Beer Blotter

Spooky Good

***Notes of a Beer Nerd is a column written by resident cellar dwelling mammal, Timperial Stout. Feel free to e-mail him at timperial@beerblotter.com with any questions, concerns or comments***

Enjoyed on 9/25/2011

Brewery: New Belgium Brewing

Location: Fort Collins, CO

Beer: Kick

Web: http://www.newbelgium.com/

Presentation: 22oz. – Blown Glass Bottle – Capped.

Vintage: 2011

Style: Sour Pumpkin Ale

Barrel: Blended with beer aged on oak

ABV: 8.5%

IBU: 14

Hops: Target

Malt: Pale, Carapils

Vessel: Tulip

Recommended Serving Temp: 50 degrees

Commercial Description:

New Belgium and Elysian are together again with Kick, a rich and tart pumpkin cranberry ale blended with wood-aged beer for a uniquely complex harvest season sour. The russet and orange of autumn shimmer through a slight haze like sunlight through the smoke from burning leaves. The taste and texture of pumpkin give way to the refreshing tang of cranberries and critters, satisfying and exciting with each swallow, finishing with an urge for more.

Kim brought sour from New Belgium; Dick brought pumpkin from Elysian. You’ll get a Kick out of their collaboration.

Food Pairings: Turkey, Salad, Pie

Cheese Pairings: Brie, Gouda

Music Pairing: Bvdub – I Remember (Translation of moerketid)

Beer Advocate: B+ (3.78)

Rate Beer: 94 (3.51)

From Timperial Stout:

If you read my last NoaBN post you know that I regretfully shat on a New Belgium beer.  I have an outrageous amount of respect and love for NBB and their staff.  I figured that I would write a review of their other very new edition to the Lips of Faith series because it’s fucking amazing and maybe, through doing so, I’d feel a bit better about myself (even though Todd already said that he liked my review despite it’s less that glowing result).  So here it is.  Get this beer while you can.  You will not regret it.

Also, oddly, it came to my attention earlier today that one For Whom the Beer Toales was enjoying this very beer today as well from her home in the windy city.  Even more strange, we both, almost simultaneously, suggested that we collaborate on the review.  The funny thing about that is that Ms. Erin Toale is an expert at succinctness, where I am very, very much not (as I’m sure you are painfully aware).  So, with that being said, I first offer you her thoughts, and then I offer mine in the fashion that you have come to know.  As a quick side note, amidst all of this strange phenomenon, Erin and I made plans to formulate some sort of recurring column in which we both drink the same beers at the same time (in our respective cities) and review them at the same time as we progressively slip deeper into an inebriated state.  I see time stamps and ridiculous commentary being signatures of this project.  Something to look forward to perhaps.

For Whom the Beer Toales: Avoiding Responsibility or “What Was I Thinking?” (That Time My Fiancé Went to Oktoberfest Without Me and I Exacted Revenge by Drinking Too Much) 

Have you ever been so hungover that your tongue hurts? It just feels like this lump of sad, foreign matter in your mouth? That’s where I am, today, folks. I woke up this morning (afternoon) and I knew there was only one way to make it through the day. Keep drinking.

I went to Binnys last week to get some Autumnal brews. Fall is, by far, my favorite season for beers. Maple! Pumpkin! Spices! Hoodies! (not a flavor, but still relevant.) On that note: KICK! (Aside, what the crap New Belgium has such an amazing website! Our site runs on windpower… ADORABLE.)

I am SUCH a New Belgium fanboy. Environmentally friendly, female CEO, FUCKING AMAZING BEER!! I LOVE YOU NB! This latest collaboration with Elysian is described as a session sour. I couldn’t have said it better myself. I  am picky about sours – I require moderation of funk. (I get heartburn, ok?) Kick is fruity in the front with a pleasant sour after-pucker and not overly sweet. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon on the couch with dogs and Clash of Kings. What, jealous?

Back to Timperial:

Appearance.

I had a sense that the “wild” nature of this beer would cause it to be highly carbonated but a soft pour evoked a not all that abnormal rise in foam.  That foam ended up being stark white and consisted of tightly packed, small bubbles with some larger blow-outs resting on top.  As the head settled, some very impressive lacing was left on the inside of the glass.  The use of Carapils seems to have paid dividends.  The white crown is evidently content existing as a ring and wisp atop the brew and is regularly fed by an impressive precipitation of carbon dioxide escaping from the lower recesses of the glass.  It’s like watching an autumnal rain shower while hanging upside down on a hammock.  I’m comfy.

