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.

Perle ai Porci Oyster Stout

Adorable little piggies are not just for breakfast anymore!  Isn't that great?  I had felt so limited.  Plus, oysters and clams are now useful for more things than just trying to score.  It seems that modern science had finally combined a picture of a piggy, oysters, clams, and beer into just beer.  I then combined that beer with my face, and now I'm gonna tell you all about it.

Take a second, right now, to scroll down and look at the picture. Go ahead, I'll wait...

Did you see it?  The piggy?  She's all monocular and dressed for a night out.  What you saw there is a prime example of a damn fine, eye-catching beer label.  Now, I'm 80% certain that no such pig exists in real life, but when have I ever let real life get in the way of my beer drinking?  Correct, madam.  Never!  I believe in this pig, even though she cannot fly, and is just an ordinary pig.  Seriously, this beer could have been absolute crap, or worse, empty, and I would still have enjoyed it just for the pig on the label.

As for the label, the content is boiler plate, blah blah blah, recycle, blah blah blah, surgeon general.  But the rest is inspiring.  The shape of the label, the colors and care taken with the art, the funky bottle with its embossed brewer's logos, and a portrait of a pig, severe yet comic in its handling, with text gracefully hugging the contours of the shield-like pig-frame...  I am in romantic love with this logo, and we are going to be happy together dammit.  The children will be raised Jewish for obvious reasons.  I like the label is what I'm saying.

Perle ai Porci (Pearls Before Swine) Oyster Beer from Birra Del Borgo, Borgorose, Italy (Birradelborgo.it if you nasty).  5.5%ABV in an 11oz bottle.  "Ale brewed with oysters and clams."  Pretty dark, mostly un-foamy, and a cute little piggy.  We're a couple.

I've been sipping away at the first glass while writing this (which explains and excuses all grammatical mistakes), and I like it.  It is smooth and deep, but doesn't have a real big flavor oomph.  It is an easy-going beer, drifting along and taking its time.  It has a bit of sourness and a heavy malt, but I don't taste anything of the oysters and clams.  No brine, no seafood flavor, no smell of the ocean.  The flavors are familiar and good.  This is a solid stout, well constructed and delivers an easy satisfaction to my face.  You'd probably like it too.

I spent some time in Italy, and, while there, I spent some money in Italian bars.  Italians, in general, drink shit beer.  Horrible, waste-of-a-glass beer.  So when I see the name of this beer, and I taste it, I can only think the Porci in question are the beer drinkers of Italy.  Certainly not me.  I'm awesome and people like me.  My beer-pig significant other told me so.  If I were Italian beer drinking swine, would that still make this beer the pearls?  Would this beer be the pearls cast before swine?

The second glass held no surprises.  The flavors did not open up and the aromatics remained as they were.  And that's OK.  The smells are of a sweet chocolate and the first tastes are of rich malt and a hint of Mexican chocolate.  Then comes the acidity and a mild sourness, but pleasantly.  Maybe even a hint of tart grapes.  A very drinkable beer.  With a touch of sour grapes.

But, Perle ai Porci?  That is a bold claim, even for an Italian.  In Italy, this may be the perle, but here, now, for me?  No.  As I said, I'm awesome.  For me, this is birra a ubriachi (questionably according to google translate).  I like it, though, and it likes me.  We've got a good thing going.

Lake Monster "unfiltered"

I look forward each week to writing this blog.  I have a process that I get a kick out of: first I pick a store that I know has a decent beer selection (often my local HEB), then I scour through the onesies for something that meets my criteria (never had it before, looks interesting or unique, and won't break the bank), it gets home and goes straight into the fridge, before the week is out, I find a quiet few hours, grab my favorite reviewing glass, crack my beer open, pour, take a pic, then take a sip.  There is some crap about reviewing the beer in blog form after that, but that part is mostly bullshit anyway and not worth wasting time on.  The thing I was thinking about while taking that first sip today was the pure joy I get from this process.  I don't know about you, but, for me, taking the first sip of a new beer is like remembering that things aren't all bad.  The beer may be great or it may suck balls, but the worst thing that happens at that moment is that I get to try a new beer.  Plus, little known fact, if you blog about the beer you drink, the calories don't count and it improves muscle tone.

"So, I got that going for me."

