Wednesday, December 23, 2009

On the ninth day of Christmas...

Stoudt's Brewing Company brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Stoudt's Winter Ale, a 6.2% abv. red ale.

Well, we're getting down to the nitty gritty. One six-pack has already been torn through, and the second one's numbers are dwindling. We've traveled to San Francisco and the fields of Belgium, stopped in the Philly suburbs and even made it to Kalamazoo and back, all the while testing my palette in ways both good and bad.

And it's time for a break. Well, a semi-break. I've maxed out my ability to write flowery, saliva-inducing reviews, so today I'll leave you simply with this: drank beer with some old friends, enjoyed said beer but the the company even more.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to go get the pole -- always aluminum, high strength-to-weight ratio-- out of the crawl space.

Monday, December 21, 2009

On the eight day of Christmas...


Anchor Brewery brought to me: a stubby 12 oz. bottle of Our Special Ale 2009, a classic 5.5% abv. winter warmer.

Each year, every beer drinker has a few seasonals on their must-try list. Last year's might have tasted like a mix of dirty bath water and Red Hots, but dammit [insert brewery here] will redeem themselves this time with something delicious. More often than not, the second time around is no better than the first. I still regret that second bottle of Harpoon Winter Warmer, even more noxious than the first if that's possible. Then there are those beers that are just plain good, year in and year out -- nothing spectacular, nothing earth-shattering enough to send the beer geekdom into a rage. Just good.

Our Special Ale, no matter the year, is one of those for me, as is Sierra's Celebration Ale. Instead of reviewing them both, I'll just leave it at this: I've already enjoyed a few Celebrations this year.

Pours a deep brown with touches of red sneaking through when it's held to light. A couple fingers of off-white head sit on top, lingering around for a while. This beer smells like Christmas: handfuls of cloves and a dusting of fresh nutmeg stirred into whole wheat bread dough tinged with molasses, vanilla and red fruits. As it warms I pick up a little more pine than at first. Sweet up front, not nearly as spiced as the nose with a nice balance of malty richness and an earthy, piney bitterness offered by the hops. Flavors are really subdued, with nothing jumping out of the glass at me. Sips nicely, with a light-medium body and solid carbonation, just enough to cut through some of the early sweetness. Paired beautifully with a handful of cayenne-cinnamon candied walnuts and almonds.

This is what I want in a winter warmer. Enough spice to let me know it's Christmas, but with something in the background so I don't feel like I'm sucking on a cinnamon stick.

Only four more left! Lurkers -- I know there are a few out there, buy some beer and give me a little help. I don't know if I can hold out on my own.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

On the seventh day of Christmas...


Brasserie Des Geants brought to me: an 11.2 oz. bottle of Noel Des Geants, termed an herbed/spiced beer by the folks at Beer Advocate and tipping the scales at 8.50% abv.

I've been in a celebratory mood all day. Last night Penn State women's volleyball team extended its winning streak to an unthinkable 102 matches and in the process hoisted its third consecutive national championship -- this after falling behind Texas 2-0. Then the Steelers rallied, faded, and rallied again to keep their slim playoff hopes alive this afternoon with a last second touchdown pass from Big Ben to 60 Minutes' anchor-cum-Steelers' wideout Mike Wallace. Phew, what a win... too bad it brings their record to 7-7, again still a long shot for the last AFC Wildcard slot.

Where were we? Right, celebration. Somehow I need to tie all this sports talk back to beer, which brings me to today's brew, Noel Des Geants. When I think Belgians, I think occasions. Sure I like to incorporate them into the usual rotation every now and again, though I'm inclined to support small(ish) breweries and buy American. But when there's something to celebrate, the aura surrounding these historic breweries (Brasserie Des Geants is housed in a castle dating to the 13th century) draws me in their direction. Today fits the bill. Not only are we toasting the ladies of Penn State and the Steelers, but we're marking the start of the second half of the journey through the land of Christmas beer.

Pours a cloudy caramel amber, bordering on brown, with a finger of fluffy white head with really solid retention. Lots of spice on the nose, heavy on the cloves, with a good dose of red fruit and some molasses lingering in the background. Quite sweet to start, in a cinnamon cookie sort of way. The spices definitely play nicely with the underlying malts kissed with caramel sweetness. A touch of fruit creeps up in the mid palate, followed by a warming feel from the alcohol. Finish is a tad bitter, but not overwhelmingly so. In my mind, a quintessential winter seasonal. This has a good bit going on, but for the level of alcohol, is scarily drinkable. Complex, but easy and enjoyable enough to drink -- what more can one ask for in a beer?

Well, this was the most expensive of the 12 pack, so I could nitpick and say I want this stuff at Natty prices. But I won't.

Note: Seven beers down, and five to go. Nothing has jumped out at me as a real 'wow' beer, but I haven't been terribly, terribly shocked or disappointed, either. I think this exercise is revealing a lot about the breadth of beers available on the winter seasonal spectrum.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

On the sixth day of Christmas...


