GB Brews

Post two of Boxtravaganza 2021 lumps together everything from Britain on an arbitrary basis. Let's see what the neighbours are up to these days. 

I was excited to see new Edinburgh brewery Newbarns represented with their Pilsner. This no-nonsense brewer of classic continental styles has been getting good notices and sounds right up my street. The pils is 4.2% ABV, perfectly clear and a very pale yellow. Immediate points off for head retention, that vanished disturbingly quick. The hops are Callista, a relatively new German variety. There's an almost funky, farmish quality to the aroma, a concentrated damp greenness. Nothing so loud in the flavour, however. It's pleasingly crisp, with a snap of cream cracker and gently lemony afters. And that's it. It's astonishingly clean finishing with pretty much no aftertaste. I think I would prefer a little more character, but as an easy-going sessioner I could very happily sink a few pints of this.

From pilsner to witbier, Zomba is next, brewed at Round Corner in Melton Mowbray. It's not fully traditional, including lavender in the recipe. It looks normal, though: hazy yellow; fluffy white head. There's a peppery spice to the aroma with a hint of bathroom cabinet suggesting the lavender beginning to come through. That really takes control on tasting with big perfume and bathsalts balanced by a juicy orange sweetness. At 5.2% ABV it's only slightly stronger than a typical wit but the flavour is much louder, more intense, and runs the risk of turning cloying. This is certainly not a casual refresher and it took me a while to get through it -- very much a bold craft take on the style. It's fine but I'm not sure it's an improvement.

Time was I'd class "mojito sour" as another unusual style but Thornbridge's Kuba isn't even the first I've had from a northern English brewer. They've laid the mint on pretty heavily in this one, present alongside a hint of mineral tartness in the aroma but very much taking the lead in the flavour, both the initial hit and the long menthol finish. I suspect the brewery hasn't used any lime, perhaps relying on the hops to bring the citrus, but they don't. The only ingredients listing on the can is in German and it doesn't mention lime, nor mint either, oddly. There is a clean and tart beer at the centre, and it does its job of being a 4.5% ABV refresher, but it's nowhere near as complex as a cocktail name implies.

And so to the IPAs. The other Scottish representative, and entirely new to me, was Overtone, with a New England job called Love Your Local -- a shout-out to the businesses that kept them ticking through The Unpleasantness. It is extremely pale, the wan brassy shade of pineapple juice. I expected a big kick from the hops as none of Rakau, Simcoe and Galaxy are shy and retiring. Sure enough the aroma is an insanely strong funky, savoury buzz, like long-fermented silage and hot sparks of flint. The flavour goes all out for dryness, an extreme sort of sesame paste with added chalk dust and oily sage. "Earthy undertones" says the label but they're far from undertones, leaving no room for the promised peach, passionfruit and apricot. This is the opposite of juicy and was probably sucking juice from the other cans in the fridge. While I appreciated its boldness and uniqueness of character, it's not my sort of thing at all. Rakau and I don't usually get on, and this is a prime example of why.

By way of contrast, Cloudwater follows that with a self-avowedly "clean and bright" IPA named Volley. It certainly looks it, a fully transparent lagerish gold. The aroma gives little away; maybe a hint of stonefruit and some oatmeal biscuit, but that's it for the nose. At 6% ABV there's a considerable body; almost chewy. I had hoped for crispness but that's not how it rolls. The flavour shows a little of the savoury quality found in the previous beer, though thankfully there are other things going on too. A classic C-hop lime peel bitterness is one feature, and there's a herbal side too: rosemary and dill. The malt beneath is softly spoken, contributing a little candy and cake, but staying out of the way of the promised clean finish. There's no gimmickry here, nor chasing of trends, not even the retro west coast revival. This is a weighty yet balanced hop-forward construction; a calm demonstration of a brewery that doesn't need to shout or pull silly tricks to make itself heard.

One In, All In is a rugby-themed grand collaboration, organised by Siren but with input from White Hag, Fyne Ales and Welsh brewery Lines. It's a red IPA of 6.5% ABV and a very dark shade of copper in the glass. The aroma is a very broad mix of hop effects: dankness, citrus and a fair whack of husky dry savouriness. I was expecting more malt sweetness but had to wait for the flavour to get that. It's not the usual big toffee thing but a more subtle fruit salad vibe, blending seamlessly with the hops. There's a lightness of touch that you don't get from most cloying and sticky red IPAs; I enjoyed the refreshing, juicy honeydew and white grape effect. The savoury aroma remains off-putting all the way through, but hold your nose and it's bob on.

