Haze praise

I've been a fan of the work of Romanian brewery Hop Hooligans in the past, so picked up these three new ones when they passed my way.

Elder Gods is an interesting proposition, being a sour ale of 5% ABV with added elderflower, honey and lemon. That suggests summer drinking to me, and it is a sunny opaque yellow colour in the glass. Neither the aroma nor flavour are especially strong, indicating that real fruit and flowers have been used here, rather than concentrate or syrup. There's a bright and zesty lemon character, and then a bonus sweetness which is just about recognisable as elderflower, plus a spicing that would have me swearing there's ginger involved too, but it's not listed. Nothing about it is sour, though it's not horribly sweet either. While refreshing, it's very plain, and a lot less interesting than the specification led me to believe. Oh well.

Two hazy IPAs follow, beginning with Seaview, hopped with Cryo Mosaic, Azacca and Pacific Sunrise. The half-litre can took a while to pour, piling up lots of fluffy foam. It's inconvenient but I'm not complaining about getting 60ml more than the norm. Under the head it's a pale, beaten-egg yellow. The aroma isn't especially interesting, having the broadly sweet fruit effect of a zillion nondescript murky IPAs. It does go interesting places with the flavour, however. First of all it's clean: no heat, no grit, no garlic. That leaves plenty of room for the fruit attributes, and that's done subtly, like the aroma. There's a soft peachiness on a milkshake vanilla effect. I thought at first that it lacked bitterness: there's certainly no punch up front. It does leave a residual echo of lime in the aftertaste, which I enjoyed. The big surprise is a kind of tannic dryness which complements the smooth mouthfeel beautifully, plus a mild peppery spicing which adds a very unexpected twist. At 6% ABV it should be a sipper, but I found that the combination of silky mouthfeel and balanced, understated flavours, made it very sinkable. A half litre barely lasted a quarter of an hour before I was ready to open the next one.

Mass Production is the same strength and looks broadly similar, though perhaps a little paler and more transparent. The hops this time are Strata, Mosaic and Nelson Sauvin and, as you might expect, there's more going on in the aroma from that. Juice is very prominent there, and quite tropical, with pineapple and cantaloupe notes. Again the flavour is subtle for the most part, though with more character in evidence than with the previous one. I credit the Nelson with jazzing the whole thing up, bringing its own kind of mineral spice, plus a dollop of gooseberry, pear and honeydew melon. They've retained the overarching cleanness from the other beer and that really helps the hop flavour come through unimpeded, its sweet vanilla side relegated to a supporting role. I took a bit longer with this one, enjoying exploring the delicate hop features which are tastefully displayed. By the end I wish wishing for a third IPA with even more of a clean hop profile.

My appreciation of Hop Hooligans continues unimpeded. They caught my attention first with brash and banging bitter IPAs, but this shows they're a dab hand at the gentler sort too.

Kor range

Dublin's Asian supermarkets aren't a brilliant source for new and exotic beers to tick, but they're worth checking every once in a while. On a recent visit to Asia Market on Drury Street I uncovered this pair of unfamiliar Korean beers.

We start with Kloud Draft, a pale lager of 4.5% ABV, and about six weeks past its expiry date by the time I opened it. No matter. It's a bog standard eurolager, and has nothing to which a month or two either side of the best-before will make a difference. There are a number of cheap mass-production lager's tropes in evidence, including a syrupy body, a plasticky hop twang, a grainy mustiness and a scattering of potentially headache-inducing esters. Not a recommendation from me, and I'm not even going to compare it to Hite or Cass or any of the other familiar mainstream Korean lagers. There's nothing here beyond the exotic novelty factor, and if that's not something you're chasing, drink a Spaten or a Budvar instead.

