570. Crooked Stave Surette Provision Saison

We finally got our hands on some Crooked Stave beers: we tried Vieille on Sunday, and tonight is Surette. Chad Yakobson is the current poster-child for Brettanomyces brewing, so why the hell wouldn’t I be excited? If you’d like to get all old-school, feel free to check out the Brettanomyces Project as well. Colorado never tasted so good!

Surette pours a hazy yellowish tan accompanied by a thin white head that reduces quickly to a ring with several wispy islands; the nose is bright and sharp, with soft oak and a slight smoky adhesive phenol tang along with musty earth and citrus. Flavors start with doughy malt and citrus, progressing into a tannic oak bite with lemon in the middle, and running into some slight dirty band-aid flavors ala a Flanders Red in the finish, including the dark fruit and slightly vinous character of those beers. The combination of earth and lemon-y citrus found in the nose continues in the body, both in the front and the finish, while the mouthfeel is rounded and bright. I appreciate the creamy and yet bright sensations on the palate—a combination created by the carbonation, oak, and yeast—precisely because of the body it gives the beer while still allowing the flavors to sing. The beer also improves as it warms, blending delicately together across the profile. Surette has alluring and interesting flavors, and comes across cleaner than one might expect—it certainly points to the exciting possibilities of Brettanomyces-only fermentation. I did like Vieille more than Surette, but we will certainly be seeking out both again, as well as any other Crooked Stave beers we can find.

From the bottle: “Surette is a provision Saison with a tart and vinous character from extended barrel age.”

From the Crooked Stave website: “Wood Aged Farmhouse Ale brewed with Malted Barley, Wheat, Oats, Rye and Spelt. This beer is a recreation of early 20th century farmhouse provision ales. Surette was fermented and aged in our large oak foeder with Brettanomyces and Lactobacillus naturally present. The secondary fermentation with these critters creates complex aromas and a slight tartness.”

ABV: 6.2% 

(8/20/2013)

564. Brewery Vivant and New Belgium Lips of Faith Biere de Garde

So we’ve got both a collaboration beer and a Lips of Faith beer, all in one bottle. Did I also mention it is a biere de garde? Which, while not precisely a saison, is pretty much saison’s kissing cousin. Throw some chickens on the label, and this beer becomes downright irresistible, even before it gets opened. Who can fight that much confluence of goodness? Certainly not this crowd. While we’ve never had a beer from Brewery Vivant, if New Belgium says nice things about them, that’s good enough for us. And New Belgium? They’re pretty much golden around our way. We could chiggity-check the books for backing, but we’ll let this one stand on its own.

Lips of Faith Biere de Garde pours a clear, bright golden straw: with the long lasting white head, lacing, and profuse bubbles, it’s like liquid sunshine in a glass. The nose is juicy ripe fruit and citrus with pear and apple hints; there is a bit of husky malt hidden behind the yeast character followed by just the slightest hint of tartness, although that may be more of the yeast fruitiness. As it opens up, there is some creamy mustiness that borders on earthiness—you know, your usual Belgian rusticity in a glass. Flavors start sweet although the beer is very dry as a whole—the residual Pilsner candy sweetness gives way to fruit and a touch of bitterness in the middle, although the malt is in charge. In the finish, there are hints of lemon zest and dry cracker along with an impression of nuttiness. There is also some alcohol flavor and warmth, which increases as the beer warms, although so too does the juicy yeast character. The initial mouthfeel is creamy and dry; as it warms, the creaminess remains, but the dryness gives way to alcohol warmth and a slight sharpness in the back of the throat. While this is an enjoyable and certainly well-made beer, it could use better balance between the size and the flavors: as it warms, the subtlety starts to fade and the residual sweetness turns towards stickiness, and the juxtaposition between the dryness of the beer and the gumminess in the mouthfeel becomes uneven. Coupled with the increasing alcohol presence, this disjunction detracts from the overall impression of the beer—it comes across currently as almost a young and brash tripel. Part of this may stem from the style; Biere de Gardes are intended to age, and some of the rougher edges might disappear with time, but, well, we’re drinking it now. Still, something certainly worth trying—the quality is there, it is just young and rough around the edges. Sorry, we just couldn’t resist the sweet siren song of a new Lips of Faith beer any longer. You know y’all been there before, haven’t you? 

From the bottle: “Famous in Michigan for their Farmhouse Ales, our friends at Brewery Vivant introduced us to their Biere de Garde ale yeast strain. From there, we imagined a slightly tart, intentionally  dry beer with hints of bergamot citrus that pairs perfectly with French cheeses.”

ABV: 9.0%

(5/30/2013)

546. Avery IPA

It’s been a while since Avery came to town—all the way back to Black Tot. But since all beer roads lead to Dayton—and, more specifically, our fridge—there is always that inevitable return, and once again beer from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s favorite brewery finds itself holding court on our kitchen table. Besides Black Tot, we’ve also supped upon Seventeen Dry-Hopped Black Lager, Anniversary Ale Ten (2003), Brabant Barrel-Aged Wild Ale, Ellie’s Brown Ale, 16th Anniversary Ale and duganA IPA.