And we're back to the haze with Pressure Drop and 150 Friends which is 6.8% ABV and uses Citra, Ekuanot and BRU-1. The aroma is flamboyantly juicy, with the intense sweetness of passionfruit coming out in particular, plus more than a little pineapple and mango too. In a rare occurrence, two out of these three analogues is also mentioned on the can, alongside papaya. Maybe I don't eat enough papaya to spot it. But while it smells like tropical breakfast juice, the flavour is more restrained. For one thing, the alcohol takes the lead and there's almost a weighty liqueur feel in the foretaste where I expected a happy juice explosion. The tropical side arrives later and it's escorted by a scowling citrus bitterness and a certain fuzzy grittiness. Bitter grit is what you're left with on the fade out. It's still pretty good overall, just not as fun as I was initially led to believe. Plaudits for that aroma, though.

#passiondelivered via our friends at Cloudwater is presumably Rock Leopard telling us in the wankiest way possible that their beer is contract brewed at Cloudwater. I wasn't off to a good start with Type Here To Search, a west coast IPA. It looked to be pouring nicely at first too, pale and clear, before the sediment clouded it up in an un-west-coast way. The aroma is harsh and flinty, formed of Chinook, Loral and Simcoe hops. My apprehension deepened. That mineral quality carries through to the flavour which is slightly metallic; a kind of zinc-like galvanic tang. Balance of a sort is provided by a sickly orange cordial effect. No zest, no zing. It's 6.8% ABV but feels stronger, almost syrupy, with considerable heat. I get an impression that they've aimed for crisp and clean IPA but ended up with a barley wine instead. The flavours aren't jarring or unpleasant, more that there aren't enough of them; it's just a big boozy lump. Takes one to know one, I suppose. Moving on...

Just the one stout in this set. Solitude from Left Handed Giant brings us to the 7% ABV mark and is brewed with coffee, hazelnut, vanilla and lactose. There's no mistaking that from the aroma: it's a very dessertish affogato effect. I thought the coffee would bring a little balancing roasted bitterness to the flavour but I was mistaken. It is a nightmare of pure sweetness; painfully so. My jaw hurt from the first sip. The can gives us full details of the coffee used but that's a waste of time because the lactose and vanilla utterly smother it, with the hazelnut (syrup?) yelling hyperactively too. Nobody would dream of showing off a specific variety of coffee by serving it with all this gunk in it so I don't understand what the brewery is up to. There's a little bit of wafery dryness on the finish which means it doesn't gum up the palate completely but that's small consolation. I've had lots of messy stouts like this before and they do not impress.

Last on the list is a double IPA from Verdant: The Future Is Uncertain. It's a very hazy one, a typical opaque orange-yellow. An all-Kiwi hop lineup had me expecting lots of grass and minerals but it's very juicy all through: tangerine and satsuma featuring big in the aroma, while the flavour is a little more of a complex fruit salad, incorporating some of Nelson Sauvin's white grape in with the pygmy oranges. There's a slight herbal quality in the aftertaste, but nothing more involved than a pinch of spearmint. The texture is relatively light and there's a respectable, and respectful, amount of alcohol on display. I really enjoyed this, particularly how bright and clean the flavours are, devoid of mucky fuzz or savoury twangs. The end result is happy and sunny. This is one for other brewers to take note of: please make your hazy double IPAs like this. For me.

I guess that's an appropriately-named beer to finish on. The normal Hagstravaganza festival almost happened this year so it's reasonably likely it will be back in 2022. Stay out of those Chinese wet markets in the meantime, just to be safe.

It's a box social!

The White Hag tried really hard to get their birthday festival running again as normal for 2021 but couldn't quite manage it through no fault of their own, so instead of Hagstravaganza 4 we got Boxtravaganza 2, marking seven years in business for the Sligo brewery. That entailed a box of 24 beers from themselves and their mates, and a rare opportunity to drink cross-sectionally and internationally, just like at their festival. Here's the first tranche of what was in the box and new to me.

We begin light, with a Summer Ale from Canediguerra in Piedmont. It eases us in with 4% ABV and a sunny, hazy blonde colour. The aroma is certainly summery, all bright and juicy mandarin, while the flavour is gentle and subtle: orangey fruit, yes, but not overly sweet and kept refreshing by the light texture. There is just a tiny hint of earthy, dreggy bittering in the finish but nothing too dramatic or upsetting. This is bright and and happy fare; undemanding but far from boring. Bang on for summer.

Logistical annoyances meant there was but one American beer in the set, thanks I'm sure to the heroes at Grand Cru. It probably helped that it was a wild ale rather than a freshly fragile IPA. Sierra Nevada Estate Farmhouse Ale is one of a number of beers created from ingredients the brewery grows itself (funny how the label bigs up how special this is when there are several breweries on this island who do it as a matter of course). It crackled as it poured so I had to snap quickly to include the fast-disappearing head in my photo. Beneath it is a clear honey-coloured ale of 6.3% ABV, spontaneously fermented and wine-barrel aged, so I guess we're in Belgian territory. It smells rather sticky, like sweet white wine or bad strong lager. The flavour continues that to an extent; definitely sweet and not sour, with merely a brisk tartness running behind the sugar. More than anything it reminds me of faro, the sugar-sweetened lambic blend, and I can't help wanting to clear the extraneous syrup away to get at the pure sour beer underneath. The wine side contributes oak, mostly, with a touch of Chardonnay butter in the aftertaste. It's certainly interesting, and I've never tasted anything quite like it, but I think it's trying to do too much. Calm that sweetness down, ferment it out, and it could be a much better beer.

