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I hadn't seen much from Munich's answer to American-style craft brewing, Camba, in quite a while. Then three arrived at once.

Chiemsee Hopla is where we start. I'm guessing they're actually pitching to the American market now, evidenced by the volume presented in imperial units on the front of the can. It's a pale lager of 5.1% ABV, hopped with Citra, El Dorado and Hallertau Tradition, hoping for the best of both worlds, I guess.

It's on the pale side, given the decent strength, and there's a little haze going on. The aroma is rich and malt-driven, which I wasn't expecting: not much hop in evidence, though the can is less than five months old. That malt aroma doesn't really come through to the flavour, and here the beer is subtly fruity with a tannic dryness, like peach tea, with Citra adding a pinch of barely perceptible piney sharpness to the finish. The body is substantial, meaning it's missing proper lager crispness, which is unfortunate. While it is cleanly flavoured, it could easily pass for an ordinary American-style pale ale. Not a complaint, just an observation. This is fine.

More fireworks were expected from Camba's Imperial IPA, the name evidencing another Americanism. This is 8.9% ABV and hopped with Columbus, Citra and Amarillo to 77 IBUs, suggesting it's going to be hella bitter. It doesn't look great, short on head and the medium amber body full of suspended yeasty clumps. Malt is promised in the description and it certainly smells sweet, with more than a hint of toffee hitting up against funky, ripe-fruit hops.

The two sides works quite harmoniously in the flavour. Yes, it's hopped in a huge way, with a spicy bitterness arriving first on the tongue. Immediately this is softened by the pillowy body and a marmalade and spongecake sweet side, with a zesty fresh mandarin element too. That mutes the bitterness somewhat, so it's not quite a 2010-style overhopped tongue-melter, but rather the balanced sort of extreme beer. I liked how it goes about its business, delivering bigness and boldness but with nuance and balance as well. It's not the first time I've noticed this in a German take on a new-world style, and it's always welcome.

Finally, I thought I was in for something uncharacteristically traditional when I came to Jager Weisse, a weissbier, and presented not in a can but a half litre bottle. That this wasn't going to be by-the-numbers was first indicated by the appearance, which has an almost kristall level of clarity, though that's not mentioned on the label. An aroma of banana? Absolutely not: this smells like an American IPA, of grapefruit and lemon zest. It transpires that Simcoe and Chinook hops have been used here, putting us perhaps in "hopfenweisse" territory, though judging by the aroma it's not one interested in harnessing the traditional weissbier aspects.

There is a sweetness to the flavour, and a tiny hint of clove ester, but that's as close to the profile as it gets. Otherwise the taste is dominated by the C-hops, low-balling the citric bitter side but emphasising candied lemon and lime jelly. As such, it's a rather jolly affair: not especially challenging but bright and spritzy, unserious but characterful, and as precisely constructed as one would expect from a Bavarian brewery. There is much to like here.

They've done a great job of matching American flavours with Bavarian quality. If these beers are landing in the US, I doubt the drinkers there will find anything too unfamiliar in them.