Vanilla Stout, Big Muddy Brewing

A common exercise among aficionados of either food or drink is to pick out optimal pairings of the two.  White wine with fish, IPA with Thai, etc…  It’s really the same game brewers play within their recipes.  “Would fuggles work with crystal?  What about centennial with black patent?”  By discussing pairings you get to talk in analytical terms about your meal without having to know every ingredient that goes into each piece (though it does help).  Today’s beer, like any adjunct reliant brew, is a pairing in itself.  Big Muddy’s Vanilla Stout is a combination of, well, vanilla and, well, stout.  The vanilla is pretty straight forward.  We know what that’s gonna taste like.  But will the stout counter it with coffee or dark chocolate?  Either could work, just like multiple pairings for the same dish can be made depending on if you’re complimenting or contrasting the beverage.  Anyway, on to the beer!

Creamy.

Sniff sniff, yep.  There’s vanilla.  Nice creamy head too.  Feels like it could almost form a mustache.  To be alliterative, this beer is very vanilla.  There’s a little bit of coffee, but it’s mostly vanilla, as if you added the french vanilla creamer to french vanilla flavored grinds.  Or maybe it’s more akin to vanilla flavored soft drinks.  Now that I think of it, the nose gives that impression.  The mouthfeel leaves a sweet coating reminiscent of root beer.  It has its merits but I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to get it.  Though I am a guy who, given a blind choice between chianti and pinot noir, will always go with the chianti.  If you’re into sweets like caribbean rum drinks, it may be right up your alley.

Big Muddy Vanilla Stout doesn’t strike a perfect pairing between its own component parts.  The vanilla overpowers the rest in an act of ruthless domination.  But how did it do with dinner?

Quesadillas!

Definitely went with contrasting tonight.  The jalapeños and tapatio work to clear out the sinuses so you can taste every little detail.  The stout shoots back by relieving the heat.  The eggs help ward off hangovers.  Everybody gets along in a meal brought to you by random chance.  Pairings are a lot of fun and can add quite a bit to your culinary enjoyment, but you’ll still be happy if you eat and drink whatever you want at the time.

The Poet, New Holland Brewing Company

Today’s beer has in a roundabout way gotten me thinking about heaven.  It’s called The Poet and its label is a raven in the night.  A pretty clear allusion to Edgar Allen Poe’s poem named after the bird.  From my reading of it, the crux of the work comes in two stanzas near the end.

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -

On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

In the first stanza the narrator learns that his ceaseless mourning has deprived him of the promise of heaven.  Worse yet, in the second stanza he learns that he’s also lost heaven for his beloved Lenore as well.  If heaven had never existed, the raven would have said “no,” but it pretty consistently sticks to “nevermore,” pinning the blame on the bereaved lover.  It’s all kinda giving me second thoughts about drinking New Holland’s Poet, but it is an oatmeal stout.  Also beer.

Bubbly bubbly head.

The second thing I noticed about the label was that the moon is upside down!  The basalt lava plains mostly occupy the northern hemisphere of the near side, duh!  I’ll just focus on the glass.  This looks pretty darn good.  The aroma hits me with lots of milk chocolate.  The crystal malt brings the sweet feeling of smugly enjoying esoteric poetry.  It ties a rope around your waste and keeps you from losing yourself in the deep, dark abyss of the chocolate malt.  Each sip is a tightly controlled descent into the enveloping unknown while always tethered to safety.  Subsequent visits to the aroma as the beer scurries down the glass reveal the hop notes hidden in the 37 IBUs.  This is squarely a tasty beverage.  Even the tactile senses of the mouth get to revel in it’s velvety smooth texture.  No banishment from celestial existence here!

Poe was not at all the only poet to muse over the concept of heaven.  I recently encountered End of the West where Michael Dickman describes a quasi “What Dreams May Come” image where heaven is whatever you want.  The last page of his Wang Wei: Bamboo Grove reads,

You know

how we are going

to disappear

into the dirt forever

Or burn

into the sky

into oceans

Well, I love this about us

and I want to be able to do it

all by myself

It won’t be scary

or cold

Not like what they told us at all

If the are spiders

and there will be

spiders

they will not kill us

in our

New Cities

In the next poem, End of the West, he goes on to describe four of these “New Cities.”  Each one a personal heaven for a loved one and one for himself.  We all get a heaven that we construct through our experiences and desires.  Or maybe it’s even closer than that.  In a more straightforward way, Helen Lowrie Marshall wrote,

Heaven’s not a fenced-off place

In some far distant sky,

Nor is Eternity consigned

To some sweet by-and-by.

