Three, two, one

The new releases from the Third Barrel family have been steady and regular lately. This post took a while to build, with me thinking several times it's finished until I had yet another beer to add.

I'm starting today at Third Circle, and a session IPA called No Drama, with El Dorado as the headlining hop. This is 4.8% ABV, a pale gold colour and slightly hazy. The aroma is subtly fruity, showing traces of mango and lychee, but not a frontal assault of them, more's the pity. Similarly in the flavour, the tropicals are an aftertaste and an afterthought. Up front there's quite a savoury, caraway-seed bite. This becomes less pronounced as the beer warms in the sun, though the fruit becomes more cordial than juice when that happens. Overall it's OK -- "sessionable" doesn't mean "thin" here, but it does mean somewhat muted flavours. After Third Circle's recent cherimoya sensation, I was hoping for something more intense.

After that came a dry-hopped saison called Unsocial Creatures. The can declines to tell us what it's dry hopped with, but does say it's just 4.4% ABV. It's a little on the pale side, a hazy light shade of orange. The aroma is a mix of citrus fruit and sour candy. It's light, as expected, with a palate-scrubbing fizz. The native fruity side of saison is foremost; a mix of Golden Delicious apples and ripe apricot with a kick of white pepper. The hops offer a counter-melody to this: sharper lime rind and bathroom-cabinet bergamot. It's extremely refreshing without being bland; complex but not busy. Saison tends not to be a style I'm willing to drink several of in succession but I could enjoy a few of these. You should too.

I then discovered, to my surprise, that I'd never tried Third Circle's current flagship, Third Circle Pale Ale. Remedy was swift, and I found a clear golden beer with lots of froth on top. It's lightly tangy, mixing grapefruit zest with a floral perfume. This is balanced against a very old-fashioned crystal malt caramel effect. There's a touch of English bitter in the drily tannic finish. This is very straightforward fare, and at 4.8% ABV quite easy going. I think, however, it would be better suited to pints, possibly even cask, than small cans. It's a beer for thirst-quenching and refreshment more than considered analysis.

To Stone Barrel next, and a 440ml can of Curve Ball, a "tart Simcoe pale" coming in at 5.2% ABV. Pale and hazy again, this time the fog is denser than any of the above, without going for full opacity. Hoppiness wins over tartness here; a powerful lime bite being the centrepiece of the flavour, almost at Margarita-level. The sour element is so complementary to this it almost gets lost, blending in seamlessly with the citric acidity. There is just an extra waxy twang on the end that stands out as its own thing, adding a certain lambic-like quality to the whole picture. I liked this. Part of me craved a more assertive sourness, and I think the hops could have withstood that, but I also enjoyed what's there: a classic American hop profile on a clean base with no distractions. This a a straight-talking sort of pale ale.

The other recent Stone Barrel release for today is Short Change, which re-purposes the artwork and ABV (2.8%) of last year's Slammer. It looks similar too: a milky, murky orange. The hops are different, though, swapping Enigma and Hallertau Blanc for Citra and Idaho 7. I enjoyed Slammer; this not so much. It's very dreggy with bags of dry, chalky, savoury flavour, catching the throat particularly in the finish. In front of that there's a sugary, jammy, fruit tart sort of flavour, with a dollop of vanilla ice cream on the side. As an easy session beer it doesn't really work; the lightness from the low strength is undone by the rough rasp of proteins and yeast that should have been taken out. Short Change? Yes, actually.

Finally, Third Barrel joins the party with just one new beer, a big double IPA called These Four Walls, brewed with Citra and Mosaic hash. It's a medium hazy yellow shade and smells beautifully tropical: mango and honeydew melon with a cheeky twist of black pepper. The flavour is pleasingly clean and that spice is unexpectedly to the fore: a little bit rye grass, a little bit nutmeg. Citra's lime-rind bitterness is the next thing I noticed, then a softer Mosaic peach and apricot thing. The finish is dry and just a little hot. Despite the murk there's a lot of the west coast about this. I think it's the dryness that does it, though there's a definite resinous dank as well. It's a class act all round. Balance often isn't part of the IPA spec but I do appreciate it when I find it.

Despite all six being pale and hop-forward, there's a decent level of variety amongst this lot. The tart pale ale is the one I'd like to see more riffs on; it's an underused combination of flavours and one which is particularly welcome this time of year.