The second in White Hag's Duo Series is El Dorado & Cascade. Pale golden, clear and 5.5% ABV. The fun and tropical side of El Dorado has control of the aroma, and is most pronounced in the flavour too. The Starburst fruit candy effect is very much the distinguishing feature, to the point where I'm wondering what the Cascade was supposed to contribute. It's not bitter, or earthy or grapefruity. It's a perfectly decent beer, though, and if the brewers learned something useful from the experiment then that's to the good.

For the third year running there's a hazy IPA especially brewed for the festival, and this iteration of Hopstravaganza sees the ABV boosted to 7.7% to mark the brewery's seventh birthday. The aroma is sweetly juicy, with mandarin in particular, and this turns to peach and lychee on tasting. That alcohol is deftly concealed and the beer is dangerously easy to drink as a result, almost resembling a fruity soft drink with its light body and busy sparkle. Here's another happy, sunny beer, perfect for a celebration.

Speaking of which, Milan's Lambrate marks 25 years in the business via Atomic, an IPA of 6.2% ABV with Mosaic, Chinook, Citra and Simcoe: all those classic Americans. It's a medium gold colour with a touch of haze but not hazy as such. It smells of fruit candy, sweetly citric with a kind of artificial tropicality. I was afraid that it wouldn't turn out as west-coast as I'd hoped, but on tasting there's a very pleasant balance of the sweet malt and hoppy high notes with a bitterer resin and citrus. The end result is easy drinking and just complex enough to stay interesting. Anniversary beers are often loud attention-seekers; this one is gentle, relaxing and fun. Maybe the alcohol level is a little overdone, and the flavour complexity could have been rendered at a few points below. I won't quibble, however. The hops are shown off beautifully and cleanly, that's quite enough for me thank you. Happy birthday Lambrate!

It's back to the oul sod next and Boundary's Imbongirific, an 8% ABV double IPA take on their hazy IPA Imbongo. This is the opaque yellow of pineapple juice, in keeping with its claim to be "tropical". I found the aroma a little harsh, with an unpleasant twang of solvent in with a concentrated fruit syrup. In the flavour that translates to a smoky, iodine seaweed savouriness, very much not tropical and decidedly north-Atlantic to my palate. I looked behind that for fruit but found little, with an oily coconut the most tropical part, and an artificial mango/passionfruit syrup or cordial. I don't think it was infected, just that combination of hops, malt weight and New England yeast by-products didn't suit me. Despite the name it's quite a serious beer though one I didn't relish taking time over.

Let's see how the Danes fare in the same space. Alefarm's Inferno In Paradise is also 8% ABV and yellow and hazy, but just a little darker. It certainly smells cleaner, though with a spicy effervescent sherbet kick rather than sweet and juicy. "Embrace the unknown" says the label, but also tells us that Citra and Amarillo are the hops, which is nice of it. The booze kicks in from the first sip and it immediately feels a little soupy. There's no spark of hops, no zing, just smooth marmalade and sticky cocktail syrup. Where did the sherbet go? It's pretty average, all in all -- an uninspired sort of strong New England IPA. It would be easy to believe that everything of this nature tastes like this but there are so many of them about that I know that's not the case. This box alone gave me a very broad outlook on the sub-style, which is one of the most gratifying parts of letting someone else pick one's beers.

I don't get access to decent French beer anywhere near as much as I'd like so it was good to see Piggy representing. Galaxy Cartel is the beer, a double New England IPA of 8.2% ABV. It's a very bright yellow in the glass; a minimal yolk to its egginess. The aroma is very typical for this sort of thing: vanilla and garlic for the most part. Would the titular hop get a look-in? A little. There's a tang of marmalade in the foretaste which says Galaxy to me, and includes both the sugary jelly and a more acidic shred side. But that's it as regards individual characteristics. Beyond it we're back to ordinary alium and custard, with a dry chalkiness from the haze. All of these effects are buoyed up and intensified by that hefty ABV. The end result is something that haze enthusiasts will doubtless be all over; for my part I'd prefer a cleaner beer, and I know that's possible, even within the strong and hazy genre.

