A little rain must fall

It's been a while since I last wrote about any Cloudwater beer, though it still trickles into Dublin on the regular. When there was a bunch of them on at the same time in UnderDog I figured I'd take a look and tell you what I made of them.

I began on A Name For Everything, a 7.4% ABV sour beer with fruit added. Before looking it up I thought I'd try and guess which ones. It smells like all of them: a Skittley mix of artificial sweetness. There is a proper tang in the flavour, early enough to be noticed, but its presence is overshadowed by a lot of sweet syrup. Skittles again: orange and lime flavours that are utterly unrelated to real oranges or limes. There's maybe something juicier: peach or mango, but really it's a total muddle. To be honest, I noticed more sticky, milky lactose in here than fruit. It's not offensive per se, and has a more prominent sourness that the worst of this sort. It's still not great though. And the big reveal? All passionfruit, apparently. That explains the sweetness to some extent but this is no Castaway, for sure.

To follow, An Ever Flowing Body of Water, described as a juicy IPA and 6.5% ABV. It's a hazy orange colour: darker than your typical New England-style IPA, perhaps. The aroma is at once dank and pithy while the texture is light and soft. First impression was of something more sessionable than expected. In the flavour there's more herbs than juice, which is nice. Earthy yarrow, peppery rocket and oily rosemary mix with mild mandarin juice and a peach-skin bitterness. At different points in the glassful I got coconut, grass and a dreggy yeast buzz. Overall, I liked it: it's no juicebomb but is a multifaceted and interesting IPA. No by-the-numbers trend-chasing here.

Perhaps unwisely, I finished this set with the baldly-titled Cloudwater IPA. It ended up tasting like a watered-down version of the previous one. It's the same strength but tastes sharper. In isolation it's likely a delightful mix of vanilla and allium flavours, very much in the manner fashionable at present. But I wasn't feeling it on the night. It's fine, if a bit basic. By-the-numbers, one might say. Though I'm not a fan of the savoury central flavours, there's a very pleasant sweet and spritzy satsuma effect in the finish. I don't know if they've made this a core beer, but I can see how they might. If you're looking for something the Cloudwater fans will order more than once, this will do until fashion moves along to something else.

I have no idea if Cloudwater still commands the admiration it did a couple of years ago; I certainly don't hear as much about them, though they're clearly still busy. Perhaps they're better off with the hype train rolling on past them.

We will we will Wrocław

On the Saturday evening of my weekend in Wrocław I left the festival to give the city proper a token once over. I was accompanied by Martyn Cornell who had joined an earlier pub crawl late on the Thursday and was keen to catch up on what he'd missed.

Our first stop was Pinta's local outlet, in a smart modern building on the periphery of the old town. Pinta has grown to become the establishment of Polish independent brewing, moving Boston-Beer-like from having no breweries to having two now. Their Atak Chiemlu IPA, which I'll admit to not being a fan of, is something of a national icon.

I didn't go hoppy on my visit; I went sour. Well, it's Poland: you know yourself. Kwas XY is flavoured with passionfruit and delivers loads of it: a big burst of tangy tropicality which still delights me about passionfruit beers, even though I've had dozens. I got an echo of Irish classic Castaway though it is sweeter, but it's just as bright and summery. I can forgive Poland's aversion to real sourness on this occasion.

Our next call was to 4Hops, a bicycle themepub not far away. From the crowd inside and outside, that's not just a fashion statement, it's where the two-wheel gang actually gathers to drink. What's on the menu? Nothing I recognise so, randomly, a Minister Na Targu by Browar Minister. I must have been in the mood for tropical fruit (it was sunny) because this is a mango and kiwifruit flavoured pale ale. It's a deep hazy orange colour and heavy and resinous, in the vernacular created by Atak Chiemlu back in the day. The fruit does throw a positive spin on this, balancing the bitterness with a sprinkling of Starburst chews. The sweetness never takes over and, at 4.9% ABV, it's quite relaxed drinking. Not a double-thumbs-up, but definitely a could-have-been-worse.