                      ~C. Spackler

This week's beer got my attention (and became the first canned beer I've reviewed) by a notable absence, any kind of helpful description of its contents, what-so-ever.  The can says "Lake Monster/Unfiltered/Produced one batch at a time".  So many questions... What the hell kind of beer is in this can?  Why won't they tell me?  "Unfiltered" what?  Why is "OTXBC" spelled out in stars?  I have to have answers.  Too many secrets.

So OTXBC stands for Oasis Texas Brewing Company.  That's an easy one.  Meet, Lake Monster (Unfiltered), a dark, creamy, and outwardly undescribed beer.  There is no notation of ABV, type of beer, flavors, or any other damn thing.  All we learn from the label is that it has single-batched pride, comes in a 16oz can, and finally an ominous warning that "Lake Monster be not for the faint of heart. It pushes the boundaries of the brewers art."  The label has some fancy art bits, paying homage to its titular creature, the spooky night-ness of its referenced genre, some iconic water towers, some Austin bats, a UFO, and general what-nots.  There is a lot of fun in a beer label that wants to be a 50's monster movie.  Doesn't give away much about the beer, though.  It seems all the answers to this mystery can only be found... within.

The first sip of this beer is pretty good stuff.  I have to admit, I wasn't expecting a good beer.  I generally think that a beer that doesn't want to describe its self most likely has a reason to hide (Dr. Doom style shame?).  But it is rich and dark and creamy and smooth.  Oooh, also there are many bubbles.  Really good bubbles.  The only problem I have with this beer is that it's what I would call a "Bar Beer", the kind of beer best enjoyed saddled up to a bar, a jukebox playing, dimly lit, with some god-dammed peanuts!  I cannot fully enjoy a beer like this without some honey-roasted peanuts.  All I have with me are some fantastic, but not quite perfect, sugared peanuts from Singapore, sweet but not salty.  This damn Lake Monster will put its grippy tentacles on you and make you crave sweet salty freedom.  I would be in pure bliss if only my room wasn't as well lit ,my chair not so comfy, and my sweet nuts saltier.

British "people", I have heard, drink their beer at room temperature for a number of reasonable reasons, but I like my beer cold, Hoth cold (I know).  Cold beer is like an unsolicited wink from a sexy stranger, it just makes you feel good.  As darker beers warm up, they give up richer aromas and flavors and I'm two glasses and several degrees warmer into this one.  It is still cooler than room temp, though, (so I'm not British gross or nothin') when player 2 enters the game.  Suddenly nuts.  Well... nuttiness.  After eating a handful of peanuts, I taste a distinct nutty aroma.  I also taste everything one might expect to find in a stout or a porter or a Lake Monster.  It is dark and malty, but instead of the familiar metallic tinge there is a nice alcoholic vapor that lingers in my mouth.  Booze, malt, cream, caramel, and bubbles make this a solid sipper.  

Whatever the ABV of this beer is, it is a heavy hitter.  I'm feeling it at oz 14.  So, go, when you find a moment to slip away, and find a bar that serves this beer.  Sip is quietly and play something good on the jukebox, and think fondly of my sweet (but not salty) nuts.

Atwater Brewery Cherry Stout

Life has thrown me a curve-ball.  My girlfriend's friend went on a diet, so my girlfriend joined in for solidarity, which pretty much means that I have to follow suit.  For the most part, it is not such a bad diet, the food is still good, and I try to take advantage of the chance to be creative with limited ingredients.  Sadly, though,  tacked on to this whole thing is a no-booze clause.  This, of course, is total bullshit.  Why would a sensible adult not imbibe?  Some calories are worth it, in my opinion.  But, all the same, I'm still cutting back on drinking, with exceptions for Thursday drinking with the fellas and my booze blogs.  The upshot of all this boozelessness is that, when I went to pick out a beer today, I was feeling a bit... let's say, thirsty. 

A thirsty man, picking out a beer from an expansive case has a difficult decision to make.  Does one choose something hearty to make up for the absence, maybe a proven style to better the chances of enjoyment, what about that fancy big bottle you've had your eye on?  No, today I picked something small and very questionable, a cherry stout.  What the hell is a cherry stout?  Because if it is exactly what it sounds like, then I'm just going to be cautiously optimistic.  I wonder if I picked a winner.

Atwater Brewery, of Detroit Michigan, produced this "malt beverage with cherry concentrate".  12oz bottle, 6% ABV, dark but a bit thin, fizzy but not foamy.