The fluid itself is a brightly glowing, orange tinged amber and when held to the light it appears quite clear.  From all outward appearances, this beer has no lack of sex appeal.  Like a bird of paradise, it has flaunted it’s feathers and I have surrendered to it’s brilliance.

Odor.

The head rise may not have indicated a principle wildness but the scent certainly does.  A tart, sourness can be perceived well before the nose reaches the rim of the glass.  It’s potent.  It has a very wood aged and Brett spiked notion to it from my perspective.  There is a lot of earthiness involved.  Damp log is the best way that I can think to describe that particular aspect of the nose.  But there is so much more.

The scent seemed to just fire out of the glass and penetrate my nose deeply.  There is an effervescence that inspires thoughts of crystalline citrus candy shards propelled from a canon.  I know that it’s cranberry at play but I feel as though it is sensed as being more like blood orange.  Both acidity and perfectly ripened sweetness mingle with the oak and it’s like discovering a wood hewn cornucopia full of fruity desires after being island stranded for far too long without food.  Near elation.

It takes some concentration to find the subtle squash within all the potency of jarring tartness and stunning fruitiness, but it can be unearthed.  Obviously, this beer is not like many other beers.  As such, the phenolics come in abnormal forms.  It is very hard to tell where the spiciness originates.  Is it the wild yeasts, the sour fruit…pumpkin spice?  This may just be the true brilliance of this recipe.

Mouthfeel.

Though it would be insane of me to dub this the best part of the beer, it’s a mandatory mention that the mouthfeel of Kick is absolutely world class. It’s crazy smooth but not thick and there is plenty of bubbly.  It coats the mouth with a protective film that hugs you in all the right places and spurs you just enough to elicit a stimulation, not a coma coaxing of the pleasure receptors.  It’s just right and I want it to stay almost more than I want it to go down and warm my innards.

Flavor.

I find it a challenge to describe the flavor of a sour beer.  In most cases, it can be described as sour and that’s about it.  I get most of the fruit or graininess (or whatever the case may be) from sours in the aftertaste.  This makes sense to me because tartness has a tendency to seize up the tongue.  It’s almost like a paralyzing effect is incited after the immediate knee jerk reaction of intense puckering.  Tartness causes involuntary reactions on a small scale.  This is where a lot of the pleasure comes from, I think, when dealing with this style.  It allows us to toy with a part of our body that is rarely toyed with.  We could snack on a bag of sour patch kids, but who wants to deal with the tongue and mouth abrasions that coincide with that venture?  Here, our only after effect is a calming buzz.

Still, I must make an attempt.  Honestly, the cranberry taste really does come through quite strongly.  It’s a flavor packed fruit.  Cranberry juice, straight up, is probably one of the most intense juices there is.  It’s a bold move to use it in beer, but often bold is better.  There is a good portion of wood flavor sensed as well, which grounds it a bit and allows me to keep in mind that this is a beer I’m consuming, not a juice.  It must also be noted that the overall impression is not simply “sour”, which is more of a feeling than a flavor, but funky.  Without the funk, and the aforementioned wood, this could be a carbonated fruit juice.

That isn’t to say that the grains are absent from the flavor, but they are so simple in this recipe that they’re easy to miss if you don’t think about them.  Imagine the recipe formulation process.  Any time that the grain bill consists of pale malt (base malt that is a requirement in pretty much all non-gluten free beers) and a body building grain (Carapils, flaked grains, wheat, etc.) and nothing else, you know that the “grainy” aspect of the beer is pretty much irrelevant to the brewer.  This beer is not at all about the grain, and that’s fine.

Aftertaste.

I wouldn’t necessarily say that this is where Kick shines brightest, but from a review perspective, this is a definitive area.  The tartness, which makes up a large portion of what makes this beer this beer, has a chance to subside a bit and therefore makes room for other elements to be revealed.  Those elements are very enjoyable, possibly more so than the shroud that prefaces them.  This fact alone is (and this time I’m sure) the best part about Kick.  It’s like 2 beers in 1.  It’s complexity to the up most.

