Hollows & Fentimans Alcoholic Ginger Beer

Socrates famously said, "I drank what?!"  Boy, did he know what he was talking about.  This week, bravely, I tried something new, Hollows & Fentimans [no apostrophes] Alcoholic Ginger Beer.  I chose if for two reasons: first, it looked so lonely up there on the shelf next to all those other bottles, and secondly, it would be a first (#wordplay).  Before the mobs are formed, torches sharpened, and pitchforks set ablaze, let me assure you that I mean you no harm.  This was a gamble.  I live for adventure.

Hollows & Fentimans Alcoholic Ginger Beer. 1 pint bottle. 4%ABV. A product of the UK.  Golden, fizzy, probably soda, definitely not beer.

I let the cat out of the bag a little early there, but it needed to be addressed.  This might be a naturally carbonated wine, but the lack of any kind of a cereal grain means that this is NOT beer.  The back label has a clue:
     "Hollows & Fentimans Alcoholic Ginger Beer is made using a time-honoured [limey-word for "honored"]       recipe from just five ingredients: Ginger Root, Water, Sugar, Pear Juice & Yeast."
To me, that is wine, and I'm sure there are many reasonable arguments to be made for the opposite view as well. However, I doubt those arguments would be  made by anyone who had a sip.  I'll put it to bed like this, it might be beer, it might be wine, it might be neither or both of those, but it definitely is soda.  I like soda (it makes my liquor fizzy).

On the shelf, the bottle caught my eye for a number of reason worth mentioning.  The general style of the label seems to be made from ground up hipsters, it could be PBR's fat cousin. The use of what-the-fuck blue is both bold and sleep-inducing.  They seem so insistent on the blue, I wonder if it is a private joke that no one let me in on.  In fact, you can only know it is not an imitation if it's "signed in blue".  That "Beware of imitations" get two mentions on the labels.  Maybe I'm naive, but I have never seen any other alcoholic ginger beer, much less one that tries to pass itself off as Hollows & Fentimans.  Now I want to go the booze shop and see an identical bottle with the signature in beige, or lime green, just so I will know it's bullshit.

A lot of what is going on with this label seems like an inside joke.  Take a look down below, they have some crazy shit on there.  On the front, the label screams in all caps, "BOTANICALLY BREWED WITH THE FINEST NATURAL GINGER ROOT!"  I would assume the all caps was just a text style choice, but, then the exclamation point.  This label just yelled at me like a crazy person.  Throw in the other important information points like being gluten-free, botanically brewed since 1905, was "established in a perfect factory in the north of England, and you will likely miss the most important bit.  Whatever you do, in this life or this drink, do not totally miss the tiny text at the bottom telling you to "upend before pouring for full enjoyment."  I stood on my head for an hour, worth it.  Actually, that bit is so inconspicuous I didn't even notice it was there until glass number 2, the tasting glass.

Ginger, lots of ginger (although, maybe not enough) are what this booze brings to the table.  Also, some pear, and sugar... basically all the crap on the ingredients list.  It's there, all very tastable-n-stuff.  In many ways this a very very slightly boozed up olde-tymey ginger-ale.  It's still just soda.  Tasty soda, but soda (with a wacky label).  That's it.

I write a whole mess of lines about the label, and a few scraggly words about how it tastes.  Take it as you will.  I stand by my review.  If the mood takes you, give it a try.  It's pretty OK, but don't rush out.  This kind of hooch is reserved for the spur-of-the-moment purchase only.

Viven Smoked Porter

Belgium, it would be great country, if only it weren't in Belgium.  I dedicate this weeks blog to that fantastic film, In Bruges.  This beer is not from Bruges, though (which is sad, because it means fewer movie references), this beer is from a place so small, you can't even read the name on the label.  No kidding, it may be late and the lights low, but even in better light, good luck passing that eye exam.  The front of the label has no such issues.  Meet Viven Smoked Porter, a product of Belgium.

Ask yourself, "What is Belgium famous for?"  Chocolates and child abuse, mostly.  Did you know they also make beer?  They make many wacky beers, with crazy wild yeasts and often thumb their noses at German purity laws (perhaps a low-carb strawberry beer called She-Wolf?).  They also make the full range of more traditional ales; doing up my malty dark favorites proper.  Here we have the art of Flemish brewing, from a brewery dating back to the dark ages of 1999, producing one of those fun-if-you-can-find-them smoked ales.  I am glad Belgians learned to make beer, because they only invented the chocolates to the to the kids.

Viven Smoked Porter, 11.2oz bottle, 7%ABV.  Opaque deep brown, a small head that dissipates quickly.  Label best appreciated by a discerning drunk, mid-stumble.