Avery IPA pours a clear dull gold with a profuse eggshell head that leaves plenty of lacing behind on the glass. The nose is biscuit, bread, and caramel malt coupled with a burst of spritzy floral pine hop aroma. There is also a slight creaminess lurking underneath the hop aroma. Flavors don’t stray too far from that: we’ve got bread and pine in the front that shifts to sweet caramel and pine in the middle, along with a fair amount of hop bitterness as the beer travels across the tongue. The finish is also pine, coupled with a touch of biscuit and some resin hop tackiness on the roof of the mouth. The finish is dry, but not quite clean—the big hop bitterness is nice in the body, but is slightly muddy in the finish as some of the balancing flavors disappear. Nonetheless, Avery is a solid and enjoyable IPA, albeit a couple of generations removed from contemporary American IPAs—it is more Harpoon IPA than Brew Kettle White Rajah IPA. We’d personally like a bit less caramel, but the bitterness levels are right where they need to be—bracing and crisp.

From the bottle: “Our IPA demands to be poured into your favorite glass to truly appreciate the citrusy, floral bouquet and the rich malty, yet dry finish. Brewed by hop heads, for hop heads.”

From the Avery website: “In the 1700s one crafty brewer discovered that a healthy dose of hops and an increased alcohol content preserved his ales during the long voyage to India (as depicted in our label) to quench the thirst of British troops. Today, we tip our hat to that historic innovation by brewing Colorado’s hoppiest pale ale. Avery IPA demands to be poured into your favorite glass to truly appreciate the citrusy, floral bouquet and the rich, malty finish.”

ABV: 6.5%

IBU: 69
Hops: Columbus, Chinook, Cascade, and Centennial
Malt: 2-row, Munich 10L°, and Caramel 120L°

(12/5/2012)

539. Fort Collins The Incredible Hop Wet Hop IPA

More from Fort Collins Brewery and their The Incredible Hop series. And this one out of a glass you can see through—look at those bright, luscious colors! We’ve had their beers before, most notably The Incredible Hop Imperial India Wheat Ale, Rocky Mountain IPA & Kidd Black Lager.

The Incredible Hop pours a crystal clear and vibrant orangish copper with a wispy tan head, while the nose features too much caramel and toffee, followed by earthy, grassy, and spicy resin hop aroma, and even a touch of pine/evergreen. The caramel does throw a wrench in some of the more delicate aromatics—the spicy and evergreen get lost behind it, especially in conjunction with the earthy and grassy hop character traditionally found in fresh hop beers. I also get a slight touch of buttered toast mixed with alcohol after my nose gets acclimated to the other aromas. Flavors start with caramel, grass, and resin. As it moves towards the middle, pine and acetone come out, along with heat from the alcohol. The bitterness picks up in the final third, along with warmth from the alcohol and a stronger pine and resin hop flavor. Still, however, there is the lingering caramel and toffee. The bitterness and the hop flavors cover some of the alcohol, but the alcohol increases as the beer warms, to the detriment of the beer. It is clean on the tongue; the carbonation and bitterness limits the stickiness, but the cloying elements increase as the beer warms in the glass. I like this beer in theory more than practice; fresh hops are one of my favorites, but this one is skewed toward big and malty, which limits the delicate hop flavors that should be the selling point in a fresh hop beer. Elli thought the caramel flattened the hop character—it was, she thought, too sweet and too big, and tasted more like a mediocre DIPA than a fresh hop beer. Which is disappointing; we’re always excited to try fresh hops beers, but outside the West Coast (well, and notable other exceptions), most breweries go with the more-is-better mantra. In a beer dependent upon the subtlety, nuance, and delicacy of hops in their most pristine condition, dousing them with caramel malt like it was Blue Cheese dressing and/or smothering them in souped up bigger beers seems counterintuitive at best. But then again, maybe it is just us.

From the bottle: “Crystal hops were sourced locally and handpicked off the bines and added to the brewing process the same day. This method is what produces the floral, grassy, smooth character that is so vivid in a wet hop. Harvested once a year in the fall this fresh hop treat is sure to delight your tastebuds and deserves a salute to the generous bounty that surrounds us. From all of us here at FCB, enjoy.”

ABV: not much chatter on this one. Beerpulse lists it as 9%; BA features petty squabbles.