Pumpkin is still sparse but here it is most relevant.  The grains come through most here too, and they have an almost vanilla like flavor.  If you’ve never smelled uncrushed Carapils, you might think I’m crazy for saying that, or you might think that I’m mistaking grain for oak.  You might be right about the oak part but I swear that Carapils has a vanilla odor.

The cranberry is so unimaginably vivid in the aftertaste.  To paraphrase The DSR, I feel like I’m inside of a cranberry’s hoo-hoo right now.  I feel like a giant cran-creature consumed me and I’m swimming in it’s stomach acids.  It kind of burns a little, but I already alluded to the extremeness of this experience.  It’s invigorating.  It’s like romanticizing self abuse a la Bukowski or Hunter S. Thompson, but on a minuscule level that won’t send you spiraling into oblivion.  Why oh why must this bottle not be bottomless?

Summation.

A sour pumpkin ale.  I’m no historian so I can’t claim to know to whom to credit the style with but I’m very much inclined to point at Sir Dick Cantwell, the ultimate purveyor of all things pumpkin beer.  Others, like Allagash and Jolly Pumpkin, have experimented with the style and have had great success.  Possibly, they are to honor.  Never-the-less, this all works brilliantly together and needs to be reproduced on a much more prolific level.

It seems that, due to the release date, bottle artwork, and pumpkin theme, this beer was likely created with thoughts of pie and cranberry sauce in mind.  Thanksgiving imagery.  That makes a lot of sense, but if that truly was the inspiration, that may be the only point in which Kick fails.  To me, this is a cranberry sour that could have been released at any time of the year.  The pumpkin is deeply hidden and the grain bill brings nothing to what could have been a pie crust kicker (no pun intended).  Really, that’s just me sharing a random though.  I am always trying to be in the heads of brewers, because I want to be one one day.

The true summation here is that this beer is brilliant.  I absolutely love it from head to toe, or crown to empty glass.  It’s revolutionary in fact, and I hope it inspires brewers the world over.

If you like New Belgium’s Kick, you should try…

Allagash’s Goelschip; Jolly Pumpkin’s La Parcela; Elysian’s Mr. Yuck Sour Pumpkin Ale

Disclaimer: This beer was gifted to us from New Belgium staff but solely as a personal gift and with no expectation of a review.

Clutch, engage.

***Notes of a Beer Nerd is a column written by resident cellar dwelling mammal, Timperial Stout. Feel free to e-mail him at timperial@beerblotter.com with any questions, concerns or comments***

Enjoyed on 9/11/2011

Brewery: New Belgium Brewing

Location: Fort Collins, CO

Beer: Clutch

Web: http://www.newbelgium.com/

Presentation: 22oz. – Blown Glass Bottle – Capped.

Vintage: 2011

Style: Sour Stout

Barrel: Blended with beer aged on oak

ABV: 9.0%

IBU: 19

Hops: Target

Malt: Dark Chocolate, Coffee, Black

Vessel: Snifter

Recommended Serving Temp: 55 degrees

Commercial Description:

It started as chance, a sandwich shop encounter between a band and a fan. It ended as the Clutch Collaboration. This pleasing, two-part potion was brewed with chocolate and black malts for a rich and roasty overtone, then fused with a dry, substratum of sour for a bold and audacious flavor. Black as night, this beer is blended at 80% stout, 20% dark sour wood beer for a collaboration that begins with a sour edge and finishes with a big, dark malt character, lingering, sweet on your palate.

The two flavors come as raucous and riotous as the Maryland band and their Fort Collins fans, getting loud and making beer, together.

Food Pairings: Beef, Smoked Meat, Game, Chocolate

Cheese Pairings: Brie, Gouda, Havarti, Swiss

Music Pairing: Clutch, naturally.

Beer Advocate: B (3.65)

Rate Beer: 92 (3.47)

Timperialstout’s Notes:

Background.

As is often the case, I have written this portion of the review at the end.  I hate to preface the remainder with a clear preemption of what’s to come, but I feel this the proper forum to admit some feelings.  Feel free to skip ahead and come back to this at the end.  Admittedly, my friend Todd Gillman of New Belgium gave me this bottle as a gift.  He did not, I repeat, did not give me this bottle with the expectation of a review.  Todd is my friend and friends sometimes do nice things for each other.

