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woensdag 26 juni 2013

Mini Magic BeerGeek Night

You know what's fun about all those big ass brews out there? Those more-is-better, bigger, bolder, boozier brews? Those "anything below 10% ABV is for frail old ladies and babies" brews? You know what's fun about those?

They practically scream to shared.

So when Fellow Beer Geek Bert showed up last night carrying a box of zythological discoveries in one hand, and a fistful of Magic cards in the other, I was quick to help ease his burdens.

Because there's always room for more Geek.
First things first, a host must offer to share bread and salt, lest the laws of hospitality remain disregarded and his House shamed forever. Recent events in Westeros however prompted me to skip the bread-and-salt bit and cut right down to the beer: Brew#6, the Lawnmower Citra weizen.

I still owe you all a pic about that, but suffice to say, it looks okay. It's cloudy and (very) pale, with a bit of a disappointingly unstable head, atypical for a weizen. But in the nose, and on the palate, the hops and the yeast and the wheat combined do all that I wanted this brew to do. Fruity, just bitter enough, light and refreshing.

Beer: Brew#6: Lawnmower Citra
Brewery: HoppySlosh Home Brewery
Style: Hoppy hefeweizen-ish
ABV: 4.5% est.
EBU: 45 est.
EBC: about 10
Served: 330ml bottle


I think Bert's comments were "quite okay" so not quite the winner I'd wanted it to be, but a good starting to point to vamp this until all the stops are pulled.

Maybe not all of them.
But hark! Slumbering in Bert's cardboard box was more beer to be sampled. Without further ado, I give you...

FLTR: Even More Jesus,
even more Even More Jesus,
plushie,
and half a Bert

Evil Twin are a Danish brewey, specialising in potent, slighly off-beat brews. They've a certain lack of seriousness which I find quite charming; a boyish "for the heck of it" attitude which strongly appeals to my Inner Geek.
Even More Jesus is an imperial stout, which is obvious from the moment gravity tries to coerce the beer to vacate the bottle: thick, viscous, bordering on treacle. No head whatsoever at any given moment, and a colour which, according to science, isn't one.

A bit like this, only darker.

In the nose, you get that rich, dark malt fragrance, earthy and slightly boozy, with such a shitload of chocolate you might be fooled into thinking you're sniffing a bottle of cacao concentrate. Only it's not, and the malt and the hops still manage to come out in high enough doses to make this not just a chocolatey dessert thing, but beer after all. And while all I'll say from hereone still applies, it's also a beer which is somewhat pining for a barrel. There a lot going on, but like so many impy stouts, this one seems made to mature in a bourbon barrel, and it's just a little bit of a pity that this lack of Even More Booze becomes apparent as soon as you take a whiff.

In the mouth, the beer does crazy things with your tastebuds. There's the intense sweetness of the gloopy malt base, combined with a wonderfully balanced, but very present hop bitterness. One one hand, the malt is cloying and chewy, and on the other hand, the hop is puckering, giving a weird in-and-out sensation as the tastebuds contract and expand in quick succession to accomodate all those conflicting inputs. Chocolate is less pronounced than in the nose, but notably present, next to a firmly chunky roastiness. The bitterness, while quite present initially, wears off rather smoothly, and the aftertaste is sweet and aromatic, with sweetened coffee, rich milk chocolate and a bit of toffee or fudge in the background.

Make no mistake: this is a big beer. A bold and spanking brew. It's nowhere near the best in its style, and I can see myself getting a bit tired of the sweet-bitter woingwoing effect after a while, but it has a lot of character, a quality which, ironically, is sometimes overlooked in imperial stouts. Immensely enjoyable.

Beer: Even More Jesus
Brewery: Evil Twin Brewing
Style: Imperial Stout 
ABV: 12%
EBU: pretty bitter but no numerics forthcoming
EBC: a bit darker than that pic I put up earlier
Served: 330ml bottle

Whilst getting beaten up in a little bit of Izzet vs Golgari duel deck Magic mayhem, Bert uncapped the last of his bottled prezzies:

