Old Rasputin, North Coast Brewing Company

Right before fetching today’s beer from the basement, I paid a visit to the bathroom and had an interesting experience.  As I was preparing to take my place on the porcelain throne, I was startled by a very loud, very heavy, very sudden thud that shook away my sense of physical security like a dog throwing water off its coat.  Its power was made all the more ominous by a peculiar hollowness that belied some empty cavern seeking its fill.  The juxtaposition of vicious ferocity and a complete lack of satiety is possibly one of the most frightening combinations imaginable, harkening back to our days avoiding predators in the savannah.  Any sense of joy or contentment with the world drained from my chest, through my midsection and out my pores leaving only dread.  I turned to see what calamitous horror awaited me and faced the source directly.  Right after I had lifted the toilet seat, it had fallen shut.  As quickly as the rush of fear beset me, it dissipated and the words tumbled out of my mouth, “Don’t do that!” as if the toilet seat were able to comprehend my impassioned plea.

So terrifying!

We’ve all experienced those moments when something simple and benign suddenly leads to a totally irrational fear for your life.  This happens at a much slower pace in history as well.  A notable example is Grigory Rasputin, whose stylized story can be found here (the third to last paragraph contains the most famous story, his assassination).  People attribute great power, both political and supernatural, to the “mad monk” and declare him to be evil.  In reality, he was probably just an exceedingly quirky guy whose legend grew from his proximity to the tsar.  North Coast Brewing Company taps into the legend with its Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout.

Peaking out above the brim, are we?

An incredibly dark beer with a very thick head.  Stouts have a tendency to build their bubbly tops belatedly and this one was true to form, continuing to grow for almost a full minute.  That foamy cap itself is a delicacy full of hoppy bitterness and a cappuccino-like mouthfeel.  The aroma alerts you to the roastiness of dark malts and the sweetness of the large base malt component but doesn’t really prepare you for what is to come.  I’ve developed a reputation as the beer guy (I’m sure many of you have too) so I get honor of hearing a description of their reaction whenever someone I know tries it for the first time.  A common refrain is, “I wasn’t ready!  Emotionally, mentally, physically...”  Old Rasputin goes for the coffee, then follows it up with the IBUs of a solid IPA.  However, once you get past the sting of bitterness you realize it’s just a really big, really tasty beer.  As simple as that.  In fiction writing, you’re supposed to leave the reader wanting more.  That must not be the case with brewing because you are at peace with your drinking after 12-16 ounces of this beer.  Maybe if you’re 250 lbs or Irish you can keep going, but most everybody else should feel pretty satisfied.

One last interesting tidbit about Old Rasputin.  It is brought to you by a Californian brewery recreating a style made in England for the Russian tsarist court.  This beer has come a long way to get to you.  You should make the trek from wherever your palette naturally predisposes you to try it honestly.  I know it can be initially shocking, but if you can just calm your tongue’s fear and finish your glass knowing everything will be okay, it will be a rewarding experience.  Good luck!