The label grabbed my attention right away.  Huge text, shouting out, "Hey Drunkie! Over here! I am definitely a smoked porter!"  So forceful, yet helpful.  The faux-aged look is fun.  I don't care what anyone thinks, give me a stock parchment from Istockphoto, some old-timey fonts, and a crest: I'm good to go.  The front label has may enjoyable things to look at and read while you sit at your favorite bar. I love that.  I don't know what the hell is going on behind the shield on the crest.  If you find out, please tell me.  The back label makes me regret what I just said about the parchment, fonts and stuff.  That rear label is made only of hate and contempt for the honest drunk.  I can't read print that small, and I'm not going to try just so this label thinks it got one over on me.  Screw that back label; it is stupid and I hate it's stupid face.  Lets move on, the back label is a shit-hole anyway.

At glass one, I can safely say, this beer and I are going to be friends.  We have so much in common!  We both have depth and character, we both smell good, and neither one of us is Chinese (a very different movie reference).  It was a surprisingly short trip to the bottom of glass one.  Despite the respectable (but not excessive) ABV, this guy is smooth and easy.  As far as smoked porters go, Viven's is well put together.  It is not trying to be fancy, just good.  See?  Just like me.

The smell of this beer is gooooooood.  Don't you just love the smell of a smoked beer?  I mean, a porter smells good, but a smoked porter... Well, you just don't pass that up.  Unless you are driving or operating heavy machinery, one should always make time for the bouquet of a lovely smoked beer.  So, it smells good, how's it taste?  Have you ever sat in a large, cushion-y wing-back chair?  Ever had a nice glass of red wine and watched the rain fall outside the window?  I could say words like malty, rich, bitter chocolate, coffee, smoky, yeasty,  and the rest of the crew.  But you already know what a porter tastes like, and a smoked porter as well.  What is notable about this fellow, is how well it works.  Most beers will have a few notes that disagree with me.  Not this one.  Viven just makes it work.  Crappy back label: forgiven.

If you find this beer, buy it. Then hide from your friends and loved ones, wait until you are alone, fluff up your favorite comfy chair, and enjoy.  If you need a place to hide, there are a lot of alcoves in the Astridpark.  You use this word, "alcoves"?

Founders Breakfast Stout

This week, I tried something a little less fancy.  A good and swanky fella donated to my cause a cold six of Founders Oatmeal Stout.  It is a bit more off-the-shelf than what I have been trying, but no less unknown to me and no less fun to try.  So, I sit down and begin.

This guy was brewed for us by Founders Brewery (says so right on the label), they directly named it Breakfast Stout Double Chocolate Coffee Oatmeal Stout and gave it a beautiful 60 IBUs, 8.3%ABV.  The beer is dark, the head minimal, and the bottle has a creepy weird kid on the label.

Soooooo, that creepy kid on the label is totally eating a big bowl of beer with a spoon.  I have no idea what to make of that.  I'm kind of scared, really.  Why do I have to share my beer with some damn kid?  I don't like that kid, his stupid napkin, or his damn spoon.  Screw that budding booze-hound, let's drink some beer.

I liked this beer, at first.  It has oodles of flavor molecules and feels good to drink.  Here, I'll break with established tradition and do the big taste right up front.  There is a train I have to get in front of, and if I wait for the second glass, it will have passed.  Tipping back the glass, you smell the choco malts and the metallic tinge, then your tongue agrees.  Choco malt, yeast, metal, mild bitterness, alcohol, all the things expected from a stout, plus the chewy mouth-feel of an oatmeal stout.  All of that is fine, actually better than fine.  Not outstanding, but certainly worth pouring into a glass.  A glass, just one.  From a 12oz bottle, drink the first 6, then make bread or cheese dip or something with the rest.  What begins as an enjoyable stout, gets muddy, difficult, overly acidic, and just no damn fun.  Towards the end, you feel like you are just trying to prove something to yourself.

Glass two, I lost all my steam.  I don't even want it anymore.  I think the weird kid on the label is there to finish all the bottles when people stop wanting them.  Power to him, I say.  He's doing a great service to the community.  Buuuuuuut, then again, the first glass is pretty tasty.  I don't want to libel up a good beer, so how about a compromise?  Buy a bottle, obtain a drinking buddy, find two glasses, split to bottle, and have a nice beer.  Seriously.