Ceci n'est pas un Barley Wine.
C'est quoi alors, enfin?
(pic not mine btw)
Not to be mistaken by 't Hofbrouwerijke's "Ceci n'est pas" series, this brew from Sainte-Hélène is indeed a Barley wine, coming from a Belgian brewery I've not heard a lot about, It wasn't until I saw their regular labels that I realised I do in fact have a bottle of their Black Mamba waiting to be sampled.
Barley wines aren't at all common in Belgium, and other than the ubiquitous Bush (known in the USA as Scaldis), I can't think of one I might have tried before. It's a bit of an oddity, as it's not so much a beer style as a certain attitude, I suspect.
Ceci n'est pas did pour exactly like I expected, from what little I understand of the style: an almost-flat, dark-golden-bordering-on-deep-amber hue, with a fine lacing of foam on top. Crystal-clear and very pleasing to look at, I'm now wondering why the brewery chose to abandon their trademark mysterious ladies label design in favour of this more austere presentation.

In the nose, you'll find much of what makes Bush such a great couch-lounging brew: oodles of subtle malts, floating on a crisp, alcoholic cloud. There a dark sugary note there, and a bit of almost pharmaceutical je ne sais quoi which I think is coming from the yeast. It's nowhere as present as some of the more phenolic brews I've tried, but it's there, and I'm sure not everybody likes that.

A certain something.

Aromas and taste were spot-on and entirely congruent with the nose: there's that almost whisky-like maltiness, so drastically different from that of the preceding stout, combined with a volatile alcohol presence. Despite the malt presence, it's quite a dry beer, and the alcohol and carbonation levels accentuate this just enough to make the sweetness, which is its main focus taste-wise, enjoyable. Low hops presence, which is a bit of pity if you're a hop head like me, but probably a wiser course for this particular beer. I can see how this beer would benefit from a touch of Sorachi Ace though, something gummy/woodsy to make it hum a little more. A firm yeast presence evokes plenty of estery flavours, all equally subtle and understated.

In almost all respects, this beer is the opposite of the Even More Jesus. The malts are employed in almost perpendicular strategies, hops play entirely different parts here, even the alcohol applies itself differently. Interesting to see how extremely different these two beers are, in spite of the things they have in common.
After the chunky presence of the Even More Jesus, Ceci n'est pas still held its own, although I would advise trying this on a clean a palate as possible. Barley wines' powers lay in their subtle maltiness, whereas impy stouts are rarely very subtle at all.

Excellent brews, and my appreciation of Berts generosity translated itself into a flawless victory on my behalf.

Would monsieur like some pommes frites to accompany his cul de soi-même?
Gratitude will manifest itself, but certainly not in the form of letting him beat me at games again.


Beer: Ceci n'est past un Barley Wine
Brewery: Sainte-Hélène
Style: oh it's a barley wine alright
ABV: 10%
EBU: 60 IBU, although you'd never tell
EBC: rouge-brun. That's science for you.
Served: 330ml (green) bottle

Until next time!


Greetz

Jo

donderdag 20 juni 2013

Ten Fidy (Oskar Blues Brewery)

An ode, perhaps.

To beer, because I figure you already suspected as much.
To stouts, because it's pretty hard to get more beer in your beer than with a stout.
To imperial stouts, because they're pimped out chromed out stouts so more beer in your already-a-lot-of-beer.

To beer then.

But most relevantly, to canned beer.

Let me go off-tangent here for a short while.
Canned beer, in this country, seems to embody all that is wrong with beer in the world today. Canned beer spells cheap-ass lager like nothing else, and if not that, then it spells comfort to the homeless, in whopping half-liter cans of blisteringly boozy chemically enriched Frankenbrew.

Yes, Anthony Martin, I'm looking at you and your triple-X steroid lagers
It's ironic that we all seem to trust bottled beer just a little bit more than its canned counterpart, when a tin can is such a superior vessel in every way. It doesn't break, it's somewhat easier to clean and supposedly more sustainable than glass, but most importantly, it keeps the light out of the brew.
Light which, as you may already know, is pretty damn bad for beer.

Filthy nasty little lightses. We hates it!

But in spite of the redeeming qualities of the tin can, you'll find most beers which actually come in cans are, well, not the best.
Oh who am I kidding: most canned beers are crap. Period.

Coming slightly back from what only appears to be a tangent: when last I hooked up with SaintDennis, we did the usual "yay you got me beer, here's some beer" thing which beergeeks the world over know as "swapping". Among my stash that night was...a can.

A can of imperial stout.