Brewing the Dew

The beers from the house brewery at The Dew Drop Inn in Kill, Co. Kildare came slowly. They first appeared back in the spring of 2016, brewed then at Kill's original brewery Trouble. There were subsequent festival appearances for the Brewing Dew brand while the standalone brewery was being established. I'm sure the primary aim was to supply the small chain of pubs (The Dew Drop, Harte's of Kildare and Ashton's in Dublin) but circumstances have meant canning has been necessary. So here they are: the first three releases.

In a pleasing continuity, the very first beer they offered in 2016, an oatmeal pale ale called '96, is still here, although it's now called Ninety Six because we're spelling everything with letters. I found this assertively piney in its original iteration but it's calmer now, or maybe my palate has adjusted. There's a lot of very herbal dankness, though more spicy than bitter. I'd almost swear there's rye in the grain bill but there isn't. At just 4.8% ABV it lands a heavier punch than many a stronger beer. The hop freshness and the resinous intensity add up to something highly enjoyable, in the very counter-cultural west coast way.

The other two are both lagers, a start-up decision which is -- ha ha -- quite refreshing. No Fury is first, a Helles, though a very light one at just 4.2% ABV. It looked a bit hazy in the glass and I stopped pouring before all the dregs went in. Helles shouldn't have dregs. The aroma is fresh and lemony, smelling cold and delicious on the warm afternoon when I drank it. That light citrus runs through the flavour as well, prefiguring the spongecake malt element, then complementing it. A mouthwatering grassy bite finishes it off. This is one of those non-German German-style beers that lacks stylistic precision but is still really enjoyable. It has the gentle sharpness of a pilsner allied with Helles's soft malt and a touch of the unfiltered roughness of kellerbier. I wonder did they decide to call it a Helles because it's just a more fashionable name at the moment. Regardless, this is an excellent and characterful quaffing lager.

Matters take a darker turn with Zither, a Vienna lager. The name is an oblique reference to The Third Man, in case you were wondering. It's quite a deep russet colour with a modicum of murk through it. The head is handsome at first but fades quickly. There's a rich bready aroma and a surprise burst of fruit in the flavour: I get summer berries in particular. That's followed by a dark-malt crispness and a gentle waft of salad-like noble hops. I think I was expecting it to be sweeter but while it's very much malt-forward it's also well balanced. The mouthfeel is excellent too: full like a Märzen at only 4.6% ABV. The colourful label suggests wacky craft while the beer inside is all calm and understated quality.

It's a promising start, and a special acknowledgement for opening on well-made well-established beer styles rather than trying to grab attention with anything silly. The brewery's roots in the pub trade may have something to do with that. Now, let's have a porter.

An experiment goes wrong

Larkin's popped out two single-hop IPAs a while back. I made the nerdy mistake of setting up a blind tasting to attempt to learn from them.

These things are often high drama, in my house anyway. This wasn't. The Larkin's Citra tasted unmistakably like a perfect expression of Citra: a herbal, funky, urinal-cake aroma leading on to lime shred and grapefruit juice. Zingy and resinous in equal measure; assertive yet friendly; I wished I'd just drank it instead of playing with it.

And the same, more-or-less, goes for Larkin's Mosaic: an aroma of spiced apricot then a smooth cantaloupe flavour backed by bitterer peach skin and a twist of white pepper. Comparison with Little Fawn is inevitable, and this is no Little Fawn -- it's bigger, and harder work, but still really good.

Both of these are superb showcases for their titular hops, pitched well in the middle at 5.5% ABV. Try to ignore the coldly technical names, and the urge to do experiments. They're built for enjoyment so do that, somewhere sunny.

Hope for some of us

The Hope Limited Edition series dropped another brace of cans recently, the first being No. 19: American Pale Ale. The USP here is that it's a collaboration with BrewDog's Dublin brewery, which as far as I know never got round to releasing any beer of its own in the few short months it traded.

Blue can, 5.7% ABV, misty yellow pour. Is this Punk? The aroma is a mix of tropical fruit and dank -- this IS Punk --- but the flavour is drier and more mineral-like. There's no sign of that initial fruitiness, replaced by chalk and grass; bitter to the core. It's a little unbalanced that way, rough and enamel-stripping, with a hard, Germanic, herbal bite on the end. Chinook, Citra and Centennial says the label: no Cascade, but this shows an earthiness I associate with that hop. I'm still thinking of Punk, but more the 2007 6% ABV Jaipur clone than the current iteration. Aaanyway, comparisons aside, this is a hard and pointy IPA of the sort nobody makes any more. Maybe you hanker after this kind of thing; I found it quite tough going now as much as I did a decade ago.