I would also call Eric Salazar a friend.  My reasoning for expressing this here is that I feel somewhat bad about the less than glowing review that follows.  Though I am trying with all of my ability to be learned and experienced in beer and brewing, I will always be ages behind Eric and Peter and Lauren and all of the crew at New Belgium.  Here, for Beer Blotter, I just drink and write my thoughts.  It’s mostly bullshit.  I’m just one guy with one palette and (admittedly) minimal pen power.  The thing that I hope I’ve portrayed is an honesty.  I have always and will always tell it like I see it.  That is all.  Take it for what it’s worth.

Appearance.

This is definitely a strong stout.  I probably could have written this section before I even opened the bottle.  The fluid is jet black with a head of dark tan, near brown.  As is so often the case with “big” stouts, the head is glorious on a firm pour but dwindles quickly.  The bubbles were large while they lasted and some free-standing lace is left in the inside of the glass.  There is something about the description – “Dark Sour Ale” – that makes me think that this should display a faint cherry color or a little bit of brightness when held to the light, but no.  Clutch is black like licorice and impenetrable to light.  One can only imagine the depths of roasted malts at play.

Odor.

At the moment I type this, the beer is very cold.  More assumptions, but I sense that this beer will evolve dramatically as it warms.  Straight from the refrigerator to glass, the odor is not all that wild.  There is a lot of raw cocoa and black malts with some somewhat subdued British brown malt, black coffee, and the slightest inkling of fruit.  Again, cherries come to mind. I must combat this association.  The fruitiness, at this juncture, is more of the leaf matter of a fruiting plant.  It’s subtle, earthy and green.

I also find some slight smokiness or char, like the smell of a searing steak on the grill.  Wet bark is also noted.  It’s actually quite heavy on the campground imagery.  I could easily have just emerged from my tent to a lush, damp Northwest forest with smokey campfires struggling to stay ablaze.

There is not a lot of sugars present in the nose.  The chocolate is bitter, the coffee is tame and void of sweetener, and the fruit is unripened.  May I say that my hands are tightly wrapped about the glass at all moments that they are not tickling the keyboard in an attempt to warm its contents.  Once this is achieved, much more strawberry is produced by a strong swirling of the glass.  Then, with further warning, wet dog comes out which is, obviously, not so pleasant.

Mouthfeel.

The body of this beer is appropriate for the style.  The style being a stout since sour stout doesn’t really possess a standard.  The carbonation is minimal and the viscosity is moderate.  If body builders typically found in stouts are used, i.e. flaked grains, they could probably stand to be used less sparingly, but I couldn’t claim to have any experience on how that would interplay with the wood aged and infected blend quotient.  Might it be more succinctly described as “not all that chewy”?  Still, “thin” would not define it.

Flavor.

The first flavor descriptor that comes to mind is chocolate.  A light acidic tartness quickly follows.  The more it warms the more squandered the cocoa and the more vinous it all becomes.  Booze increases intensity in equal parts.  It seems that, at no point does the earthiness depart.  Grape skins and leaves wash over the tongue and make for imaginative strolls through pre-harvest vineyard.

As I attempt to deconstruct the processes employed, as difficult as that is with a blend, I sense that the stout brewed for this was high in specialty grain proportion and over-attenuated.  That sounds contradictory but if I were making this beer I would have no qualms with a hot fermentation to let the yeast consume at will.  The byproduct of that, ester formation, will only feed into the Belgian, wood aged funkiness of the latter addition.  Unfortunately for me, that means minimal residual sugars.  I think the introduction of actual fruit post-fermentation would have helped round out the overtly dry, earthiness of the beer.  Of course, I am nobody and Peter Bouchart and Eric Salazar are absolute geniuses of beer.  Also, I have no clue what Clutch hoped for in this collaboration.  There is no doubt that many beer lovers prefer a dry brew.

Aftertaste.

Sour tartness not withstanding, after the brew goes down there is a lot of bitterness and a near overwhelming earthy, woodiness.  The tartness doesn’t seem to be enough to elicit a puckering mouth water, so the other elements all lead to an inevitable dryness.  Well after the swallow, the flavors seem to unfold more elegantly.  Possibly, the natural warming of the mouth livens the taste buds.  Brownies come to mind, with the slightest fruit infusion.  Esters are perceived as tannic with unripened fruit astringency.

Summation.

