We've reached the end of the series and, oh, there's been a lot of new Whiplash stuff while I've been distracted by being elsewhere. Here's a rapid catch-up where the oldest beer was drank in September.We'll start with a...
We've reached the end of the series and, oh, there's been a lot of new Whiplash stuff while I've been distracted by being elsewhere. Here's a rapid catch-up where the oldest beer was drank in September.We'll start with a Berliner weisse, the latest of the Fruit Salad Days, this one with Blackberry & Raspberry. It's 4% ABV and an electric pink colour under a tight rosé head with an almost nitrogenated density. It smells broadly of autumnal berries, but nothing specific, and nothing to suggest wild fermentation. The mouthfeel is clean and minerally; effervescent, rather than fizzy. Overlaid on the spring water is a sweet layer of mixed-berry jam, exactly the sort of fruit cordial you'd find in an industrial Belgian fruit beer, but at a more subtle level. If this is done using a more expensive method, it's not worth it. The blackberry is maybe the most prominent of the two berries, which isn't usually the case, and the whole thing is the definition of fine. We're sadly long past the warm late-summer evenings for which this would be perfect.
Staying sour, the draught-only pilot kit special, Basil Marg Sour, is served with an implied cheeky wink. The style is "Ballyer weisse", the first of its name from the Ballyfermot brewery. It's a lurid kermit-green, and I'm doubtful that the fresh basil or any real limes were responsible for this. The aim is to copy a cocktail, and that effect is helped by a high strength, 7.1% ABV, and a corresponding heavyish body. There's a tangy spark of sourness in the aroma though, again, nothing that suggests mixed fermentation to me. In the flavour, the zesty lime and orange are prominent, followed by an understated tart bite. In most beers like this, that would be your lot, but here the fresh basil also makes a contribution: savoury, oily, inducing happy thoughts about pesto and pizza, and lingering long into the finish. It's also genuinely refreshing, thought I'm not sure that would continue through subsequent glasses. One and done is fun.
Clearest Echoes is described as a "rustic lager", which I'm guessing has something to do with the inclusion of oats and spelt, but otherwise I'm not sure what's going on. It's very pale, a kind of hazy white gold with a fine foam on top, and 4.5% ABV. Mandarina Bavaria, the Germans' take on an American hop, is the first named on the can, so I was surprised by the extremely authentic pilsner aroma. That's when I noticed that Saaz is listed under it, and I reckon it's doing the driving. Then I was a little further surprised at how unbitter it is. The grass flavour is there, but it's soft and bready, showing a similar profile to classic Helles, although lighter. I liked it. There's plenty of character from the hops, and I guess the texture is down to those unorthodox grains, yet it still has all the things one could wish for from a German-style pale drinking lager. This one is much better suited to wholesome foaming tankards than arty 44cl cans.
A brown ale follows. Tamper Tantrum has added coffee, courtesy of Dublin roastery 3FE. 5.8% ABV is relatively modest but it poured like a much stronger beer, with an almost gooey consistency, the head forming slowly and thickly. That's borne out by the substantial creamy mouthfeel. Even though there's actual coffee in it, I think I can detect the use of brown malt, something Whiplash is one of the few Irish breweries to use regularly, more's the pity. In both aroma and foretaste there's a base of coffee and chocolate in the manner of very good brown ale. Where the 3FE Christmas Blend comes in, I suspect, is the bonus complexity. There's a nutty, cakey, marzipan side, and a wisp of unseasonal summer fruit or red grape. While it's mostly sweet, there's enough roast to dry it out and stop it from cloying: it could easily have finished sticky, but it doesn't. This is a masterpiece, and one of the best uses of coffee to add interesting flavours -- not just the taste of coffee -- to a beer.
We enter the IPA section with Golden Mile, a 6.6% ABV IPA brewed with Centennial and Vic Secret. The latter means aniseed to me, and there is a hint of liquorice in the aroma, although it's mixed with plentiful fruit candy. Both end up as background players in the flavour. Front and centre it's a pithy, almost harsh, citrus zest bitterness. The texture is very light for the strength, and the high carbonation also suggests weaker fizz. It finishes quickly, leaving only an echo of savoury fennel, which I guess is Vic's last flourish. It's fine. I recognise the quality but remain unmoved by what it does. It could be a core beer at any modern brewery you care to worship. 
