Live-to-Blog Review: Great Lakes My Bitter Wife IPA

I’ve been overly negligent in my blogging lately, and am running behind in my beer reviews, so I thought I’d review this beer straight to the blog, just for something a bit different.

Billed as a no doubt tongue-in-cheek “tribute” to Carrie Nation, the mad woman of the Women’s Christian Temperance Movement, this limited edition beer from Ontario’s Great Lakes Brewing is a big IPA,  with 7% alcohol by volume and, judging by my first sniff, a boatload of hops.

Amber-hued and just on the hazy side, the nose straight out of the fridge is ruby red grapefruit and a hint of pineapple, growing a shade oniony and more piney mango as it warms. It certainly hits the palate with a nice hoppy glow, and then grows steadily hoppier from there, segueing from peach and pineapple to grapefruit juice and lemon zest, with slight malty underpinnings of canned peaches and apricots. The finish is where the hops really assert themselves, however, with a strong and rather intense citrusy bite.

This is one of those IPAs that is not for the faint-of-heart. I enjoy it right through to the swallow, but am somewhat put off by the concentration of bitterness on the finish, and if I feel that way then I’m guessing all but the committed hophead might be at least a bit overwhelmed by its hoppy aggression.

Belgh Brasse Roars Back

If you lived in or visited Québec a little over a decade ago, you may remember Belgh Brasse. Based in Amos, near the Ontario border in the Québec northwest, the brewery opened with significant fanfare, much of it playing upon the purity of brewing water available from the Abitibi esker, and a purportedly Belgian-influenced ale called 8.

8 was, ultimately, a dud. I tasted it a couple of times and was left unimpressed, while others complained of the beer’s inconsistency. It died. A resuscitation of the brewery followed, with an even less inspiring pale lager called Taïga. It also died.

Now Belgh Brasse is back for a third kick at the can, and in this case it appears that the third time is indeed the charm. I have sampled two beers from the new Mons line of “Belgian-Inspired” beers, the Abbey Witte and the Abbey Blonde, and was impressed by both.

Sandy gold in colour with a slight haze, the Mons Abbey Witte has a sweetish, perfumey and lightly peppery lemon aroma, accented by candied orange peel and perhaps a hint of cinnamon, and a rounded and citrusy, light-bodied middle and a drying and faintly spicy-peppery finish. Belgian-inspired, for certain, it has a decided lemony note to it that makes me think just a bit about Berliner weisse, as well. It might lean a bit too hard on the sweet and fruity side of things, but is still nicely refreshing and quaffable.

The Mons Abbey Blonde is certainly a fruity ale, with dried apricot and canned peaches in the nose and a malty, dry caramel and lightly spicy body with some tropical and peachy fruitiness. I sampled it at cellar temperature first and refrigerator temp second and found it more expressive and robust when colder, although not so cold as to suppress the fruit and spice.

I’m told now that the brewery has a dubbel out and a stout on the way, and is for sale in the U.S. as well as in Québec. Based on these first two tastings, I’d say that this time Belgh Brasse might be sticking around for some time to come.

 

Tasted!: Alexander Keith’s Hop Series

Earlier today, I put up a post about bricks-and-mortar breweries, beer commissioners and so-called “gypsy” brewers, and why what matters most, to my mind, at least, is what ends up in the glass. Which seems to me to be a good set-up for a chat about a couple of new beers from the largest brewing company in the world.

The brewing company in question is, of course, Anheuser-Busch InBev, or more specifically their Canadian subsidiary Labatt, and its Maritime sub-label, Alexander Keith’s.

Now, many of you might know Keith’s by its namesake “India pale ale,” printed in quotations because it is quite unlike any other IPA I have ever encountered and has far more in common with a mainstream lager than it does, say, Meantime India Pale Ale. And thanks to that knowledge, you’re probably going to be quite sceptical when I tell you of two new Keith’s brews, both part of the Alexander Keith’s Hop Series: Hallertauer Hop Ale and Cascade Hop Ale.

As the names imply, each is a single hop beer, and were in fact delivered to me with two little jars of hop flowers, one filled with Cascade hops and the other with Hallertauer, ‘natch.

(I’m assuming the Hallertauer is Hallertauer Mittelfruh, and it smells as such, but Labatt isn’t saying.)

Tasting them simultaneously, I found little difference in their appearance, but rather more in their aromas. The Hallertauer, as befits the hop’s characteristics, is herbaceous and a little sweet, with notes of fresh grass, alfalfa and just a bit of rosemary. The Cascade, on the other hand, is predictably citrusy and quite nicely balanced with a bit of caramelly maltiness.