Heaven lies in every

Ordinary, common day.

We make our own Eternal life

Each step along our way.

Eternal time is measured

By a common hourglass.

We glimpse a bit of Heaven

As hours and minutes pass.

We only need the eyes to see.

The heart to count its worth,

To make our own Eternity

A Heaven here on Earth!

Three different poems from three very different directions that all have one thing in common.  They all paint an intrinsic link between the here and now and heaven.  Whether it’s Poe’s heaven that can be brought in and out of existence by our commitment to living, Dickman’s heaven that is formed by our life before death or Marshall’s heaven that is this present life, the onus is on us.  Heaven will not just come scoop us up one day.  We have to take charge of it.  Man!  I should start wearing floaties before reading poetry because it is getting deep!  Beer is such a small thing, insignificant when compared to the fundamental workings of the universe.  But I for one think it’s not a terrible place to start.  Even if it doesn’t know what direction the moon goes.  Cheers!

Satin Solitude, Central Waters Brewing Company

Today’s beer comes from a brewery that strives to be green.  Central Waters Brewing Company sources most of their ingredients from local producers, going as far as founding a coop to meet demand.  They’ve switched to efficient light bulbs with motion sensors to automatically turn off when no one’s there.  They’ve even installed solar arrays to heat their water and provide 20% of their electricity.  I wouldn’t be surprised to find Jimmy Carter wandering the brewhouse in his signature cardigan turning down all the thermostats.  While green politics were unable to take root in the 1970s U.S., businesses like Central Waters are picking up the fight.  A local brewpub owner once ticked through a plethora of green techniques and policies he had in place despite having only one location at the time.  So much for the “environmentalism kills small business” trope.  Anyway, lets move on to the beer.  We can determine if the focus on greening has taken their eye off the ball.  I give you Satin Solitude.

So satiny.  So alone.

As the beer exits the bottle and falls through the air it looks brown, but once it has settled into its new home it is pretty darn close to black.  Good.  I like the dark ones.  The aroma hints this may go coffee on me but doesn’t assure it.  My tongue is a bit more confident.  The coffee notes do not dominate the game, leaving room for others like cream and small doses of carbon.  I can kind of see where the Satin in the name comes from.  The mouthfeel masks the alcohol bite so that this 7.5% stout feels not a point over, say, 6.8%.  Small change but noticeable nonetheless.  Other reviewers have mentioned this beer is a bit thin for an imperial stout.  I wouldn’t say that.  Not every stout is Old Rasputin.  Get over it.  Always remember that each beer style contains a diverse set of brews.  Satin Solitude takes a slightly less bombastic approach and rocks it.  So what if it’s not as thick?  If I want a second one, I can have it.  Try drinking multiples of the far end of the imperial stout spectrum.  I find assessing beers by their own merits leads to more enjoyable drinking.

Well, for Central Water Brewing Company at least, a focus on being green has definitely not detracted from the quality of the tipple.  Perhaps they can serve as an inspiration for us all.  Maybe we can reduce our carbon footprint without reducing our standard of living after all.  If the beer is good we might not mind even if we did have to sacrifice a few luxuries.  Here’s to good environmental stewardship and good beer!  Can we have both?

Si se puede!

Lilja's Sasquatch Stout, Pangea Brewing Company

We’ve all heard the phrase “don’t judge a book by its cover.”  Many of us have also heard the common rebuttal, “That’s what the cover is for!  It tells me what’s in the book so I can decide whether or not I want to read it!”  Even if you’re not familiar with the counter-argument, chances are that’s how you effectively live.  You try not to judge unduly, while defining “duly” however you want.  Case in point, what is your immediate reaction to this beer label?

Graphic designers may want to shield their eyes.