The next one is a little more intriguing. It's from Jeju Beer Company, "in partnership with" Brooklyn Brewery, though definitely brewed in Korea, with I guess some craft credentials. Jeju Wit Ale is a little dark for a witbier, being the orange of a pale ale instead of cloudy yellow. The ingredients are absolutely Belgian standard: wheat, coriander, orange peel. They express themselves politely and decently in the aroma, with a pleasant introductory mix of fruit and spice. There's an emphasis on the mouth-watering juicy side in the flavour, with tart, shred-studded marmalade and fresh kumquat or satsuma zest. It finishes quickly, giving it an almost lager-like aspect which is beautifully clean and works well as a thirst-quencher. At 5.3% ABV it probably shouldn't be quite so easy-going and accessible, but I really enjoyed its sunny disposition and could see myself, ill-advisedly, chugging several in a row. As Asian beers available in Ireland go, it's one of the best. I hope it's getting out to the restaurants and noraebang venues in town, where it would be a lifesaver among the shitty pale lager options.

For the sake of weird

Outlandish concoctions, and specifically a lime and elderflower flavoured Berliner weisse, are what first brought Swedish brewer Brewski to my attention, in 2015. When a bunch of their arty cans containing strange beers arrived into Dublin recently, I picked up a set.

It was hard to decide a drinking order for the first three. They're all 4.7% ABV and are those contemporary interpretations of old sour German styles which bear little resemblance to the originals. Salty Lemon seemed like an innocent enough proposition, so that's where I started. I thought it would be a gose but the label says it's a Berliner weisse, and there's more than just lemon in here: also vanilla and liquorice. How does that work? Poorly, you may be surprised to learn. It's a crazy mish-mash of contrasting flavours, beginning with the intense white-chocolate sweetness from the vanilla. That's in the aroma and foretaste, and lingers stickily for ages afterwards. In the middle, when you're actually drinking it, it's all about the sharply zesty lemon, a palate-pinching sourness which I'm guessing is nothing to do with the fermentation and all about the added citrus. Liquorice? Salt? There isn't really room for them under the other two foghorns. I mean, it's interesting, for a sip or two, but gets boring and cloying very quickly.

Matador is another Berliner weisse, and features seemingly saner additions, pineapple and lime. It's certainly a gentler experience without the vanilla, and the fruit here is nicely real-tasting. The pineapple in particular is identical to pineapple juice from a carton and is the centre of the taste. Lime is a mild tang in the finish, with a decent amount of flavour but no sourness or bitterness. The overall effect is a kind of piña colada, minus the coconut flavour, but including the creamy texture. It doesn't taste anything like Berliner weisse and definitely isn't sour, but as a silly novelty fruit beer it's enjoyable and well made.

Last of these hazy pale amber beers is badged as a gose, Grandmother Gose, but you know by now not to expect any coriander, though there is salt, along with mango, lime and two types of chilli pepper. Although I'm sure the fruit was added as a concentrated syrup, it's not sweet, and the chilli's first contribution is to make it dry. There isn't much of a flavour from them, but they do deliver that initial rasp and then a peppery bite on the end. Without the sweetness, the fruit side is quite understated. As with the above, the lime is gentle and unobtrusive, but mango is no pineapple, and contributes nothing but a broad, mixed-tropical squash, and heavily diluted. The ingredients don't gel together as well here as they do in the Matador, but it's still easier going than Salty Lemon despite the chillis. Phew. This is all getting very complicated. Time for a change of scene.

Liquorice is back for Blacpac, an imperial stout of 10.5% ABV which also contains our old friend vanilla. It pours very dense and tarry and has a strongly sweet aroma, the vanilla getting straight to work making it smell like a dessert, specifically a cheesecake. To taste, there's nothing unorthodox at first: it's a big imperial stout, providing a solid amount of creamy coffee and dark chocolate. It turns strange after a second or two as the sweetness builds. Banana milkshake and toffee sauce sneak past the sober roast and hang around as a long sticky finish. I thought the liquorice would have brought some bitterness but I couldn't taste it at all. Is there maybe a lightly metallic tang on the end? I'm not sure. There's not much if there is. This retains just enough bitter coffee roast to avoid descending into cloying nonsense, and is still a proper imperial stout, albeit a very very sweet one. I caution anyone approaching it to be prepared for full-blast banoffee pie over herbal aniseed.

Maybe I'm getting old and boring, but this lot didn't really do it for me. I have a full tolerance for odd ingredients, but the sweetness I find difficult to deal with. Beer doesn't have to taste of beer, but bitter ones should be bitter and sour ones should be sour.