Moa Imperial Stout

Moa Imperial Stout has an impressive bottle.  Damn thing has a champaigne cork for some reason, and black on dark brown labelling with bright yellow accents.  Like Dexter to a killer, once I saw this guy, I had to have him.  The look caught my eye, and the details sealed the deal.  This is from a New Zealand brewery, Moa Brewing Co., and is aged in pinot noir barrels.  It is bottle fermented and conditioned, so I assume the barrel aging happens first.  Or maybe they are just stuffing the full bottles into barrels.  Oh, also the bottle has an embossed emu on the neck.  Drink the bird!!

So, let's start with the dirty details: Moa Imperial Stout, from the Moa Brewing Company, LTD., Marlborough, New Zealand. 12oz, 10.2 ABV, very dark brown, not much head to speak of (which makes the champaine cork pretty pointless).

The label brags about a few Asian and Australian medals, and it certainly looks like a winner.  Looks were clearly a priority with this bottle.  New Zealand must have some well lit drinking holes, though, because with anything less than bright lights, this beer looks like it is called "Imperial Stout" and won some awards.  A different aproach, but different can be good.

I pull the cork, I pour a glass, and I take a sip.  The expectations for an imperial stout are for something thick, rich, malty, boozy, and a little metallic at the end.  Moa checks all those boxes right off the bat, in all the best ways.  There is another layer, of course.  The label says it right up front, pinot noir barrels.  It is there, in the beer, waiting patiently for me.  I'm going to change my relationship status on facebook to "complicated".  So, I pour a second glass and put on my tasting face.  It smells a bit like pennies in soy sauce, just a bit, with vapors of alcohol, yeast, and carbonation.  The first taste is thickness, then a wave of acidity, malt, yeast, sweet and bitter all in a row, finally lingering on the soft palate and dissipating on the back of the tongue.  Oz Clarke says to taste hops in beer on the burp, but he posesses senses vastly beyond mine (I wonder what I have been missing out on).  When I give this a burp taste, I just remember lunch.  A stout rarely talks about it's hops much anyway.  Maybe silence is Golden (get it?).  I tried a sip from a bottle of pinot noir I haven't yet finished, and, sadly, I don't taste it.  I get the wine barrel tones, more subtle and sweet than whiskey barrels or the like.  All the same, I would never be able to Sherlock my way backwards from a sip to the pinot.  I enjoy this beer more as an imperial stout than as a wine barrel aged imperial stout.

Moa makes a pretty fine stout, from the first look to the last sip, a real pleasure.  If you come across a bottle, drink it.  It is familiar and a bit surprising, but mostly it is tasty.  I don't know about beer culture in New Zealand (tiny hobbit pubs, I hope), but, if this is any indication, NZ must be a great place to get sloshed.  

Texas Honey Ale

In my search for new and exciting booze for my face, I have decided to spend a few ounces each week trying something new.  To be fair to anyone reading this, I don't have a refined palette, a deep well of beer knowledge, or any training to bolster my opinions.  What I do have is a love of hooch, a few meager extra bucks, and a small bit of home brewing experience.  Mostly, though, I like beer, and this is a great reason to try new things.

This week I am trying Texas Honey Ale.  An offering of the Guadalupe Brewing Co., New Braunfels, Texas. 7.32 Alc/Vol, 22oz bottle, honey amber in color, minimal foam to the head. 

From the bottle, there are a few things of note: part of the proceeds go to  Texas A&M's honey bee research, and they would very much like you to know this beer was "hand bottled".  I don't know if I give a shit about any of that, but it makes good bottle reading.  Also the label is more fun than a lot of labels out there. As a designer, I'd say it's "OK", shows talent in the handling of the images, and the details are rich and fun to explore.  All the same it feels pretty literal to the beer. And that's OK.

Now for the important part, how's it taste?  My first glass, the just-drink-it glass, was a good but not overly good beer. It was a bit sweet (which makes sense for a honey ale), smooth, and rich.  Not hoppy at all, a reasonable malt, but not chocolaty. "Honey ale" pretty well sums it up.  My second glass, the sniff-it-swirl-it glass, was better. Of course I had a beer already by then.  This brew is thick (not stout thick, but it sure ain't thin), has some chew to it, and hangs around for a while after you knock it back. First the smell, like honey.  I say "like" honey because when you stick your nose in  jar of honey, it smells like honey, but when you smell this, it smells like honey.  It tastes sweet at first, then big yeast and malt, it fades a bit and finally sublimes to honey.  "Sublimes" is the best verb I have used all week, you should give it a twirl too.

This is a good beer, not too complex, not extravagent, but it tastes nice and makes me smile.  For the money, it's a good value (under $7 for a 22oz bottle), and what the hell, it's named "Texas Honey Ale" and they give money to a school. Go for it.