Bell's Brewery brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Bell's Special Double Cream Stout, a 6.1% abv. milk stout, according to the fine folks at Beer Advocate.

It's snowing. Hard. I awoke this morning to a few inches, and the pace hasn't altered much, leaving the Northeast blanketed with 12-plus inches of the fluffy white stuff. Needless to say I haven't left the apartment once today, and after a hearty meal of steak and potatoes (pan seared ribeye with dijon roasted potatoes) I needed a hearty beer. Something about this kind of weather brings out some sort of uber-masculinity in me that can only be sated with big hunks of meat and a rich, dark stout. Twice in one week it's happened, though I'm not complaining.

Pours ink black with a finger of tan head that sticks around for the duration and leaves some nice lacing. A little coffee creeps out of the glass, but overall the aroma is pretty muted with some roastiness/biscuit becoming apparent on second whiff. A sip leaves me thinking much the same thing: nothing offensive in here, but nothing all that impressive either. Some caramel/toffee sweetness hits first, followed by some smoky malt notes and a touch of chocolate. There's a lingering bitterness, bordering on soapiness, that I'm not all too fond of. That finish does make it easy to go back in for another sip though, if only to erase its remnants, and I made short work of the glass.

This beer looks great, but I can't help but being underwhelmed. The flavors are there. They just aren't reaching their full potential. Six down, six to go!

Friday, December 18, 2009

On the fifth day of Christmas...


Boulder Beer Company brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Never Summer Ale, a 5.94% winter warmer from Boulder Beer Company in Colorado.

For the second straight day, I struggled to decide which of the eight remaining beers to gift to myself. Instead of contracting out the job as I did yesterday, I reached blindly into the fridge and out came a chilly bottle of Never Summer Ale. Fair enough, I'll give it a shot. I remember trying Boulder's Hazed & Infused a while back, and to be honest, I can't remember if I liked it or not. I probably did; that's usually the case with beer. All right, enough with the pleasantries -- on with the tasting.

Pours a nice coppery brown, capped with a finger off fluffy off-white head that disappeared quickly but clung heartily to the the sides of the glass. Smell doesn't give any hints of this being a winter warmer. There's a faint floral hop aroma -- not getting much else. There's a touch of caramel sweetness up front, followed by a burst of grapefruit bitterness backed up with notes of roasted malt, toffee and biscuits that I can't quite pinpoint and I don't much like. Some bitterness lingers, led off by a slightly off metallic flavor. This would be pretty drinkable stuff were it not for the finish.

Is this really a winter warmer? In the sense that I expected some spice, something evocative of the season, I'd say no, probably not. But the style is pretty indiscernible. Tasting vaguely of gingerbread does not a winter warmer make, I suppose. That said, this isn't a bad beer. It's reminiscent of many regular old ales I've had and deemed quite worthy. Just goes to show that labeling affects one's tasting mindset.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

On the fourth day of Christmas...


Otter Creek Brewing Company (Middlebury, Vt.) brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Otter Creek Winter Ale Raspberry Brown, a 5.8% abv. American Brown Ale.

This the fourth day of my excursion through the world of holiday and seasonal brews brought indecision: Which beer should I try next? I picked up 12 singles on a weekend visit to the D.C. area last weekend (shh... no one tell the PLCB!) and with nine shiny bottle caps staring up at me from their cardboard cradles, I was having a hell of a time making up my mind on which to taste tonight. Fortunately, I have a roommate, so I entrusted the decision making to him. After a blind draw he pulled out the Otter Creek, a beer that I haven't tasted and admittedly was a little skeptical about. Come on, raspberry brown?

Pours a reddish brown with a thin layer of tan head, minimal lacing. At first, the nose wasn't revealing much -- maybe a bit of roasted malts typical of the style -- then after peaking my nose into the glass a few more times I got a vague scent of raspberries. A fairly pleasant scent, actually, one reminiscent of the tang of a freshly picked pint (of berries, that is). I get lots of roasted malt up front with a little caramel, followed by an interlude of raspberry sweetness/tartness -- slightly akin to cherry Coke. Pretty one-note stuff. The finish is slightly off-putting, a melange of almost acrid bitterness and artificial fruit flavoring. Mouthfeel is solid, smooth, about what you'd expect.

I guess I went into this not expecting much, and ended up not getting much in return. Not bad, not good. Probably wouldn't recommend it, but it is better than some other fruity beer offerings I've had lately. (I'm looking at you Sam Adams Cranberry Lambic.)

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

On the third day of Christmas...


Brooklyn Brewery brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Black Chocolate Stout, a Russian Imperial stout weighing in at 10% abv. and by all definitions meant for leisurely sipping and enjoyment.