Variety isn't everything

Today it's one of my occasional check-ins with Co. Antrim brewery Lacada, beginning with Shallows, a 4.5% ABV sour ale with cherry and raspberry. No surprise from the pinkness, nor from the minimal amount of sourness on display. That's no more than a grainy cereal husk dryness, overlaid with heavily seeded raspberry jam. Nothing about it says cherry, though it's far from unusual for raspberry in a fruit beer to drown out everything else. I mean, it's a tough set of specs to do something impressive with. There are enough high-strength lactose milkshake wannabes and mixed-fermentation sippers on the market these days to make a standard kettled soured ale look lacklustre and, frankly, a bit pointless. I didn't feel I got much for my fiver from this one. 

For the next two I have Simon to thank for providing tasters. The Sugarloaf is a Helles lager at a somewhat slight 4.5% ABV. They claim a level of authenticity here, using Hallertau and Perle hops, but I think they've either used too much of them or left the gravity too low. It doesn't have the rounded spongecake richness of good Helles and is instead quite dry and grassy in the aroma and a little vegetal and bitter to taste: not bad, but more like a pilsner. The crisp biscuit base is part of that, and the rising volume of celery and green cabbage leaf continues it. I got a twang of brown sugar sweetness in the finish, but it didn't add anything terribly positive. Lager isn't really a Lacada speciality, and this has the feel of one brewed to meet a market demand without any real enthusiasm, a bit like the pink lad above. There's nothing wrong with it per se, but I'm sure there are better examples of Helles from Germany available wherever it's sold.

A stout to finish, the faith-and-begorrah stylings of Shamrock Pinnacle, named for a submarine geological feature off the Antrim coast. It's a stout, of course, broadly in the sessionable Irish style though given a little extra welly with 4.8% ABV. That provides an excellent framework for boosting the stout flavour characteristics, and there's lots of warming roasted richness and punchy cabbage bittering. More subtle elements arrive once the initial hits calm down, and I got brightly floral rosewater and a spiced cola complexity. There seems to be quite a fashion at the moment for Irish and Irish-style stouts, coming from all sorts of breweries here and in the UK. This is definitely one of the better takes, hanging on to the pintable fundamentals but adding some quite marvellous bells and whistles to that. Excellent work.

I could be glib and say that this demonstrates how making good dark beer is so much easier than lager or sour, but I think there's a genuine talent at Lacada for stout: Shamrock Pinnacle isn't their first to impress me mightily. It's a shame that, by every brewer's account, it's such a tough sell. I'd love to see more.

Auss!

It was the first sunny day on the patio this year, and in the absence of any actual pils, my utepils for 2024 were two other kinds of German lager. 

Schneider is a weissbier brewery, the top tier, in fact. Everybody knows that. So what happens when they turn their attention to new-fangled lager? Schneider's Bayrisch Hell has apparently been around since 1928, and has a retro-designed label to convince you of this. 4.9% strikes me as a very modern ABV for Helles, however. Is it just me or was over the 5% standard until recently? In the glass it's the proper shade of yellow, though a little hazy. Perhaps the weissbier legacy is making itself felt. The aroma gives little away, and it transpires from the flavour that there's little to be given away. This is very plain fare, lacking the rich sweet side exhibited by the best Helles. Instead it's dry and crisp, more like a pilsner, though without a proper hop kick, not a good one. "Inoffensive" is the best I can say about this. I guess some Schneider customers local to the brewery needed a lager to go with their wessbier order, but I reckon they could have done rather better than this one. Augustiner it ain't.

From Hofbräuhaus Traunstein comes Fürsten Trunk, a festbier. It's an innocent clear gold in the glass, looking light and refreshing, though the label tells us it's a voll 5.7% ABV. And full it is, weighty of body in the proper Oktoberfest way. The flavour is big to match, piling in sticky golden syrup and a salad of green German hops. Though loud and bold, it's all done fully within the specs of proper German lager, of course. I think it could have gone bigger: there's a restraint to the malt body in particular which means it doesn't quite balance the biting hops. It's fine, and well suited to the occasion, but more beef please. This Fest could stand to be a bit less restrained.

They weren't great beers, but the main thing is that outdoor drinking season is underway once more. Get out there when you can.