On the palate, the Hallertauer offers no hop flavours jumping out, but rather a mix of dryish maltiness and some dryly herbal notes, ending lightly bitter and very dry, but with an odd sticky sensation lingering on the tongue. The Cascade, I found, works much better, with the citrusy hop shooting forward from the outset and just outshining the orange, peach and caramel malt. On the finish, there is a moderate bitterness and lingering dryness, which makes it much more refreshing and appetizing, and ultimately more successful ale.

So both beers are quite competently brewed, as you’d expect, with the Hallertauer recommended for more timid palates and the Cascade for those just entering pale ale and IPA territory. In other words, I’d say this is not a bad effort at all. But is their creation and marketing a wise move for Labatt?

I wonder. If they’re trying to prove their mettle to craft beer aficionados, such timid attempts are unlikely to sway many people. If they’re offering hoppier alternatives to Alexander Keith’s fans, I’d say they run the risk of turning them on to pale ales and IPAs brewed by smaller, competing brewers. And if they’re simply throwing something out to counter the Molson Six Pints division, I’d say it looks like they’re trying to use a beagle to corral a stallion in full gallop.

 

People Bring Me Beer, I Drink It

Or, at least, that is sometimes the way it works. On other occasions, I run around the world trying to find the best of the best, and occasionally breweries are good enough to ship me samples of something I’ve specifically requested from them, usually beers I can’t manage to get otherwise.

And then there are those beers that just randomly wind up on my doorstep. These are a few of them.

There’s been a bit of a buzz around Toronto today about the St. Ambroise Érable, presumably because the same sales rep who put a pair of bottles of the stuff into my hands did likewise for others, like Jordan and Chris. So I might as well chime in, and before I read what either has said about it, I might add.

Unlike other maple beers I’ve tried, there’s no doubting the maple-ness of this brew, even cold out of the fridge and from a foot away, it smells like maple candy crossed with the caramel fudge I used to make in my mom’s double-boiler when I was a kid. It hits the palate sweet and more caramelly than mapley, but turns progressively maple-accented as it warms in the mouth, eventually becoming almost spicy with a drying hop that lasts through the bittersweet and ever-so-slightly cloying finish.

McAuslan has been known to play with post-fermentation flavourings – their Apricot Wheat is, or at least was the last time I checked, flavoured with apricot after it’s pretty much otherwise finished – and I suspect that is the case here, as well. Not that there is anything wrong with that, mind you. I have no problem imagining enjoying this with ham or a bowl of vanilla ice cream, maybe even glazing the former and topping the latter with it, too.

(The bigger McAuslan development, in my opinion, is that they are now canning their workhorse St. Ambroise Pale Ale. This is good news, indeed.)

I also had dropped off a bottle of Great Lakes Brewing’s 25^th Anniversary Bourbon Barrel-Aged Imperial Stout, and I’m quite happy for it. The best of the Ontario brewery’s quartet of anniversary releases, this is an engaging, if slightly simple, sipper that offers barrel notes in just the right balance with the prune, licorice and chocolate brownie flavours of the stout. It finishes a bit on the boozy side, but you should expect that of an 11% beer, and besides, the rest of it drinks far closer to single digit strength.

Oregon’s Deschutes Brewing sometimes sends me beer, bless their hearts, and one recent arrival was Hop Henge IPA. The polar opposite of the Red Chair NWPA I sampled from this brewery late last year, this 10.6% alcohol hop monster has a huge, herbal and resinous aroma – what those weed-smoking west coasters would call “dank” – and a big, hoppy, piney, grapefruit peel-ish flavour that marches over the palate, surprisingly without ripping it to shreds. That it feels more hoppy than bitter in the mouth you can attribute to a whole lot of fruity malt, but still, the hops rule every aspect of this beer.

I also have a bottle of Ontario beer importer Roland & Russell’s first foray into brewing, Stormy Monday, an 11% barley wine aged in calvados barrels and bottled under the imprint of the Bush Pilot Brewing Company. Brewed separately in two different breweries and then blended and barrel-aged, this ale has the aroma of a beery potpourri, with a huge perfume of clove and dried apple, some spicy florals and something curiously resembling Indian curry. (A check of the label reveals that to be cardamom, along with, I suspect, the figs and raisins. There are 25 ingredients in this beer, including seven malts, five hops, dried quince and juniper, for heaven’s sake!)