And finally, the Hungarian Mad Scientists are back with another daft dessert beer, this time an apricot-flavoured 10% ABV job called Rákóczi Túrós, named for a sort of cream cheese and sponge cake which you can Google pictures of if you wish. In the glass it's an innocent hazy sunset colour but the aroma is very dessert: all that jammy processed apricot and sugar thing with elements of vanilla and eggy cake mix. It's super thick and there's a reminder here that its a beer. As it slowly crawls its way across your palate it delivers a dry cracker grain flavour plus a slightly funky resinous bitterness, though finishing on sweet, possibly botrytised, white wine. Despite the name, this isn't one of those beers trying to pretend it's not a beer. That isn't to say it's any good, however. The beer side is sharp and difficult, and is followed by an intensely cloying sugar syrup thing, like drinking a lurid confectionery ingredient that isn't meant to be consumed raw and was probably made illegal in 1987. At no point was I able to relax into this or get used to its idiosyncrasies: it's an absolute assault on the palate and isn't very enjoyable as a result. the Mad Scientists should have left it in the lab.

Looking back, it's not a great starting set, and I'm not sure it's at all representative of the state of beer these days. Let's see if the next post can balance the scorecard any.

After the hops of summer have gone

It's time for another round-up of pale ales from Irish breweries, this lot covering releases from the tail end of summer 2021. One of them even came in a pint glass in a pub!

But we'll begin in Lidl. Brehon has rebranded five of its core range beers as "The Kavanagh Collection" with labels paying tribute to the curmudgeonly Monaghan poet and his best-known works. Among them is Fair Day, an edition of their Seisiún pale ale, which I've never had. It is/they are a mere 3.5% ABV with Citra and Mosaic the hops. It's a fizzy devil, taking me a few goes to get it carefully poured into the pint glass. In there it's a rich-looking rose gold colour, and perfectly clear with it. The promised passionfruit and mango is right there in the aroma, with a drier biscuit malt behind it. That dryness is mostly in charge of the flavour, and particularly in the foretaste, accentuated with a flinty mineral spice. It's clean, thirst quenching, but not very interesting, like a mid-tier English bitter. Something more fun happens in the finish where the tropical fruit reappears in candy chew form adding just the right amount of complexity for a low-gravity sessioner. The mouthfeel also manages to escape thinness by the barest amount. Brehon do pop out the odd cask from time to time and this would be ideally suited, I think.

A Heliocentric Orbit takes us up to 4% ABV courtesy of Metalman's new session IPA, the fourth in their retro-future-branded Galactic Voyager series. It smells very orangey, like fresh jaffa segments or bitty Orangina. This is from a combination of El Dorado, Hallertau Blanc and Citra hops, which strikes me as an excellent combination for getting both pith and juiciness. The flavour bears that out, though it makes you wait for the juicy zing; before it there's a very sharp bitterness to get the mouth watering, turning almost waxy and hard before giving way in the finish to the candy-chew fruit fun. That too fades after a moment and it's back to a severe acidity for the lingering aftertaste. This is no easy quaffer, and a high level of carbonation doesn't make it any easier. That said, it has its charms: big bold flavours in a small package definitely has a place.

For Molloy's, The Porterhouse has created a post-pandemic tribute beer to, well, everyone: there's a long list of the parties to whom they're grateful on the back, and the beer itself is called Thanks! It's a sessionable 4.2% ABV and clear spun-gold colour. The aroma offers bitter grapefruit with some herbal, mineral, bathbomb complexities. The complexities disappear from the flavour and the crisply sharp grapefruit is in the ascendant, turning waxy and grassy in the finish. I guessed correctly that Cascade was involved but suspected the presence of something German which turned out to be actually done with Simcoe and Ekuanot. The texture is smooth and full with no wateriness and the whole thing is refreshing and easy drinking once you get used to the powerful bitterness. It's always nice to have something high quality and distinctly old-school in these run-downs.

They're a bunch of good sports over at Britvic, and seemingly have given Rascals permission to create an official Club Rock Shandy Pale Ale on a strictly limited basis. It's 4.5% ABV and goes the New England route to create the base sweetness, adding orange and lemon, of course. I'm generally sceptical about these novelty beers designed to taste like something else, but honestly this one really does get there. Up front it's pure zest, the cloudy, bit-laden quality of Club Orange and Lemon (I should note that because I'm from the 1970s I refuse to recognise the validity of pre-mixed Rock Shandy). Under the initial citrus there's an entirely complementary soft pale ale, sweet to offset the fruit acidity while also tasting of actual bitterly oily hops. This is designed to be fun and absolutely nails it. Perhaps the recipe could be quietly repurposed without Britvic noticing.

Lough Gill has done another of its sparsely-branded monochrome cans for Aldi. Paddle is a light IPA at 4.7% ABV and single-hopped with Citra. A golden colour, it's lightly hazy in the glass. Oats are included in the grist but it no more than nods to New England, with the added body giving it substance but that's it: no vanilla or garlic or whatnot. Instead there's a pleasing kick of lime, in both the bitter fruit and dry alkali sense. Only in the finish is there a mild dose of watery thinness but by that point you've had your fun and that's all that matters. For a supermarket cheapie this is fine fare.

