I’ve said some nasty things about Epic in the past, so in credit-where-due spirit, Mayhem is awesome. It’s one of a few variant editions of the Epic Pale, and addresses all of that beer’s shortcomings nicely. It’s vastly maltier and ‘beerier’ in the body (and a bit boozier too, as a result) and is thereby much better balanced. But it’s still astonishingly hoppy and aromatic, with New Zealand-developed Riwaka hops in there alongside the usual American Cascade — so the big hop notes aren’t just striking in one place like they do in the Pale. To re-purpose Epic’s particularly-stupid marketing phrase, this really Just Tastes Bigger, in all directions, and is vastly better for it. But more importantly than merely being “better” than the Pale Ale, this is, on its own merits, bloody lovely.

Afterthoughts, February 2011: I remember liking liking this, if you follow what I mean. I really grumped about the Pale Ale, partially because it was so absurdly popular — hailed as the best-ever by any number of otherwise-plausible people, when I thought the most you could say in its favour was that it was a well-made example of that intentionally off-kilter hop-nonsensed sort of beer. Stunt beer. Boy racer beer, as my colleague Ben used to say. It wasn’t badly made, it was just boringly flashy and it mystified me that so many people had it as their standby everday ‘session’ beer. I like those beers sometimes, but worried about how, if you drank it all the time, your tastebuds must resemble an apocalyptic wasteland — and whether that was the cause of the Epic-sessioning, or its effect.

In fairness, Epic Pale has massively improved. There was one horror-batch as the malt in the recipe was changed around in Luke’s absence, but after that things stabilised nicely and the beer became considerably more drinkable, I thought. If anything, now the real irony is that Tuatara’s APA — designed fairly shamelessly as a bandwagoning local-sales-stealer — is just that bit better yet; it’s certainly less one-note and more balanced. Epic Pale was necessary to push people in this hoppy direction, but is now in danger of watching its students become its master, perhaps.

Verbatim: Epic Mayhem 19/2/09 380ml 6.5% $9 @ Malty. After nasty words about the Pale, this is great. Much maltier underneath and with the passionfruity Riwaka hop alongside the US Cascade. So deeper and wider. Actually balanced, still remarkably hoppy. Altogether very good.

My payment for helping George and Robyn (mostly Robyn, actually, since George was wounded) move their furniture around in readiness for renovations.

It’s basically a ruthlessly traditional IPA. Originally, IPA was what happened when the English over-hopped and strengthened up their ales, so they’d survive the commute out to the colonials in India. This one is oak barrel aged, to simulate some of that, and so despite being bottle conditioned, it pours flat as a pancake. It’s a nice muted reddy brown, and has a good apricotty hoppiness at the start and a citrusy zing in the tail. George and I thought it was great fun, and nicely quaffable — especially considering it’s actually 6.5%. I can easily imagine it’d be hated by many, even by many who consider themselves IPA fans. But I’ve long thought that you get extra points for being ballsy enough to be hated by some people, if it means doing a very-particular thing well. (See also, e.g., South coast Islay whisky.)

Verbatim: Peak Brewery Monkey Point IPA. 27/1/09 500ml 6.5%. Payment for lugging stuff. Understatedly organic. Seems hugely traditional. Oak aged IPA, which they would be, of course, in transit. Nearly flat, despite bottle conditioning. Apricotty and indeed oakey, it’s mild with a little fresh citrusy back end. Quite quaffable.

(Also, on Australia Day yesterday: a Creatures Pale, a Cooper’s Sparkling longneck and Pale. And a VB.)

Afterthoughts, November 2010: Here’s me, falling into the Captivating But Wrong Old Story about IPA. It turns out that IPA wasn’t at all “designed” to be shipped out to the colonies; the story is much more accidental and circumstantial than that. As you’d be right to expect, Martyn Cornell has nicely dealt with the topic on his blogthing.

I must also warn that this brewery, while capable of producing some lovely beers, does have a shockingly-bad occasional problem with infected batches / bottles. And when this one goes bad, as it too-often does, it goes horrid; full of a fizzy, strawberry-yoghurt flavour. Ranker than rank. Although one memorable customer at work one night did come in asking if we had the “strawberry-flavoured Peak beer” — he’d evidently had an infected bottle, and enjoyed it. To each their own, I suppose.