The next one, Fresh Cuts, is an identical strength, but this time it's Chinook, Mosaic and Simcoe doing the business. It's a foamy fellow, forming lots of head, beneath which it looks a bit grey, but mostly a very very opaque yellowish orange. The aroma begins with juicy citrus but has an edge too, which might be hop spice, but might equally be dregs. From tasting, I think it's the hops: they're very concentrated and oily, providing a sort of rosemary and aniseed savoury side. I'm holding Simcoe responsible: that's often the hop I find making serious faces and grumpy comments when everyone else is partying. Chinook is no ray of sunshine either, mind. With all of this resin, the juice gets bittered up, becoming pith-like, with an added heat that's excessive for the ABV. It's all a bit harsh and difficult for my liking; not up to the usual Whiplash standard.
That arrived alongside a collaboration with Danish brewery Gamma, called Tipping Over The Line: another IPA, this time 6.8%. It's a little bit clearer than the last one, but still very much hazy and orange. There's a different sort of oil in the aroma -- more citric -- but just as assertive. It looks like we're in for more bitterness. There's certainly pith, of the sort that Sorachi Ace tends to express, though here without the coconut or burnt plastic notes that tend to accompany it. Sabro? Turns out that an as-yet unnamed variety designated HBC1019 is the centrepiece, and the breeder does want us to find coconut here, as well as honeydew melon and (a first for a hop attribute) dark rum. I poured a tot of dark rum to have beside it. It doesn't taste of dark rum. It does taste very good, however, and will especially suit those of us who are all aboard the Sorachi-Sabro Express. There is a softness beyond the pith, and while I wouldn't go as far as summery melon, I'll happily credit it with lychee, yuzu, kiwifruit and whitecurrant. This is set on a nicely smooth body, a little lacking in condition and with poor head retention, but that's a worthy sacrifice for a more satisfying beer. Well done HBC1019 and best wishes for your future career.
Moving further up in strength, slightly, we have Window Lean, an IPA brewed in collaboration with To Øl, with whom they share an Irish distributor. The hops are an all-American mix of Strata, Mosaic and Cascade, and while it's hazy, it's translucent rather than opaque, either in defiance of fashion or creating a new one. You never know with Whiplash. The name is unsettling, and I was half expecting a solvent or detergent taste, but it's lovely, seasoning the luscious fruit notes of the two modern hops -- mandarin and mango; pineapple and passionfruit -- with the earthy spice of Cascade. There's a certain density and heat, reflecting its 7.1% ABV, but it's very easily ignored. The brightly colourful flavour makes it trivially easy to drink, lacking bitterness, which some might consider a flaw but with which I couldn't argue. Maybe there's a bit of nursery flavour going on, hitting my under-stimulated sensors for Um Bongo and Five Alive. If 1980s tropical juice drinks were your thing, there's a beer for that.
A smidge stronger at 7.2% ABV is Hear the Cadence, featuring Citra, Cashmere, Idaho 7 and guest malt: spelt. It's pale and hazy, with a very sweet aroma, all orange cordial and brightly-coloured jelly. I feared it being sickly, but there's an abrupt about face on tasting, where it turns out pithy, albeit in an Orangina/Club Orange way, where there's a spoonful or two of white sugar in there with the citrus pulp. I spent so long thinking about bitty orangeades that it didn't occur to me how light and refreshing it is, with no malt weight -- thanks spelt! -- and no booze heat. This is clean and simple fun, and a little bit moreish. A cheeky second would be no hardship.
The inevitable double IPA is called Promise Everything, hopped with Strata, Eclipse and Amarillo. It's hazy, of course, and smells powerfully of pineapple and mango. Yum. The flavour doesn't diverge significantly from this, tasting fresh, juicy, and wonderfully clean, as tends to be the Whiplash way. The 8.2% ABV gives it plenty of chewy substance, but no unwelcome heat, so it stays refreshing all the way along. I liked the precision of it, with nothing extraneous or unpleasant. Yes there are lots of beers like this on the market but, as usual, Whiplash gets it just right.
An imperial stout takes us out. Safety Cap Off flags its vanilla up front, and there are no other novelty ingredients. It smells warm and rich, like proper homemade custard, not a thin beer that's had vanilla dropped in. It's extremely dense, feeling all of the 10% ABV and more. It's incredibly thick, a real chewer, and there's a a good mix of gooey chocolate sweetness, loaded with honey, and then a harder coffee and treacle bitterness. On the finish there's a floral or woody mix of honeysuckle and maple syrup. While it's good, the best beers like this include something else, be it fruit or spice or hop bitterness. This one is just malt, booze and treacle. If calorific fairground heat is all that you want, it delivers. By half way I was wishing for something more interesting.Thanks for sticking with me to the end, if indeed you did. Blah blah kaleidoscope, something something vibrant beer scene. The year's not done yet, however...