Six beers in and we're only now hitting 5% ABV: everyone has been taking it very handy this summer. Hazy in Love is the one to bring us over the line, a new addition to the core range at Rascals. First impression: it's not all that hazy, being a thin-looking translucent orange. The aroma is strangely savoury: wholegrain toast and bitter herbs; nothing about it says hops, juicy or otherwise. I was both intrigued and apprehensive going in to taste. That revealed a beer very much not for me. The grainy thing I picked up in the aroma is central to the flavour, dry and husky, leaving an acrid burn in the back of my throat. A stale and funky sweatiness sits alongside and does absolutely nothing to help. I just about managed to pick up a little orangeade sweetness, but not much of it at all. Rascals doesn't normally drop the ball on flavours this way (see two beers up) so I'm quite prepared to believe I'm missing some receptors that make it a more normal-tasting hazy IPA. Either way, I think it'll be a while before I give this one another go.

We return to more traditional programming with Black's of Kinsale's Wild Atlantic Way, an avowed west coast IPA though only 5.2% ABV. It's Sculpin/Pliny-pale but hazy with it. Am I weird for thinking "west coast" should always mean clear? The aroma is quite east-coast sweet too, though candy chews rather than sticky vanilla so all is not lost. For all my concerns about its west coast credentials it is beautifully clean-flavoured, almost like a lager. It's neither classic citrus-bitter nor juicy-tropical sweet, but somewhere in the middle and it works brilliantly. I was prepared for something severe but this is gentle, accessible and very tasty: fresh pineapple and grapefruit on a cream cracker base. Complex it's not, but it is very enjoyable and perhaps better built for pints than tiddly cans.

I got a late blast of summer from Sullivan's 2021 Summer Ale, a 5.5%-er, amber gold with a thick and lasting head and hopped with an Anglo-American combination of First Gold and Amarillo. The aroma is very much that of an English golden ale, earthy and floral with a hint of lemon zest. Vienna malt is mentioned on the label too and I guess that's what provides the sweet richness that's at the centre of the flavour: no light and easy drinking beer-garden quaffer here. The chewy malt biscuit is spiced up with candied lemon and pink bubblegum. There's a little bit of dryness in the finish, but I think it could do with more. As is, it's a little unbalanced in favour of the big malt. At least it'll still be well suited for drinking when the nights begin to draw in.

The White Hag has a new pale ale series. Following on from the Union Series single-hoppers come the Duo Series: two hops at a time. I'm not sure that has the same educational potential but let's see what the beer is like. First up is Idaho 7 & Citra and it's 5.5% ABV. I guess the malt side has been kept out of the picture as much as possible as it's a pale yellow, with a little haze. The aroma is a gorgeous tangy tropical candy thing, a pic 'n' mix of Tangfastics, Starburst and other fruity, zesty fun items. It's a bit more grown up to taste, with a fruitcake mix of orange peel and sultanas. That finishes quite quickly, without living up to the promise of the jolly aroma. Citra's token punch is well padded-out, leaving with only a gentle tap of lime oil in the finish. As a refreshing pale ale to throw back it's very pleasant; as a sensory education, I'm less convinced. There'll be more from the Duo Series later in the week when I take a look at this year's Boxtravaganza offerings.

Clancy's Cans #6 is Ballykilcavan's contribution to today's set. It's an Australian style IPA, and for some reason I always expect these to be orange in colour. Maybe it's because Galaxy hops taste of orange, or maybe it's because the example I've drank most -- Boyne Brewhouse Born In A Day -- was pretty orange. Anyway, Clancy Sextus doesn't disappoint: it's dense looking and very, very orange. With the Galaxy they've employed Vic Secret and Ella, in quantity, it seems. There's the concentrated leafy hop bitterness of a sample straight from the conditioning tank; harshly sharp in both the aroma and flavour. Getting past that, there is indeed the sweet and oily jaffa I associate with Galaxy, and a herbal bitterness from Vic Secret. These are set on a heavy base: 5.6% ABV but feeling like more. The whole thing is hard work. I can't shake the feeling that it's unfinished and needs to attenuate out more, and drop bright more. The fresh bang from those hops can't be argued with, but that's not enough on its own.

TwoSides normally pops out the easy sessionable pale ales but has thrown some malt weight into the latest, the 6% ABV Shiny Hoppy People. It was wonderful to be back in 57 The Headline to try it on draught as intended. It's your standard hazy orange and shows lots of heavy, oily hop dankness. My pint was cold and I got the impression of something that may get a little soupy if allowed warm up. The high notes are savoury rather than fruity, opening on dry sesame seed, before proceeding through zesty citrus to that resin on the end. It's a bit of a workout, and one pint was plenty for me. I think the lighter stuff suits me better.
 