We arrived in the pretty main square next, on one corner of which is the rambling Złoty Pies ("Golden Dog") brewpub. They've gone all-in on the dog theme, with large-format dog prints on the wall, flat screens carouselling more doggy action pics, and a succession of dog puns in the beer names. I had a Bockser. I doubt it qualifies as a bock at just 4.5% ABV. It's more like a normal central European brewpub lager, yellow with a slight haze; tasting of wax and honey. Pleasant and easy going, it's a great conversation beer. I'd have stayed for more but Martyn had another place on his to-do list.

Which was closed. Rather than backtrack, we opted for the branch of the Bierhalle chain which occupies a large footprint on the square, including a beer garden where we set up camp. I'd been to a Bierhalle before, in Łódź: they go for a generic yet charming Germanic vibe. This one didn't have its A-game running though, being slow on service and missing all the seasonal beers. There's no sign of a working brewkit either so I'm not sure if my Marcowe (Märzen) was brewed on-site. It was the right colour of darkish amber anyway, but rather bland beyond that, despite a substantial 5.8% ABV. There's a vague noble hop greenness but nothing I'd call character. Still, I shouldn't have come to Bierhalle expecting to be wowed.

Not far from the dead centre of town is Kontynuacja, a definite outpost of Craftonia with its high ceilings, whitewashed walls, cooler-than-you barstaff and an ever changing blackboard of local and international beers. A New England-style IPA seems only appropriate.

Mine was Juicilicious from Piwne Podziemie. It certainly looked like juice, all headless and opaque. And it tasted exactly like orange juice too: one of those situations where I'm momentarily entertained by the special effect and then disappointed because what I wanted was a beer. A few modern beery elements creep in after a few sips: a concentrated buzz of garlic and a gritty yeast bite. With a little cleaning up this would be an archetype for the style, and I confess I did enjoy my glass of it. I wanted a beer next, though.

Not that I had a choice. Martyn had spotted Maryensztadt's Brytyjskie on the board and two glasses of that were required. There was a beer engine on the bar but I think this came from the regular tap. Still it was headless and rather flat, so may as well have been a Polish take on cask bitter. A tangy orange flavour goes in the good column; a dusty staleness in the bad one. Overall it was convincing as a bitter but not convincing as a beer anyone would like to drink. Someone from the brewery must have had terrible luck drinking in England if they came away thinking British beer tastes like this.

And with that we headed back to the festival for a nightcap I described in Wednesday's post.

Just one more beer before we finish: I couldn't leave without a swift pint of the local macro lager Piast, once brewed in a handsome 19th century building across the way from Stu Mostów but since moved out of town by owners Carlsberg. It's a rich gold colour and has a significant noble hop character touching celery and spinach. 5.5% ABV gives it more depth and heft than most industrial lagers, and although there's a slight syrupy quality, it's smooth enough to be easy drinking. Definitely one for the Better Than It Needs To Be file.

Thanks for Tomasz and the Wrocław Cultural Centre for putting me up and allowing me to take an intensive tutorial in the Polish beer scene in 2019. I do need to explore this country further, though perhaps at a more relaxed pace next time. Meanwhile, the Wrocław festival is well worth your time next year if you haven't been.

Mass market Mikke

I've never been a fan Keith Shore's artwork for Mikkeller. I'm not a fan of that naïve-art look generally and I've always thought it cheapened a brand that did so much to build a reputation beforehand. But. Mikkeller has just embarked on a new departure with permanent core beers which they're calling the Mikkeller Year Round series. The cans feature the familiar Shore style, but they've been cleaned up, rounded out, and look altogether more professional. It's not for me to say if the change in production and design is a sign of Mikkeller growing up a little, nor if that would be a good thing or a bad thing if true. What I do know is I have three cans to review.