Someone (*), somewhere (°), not only decided that a can is indeed a fit receptacle for all things beery, but took that decision one step further and delivers all of their brews in a can.
Not one can.
Just, you know, in cans. 
Canned. 
Whatever.

*) Oskar Blues, apparently.
°) Colorado, apparently.

So here we are, with a can of 10.5% ABV imperial stout in our hands. Ain't nuthin' left to do but drink it then.

Da's one big ass mofo brew.
 When poured, Ten Fidy ticks all those boxes you expect in the style. Thick and almost gloopy, black as an inkwell in a safety deposit aboard the Titanic, with a humble tan head which is swiftly pulled under into the darkness below.
"Are you drinking ink now?" werethe exact words of my son when he saw me pour it.

Seriously, Google?
In the nose you'll find a massively dense malt presence, with the mandatory chocolate and coffee fragrances taking the lead. Underneath is a not-very-subtle-but-quite-alluring whiff of soy sauce, giving the beer an almost meaty aroma. Deeper still you'll find subtle and, yes, elegant specialty malt touches, not unlike what you'd expect to find in barley wines. Not an easy beer on the nose, because there's such a lot of depth to it, but I could sniff this all night long.

Ah and when it hits the lips and passes on from there into the mouth, across the tongue, to the back of the throat and way into, well, let's not follow it quite all the way, shall we?
In the mouth, this beer again does everything right and more. It's thick and velvety, sweet-bordering-on-clingy-sticky, with a massive 98 IBUs of bitterness being wonderfully balanced by the shitloads of malt that went into the brew. Coffee and chocolate again, as well as a subtle roast, but also a deep and almost undetectable hint of dark red fruits. It's a beer which sighs yearningly, almost mournfully, for the inclusion of bourbon.
This is quite common in imperial stouts: the style seems to be almost dependent on barrel ageing, and often you'll find the base beers somewhat lacking, deficient almost, when not invigorated by boozy barrels.
The Ten Fidy however, merely whispers promises of even bigger, even more, even better, but is perfectly capable of holding its own without being propped up by a barrel of Bourbon. A barrel aged version does exist, I'm happy to hear, and while I'm dead curious to see how that turned out, the base beer is, in all respects, phenomenal all on its own. If I ever manage to brew a stout half this good, I'll be counting my blessings (if somewhat double-sightedly).

Beer: Ten Fidy
Brewery: Oskar Blues Brewing
Style: Imperial Stout (in a can!)
ABV: Ten Fidy uv coahse
EBU: 98 but you'd never tell
EBC: So black as to no longer really matter
Served: a spiffy 330ml can!

Oskar Blues Brewing have a whole range of canned brews, and unless this impy stout is a lucky one-shot fluke, I whole-heartedly recommend trying some if ever you get the opportunity.

A toast then.
To canned beer, to Oskar Blues and their Ten Fidy, and to SaintDennis and his Underground Treasure Trove of Beery Bliss.


Wassail!

Greetz

Jo

woensdag 12 juni 2013

Lawnmower Inferno goes pop

Rejoice! Brew6 went pop today, after only 4 days in the bottle.

Like this, only more docile.

Carbonation was on the light side, which is normal after so little time, and in fact desirable: I don't want this beer to be a fizz bomb. Hoppy, thanks to my last minute decision to up the dosage dry hops to 30g in a 20 liter (*) batch. Fruity, thanks to the hefeweizen yeast, which I'll definitely be using again, in spite of a sluggish latter half of fermentation. Fresh and wheaty and light and summery, just as I'd conceived it. Oh yes, this will definitely be repeated.

Bit pale in color (pics forthcoming once it's reached a more mature stage) but that's not something I find worrying in a weizen, be it hoppy or not.

In a few days, it'll be all ready and then I'll find me a good excuse to drink one. Pity the lawn's already mowed though.

*) speaking of volumes, I really need to get a grip on those. Between boiling and bottling ,my 20 liters of wort (measured using the HoppySlosh Unified Graded Measuring Spoon Handle) somehow got reduced to 12, which implies a volume loss far greater than I can account for. More careful measuring needs to be undertaken by yours truly, as part of the fun in brewing lies in the sharing of the brew, but with the final result being so scarce in quantity, there's little to actually be shared at all.

So yay! Another beer under my belt, and more lessons learned, with satisfying results. Next brew will need to wait until after the holidays, but rest assured, more brews are upcoming.

