Exploding can special

I don't know why I even had these. It certainly wasn't with the intention of seeing if they improved with age: the styles involved aren't really built for that. This summer's warm weather resulted in some warped cans, and I lost a few which ruptured, so I took that as a signal to try these out before they explode completely.

Eight Degrees Orange Ball

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2019 | ABV: 3.9% | On The Beer Nut: August 2019

I guess it was the orange, passionfruit and guava that are responsible for the gas build-up in this. Any freshness from the tropical fruit has departed, though there's still a pithy orange aroma, driven by plenty of fizz. My original review noted tea-like tannins, and that's the main feature of the flavour. The citrus is less apparent, leaving just an oily residue in the finish. It's not unpleasant, even if it's very much not as the brewer intended. The only downsides are an unwelcome sour staleness and a slightly metallic tang. I'm wondering if that's an inherent problem with old canned beers, especially pale ones. We'll see how that pans out in the others. It seems that some residue from the orange had clumped together and that was waiting at the bottom of the glass, increasing the intensity of the orange effect as I neared the end.

I wouldn't recommend cellaring this beer, and obviously it hasn't improved with age. It's still drinkable, however, so if you happen across some, no need to drain pour it, before you taste it anyway.

Eight Degrees Seisíun

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2018 | ABV: 4.5% | On The Beer Nut: July 2016

Took me a while to find my original review of this. It was called "Summer Days" at launch, then renamed for year-round drinking.

There shouldn't have been any rogue fermentables in this one, but the can warped anyway, though it didn't gush. Inside, the beer was a normal-looking hazy amber colour. There's an aroma of grapefruit which is pleasant, even if it's not exactly overwhelming with freshness. Unsurprisingly, the flavour is all about the bitterness rather than any fruity top notes, and yes, there's that metallic tang again.

Regardless, I think this one may have actually developed some positive complexity from the ageing. Along with the pithy orange bitterness, there's a coconut thread running through the middle of it, and a light cinnamon spicing too. That makes it all a bit Christmassy, which is fun, and not something I expected from a core-range session IPA.

The White Hag Unfinished Business

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2019 | ABV: 4.5% | On The Beer Nut: December 2019

An all-Mosaic lager can't possibly have improved. This was another gusher, with barely enough condition left after pouring to form a head. Again it's a pithy aroma to start with, harsh and bitter, with none of the tropicality from when it was fresh. I think the metallic tang is here in the flavour but if so it's very muted. There's a hard-water mineral quality: intensely clean thanks to the cool fermentation. The hops sit on top of this, bringing unsubtle marmalade and jaffa peel. It definitely seems like the tropical flavour compounds have broken down, but the residual citrus is ensuring this beer remains worthwhile, six years after packaging. Even though the hops aren't fresh, I liked how the lager element is still pristine, lacking any off flavours or staleness.

For the most part, these were better than I expected. While of course I don't recommend that anyone age pale ales or hoppy lagers in the hope of improving them, not least because of the risk of explosion, it seems it takes a lot to properly ruin a beer once it's in its aluminium jacket. There are some more up there. If they start showing signs of internal disturbance, I'll get them blogged here too.

The White Hag Barrel Aged Black Boar

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2015 | ABV: 10.2% | On The Beer Nut: October 2014

Strictly speaking, this beer hasn't been covered previously, as it's the barrel aged version, released a year after the original formed part of The White Hag's launch line-up. It's close enough for my purposes, however, and the ABV is the same. The 75cl bottle with a sealed-on cap should mean it has held up well, even after a full decade in my sub-optimal cellaring conditions. As I struggled to prise open the thick layer of wax, I hoped that the oxygen had as much trouble getting in as I did.

From the initial taste, I thought something had gone horribly wrong. There's a huge phenolic character sitting up front, all peat and seaweed. I had not noticed that the barrels it was aged in were Highland scotch, and it was clearly one of the peated varieties. There's no whisky spirit nor oaken spice, just that earthy peat. I was half way through the first glass before I could taste anything else.

The stout beneath is pristine, without a hint of oxidation, autolysis or anything else untoward. I suspect that this tastes identical to when it went into the bottle. Peat aside, it's more a beer of texture than flavour, lightly carbonated and incredibly smooth. That's easily interpreted in a less positive way, of course: the subtle coffee and caramel I noted in plain Black Boar has been drowned out by the blousy barrel, and there's no sign of evolution of extra complexity after ageing: no thinning out from in-bottle attenuation, despite bottle conditioning, and none of the vinous qualities that a little oxidation can bring to a beer like this.

This one is good for quite a few more years yet, I'd say, if you're holding a bottle. And it'll still taste mostly of peat regardless of how long it's left.

Four Provinces Láidir

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2020 | ABV: 6.2% | On The Beer Nut: May 2018

The can had warped a little, which seems to be a common issue with the canned beers in the stash, what with global warming and all. I've lost a few through explosions, but nothing of particular value. I would have been sorry if I lost this, since the brewery no longer makes it, and it being a superb beer, as I recall.

This looks to be a second generation can, with a best before date of May 2021. It still smelled fresh and chocolatey as soon as the tab was pulled. There's a tiny autolytic quality to the flavour; a smidge of Bovril beefyness that wasn't there before, but it's not very pronounced. Mostly it's still the rich coffee and cocoa that has always been Láidir's central character, very well preserved and tasty. Although fermentation seems to have been happening in the can, it hasn't thinned out much, and retains the silky smooth high-class chocolate creaminess.