Eight Degrees waited until the second half of the year before starting into their annual limited series. This year it's called Original Gravity beginning on Juicy IPA. Best to get it out of the way, I suppose. First surprise was that it's not hazy, but then nobody said it would be. The aroma isn't particularly juicy either, with Sabro coming in hard and heavy, producing oodles of coconut and pith. The juice arrives on tasting. To start it's nicely full-bodied, feeling all of that 6.5% ABV. Then instead of the pithy bitterness I expected there's a tangy and delightfully realistic mandarin and satsuma effect; sweet without being thick or sugary, and very very juicy. A week after canning this was a joy to drink. I hope it's still as good by the time you get hold of it.

"Crypo Pop™" is the latest blended processed hop product from Yakima Chief and O Brother has put it to the test in a double IPA called It Was All A Dream. It's possible they don't fully trust it as they've added some Idaho 7 too, just to be safe. It's medium hazy by O Brother standards, a dull orange colour rather than bright yellow. The hop merchant promises tropical and stonefruit qualities, and I get a decent amount of that in the aroma here, along with more traditional zesty tangerine. 8% ABV renders it thick and heavy, with a substantial heat, but still on the satisfying-to-drink side of the equation, rather than unpleasantly cloying. That does dampen the hops a little, I think, and shock horror there's even an element of malt in the taste. Hopwise there's a vaguely sweet mix of mandarin, pear, cantaloupe and mango, but nothing especially bright and distinctive. Maybe double IPA isn't the best showcase for trying new ingredients like this. A mild buzz of citric acidity forms the full stop. It's quite nice, but definitely more of a comforting warmer than a hop exhibition.

Only the one double? We'll leave it there so. Perhaps this chronic malt shortage will have been resolved in time for the next round-up.

Two faces of pale

I like that we've got to a stage in Irish brewing where the top tier do more than merely say "here's a lager and a pale ale". We get details, sub-genres, and I'd like to think that's more to do with consumer demand than brewers' boredom. Consumer demand is what will ultimately lead to better beer quality. All of which is a blathery introduction to this lot from Galway Bay Brewery: two pale ales of the hazy New England sort and a self-consciously Czech-style pale lager.

A pale ale called Little Feelings featured in a round-up last May. That turned out to be merely the first in a series of pale ales of the same name, the second of which is brewed with Azacca, Eldorado and Idaho 7 (or "Azaccza" as the front of the can would have it). The ABV drops a little, from 5% to 4.6%, though it's still opaque and bright yellow. I expected sweet and fruity candy from these hops but it's actually quite pithy, with a touch of coconut. If you'd asked me without telling me I'd have sworn that something like Sabro was involved. The low strength makes it easy drinking while the oats prevent it from turning thin. You get your money's worth out of the hops, to the point where it's maybe a little too intense for a session, but one can was good fun.

Little Feelings: Nelson Sauvin was hot on its heels, and the strength is rebalanced with 5.3% ABV this time. Still yellow, but it looks a little less murky to me; translucent rather than opaque. The aroma is subtle, though the ripe lychee funk of Nelson Sauvin is unmistakable in it. The flavour too is thoroughly Nelsonised, starting on a flinty mineral bitterness before proceeding to gooseberry, white grape and a mild guava tropicality. There's a less typical damp-grass effect as well, presumably a throwback to Nelson's German roots. That adds to the overall bitterness and, like with the previous one, the effect slows down my drinking. Though broadly New Englandish neither of these has the smooth vanilla and/or juice that tends to come with haze. I'm not complaining: here is yet another assertive and flavourful expression of Nelson Sauvin from an Irish brewer. I am far from bored with them.

And so to the lager. Bitter Pil is, I think, the first Irish beer to describe itself as "světlý ležák", specifically of the 12º variety. It's a bold claim given the tight strictures under which Czech beer is produced. So... yes to decoction mashing, yes to Saaz hops, yes to a Pilsner Urquell yeast strain, yes to 5% ABV and yes to three months of lagering. Even still that wasn't enough to make it clear so we're very much dealing with the nefiltrovaný sort of thing, with the resulting slightly fuzzy texture. There is also the fuller, slicker body you get with decoction and lots of an almost rye-like concentrated bitterness from the Saaz. In combination that creates a long-lasting bold flavour; no generic fizz here. The aroma is surprisingly slight for all that, with just a faint malt sweetness and herbal piquancy. Purely on personal taste, I think I would prefer more crispness to the whole picture, so it's either back to the tanks for another three months or, dare I suggest, a spot of filtration. As an Irish take on a Czech original, however, it's pleasingly convincing: a wholesome Urquell clone, minus the nasty diacetyl. I was delighted to hear this week that a tmavé will follow and I'm looking forward to seeing the same attention to detail applied to that.