Meanwhile, as a two-finger salute to the anal-retentives out there, 19 in the sequence is followed by No. 1516: Unfiltered Lager. It's a nod to the Reinheitsgebot, of course, and the second unfiltered lager in the series, following no. 2. While that one was a burst of summer sunshine, this is darker and more serious. It looks awful, a muddy orange with little head. The carbonation is low, as is the aroma; only a medium-sweet syrup smell. That all gels together better on tasting when the hops kick in. It's still a bit flat and there's a burnt sugar aftertaste, but before that a buzz of spicy noble hops, bringing white pepper and rocket special effects. It's a kellerbier, then. Fresh, and a little unrefined, but with a raw and rustic charm. I could imagine drinking this in a German basement brewpub and that's something I could really use about now.

Finally, Hope's seasonal beer guy is back for Summer 2020, staying socially distanced on the beach. "An old-school American pale ale" says the can, and also "4.9% ABV", which doesn't sound like any American IPA I remember. It's also hazy and yellow. Lads, if you mean "bitter", just say "bitter". Chinook, Citra and Centennial are your hosts once again, this time bringing you a surprising amount of dank resins, building in intensity to a full-on grass and wax finish. OK now I get the "old-school" bit: there's earthy pine in a very Sierra Nevada way, and an oily jaffa-skin bite too. That said, the modern haze brings a softer side, with tropical mango, smoothie vanilla and maybe even a brush of garlic. Far from a relaxing summer sessioner, it's a beer I ended up arguing with myself over. My conclusion is that it's a modern hazy pale ale with the bitterness ramped up and as such doesn't really work. It ends up jarring and awkward. Where American-style IPA is concerned you need to pick a side: clear, amber and grapefruity or the soft yellow tropical dessert. There is no in-between.

That blip aside, I'm pleased to see special editions with no silly twists or weird ingredients. Hope might present as quirky and playful but I'm very glad that there's reliable brewing talent at the tiller, steering a course away from daft recipes. For now.

Midsummer mixtape

Round-up time! Here's a small sample of what the Irish breweries have been throwing my way lately.

There's another classically quirky Kinnegar can label on DL - Donegal Lager. The description is short on technicals, just that it's "light, refreshing and crushable" -- the sort of thing you might put on tap in the pub in happier times. It's a pure and bright golden colour and keeps its head well. Sweet golden syrup is the centre of the flavour, with just a mild lacing of Saaz-y green herb. If I had to label it with a lager sub-style I'd go with Czech světlý ležák: it has that balance of smoothness and hop bitters at a very reasonable 4.5% ABV, drinking more like 12° despite being closer to 10° in gravity. If such nit-picking doesn't interest you, all you need to know is that this is a clean, crisp and well-made lager with all the essential qualities though lacking a little in distinctive features. Independent Irish breweries tend not to package beers like this because the industrials have the market sewn up between them. It's good to see one of them taking on the challenge, and if easy-drinking lager is your thing, buy this one.

Shaka canned is next, an east coast pale ale from Lough Gill. Amarillo and Azacca, says the label, for "tropical aromas and an orange citrus flavour". I will give it the first part, though the tropicality is definitely more from the candy aisle than fresh produce: Skittles and bubblegum, not actual fruit. I expected a burst of flavour to follow from this but it turned out very plain, offering a buzz of mineral fizz with very little hop or malt character behind. Eventually a little of that candy emerges, but only enough to make it taste like an off-brand tropical fruit soft drink. "Lalt". When the half-hearted sweetness subsides, a dreggy savoury yeast aftertaste remains. Yes it's only 4.6% ABV but there should be enough room in that to make a decent fist of a fruity pale ale. This has a fun and intriguing aroma but somehow completely fails to deliver in the flavour afterwards.