The Original

Easter weekend saw the return of Ireland's longest-running beer festival, at Franciscan Well in Cork. Having missed last year's due to transport issues, this was the first I'd been to at actual Easter since 2019. It seemed rather more subdued than in the years of the Irish craft beer boom, with just ten visiting breweries plus the venue's own Original 7.

Wicklow Wolf had two unfamiliar beers for me, including a new draft-only Helles, called Hideaway. It's lighter than one would see in Germany, at 4.5% ABV, and has a bit of haze going on. When first poured in the chilly back yard it didn't taste of much, and it went downhill from there. Once the beginnings of warmth arrived it began to develop sweet estery flavours of banana, and then a strangely sharp pine detergent effect. It lacks the gentle, rounded, spongecake or white bread that Helles should provide, and I'm not sure it's a good example of any kind of pale lager. I'll be leaving it alone.

The event also saw the launch of Wicklow Wolf's new collaboration with Kentucky distillery Rabbit Hole. It's called Cavehill and is in the Kentucky common style. Wicklow Wolf had one of these in their original line-up, and I was quite fond of the crisp dark ale. There's no crispness in this bourbon barrel aged one, however, it's big and round and creamy, with a huge vanilla flavour up front. Caramel and chocolate follow it along, and there's a very obvious heat, more than might be expected for 7% ABV, though perhaps it's more pronounced because some of it derives from the whisky. I get what it's trying to be, but it wasn't to my taste. A half was plenty; more would be just too cloying.

There were two regular beers on offer from West Cork Brewing of Baltimore, plus a new one. Cape Clear is named for the nearby island which has become a centre of excellence for the cultivation of lavender, and the beer contains lavender grown on the island. Its base is an 80/- Scottish-style ale, finishing at 4.5% ABV, into which the lavender has been added at flame-out. While Tara the brewer said the amount was only a few hundred grams in the batch, the result is substantial, with a bright and summery floral perfume present in both the aroma and flavour. This matches well with the toffee sweetness from the dark amber base beer, resulting in something characterful and individual, but not overdone or gimmicky. Apart from tasting nice, it's an excellent example of beer making use of local ingredients and becoming part of their story.

My only other dark beer came from Third Barrel, a new Flanders-style red ale called, of course, Stupid Sexy Flanders. Rodenbach's Roeslare Blend of yeast and bugs has done the business beautifully here, and it really presents the cherry and strawberry notes of Rodenbach very well. It is a little sharp at first, delivering a vinegary burn on the first taste, but it settles quickly, becoming a more rounded and classy balsamic tang. A cleansing crispness finishes it off. My only criticism is that it's a little on the strong side at 7% ABV. Good and all as it is, I think it's one to enjoy in small doses.

Another lager to clear the palate next: Citrus Chiller, from Black's of Kinsale. This is a very light affair, being an extremely pale yellow, 4.2% ABV and thinly textured. The flavour doesn't provide anything more intense than some highly dilute lemon barley water, which makes it refreshing, I guess, but very basic. I don't know how the citrus effect was achieved, but it seemed a little artificial to me, with a lingering cordial stickiness as the aftertaste. It has its place, but sipped in a cold beer garden is probably not it. Wait until the mercury is high before tackling one of these.

9 White Deer also pre-empted the summer with a festival special they called Stag Lilt. Allegedly, it's a gose, but it was neither sour nor salty nor herbal, so zero for three on the Leipzig scale. From the name, you can probably guess that they've used some tropical fruit concentrate in the recipe. They don't tell us what, and I genuinely couldn't figure it out from the flavour. Much like with actual Lilt, it's a mish-mash of ersatz fruit characteristics, all on a theme of sweet. I got the same wateriness and artificiality as in the previous beer, though in this one the ABV is a ridiculously high 5.5% according to the festival brochure. Fair play to 9 White Deer for doing something beyond their usuals for the festival, but gose may not be a genre that suits them.