Unfortunately, the body doesn’t quite hold up to the complexity of the aroma. (Or maybe that should be “fortunately,” since that curry thing probably wouldn’t work too well in a barley wine.) First on the palate is a fairly simple caramel-fruity chocolate combination, and then the spices and mocha notes kick in – coffee and cocoa are two more ingredients – along with a decent hit of calvados and some spicy hoppiness. It doesn’t quite all come together for me, but it’s definitely going in the right direction.

The finish is my favourite part of this beer, not because it’s over but because it finally finds a cohesive flavour profile – brandy, raw cocoa, some sort of exotic, apple-accented coffee and lingering clove and alcohol.

Brewed in collaboration with Danish brewer Anders Kissmeyer, this is a beer to be faulted only for reaching too high, dreaming too big, and possibly having the contents of somebody’s spice cabinet accidentally tip into the brew kettle. Over time, I expect the spices will calm down a bit and create a more balanced whole, but that’s something for a future post.

The Perils of Points

Through all my years of reviewing and occasionally rating beers and whiskies and other spirits, I have steadfastly refused to involve myself in point-based ratings. Wildly popular with many of my drinks-writing peers – or perhaps endured as an unavoidable reality – I have long viewed them as problematic in the extreme.

I’ve explained why I feel this way several times, but every once in a while an example comes along that illustrates my misgivings so well it deserves reiteration. Late last week was one of those whiles.

It arrived in the form of a promotional email from a wine importer I follow. (Yes, The Beer Guy both buys and drinks and thoroughly enjoys wine, too. Get over it.) The email was hyping the arrival of several wines from the same producer, including the two following:

****** **** Cabernet Sauvignon 2009

Mendoza, Argentina

PRICE: $45.95/btl

PRESS:

92 Points, Wine Advocate

 

****** Cabernet Sauvignon 2010

Mendoza, Argentina

PRICE: $19.95/btl

PRESS:

92 Points, Wine Advocate

I’ve omitted the names because they’re beside the point, which is that these two wines, made from the same varietal and from the same region and the same producer, merit the exact same score. Yet Wine 1 is more than twice the price of Wine 2, which, absent of actual tasting notes – as many of these scores are presented on shelf-talkers – is enough to make one wonder why in heaven’s name anyone would pay $46 when they can get equal quality for $20.

(The same offering, by the way, also included a Cabernet-Malbec blend from the same producer for $109.95 with a Wine Advocate score of 98. That’s a six point difference over the $20 wine, or $15 per point.)

Now, granted any rating system is going to run into the same problems, but it is my view that: a) Words are always better than points; b) If you offer people a scoring shorthand, they will almost always use it; and c) If score you must, four or five stars provide a similar indication of quality with a broader margin for inclusion. For instance, Hugh Johnson’s rating system from his Pocket Wine Book:

*                      plain, everyday quality

**                    above average

***                  well known, highly reputed

****                grand, prestigious, expensive

Not necessarily the scale I would use personally, but certainly something more descriptive than an arbitrary 92 or 89, I think.

The Craft BeerAdvent Calendar

Okay, it’s November still and too early to start writing about – shhhhhh! – Christmas, but December 1 is just around the corner and that’s when you’ll need to have your advent calendar in place if you want to have (almost) a month of fun.

Fun? Opening tiny doors to see a cute picture or sample an industrial chocolate? Are you kidding me?

No, not at all. Because the BeerAdvent Calendar I have in mind is big and heavy and filled with an assortment of European beers never or seldom before seen in Canada. And believe me when I tell you that some of them are actually very good.

Of course, I can’t tell you what all the beers are, because that would ruin the surprise, but I can say that they make for an interesting selection. (Yes, I went ahead and opened all the little doors so that I could better report on it.) A dozen of the beers are from Austria, and in truth they are among the least interesting overall, though some are still quite good and others are, um, not what you’d expect.

(That “not what you’d expect” part applies also to a beer from Germany — *cough*day 18*cough* — but I shouldn’t say more lest I give the game away.)

The remainder of the brews are mixed between Denmark, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands and Switzerland. Some are better than others, a few are truly spectacular – (sing it!) on the 23^rd day of Christmas my calendar gave to me, a pretty friggin’ awesome beer – and fittingly for December, ten of them are 7% alcohol or stronger.

The Calendar is a product of Craft Beer Importers of Alberta, although I’m told that it’s sold out in its home province. Some are apparently still available in parts of British Columbia, so check the Facebook page for availability and get yours soon.