Okay, first off, what’s with the water level Super Nintendo Donkey Kong?  Is he throwing a glass of beer at me?  Why is it in a different font than the rest of the bottle?  Green eyes.  Black finger and toe nails.  Three tag lines?  What is this Monty Python’s “Penultimate Supper?”  You can’t see it in this picture, but the top right corner holds the words “ylnevaeh spoh.”  Sounds Russian, right?  Nope.  Spoiler Alert, it’s heavenly hops backwards.  Surely people who think this label is good can have no taste of beer, right?  Wrong.  This hokey cover delivers Lilja’s Sasquatch Stout, which is actually quite good.

Small head, perhaps from the high ABV.

Talk about a dark beer.  You have to work pretty hard to find the red tones on the edges of every stout’s glass.  Turning, raising, searching.  The aroma is really smooth and inviting even though the imagery that comes to my mind is over-ripe fruit and wet fur.  Kind of like how haggis smells and tastes like dog food yet still manages to be quite good.  It only takes a second to place this stout in the coffee camp, but it’s not being served black.  That smoothness from the aroma returns to build a milk stout mouthfeel even though this bigfoot has no lactose added.  Overall, very satisfying and much better than the odd label leads you to believe.

After taking a look at their website, I have to say that label isn’t really all that surprising.  The page for Lilja’s Sasquatch Stout is home to four whole well-written paragraphs about sasquatch, tying it back to the beer only by insinuating a six pack of the stuff will keep you safe from a six foot tall, four hundred pound hominid.  The ingredients list claims to use a hop variety that is also a class of primate. No problem, I can google "simian hops" and find out what they are, right?

Or maybe not...

Not to worry though, it wraps up with a picture of a transgender bovine with spots shaped like the continents.  I don’t know if they’re rich enough to be called eccentric or if they just fall into the crazy category but whatever they are, their beer is delicious!

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!

Dragon's Milk, New Holland Brewing Company

Today’s beer comes from New Holland Brewing Company, which is based in Holland Michigan.  This city has another, more hidden claim to fame in that all those WWJD bracelets you saw in the 90s got their start here.  I want to point out that “Holland,” even though many people treat it as a synonym of “The Netherlands,” is actually only one region in that country.  Using those terms interchangeably is kind of like calling Massachusetts “Boston” or Iceland “Reykjavik.”  Anyway, the brewery this city in Michigan houses brews a stout called Dragon’s Milk.

Wow, that's dark!

That, is a dark beer.  It doesn’t produce a huge head, but what head it does have is thick and creamy.  You smell a lot of charred malt, but not in an overly harsh way.  It entices you with the promise of being a stout that won’t hurt you.  This promise is tested when you sip.  The first word that comes to mind is “bam,” with all the imagery of Emeril Lagasse throwing a handful of garlic into a flaming pan attached.  The dark, roasty flavors make themselves known along side a prominent 10% ABV.  But that’s not the whole story.  The assault doesn’t continue after that initial burst.  It’s like someone who comes off as crass and ill mannered but turns out to be a nice guy with lots of interesting things to say.  This anti-judgement lesson goes even further when you take into account my second pour.

Hmm...  Something's different...

After warming up a bit, a much larger head was drawn from the bottle, leading to a denser smellscape.  Not necessarily more aromas, but it’s a lot easier to smell them.  Back to that taste, though.  Even though the alcohol and sharp char hit you pretty hard, they get out of the way and let you enjoy your beer, resulting in an overall experience that is not harsh at all.  I’ve mentioned before that most stouts either lean more towards dark chocolate or black coffee.  Dragon’s Milk sidesteps these two by putting the emphasis on malts that taste dark themselves rather than like other dark things.  The clone recipe that’s been floating around for several years now includes crystal malts at 80 and 120 lovibond.  To put that in perspective for non brewers, the first chart on this web page categorizes anything greater than 25L in the “start of full black” segment.  That’s even before you add in the chocolate malt, which clocks in around 350L!

Overall, Dragon’s Milk is a fantastic beer.  It illustrates quite clearly the paradox between the burnt flavors and unfermentable sugars of the darker malts.  (Although that clone recipe does include flaked oats and wheat malt that could be adding some enticement...)  Last week I spent some time musing on beers possibly representing a certain political personality and that was a lot of fun.  Dragon’s Milk brings a certain person to my mind and that would be Mitch Mahoney.  Yes, the scary comfort counselor who escorts the eliminated contestants from the 25th annual Putnam County spelling bee stage.  He may be an ex-convict clocking community service hours, but his heart is in the right place as he tries to help the kids deal with their loss.  Dragon’s Milk may not be a wheat beer, but it strives to comfort you with smooth encouragement even though it comes from a rough style.  That makes it all the more touching.