When I went outside earlier tonight, I got a whiff of Christmas. For the first time this year, that winter smell -- a mix of pine needles, fired furnaces and cold -- smacked my face as I headed to my car en route to the grocery store. I thought immediately, Tonight's the night for chocolate stout -- dark, syrupy, opulently chocolately chocolate stout.

Pours jet black with a thin layer of brown/tan head. (There probably should have been more head, but I blame my glassware, which probably wasn't cleaned properly -- damn roommates!) Smells strongly of chocolate with maybe a touch of coffee and raisin. First sip unleashes tons of bittersweet chocolately goodness, met with strong bitter black coffee. Some sweetness peaks through -- raisins, prunes -- but the roasted coffee/chocolate flavors predominate. Oh, and the alcohol makes its presence felt, coming through in the finish with a nice warming feel. I'm guessing this would age well, as some of the alcoholic notes might mellow.

I'm not a big fan of Imperial stouts, but this is one of the most flavorful, interesting, and complex ones I've tasted to date. Now if only I had a fireplace to sit in front of while I sipped it.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

On the second day of Christmas...


Magic Hat brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Howl, their winter seasonal brewed in the style of a schwarzbier.

I've never been a big fan of Magic Hat. The ubiquitous No. 9 never interested me. Circus Boy is drinkable, but there are way better examples of the style out there. Same goes for Lucky Kat, their IPA. But 'tis the season for forgiveness, so I went into this tasting with a clear mind and an open heart.

Howl pours quite dark with hints of red peaking through as it's held to light. Some solid head perched on top, a finger or two of fluffy off-white foam that sticks around for the duration. A sniff reveals notes of chocolate, coffee and some toasted grain, along with a whiff of caramel. Taste is much the same -- nice balance of chocolately sweetness and roasted malts, not sweet but definitely not dry. Just enough bitterness lingers on the tongue to warrant taking another sip, then another one soon after. This stuff has a little body to it, but it's light enough to be eminently drinkable. The 4.6% abv doesn't hurt, either. All said a pretty tasty beer, and it paired nicely with these:
Magic Hat, you have redeemed yourself. And I don't think it's just the Christmas spirit in me talking.

Monday, December 14, 2009

On the first day of Christmas...


Victory brought to me: a 12 oz. bottle of Yakima Twilight Ale. (Sorry, no rhymes.)

It's fitting to start with a brew from Downington, Pa's Victory Brewing Company -- just a short sled ride east on Rt. 30 from my apartment in Wayne. I'm surprised it's taken me so long to taste this beer, which replaces Hop Wallop as Victory's November to January offering, as heaps of praise have been tossed its way.

Fortunately, the wait's over.

The label reads,
The Yakima Valley of Washington is the heartland of American hops, having contributed uniquely flavorful varieties that have helped to redefine American brewing. Late summer harvest yields the bounty that builds this exciting ale. Vibrant and aromatic, this is their moment of glory as the vines have withered by the time you sip this. Dark malts warm the hops' bright edge bringing harmony to the finish. Rest well hop roots. Spring will come and we'll be thirsty again!

Now that's a description. I challenge you to read it without salivating or arriving at the last line holding your cap over your heart as you wish these noble hops a well deserved winter rest.

I let this warm a bit then poured it into my Duvel tulip. Pours a dense mahogany brown, tinged orange, with a 1/2 finger of fluffy tan head. The aroma roars up the walls of the glass, bursting forth with notes of piney citrus backed by rich, bready malts. First sip begins with the same hop intensity: sharp, dry, bitter hoppy in the best sense of the word. Then the Munich malts kick in, countering the citrus edge with an almost roasted graininess. The bitterness hangs on, leaving the mouth dry but thirsting for another sip. This stuff is 8.7% abv, and that's apparent, though not unwelcome or overbearing in anyway. Full-bodied, chewy -- this is a good sipping beer and a beaut to look at, as the tan head begins to dissipate, its last vestiges clinging nicely to the side of glass in sticky rings.

What will my true love bring tomorrow? Be sure to come back and find out!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The 12 Days of Christmas Beer


Here's the deal; it's pretty simple. Starting next Monday -- 12 days from Christmas, though you probably figured that by now -- I'll sample a winter seasonal or Christmas beer every day until a sloshed Santa stumbles outta the hearth and searches in vain for a tray of handmade cookies to sate his drunken appetite only to come up with a couple Trader Joe's Cat Cookie crumbs strewn on the floor next to the couch.

Hopefully I'll be joined on this adventure by one or two guest bloggers, so we might end up tasting more than 12 beers. Or the guest blogger might try the same beer I do, and we'll use the post to compare our thoughts.

This should be fun. Winter seasonals are an interesting bunch, ranging from spice bombs loaded with cinnamon and cloves to understated lagers and deep, rich doppelbocks. Also in the offing is something to eat along side these winter elixirs: dark chocolate truffles laced with mocha porter.