At the risk of sounding like a complete jack-ass, I honestly feel that the unquestionable palette of Lauren Salazar may have been on holiday when this blend was conceived.  Of course, I must offer some fine print to this bold statement.  This was a collaboration with a band.  I don’t doubt that Clutch is a band of beer aficionados, but I’m thinking that their personal preferences played a role in the final product.  These preferences may have been a compromise for New Belgium.  Also, when I see a stated blend percentage that is so straightforward as 80-20, I question whether that was pre-decided versus decided in taste tests and experimentation.

I don’t think that this beer is a complete failure.  It’s a sour stout.  What the hell is that?  I don’t think anyone really knows quite yet.  For me, in concept, it has the potential to be the greatest thing ever.  I love both sours and stouts.  In a perfect world, New Belgium, American craft kings of both experimentation and infected foeder aging, will hone the style and soon remove any questions on what a sour stout is all about.

If you like New Belgium’s Clutch, you should try…

Jolly Pumpkin’s Madrugada Obscura; Valley Brewing’s Wildcat Bourbon Barrel Sour Stout; Odin’s Thor’s Shadow

Disclaimer: This beer was gifted to us from New Belgium staff but solely as a personal gift and with no expectation of a review.

Shake the Shack-amaximum

***Notes of a Beer Nerd is a column written by resident cellar dwelling mammal, Timperial Stout. Feel free to e-mail him at timperial@beerblotter.com with any questions, concerns or comments***

Enjoyed on 6/20/2011

Brewery: Philadelphia Brewing Co.

Location: Philadelphia, PA

Beer: Shackamaximum

Web: http://www.philadelphiabrewing.com/

Presentation: 22oz. – Blown Glass Bottle – Capped.

Vintage: 2011

Style: Imperial Stout

Barrel: French Oak

ABV: 10.0%

IBU: N/A

Hops: N/A

Malt: Munich, Chocolate

Vessel: Snifter

Recommended Serving Temp: 55 degrees

Commercial Description:

In 1682 William Penn signed a treaty with the Native American leaders of the Shackamaxon village, which later became the district of Kensington, where our brewery is located today. This is a rich, dark brew made with chocolate and Munich malts and aged on French oak. We hope you enjoy sipping on this full bodied imperial stout.

Food Pairings: Beef, Smoked Meat, Game, Chocolate

Cheese Pairings: Brie, Gouda, Havarti, Swiss

Music Pairing: The Roots

Beer Advocate: B+ (3.93)

Rate Beer: 94 (3.52)

Timperialstout’s Notes:

Background.

Yet another East Coast beer discreetly shipped cross-country by special people.  In this case, both my friend Michael and my sister sent me a bottle.  It didn’t really surprise me though, that they both sent me the same thing, each on their own accord with no prompting.  It’s a special barrel aged imperial stout…and I’m Timperial Stout.  It just makes good sense.

My residence just before moving to Seattle was in the Fishtown neighborhood of Philadelphia.  I actually roomed with the Michael mentioned above in that house.  This brewery is located in Kensington, which is the neighborhood just north of Fishtown.  Having the opportunity to drink this beer is very special and it brings me back to that time and place.  This shall be an evening of recollection and reflection.

Appearance.

Shackamaximum pours a jet black opaqueness that will forever mark the appearance of my favorite beer style.  A highly vigorous pour brings to light a thick foam of tan.  The bubbles are tight near the fluid and engorge as it approaches the air.  The crown is very short lived and soon settles to a ring of large bubbles and a faint wisp.  There is only small dabs here and there of lacing on the glass.  Any attempt to gather information on the carbonation with the eyes is quickly stifled by an impenetrable blackness.

Odor.

When Shack is cold, like with almost all beers, the scent is mostly dulled.  Notes that do push through are of an earthy woodiness – almost bark like, bitter chocolate, roasted coffee, damp forest floor, and a slight estery fruitiness.

With warmth comes many distinctly barrel-aged attributes.  There is a near funkiness.  The French oak plays an enormous role here.    The roasted character of a stout is intact but beyond that there is wood and tobacco and apple skins and earthy mushroom…possibly wet dog…it’s all over the place.  Very complex.

Mouthfeel.

