeming features here but I can't say whether that's the beer, the dispense, or a combination.

At least the wife's half looked better. This was Truman Pale Ale from the keg, an attractive pale yellow. There are some pleasant resinous hop notes here but then it all gets horribly soapy and sweaty, not at all helped by the fact it was served far warmer than a kegged pale ale should be. Hopefully this is not as the brewer intended.

And those four last beers are the reason we had to return to Howling Hops on the way back to the train, to leave Hackney Wick on a happier note. More London pub-hopping to come later this week, but before that we'll be spending a bit of time at the 2015 Great British Beer Festival which began the following afternoon.

England streaming

I've no idea why I've been dodging Thornbridge on this blog, but it seems I have. A notebook clear-out revealed a string of their beers that I'd drank on draught in Dublin over the last seven months but never got round to scribbling about. This post is for putting that right.

Puja first, a 6.4% ABV pale ale found on keg at The Black Sheep. The odd ingredient is what attracted me: Puja is a jasmine IPA. It presents as a middling shade of orange, maybe towards red gold, and slightly hazy with it. There's a huge amount of complexity in the flavour but it's also extremely drinkable, given the strength. Its secret, I reckon, is the tannins: a crisp, dry refreshing quality that allows for big quenching gulps. Each gulp brings an explosion of fruitcake fruits: sultana, orange peel, lemon zest. There's a lot of Earl Grey about it as well, plus a more intense frankincense spicing. Overall very balanced but nicely weird as well.

Big things were expected a few weeks later when Twin Peaks showed up in Alfie Byrne's. This one is Thornbridge's collaboration with Sierra Nevada, and I've rarely seen the Californian pioneers collaborate with anybody. It poured a worryingly pale shade of yellow and keeps things light and breezy in the flavour: some lemon sherbet and chew-sweet, plus a bonus burst of mandarin. The finish brings a slightly more assertive pithy bitterness and maybe even some naughty dankness, but not enough to turn it from a casual quaffer to a more serious beery experience. Maybe it's just the mood I was in on the day but I was a bit disappointed with it. It didn't taste like a joint effort of two such high-calibre breweries.

Still, there I was back in Alfie's a little later asking for a glass of Topaz from the beer engine. Another golden one: this time perfectly clear once it had settled. Maybe it's the dispense method smoothing out the complexities, but I found this to be a rather simplistic beer: a light dusting of orange sherbet, rising to a mild and tangy tangerine bitterness with perhaps just a frisson of spicy sulphur. Though strong for an English cask ale there's no malt action and very little weight to it. Enjoyable, sure, but not the sort of beer on which brewery reputations are built.

And if you don't mind I'll just wedge in another English cask while I'm clearing the notebook. This is Loddon's Hullabaloo, served in L. Mulligan Grocer. It was a warm summer's evening so I welcomed the refreshing aroma of pear juice, strange and all that I found it. Underneath that it's a sweet beer with lots of tangy orange candy. There's a little bit of the peary, almost nail-varnish-like, acetyl in the flavour, but it's mostly kept in check. Best of all there's more of those classic English tannins providing a dry finish. Tannin really is the key to drinkability in a bitter, if I'm the one doing the drinking anyway.

Puja excepted, I can kinda see why most of these slipped my attention for so long.

And since this post keeps getting kicked back in the publishing schedule for no good reason, I may as well bring it up-to-date with a couple more English draught beers I've encountered more recently.

Vigilante, from Beerd Brewery in Bristol (seemingly an offshoot of Bath Ales), was a surprise when it showed up on the taps at Bierhaus in Galway last month. It's a pale ale at an approachable 4.5% ABV, coloured a bright and attractive gold. And the flavour is very approachable too, all mandarin sweetness and light, laced with a fresh and zesty bitterness. An unfussy beer, simple, but brimming with understated quality.

More recently I had my first ever beer by Bermondsey's Brew By Numbers, on keg at Alfie Byrne's. 11|07 describes itself as a "session ale" and is 3.9% ABV, which is fair enough. No London murk here, just a scattering of bits floating in a clear gold body, though rather decapitated. The mild aroma of tinned fruit salad did not prepare me for the fresh dank hop hit at the front of the flavour. It's intensely acidic at first, then calms down a little, but only as far as grapefruit and no further. The texture is light, reflecting the ABV, but it's not watery and those hops -- Chinook and Centennial, apparently -- just keep on delivering. I really could drink a lot of this, but the 33cl serving at €5 a glass does not do it any favours. Via Maris, a few taps over, is a much more attractive proposition.

