Hitachino Nest Japanese Classic Ale

Brewery: Kiuchi Brewery, Ibaraki, Japan

Style: English IPA

ABV: 7.5%

Rating: 4 stars

80 degrees. Sun. Work done. Aromatic dinner cooking. Wife addressing neglected cleaning.

It'd be hard to get a bum rating tonight. And this one's even been aged in cedar casks...OOH!! D0 they decide to put statements like that on the label thinking the average (or above average) beer drinker will pick up on the cedar aging? I find it hard to detect, but let's find out if I can.

Nice cloudiness to the appearance--like an orange kickball that's been dirtied up for a summer. Strong, persistent head and lacing. Has the looks of a serious, sturdy brew.

Ok. The cedar is apparent in the smell. I would never have pegged it had they not blatantly labeled it so, but they win this battle I guess. There's a richness to the aroma as well; a roundness of yeast, malt and hops that says 'I ain't no Asahi, baby!'

Man, this beer is spicy. First thoughts upon tasting. Not clove or coriander, closer almost to pepper actually. Guess what else is there. Wood. My guess: cedar. Let's offshoot. If wood makes food taste better (planked salmon, etc.) and adds flavor to beer, what else could it improve? Honestly, how often have you been doing something and thought, "you know, a little wood would really set this off." Are we sure this beer's only 7%? I feel like it's taking me farther.

I'm often too cheap to buy more than one of a beer, especially in this case, where at four bucks a pop I wanted to sample as many as I could, but I wish I'd have gotten two of these. Twelve ounces goes by so fast. I wrote that having finished eleven of the twelve, but the twelfth ounce was by far the most intense. Seemingly half of the cedar spice settled at the bottom, and if all of the beer tasted like the last swig, I'd have a lesser opinion. A bitter bludgeon of sting.

With that said, I still enjoyed this immensely, and give it above average marks on both mouthfeel and drinkability on top of the points for uniqueness and its ability to send me into a state where I might use the phrase "planked salmon."

The Best of Late

Been watching too much basketball lately to dedicate time to post. This doesn't mean I've slacked on the consumption. My stash is dwindling, though, and I want to make it last as long as I can, so I've been leaning toward the wines and the liquors more as of late. With that said, I've had some great beers recently, including a well-respected beer that didn't disappoint. Here's a
mini rundown of the best stuff I've had recently.


New Glarus Wisconsin Belgian Red

Brewery: New Glarus, New Glarus, Wisconsin

Style: Fruit Beer

ABV: 5.1%

Rating: 5 Stars


One of the best beers in the Midwest, and certainly the best fruit beer available. I imagined it would be akin to a Belgian kriek-like cherry bomb. Quite wrong I was. New Glarus uses one pound of Wisconsin cherries for each bottle (not your 12 oz. sixer bottle, mind you) and it's evident in the pungent aroma.

I was slightly worried when I realized this wasn't going to be as tart as the sour beers, because I typically loathe cherry-flavored things. In fact, the Sam Adams Cherry Wheat was one of my least favorite beers I tried in 2008. But this cherry was different. It had immense sweetness, but not like a Popsicle or sucker. It was sweet like the gooey inside-the-pie cherries, a real richness that couldn't be faked by synthetic flavoring. There was enough tartness to keep the sweetness at bay, though, and the late sparkle scraped my mouth so that I was ready for another sip.

Kristie and I enjoyed this one together, and it's exciting to me that I now have a better grip on the types of beers she might enjoy. I wish they didn't cost $10 a bottle, but it's exponentially better to enjoy a beer with company.

This beer (and the myriad of other New Glarus crafts) are well worth the 45-minute drive to Wisconsin, and I plan on making semi-regular trips from here on out.


New Glarus Crack'd Wheat

Brewery: New Glarus, New Glarus, Wisconsin

Style: American Pale Wheat Ale

ABV: 5.95%

Rating: 4 Stars


Prior to my whimsical February jaunt to Hudson, I'd had only one New Glarus beer--the infamous Spotted Cow. Thought it was below average and not worthy of the hype I'd heard from my Madison brethren. I had no idea they had as expansive a line of reign-free beers as they do. This one sounded interesting, and both employees said they'd had it and were pleasantly surprised.