Until then,

Greetz

Jo

dinsdag 11 juni 2013

Hel & Verdoemenis Misto (De Molen)

The Constant Reader may recall that I am far from impartial where Dutch brewery De Molen is concerned. In fact, my very first encounter with them was in the form of that ridiculously redefining imperial stout of theirs, the Hel&Verdoemenis.

Since this brew is so damn good, the De Molen guys have used it as a basis for some of their superlative barrel aged beers, of which the Misto is only one example.

Proving internet memes, as well as the expression "only one", sadly lacking in both truth and bearing.
The Misto, then.

Told you I was doing all of this for science, didn't I?

There's that lusciously thick pour which so defines imperial stouts. The sheer majesty of it, the anticipatory glug of a dense, chewy brew hitting the glass. What little tan head it has is swiftly pulled under into the darkness below.

In the nose is that intensely chocolatey, just-barely-registrable coffee buzz which made me go wow the first time I had the basic H&V. Ladled gently in between are rich, fruity overtones, lifting up the brew and making it a bit more playful. A dainty whiff of vanilla maybe, hidden by the present-but-restrained boozy undercurrent of bourbon. I say boozy, but the alcohol is very low-level, and nowhere near the saturnine extravaganza you can expect from an American brew of similar caliber.

And when the brew hits the tongue, what else is there to say but oh my goodness? Hell and effing Damnation indeed, this brew is wickedly divine, with just enough bourbon in there to impart upon an already mind-bogglingly tasty base beer an expansive quality, making it throb across the palate like a wanton seductress. Velvet and smooth, warm yet not scorchingly hot, with wood tones, a heady bourbon presence just bordering on boozy, dark dark chocolate and a creamy, dessert-like ooze which makes the beer stick to the back of the teeth in an altogether pleasant ride.
It's easy to miss but there's actually quite a bit of carbonation going on here, hiding as a fine prickling sensation on the tongue, teasing a bit more fire from the gentle booze from the Wild Turkey.

A medium-long aftertaste, with sticky, chewy sweetness of malt and liquor pairing off perfectly with the gentle bitterness of subdued hops and roast malt. Don't expect the everlasting, all-night-and-straight-into-next-morning lingering of present-day USA barrel aged brews; this is actually a beer you can have seconds of, provided someone's willing to drive you home.

Speaking of bourbon: I happen to have, stored away in the safety of my cellar's darkest recesses, a bottle of Hel&Verdoemenis Wild Turkey. I had to do some research, however limited, on the Misto to find out this one also involves Wild Turkey. What I'm guessing (and I really wish Menno & crew would be more centrally informative on these matters) is that the Misto is actually blended with Wild Turkey and then aged on new barrels (thank you ratebeer), while the Wild Turkey is probably aged on used (and probably not-entirely-dry) barrels wherein once resided the Wild Turkey itself. Curious as to how different that one will turn out.

But the Misto...ah the Misto. I could have this beer every night for the rest of my life and not feel sad about all the other brews I was missing out on. Everything about this beer is just perfectly measured out, perfectly and lovingly executed, and perfectly drinkable. There's nothing extreme about this beer, and anyone shaking their heads in disapproval of current trends where every next beer is brewed bigger and bolder and heavier and boozier than the other will be pleased to find that the guys at De Molen know exactly where to stop. This is the dividing line. This is where beer is still unquestionably beer, and points elegantly in both directions.

Deasil, it says, lie normal beers. Beers perhaps too unassuming which are perfecly okay, but which, frankly put, are not this beer.
And widdershins, it says whilst beckoning us on, lie the super beers. Beers which oft belie their humble origins, and which, when all it said and told, are not this beer.

For those in need of directions

De Molen crew, here's to your good health, and to the love your pour into each bottle.

Beer: Hel&Verdoemenis Misto
Brewery: De Molen
Style: Blended Barrel Aged Imperial Stout (Wild Turkey)
ABV: 11%
EBU: 102
EBC: 297
Served: 330ml bottle

Oh.
A side note, just to clear the air. Don't mistake the above for an unwarranted critique on either deasil or widdershins beers. There are excellent beers to be found on both sides of the dividing line, as well as crap brew pretending to be beer. There's a time and place for decent-and-better beers from either side.
But, whichever beer we're talking about, it's not this beer.

Greetz

Jo