It's refreshing to see a brewery that isn't simply chasing trends in an effort to seem relevant. I sense a genuine love of the art here.

I'll be quirky

Two whimsical special editions from St Mel's today. Distribution of these is sparse in Dublin but luckily 57 the Headline had me sorted, still holding on to its shop function while reopening as a pub.

St Mel's was the first Irish brewery to use Neomexicanus hops, in a highly limited edition back in 2015. Since then, the wild American variety has been tamed and hybridised, and this IPA has three sorts: Zappa, Sabro and Talus. Double Neo Zappa is the name. The savoury fried onion quality I associate with Neomexicanus is very present in the deep orange number, though even more prominent is a dry lemon-peel bitterness. It's light for 6.5% ABV, and I think a bit more body would have settled the hops. As-is, it's a little severe, but I did get used to that by the half way point. This was a fun experiment and the result is very distinctive. Something darker and heavier with these hops would be interesting.

Shortly before that, St Mel's released their Spice Bag Saison, something that has the potential to become a uniquely Irish beer style if more local breweries get on board. This is 7% ABV and a similar hazy orange colour. The ingredients are listed helpfully on the label and feature coriander, orange peel, grapefruit peel salt, black pepper, fennel, cayenne pepper and thyme. Corainder is actually listed twice and I can see what that's about: the aroma is pure coriander -- avoid if you're not a fan. I'll admit I was expecting something daftly gimmicky but despite the laundry list of spices this is primarily a clean and crisp saison in the classic vein. Coraiander again looms large in the flavour but the spicing behind it is entirely in keeping with saison yeast qualities. I might have been disappointed that it really doesn't channel the taste of a spice bag, but in its place I got an absolutely bang-on saison, so no complaints.

So there's room for a more involved spice bag saison, if any other producer wishes to step up to the mark.

Token Vocation

It's quite a few months since I've featured any beers from Great Britain on here. That's not deliberate; I think it's just a reflection of the sort of British beers we get imported: a lot of very samey styles, often at very high prices. I don't actively avoid them; it's more that they've blurred together and I've stopped noticing them. So today I'm making a conscious effort to check in with what's happening in English beer as available to Ireland, and I've picked the usually reliable Vocation from Yorkshire, largely because their €6-7 cans of haze are about a euro cheaper than their fellow countrymen.

A New England pale ale is first up. Perfect Storm, at 6.6% ABV, seems a little strong for this sort of thing. It looks light enough in the glass, however: a translucent pale orange. Lots of weedy resin comes out early in the aroma; a deeper sniff softens this to a more playful lemon sherbet effect. The resinous sharp side again comes into the flavour early, and I thought this was going to be a tough drinker but the bitterness takes a break in the middle, before returning as a leafy green tang on the end. The centre, instead, is filled with juicy tangerine and kumquat citrus. It's clean and decent; balancing neatly the two aspects of its hopping while avoiding any haze-related unpleasantness. The hefty alcohol is hidden away too, though I question its right to be there in the first place. This could have been achieved at a more sociable strength. Anyway, moving on...

Loose Leaf is only a tiny bit stronger at 6.7% ABV though they call this one an IPA. The name comes from its use of Earl Grey tea in the recipe, and I'm a tad apprehensive about that. It looks very like a New England IPA, though nothing on the can leads one to expect this. A dense eggy yellow, it has little truck with top foam, while the aroma is all stonefruit and vanilla. The flavour shows more of that hard leafy bitterness found in the last one, suggesting dry hopping that's gone on too long. Maybe some of that is the tea but I honestly couldn't tell. This is a very average NEIPA. Whatever they thought the tea would bring has been buried under very typical, and not especially jolly, New England IPA stereotype. This is designed for the haze true believers yet not pitched to them on the label. That's frustrating. The beer isn't unpleasant but that it comes without a meaningful description is tiresome.

We get a slight boost to 7% ABV for the next one: Citra Five Ways, named from its use of five different formats of Citra pellets and extracts. It seems more of a novelty than an experiment as I don't see what can be learned from bunging them all in together. The visuals aren't great either, the hazy body studded with big floaty gobbets of something. Whether hop-related or not, it's deeply unattractive looking. For all the hop tech, the aroma is quite mild, a vaguely pleasant lemon-and-lime ice lolly effect. Although again it's not badged as New England style, there are oats in the grist and a resulting thick and creamy mouthfeel. For a Citra showcase it doesn't excel in the hop department. There's more of that leafiness, turning a little harsh in the finish; before it you'll find softer citrus fruit and a certain dankness. None of these features really dominate or bring anything distinctive to the beer. I expected a crash-pow of big Citra but it's a bit of a damp squib, leaving room for an out-of-character vanilla sweetness late on too. You could say it's subtle and balanced, and it is enjoyable to drink, but it's nothing special. You would need to be a hardcore NEIPA fan to get value out of it. I'm beginning to suspect that that's a market Vocation is trying to serve.