The inability of foam to retain for long after a rough pour told me that this would possess a remarkable viscosity.  My theory proves true.  The body is substantial without being overly cloying.  Though it’s place is below in the flavor section, there is an evident lack of sweetness.  That characteristic plays a role in the mouthfeel.  It’s not too slick, and not exactly fluffy.  Shack leans more toward a dense and heavy stout.  The carbonation is minimal, as is so often the case with heavy stouts, but it’s not at all flat.

Flavor.

I feel like I ate a brownie, chugged a coffee and licked the inside of a barrel.  I’d imagine that that is what the brewers where going for with this brew.  I’d consider it a great success.  This is such a pleasure to consume.  It’s a true delight for the discernible palate.  A highly distinguished beverage.

As I said above, it’s not very sweet, more earthy and bitter.  Normally, for me, that would be considered negative.  The barrel aging brings elements to the table that alleviate my concerns, but I do fear that, if this was un-barreled, I wouldn’t be nearly as enamored.

There is a sense that comes to me as I drink, almost a voice…it seems to speak of “oily” and “acidic”.  Much like black coffee or an intense red wine.  This beer really does have a lot in common with those beverages.  It’s surprisingly estery but I find it hard to relate it directly to fruit.  Possibly wood tannins and a hint of vanilla, especially in the aftertaste.  What’s most amazing here is the vast difference between the taste of the first sip and that of the last sip.  Temperature is everything here, but I suggest you experience it throughout the transformation, if you are able.

Aftertaste.

The aftertaste is layered, like most all areas of assessment here.  It’s pretty damn dry indeed, but the flavors of peanut and vanilla and coffee bean and bakers chocolate make it hard to speak negatively.  The booze seems to be mostly operating in this vicinity, but it takes a long time and a lot of warmth to be fully present.  I don’t hold issue with it.  I find it very easy to reach for sip after sip.

Summation.

This beer is something that you experience, not just drink.  It seems to have a life of it’s own.  I have witnessed it’s transformation, right on my tongue, just in the last hour.  This seems to be yet another testament to the undeniable enhancements that come at the hand of wood barrels.  When wood and beer mingle, positive results almost always follow.  Cheers to Philly!

If you like Philadelphia Shackamaximum, you should try…

Founder’s KBS; FiftyFifty’s Imperial Eclipse Stout; Goose Island’s Bourbon County Stout

Disclaimer: This beer was purchased by Beer Blotter with our own hard-earned money, and aged to perfection by yours truly.

Gnome Beer

***Notes of a Beer Nerd is a column written by resident cellar dwelling mammal, Timperial Stout. Feel free to e-mail him at timperial@beerblotter.com with any questions, concerns or comments***

Enjoyed on 5/23/2011

Brewery: Haandbryggeriet

Location: Drammen, Norway

Beer: Nissefar “Father Christmas” Norwegian Holiday Ale also known as Magic Gnome Ale

Web: http://www.haandbryggeriet.net/

Presentation: 16.9oz. – Blown Glass Bottle – Capped.

Vintage: 2008

Style: Christmas Ale/Porter/Old Ale/???

Barrel: N/A

ABV: 7.0%

IBU: 36

Hops: N/A

Malt: N/A

Vessel: Snifter

Recommended Serving Temp: 50 degrees

Commercial Description:

From the bottle-

The ‘nisse’ is a traditional figure in Norwegian lore – a barn gnome who was never seen but was known to get quite ticked off, and play nasty tricks, when a farmer forgot to leave a bowl of beer out for him at Christmas.  In the old days, farmers were required to be brewers, and they would all compete to brew the best Christmas beer in the region.

From the Shelton Brothers site-

Nissefar (AKA Father Christmas) is Haand’s big Christmas beer. The mash tun is packed to its limits with tons of yummy special malts. It’s complex, packed with the tastes and smells of Christmas, like chocolate, caramel and raisins.

Nissefar is only brewed for Christmas. It goes well with traditional Christmas dinners and aged cheeses.

Food Pairings: BBQ, Turkey, Chocolate

Cheese Pairings: Brie, Gouda, Havarti, Swiss

Music Pairing: Burzum

Beer Advocate: B+ (3.8)

Rate Beer: 96 (3.61)

Timperialstout’s Notes:

Background.

This beer seems to have gone through a significant amount of changes through the years.  I’m not sure if the recipe is one of them but surely the label and name and description is.  I’ve done my best to make the above information as accurate as possible.

