I forgot

Pike “Auld Acquaintance Happy Holiday Ale” (Washington) – Solid and heavy, as befits the genre, with some spicy/metallic/preserved lemon stuff going on. Very linear. (11/11)

Chimay, Chimay, cocoa bop

Chimay Trappist Ale “Grandes Réserve” (Belgium) – This was purchased in 2008, but unless “LAN-662” is the lot number (and it may be) I have no way to know exactly what release it was. And unlike many of my beer aging experiments, this was one was a resounding success. Richer, darker, and more complex than at release (and it’s a pretty excellent beer even then), with more of its aromatics inhabiting the coffee, molasses, and chocolate realms. Yet it’s not sweeter. In fact, the opposite, as if its asymptote is amaro rather than that suggested by the sweet-ish aromas. I love this, and will promptly stash more in the cellar..(11/11)

David

Duvel 2009 Golden Ale (Belgium) – A beer aging experiment. This didn’t fail like some have, but it didn’t lead to much reward either: the beer is more lemon-dominated than its richer youth, and more about frothy yeastiness than much in the way of gained complexity. To make a wine analogy, aging it more or less turned a decent Champagne into a good Prosecco. (11/11)

At the hop

Harpoon “100 Barrel Series” Czech Hop Harvest Ale “Dočesná” (Vermont) – Aggressive in multiple ways: richly-hopped (but not one of those hop-overwhelmed extremities, by any means), chipped metal and wood aromas, and physically impossible to ignore. It is, perhaps, a bit more than I was expecting, but I’ll chalk that up to my expectations rather than an inherent flaw in the ale. All that said, it remains aggressive. (10/11)

Take three

Unibroue 2006 “Trois Pistoles” (Québec) – Overly-succulent, sweet, almost candied (in a licorice sort of fashion), and yet good. Worth aging? No. The froth is no longer integrated, and everything seems like it’s on the verge of collapse. (10/11)

High sahtea

Dogfish Head “Sahtea” (Delaware) – Ale with juniper berries and black chai. And I drink it full of amusement at the number of times I’m asked, rather out of the blue while browsing any craft beer aisle, what I think of Dogfish Head. Because this pretty much encapsulates my answer: they can be extraordinary, they can be awful, I love the iconoclasm, but I’m not sure a good portion of what they make is actually beer. (Except, of course, in the most basic form of the definition: the base alcohol on which the product is built.) That is to say: some of what I like…and hate…is based on the premise that I, the consumer, don’t actually want one of the many variations on beer, but that I want whatever the thing is that Dogfish Head has bottled. In this, I think it’s like a chinato or a vermouth from the wine world…yes: wine, technically, and yet not “wine” as a drinker would conceive of it when choosing between it and another beverage.

So this is chai, first and foremost, with a little bit of beery froth. I’m not the juniper berries add an obviously separable character, but on the other hand their high-toned, patently gin-like treble does make itself gently but persistently known…though without knowing the source, the sensation (rather than the actual aroma) is not entirely unlike that of slightly oversteeped tea. This is really excellent, but “beer” it is pretty much not. That’s OK, though.

(9/11)

Dogfish Head Punkin Ale (Delware) – One of my favorite pumpkin ales, though a little of such brews goes a long way, and I’m glad it’s a purely seasonal dalliance. Most lean rather heavily and overtly on lush stews of baking spices, and while I can appreciate those if done with “restraint” (the term barely applies to these lavish displays of additive brewology), this is something a little purer: it really does taste of both pumpkin and beer, melded and confident, with the minor vegetal bitterness of the former and the grain of the latter. (9/11)

Emelisse list

Emelisse Rauchbier (Netherlands) – Probably the most elegant rauchbier I’ve ever tasted; more beer than smoke, yet just enough of the latter to make the style unmistakable. I quite like it, and unless most in the genre I have no trouble drinking more than half a normal-sized bottle. (10/11)

Beanbeer

Long Trail “Brewmaster Series” Coffee Stout (Vermont) – Yes, coffee. Yes, stout. A good melding of two worthy beverages, perhaps a little heavier on the coffee than is the norm for these brews. It’s my sense that, whenever a traditional added-flavor beer style is attempted by domestic breweries, there’s more of that addition than is typical for the traditional referent. It’s true here, but while I often find the excessive flavoring bothersome or intrusive, in this case I actually prefer it to the stoutier version it mimics. It’s not very “serious,” but it’s most definitely enjoyable. (8/11)

Big & beige

Harpoon “100 Barrel Series” “Rich & Dan’s” Rye IPA (Vermont) – Yes, OK, there’s the grainy undertone of rye that I like so much in spirits. But here, it’s just not enough of a major player in the final product, which is heavy, a little bitter, and quite a bit blockheaded. I’ve been a big fan of many releases in this series, but I fear the last few have lost their way. (7/11)