Wood Will Fall Down is a passionfruit Berliner weisse, and by golly you have to be brave or stupid, putting one of those on the Irish market in the proximity of YellowBelly's sublime Castaway. This one doesn't quite measure up, though it's not far off. It's a very pale yellow with a slight haze. The passionfruit is present and distinct, and it's properly tart. There's an alkaline edge to it, however: a chalky limestone scratch that's too loud and adds a sharpness which is a little too intense for the beer, reducing its accessibility. It's certainly punchy, but I think for once the fruit should have been allowed a bit more elbow room over the soured side.

Onto more orthodox things now, and a pale ale called Stick A Finger In The Soil. It's a deep orange colour and slightly hazy. The aroma is all but absent, just vaguely orangey. The flavour is similarly understated: it's that savoury caraway seed hop effect but not intensively. The mild citrus sits behind this but doesn't really do anything, gradually fading to nothing, and you're done. This is very plain fare indeed and, to be honest, not the sort of thing I expect from Mikkeller. If they've changed it's not for the better. One more beer for possible redemption...

An IPA: Hair in the Mailbox, 6.3% ABV and a clear pale gold. This is another savoury one, at least to begin with: the aroma giving up baba ganoush and fried onions. The flavour is sweeter and I got a strong lime rind flavour but without the bitterness, as well as bigger kick from the residual yeast in the glass than I was expecting. It's quite thick, to the point of sticky, yet the malt flavour is lacking. To me this suggests a recipe that didn't quite work out as planned -- there's certainly none of the big bold flavour on which Mikkeller made its name.

I'm all for a year-round decent sour beer, though I've tasted better than this one. But the pale ale efforts are distinctly lacklustre and, if they're not once-offs, run the risk of devaluing the Mikkeller brand into just another average contract brewer. It would be a shame to see that happen. Mikkeller should definitely be making better beers than these two.

Downward dog

Dublin's most eagerly-awaited new pub finally clicked open the doors at the beginning of the month. UnderDog is situated in the basement of Brogan's pub on Dame Street and boasts 18 constantly rotating keg lines plus a cask beer engine. Its other (tragically) unique selling point is that it's the only beer pub in Dublin where you can find out what's available before going in and looking. I've high hopes they'll shame everyone else into doing this, because it should be basic stuff.

Though they're by no means shy about local beers, opening night saw taps 1 through 6 dedicated to Lervig in Norway. That's why my first UnderDog beer was a glass of Supersonic, and I'd say that's true for a lot of people, the beer very much living up to its name for the few hours it lasted. It's a double IPA built on a classic American chassis, heavy with syrupy malt and tasting all of its 9% ABV. Offsetting this is the hops, not with a balancing bitterness but with a huge juicy tropical flavour, exactly like those lurid orange mixed-fruit breakfast juices. Like a lot of hyped-up specials that circulate these days it's not very complex, but it's quite enjoyable for the single glass that I guess the brewery is expecting people to drink.

A proper novelty beer to follow: Passion Tang. It's fun and a little bit silly, even if the ABV is a fairly serious 7%. There's a spicy perfume quality to the added passionfruit, which gives it an extra level of depth that other passionfruit-infused sour beers rarely match (sorry Castaway!). While far from sweet it's not really sour either, plotting its own course between them. I liked it, though again it's a one-go beer before moving on.

Last of the set here was 3 Bean Stout, a 13% ABV beast of a thing, employing cocoa, vanilla and tonka beans. It's hellishly thick, almost like drinking treacle. The flavour offers a blend of old-world spices -- cinnamon and ginger -- which, coupled with the sweetness and density, give a Christmas cake or mince pie effect. Not exactly suited to a warm summer's evening, but no matter. Once more, though, I found myself expecting more from the flavour than it delivered. If they dialled back on the novel ingredients and let the stout speak for itself I think they'd have a better and more interesting beer.

There's plenty more from UnderDog's taps on the way, but while I'm on a Lervig kick, a couple more from them which I had at home.

