Rahr & Sons Snowmageddon

Why can't we all celebrate an horrible even with a commemorative beer?  It seems so natural, so perfect... a Falling Off the Lager, I Burned Down the Farmhouse Ale, or maybe a Nuclear Fallout Framboise.  This is a great idea, and, maybe, if all the children of the world join their hands and voices we can create a catastrophe large enough to justify a really really good beer!  Mull it over and get back to me.

Rahr & Sons Snowmageddon, an oatmeal stout.  9% ABV, 55 IBU, 1 pint 6 oz (650 ml).  Brewed in Fort Worth, Texas.  One of the "To Thee Series".  Very dark brown, no head (which is dissapointing, 'cause a big frothy head would be awesome for a beer called Snowmageddon).

I don't know if your beers normally talk to you.  Perhaps they do.  Perhaps they tell you to burn things?  Perhaps you have a psychological problem and should seek professional help.  I, however, am fine.  Beer talks to me because I am special.  It reminds me what an excellent dancer I am, and how well I rock a pair of hot pants (Thomas knows what I'm talking about, he's the king of hot pants).  The 9% ABV of this beer told the squiggly lines on the label to regale me with a story from back at the turn of the decade.  It spins yarns about a mighty snow fall sent by the devil herself!*  It seems this demon powder tried to kill all the beer that year, and collapsed the roof of the brewery.  The mob was incensed and took up pitchfork and torch, fighting back the white mass to drag free the bloody and battered brewerizing metal automatons to relative safety.*  From the wreckage a single baby beer was found, bringing shit-facedness to all the good boys and girls.*  Now, every year, on the anniversary of that she-demon blizzard, Snowmageddon reappears, resplendent in spandex and glitter, to lay a boozy smooch on all who believe in it!*  And that, children, is the story of Snowmageddon (give or take a detail or two).

"Austin, what does this beer taste like?" you ask.  Well, I am getting to that.  Calm down, have a drink and I'll tell you.  This beer tastes good.  Most oatmeal stouts involve something of a gut-punch, but this little fella is smooth and yummy.  I want to dip cookies in it.  I should make cookies.**  There is a creamy smoothness that carries a rich malt and yeastiness.  The light fizz keeps the metallic tinge company through the lips and over the tongue.****

I am distracted.  Simon and Garfunkel are keeping rhythm for me while I write this, but, rather than staying in the background, they are completely setting the mood for this beer.  Between the high ABV and The Boxer, the smooth malt and Mrs. Robinson, the rich creamy texture and The Only Living Boy in New York, I find a shift in my mood from delightfully silly to full-blown karaoke.  Don't even try to tell me that karaoke isn't a feeling.*****

The Snowmageddon is a versatile beer, it would seem.  A great many beers have an ideal setting or situation.  They invoke a narrow gestalt, be it that ideal sunset on the porch with the pooch, or the elbow-to-elbow bar beer.  Not so with this'n.  This'n****** is a nearly any-time beer.  Unless it is Miller-Time, in which case everyone who isn't Venkman can just go shoot themselves in the face.  It is not a surprising beer for some unexpected flavor or gimmick.  What it is, is a well constructed oatmeal stout, the flavors are traditional for a powerful bold stout and the it embraces the chewy character of the oatmeal stout.  It stops short of cudgeling you in the face with dense and boozy beer fists like some imperial stouts might, and remains absolutely drinkable.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't cap off a 5k run with one, but generally speaking, f' yeah, pour away.

The guys up at Rahr & Sons, they make a consistently good beer.  I like what they do.  This one however, this little-magic-baby Snowmageddon, they knocked out of the park.  I'm glad their roof caved in and destroyed their brewery; it gave me this glass of beer.  So, it was totally worth it.  Can't wait for next years visit from the Snowmageddon.  Also, if you are still unconvinced, each bottle has an hundred dollar bill in it!*

*Indicates a high likelihood of bullshit on my part, not to be confused with reality.

**I plan to make cookies later.***
***No, you can't have any of my cookies.
****Did you finish it in your head?  I did.
*****Neither is sobriety, it seems.
******Sprinkle this contraction liberally in your conversations for the respect of your peer group.

Smuttynose S'Muttonator Double Bock

A ram and a baby seal walk into a glass... no, wait... I screwed it up.

Rams are funny lookin', baby seals make me want to join a club, and a double bock makes me want to drink.  Combine all three and you have yourself a beer!  OK, just the last one means you have a beer, but the ram and seal don't hurt. Trust me, I've checked.  Plus, the ram has this silly smushed-back face and a tail that looks suspiciously like the artist got away with painting a dick on the label (way to go, that person).  I can't be certain, but the seal looks like he just watched the artist get away with this exposure, too.  That seal knows, man.  He knows.

This week I'm downing a Smuttynose Brewing Company (from Hampton, NH) double bock delightfully called, S'Muttonator!  Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnnn...  It has a hefty 9.5% ABV, and comes in a 1pint 6oz (750ml) bottle.  It is a dark honey amber with not much frothy-froth.  But with an ABV like that, who cares about the froth, or who cares for long?  Go get your lampshade and warm up your Danny Boy, this could get ugly.