For information about this unique brewery I highly suggest you check out the Shelton Brother page.  The brewery name can be broken into “Haand” which means hand and “bryggeriet” which means brewery.  The label to this beer is old but if you look at their more recent labels they all have a hand print on them as though someone had grabbed the bottle with greasy hands.  It’s pretty cool.

I bough this bottle from Big Star Beers in Northgate about a year ago.  Luckily for me, the bottle has a sticker on it that says the brewed date and the best before date.  This bottle was brewed in June of ’08 and is best before June of 11.  I felt I better drink it.  One must wonder if it really sat on the shelves of Big Star for 2 years.

Appearance.

Nissefar fills the glass with an intensely opaque liquid that is crowned with a gorgeous head that rises as if the beer was bottle conditioned.  It’s almost a surprise that it didn’t gush out of the bottle before I had a chance to tip it.

The head is rocky and consists of varying sized bubbles.  Those closest to the beer are significantly darker than those atop the peaks.  This makes me think that that liquid is mighty devious, slowly blackening its surroundings from the central, hatred depths.  Those depths are indeed black like death and collapse all light that dares to pass.

The head eventually settles to a thin cake atop the brew and stays.  There is never a time that you can see the blackness from above.  It’s copper in color and it’s alarming how much joy it brings me.  There is no lacing to speak of but the legs are impressive.

Odor.

Initially, right off the pour, the nose displayed a tart funkiness which lent me to believe that this beer was spoiled, possibly due to age and the potential of poor storage.  With time, and the more I got into it, the more I felt that the acidity was more fruit/spice/berry vinous from the yeast and specialty grains or, I ponder most quizzically, the use of juniper or some odd fruit.  This seems most unlikely since I feel it would have been communicated in some way on one of the many sites I checked for information on this beer.

Phenolic seems like an understatement here.  There is a lot of peculiar spice and medicinal qualities.  There is a faint smokiness and a heavy mineral presence.  I get a hint of yogurt but I don’t think it’s diacetyl, more “band-aid” from the phenols.

There is a solid, black roasted, near smoked and charred malt backbone beneath all of the lunacy that allows for you to remember the fact that it’s a beer in your glass.  I assume I’ve described what many of you must imagine is a terrifying beer, but it’s actually highly enjoyable in the nose.  Not at all what I expected, and clearly, not at all “normal”, but still delightfully unique and intriguing.

Mouthfeel.

This is a challenge to describe.  There is a lot of silly shit happening in my mouth right now.  I’ll get more into that below, but there are a few things that are for certain – the carbonation is high for the style, whatever that is, and the body is thin.  Not thin in general but thin for what I would expect from a winter ale or a porter or an old ale.

Flavor.

Smoke!  Smoke wallops you in the face as soon as the liquid hits the tongue.  I get the sense that this is a “kitchen sink” sort of grain bill and whenever that happens, if rauch or peated malts are involved in any way, they will be most pronounced.  In this case, when paired with the tartness that hits you in the back corners of the mouth, it’s a wild, contradictory experience.  The tongue reads the drying waft of a campfire while the acidity sparks a gush of saliva to put out the flame.

Other than that smoke, the only real malt flavors sensed come in a soft astringency that is difficult to pinpoint but again, it reminds you that this is beer and that there’s a reason why Nissefar is so black in color.  Otherwise, it’s like a wine that was discovered on an alien probe sent out into deep space and brought to Earth by pure happenstance and great fortune.  It’s full of esters and minerals.  I still get the sense of juniper, or some deep forest berries of the darkest hue.

With more warmth comes the blooming of cherry trees, in both the nose and taste.  It’s fantastic.  I feel as though I’m smoking a Phillies cigar with a cherry sweetened tip.  I’m not a cigar guy but in beer form, it’s sublime.

Aftertaste.

There is a boat load of smoke in the aftertaste as well, and with a significant warming, the other malts finally come out in this section alone.  It’s pretty much just an over-roasted taste.  Not super noteworthy in flavor but it’s nice to finally meet that attribute.

This beer is never dry, even in the aftertaste, which is where I most expected it.  I can only assume that the mouth’s reaction to the acidity disallows it.  And well after the swallow, there is a kick of some wonderful flavors of fruit leather.  This beer just never quits.

Summation.

This is, easily, one of the most unique beers I have ever tasted.  I’m not at all surprised though.  A tiny brewery in Norway…. yeah, of coarse it’s going to seem foreign.  With that being said, I love this beer to death.  I want more of it right now!

