A wolf in the shadows

With dark beers not exactly en vogue at the moment, it's pleasing that one of the island's best breweries, Wicklow Wolf, has a fan of them at the helm. I almost whooped when I saw that Locavore 2020 was going to be a stout again, but before that, two more from the dark side of Newtownmountkennedy.

Guardian of the Galaxy is a collaboration with DOT Brew and is a double black IPA. It's a style that has always been niche, but Galway Bay's Solemn Black and YellowBelly's Bushido have been stellar examples and set the bar high. I like that they chose the hops not based on the sensory effect of their combination but on the spacey names: Galaxy, Strata and Comet. It smells like it worked: that gorgeous mix of green veg, citrus fruit and fresh coffee that shouldn't gel together but it does. There's a little extra candy in there, suggesting this won't be as bitter as most of the breed. That proved to be an unfair prejudice: there's dank and resins aplenty on tasting, as well as lots of citrus pith. There was something a little artificial about the latter: marmalade, shading to jelly. The ingredients cleared that up by listing blood orange (extract? oil? syrup?), and I don't think that adds anything positive, but it's separate enough from the dark malts and dank hops to not interfere. On the malt side it's not so much roasty as smoky, a balanced kind of acridity, and the finish is proper new-world hop bittering; the sort of dryness that big black IPA presents better than any other style. There's enough novelty here for those who like silly craft beer, but there's a no-nonsense backbone too. A warmth from 8% ABV makes it ideal after-dark winter drinking.

Also 8% ABV is Apex Tiramisu, third in the Let's Fuck About With A Perfectly Good Oatmeal Stout series. The dessert effect is achieved with coffee, cocoa nibs and lactose. It smells strongly of coffee, one of those dense ristrettos made of barely-diluted beans. The coffee effect is there in the foretaste too, though a little gentler tasting. It's a coffee richness, not just roast and bitterness. But that's about it for complexity. Having crunched the bean on the surface and licked the coffee powder, I expect the cream cheese and boozy sponge to come next in a tiramisu but they don't materialise here. What you get is a jolly decent big coffee stout, untroubled by lactose or brown sugar. I like that. It tastes serious, grown up, and un-fucked-about-with. If you were looking for a stout that actually tastes like tiramisu the way the S'mores one last month tasted of s'mores then you'll be disappointed, but you deserve that. This is punchy, dry and stimulating; a real, how you say, pick-me-up.

Neither beer is perfect, but both kept me happy all through drinking them. Is this Ireland's best dark-beer brewery? Lineman might be up for the challenge but the wolf still leads the pack.

Running dogs

Today it's one of my occasional glances at some of the many BrewDog beers coming and going on the local market at the moment. There's no particular pattern to the selection.

Pale Ale is first. Wot no adolescent garage band name? This is a recent addition to their core range, sorry, "Headliners", replacing the rightfully much-derided Indie from a couple of years back. This, too, is 4.2% ABV but it brings a proper hop game, with Chinook, Citra and Simcoe. It's a reasonably clear pale amber and has a decent level of thickness on the palate; not watery and with just enough fizz to propel the hop fun. The aroma is lightly spritzy; inviting without being loud, while the flavour neatly combines cloudy lemonade and grapefruit juice with a danker funky side, but also some juicy mango and peach. It's complex enough to keep this beer nerd interested, while also easy-going, unfussy and well suited to by-the-pint drinking. Not very rock 'n' roll, but solidly decent.

I didn't know what to expect from Jagged Edge "spiky India Pale Ale" but the name and description intrigued me. It's 5.1% ABV and in the glass it's almost clear, hazed up a little with floaty bits. The aroma is mild but pleasantly tropical, in a non-committal way. It commits on tasting but I'm not entirely sure what to. The tropical fruit is there to an extent, in contravention of the can's "to the bitter end" promise. Rather than bitter it's dry -- the intense tannins of over-stewed and undrinkable tea. Then there's kind of a sulphurous rubbery twang on the end: too much boing to be spiky. Whatever new vista of beer flavour they were trying to unlock with this one, it hasn't quite worked. It's all just a bit busy, with the soft fruity hops and the hard acidic ones pulling in opposite directions. You'd be better off with Punk.

Speaking of which, the latest brand extension of the brewery's flagship is Double Punk. Kind of amazing it's taken this long. 8.2% ABV is pretty standard for one of these, and I'm deliberately not going to go comparing it to Punk even though it has the same hops or whatever. Appearance-wise it looks identical to Jagged Edge, floaty bits and all. The aroma is pure American grapefruit: what I would regard as the epitome of classic west-coast hopping. It carries that through to the flavour, presenting dry and acidic on the tongue, with just a buzz of dank resins in the background to offer some complexity. I enjoyed how straightforward it was: big hops, no messing.  It's very clean for the strength too, and although it's quite weighty and built for sipping, it's not hot. The only thing that really slows you down is the bitterness. And if you can't handle that then you shouldn't have chosen a double IPA.