(11/11/12)

538. Oskar Blues Deviant Dale’s IPA

Oskar Blues is now being distributed in Ohio, which means I get to try beers like this, and add it to the list of previous Oskar Blues beers that have been smuggled into the state like illegal contraband. Or like ill-gotten booty. Or like beer geek magic. I’ll let all of you choose your favorite simile out of those three, or, if you’re feeling really adventurous, you can even construct your own in the comments. Or in other, more precise words, I’ll just have more fun talking to myself here. Any-who, this is our fourth beer from Oskar Blues—it has been a while—following in the footsteps of “infinitely recyclable” cans like Ten Fidy, Mama’s Little Yella Pils and Dale’s Pale Ale. This one, however, is a tall boy. Which means those 16 ounces of 8.0% beer are going to make me suffer just that much more tomorrow morning.

Deviant Dale’s pours a brilliant and crystal clear amber with a fair amount of orange—it’s a touch darker than copper, but not quite tan or brown—and a meal-y yellow head that offers decent retention. The nose is located squarely at the crossroads of pine and resin; while there is a touch of creamy malt, caramel, and corn hidden behind the hops (it reminds me of the smell of warm caramel corn), this is primarily a hop-forward beer. As it warms, some alcohol starts to emerge in the nose, which, in conjunction with the hops, gives the beer a slight hint of lacquer or acetone. The body and flavor is nicely restrained for an 8.0% ABV beer; there is some chewiness, but nothing sticky or cloying, and the carbonation and alcohol tang thin and lighten the beer on the tongue. The carbonic bite in the second third strips some of the body away, leading into the final hop bite and bitterness of the finish. Not surprisingly, flavors favor hops; there is a spicy caramel bite in the front, followed by pine and resin that accompanies the rising levels of bitterness in the middle. The cleansing carbonation bite allows pine, resin, and a green evergreen blast of hop flavor to balance the bitterness as the beer heads into the finish, which lingers pleasantly on the palate along with a touch of alcohol warmth (the alcohol does get hotter as the beer warms). I also get a hint of lingering bread crust along with the bitterness. A good beer, albeit a bit unnecessarily hefty in size—it’s not quite a DIPA in terms of body, but the hop pay-off is too low for a top-tier IPA. The alcohol gets in the way a bit here as well; again, this seems part of the tension: the elevated ABV doesn’t marry perfectly with the cleaner malt profile, while the hop flavor and aroma is impeded by the size of the beer. So basically, it is a study in contrasts. And again, this is a good beer, it just doesn’t seem to fit well anywhere. Unless—and I know this will sound terrible, although I mean it in the best possible light—your target audience is the classic middle-of-the-road American beer geek who thinks bigger is better but doesn’t know enough about hops or style to understand the potential limitations that come with calling this an IPA. See? That sounds terrible. And I do like this beer. But I also stand by my comments. Because let’s be honest: my description is an apt one for a sizable portion of the craft beer audience right now. And just because it sucks doesn’t mean it’s not true.

From the Oskar Blues website: “Deviant Dale’s IPA (8% ABV, 85 IBUs) was born at the crossroads, in a juke joint, as if Dale’s Pale Ale sold its soul to balance Deviant’s foreboding aromas of citrus, grapefruit rind and piney resins with a copper ball-of-fire color and inscrutable finish. The 2011 GABF Silver Medal Winner (American IPA Category) is the Devil incarnate with untold amounts of malt and hedonistic Columbus dry-hopping. Oskar Blues’ southern spirit caught a northbound blues bus to ColoRADo to deliver the boundary bustin’ brewery’s first 16 oz. tallboy can.”

ABV: 8.0%
IBU: 85
Canned: 10/05/2012

(11/7/2012)

529. Great Divide 15th-18th Anniversary Wood Aged DIPA

Obviously, we’ve been sitting on these for a while—just a touch over three years, to be precise. But it is small verticals of beers like these that make cellaring an enjoyable and fruitful endeavor. As those of you who are avid readers know, we’re partial to Great Divide, although that partiality may have waned a bit. Nonetheless, this collection of beers was an excellent addition to the Great Divide beers we’ve experienced in the past: Grand Cru, Yeti ’08-’10, Smoked Baltic Porter, 16th Anniversary Wood Aged DIPA, Hercules DIPA, Wild Raspberry Ale, Hibernation, Samurai Rice, Hoss, Espresso Oak Aged Yeti, Fresh Hop, Double Wit, 15th Anniversary DIPA, and Denver Pale Ale. Dag. We’re getting up there.

Described on all four of the bottles as “quintessential” and “commemorative,” 15th-18th Anniversary Wood Aged DIPAs all pour a similar shade of tan and caramel—except for the bottle of 16th, which was notably lighter colored. Clarity also varied; all were pretty good, but 18th was stunningly clear, while the rest had different levels of slight hazing. All were squarely in the Great Divide family of beers, with a depth of malt flavor and body that supported the other components of the beer. I’m pretty certain I’ve said this in the past, but it bears repeating: the malt character of these strikes me as more British than American. And since we’ve tried some of these before (a while ago, admittedly), I’m going to focus mainly on the differences in flavor and mouthfeel—the color run down above pretty much sums it up.