Hiver one or the other

Dieu du Ciel! “Solstice d’hiver” (Québec) – Way, way, way back in college, I discovered that there were beers other than the mass-market dreck I’d…um, seen other people drink in high school, but of course wouldn’t myself because that would have been wrong. Ahem. Anyway, one thing led to another, and after college I was much entertained by bars with over a hundred taps and 400 bottles of the world’s many expressions and variations on beer. I remember the seemingly innumerable styles I liked right away, but I also remember the first exotic brew I hated: a burnt toffee-like concoction, syrupy and balsamic, that I learned was a Christmastime specialty of the brewery in question. Since then, I’ve learned that while I can appreciate light-toned winter ales (Long Trail’s version provided many, many cases of happiness), the dark, Euro-historical versions are just too much for me. This isn’t nearly as dense as that first dark-hearted monster, but it’s more than I can enjoy: sticky, a little charred, syrupy without letup. And yet, hollow and thin. Yes, that’s quite an accomplishment. I go on at this length to say that I’m perfectly willing to accept that this is much more about me than it is about the brew’s qualities, which might be more appreciated by others. (9/11)

Poplar music

White Birch “Indulgence” Ale (New Hampshire) – A lighter, crisper stout style, and really pretty fabulous. White Birch is, for me, a very inconsistent brewer, so the next batch may be wildly different. But this is very, very nicely done. (6/11)

White Birch Dubbel Belgian Style Ale (New Hampshire) – All work and no play makes this a dull ale. (6/11)

White Birch Tripel Belgian Style Ale (New Hampshire) – An immediate quintupling of force, alcohol, sweetness, and stickiness vs. the dubbel from the same brewery, and it’s almost too much. Yet it’s papered over, withheld from its fullest expression, and while that prevents too-muchness, it leaves the beer a little less than what it could be. (6/11)

White Birch Belgian Style Ale Quad (New Hampshire) – Heavy, of course, with a sweet maple adhesion that somewhat overwhelms the ale. No real surprise in that; quad is a high-wire act to begin with, and not a few people believe it just can’t be done with any result other than spectacle. Good in small quantities, tiresome beyond that. (6/11)

A loaf of wheat, a jug of wine, and wow

Smuttynose “Big Beer Series” Wheat Wine Ale (New Hampshire) – A sticky toffee pudding of a beer (or “beer”), though it’s more grain-like than sweet. I think I’d like this more were it part of Smuttynose’s “Very Small Beer Series,” because a large bottle of it is a lot to take.(7/11)

Do you Monde?

Unibroue 2006 “La Fin du Monde” (Québec) – Dying. Flattening. There was no point in aging this beer this long, despite the suggestion that it would reward same. (5/11)

Oblada

Sierra Nevada/Abbey of New Clairvaux “Ovila” Saison (California) – Nice. Fresh with spicy complexity but not too much weight. Just a touch fruity. I like it a lot. (8/11)

Solid rock

Trappistes Rochefort Belgian Ale 6 (Belgium) – Blocky and straightforward. A Trappist ale done strictly by the numbers and to the specification. That is to say, there’s not much joy in it, despite its precisely-described identity. (9/11)

Trappistes Rochefort Belgian Ale 8 (Belgium) – Now this is more like it. Or, rather, absolutely, precisely, exactingly “like it.” Which is to say: absolutely textbook, spice and weight and metallic glistenings. But not more than that, either. It is a Trappist ale in its essentials, done with an excess of competency, and lacking the artistry to paint outside the lines. (9/11)

Almost famous

DOG Brewing “Stillwater Artisanal” American Farmhouse Ale “Débutante” (Maryland) – Brewed with spelt and rye, flavored with honeysuckle, heather, and hyssop. And while this jumble of influences and confluences offers a lot to consider, ultimately the result is somewhat meandering…diffuse without being dilute. There’s some textural richness, some dried-citrus chew, some spice. That’s really about it. (9/11)

Helino

Victory “Helios” Ale (Pennsylvania) – In the back label text, they call this a Belgian farmhouse style. I’d call it a merging of pale American ale with hints of the claimed designation. It’s thin, it’s vaguely spicy, it’s not much more than momentarily diverting. (9/11)

Oude to a Grecian urn

Hanssens “Oude” Kriek Lambic (Belgium) – Oh, yes. Beautifully tart, but not so iconoclastically acidic that it becomes an Olympic-level challenge to struggle through. Here I suppose I reveal my long-time struggle with the Cantillon style, in which I have to warm up like a beer athlete to deal with the fierce lash of puckering sourness, and which even with said warmup I don’t always warm to. This is less aggressive, and maybe it’s less authentic as a result, but it’s far more to my liking. (9/10)

Old Manhattan

New Holland “Pilgrim’s Dole” Wheat Wine (Michigan) – A barley wine-style brew made, as the name indicates, with wheat. And – here’s a warning – a beverage for those who think barley wines are watery and light. Holy crap is this dense! Nearly opaque, as well. Comes as near as I’d want to drinking pure molasses (without the sugar). It’s fascinating, frankly, but I don’t think I’ll ever want this much of it again. Stylistically, it’s closer to the old Seppelt “Para Port” Liqueur wines than it is any beer of my acquaintance. Worth the experience, at least. (9/10)

Molecular brewology

Two Brothers “Atom Smasher” Oktoberfest Style Lager (Illinois) – Heavy. Good heavy, but heavy nonetheless. I’ll admit that no matter the tradition, this is the sort of style I always feel is (or at least should be) implied by the autumnal name, but is rarely delivered by most beers of similar designation. Weighty, somewhat bitter, somewhat refreshing, and definitely seasonal; one can almost taste the leaves crunching underfoot. Molten rocks. Definitely leaves an impression. (9/10)