Props to the brewery for putting its hype magnet IPA Tasty Juice in a 500ml can instead of the 440s more common to brewers wanting their beer to look less common. Claims of dankness and tropicality plastered over the can -- plain silver with an abstract decorated label -- leave the buyer in no doubt about what to expect. Yes, it's murky: a solid pale orange with a desultory off-white head. The aroma isn't too powerful but it's definitely dank. Citra is the billed dry hop and the smell certainly backs that up. The texture is pretty smooth though it doesn't have the full-on fluffiness that true-to-style New England IPAs flaunt. And to my mind that's a good thing because, here it is kids: juice isn't fluffy. Those big-bodied New England style hop bursters that purport to be juicy are not, because of that candyfloss texture. This one has dialled that back a little and extra juiciness is the reward for it. I get passionfruit in particular, mango around the edges and finishing bitterer with guava or even (whisper it) grapefruit. The bittering doesn't disturb the softness and merely serves to make the beer extra mouth-watering. This is a barnstormer of a beer: big-flavoured, showing enough of the merits of the New England affectation we're currently living through while also a classic Citra-driven IPA to its core.

Appearing in shops around the same time was Perler for Svin, this one badged as a "juicy IPA" in the description though it comes in a 33cl bottle -- how retro! It looks pretty unpleasant in there, murky globules slopping around behind the brown glass. Pouring it wasn't any improvement, with huge visible lumps hanging in the headless orangey liquid. The aroma is fairly pleasant, however: not banging out hops but certainly presenting a combination of tropicality and garlic-to-caraway savouriness. The flavour leans to the savoury side too, after an initial flash of pineapple and guava. And I'm not at all sure that the hops are the dominant partner here. Yes there's a spring onion green acidity but I also get a strong grittiness which I'd be reasonably certain is down to yeast: it's a taste I associate with badly-poured bottle-conditioned English ales, or the tail end of casks.

I just wasn't as impressed by this as I was by the Tasty Juice, and it could well be that freshness is the issue. "Drink Soon" implored the Perler label, though there was still a full six months left on the best-before. I dread to think what would happen to the aroma and flavour before it officially expired.

They're an extreme bunch, this set from Lervig. The flavours are big and bold, but I detect a seam of cartoonish two-dimensionality running through it all. Can a brewery really build a reputation on artfully presented one-sip-wonders like these?

A bigger Belly

Wexford's YellowBelly brewery descended on 57 The Headline for a tap takeover in early November, bringing as broad a selection as I've seen from one brewery at one of these events. And all, of course, with their distinctive badge artwork from in-house designer Paul.

Naturally I started at the low end, with Harvest Lager, brewed using their own supply of Tipperary-grown Hersbrucker. The ABV is a concerning 3.9% and it's an extremely pale white-gold colour. And yet the body is surprisingly buoyant with a decent amount of candyfloss malt to get your teeth into. There's a real proper noble hop bitterness and a perfect crisp finish. I'm used to being aww-bless tolerant of Irish-hopped beers but this is just a damn decent lager however you look at it.

A tapping mix-up meant I was given an unexpected glass of the companion piece: Harvest Ale. This one is extremely dry with a strong brown-bread-crust flavour. Not unpleasant, but a little odd. Bramling Cross is the homegrown hop, and I detected a small touch of raisin in lieu of the usual blackcurrant effect. I'd be hard-pressed to stick a style label on it but with all that dry husky grain I'd probably end up describing it as some kind of top-fermented kellerbier. It's that sort of rustic wholesomeness.

But back to the lager. Pink Freud is in the Vienna style, though disappointingly yellow rather than pink. It tastes darker than it looks, however: with appropriate sweet and smooth melanoidins from the Munich and Vienna malts. The hops are rather muted and the finish is abrupt, both of which would be normal for the style, though I'm less sure about the rising alcoholic heat that started to creep in as it warmed. I think this one might still need a little therapy.

The wooden spoon of the evening went to Little Red, a 3.9% ABV red ale. A sharply sweet strawberry flavour opens it, leading on to a harsh bitter roasted twang at the end. It's very thin as well, something which really accentuates the pointy edges and makes it harder to drink. While successfully avoiding the blandness trap, this ended up falling into a different one.

