Why This French IPA Actually Works

Most breweries trying the "French touch" on an IPA end up with something cloying and thin, because they add fruit late in the boil and call it artistry. The approach Au Bord De Leau Ipa takes is more restrained: dry-hopping with traditional French varieties, a lighter body that still carries the bitterness, and finishing notes that don't fight the drinker. It's the kind of beer you can actually have more than one of without regret. I spent about three weeks dialing in a clone batch at home last fall. My first mistake was using cascade hops as the primary aroma hop, assuming any British-style pale ale recipe could be copied over. The bitterness spiked to 80 IBU and the finish tasted like pine needles. I swapped to a combination of Hallertau Mittelfrüh and a small packet of Typhoon for the bittering, then late-added Fuggle for aroma. The balance shifted dramatically. The grain bill stayed simple — Pilsner malt with just enough Munich for warmth — and the final gravity came out around 1.010. Not bone dry, but crisp enough to highlight the hop character without the cloying sweetness most homebrewers chase.

Au Bord De Leau Ipa

Here's the straightforward recipe breakdown if you're attempting your own version. Target OG around 1.055, IBU 55-65, SRM 6-8. That puts you squarely in the sessionable IPA zone — strong enough to taste the complexity, light enough to not feel like a chore. The yeast matters more than people realize. Wyeast 3056 (German Ale) or White Labs WLP001 (California Ale) both work. I went with 3056 because it leaves a slightly crisper finish that complements the hop profile. Ferment at 64-66°F for the first week, then ramp to 70°F for the final few days to clean up any diacetyl. Don't skip the diacetyl rest — it's what separates a "malty" beer from a clean one, and I've seen too many brewers skip this step and wonder why their IPA tastes like popped corn. Water chemistry is where most homebrewers stumble on this style. Aim for sulfate around 150-200 ppm, chloride near 50 ppm. The higher sulfate-to-chloride ratio emphasizes hop bitterness without making it harsh. If your tap water already runs high in sulfates, you can skip the gypsum addition and just add calcium chloride to hit the chloride target. Mine runs about 120 ppm sulfate naturally, so I only needed a pinch of calcium chloride to adjust.

What Makes This One Different

The naming convention — French title, IPA style — creates an expectation that doesn't always match reality. Some breweries lean too hard into the European identity and end up with a hazy, fruit-forward New England IPA that has nothing to do with the classic English/Belgian crossover styles. Au Bord De Leau Ipa stays closer to the traditional pale ale lineage, which means you'll get that bready malt backbone you'd find in a well-made Belgian golden, paired with American hop intensity. It's a deliberate tension, not an accident. Another thing beginners miss: the hop timing. Late bittering additions (15 minutes left) are standard, but the real magic happens with the whirlpool hop. I started adding hops at 175°F during the whirlpool and letting them sit for 20 minutes. This technique extracts more aromatic oils without adding extra bitterness. The result is a beer that hits you with citrus and floral notes upfront, then settles into that clean, crisp finish I mentioned earlier.

Common Problems and Solutions

If your clone turns out harsh and astringent, check your sparge pH. A pH above 6.0 during sparging pulls out tannins from the grain husks, which makes the beer taste like strong tea. Keep it below 5.8 and you'll avoid that problem entirely. I learned this the hard way when my second batch came out tasting like I'd steeped a black tea bag in hot water for twenty minutes. Dropped the sparge pH to 5.7 and the issue vanished. Another issue I ran into: the beer looked hazy even after cold crashing. I was using a high proportion of wheat malt in the grain bill (around 10%), which contributes to protein haze. For a cleaner finish, drop the wheat to 5% or swap it for flaked maize, which adds body without the haze. The tradeoff is slightly less head retention, but most people won't notice unless they're comparing side-by-side. Storage is another factor. Unlike some hop-forward styles that benefit from aging, Au Bord De Leau Ipa loses its character after about four months. The hop aromatics fade quickly, and you're left with a bitter, one-dimensional beer. Drink it young — within two to three months of packaging. If you want a hoppy beer you can cellar, go for a Double IPA or an imperial stout instead.

Get the Full Details

au bord de leau
au bord de leau

Where to Find It

Availability varies by region, which is frustrating but honest to say. In France, you might find it at specialty beer shops or directly from the brewery. Internationally, it shows up occasionally at importers who focus on European craft beers. The secondary market on Untappd and Beer Advocate sometimes lists current bottle availability, though those databases aren't always up to date. If you can't track down a bottle, the homebrew route is genuinely rewarding. The recipe isn't complex, the ingredients are widely available, and the margin for error is wider than most IPAs. Just don't treat it like a throwaway project — put some effort into the water chemistry and fermentation temperature, and you'll get something close to the original. I've had batches from my kitchen that I'd confidently serve at a dinner party without anyone knowing the difference. The effort pays off because this style sits in a sweet spot between approachable and interesting. It's not as aggressive as a double IPA, not as obscure as a traditional Belgian quadrupel. It's the kind of beer that starts conversations without requiring a lecture to appreciate. That's probably why the brewer chose the name in the first place — it sounds more exotic than it actually is, which draws people in, then the beer itself does the rest.

Final Thoughts

I don't recommend this style if you're looking for a quick beer or something to drink while doing absolutely nothing. It rewards attention — the aroma, the balance, the way the bitterness evolves as the glass warms. But if you're willing to give it five or ten minutes of actual focus, it delivers. More than most mass-produced IPAs, anyway.