I do like a sour IPA so wasn't going to pass on Fake Empire, badged as a hazy version of same. It's not too cloudy; translucent rather than opaque. The aroma is juicy satsuma, with a hint of tartness, but no more than you'd expect from an actual citrus fruit. The flavour is clean and, yes, juicy again. Technically it's sour, I suppose, but very gently so. If the intention was simply to accentuate the hop-fruit effect, then that worked. There's a pinch of lemon zest with the orange, but it's still only a light bitterness. Overall, this is balanced, accessible and very drinkable, if unnecessarily strong at 6.2% ABV. While I enjoyed it, I prefer sour IPAs to have more of a bite than was on offer here. Juice fiends will lap it up, however.

A big stout to finish: Layer Cake. This is 7% ABV and sports a huge sticky pink marshmallow flavour, with a soft texture to match. Chocolate brownie, cocoa nibs and vanilla are also promised but there's really not much chocolate in here, and zero stout for that matter. I searched for nuance: some roast, a little coffee? No, just the vanilla beans, adding a different kind of sweetness. This is a pure gimmicky novelty and barely a beer. Thankfully it's not very thick, which goes some way to keep the cloying side in check, but it's still not easy going. A full can would be a big ask. I'm OK with silly dessert beers when they're fun, but this wasn't even that. Hard pass.

What have we learned? BrewDog is still out there even if they're not in the beer headlines every day. And they still brew some very decent beers, alongside a spirit of experimentation that doesn't always hit the mark.

Squash tournament

It's Halloween tomorrow, and Ireland has a new pumpkin beer: White Hag Samhain Pumpkin Ale, challenging Trouble Pumpkin Brew's dominance of the sector. For the curséd year that's in it, Trouble has canned theirs for the first time. I opted to take the Pepsi challenge and sample them blind side-by-side.

Both are orange. One is hazy with little head, the other a clear amber with a handsome thick foam topping. The hazy one smells powerfully sweet, all brown sugar, treacle, yams and banana-on-the-turn. The other is much more subtle, with a gentle autumnal spice. Though they're occupying the same space, it's obvious from the get-go these are very different beers.

I took my first sip from the clear one, finding it clean and lagery, to the point of seeming plain. As in the aroma it's just lightly spiced; a modest amount of novelty, but ultimately a sessionable drinking beer first. The soupy chap, then, is like drinking Halloween candy. Add butterscotch, soft caramel and milk chocolate to the list of types of sugar it conjures. Though the texture isn't very thick, there's a certain booze heat, making me think this is the stronger of the pair. It's certainly my least favourite, lacking the spices I like and just too damn sweet. If you want something silly for the Halloween party you're definitely not having, this works.

It wasn't difficult to guess that the hot sugar-bomb was White Hag's 6.2% ABV beast, while the subtly spiced lager-like was Trouble. Obviously pumpkin beers are never to be taken seriously, but Trouble really bring an art to the silliness, creating something balanced, drinkable, and just a damn good beer, all novelty aside. But if you're in it solely for the gimcrack candy, there's an option for that now too.

Nothing fancy

Spare a thought for poor old red ale, the most unloved of Ireland's "traditional" beer styles, at least by the latter-day craft movement. Presumably people are still buying them out there because even small breweries will occasionally brew them. I have two such for you this autumn day.

In a very-craft 440ml can comes Renegade from Dublin City Brewing, the second Irish beer to use the name, after Soulwater's American-style amber a few years back. It's a suitably middle-of-the-road session-strength 4.2% ABV and a pleasingly limpid dark garnet colour. It's mostly quite dry, almost roasty but not quite. Overdone sticky caramel is the bane of this style but it's successfully avoided here. Stopping it from being boring is a floral complexity: a violet and elderflower perfume; as well as a dusting of flaky milk chocolate. More of these features would be welcome but the underlying gravity just isn't big enough for anything more than a quick burst before it fades out into watery disappointment. This is designed for quaffing, and I threw back my glassful with ease. There's the makings of a quality sipper here, however, if they ever decided to imperialise it a little.

