Naming this beer after the Sunshine Coast hinterland is spot on. The lushness of the hinterland grass brings to mind New Zealand, the proximity to the beach is perfect for tropical fruits, and the cozy fireplace winters are begging for a malt-powered beer.
To my mind, Hinterland Pale only just creeps into the pale ale category, since it’s not actually all that pale. It sits in the glass with a coppery depth, like you’ve got yourself a schooner full of bourbon. And it’s not just the colour that’s darker than normal; the caramelly malts enrich the flavour, giving more oomph than you might expect from a pale ale. I checked the side of the can after a few sips and was genuinely surprised that this pale only sits at 4.5 percent ABV.
Sticky caramel malt sweetness ties in with ripe tropical fruits from the Aussie and NZ hops, and there’s even some lovely alcohol flavours in there too. Without wanting to overstate it, I got a walnut liqueur character that was tasty and warming and bitter all at the same time.
From a 4.5 percent ABV pale ale. What’s going on?
Mick Wüst