No fancy name on Citra Pale Ale, a 4.8% ABV single-hopper. This is a hazy shade of yellow and has a huge zingy sherbet foretaste and a beautiful lemon rind bitterness for a finish. The middle is a little disappointing: there's a hollowness there, thinner and more watery than the strength would suggest. It does get more complex as it warms a little: the sherbet gets sweeter while the lemons turn dank, but it never manages to shake that thinness. Built for the session, I guess, but I'd like a bit more wallop.

The much-renowned Castaway was on, and I enjoyed a note-free pint of that at the end, pleased to learn it'll be something of a regular. The other sour beer they brought was For Whom The Sour Trolls. Citra again, only 3.7% ABV, and an unattractive turbid brown colour. The flavour is massive: a super-sour mouth watering lemon pith smack up front; a chalky alkaline finish and the savoury yeast grit for balance. It sounds awful, like a bunch of brewing flaws strung together, but it works beautifully, scrubbing the palate clean and awakening the senses. Though missing many of the subtleties, it's the closest thing to jonge lambic I've tasted from an Irish brewery. I'd happily clear a stoneware jugful.

On to the stronger stuff now. G'way IPA was making its début, a 6.7%-er with a big Colombus and Cascade bitterness. I got a seriously oily resinous aroma and a jaw-pinching acid bitterness followed by green cabbage and asparagus flavours. This is seasoned with an earthy, woody note, almost smoky with hints of mushroom and leaf mold. It's a very grown up sort of IPA, and tasty with it.

The first draft of Salubrious Stout was also on. The main batch is currently ageing in a whiskey cask but this one was given a dose of whiskey-soaked chips instead. Despite being all of 9% ABV and very dark and dense, the stout character gets a bit lost under the sweet honeyish Irish whiskey and the corky oak flavour. If you prefer vanilla, honey and booze to coffee and chocolate this might suit, but it was out of kilter for my palate.

And the evening's final new beer was Queen Lizzie, officially described as an "Imperial English IPA", 8.3% ABV and served from the handpump as Her Majesty doubtless prefers. It's a clear and innocent gold colour but tastes shockingly hot at first. After a moment the nuances emerge: golden syrup malt and a spinach-like green bitterness. Three sips in I was utterly charmed by the roundness and smoothness, and looking for a fireplace to settle into it by. Yes, it's an English bitter at its core, but there are definite shades of barley wine and tripel around the edges.

Hopefully, with YellowBelly's production moving out of the basement to a big-boy brewery, we'll see beers like this on a more regular basis, not just on special occasions. Props as always to The Headline for making this one possible.

Feel the passion

An addendum to Monday's post on the 2016 Killarney Beer Festival. Once the winners were all finalised in the competition, the leftover bottles were farmed out to the judges by able chief steward Kellie. From among them I got a bottle of Castaway, YellowBelly's collaboration with Dublin's Hope Brewing and sour beer aficionado Shane Smith, for it is a sour beer we're dealing with.

I mentioned YellowBelly's superb passionfruit lager on Monday and they must have got a job lot of passionfruit because here's more of it. I found it to be little more than a flash at the beginning, a welcoming smile of friendly fleshy fruit before the daggers come out. For the most part, and increasingly as it warms, this is intensely sour. A sharp rhubarb acidity strips the teeth and pinches the jaw. More problematically, perhaps, it smells old and mouldy, not quite like the clean dry brick cellars of a Belgian gueuze, but earthier. The finish is bracingly quick though I detected a mild waft of phenolic disinfectant.

It's an ambitious beer, I'll give it that. It doesn't want to play around or treat you with kid gloves. Unless you drink it cold it's cruel and uncompromising and you have to be prepared for it. Me, I think it could do with a few of the corners being knocked off it: a bit more nuance and subtlety. Perhaps that will come with time.

As far as Irish sour beers which you can buy in the off licence go, this is up a level from most of what has gone before.