Tasted!: Great Lakes (Canada) 25th Anniversary Belgian Saison

This is, I believe, the second is what I expect will be a series of special edition beers celebrating the Toronto-based Great Lakes Brewing Company‘s silver anniversary.

My first impression of this medium golden brew is that I wish they had chosen a different name for it. I have nothing against spices in a saison — although they are not at all necessary, are they Brasserie Dupont? — but neither do I think that the use of a yeast classified as a “classic Belgian Saison yeast” necessarily means that you’re making a beer of that style. There needs to be more, in my opinion, like dryness. Like hops.

The GLB Belgian Saison — and just to add a quibble, it’s not really Belgian, is it? I mean, they didn’t go to Belgium to brew it, right? — is a perfectly enjoyable beer, spritely and spicy and, even at 6.5% alcohol, quite quaffable. In fact, it reminds me more of the unspiced, unsaison Brugse Zot than it does any other saison I’ve tasted in Belgium, and I’ve been known to enjoy a few glasses of that beer at a session. But is it a saison? No, I don’t really think so.

First off, there’s the sweet character of the grains of paradise used to spice the beer. It’s in the nose and in the body, and while it’s offset a bit by the coriander and pepper also used, it still serves to keep things on the sweeter side of spicy. Then there is the dryness, or rather the lack thereof. Maybe it will dry out more in a year or so, but let’s face it, most people will be drinking this in the summer of 2012, not 2013. And while there is some hoppiness on the finish, it isn’t quite sufficient to erase the thin, cloying, honey-ish sweetness that lingers on the back of the tongue.

All that said, this is a beer I enjoy and would pair happily with some soft and stinky cheese. It just isn’t a saison.

Beer in Canada

I’ve been a bit busy running around, flying about and writing for money of late, so I’ve missed out on posting about some upcoming events and news items pertaining to beer in Canada. Here, then, is a quick round-up of interest to Canucks and those planning to visit my home and native land in the near future:

1) The big news of the summer is that Westvleteren is coming to town! Now, Westvleteren 12 might be the most over-hyped beer in history, but the monastery brewery is nonetheless exceptional at what they do, so this opportunity is nothing to sneeze at. Alberta-based Horizon Beers is the agency bringing it in, in the form of 6 bottle, 2 glass six-packs. The last I heard, allocations are going to Ontario and points west – sorry Maritimes & Quebec – and it should be arriving sometime in the very near future. Keep your eyes peeled!

2) For Torontonians, on the eve of Toronto’s Festival of Beer, comes word (via Canadian Beer News) that a new beer festival is headed your way. The Roundhouse Craft Beer Festival will take place August 11 and 12 in the area fronting Steam Whistle Brewing. Check here for details.

3) I won’t be around for the Roundhouse fest because I’ll be busy at the Halifax Seaport Beer Festival that weekend, hosting a beer dinner at Brussels Restaurant on Thursday and hanging at the fest Friday and Saturday. If you’re in or nearby to Nova Scotia, come on over and say hi!

4) The weekend following the Seaport fest, I’ll be in Ottawa for the National Capital Craft Beer Festival, speaking both Friday and Saturday. My buddy Jordan St. John will be there, too, so get yourself down to Marion Dewar Plaza on August 17 and 18 and harass him, will ya?

5) Finally, I’ve been sampling a bunch of Canadian beers of late, both established brands and new arrivals. Here are some thoughts in brief –

• Waterloo Authentic Amber, from Brick Brewing, sold singly or as part of their sampler pack, shows caramelly malt and some vanilla notes from the oak chips used in its lagering. Not bad, but a bit too sweet and cloying for my tastes.
• Brasseurs Sans Gluten’s Blonde Ale is a gluten-free winner, spicy and citrusy with a bone dry finish. A triumph for Celiac and gluten-sensitive beer drinkers.
• Beau’s All Natural Brewing Company’s latest collaboration, Venskab, made with Anders Kissmeyer, is a fascinating creature, with bog myrtle, yuzu fruit and ice wine-soaked wood chips all figuring in its recipe. The result is a sweet-ish and somewhat winey tripel, reminiscent of a citrusy dry vermouth, with bitterness creeping around on the outskirts. We’ll be serving this at my beer dinner in Halifax.
• Lastly, Moosehead sent me over some of their Cracked Canoe, a 3.5% alcohol light lager with a thin sweetness, not quite grainy, but far from caramel or toffee maltiness. All in all, a very light tasting lager with a sweetish edge to it.