15th Anniversary, bottled on June 29, 2009: Surprisingly, this one still had a fair amount of hop character to it—we could taste the pine and evergreen, although the bitterness was more hidden by the body. There was also a fair amount of oak still present, albeit it balanced by the chewy malt character—one of my notes calls it “chewy wood.” Some slight oxidized sherry and paper flavors were present as the beer warmed, but in a complementary manner. The vanilla flavors balanced well with the body, and the mouthfeel was creamy, rounded, and smooth. There was some lingering tannic bite still in the finish, along with a touch of warmth, although it was at this point low and very even and smooth. Age had served this beer well; the hop flavor, though, was something of a surprise here.

16th Anniversary, bottled on June 25, 2010: The lighter color corresponded with a different malt character—there was more butterscotch and caramel, although the beer had a chewy mouthfeel like the rest of them. There was less alcohol warmth than the rest—this one was by far the smoothest and cleanest of the group. The tannic oak character and bite was there in the finish, but it also dried the tongue and palate. There were less oxidized sherry notes, and less oak as a whole, apart from the tannic presence in the finish. I’d call this beer better and more approachable than the 15th—it is more even, cleaner, and has more depth and subtlety.

17th Anniversary, bottled on March 29, 2011: The oak flavor tasted younger, sharper, and more aggressive in this beer—the tannic bite was still a bit much. There was not much in the way of vanilla from the oak, which was somewhat surprising. You could also smell the creamy bitterness in the nose, and taste it more clearly in the body of the beer. As well, the alcohol heat was more pronounced than the last two, which is not surprising, given the age, but the contrast between this and 16th, which had less alcohol presence than 15th, made the effect more pronounced. With warmth, the evergreen hop flavors emerged more explicitly, pushing the previously noted bitter flavors. Besides the chewy malt, the creamy, rounded mouthfeel stood out in this beer in relation to the other components. With warmth, there was better balance achieved between malt chewiness and alcohol flavor—this one came on at the end.

18th Anniversary, bottled on March 21, 2012: The chewy malt character of this version featured rich caramel flavors. As well, the oak tasted even younger and greener than in 17th; there was a touch of vanilla—which was missing in 17th—and tannic bite and tang. The alcohol was hotter and younger tasting, and there was more warmth on the tongue than any of the previous beers. As the beer warmed, pine and evergreen hop flavors became much more apparent, the last portion of the bottle, which had some yeast dregs, further accentuated the hop flavors.

Several of the distinctions drawn above were mainly apparent from trying the beers next to one another—I’m certain the oak character of 17th and 18th wouldn’t have seemed as aggressive if they weren’t being directly compared to the smoothness (or absence) of the other two. And the same goes for alcohol warmth and flavor—the smoothness of 15th and the even smoother 16th made the distinctions that much more evident in comparison. As well, the malt flavor and character in all four continued to round and get chewier as the beers warmed, although not always with the exact same results, and evergreen and pine hop flavor also emerged with warmth. I’m still not sure which of the four I liked the best, although I do know that 18th needs more time. The cleanness and smoothness of 16th was its strength, but I liked the slightly bolder oak and hop flavors of 15th, and as noted above, once 17th warmed up, it became a completely different—and much better—beer. I’m not sure it completely turned the corner in comparison, but choosing between 15th and 16th would require favoring one distinct set of characteristics over another—they are, I think it safe to say, that different of beers at this point. I’m pretty sure the vast majority of those sampling would give the nod to 16th—I know Elli does—but I’m going to take the higher (and by that I mean lamer) road and abstain from choosing.

From the bottle: “Based on our award-winning beer, Denver Pale Ale, this copper-hued treat is a celebration of everything Great Divide does best. Plenty of malty sweetness provides a backdrop for earthy, floral English and American hops, while French and American oak round off the edges and provide a touch of vanilla. Thanks to everyone who’s supported us for the last 15-18 years—here’s to 15-18 more!"

ABV: 10.0%

P.S. Oh, and Jeffrey, when it comes to beer, I’m hard pour.

(8/9/2012)