It's an interesting idea. It is, basically, a wheat beer. But it's also dry-hopped with amarillo hops. To dry-hop a beer means to introduce hops after the fermentation has begun. It's a way to give the beer an extra hop kick and bring out the characteristics of the specific hops used. It's a pretty common tactic, but this is the first I'd heard about a wheat beer being dry-hopped. Though gimmicky, the idea sounded quite interesting to me, especially because wheat beers generally all get lumped into the same clovey/spicy/orange-peely heap for me.

It tastes exactly how you would imagine. The smell is all spicy wheat, and wheat is obviously the base of the beer. But the amarillo hops kick in toward the middle of each gulp and leave the beer's lasting impression. The beer is bottle-conditioned, another common brewing practice meaning the beer finishes the fermentation process in the bottle. Always a plus, and it usually guarantees a large frothy head, which I happen to enjoy.

Potentially the perfect summer beer, though later tonight I plan to enjoy their Berliner Weiss, which I've heard is phenomenal. Light as a wheat with the bold hops of a pale ale. I foresee many more of these come July.

Stone IPA

Brewery: Stone, Escondido, California

Style: India Pale Ale

ABV: 6.9%

Rating: 4.5 Stars




It's all basically been said about IPAs. We love the citrus, love the dryness, love the hops, love the mouthfeel. This is no different, and it's an excellent representation of the style. I know I've had it in the past, before my tastes were honed, so I wasn't surprised to like it again. Had to go to Wisconsin to get it, which makes no sense to me.

Samichlaus Bier

Brewery: Brewery Castle Eggenberg, Eggenberg, Austria

Style: Doppelbock

ABV: 14%

Rating: 4 stars



No misprint: 14% alcohol. The self-proclaimed 'world's most extraordinary beer' hit shelves again late in 2008 as the world's highest-content lager. So, how do they achieve this insane content level? Well, the beer is brewed once a year on December 6, then fermented slowly over the next ten months. There is a more complicated and technical beer-speak explanation, but just imagine what would happen to any food you kept in the fridge for ten months. You can imagine the strong character it might develop.

Samichlaus is the perfect example that a beer's color has no direct correlation to its strength. You could put this beer next to a Killian's Irish Red and I'd bet it would be difficult to tell the difference. It's a light-deflecting red--remember, it is a lager, not an imperial stout.

I was pleasantly delighted at the aroma. My first sniff yielded a potent alcohol kick, but when I dipped down again, I found many subtle touches. I swear I smelled Greek olives or some kind of vinaigrette, but I could have just been hungry. There was definitely some sparkling white grape, though, and the intense sweetness had some acidic balance to it. Certainly I caught a whiff of caramel.

The taste was pure sweetness, though it took a few minutes to settle in. It's unfair to take one sip and make any proclamations, and this one had me reeling off the bat. Like the aroma, the alcohol kick was substantial--maybe not in the mouth, but going down the throat. It burned like the hard stuff does, and for a second I thought I might need a beer chaser. No matter, I pressed on.

The taste, as I found, improved as the glass emptied. As a skeptic, I must entertain the idea that this was because my level of intoxication was jumping dramatically each time I took a swallow. Did that have something to do with my increasing enjoyment? Maybe, but who cares. If a beer can get me buzzed enough during the course of 11 ounces that I change my opinion of it, doesn't that by definition make it an outstanding beer?

It, for the second half of the glass, tasted like I was drinking liquid caramel. Not the first taste I look for in a beer, but by no means was it unpleasant. You might think that a 14% beer would be borderline undrinkable (think of all the terrible high-content malt beverages out there), but the long fermentation process presumably gives this beer its smoothness. It does have a lingering taste in the mouth that isn't the most friendly, but it makes up for that with a nice warming burn that is welcomed on a winter's day. And the alcohol content was disguised quite well; I've had 8% beers that did worse.

Without question, this was a terrific experience for me. It will go on my mental mantle of beerdom next to the other classics and strange beers I've tried. Not the best beer I've had and not close, but was it the most extraordinary?

No, I guess not.

But I still liked it.

SurlyFest

Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, Minnesota

Style: Rye Beer

ABV: 5.5%

Rating: 4 Stars

This is a first in a series of fall beer dissection. The fall beer season, like the real season, is quite short, and the Oktoberfests and Harvests are quickly giving way to Winter Ales and Holiday brews. I initially thought I'd combine them all into one mega-posting in a sort of report card style. I gave grades and everything. However, the practicality of that quickly evaporated when I realized who was at the computer controlls. I'll do them one at a time. Anyway, about the beer.

