
Wild Muff owes its puerile name to the yeast, harvested from a forest near the brewery. Based on Chevalier barley, it was fermented out in Sauvignon Blanc casks, left for 27 months to let the yeast ply its trade. The result is a sparkling golden amber beer of 5.8% ABV, looking like something from a Dutch renaissance painting.
The white wine is apparent from the aroma, mellow and melony, with just a naughty nip of tartness alongside. The texture is light and brisk, and the flavour reminds me of Flanders red in particular: balsamic resins, macerated cherries and a charming matured warmth. At the same time it's definitely a pale beer, with a crispness not dissimilar to geuze.
If this was an experiment, it's one well worth repeating. The result is very pleasant drinking and shows all the hallmarks of good Belgian-style sour ale with none of the shortcuts. I suppose that taking over two years to produce means it would really want to.

The flavour is rather mellower, I'm happy to say. I assume the vats are made of oak because there's a lot of smooth, assured and matured, vanilla on display here. Spanish wine comes to mind: the correct level of Rioja richness; the ripe-to-bursting grape juice effect meeting more astringent raisin and sparks of black pepper and old leather.
This is pretty much exactly what anyone would want agéd, oakéd porter to be: bold, distinctive, yet worringly drinkable. If you didn't like it, tell me why and I'll explain why you're wrong.
It's a delightful luxury to have so much wine-barrel-aged beer coming out of Irish breweries who know how to do it well (see also Wednesday's post). Long may this niche remain viable.