To compare and contrast, Heaney Irish Red, only a little bit stronger at 4.5% ABV. It's part of the bottled core-range of Heaney beer, along with a Blonde and a Stout, both of which I've enjoyed. It's a deep ruby red in the glass, and a little murky with it. The yeasty lees provide a spice to the aroma. The flavour goes big on burnt, in the best possible way: a crunch of caramelised sugar and a wisp of smoke. After an initial sweetness the finish is clean and dry, and not too soon. This is a class act; a wholesome roasted Sunday joint in a glass; perfect winter drinking that doesn't have to blow your head. Once again, Heaney has delivered a safe middle-of-the-road beer that's far from boring: the classical elegance that German brewers turn out effortlessly but which is less common here.

Neither of these are dull predictable Smithwick's clones: both bring a unique sensibility to the Irish red genre and offer the punter something of real interest. The dark and moody stylings of Heaney was my preference over Dublin City's brighter, sweeter take.

Nitro The Living Dead

It's another grand array of Colorado beers for you today (I did Odell a few weeks ago) and this time Left Hand is the brewery bringing the goods.

We'll begin with the basic styles, and a pilsner kicks off proceedings, one called 1265. It's on the strong side at 5.2% ABV but looks light: a limpid white-gold shade. There's a faint lemon aroma and the flavour, too, is citrussy in a very new-world way. This is no faithful recreation of anything Czech or German. It's fine, though. While the alcohol is high, it still comes across light and easy-going, which is a valid way to approach pils. Needs more Saaz, however.

The companion pale ale is called Colorful Colorado, 5.6% ABV and a hazy orange, but not quite opaque: brewed to look unfiltered, not unfinished. It smells of orange candy and the flavour is very much a throwback to old-school APA. To explain, there's a heavy crystal malt sweetness giving it a toffee and caramel base, and then a seam of sharp grapefruit running through this. It's not balanced, exactly, but the contrast is pleasing, with the hops gradually rising to dominate by the end. This is almost quaint in how it's put together, and while it's not very exciting, it's a reminder of happier, gentler, more grapefruit-forward times.

Before we fire up the fancy gas, a porter on straight CO2. It's called Death Before Disco and is 6% ABV. "A full bodied classic with rich chocolate malt and dark berry notes" says the can, and I wish I hadn't read that before starting to drink, because yes it is full-bodied, and yes it does taste of chocolate and yes there are dark berry notes too. What's left for me to say? Well... the berry has a touch of black cherry about it, and there's an almondy marzipan paste quality as well. There's a substantial edge of roast coffee around the chocolate as well, bringing a balancing dryness. The finish is a bit of a let-down as none of the complexity builds, just clearing off the palate instead: I prefer something this strong to hang around longer, for improved sippability. Overall, though, it's very decent. A solid and unfussy porter with just the right level of complexity.

"Your nitro passport to paradise" sounds like a threat, but that's the actual strapline for Gettin' Tiki With It "piña colada wheat". It's been around since the spring, there was a lot left over, it was cheap, and that's my excuse, your honour. Wheat beer with pineapple, coconut and lactose: OK fine, but 7.5% ABV? That seems excessive. A hard pour yielded a mildly hazy glassful of spun gold, topped with a sturdy hockey puck of cream.

The aroma gives little away -- because nitro -- and the flavour is very muted too. The coconut is most apparent, its oily sweetness not dependent on carbonation to push it out. Beyond that, just a vague sickly blandness, not at all different to nitrogenated pale English bitter, like the zombie horror Boddington's has become. I can say officially I am not tiki with it. The blandness means it's inoffensive and I think the alcoholic power is about the best thing going for it: it's still easy drinking despite that. But this looks like an attempt to do something complex and fun, completely undermined by the decision to use novelty gas. Not a beer for beer-drinkers.

I expected better things from the next nitro can, Hard Wired. It's a coffee porter and it's hard to go too far wrong there, even when pumping it full of unnatural gas. The coffee aroma escapes the pillowy head, smelling fresh and sweet, like a latte or frappucino. There's an edge of roasted bean in the flavour, a sprinkling of brown sugar, but that's your lot. I'm sure there's a decent, solid porter under there, but the nitro and coffee have buried it. The creamy texture makes this sweet coffee feel like it has too much milk in it. I was very surprised to discover that despite the coffee kick there is absolutely no aftertaste once the initial effect fades. Weird. That at least makes it, again, easy and unchallenging to to drink. It's not a bad beer, but very one-dimensional.

We finish on a 10.2% ABV nitro monster: Wake Up Dead. This one does the best impression of draught nitro beer, the pale-beige cream making me actually nostalgic for pints of stout in the pub. The deadening effect of nitrogen on flavour helps conceal the alcohol here, making for some dangerously easy drinking this time. I wonder if that's deliberate, attracting a crowd that wants macho strong beer but can't usually handle the hot sharp edges? And there is a proper old-school imperial stout under here, with a decent level of leafy bitterness. Some sharply roasted espresso arrives after that, not too loud but definitely present. It's good but, once again, take away the nitro and it could be superb.

