It seems that because of Take 52, my list of rules that I will try and not break is increasing weekly. This new rule is: if a beer is a numbered, limited edition it is a must have (baring it is not $50 for a bottle.)
The beer of choice this week was the Bottle Conditioned Fullers 2008 Vintage Ale - Bottle Number 116005. Just like the show LOST, there is a lot of mystery behind these numbers. Did this vintage get better in the later numbers, or was bottle 1573 where it’s at? Why are the numbers written on the wall by everyone's name...oops sorry that's Lost.
The oversight I made was locating this beer in the fridge. While reading up on this old ale I learned that it should be tasted at cellar temperatures. After work I ran home and tried to get the temperature up, but I also did not want to wait too long to open up this bad boy. I bet this one would be remarkable on cask.
I really enjoyed this English Strong Ale. The tastes of citrus and dark raisins backed up by very sweet malts were extremely evident mostly due to the low alcohol in each mouthful; any more alcohol and this would be considered an English Barleywine.
Overall I gave this old ale 7.5 out of 10, I really expected this beer to be more complex then it was though it was a very well-crafted beer. Perhaps with a bit more age it would move up in the rankings.
And so Bock Month ends with a whimper. After sampling three very scrumptious examples of the style earlier in the month, I top it all off with an utterly forgettable concoction, a mainstream beer that I really had hopes for.
There were warning signs from the beginning. The beer poured thin and lifted soda pop bubbles to the top of the glass. The beer was the color of Coke when the ice has already melted. In other words: yuk! There was not much aroma—a feint hint of root beer was pretty much all I could pick up.
The beer itself was bitter with not enough sweet below it. It was a little maltier than your average beer, but not nearly enough to be considered a true bock. In all, I didn’t see much sensory evidence that screamed out “bock.” It was just a malty, bitter beer with a fancy label (complete with goat, chalice and retro font). If only they’d put as much effort into making the beer itself reflect the style. Overall, I’d put it a bit higher than some of their other brews, but still, I probably wouldn’t drink this again unless there was some serious scarcity.
There’s not much to say about this one. I looked at the brewery and the price and falsely figured that I was getting a juiced-up version of what I love about Stone—a bounty of hop flavor and aroma. What I got was something pretty dry and tame, the first unmemorable brew that I’ve tasted for this column.
Levitation has a very dry, clean finish, bitter with just a bit of floral taste on the tongue. It’s an award winner, but not really for me… tastes like my homebrew did, which should make me feel good, but there’s a reason why I stopped brewing: my skill hit a plateau and the brew just wasn’t getting any better.
“Worrying is like paying on a debt that may never come due.” --Will Rogers
I’ve got a few albums from the 80s on my list, and I’m guessing that quite a few will fall into the “had to be there” category. CANDY APPLE GREY is just not one of them. The album has caused me untold anxiety over the course of my life, and if nothing else, I’m glad that I can put this chapter to rest.
I really wanted to like it. The title and the cover art were both pretty cool. And the band name had not one, but two umlauts. There would have been an excellent story arc here if I ended up enjoying it.. After all, the tape sat in a drawer in my bedroom for years, lend by that weird Southern dude who moved to Long Island during my junior year. I felt bad every time I opened the drawer. I felt guilt over keeping the tape for so long. I also felt the loss of opportunity, the shame over neglecting this tape when, let’s face it, all I had to do was pop it into the stereo. I had no idea what it was going to sound like. For all I know, it could have evoked an awesomeness that could have rivaled the Replacements. And yet I passed it over each and ever time I opened that one drawer, as if I were the Angel of Death, and that drawer were smeared with lamb’s blood.
The album caused me stress once again this past week, as I could not bring myself to listen to it the six times that I’ve committed to previewing each album I review. I made it through twice, but then that was all I could do. Meanwhile, I put off writing the column, and the album once again became a source of anguish for me.
In the end, all of the stress that the album caused me was for naught. It was never going to be something that would touch me, make my life better in any way. I’ve learned a valuable lesson, though—one that Will Rogers knew long before I was born.
I was a little worried when I popped the top on this one. I was going for my third bock in a row. What if it turned out to be just like the others? What if I was stuck in an unrelenting loop of similarly tasting bock beers? Silly me.