514. New Belgium Fall Wild Ale

So I’ll be honest. I hate flying. Mostly because, well, it sucks. But occasionally you get something good out of the deal. Rarely, but sometimes it does happen. And no, I’m not talking that you “get to go someplace cool,” or “see your family,” or some smaltzy crap like that. Those are the Bobby McFerrin-esque lies that people tell themselves to rationalize the ugly truth of air travel. After all, the penance that is flying clearly indicates that we’re willing to trade suffering for expedited travel to a different locale—otherwise no one would do it in the first place. But today was one of those days: something cool happened. I was flying back to Dayton from San Francisco, and was routed through Denver. I was hoping that the New Belgium HUB bar was going to grace the terminal I had a 50 minute layover in, because, well, a beer between flights is always a treat. Well, almost. And in the walk between gates, there it was—just a short distance from my next gate. My first flight had even gotten in ten minutes early, guaranteeing adequate time to actually enjoy the beer. But never in my wildest dreams did I anticipate that a Lips of Faith beer would be on tap to greet me. And it was one of the good ones, too, unlike that last disappointment. And not to give it away, but this beer has restored my faith in the Lips of Faith series. Thank you, New Belgium. Previous hits and misses include Prickly Passion Saison, Vrieden, La Folie Falling Rock Tap House 10th Anniversary, Mighty Arrow Pale Ale, Ranger, Le Fleur, Misseur?, Transatlantique Kriek, Biere de Mars, Fat Tire, 1554 Enlightened Black Ale and La Folie. Dag. That’s some work.

Fall Wild Ale pours a slightly hazy mahogany, which is just another way of describing the brown and orange color of classic Belgian-style beers. The thin white head put in a small effort before giving up the ghost, although the ring around the edge of the glass is due diligence for a beer with brettanomyces. In the nose, there was mostly brett barnyard and hay with a touch of buried dark fruit and caramel. As the beer warms the dry funk really comes out in the nose. Delightfully so. The flavors were subtle and well-balanced, opening with dry caramel and dark fruit—mainly cherry and fig—before giving way to the dry, earthy brettanomyces character of barnyard and musty hay, and finishing slightly tart. Fall Wild Ale is dry and clean on the palate with a subtle, gentle intensity. The transition between the fruit and brettanomyces character was a sheer delight—I think the best way to describe the beer would be to call it something akin to a bretted Belgian dubbel, one that retains all the interesting fruit and malt character of the dubbel, but is enhanced and dried out by the brett as it develops in the beer. An excellent and enjoyable beer, one that drinks far too clean for a beer over 8% ABV. Why they still have a keg of this in the airport bar in May is beyond me, but I am certainly glad that they did.

From the New Belgium website: “Fall Wild Ale, our mahogany-hued autumn ale spiced with schisandra, opens with the floral, earthy notes of fall itself. Schisandra berries, known as ‘five flavor fruit,’ possess a panoply of flavors. This malt-forward dubbel ale is fermented with a Trappist yeast and finishes dry and slightly sour from a touch of bretta.”

ABV: 8.5%
IBU: 18.5
Hops: Willamette, Goldings, Target
Malts: Pale, C-80, Munich, Victory
Fruits/Spice: Schisandra

Oh, and to further indicate the fickle nature of flying, I spent the night on the floor of the same terminal several years ago on my way back from Hawaii. Sure, the New Belgium HUB brewery helped during the following day of delayed flights, but I had to sleep on the floor of the airport. In January. With about a thousand other people. So honestly, I think the Denver International Airport still owes me big time. Seriously.

(5/27/2012)

506. New Belgium Prickly Passion Saison

So it finally happened: a New Belgium beer we don’t like. Trust me, we’ve tried our shared, including Vrieden, La Folie Falling Rock Tap House 10th Anniversary, Mighty Arrow Pale Ale, Ranger, Le Fleur, Misseur?, Transatlantique Kriek, Biere de Mars, Fat Tire, 1554 Enlightened Black Ale and La Folie. As well, Prickly Passion is both a saison and from the Lips of Faith series. Dag. Talk about your unexpected turn of events. I don’t think even Negrodamus saw this one coming.

Prickly Passion pours a crystal clear dark gold with moderate head retention. The nose is über-candy sweetness—it comes across as the cloying sweetness found in cheap candy for children—accompanied by floral and fruit notes from both the fruit additions and the yeast, although the fruit aromatics are bordering on over-ripe and spoiled. Since the bottle notes the beer is made with “French saison yeast,” I’m calling 3711, which is why I would ascribe the cloying and over-ripe components to the fruit—I can smell the traditional 3711 esters in conjunction with the others components, so I’m blaming the fruit. Because 3711 would never do this to me. Flavors follow the nose, although they come across in a subtler manner—there is candy and delicate fruit in the front, which I would describe as a mix of apple, pear, and lightly tart fruit, followed by a slight slick creaminess and just a touch of vanilla. The finish starts clean, but gums up quickly; while the bright carbonation tries to clean up the palate sensation, the residual fruit and sugar flavors end up overwhelming everything else. As well, there is a cloying, artificial flavor left in the back of the throat after the final flavors recede—something like the taste and effect that remains when drinking an under-attenuated golden ale (Prickly Passion is 8.5% ABV, which is a bit beyond the 5%-7% range for a saison).There is also absolutely no discernable bitterness in the beer—while I am guessing the decision to minimally hop the beer was intended to preserve the delicate fruit flavors, it also exacerbates the stickier, golden-ale like qualities previously mentioned. This allows the alcohol heat and flavor to fill in the void left by the lack of hop bitterness, which further throws off the balance. Overall, a rather disappointing beer from an otherwise enjoyable brewery—I actually held out on drinking this beer over the last week to savor having a new Lips of Faith beer to try, and because I figured it would be a sure thing. Having finally cracked it, the disappointment hangs palpably in the air. While I applaud the innovation (and I do want to note that Elli does not share these sentiments), I’m not able to applaud this particular beer.