Usually one of the country's busiest breweries, O Brother had been worryingly quiet during The Unpleasantness. They came back with a new hazy yellow American IPA, because apparently they're quite popular these days. On Reflection is the name; 6.4% the ABV. It's the colour of a beaten egg, with a meringue of foam on top. Booze is first in the flavour, then a kind of concentrated oily orange, the combination like neat triple sec. Notorious fruit-bomb hops Azacca and El Dorado have been used, and I guess that their usual cheery Starburst effect has been amped up to something sticky lurking at the back of the cocktail cabinet. Maybe it's because there's an echo of Terry's Chocolate Orange in all this, but I get a not-unpleasant note of dark chocolate and coffee too. A slightly harsh medicinal factor creeps in late, before a gritty dry finish. It's quite a workout, and very unusual, but enjoyable with it. A lot is packed in here. Think of it as a session double IPA.

Keeping it hazy but retreating to a 5% ABV pale ale is Hopfully and Indoor Yoga, continuing with Metalman as their host brewery. It's very hazy indeed, so points off, or in favour, depending on your preference. No arguing with that aroma, full of mandarin and mango, a brush of garlic and heavier alcohol than I'd have expected. Juice to the fore on tasting, real fresh-squeezed OJ, before it turns lighter and spritzier, like a soluble vitamin C tablet. There's a small kick of grit and a faint savoury scallion quality, but really this is genuine juice through and through. There's even a balancing citrus bitterness in the finish, a more refreshing conclusion than the big bag of vanilla you get more often. The texture is weighty and satisfying, without it turning overly thick. This is really nicely done: an excellent balance between mouthwatering tang and creamy roundness. Accessible, yet special. It would be well worth their while making this a core beer.

Kildare Brewing did a re-up of their charity IPA Lock Down, called Lock Down Extended. This time I made no contribution to the good cause as the brewery kindly sent me samples for free. The ABV is down slightly to 5.8% from 6.3% and it's still a hazy and juicy job. The aroma is much better this time, bringing a real tropical power play: concentrated passionfruit and pineapple. That echoes in the finish too, which is nice, but there's something wrong in the middle. It's a twang, subtle at first but but becoming more prominent as the beer warms. Burnt rubber, lemon washing-up liquid and some damp cardboard. It runs across the palate quickly and then it's back to happy fruit, but something has gone awry in the technicals here, I think.

Trouble, too, has taken the hazy route with its new micro IPA Love Below. It's only 2.6% ABV and uses wheat, rye and oats, presumably to bulk up the body. And it works quite well: there's no unpleasant thinness here. There's not much of an aroma, just a slight citrus buzz. The flavour is quite sweet: ripe peach and tangerine. Its bitter side arrives late, bringing quite a harsh tang, like aspirin. That doesn't last long and the whole thing finishes up quickly. For a very low-strength beer it does a great job, tasting convincingly like a proper pale ale, if not a very exciting one. That aspirin harshness spoiled my enjoyment a little, but it's otherwise decent.

Clancy's Cans is the new limited edition series from Ballykilcavan, beginning with Raspberry Vice. Despite the informal naming convention around the v-word, and the use of raspberries, it is not in the Berliner weisse style, but an "American raspberry wheat beer". The colour is striking: the pinkish-grey hue of real summer fruit in a blender. The aroma is mostly sweet, though with a tart edge as well: again, very real. The flavour less so. "Jammy" says the can, and it is, but more the jelly-like candy jam in a Jammy Dodger than actual jam jam. From that first impression it gets bitterer; a mix of the tart fruit and an unusually assertive hop bitterness. It might have turned out harsh were it not for the texture: a soft and mellow pillowy effect making great use of that wheat. Overall it's a bit silly, a bit novelty-driven, but that's perfectly fair, especially when there's nothing really like it on the market at the moment. Porterhouse goers who enjoyed the occasional pint of Früli will likely welcome this.

Meanwhile Rye River rebooted its own limited series with Intergalactic Yuzu, a fruited gose brewed in (remote) collaboration with Yeastie Boys. Although yuzu is the title fruit, there's also lime, lemon, mandarin, and something called sudachi which I'm certain they made up as a joke. It's a light 3.9% ABV and a pale orange colour with just a slight misting of haze. A gentle mineral tartness is the opening gambit, followed by the citrus where of course lime is dominant. There's the concentrated lime oil of a cordial as well as spritzier juice. The blurb suggests a margarita but it's too sweet for that; more like the fresh squeeze of a wedge in a gin and tonic. That sweetness does start to cloy a little as it warms in the sun. I found myself craving the cool tartness more and more as it went. It's a decent sort, all-in-all, though doesn't quite deliver on its highly-involved premise.