The urge

The European Beer Bloggers Conference came to Dublin a couple of weeks ago and I tagged along on the first night's pub crawl, an east-to-west trek from The Brew Dock to the far west end of Temple Bar. The route got edited a little on the way but there was no question of skipping The Norseman, probably the best bar for Irish craft beer in the city centre. I was determined to be sociable, casual: all pints and chat and no ticking. But The Norseman's blackboards got the better of me. There's a handful of new Irish beers I'd been meaning to try for ages and there they all were. Out with the notebook and down to business...

The long-anticipated second and third releases from Donegal Brewing were both on tap. Sea Sessions is a very pale ale and has a fair bit in common with older sibling Donegal Blonde, being very clean and crisp, with just enough of a pils-like hop buzz to make it worthwhile. Not a stand-out given what else it shared bar space with, but I'd be very happy with this if I were on its own turf in Ballyshannon. Atlantic Amber offers more understated quality, this time with light toffee malt and a dry roast barley bite. "Amber" is a little bit ambitious if taken as the purported style: what we have here is a solid, full-bodied, Irish red ale.

Continuing the summer theme, Eight Degrees's World Cup offering is Olé Olé, a 5% ABV witbier. Surprisingly, given the brewery's recent stellar form, there's not a whole to this. It's maybe a little bit pithier than your average witbier but is lacking in both spice and fruit. You can't argue with its refreshment power or drinkability, however. I guess it's designed to not distract from the football, in which case it works. Dublin brewery Five Lamps also has a summer seasonal out: Summer Steam Beer. The brewery, as far as I'm aware, isn't set up for lager and has its own produced at Eight Degrees. Part of me wondered if this steam beer (lager yeast with ale methodology) was an experiment to see if they could take the lager in house. And I have to say, I'm convinced. It's perfectly clear and possesses that beautiful crispness of well-made lager. The hopping is generous too, with all the waxy bitterness of a quality German pils.

Elsewhere in Dublin, I found the revamped Kill Lager by Trouble Brewing on tap in L. Mulligan Grocer. No longer a rebadged pils, this is now a proper Vienna lager. Very proper, in fact. Well... it's maybe a teeny bit pale in colour, more of a Lucozade orange than the traditional red-brown. But there's all of those lovely chewy melanoidin cake-and-biscuit malt notes with extra raisin and candy sweetness, all set on the sort of flawlessly clean base that cool fermenting provides. The finish is a very central-European grassy flavour, plus a carbonic bite from the high-ish carbonation. We don't get enough of the darker lager styles around here so it's nice to have this bit of variety, especially at the reasonable 4.9% ABV strength point.

Not one to be left out of a new Irish beer round-up, Galway Bay released a Table Beer (subsequently re-named Via Maris) last week: 3.5% ABV, produced from the second runnings of their stonking double IPA Of Foam & Fury and hopped with Amarillo, Citra and Wai-iti, in a big big way. It arrived an opaque pale orange, looking unattractively soupy with a very short-lived head. The aroma isn't massive, but there's a generous slug of grapefruit zest in there. The flavour is lots of dank followed by loads of pith: brick-subtle. Somewhere buried deep beneath the alpha acid action there's a tiny malt backbone propping the whole thing up, but it's struggling and certainly not making much of a contribution to the very thin texture. For all its palate-stripping burn, I rather liked it and had very little to complain about at €4 a pint -- over 20% cheaper than any other house beer -- but I imagine it will split the drinkers into the bargain-hunters and hop-heads on one side and the balance and subtlety fans on the other. I know which side I'm on.

Finally, a slightly off-kilter new cask ale from White Gypsy: King Cormac. I really can't fathom what existing style this is closest to, it being 5% ABV, dark brown-red and with a bizarre -- but entertaining -- spicy incense flavour. I suppose porter is the closest, though there's also a fair bit of brown-ale-style coffee and creaminess. In short, after two pints in The Brew Dock I still didn't know what it is, but I liked it. Lesser breweries describe their beer as iconoclastic but this is what iconoclastic tastes like.