

A “micro IPA” starts us off gently, and I decided to put Lough Gill’s Chill to the test with a realistic use-case: a Monday evening when I didn’t really feel like drinking but didn’t not feel like it either. That calls for a 3%-er. It’s an attractive clear golden in the glass and has a very impressive aroma, smelling heavy and gummy, of luscious tropical fruit: cantaloupe, mango and guava. There’s absolutely no sign at this stage that it’s in any way compromised. There’s only a very slight one on tasting, too, I’m happy to say. It starts pithy and spicy, with both tropical and citrus elements. It’s very clean as well, with no intrusive off-flavours taking advantage of the lack of body. But that lack of body is where it falls a little short. The hops finish their act very promptly and the whole thing tails off into water, mere moments after sipping. So it’s fun while it lasts; refreshing and easy-drinking, and with enough hop character to make it worth your while. I could see myself coming back to it on some future Monday.
I don’t know which brewery created the next in today’s selection: it’s an Aldi pale ale, designed to mimic Beavertown’s branding, and called Cosmic Hops. It’s very much off-fashion, being completely clear and amber coloured. It smells sweet, and a little fruity, like crunchy Skittles or similar. I was expecting something more akin to a soft drink than a beer: sweet and fizzy. That’s not what happened, however. It’s undoubtedly cheaply made, hence the rock bottom 99 cent price tag, 3.8% ABV, and thin fizzy texture. Nevertheless, the flavour does have a certain charm, showing tannic English bitter vibes, with a fermenting silage funk and a bittersweet note of peach skin and white plum. It’s not bad. I would be reasonably confident that this isn’t actually the product of any Irish brewery, and is brewed by one of Aldi’s suppliers in the UK. They’ve done much worse than this. I deem it a perfectly acceptable ultra-economical beer option, although it’s not for fans of the sort of IPA Beavertown makes: as usual with these, it bears no resemblance to the beer whose clothes it has stolen.
Belfast’s Bullhouse is next up, with their St Patrick’s Day theme beer, based on their Rolling Papers IPA, called Rolling Patrick. For, I guess, the sesh, they’ve dropped the ABV from 5.2% to 4.3%. It’s still mega hazy, and has all the haze trappings: an attractive juicy aroma followed by a gritty flavour and texture. There’s a dose of green spring onion, backed by a resinous weed twang, but nothing that the chalky murk doesn’t quickly cover. It’s surprisingly light for a hop-forward hazy beer: I guess I’m used to having these at American strength. That doesn’t make it sessionable, however. There’s too much rough and hot savoury unpleasantness, all dirty and serious, making it impossible to relax with. I’m sure the brewery put lots and lots of expensive hops into it, but without a clean base for them, that was a bit of a waste. Sure, it just isn’t my kind of beer, but I have to wonder what anyone else would see in it.
Posh-nosh Dublin grocer Lotts & Co. has tended to have a fairly decent high-end beer and cider selection, for a shop that absolutely doesn’t need to carry one. Now they’ve commissioned an exclusive, the contract going to Hopfully. They’ve called it &, and it’s a hazy IPA, which is exactly the sort of thing one would approach Hopfully to make. It’s only 5% ABV, though, so I guess is intended as a sessionable sort of house beer, a bit like the Aldi one above, but with oodles more class. It’s a custardy yellow in the glass, which I’m sure will shock a Lotts patron or two, unused to craft IPA’s modern ways. It smells bouncy and tropical, the mango and pineapple brought to you by Mosaic, Strata and — surprise inclusion — Hallertauer Mittelfrüh. The fruit aroma becomes concentrated and intense on tasting, laden with tinned peaches in syrup to begin, but fading quickly, with a quite contrasting dried herb mix taking over, presumably thanks to the German noble hops. There’s a mild vanilla sweetness, but otherwise the haze element doesn’t make its presence felt, with no heat, grit or other murky unpleasantness. It all works rather well: understated and subtle, as the name implies, but still characterful and enjoyable. It’s good to find some simple and decent quality in a shop where the aisles are otherwise crammed with notions.
Also at 5% ABV is Roll in the Haze, from Whitewater. This brewery was one of the greats of Irish beer going back a decade or three, but I can’t remember when a beer of theirs last impressed me. That’s partly down to them not having any distribution in the south these days. Anyway, hello again Whitewater. What have you got for me? This pale ale is rather a dun ochre colour, definitely not showing the custard palette beloved of hoppy hazy beer’s more involved enthusiasts. It looks murky through carelessness rather than by design. The aroma, too, is not that of fashionable haze but is hot and sweet, with a little vanilla and a lot of clove rock. Its flavour is plain and inoffensive, and I’m taking that as a win. There’s a modicum of effervescent fruit candy and a dash of vanilla essence mixed with crunchy oat biscuit. This isn’t on style at all and I don’t think the brewer really understood the assignment. There’s no juice, no freshness, no zing. Whitewater is a ’90s vintage brewery that made some really good 20th-century-style beers. I wish it still did. The transition to our new millennium hasn’t suited it very well.
The next beer, brewed by Lacada to celebrate 200 years of lifeboat service, scored a Golden Pint from me in December for its branding. The brewery’s unofficial brand ambassador Simon was kind enough to slip me a can of Out On A Shout when last we met, so I get to try the actual beer now. It’s another 5% ABV hazy IPA. The hops are what looks like a busy combination of Admiral (ha!), Trident (lol!), Yellow Sub (obvs), and Nelson Sauvin (tenuous, but I’ll take it). Is it correct to allow maritime puns dictate the recipe? Yes, yes it is. In the glass it’s quite densely hazy, and smells pithy, with a touch of unwelcome savoury seeds. The flavour is oily and resinous, lending it a chewy quality that’s not supported by the light and breezy texture. There’s a certain degree of fruity tropical sunshine, but for the most part it’s all spinach, peanut oil and sesame seed. It has a heat that’s more than the ABV suggests, but that’s not a criticism: it punches above its weight and is sippable rather than a quaffer. The savoury side doesn’t usually sit well with me but I don’t have the usual objections here. It’s full and rich, with enough fruit to balance its sharper angles, and achieves what it sets out to do adequately.
This year’s début from Third Barrel was Don’t Look Up, an IPA of 6.5% ABV, its can featuring the usual cheap-and-smeary computer-generated “artwork”. It’s not badged as a “west coast” IPA and I think they might have missed a trick there, because it is one, and there’s a fanbase for that. It’s mostly clear and a kind of pale amber shade, topped with a thin but lasting skim of foam. With Centennial, Mosaic and Galaxy hops we’re promised grapefruit, lime and mango, though it’s the latter I get most of: a concentrated, almost syrupy, tropical sweetness. That’s so concentrated as to turn acidic, although it’s more of a rhubarb astringency to my mind, rather than zesty citrus. The aroma is a funky and foetid fruit effect, with more than a hint of weedy dank. There’s a lot going on, but it all harmonises quickly and becomes delightfully drinkable: punchy without turning harsh; juicy without losing sight of its essential grown-up beeriness. The slightly high alcohol level gives it a satisfying roundness to smooth off the hops’ various excesses. Though I’ve had many a beer with these hops, and possibly even with this specific combination, this is distinctively different in a high quality way. Grab it while the aroma is still singing.
Looks like it’s just a short one this time out. Luckily, the brewers have now properly kicked into gear after the late winter doldrums and there’s much more new stuff of interest knocking about. If you want to see what I think of it, you know where to check.