Oatmeal Stout, Gray's Tied House

A few days ago I tried a beer from Janesville, the hometown of Paul Ryan, and compared it to the man himself.  There quite clearly was no match of character between them, but today this city in Wisconsin gets another shot at brewing a match for its famous politician.  Gray’s Tied House is swinging again with its Oatmeal Stout.  Looking ahead to other drinkers’ reviews raises hopes in the vast differences in opinion.  Most people appear to have very good or very bad things to say with not much left over for the middle.  That sounds familiar.  However, those who don’t like it claim it to be too weak or thin.  That doesn’t much sound like the man running for VP.  Oh well, time to test it with the tongue.

It's also black.  Ryan is not black.

The head may be thin but the oatmeal stout aroma is all there.  Coffee notes hit your nose, but don’t assault you.  A lot of people mention milk chocolate rather than the usual dark chocolate associated with stouts.  This might come more from the mouthfeel than the actual flavors.  A lack of alcohol bite and a viscosity that delivers only slight chewiness allow this beer to charm its way through your mouth.  Stronger, creamier oatmeal stouts would forcibly thrust themselves upon your senses and then coat you with a heavy layer of “I’m not going anywhere!”  You actually feel like you could drink this while eating food and not miss out on either one.  I must say I agree more with those on the positive side than the negative, but I understand the nay-sayers.  To them it is a small beer, incapable of offending anyone.  Alternatively, you could see it as a courteous beer, dulling its sharpest points so as not to hurt anyone.

Good Guy Beer

Gray’s Oatmeal Stout comes a lot closer to Ryan than Bully Porter.  There is more strength in the flavor profile and a mere whiff of its style-specific aromas can turn off some drinkers.  The very dark, almost black color fits perfectly with his chosen talking points.  Economics isn’t called the “dismal science” for nothing!  But there are a few key differences.  When you drink Gray’s Oatmeal Stout, you feel happy and comfortable, like the liquid in your glass is there solely to help you live life.  That does not at all sound like the faux libertarian Tea Party.  This beer is Ryan if he were less forceful and more apt to compromise.  It certainly helped the beer, it certainly would help Ryan.  That is, assuming there are others in congress willing to do the same.

Milk Stout, Left Hand Brewing Company

In case the name didn’t give it away, today’s beer is a milk stout.  Now the idea of putting milk in beer may sound gross and probably conjures up images of Irish car bombs curdling in the hands of under-dedicated chuggers.  Don’t worry.  That’s not what “milk stout” means.  It means lactose, an unfermentable sugar found in milk, was added in the brewing process.  The biggest effect it has on the finished product is in the mouthfeel rather than the flavor.  True to the image of milk, it imparts a smoothness often missing from dark, British ales.  So you’re left with a stout that feels like a really heavy hefe.  Left Hand Brewing’s Milk Stout does a very good job representing the positives of this interesting style.

A bit weak on the head.
Oh darn, I guess I'll have to have another!

Chocolate.  Big chocolate.  In fact, the far-from-puny coffee notes seem to strengthen the chocolate rather than stand alone.  Come to think of it, that label does look a lot like something Willy Wonka would have designed...  If the job of the aroma is to get you excited about the sip, this beer’s smell is getting a fat performance bonus.  When it reaches your tongue, a wave of dark, roasty, woody flavors temper the initial chocolate impression registered by your nose.  This is a stout for sure.  But of course this is a milk stout, so the mouthfeel is smoothed accordingly.  Instead of letting you know when you’re drinking too quickly, Left Hand Milk Stout’s velvety presence leaves that job entirely to the heaviness of the beer.  That means listen to your stomach if you’re not in a hurry to load up!  Overall, this is a very solid beer.  If you are craving the flavors of a stout but don’t feel like dealing with the sharp dryness, pick up one of these and relax.  Maybe you can think of it as a stout for the summer.

On a side note, I saw a review for this beer that declared it sessionable.  Do not listen to anyone who says that.  As I have discussed in earlier posts, these people don’t know what they’re talking about.  Do not session this beer!  Besides, who would want to possibly have to rush a milk stout?