I’ll be the first to admit the title of this post is
slightly misleading because what I’ve been thinking about over the last few
weeks is how several of the beers I’ve drank recently should have been classed
as an IPA but they haven’t mentioned those three immortal little letters on
their label. With modern craft IPA being such a beer du jour it should make sense that in order to sell more of
your beer you should print those three letters in a giant font on your label in
order to suck in hop perverts like myself. Not all brewers are in it for the
money (although it’s surely a motivational aspect of your chosen career) but it
seems to be absolutely essential for craft breweries to include a well hopped
IPA in their resume.
![]() |
| Plenty of room on this label for three more letters |
Take, just as an example, New Belgium in the USA.
They specialise in producing modern and very Americanised takes on classic
Belgian styles of beer but one of their best sellers is Ranger which is an
incredibly well hopped IPA. Now correct me if I’m wrong but last time I checked
those funky Belgian monks weren’t chucking armfuls of Cascade and Chinook into
their mash tuns. Unsurprisingly Ranger sells very well, it’s a fantastic beer
and no doubt some of the revenue this beer generates funds their more
experimental brews such as Biere de Mars and La Folie.
The modern style of IPA, heavily dry-hopped with lashings of
American hops is without question my favourite style of beer, I could drink it
all day long and quite often do. After drinking the two beers I’m going to look
at during the course of this blog my mind cogs started whirring, they
definitely had all the qualities of a solid IPA but they don’t play on this
fact in order to shift more units. Perhaps their brewmasters do not consider
these beers to be IPAs, maybe they are off-kilter or perhaps something else
entirely? When you think about it, when does pale ale become India pale ale? Surely this is indicated by
an ABV of at least 5.5% or above (if it’s
not been watered down of course) and has been well hopped to ‘survive its
journey across the ocean’. Of course much of the IPA we drink today hasn’t been
brewed to survive an arduous ocean journey, we just like the way it tastes, so
why the hell do we still label it with the word India when that doesn’t really have a great deal of association
with this beer in it’s modern form. Of course it would be incredibly bold and very wrong of me to dismiss centuries of brewing history with one swing of a stick but have you ever though just how relevent the IPA tag really is in modern brewing?
Of course it says IPA so that beer lovers like us can find
the beers WE want to drink, for me those three little letters simply indicate
that this might just be another great beer waiting to be discovered. The first
of the two beers I’m going to devour during the course of this article fails to
mention this anywhere obvious on it’s simple yet incredibly effective label and
that beer is Marble Dobber. It was down to the recommendation of others that I
discovered the Marble brewery who unlike many of their fellow Northern Craft
Brewers seem to shun mass social networking and their website gives very little
information away. If you Google any Marble beer you are met not with a well
designed and thoughtful website but instead with a plethora of blogs that
almost unanimously sing their praise and it is because of us, the bloggers that
Marble have gained such a stalwart reputation.
The first couple of Marble beers I had were very enjoyable,
I really like their Lagonda IPA and their Chocolate Stout is one of my
favourite examples of that style but it was when I finally got hold of my first
bottle of Dobber that Marble gained a special place in my heart. I’m sure many
of you reading this (in the UK at least) will have tried and loved Dobber, it
leaps out of the bottle lively as anything, smacks you round the face with
huge chunks of pineapple, heaving great slabs of mango and hides almost all but a smidgen of booze which lingers in the back of your throat as you swallow. In a decades
time we will still be drinking this beer with hushed reverence, it’s a
beautifully British example of a modern craft IPA, or is it? For me it most
definitely is, it has all the hallmarks that make craft IPAs great, huge hops
on a massive malt backbone perfectly balanced and dangerously drinkable. Would
it be even more popular if the minimalist pea-green label said Dobber IPA?
![]() |
| That little red bastard owl stole my wallet |
I am a man of simple mind, I am easily taken in when a
selection of cool ‘n’ kooky new beers shimmy into town and this was most
definitely the case when Hitachino Nest beers arrived in the UK.
I immediately fell in love with that little owl and had to procure some of
their beers, if I was quick enough I could maybe blog about them before anyone
else and how cool would that be! When I did finally get hold of some I thought
of how silly I had been and decided, like with most of the beer I drink to just
enjoy it, by myself, in the comfort of my own home. I often wonder if the
Internet really needs to know of each and every beer I consume complete with
‘arty’ photo taken on Instagram. I know some of you like it, and I love seeing
what other people are drinking but I can’t help but feel that many of my
non-beery mates are simply baffled by this activity. So sometimes I don’t tell
the Internet what I’m drinking, but that’s not because I don’t love you all
very much, it’s because it still sometimes feels a little bit silly.
So I wasn’t going to blog about the quite frankly excellent
beers from Hitachino Nest but I felt that their Nipponia was quite suited to this post, in fact it probably
inspired it. This well malted and well hopped brew uses the Kaneki Golden
barley malt and the now world renowned Sorachi Ace hop. Nipponia is simply
described on its label as ‘ale’ and weighs in at a reasonable 6.5% ABV
but are we in IPA territory? Well if American breweries can use all American
ingredients and describe a beer as an IPA and if British breweries can use all
British ingredients and describe a beer as an IPA then why can’t the Japanese?
Nipponia pours a very pale gold colour and produces a nice
creamy head that leaves a ring of foam around the edge of the glass. It has a pungent
nose of jasmine, melon and elderflower with just a hint of caramel and has some
lively carbonation going on in the glass. For me the Sorachi Ace hop provides a
very herbal almost medicinal flavour which is very much present in this beer
but there are also hints of lemongrass and lychee with the malt tasting of rice
cakes that have been dipped brown sugar.
The finish is bone dry, the beer is wonderfully refreshing and despite the
slightly medicinal taste I was left begging for another sip. It’s a
quintessentially Japanese take on a style of beer that is dominated by brews
from the US and
the UK (not
forgetting a certain Danish Gypsy brewer of course) but once again I ask the
question, is this beer an IPA?