Detroit has given the world a great many things, the pinnacle of which will always be Robocop, but Atwater Brewery has also been spoken well of.  Now, I like bionic Christ figures as much as the next guy, but I like beer way more than the next guy.  So I tried the cherry stout.  My first impression is that it tastes nothing like cherries or a stout.  That seems like an oversight to me, because if I set out to make a cherry stout, it would really need to taste like a stout with cherry in it.  But what do I know?  I'm just from Texas, where Robocop was filmed.  Suck it, Detroit.

The second glass actually looks more promising.  This pour gave up a solid foamy head that stayed for about half a minute, and the lingering flavors from the first glass have slowly become cherry-chocolate notes. It's subtle carbonation bubbles give off a very yeasty nose, and, even through the allergens there are nice dark malts.  The primary flavor comes from the yeast, followed by the malts, and a whole mess of metallic bubbles.  In fact, if there was a way to make drinking a glass of fuzzy breaded pennies semi-enjoyable, this would be it. There are some cherries that wash past the soft-palate, and the dark chocolaty malts are certainly present.  I guess that is what happens when you add cherry concentrate to a malt beverage.  All the same, "cherry stout"?  Not so much.  A let down.

Detroit, I expected more from you.  You are synonymous with steel and industry, with real American cajones!  This brew is beneath you.  Detroit is better than this.  Sure, you are having some real hard times right now.  Poverty, joblessness, the rancid remains from years of unchecked government corruption.  It must seem so pointless to continue trying, to reach for something better, and to push past the loss of hope.  One of your own, Officer Alex J. Murphy, in spite of impossible odds and facing certain failure still charged ahead and did his best no matter what, even though it cost him is life.  But, like Detroit still might, Officer Murphy rose from the grave stronger, with renewed vigor, and the ability to fuse his lower half with a motorcycle.  I challenge you, Atwater Brewery and Detroiters city-wide, to try again.  Make a cherry stout that doesn't mumble about it's flavors, but instead raises it's voice proudly to the world and says, "I am Detroit!  This is a stout beer and it tastes like it has some cherries in it!"  Please call me when you do.  Until then, this one isn't all that great.

Samuel Smith's Organic Chocolate Stout

Should phrases like "malt beverage with natural flavor added" and "Flavored Beer" be giant warning signs?  Is it right to be a staunch purist and have the Reinheitsgebot tattooed on the back of one's eyelids?  Or, is it better to just enjoy things as they come, to place no limits on what you are willing to draw pleasure from?  Should the word "organic" be banned from my booze cabinet?  This week's beer is a thinking man's beer.

Samuel Smith's Organic Chocolate Stout, or, to quote directly from the label, "Malt Beverage with natural flavor added[.]  Samuel Smith's Brewery (Tadcaster) N. Yorks[.]  1pt. 2.7 fl/oz Product of U.K. 550ml."  A dark brown, modestly thick, kinda frothy beer.  Beer?  Malt beverage?  Bottle of lies and broken promises?

Before I get too tied up with definitions, I will bravely drink a beer.  First impression: that is a very tasty beer.  No bullshit, it's great.  Drinky drinky, gulp gulp.  Go to town folks!  Do you like chocolate?  How about stouts?  Dare I ask about you're interest in chocolate stouts?  Lots of question marks this week.  10 so far.  All the same, first glass: drained it dry with a smile on my face.

It smells like a quality mocha, with wafts of chocolate and coffee with just a touch of violins playing.  The taste is at first light, then the choco goodness bubbles up and starts telling you about the chocolate malt and whispers about banana, yeast, perhaps that familiar metallic tinge.  Like I said, good stuff.  If you put in in your face, you will be happy.

But, dammit, I can't shake this feeling that I need to be offended by something here.  I don't like reading the word "organic" on my beer.  I don't mind that it is organic, but it doesn't seem natural to have it plastered all over the label like it is supposed to be there.  No no no no no.  Better, I think to just leave that shamefully out of sight, like a deformed twin tied up in the attic with a bucket of fish heads for supper.   Also, the question remains as to whether or not this is beer.  There are some strange laws regarding beer labeling.  "Beer", "Ale", "Malt Beverage" all have specific usage definitions totally unrelated to anything in reality.  I could look them up, but, no, screw that.  Sounds like work.  Here is the thing, I like drinking beer, and, while I will usually shy away from an "organic", "malt beverage", or (god forbid) "gluten-free", if I drink one, and it's good... Well, I suppose it is fish heads for me, and that's OK.