Silly because I didn’t consider my source (the bottle was a gift from Adam). Silly because I didn’t trust the brand (which I loved when I lived in Seattle back in ’93). Silly because it came in a cardboard box. And if that’s not a sign of elegance, I don’t know what is.
I’d put this up there with some of the great Ithaca Excelsior! brews: big, complex and tasty, a beer worthy of discussion. It smells like a bock, with a deep, roasted, slightly sour aroma. It tastes like a bock way back in the tongue, but it also has an added bitterness from the oak and cherries. Worthy of its packaging, this brew kept changing from moment to moment, each swallow taking on a handful of different twists and turns.
In the end, I think they overdid it just a touch with the oak. Deep into the swallow, I would be reminded of Ithaca’s experiment with an oaked nut brown. Two beers, two styles, yet with very similar finishes. Yep—got to be the oak. But man—I’d drink this again, for sure.
There are so many different categories of beer it can drive you crazy. From Barley Wine to Weizenbier who is to know which beer to pair with a menu?
This Valentine’s Day we sharpened our teeth for a carnivorous feast of grilled steak from Whole Foods, caramelized onions, sautéed green beans and homemade Yukon Gold fries…without a doubt I knew I wanted a brew with a nice earthy tone that would pay tribute to the sweet marinade.
As I emptied the growler into my English pint glass the rich, brown beer was eaten up by a huge, tan head that did not want to disappear until I sipped it off the rim. Even then the lacing was left around the glass as if I were drinking a glutinous, root beer float.
The malted, molasses sweetness of the beer brings out the very best of any BBQ, while the dynamic, bitter hop finish was a welcomed revelation. I laugh at a lot of reviews when I read that someone tasted weird items such as dried soil or a rare fruit only found on the shores of the Amazon….but for the first time I found myself craving some butter as the suggestion of burnt toast rolled over my tongue that had my mouth begging for another sip.
Overall I gave Ipswich Dark Ale 8 out of 10. It is not the supreme brown ale, but it is undeniably one I would hunt out again.
In a post a couple of weeks ago I listed a few personal regulations when it comes to drinking beer, but I also have a few rules that I never break:
1) Try any beer once, even if it was made with Blueberries. That does not mean I will buy it, but if given the opportunity to sample who can say no? 2) If going to a new city I will try to find the local brewery to fill a growler. The most recent was Middle Ages Brewing in Syracuse – Yum! 3) If a beer is on the Beer Advocate Top Beers on Planet Earth or Rate Beer’s Best Beers in the World lists, and locally available, I must purchase it.
While touring Valley Discount Liquor in Ansonia, CT (yes, I said Ansonia) I came across the Limited Edition Ballast Point Brewing Sculpin India Pale Ale. Currently ranked #40 on RateBeer.com and #14 on BeerAdvocate.com (recently pushed from the #13 spot by Cantillon Blåbær Lambik) it fit into my rule book flawlessly.
Jim and I parked ourselves at his dining room table and opened the bottle over a conversation of our usual beer nonsense. Once poured the talking turned to sniffing, it was hard to make out what was going on in our noses. The fruits were so distinct that you seem to be able to pinpoint them all on their own. Grapefruit, apricot and other citrus aromas were tuning their instruments waiting to be discovered by our pallets.
I have to come clean that at first sample I did not really get the hubbub, but fast-forward a couple of days later to bomber #2 and I realize what we had was something very extraordinary. When you knock back a beer with a high I.B.U. (International Bittering Unit) you expect to be all pucker with no flavor (see Moylan’s Hopsickle Imperial,) but not the case here. The fruit and hops work so well together I would say that they are the Joe Montana and Jerry Rice of beer. I have read often of drinkers tasting a pine taste, but I think the hops and citrus are too dominate for other flavors to materialize.
Overall I give the Sculpin a 9/10 – it is right up there with Pliny the Elder as one of the best IPAs I have had the pleasure of drinking. Not a beer I could drink everyday, but it makes for one hell of a night.
We can’t listen to every record out there. Can we? I consider myself a pretty serious aficionado, but still, I’ve got to draw the line somewhere. That’s the lesson I learned as I collected every single Yes album back in the 80s. The progression went like *this:
1) I hit the major albums and enjoyed them immensely 2) I found the hidden gems and deepened my appreciation for the band 3) I suffered through a handful of lesser albums as I forced my way through their catalogue.