From the bottle: “Peter picked a prickly pear and paired it with a passion fruit. ‘Perfect! Pitch it in!’ he proclaimed. Now we have this pleasing Prickly Passion Saison brewed with fruit juices and French saison yeast to our brewmaster’s picking.”

From the New Belgium website: “Prickly pear and passion fruit mingle together for New Belgium’s return to farmhouse ales. Prickly Passion Saison is truly a beer for Belgian inspiration. The combination of passion fruit and prickly pear juices with the tropical esters of a traditionally earthy Saison yeast create a wonderfully broad and reaching mango-like character. Ostentatiously amber, this Prickly Passion Saison is sure to provoke the palate with a passionate prick, turn that bottle over and take a sip.”

ABV: 8.5%

(1/1/2012)

495. Boulevard 21st Anniversary Fresh Hop Pale Ale

Ah, Boulevard. That there was more of you in my life. Why don’t you come to Ohio, and make my life better? Pretty please? Can I consider that a maybe? This is our fifth Boulevard beer, including Collaboration No. 2 White IPA, Saison, Saison-Brett and Two Jokers Double Wit. Oh, and Happy Birthday, by the way.

21st Anniversary Fresh Hop Pale Ale pours a hazy orange copper—basically, a slightly darker Werther’s caramel color. The head is a yellowish tan, and lasts long and rouses easy, which makes it akin to a drunken Australian. Aromas open with a mixture of spicy resin hop and creamy caramel malt. I don’t perceive any of the citrus the label describes, but I do get the complex peppery components, which are quite alluring—possibly the caramel is masking the lighter and more delicate citrus character. Elli concurs with this assessment, and since her nose is better than mine, I feel better, although she could just be pandering to me. Which is always possible. When she reads this, she will roll her eyes at me, tell me it sounds fine, and send me back to the kitchen. As the beer warms, there are some orange marmalade aromas that emerge to balance the spiciness of the Magnum, which is the only aroma I can definitively pick out. Flavors start with spicy hops and caramel malt that is sweet but clean on the palate; the middle has some light and bright bitterness (again, I’m thinking Magnum) mixed with a touch of nutty and dry biscuit malt that is cleaned off the tongue with the carbonation bite prefacing the final third, closing with dry biscuit and more of the lingering clean bitterness. There is a touch of sweetness there, but more in relation to flavor than mouthfeel; again, the beer sits lightly on the palate, and drinks easier and far cleaner than the 7.4% ABV listed on the bottle—there is the perception of sweetness, but not the corresponding stickiness in the mouthfeel. Overall, an enjoyable fresh hop beer—clean and interesting with subtle yet complex hop flavor. I’d like it better with a little less caramel malt so that the subtlety could shine through more, but according to Jeffrey, that’s my answer for everything. Either that, or age it for longer in the basement, which I vociferously would not recommend for this beer. This is, however, the best of the fresh hop beers I’ve tried this year—well, unless Pig War is a fresh hop, but I don’t think it is. And yes, I just wanted another chance to say Pig War.

From the bottle: “In November 1989, John McDonald loaded his pickup and drove three blocks down the street to deliver the first keg of Boulevard beer. Though significantly more assertive, Boulevard 21st Anniversary Fresh Hop Pale Ale is brewed in loving tribute to that original Pale Ale. English pale malt gives the brew a rich, nutty malt flavor. Munich and Caramel malts add color and body, while a blend of Cascade, Hallertau, Magnum, Styrian Golding, and Centennial hops contribute scintillating citrus aromas and complex peppery notes.”

From the website: “This is a beer that is best enjoyed fresh. It will not be enhanced by cellaring for weeks or months, so there’s no reason to wait. It’s time to celebrate, and—now that we’re old enough to order a beer for ourselves—we plan to raise a glass or two in November to mark the occasion. Please join us! Cheers!”

See, I told you so.

ABV: 7.4%
IBU: 40
OG: 16.5˚ P
FG: 3.8˚ P

And the best jokes are the old ones.

(11/29/2011)

486. Fort Collins The Incredible Hop Imperial India Wheat Ale

I’m glad that people like bringing beer over to my house, because sometimes we don’t drink it, and then later I find interesting bottles in the back of my fridge. Enter Fort Collins The Incredible Hop. I’m pretty certain that our friends Art and Chloe brought this over during the chaos of wedding week, and tonight when I was looking for that first sweet beer of the evening, I stumbled upon this. And yes, in the chaos of our fridge, it is possible to stumble upon things. So if you want to turn your snooty nose up at use for not being refrigerator neat-freaks, you go right ahead, Mr. Fridge Fascist (or Mrs., or even possibly Miss—my scorn knows no gender bounds). Anyway, this is our third beer from Fort Collins Brewery—we’ve previously wet our whistle with Rocky Mountain IPA & Kidd Black Lager. Dag-tastic!