Hazy IPA is still in fashion, and I drank a whole three of them on the day. First up was Lough Gill with a 7%-er called Gaelic Amore. Modern enhanced hop product "Cryo x Phantasm" features, alongside Nelson Sauvin and El Dorado. The beer is brightly hazy, looking like a glass of Sunny Delight, topped with a fine froth. I got Calippo ice pop from the aroma, followed by a flavour which took me on a journey, beginning at soft lemon pie and vanilla, building to a harder grapefruit and lime pith, finishing up on a savoury kick of garlic and a burn of alcohol. Phew. It's quite a textbook New England profile, and I'm sure the enthusiasts will be delighted to see the style created so diligently. I thought it was OK, but unspectacular, and very much something that's readily available from any number of other breweries. I'm a fan of both the named hops and was a little disappointed not to find their individual characteristics on display in this.

We're now on version six of Lineman's Electric Avenue, where the hops are Citra, Mosaic and Ekuanot. This was scary fresh, exhibiting the hard bitterness of raw hop pellets. That made it quite hard work for me, especially late in the day as it was. I liked the boldness of it, and it's another that hop connoisseurs will particularly appreciate, but at the same time I think the bitterness should have been dialled down. I could tell that Mosaic's soft melon notes were present in the background, but they were getting comprehensively drowned out by the obstreperous Citra. It would be churlish to even introduce the word "balance" into the context of this beer -- such a multi-tonal hop symphony has no place for it -- but balance does serve a purpose, and this could have done it a bit better, for my taste anyway.

That leaves just our hosts, Original 7. Their recently-released New England-style IPA is called Juice Bomb and is a much calmer creature. That said, it's no lightweight at 5.8% ABV and there's a proper soft and fluffy texture. You get a squeeze of orange juice, some vanilla essence and a very slight savoury allium note, but none of it goes overboard. I've remarked before that the brewery makes pub beers for pub drinkers, and this does a good job of taking the style and adapting for pint drinking. In contrast with Electric Avenue, you could have a few without feeling overwhelmed by any part of it.

Brand new for the event was Basic Peach, and here comes the fruit syrup again. This purports to be an IPA, hopped with Cashmere and Belma, but the sticky additive dominates it completely, to the point where it creates an impression of drinking neat peach schnapps. Though an innocent clear gold colour, it's a full 6% ABV and quickly coats the palate. Belma, known for its sweet strawberry taste, is probably a good choice of hop for it, but whether any of its character was delivered, or whether the sweetness was solely peach concentrate, is impossible to tell. Still, I can't say I wasn't warned by the name, and it certainly delivers what's promised.

Cheers to all the brewers who brought an interesting an eclectic range of beers, and a particularly big thanks to the organisers who have kept this event alive and kicking for so long. I hope to see you next year, when we might get a warmer day for it.

Citrus two ways

Two more new draught releases from Galway Bay, via the taps at The Black Sheep.

The more exciting one, at least on paper, is Kimigayo, a gose created in collaboration with Exale Brewing in London, containing yuzu and seaweed. It's a clear amber colour and headless after a few seconds. The aroma is sweet and lemony, more like a lemonade than a beer, even a soured fruit one. In fact the sourness doesn't show up for work at all. The citrus gets more concentrated on tasting. I've never eaten a yuzu, but here it tastes like lime, being sharp and a little oily too. The blurb promises umami and smoke from the seaweed but it's hard work to find either, with only a faint savoury quality hanging on in the aftertaste once all the sugar has departed. At only 4.5% ABV this would work as a thirst-quencher on a warm day. The heavy hand with which the yuzu syrup has been added makes it little more than that, however.

Two taps to the left was Lush, Galway Bay's new pale ale, of the "extra" variety. In defiance of fashion it is completely transparent, and indeed very pale, so no quibble with the blurb here. Although the texture is light, as one would expect at 4.3% ABV, they've piled in the resins, lending it a heavy dankness, one unimpeded by malt weight. And yet there's a noteworthy sweet side, giving me crunchy muscovado sugar and crisp candyfloss. I was fascinated by how it's fizzy and spritzy yet the hop oils balance that so it's not abrasive, helping the drinkability. Word is this is destined to become the house session IPA for whatever passes for permanent at Galway Bay. I'll miss Weights & Measures but am content that this characterful number is a worthy replacement.

The papers have reported troubles on the business side of Galway Bay/BRÚ this year. I can't speak to that but can say, from this side of the bar, that the beer end seems healthy.