It was always going to be tough for Left Hand to convince me that adding nitrogen is any kind of enhancement of their beers, and I should note that I know how much skill goes into it, having tasted the results from other breweries who haven't been so successful nitrogenating their own packaged beers. I'll just say that beer is better off without it, and leave it there.

You are not alone

Beer Hut is the brewery under the microscope today, beginning with two from their Solo Series of single-hop beers. At €6 for a 44cl of 6% ABV, neither was particularly cheap, but are they good value?

First up is one of my favourite hops, Mosaic. I had plenty of time to enjoy the strong weedy aroma because of all the foam and the ages it took to pour. Beneath the beehive of froth it's pale yellow and fully opaque. From the first sip I could tell they've really packed the hops in here. For one thing it's thick and slick and resinous, feeling saturated. The tropical, mango/passionfruit effect that Mosaic does best is concentrated into a paste or jam, and it's up to you whether such an extreme effect is a feature or a bug. I enjoyed the intensity. Mosaic's nasty caraway side is also present, but muted under the sheer weight of everything else. It's possible to ignore it, and I did. And then the finish brings back the ganja resins present in the aroma. Not something I associate with Mosaic, but it fits well in this bruiser. Regarding the beer as a beer rather than a sensory experiment, it's rather good. It's slick and weighty, delivering what one might expect from a double IPA at a lower strength. €6 doesn't seem like such a bad deal.

With Mosaic being such a workout, I was trepidatious going into Simcoe, a hop that doesn't hold back even when used sparingly. This one was a bit more mannerly to pour, arriving the same custardy colour but with less head. The aroma is surprisingly similar: that mix of concentrated tropical fruit and green oily resins. The flavour certainly rolls back on the fruit, but doesn't replace it with much. There's an added spicing -- nutmeg in particular -- but none of the hard acid and resin I was expecting. It's actually quite a cuddly little fellow, with plenty of soft New England vibes. The Simcoe hardmen will be disappointed but I enjoyed its gentle lemon sorbet vibes.

Moving on from the Solos, we have a Mixtape to finish on, the mix being Chinook, Citra and Mosaic. London Fog yeast means it's hazy again: the same yellow shade. Although the aroma is fruity too, it is more complex than in the others, showing lemon pith, mango flesh and garlic oil. There's lots of candied lemon peel and lemonade in the foretaste, getting gradually sweeter as it goes, bringing peachy stonefruit, before finishing dankly. A great deal is going on here, and again a heavy texture gives it plenty of room to happen in. I was therefore shocked to discover, half way through, that it's a mere 4% ABV. In texture and intensity it's not noticeably different from the 6%-ers above. Overall, an excellent light take on hazy IPA which doesn't compromise on hop wallop.

So here's Beer Hut, giving the hop lovers what they want. I respect their commitment to piling them in while also managing to turn out very drinkable beer at the other end.

Brazilians bringing New England to Waterford

A tidy little pair from Hopfully today, 33cl cans sporting their new clean-but-weird artwork.

Insideout is first, 5% ABV and telling us nothing more about it on the can. Well, nothing much. It doesn't says it's hazy (it should) but the inclusion of oats on the ingredients is a clue. Turns out it's full-on New England: the opaque colour of orange juice and smelling of satsumas, vanilla and garlic. The flavour has a certain amount of pleasant juice, particularly in the finish, but there's a sharp savoury bite up front that I don't care for. There's a fair measure of dank resins in the middle too, providing balance of a sort. It's nearly a very good example of the hazy pale ale style, and those who like their pale ales fluffy and sweet will find much to enjoy here. That caraway pinch up front (that you Mosaic?) spoiled it just a little for me, however.

Spoonerising low-quality gose, the companion IPA is called Shinebright. It's a medium orange-to-yellow, and opaque again: another crypto-New-Englander, perhaps? Again, the can doesn't tell us what the hops are, which I'm starting to think is a fault in hop-forward beers like this. That said, it's not saturated and the flavours are quite subtle. There's a gentle orange and lemon vibe; cool and summery, suggesting long drinks under parasols: quite an achievement for the dark and damp October night on which I drank it. Despite a full 6% ABV, it manages to stay light, crisp and clean; easy to drink with no alcohol burn or sharp hop-acid edges. Fans of the big vanilla-and-garlic bombs might decry it as bland, but I really enjoyed its understated complexity.

Conclusions? Sometimes hazy pale ales are good and sometimes they're not so good? But you knew that already.