Wolf 7 and a bit of a gamble

Wolf 7.  Great name. But, is it better than Wolf 9?  This week we find out.  I will be drinking a bottle of Wolf 7 and (joining me again) Omar will be drinking a bottle of Wolf 9.  As always, I have no experience with the beers before today.  We will only drink our own, I write my review of the 7, he reads it, then he tells me whether his was better than mine or not.  It's about trust, fate, and having a bit of fun!

We selected these two guys off the shelf because they were just sitting there next to each other, identical in almost every way, at first glance.  The label features an en-flagged Belgium with a howling wolf silhouette imposed over it.  But, the borders were different colors.  Why? We asked each other, not yet noticing the mysterious numerals resting in the lower right corner of the labels.  Then we noticed the numerals resting in the lower right corner of the labels.  Seeing the numerals resting in the lower right corner of the labels only deepened the mystery, as there is no explanation of the significance of the number anywhere on the label, and the brown bottle hides any clues that might have been found in the color of the beer inside.  This was a grade-A Scooby mystery, gang!

Wolf 7 (great name!) is brewed in Brouwerij Lupus Belgium, Betekomsesteenweg 76 (not sure what that is), 3200 Aarschot, Belgium.  7.4% ABV, 12.2fl oz bottle.  Golden and reasonably frothy.  Knowing is half the battle.

Glass #1 is yummy.  I like it.  Off the bat, it is not the best beer I have every had, but I could get behind this.  It is light and zesty, with an abundance of flavor molecules, and it goes down without a fight.  Not overtly boozy or obnoxiously hoppy, I find it to be a quality all-around beer.  Sounds good, right?  I'm feeling pretty confident about my pick.  Incidentally, we just picked which one we got at random, and right now I'm thinking I should buy a lottery ticket.  Then again, Omar doesn't look like he's vomiting into his shoes or anything, so maybe I'm celebrating a little early.  That Omar is a crafty bastard.  Crafty as in beer, and bastard as in I question his lineage.  Here ends glass 1.

Before I could pour my second glass, the "tasting" glass, the dog had a wiz to throw (you remember the dog, she's available for rent at a reasonable rate).  Shivering in the back yard watching the dog pee gave me time to reflect on my first glass, to think about its flavors and the experience of drinking it.  I will now masterfully combine those musings with the gentle art of making tasting-face while drinking my second glass.  Scents of citrus and a hint of banana are hand-in-hand with the yeastiness when the foamy head hits me.  This is what smart people have called a "good moment".  The first taste is clean, almost neutral on my tongue, then blossoms into a slightly chewy, cool breeze on a summer's day.  That veers far more to the poetic than I generally like to go, but this beer really takes me some place.  I think this is what Wurstfest in New Braunfels should taste like.  If you haven't been, then your life is incomplete, sad, and worthless, because you have never had the pork chop on a stick while making fun of a guy from Oklahoma and watching (participating in) someone's marriage falling apart.  It is good times.  And the beer... it's OK.  In my mind, however, the beer should taste like this Wolf 7.  It is deep and rich and, I'm going to say, "traditional".  Like one of those really well done German Reinheitsgebot beers, where the flavors come from someone who really really knows what they are doing and assembles a beer that far exceeds the sum of it's parts.  It is a tasty damn beer.

But, what does Omar have to say?  What is the verdict? 7 or 9? Remember 7 of 9 on Star Trek Voyager?  She was super hot, and Janeway was the greatest of all the Star Trek captains, hands down.  That is off topic, let's get back to what is important.  Did I have the better beer?  Over to you Omar...

I can only respond by a simple reply.....as you state "I'm feeling pretty confident about my pick", I will whisper closely in your ear.....no.

Now, for double jeopardy.  Does he dare take the last sip of mine.  Putting his world-wide reputation on the line, and really laying it out there.  Will he taste my beer?  HE WILL!

He was bold and he was brave.  He said to me of the Wolf 9, that there is a reason the Belgian monks carry chocolate in their shorts.  We wait for the sipping, on the edge of our seats...

BUY THE 9