The Incredible Hop pours a rustic tan—there are orange and yellow components, although no real highlights, since this glass has a raised bumpy design on it. This means the color is difficult for all of you to see in the picture, but these glasses are so sweet I still don’t care—maybe in another week I’ll feel some semblance of pity for my hoards of dedicated readers (feel free to self-identify in the comments if you aren’t Jeffrey or Lolli, but I’m guessing that pretty much covers it). Basically, it’s a light body for this big of a beer. The nose is a big punch of evergreen and pine hops with a touch of wheat gumminess in the background, and the initial flavors follow the nose: spicy pine and evergreen hop flavors in the front with very little in the way of malt flavor to get in the way. In the middle there is a pleasant bitterness to go with the spicy hop flavor before sliding into some chewy malt character and a pleasant lingering bitterness—one might even say the finish has a slightly dough-y malt character that sets up finishing bitterness quite nicely. The body is medium to heavy, but not really obtrusive—it is not even much of a factor, and while there might be a touch of alcohol in the finish as well, it is in the background. A good beer overall, but not one that is especially exciting. The lighter malt character allows the hops to shine, but it does still feel slightly out of balance—I’m not sure we’re feeling the “synergy” noted on the label, unless “synergy” is a codeword for boatloads of hops and “tartness” is the codeword for minimal malt character. And don’t you know, I’ve been ranting so much during this review that I’ve completely run out of beer. So I guess that means we’re done for now.

From the bottle: “This beer is the love-child of two of my favorite styles: big, hoppy IPAs and crisp, refreshing American Wheat beers. Synergy is achieved as the bold citrusy hops of the IPA harmonize with the thirst quenching tartness of an American Wheat. Pairs nicely with hikes to Horsetooth, Poudre River floats, and moonlit bike rides.”

This beer is part of a series of four high-gravity, highly hopped beers by Fort Collins. See here for more details.

Onion bubs indeed.

(10/12/2011)

481. New Belgium/Allagash Vrienden

Holy score of scores! Sometimes those seemingly out of the way beer stores offer up sweet sweet liquid gold. And Gays Hops-n-Schnapps in Angola, IN (seriously, I couldn’t make that name up if I tried) yielded up this gem. Or several of them, since I bought out what they had on the shelf. I mean, let’s be honest, this one hits pretty much all the requisite marks. We’ve got New Belgium, and then Lips of Faith, followed by collaboration, and then Allagash, mixed with brettanomyces, and finally lactobacillus. Sounds like a recipe for deliciousness. And by sounds, I mean is. Our previous encounters with New Belgium include La Folie Falling Rock Tap House 10th Anniversary, Mighty Arrow Pale Ale, Ranger, Le Fleur, Misseur?, Transatlantique Kriek, Biere de Mars, Fat Tire, 1554 Enlightened Black Ale and La Folie. Sadly, we haven’t had any beers from Allagash, well, at least none we’ve written up. Mea culpa. If you feel so inclined, send some our way, and we’ll correct this egregious and slightly embarrassing error.

Described on the label as an “ale brewed with hibiscus and endive,” Vrienden pours a reddish orange—the hibiscus color is there, but it is not nearly as red as Goose Island’s La Fleur. The head is white and light, and quickly rings the glass, although there are a few skiffs of foam floating around on the surface. Elli describes the nose as brett-y goodness; when pushed to further expand her description, she declared it floral and herbal combined with earthy and mineral-ly crispness, followed be a touch of sweetness. Well put, my dear. Flavors open with a dry, crackery malt and move into mineral tartness and floral fruitiness mixed with earthy and hay flavors that are also tangy and sour. The turn to the finish has a spritzy, effervescent carbonation burst that wipes the palate clean before finishing with a lingering mineral earthy funkiness and bitterness. As the beer warms, the tartness increases, and so does the sweetness in the body and mouthfeel—there is a fair change from front to back on this beer: the initial mouthfeel is dry, crisp, and light-bodied, while toward the end of the bottle, it was dry, tart, and medium-bodied. The alcohol is well-hidden, but does peek out a bit as the beer warms. Let’s just say that there is a lot going on with this beer, and all of it is good. We likey. Ah, Lips of Faith, how we’ve missed you...

From the bottle: “Get a Belgian brewmaster and a master of Belgian brewing together and there’s sure to be spontaneous imagination that leads to micro-organisms mingling in fermentation bliss. Allagash and New Belgium are pleased to offer you our collabeeration brewed with the slightly fruity hibiscus flower, the aromatic brettanomyces, and the flavor-boosting lactobacillus. We recommend pairing it with creamy, soft cheeses and charming vrienden—that’s ‘friends’ in Flemish. Enjoy!”