Staying at 7% ABV but putting a sour twist on the style is Double Sherbet. I like sour IPA but am a tad sceptical about a strong one. It's quite dark too; a dense and unfriendly orange colour. The aroma is more welcoming, all freshly squeezed jaffa with pithy bits in. Unsurprising it's quite thickly textured and that really concentrates the sourness. This is a serious face-puckerer, literally making my eyes water with every mouthful. I quite enjoyed that. The IPA side of the equation is understated, with only that pithy orange to indicate the presence of hops. Although the finish is clean, from the sheer weightiness comes a warming, filling quality. I still think sour IPA works best when it's low strength and built for refreshment. This one definitely isn't but I liked how big and assertive it is; making it strong has turned it into something altogether different -- a sippable beast, challenging but fun.

The grand finale is Double Snowball, a pastry stout brewed to 11.4% ABV. Chocolate, coconut and marshmallow says the label, admitting that it's "sweet and sticky" so at least you know what to expect. I guess it's the marshmallow that dominates the aroma: it smells sticky, but in a very pink artificial way, more like a Ruffle bar than a Snowball. Given the strength and the claim to stickiness it's surprisingly light textured, almost a bit thin. But there's no time to concentrate on that because the flavour that comes with is enormous. I get dark chocolate, milk chocolate, raspberries, cherries, raisins, eucalyptus, aniseed, liquorice, blackstrap toffee, espresso coffee and, oh yes, your actual candy-fluff marshmallow. It's a workout and I'm very glad I was sharing the 440ml can. I enjoyed the silliness, and that it didn't go full-on stupid or unpleasant. Do split the can if you decide to go for it, though.

I won't be leaving it so late for the next lot of British beer reviews. The White Hag Boxtravaganza beer-festival-in-a-box gave me a bunch of them which I'll be running through next week.

Ein, zwei, drei, bier

The Helles from Saxon brewery Einsiedler has been around for a couple of years, in both supermarkets and specialist beer shops. The distributor has now seen fit to venture three more from the brewery which I bring to you today.

Continuing the Bavarian stylings we get Einsiedler Weissbier next. Das Hefetrüb promises the label but it's really not very cloudy, pouring a coppery amber colour and almost see-through. Otherwsie they've got the authentic Bavarian characteristics spot on: there's lots of clove in the aroma, as well as a hint of celery from the hops. It's softly textured with a busy prickle of fizz and the flavour is subtly constructed. There's no foghorn of clove or banana in the flavour but a clean and subtle spiciness. The headachey esters which can be weissbier's undoing are absent and it's very easy drinking without seeming bland or watery. I don't drink a whole lot of weissbiers these days, but should the fancy take me, I will definitely be looking this one up.

On to the lagers then. I don't know if Einsiedler Böhmisch has been in continuous production since the early 20th century but they've used an original poster from 1907 as the label. I can't tell you much about the German Böhmisch style either, though I'm sure it is/was well defined. Thinking of modern Czech offerings I expected pale so was surprised and delighted by the Märzen-esque rich amber colour. A weighty texture goes with that, feeling more than its mere 5.2% ABV. The next surprise, then, was the flavour. Although it smells simple and wholesome there's a weird sweetness -- perfume and bubblegum -- as though the esters from the weissbier have migrated into here. A hard bitterness follows, one that's almost woody and smoky. I guess the intention is for it to taste old-fashioned and rough around the edges. It does, and it made me appreciate the century of scientific progress that has made German lagers crisper and more drinkable. Maybe al fresco summer drinking wasn't the correct use case for this and it needs to be consumed by the fire in a dark wood-beamed inn. I'll wait until I have that opportunity before giving it another go.

And so to the one I was really looking forward to. We are badly off in this country for a regularly-available quality schwarzbier. I'm hoping Einsiedler Schwarzbier won't let us down on either of those fronts. It's a perfect cola-coloured reddish brown and topped with a proper off-white head. The aroma is sweeter than I'd like, more caramel than the preferred aniseed. Aniseed does arrive in the flavour, thankfully, alongside some marjoram and dill herbal complexity and a little toasty roast. There's still a sizeable caramel element, but the dry and bitter side does a good job of balancing it and it all finishes properly cleanly. This is also another big-bodied one, even at 5% ABV, but it's much cleaner than the Böhmisch and easier to drink too. The brisker toast of Köstritzer is still my go-to, but while it can't be got this will absolutely do.

That Hells/Weissbier/Schwarzbier combination makes for a nice matching set of well-made traditional German beers. I always have room for more like that in my fridge.