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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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 |
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. |
"Are you drinking ink now?" werethe exact words of my son when he saw me pour it.
 |
| Seriously, Google? |
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
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