Mike’s Beer #7—Yuengling Bock

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.

Mike’s Beer #5—Widmer Brothers Reserve Cherry Oak Doppelbock

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.

Mike’s Beer #4—Troegenator Doublebock

As I’ve said earlier, bocks have sort of been off my radar for a while as I’ve vacillated between the worlds of IPAs and Belgians. This is where Take 52 has been helpful in expanding my understanding. Running into Finger Lakes Beverage Center this afternoon, I might have easily grabbed one of my comfort beers—Middle Ages Wailing Wench, or maybe Ithaca Flower Power IPA. My sites were set on Stone IPA when I spotted TroegsTroegenator Doublebock in the next cooler over. This Pennsylvania brew has been showing up more and more recently, and I figured, after my great experience with EKU 28, it was time to try this one. I can’t claim to be an expert on the style, but it drinks super clean, with a serious balance between the malt and heavy alcohol. The carbonation is light, just as I want it to be with this style. And when the swallow is gone, the taste dissipates quickly, making the net sip all the more urgent.

I had this beer while celebrating my boy’s 5th birthday. Turns out that Troegenator goes well with chocolate. Cake, that is. Only, the combo of heavy carbs (we also had potatoes with brunch, homemade cinnamon rolls and plenty of birthday cake) made napping a distinct certainty.

I would most certainly pick up this beer again, especially if I were visiting family in Florida and mom was buying.

Mike’s Beer #3—EKU 28

I had one of these bad boys last weekend at the Flying Saucer in Raleigh, NC. The bottle was portrayed on a beer poster I had in college, but I hadn’t encountered one until that fateful night at Scott’s 40th birthday shin-dig. The EKU 28 was a great way to kick start the evening. At 11% ABV, the alcohol did not take over the flavor. Instead there was a deep, funky maltiness that didn’t give up. It occurred to me (about ¼ way through the bottle, while I was still capable of intelligent thought) that I hadn’t had a bock in a long, long time. I suppose it’s because they take so much time to ferment (and brewers don’t want to tie up their tanks for one batch when they could make many ales over the same amount of time). A quick scan of the Net shows a great many celebrated bock beers that I haven’t ever tried. It looks like I have several new topics for upcoming columns.