I think I may have “overlearned” the lesson, though. Overlearned. That’s an expression I learned recently as a radio commentator discussed Congress’ failure to pass a health care bill. It was said that Obama overlearned Bill and Hilary Clinton’s lesson in 1993, when they pushed hard for health care reform and were seen as responsible for the debacle that ensued. And so Obama stepped back and allowed Congress to take the initiative (and watched the whole thing unravel). Thankfully, my mistake hasn’t had such an adverse affect on the average American. I overlearned the lesson that eventually the quality of music from a band will wane. And there’s no better example than the near total lack of full-length Kinks albums in my collection.
I’ve been a Kinks fan since the mid 90s, and though I’ve collected a ton of their songs, the only proper album I own is THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY. What’s crazy is that I’m absolutely bonkers about that album, and yet I never dug any further. But how could I overlook the rest of their catalog when they’ve got at least a double album worth of ‘hits?’ I think it simply was a fear of tarnishing my feelings for the band. Let’s face it—anyone who went out and watched the Jerky Boys movie pretty much stopped listening to their tapes from that point on. I did NOT want that to happen with my favorite bands. It turns out that I was being pretty silly.
I decided to go back and check out SOMETHING ELSE this week—clearly an excellent choice. Just like LONDON CALLING, this one started and ended with songs that I knew but was otherwise filled entirely with newcomers to my consciousness. Just like VILLAGE GREEN, this one is filled with fun and sometimes quirky tunes about life and people in suburban England. The pinnacle is “Afternoon Tea,” a sweet love song that’s nearly as happy as “Sunny Afternoon.” But the one song that’s been grabbing me by the collar all week has been “Tin Soldier Man,” a strange tune (see/hear below) like no other by the Kinks, complete with baritone sax and goofy-as-anything lyrics:
...winky wack wacky goo/ and he’s got a little tin lady too/ just to put a little shine on his shoes/ and keep his uniform tidy...
Overall there was only one song that I’d consider tossing off the iTunes list, while I put most of the rest of them into heavy rotation. And as I discovered with Bowie’s STATION TO STATION last month, hearing a song like “Waterloo Sunset” in its proper context gave me a great appreciation for a tune I’d otherwise discounted. No doubt, I’m going to be checking out a few more of their albums, most likely Arthur, Muswell Hillbillies and Face to Face. It turns out that the Kinks aren’t done stunning me.
* By the way—the Yes albums, by category, were 1) Fragile, 90125, The Yes Album, Close to the Edge 2) Relayer, Time and a Word, Yes, Tales from the Topographic Oceans and 3) Tormato, Drama, Big Generator, Union.
I'm down another five pounds! Whoo hoo! I made a nice Wilted Spinach Salad with Apples and Walnuts last night. I over-salted it due to my inability to halve a recipe. But the ingredients were awesome. I substituted slivered almonds for walnuts due to my family's preference. And I added bacon and sauteed mushrooms. I can't believe I lost five in a week. I am going to re-check the scale. xo
Even as I jot this down I am unsure of my position towards this Belgian IPA. Drinking this beer was like strolling through the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory, around ever corner seemed to be a new flavor waiting to jump on my senses.
As I pop the cork on the 750ml I am struck with the beautiful perfume brought on by the freshest of hops which I expected since the label is a spectacular landscape covered in my favorite flower.
Around the next corner of my factory tour my tulip glass filled with a magnificent honey haze below full foam that, once dissipated, left lacing throughout the entire glass. I had to take in the scent once more before rounding the next turn knowing I was falling into a trap.
These snozberries did not taste like the snozberries I was expecting. A nice symmetry of malt and hops usually reserved for a Tripel – I should have known this was coming after the large amount of carbonation on the pour. As with most of my experiences drinking a Belgian beer the first taste that hits my mouth is a large metallic tang. I am not sure if it is the combination of spices, but it soon gets lost in the citric finish I was anticipating from the hops on the label.
I give this beer a 7.5/10 - Being an extreme hop fan it was on the mellow side for my IPA taste buds, but I will not hesitate buying another bottle. I would like to find more Belgian IPAs to weigh against the Poperings Hommel Bier.
The writers attached to this page have committed to a one-year experiment: to try something new every single week this year. The idea is to choose one narrow area of interest and then dive in as deeply as possible. When we come up for air in December, we’ll (hopefully) be all the better for it.