ABV: 8.5%

(5/15/2011)

460. Great Divide Grand Cru

We’re hitting up Great Divide like Tonya Harding did Nancy Kerrigan. That’s right, I said it. In the long non-stop roller coaster ride that it is our relationship with Great Divide, I can only say this: I want more. We’ll add this to a list that includes Yeti ’08-’10, Smoked Baltic Porter, 16th Anniversary Wood Aged DIPA, Hercules DIPA, Wild Raspberry Ale, Hibernation, Samurai Rice, Hoss, Espresso Oak Aged Yeti, Fresh Hop, Double Wit, 15th Anniversary DIPA, and Denver Pale Ale. That’s 14, folks.

Grand Cru pours a clear reddish amber color—it has garnet highlights and a soft tan head that slowly reduces to a ring. The nose is toasted malt candy sweetness mixed with dark fruit esters, including cherry, fig, and a touch of raisin, and some general perfume-y juiciness. Flavors open with gentle toasted malt flavors and candy sweetness; these give way quickly to darker fruit flavors like raisin, cherry, and fig along with a touch of restrained spiciness. There is a slight taste of alcohol that balances the flavors in the middle, creating a sweet rum raisin effect that carries into the finish. Creamy and caramel malt sweetness closes out the beer, although it is rather clean—there are slight lingering astringent flavors and an alcohol warmth that emerges after the flavors have left the palate. The body is medium to heavy; Grand Cru is lightly chewy, but it hides the 11% ABV well—I expected a much younger and sharper alcohol character, when I got a smoother and rounder alcohol that helped balance the malt profile. The carbonation is a bit low; it is present in the mouthfeel, but in pretty minimal levels. This is a good but not exciting beer. While there are no obvious flaws, there is nothing to get that excited about either. I appreciate the overall balance in the beer, but nothing makes it stand out—it’s like Switzerland: neutral with sound mechanics. Potentially some age could draw out the character in this beer, but with this one I am not at all certain. Harrumph.

From the bottle: “Grand Cru is our very special Belgian-style dark ale. Imported malts give it a round malty richness, and the fruity complexity and slightly spicy character come from brewing with a proprietary Belgian yeast strain. Don’t let the name fool you: while it may be a special occasion beer, the medium-bodied, elegant incarnation is anything but snobbish.”

ABV: 11%
Bottled on: January 12, 2011

(2/28/2011)

457. New Belgium La Folie Falling Rock Tap House 10th Anniversary Special Edition

While we already tried La Folie, the fact that this is described on the label as “a special blend of all 10 of New Belgium’s Foedres designed to challenge your senses,” and it was bottled specially for the Falling Rock Tap House’s 10th Anniversary means that we’ve got at least a couple of reasons to consider this something slightly different. So we will. After all, we make the rules around here. I picked this up a while ago in Seattle at Bottleworks, and we’ve been saving it for an appropriate occasion. Tonight was that occasion. And no, you don’t need to know anything more than that. Previously from New Belgium, we’ve tried Mighty Arrow Pale Ale, Ranger, Le Fleur, Misseur?, Transatlantique Kriek, Biere de Mars, Fat Tire, 1554 Enlightened Black Ale and La Folie. It’s been a while, New Belgium, but we’re back.

Yo! Highlights! Highlights, yo.

La Folie Falling Rock 10th Anniversary pours an orange-ish brown with an initially foamy white head that quickly reduces to a few wispy arabesques across the top of the glass—sort of the traditional sour beer head. The nose is an interesting mix of acetic sourness, tannic oak with a touch of mustiness, and slight mineral-like aroma that is not quite fully chalky. With some warmth, dark fruit flavors like cherry and raisin start to emerge, and in the final third of the bottled we also got some slight earthy funkiness along with an increased citric sourness. The initial flavor is tart, sharp, and puckeringly sour, although there is also a candy sweetness that accompanies the tartness. As the tartness recedes, bone dry chalky and mineral flavors emerge in the middle before a return of the tartness in the finish; the mix of acetic/vinegar tartness and oak tannic flavors bite and linger pleasantly. La Folie has a light, dry, and tart mouthfeel; mixed with the bright carbonation and the drying components added by the oak, it is lively and puckering on the palate, to say the least. I ended up with a slight flush of perspiration from the tartness across my nose and cheeks about halfway through the bottle. So. Delightful. This version is also more nuanced and developed that the La Folie 2010 we had over Thanksgiving in Seattle—I am guessing the blending and additional aging of this bottle has shoved it on over into the exceptional category. Easily one of the better beers we’ve had this year; totally a Top 10 Best contender.

ABV: 6.0%
Hand Bottled #07 6729

(2/20/2011)