While I don't think the beer has improved or disimproved during its ageing, this does make me miss Láidir as an once-accessible locally-brewed beer of very high quality. I'm pleased that Four Provinces has recently been revitalised, and that Piper and Féile are showing up on draught taps around my area of Dublin. I would love to see Láidir back, however. Big dark beers are in too short supply. On the can they called this one "robust" and, five years in, I can say it absolutely is.

BrewDog Tokyo*

Origin: UK | Date: 2017 | ABV: 16.5% | On The Beer Nut: June 2010

A caveat to the claim above: in 2010 Tokyo* was 18.2% ABV and that's the version I reviewed. The brewery since discovered that their yeast didn't like this high gravity work and so it was changed. By 2017, when BrewDog sent me this bottle, it had been reduced to 16.5% ABV. That's still pretty strong, I guess.

Seven years in the attic has brought some autolysis to the game, with more than a suggestion of soy sauce in the aroma. It's quite flat and, happily, I don't get very much of the savoury autolysis thing from its taste. Instead, it's chocolate all the way: an almost one-dimensional hit of cocoa-rich dark chocolate, with a backing of viscous caramel, a rapid shot of espresso, and a dusting of smoke on top. I said of the original that I found it mellow and soothing, and that's true here as well, but I think it may have lost some of the complexity, with no dark fruit apparent.

Still, it remains a beautiful sipping beer, dripping with a class which the brewery's marketing end never managed. While I don't think it has necessarily improved with the recipe change and the cellaring. it's still a very enjoyable, understated, high-end imperial stout.

Hopfully 12 Lovers

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2019 | ABV: 6.5% | On The Beer Nut: December 2019

Today is Baltic Porter Day. Confelicitations to all who celebrate; the rest of you, keep up. For the occasion I've dug out this one from Hopfully's contract brewing days, produced at what's now their headquarters in Waterford but back then was still Metalman Brewing. According to my contemporary review, I liked it, even though it didn't present typical Baltic porter features to any great extent. Let's see if it's become any more authentic after a spell in the stash.

It still pours well, with the head forming exactly as perfectly as when fresh. There's only a very faint dark chocolate hint in the aroma, perhaps suggesting that its dark lager nature has reasserted itself. I think it has dried out: the flavour doesn't have the chocolate and caramel I described in the original version.

Instead, it's grown-up and savoury profile: dried grape, winter spices and alcohol, somewhere between a posh mince pie and a Negroni. The finish is a tarry sort of bitterness, with some strong green herbs, al dente asparagus and a twist of black pepper. There's complexity for days, and what I've written covers merely one facet of it. It's still not quite a proper Baltic porter, however: too big and too sticky, suggesting that if they did use a lager yeast in the first place, it hasn't taken.

Nevertheless, I deem this a triumph of ageing canned beer. It was my only stashed can, so if you have one, now is great for drinking it.

Guinness Draught

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2018 | ABV: 4.2% | On The Beer Nut: n/a

In 2018, the Christmas gift from Diageo to the media people on its PR list was eight litres of Guinness Draught. A big box containing two eight-packs of 500ml cans arrived on my doorstep. It's not a beer I'm especially fond of, but over the ensuing months, well into 2019, I got through them, one by one. Coming towards the end, though I can't tell you exactly when, I thought I noticed something: was the flavour changing? Improving, even? Is there a case for including this unlikely beer in my dubious and disorganised vintage beer project? With the idea planted, there was no question of me not doing it, so the final can went into the stash.

15th August 2019 is the date on the bottom of it. It's no different on pouring to the fresh version: the widget has maintained its payload perfectly. There's a little bit of aroma, the nitrogen not killing that end of things off completely, though there's nothing special, just the typical Guinnessy mix of dark dry toast and sharper acidity.

It's in the flavour where I think we've had some evolution. It's definitely more flavoursome than when young, and I wish I had a fresh can to hand to compare. The tartness has both increased and become more rounded, adding a kind of classy balsamic vinegar effect. Conversely, that finishes on a sweeter note, with some chocolate, which is something in most stouts that I find missing in Guinness, and a little maraschino cherry. We're back to regular programming with the quick finish and minimal aftertaste. 

While it's far from a radical transformation, especially for a solid six years of ageing, equally I've reviewed canned beers on here to which less had happened. That bonus burst of complexity in the middle of the flavour makes it a worthwhile experiment. Flanders red is one of my favourite beer styles, and this seemed to be on its way to becoming one. I'm going to try the experiment again, but for longer.

Porterhouse Barrel Aged Celebration Stout

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2011 | ABV: 11% | On The Beer Nut: February 2012

This is the third version of Porterhouse Celebration Stout to feature on the blog, having already done the original 10% ABV one (twice!) and the 7% ABV regular one, now no longer in production. This is the Kilbeggan barrel-aged special that appeared briefly in the winter of 2011/12 and I don't think has been around since.

I was impressed by this when first tasted, admiring the big whiskey flavours and decadent chocolate richness, and also noticed that it was tricky getting a head to form. 12+ years later the head is a lost cause, fizzing away quickly to nothing on pouring. The aroma is fairly minimal, offering token custard-like vanilla but not much spirituous warmth. Thankfully the chocolate is still there in the flavour, and it hasn't picked up any nasty oxidation, which is always a worry with these pull-tab Porterhouse stoppers. There's whiskey too: I had thought it more bourbon-like when fresh, but age has mellowed it into the smooth and honeyish Irish whiskey I expected originally. There's no richness, however. The main thing that age has done to this is thin it out.

I can't say it has gained any extra complexity. It certainly doesn't taste like something that's been matured for over a decade. It's still very good, however, retaining much of what made it great in the first place. I'm glad this isn't my last bottle.