A very Surly take on an Oktoberfest. Really, there isn't much of a link between this beer and any other Oktoberfest I've tried. From the cracking of the can, it smells like a Surly--wild hops, and this one's got a spicy rye scent with a bit more malty backbone than the other lighter Surly options.

So how to describe this beer to someone unfamiliar with the Surly scent without using beer jargon. Well, I guess that's something I'll have to work on. Actually, I don't really even know what jargon I'd use here, other than restating that I wouldn't mistake the instant hoppiness for any other brewer. It's certainly not a deep, heavy beer you might associate with fall. It pours a deep orange-red with a obvious presence of carbonation. You don't see a glass of this and think you're in for a throat-coating. You know it's going down less sticky than some of its fall counterparts.

I guess I can admit this; I would have no idea this was considered a rye beer without doing some recon work. Surly is sneaky--they mess around with established styles, but dance far off the floor. This is not an Oktoberfest, and any message board-poster who says it's "a nice and interesting take on the style" is just lying. (I realize I said precisely that just two paragraphs ago. I'm trying to cut back on message board reading.) It smells, tastes and fills your stomach not like a fall beer, but like a summer poolside one. I'm not sure Surly can do it any other way other than to escalate to a fully-fledged stout. I can't complain, because it's that Surly smell I love. Thinking about the smell makes me want one.

Flat Earth Extra Medium

Brewery: Flat Earth, St. Paul, Minnesota

Style: American Wild Ale

ABV: 5.2%

Rating: 4 Stars

So, what exactly is an American Wild Ale, or Sour Ale? I'm not real sure myself, since this was the first one I've ever had. Found it on tap at Buster's on 28th in South Minneapolis, and after having it was so intrigued that I had to research the style and this specific offering. Turns out the information is fairly limited, and unfortunately, pretty jargony.

An American Wild Ale is beer that uses one of three types of wild yeast or bacteria. The style became popular when American brewers tried to recreate traditional Belgian brews called Lambics. Lambics were spontaneously fermented by wild yeast that was only available in a certain region of the country. The result was an unmistakable taste: dry, fruity and very acidic.

This beer fits the bill. The nose (I'll use a wine term because the smell was so...winey) was similar to a sharp, sour cherry cider. Only, the cider has been hiding behind the baking soda in your fridge for a few years. It smells like rank, fermented cider, which is not far off from what it actually is: rank, fermented beer.

The taste, however, was quite pleasant. It sparkled like ginger ale, soured the mouth like a crab apple and filled the mouth with a handful of fruity flavors. If you didn't know it was beer, and it was your first sour ale experience, you might think it was cider, if not for the faint malt presence toward the end of the swallow. The description at Buster's also mentioned a small whiskey presence, and though I wouldn't have noticed it without the forewarning, it was a nice contrast at the back end of the gulp.

The Buster's bio also claimed this beer, of which Flat Earth brewed only three barrels, had a "slight inner city funk" to it. There was definitely funk, but I thought that could be attributed to the wild bacteria. Just me.

If the purpose of this project is to discover and sample every different style of beer available, this was a good step. It's a big leap for a so-called beer lover to admit that fruit has a place in beerdom, and I had been hesitant to accept the large amount of highly-rated lambics on beer message boards. This tasting will help. It may not be the best American Wild Ale out there, and I'm certainly not the one to decide, but it's good enough to make me want to try more.

Surly Smoke

Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, Minnesota

Style: Oak Aged Smoked Baltic Porter

ABV: 9.45%

Rating: 4 Stars

The waitress at the Blue Nile offered us samples of this limited release--the barrel was getting down to the bottom. Had to accept, this one doesn't get bottled and is rarely found in bars.

I'd never had a smoked beer before, let alone one aged in barrels, so this was new territory for me. Kristie, my beer-hating wife, got a sample too, and her off-the-top-of-her-head thoughts are more eloquent than mine: "Smells like you took a glass of Guinness and you lit it on fire, then you licked out the dregs of the ashy glass."

Indeed, it tastes smoky. No carbonation at all in this one, and it had a very nice thin mouthfeel, unlike the Darkness, which I had later. OK, I promised I wouldn't use jargon, but I enjoy the word mouthfeel. Probably doesn't exist in regular conversation. The smoke flavor pretty much overpowers all other flavors, but I thought it was quite sweet in general. I would never had guessed it was 9.5% alcohol, and knowing that now explains why I felt the way I did afterward.

It's probably too late to get your hands on this one, but come next fall, find a beer festival somewhere in the Midwest and chances are Surly will be back with it. It's a unique and enjoyable beer.