Galway Bay also talks a big game on this new one, Oregon Grown: all about going to the Pacific North West and selecting only the finest, like an actor in an instant coffee ad, then adding the hand-picked cones every ten minutes for the duration of brewing. What we've got is a pale and hazy IPA of 6.6% ABV brewed with Idaho 7, El Dorado and Strata. It smells dank and weedy, but there's also the pissy tinge of beer left on hops too long. It's a thick beast, with a concentrated tropical effect, like a mango and apricot cordial, the sort of taste you usually find congealed on the neck of a brightly-coloured cocktail syrup bottle. Maybe it's because it tastes like cocktail cordial, but it's hot as well, tasting like an 8%+ double IPA. The finish brings the grassy piss thing back, just when you think you're done. This will have its fans, and I respect the effort that went into it, but it tastes over-egged to me: too much, too hard and completely lacking in balance. Those of a sensitive disposition should approach with caution; hop bros who think Oranmore should be more like Orange County, this is your moment.

Possibly the strangest offering in today's line-up is YellowBelly's Mad Hatters Tea Party, purporting to be an IPA with matcha green tea and lactose. It pours a pale and hazy orange-yellow colour and smells a little of sticky candy. The flavour expands on that, offering a lurid tropical wonderland of brightly-coloured sweets: Skittles were my first thought, but there's Starburst and lemon drops in here too. Yes it's sweet -- thanks a bunch, lactose -- but it's not overdone. Furthermore, I think the hops are making a real contribution, like in a proper IPA. Kazbek I'm not familiar with, but Hüll Melon's signature juicy grape is definitely making a contribution here. Not much sign of the tea, mind, maybe just a leafy papery effect on the end, but I'm quite prepared to believe I imagined that. My preference would be for something drier, maybe ditching the lactose, but on balance I regard this as one of those crazy experiments that actually worked.

Not an experiment but a new addition to YellowBelly's core range is Pirate Bay session IPA. I shouldn't have read the hops in advance -- Centennial, Hallertau Blanc, El Dorado and Idaho 7 -- because I spent too much of my time drinking it trying to pick them out. There's a solid, classic American citrus base, so that'll be the Centennial. And then a big fruit-candy chew thing which says El Dorado to me. The sweetness dominates the whole picture, coupled with a heavy texture, bigger than I'd expect for 4.5% ABV, to the point where I question the beer's sessionability. Murk plays a role too, from the distressing grey colour, to a rough grittiness in the mouthfeel, to a meaty umami taste behind the fruit. Overall I'm not a fan. The limes and oranges are promising but they need a vigorous polishing up.

The blurb on Lineman's Vesper is a little confusing: "tropical and citrus". Well which is it? Sweet or bitter; east-coast or west-coast; fashionable or good? It's a pale ale of 5.4% ABV, mostly quite clear and the golden orange colour of sunsets and tartrazine. The aroma is juicy: mandarin and pineapple. The citrus comes in early in the flavour: a gentle spritz of fresh lemon and grapefruit. When that fades there's a softer jaffa and honeydew melon, and a little candy chew, on a crumbly biscuit base. It's nicely balanced -- accessible but complex too -- and thoroughly clean and precise. Just the sort of perfectly-honed understated excellence that has become Lineman's signature.

That was followed a few weeks later by a dark lager called Undertone. It's a deep amber colour and quite murky with it. The aroma is beautifully rich and sweet, all fresh-baked cookies and old-style candystore. The latter is down to a liquorice quality that forms the centre of the flavour. Around this are crisp and slightly roasty dark malts -- rye bread and fruitcake. I noticed it poured quite thickly and there's certainly a big mouthfeel, especially at just 4.2% ABV. Still, it's a lager through and through, refreshing and sinkable with a quick clean finish. I'm not usually a fan of these medium-dark amber lagers but there's enough going on in this one to hold my interest.

Wicklow Wolf's dismissal of the daft rule that stouts don't belong in summer gives us a big finish. Imperial Four Bean Apex is a variant of their excellent Apex oatmeal stout, with the ABV raised to 9.5% ABV and the inclusion of vanilla, cocoa, coffee and tonka. Tonka beans don't mess about, and unsurprisingly they're the main feature in this concoction, beginning with an aroma of mince pies. That Christmassy cinnamon saturates the flavour, with the roasted coffee being the only other bean effect I could pick out. And the stout beneath? Forget about it, it's tonka town. This is quite an enjoyable beer, smooth and easy drinking despite the strength. But considering all the convolutions of the recipe it's just not very complex: an example of the one-good-dimension genre. A square of dark chocolate alongside helped round it out. If you're a tonka fan, or just tonka-curious, this is where you apply.