 

Canadian Versus American, Via Scotland

The Scottish beer company, Innis & Gunn, which specializes in ales aged in a variety of different types of barrel, is fascinated with North America, or so it seems. For several years now, they have produced a special edition beer for July 1, Canada Day. In the past, it has been aged in a Canadian whisky barrel, although that approach was abandoned this year, supposedly because the Canuck whisky doesn’t add enough character to the barrel and, hence, the beer.

Now that they’re selling in the U.S., Innis & Gunn decided this year to also release an Independence Day 2012 edition ale, clocking in at 7% alcohol and brewed with American hops. Simply because I was able to do so, I blind tasted the two beers side-by-side.

What turned out to be the Canada Day beer is notably darker than the Independence Day brew, and also stronger at 7.7%. (Not that the Scots are implying anything about the relative ability of Americans and Canadians to hold their booze, of course.)

On the nose, the Canuck ale also showed significantly more complexity than did the Yank, with raisin and toffee and oak sitting atop a faintly boozy aroma, in comparison to the heavily vanilla-forward nose of the U.S. beer. (Is Independence Day matured in bourbon oak? The packaging doesn’t say, although the aroma certainly suggests as much.)

In the body, the U.S. ale continues its vanilla-esque ways, although not to the degree I expected,  with fruitiness, chocolate and soft caramel notes leading to a still sweet but not cloying finish. The Canada Day beer, on the other hand, mixes dark fruit like plum, raisin and date with vanilla notes, sweet caramel, hints of cocoa and a mild spiciness, finishing off-dry and warming.

I’m not convinced that either is necessarily better than the other – although Independence Day seems a simpler, more straight forward ale – but the U.S. ale is certainly well suited to the barbecue and beer traditions of the fourth of July, while Canada Day seems more a late night fireworks sort of beer.

Three Canadians and a Scot Walk Into a Bar…

I’m taking a break from the merry slog I’m making through all the Brazilian beers I brought back from Montréal last week. (If you Tweet, follow me at @BeaumontDrinks and you can watch it all unfurl under the hashtag #MyBrazilianBeerHaul.) So here is a quartet of non-Brazilian reviews I’ve been meaning to get to for a little while.

First up, from Québec, the beer now known simply as Cheval Blanc, winner of a gold medal in last week’s Canadian Beer Awards. Hazy light gold in colour, it has a suitably spicy, orange- and lemon-accented aroma and a spritely body, with pinpricks of peppery, coriandery spiciness filling the mouth even as the beer’s maltiness sneaks underneath to sweeten things up a bit. On the finish, it’s off-dry and quite fruity. Perhaps I’m drinking this slightly warmer than it would ideally be – I keep my beer fridge at about 5 – 6 degrees Celsius – but I find it weighs a bit on the cloying side for what is normally a crisp and refreshing sort of beer.

Next up we have British Columbia’s Thirsty Beaver Amber Ale, from the BC interior’s Tree Brewing. Rich copper in colour with a frothy collar of off-white foam, it has a slightly vegetal aroma with toasted grain accents and a whiff of something like raw baby turnips. The body begins with a mild sweetness before becoming gently hoppy with back notes of cooked apple, alfalfa and softly cinnamony spice. The finish is dry and slightly bitter, but there is a grassy, vegetal quality to this beer that disturbs me somewhat.

Now arises the Scot in the group, albeit one with strong Canadian leanings. Each Canada Day for the last three years, Innis & Gunn has released a special edition beer to the Canuck market, and each year it has been aged in a Canadian whisky barrel. Apparently that wasn’t working out as well as planned, though, since this year the Canadian content is limited to the artwork of Gary Whitley adorning the box which contains the bottle. The nose of this 7.7% Scot is big on the toffee with a touch of vanilla and a fruitiness best described as preserved plum. On the palate, it is, if anything, bigger than its advertised strength, with loads of sweet caramel and spicy toffee against a backdrop of baked apple and orange marmalade. The finish stays on the sweet side, but shows its alcohol in an oh-so-pleasant fashion.

Finally, back to Québec, we have the St. Ambroise Framboise, a fruit beer I can’t recall having tasted previously from a brewery I admire and respect. Deep, almost blood red, with an aroma that screams “raspberries,” I immediately suspect that this, like the St. Ambroise Apricot Wheat, has a healthy dose of pasteurized fruit concentrate added post fermentation, and the big fruitiness of the body does little to dissuade me from that view. That said, however, it has the decency to taste like real raspberries, rather than saccharinated extract, and also like the Apricot, offers a fine, not overly sweet balance between fruit and beer flavours. Regardless of how they make this, I think it’s a lovely fruit beer.