When the cap of your bottle of beer is sealed with a layer of thick black wax, then you know you're holding a bit a cellar beast. If said beast comes with this spiffy typical de Molen label, anticipation soars through the rooftop.
De Molen use semi-funny, ampersand-empowered names for their beers, and this one is no exception. Haver&Gort translates quite literally to "Oats&Grits", which makes sense when you read the label. As usual, you're left in the dark as to exactly what kind of "Extra strong beer" this will be, but I was informed by those in the know: this is an (Russian) Imperial Stout.
It pours like syrup; a thick, almost gloopy, pitch black monster of a brew, topped with a surprisingly lively tan head, which settles to a creamy froth. Oh my, what a sight.
In the nose, you get an explosive richness which I've come to expect from the Molen's heavy stouts. You get some coffee, a bit of chocolate, and lots and lots of dark dried fruits. Figs and apricots, mostly, overlayed with a boozy, almost peaty maltiness. There's something vastly intriguing about the nose of this one, an intangible whiff of smoky heat, like the residual smell of a woodstove on winter mornings. Just a smidgeon of grainy, cerealy, oatmealy suaveness too.
I've no idea just what kind of barrel the Haver&Gort was aged in, but I'm guessing it's whisky. Never fear: the oak is there, and just a hint of peat, but it's never the main feature.
The mouthfeel is perversely sensual: silken, smooth and full bodied like a wanton maiden. Low carbonation, which is just what I expect from a 12.5% ABV stout, and the booziness just adds to the sensuality of the mouthfeel. A truly sensational sip.
Aroma-wise, there's layers and layers and more layers still, of peat and smoke, and coffee and the aforementioned figs, with that gentle, but pervasive undercurrent of oats and black fruits. With the aroma comes the realisation that part of the intangibility I mentioned earlier is caused by clever little winks to that other heavy beer style, the barley wine (recently dubbed Quadruple by beergeeks and commercial scumbags alike): a heavy, dense impression of very complex maltiness.
It's mainly a bitter beer, caused by the presence of a number of roasted and smoked barley malts, and the presence of hops is hardly noticable, if at all. A high gravity yields a sweetness which, combined with the incredible mouthfeel, perfectly complements the bitterness and makes this a treat unlike any other.
While this is a great beer, it's not quite the beast I anticipated. In fact, it is a stunning exercise in the balance of extremes, resulting in a peaceful, yet powerful equilibrium of bitter and sweet, of bold and temperate, of guts and glory.
A word of advice: stock up on a couple of bottles of this brew. Store them safely in your cellar, and then forget about them. Or pretend you can. After a couple of months, give in temptation, and on a quiet evening, taste just one. Take your time. Steal the moment.
Then, for the next twenty five years, remember to forget those other bottles. They really are that good.
Greetz
Jo
PS: oh, you were wondering about my brews? I'll tell you more about those in just a few more days.
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| Pic not actually mine since camera AWOL. |
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| Which means "Pimped Up Kickass Stout Extreme To The Max" for the uninitiated |
It pours like syrup; a thick, almost gloopy, pitch black monster of a brew, topped with a surprisingly lively tan head, which settles to a creamy froth. Oh my, what a sight.
In the nose, you get an explosive richness which I've come to expect from the Molen's heavy stouts. You get some coffee, a bit of chocolate, and lots and lots of dark dried fruits. Figs and apricots, mostly, overlayed with a boozy, almost peaty maltiness. There's something vastly intriguing about the nose of this one, an intangible whiff of smoky heat, like the residual smell of a woodstove on winter mornings. Just a smidgeon of grainy, cerealy, oatmealy suaveness too.
I've no idea just what kind of barrel the Haver&Gort was aged in, but I'm guessing it's whisky. Never fear: the oak is there, and just a hint of peat, but it's never the main feature.
The mouthfeel is perversely sensual: silken, smooth and full bodied like a wanton maiden. Low carbonation, which is just what I expect from a 12.5% ABV stout, and the booziness just adds to the sensuality of the mouthfeel. A truly sensational sip.
Aroma-wise, there's layers and layers and more layers still, of peat and smoke, and coffee and the aforementioned figs, with that gentle, but pervasive undercurrent of oats and black fruits. With the aroma comes the realisation that part of the intangibility I mentioned earlier is caused by clever little winks to that other heavy beer style, the barley wine (recently dubbed Quadruple by beergeeks and commercial scumbags alike): a heavy, dense impression of very complex maltiness.
It's mainly a bitter beer, caused by the presence of a number of roasted and smoked barley malts, and the presence of hops is hardly noticable, if at all. A high gravity yields a sweetness which, combined with the incredible mouthfeel, perfectly complements the bitterness and makes this a treat unlike any other.
While this is a great beer, it's not quite the beast I anticipated. In fact, it is a stunning exercise in the balance of extremes, resulting in a peaceful, yet powerful equilibrium of bitter and sweet, of bold and temperate, of guts and glory.
A word of advice: stock up on a couple of bottles of this brew. Store them safely in your cellar, and then forget about them. Or pretend you can. After a couple of months, give in temptation, and on a quiet evening, taste just one. Take your time. Steal the moment.
Then, for the next twenty five years, remember to forget those other bottles. They really are that good.
Greetz
Jo
PS: oh, you were wondering about my brews? I'll tell you more about those in just a few more days.
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