After a fairly sedate couple of months, the Irish breweries have really sprung to life in a big way. I've developed quite a backlog of reviews so I'll be picking up the pace for the next while. Stand by...

Divide by three

I experienced the mild disappointment of "aww, I've already had it" when I set about writing a review of this can of Great Divide Denver Pale Ale. It showed up previously in this post back in 2011. But! Further research indicates that they changed the recipe in 2016 so I think it's fair game to call it a new beer.

The original tasted of honey, biscuits and fresh fruit, according to me. The new one doesn't. There's a lot of candy in both the aroma and taste: chew sweets, and Refreshers in particular. Throw in some frangipane spongecake as well. Despite this, the texture is light and crisp, feeling less than its 5% ABV and with a pleasingly sharp bite of classic American-hop grapefruit. It's contrast more than balance, but it still works. The can was over six months old by the time I opened it, and it retained an impressive amount of freshness. This is a fun beer, packed with flavour yet accessible and sessionable. Can't say fairer than.

The next one is a bit of a comedy of errors. Hop Disciples is an IPA of 6.2% ABV, part of a "rotating hop project" "featuring a different hop variety every year". Nowhere on the can does it say which hop is actually featuring. *shrug*. The point may be moot, however. I knew this had been in my fridge a while, but not indecently long. However, I may have purchased an antique when I bought it in Stephen Street News as it had clocked up fourteen months in the can by the time I opened it. Ooops. Fermentation may have been chuntering on during that as I got a lot of foam when I poured it. The body is a dark and hazy orange. There's a vague aroma of nondescript diluted citrus drink. The flavour is still good, though. A big malt base stands it in good stead: orange jelly and apricot jam come to mind. Any airier hop high-notes have departed but there's a fun clove or nutmeg spicing. I feared a harsh bitterness but that's not present and it remains balanced. This is no longer an American hop explosion, if ever it was, but it's not too far from a pale English or Belgian strong ale, and as such still very decent drinking.

Sticking with IPA but bringing the ABV up to 8% we have Hopnaut, described in a suspiciously on-trend way as a "double juicy IPA". Let's see about that. It's funny how "juicy" has led to an expectation of haze, even though it doesn't imply that and there's barely any here. The aroma is passably juicy, however, if shading a little to sticky boiled sweets. It definitely doesn't taste like a modern hazeboi: there's real old-fashioned crystal malt sweetness, with a generous squeeze of contrasting lime citrus and a balancing tannic dryness. This is how I remember American double IPAs tasting, back when I first started tasting them. And because my tastes have changed, if not necessarily in the direction of beer fashion, I really quite like it. There's a sizeable booze quotient too, as well as a thick texture, which together make this one to sip and savour. It's not easy going and I'm sure it isn't meant to be. I'm all on board for sneaking ballsy C-hop bitterness into the diet of juice-bomb aficionados, and while I enjoyed that practical joke, I enjoyed drinking this beer even more. Big hops as your grandpappy drank them, in 2008.

Some solid work by Great Divide here, and a nice demolition of the notion that hoppy beer has to be brewery-fresh to be worth drinking.

Fruity little number

A familiar and reputable brand, a beer I'd never had before, and cheap: the tumblers fell into place as I picked this bottle of Rodenbach Fruitage off the shelf at Fresh in Smithfield. Mind you, I didn't think the 3.9% ABV non-specified fruit arrangement in a 25cl bottle would be any good. These rarely are, though must go a bomb in Belgium as lots of otherwise-respectable sour beer breweries make them.

It looked classy, at least: a deep ruby red. The aroma is pure candy, all cherry lips and raspberry chews. Tastewise it's more like a soft drink than a sticky sweet. There's lots of fizz, reminding me of highly carbonated cherryade from my childhood, a substance that doubtless involved no real cherries. This does, I'm sure, and after the initial sugar-and-fizz hit there's an air of cyanide bitterness in the background.

If the sweetness doesn't put you straight off, this is quite enjoyable. It's a long way from plain Rodenbach -- still the best beer in the portfolio -- and it's not completely ruined by the enhancements in the way that too many Rodenbach variants are. There's a little complexity here, and by not being a total tooth-rotting nerve-jangler it gets a pass from me.