The first taste is a slap full of heavy damn malt. Ker-blammers!  This must be some kind of dare.  A case of these might create a singularity if you left it unattended in Hollywood.  It would star Nick Cage and John Belushi's hologram.  But I digress.  But for a good reason: this tastes just like a heavy, malty, German ale.  Seriously, that is it.  No surprises, no frills.  Picture it, tasting it in your mind's drunkard.  Yup, that's it.  It is good, and I like drinking it, but it has nothing unexpected to offer.  Which is not a bad thing.  I'm a beer drinker.  I like beer.  I like it when my beer tastes like beer, and for a reason.  That reason is that I like beer.  So, thumbs up, Smuttynose.  You have crafted a mighty good, mighty heavy, mighty malty beer, that tastes like a beer's beer.

Let me talk about this notion of a beer's beer.  I will talk about it through the lens of my second glass.  There are some things a beer drinker might presume to be present in a beer of this sort: an acidic and malty nose, a mild tartness to the taste of grains, a mellow yeastiness contrasted by a sharp alcohol and caramel after-tastes.  It is a basic and unsurprising description.  It is a description of an ale, golden to amber in color, with a reasonable booze to it. In that way, I say it is a "beer's beer."  Please don't misunderstand me, this is good beer, just not surprising beer.  S'Muttonator represents a solid and well executed double bock.

So, you know, try it, if the mood strikes you.  You can guess what you will get.  You will be right.  And that is not a bad thing.  I like it.  I'd go on, but I think I'm kinda drunkish.

Les Fleurs Du Mal

Les Fleurs Du Mal (The flowers of Evil)

What a name!  And its got skulls on it, and a scribbly pen kind of text, and crappy flower drawings, and "evil"!   Ooooooh... Stick a fork in me.  Make it a pitchfork.  Taking this guy off the shelf was a no-brainer, it looks way cool.  So, who wants to try a "saur" beer?  

Les Fleurs Du Mal, from New Braunfels Brewing Company.  16.9 oz, 5.74%ABV.  Honey-straw in color with a pleasing but brief head. Hefenweizen? Saur ale?  Saur wheat ale?  I dunno, s'beer I think.

I love the name of this beer.  The design of the label is pretty kick-ass, too.  Tucked up on the left edge of the label it says, "sans cesse a mes cotes s'agite le demon" or, according to Google translate, "always by my side stirs the demon."  Then, like I said, about the skulls and inky pen letters, and half-assed flowers, it is mostly good good stuff.  Even the company logo is pretty spiffy.  But they ruin it with some bull-shit text about good and evil, and why they put lemongrass in the beer.  I read it, and now I am questioning the way I decide to spend my time.  I won't write it out, but it's crap (there is a picture at the bottom, but don't look at it).  Also, it has some weird capitalization choices going on.  I've spent some time looking at it now, and all I can see is that stupid blah-blah crap now.

For context, New Braunfels is a dull town.  Once a year they have an out-of-this-world pork chop on a stick, but the rest of the time, its is just a bathroom-stop on the way somewhere better.  So, I can understand if they were bored and thought no one would notice the vomit-stain of text on part of the label.  Still, though... what a way to ruin an otherwise terrific label.  I'm not trying to insult New Braunfelians, mind you.  Those people know they live in a shit-hole tourist trap.  Power to 'em, I say.  I'll even grant you they have some very accommodating bathrooms located right off the highway.  All the same, making poor decisions about where to live does not excuse polluting an otherwise solid beer label with that crap.  

The beer, though... the beer is surprisingly drinkable.  I'm not usually a fan of the sour beers, but kudos to those guys.  Sip one was a bit of a punch, but this stuff grows on you super quick.  It has this kind of floral sweet/tart thing going.  There is very little of what I usually go for in a beer to be found in this bottle, but, damn, I really like it.  It isn't so much a contemplative beer as it is a fantastic beer for just tasting.  It makes you want to be a snotty-snot and start talking about hints of this and notes of that.  I'm feeling excited to get to glass 2, and I can't even blame the wimpy ABV.  Still, as much as I am enjoying this, I think I might enjoy it more if I was illiterate.  I really hate that stupid text block.  I should keep drinking and see what happens.

Glass 2 and the snotty-snot tasting time.  First the smells: a big sour tinge, just after the sour comes a mildly floral balsamic vinegar, then a bit of that lemongrass they ham-fistedly mentioned.  Now the taste: cool and tingly bubbles become dried apricots and sour cherry, then a wave of vinegar, all while honey sits Fonzie-esque in the back and just hints at its presence.  All of this happens in a field of summer wild flowers while eating a caprese salad.  I know that right now, you and I both kind of want to punch me in the face for saying that, but try the beer.  It could make a lousy poet out of anyone.  The overall effect of a sip of this beer is an electrical storm on a sunny day.  Maybe that is why they throw out all this "evil" and flowers with skulls.  It makes a kind of sense.

I gave this brewery a lot of crap about their label and about being from New Braunfels, but, to be fair, they deserved it.  However, they have made a really good beer.  It is a saur that I could drink a six pack of (if it comes in six packs).  The last time I had a saur beer I would have liked to kill it with fire, also the saur before that, and the one before that too.  Me and this beer, thought, we're friends.  Despite our many faults we like each other and get along great.  Way to brew New Braunfels!  I wonder if they would let me visit the brewery?  I bet their bathroom is great.