The sad thing, or potentially sad thing, is that I kind of doubt that my experience with this beer will ever be duplicated.  I don’t think that this is what this beer is supposed to taste like.  I don’t get chocolate or coffee or raisins.  I can’t sense the bitterness amidst the funk.  The few reviews I have read of this beer are nothing like mine.  I guess I will just enjoy this to the very last sip and consider myself the lucky receiver of a fortunate mishap.

If you like Haandbryggeriet Nissefar, you should try…

The Bruery’s Anniversary Beers; Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald; Anchor Porter

Disclaimer: This beer was purchased by Beer Blotter with our own hard-earned money, and aged to perfection by yours truly.

***Notes of a Beer Nerd is a column written by resident cellar dwelling mammal, Timperial Stout. Feel free to e-mail him at timperial@beerblotter.com with any questions, concerns or comments***

Enjoyed on 5/1/2011

Brewery: Pisgah Brewing Co.

Location: Black Mountain, NC

Beer: Solstice

Web: http://pisgahbrewing.com/

Presentation: 750ml. – Blown Glass Bottle – Corked and Caged.

Vintage: 2011

Style: Belgian Tripel

Barrel: N/A

ABV: 9.5%

IBU: N/A

Hops: N/A

Malt: N/A

Vessel: Chalice

Recommended Serving Temp: 55 degrees

Commercial Description:

Pisgah’s year round Belgian. A Tripel ale, this beer contains moderately fruity esters with an alcoholic complexity supported by a soft malt character. This beer is pale gold in color and 9.5% ABV. (750ml  and draft)

Food Pairings:  Ostrich; Bouillabaisse; Baked Ham; Pork; Poultry; Mediterranean

Cheese Pairings: Bleu; Cheddar; Gorgonzola

Music Pairing: Black Mountain

Beer Advocate: A- (4.06)

Rate Beer: 94 (3.52)

Timperialstout’s Notes:

Background.

This little gem is one of the many brews I brought back with me from my epic trip to Asheville, NC in January.  To read about the significance of Asheville in the craft beer world, check out this article.  Also, for more information on that trip of mine, check this and this.

When the weather finally starts to brighten up from the long doldrums of winter, most beer drinkers reach for light lagers – lawnmower beers, if you will.  Not this beer nerd.  I reach for saisons and Belgian tripels.  Yes, much lighter in color than a majority of ales, but still packed with flavor and complexity.  It’s a beautiful Sunday in Seattle and time to pop open a Southern brewer’s take on a tripel.  Let’s do this!

Appearance.

Solstice looks like a hot summer day.  It’s golden like the steamy rays of the sun reflecting off the hay strewn fields of America’s Midwest.  The head is stark white, bringing that much more life to the soft yellow hue of the liquid.  The carbonation is lively like children skipping and frolicking through the cold mist of a sprinkler.  The head melts away like the morning fog, leaving only the slightest bits of lace to remember it by.  It’s far more inviting on this glorious Seattle day than the hearty, dark brews that I normally review for this column.

Odor.

This beer smells like summer as well – like natural life itself.  It’s very grassy and clean.  There is a mild, sweet graininess from pale malts and possibly wheat.  Whatever hopping may have bittered this beverage is highly subdued and all floral and spice.  I feel as though I’m laying face first in a field of high grass, or… wet sand.  Does wet sand have a smell?  It’s not salty but it is somewhat soapy and mineraly.

Yeast can often dominate within this style but is mostly idle here.  The esters are much more quite than I suspected – very little fruit is detected.  I’d say “spicy hay” is most notable, which puts me in autumn more than summer.  It’s a soft, subtle manipulation of the senses, which again, is rarely seen in these notes.  Like a silk-skinned woman, I can respect refined class in beer as well.

Mouthfeel.

The brewers have added sugar here, which keeps to Belgian tradition within the tripel style.  This may not come across too vivaciously in the above sections, but it lends to a pleasant, coating mouthfeel.  It’s never too much, in fact, it’s just right.

Flavor.

This beer tastes very much like it smells, with added ethanol presence.  At the risk of sounding repetitive, it’s grainy, sweet, soapy, wheaty…wait, that doesn’t sound that good does it?

There is a yeasty presence that’s almost chalky with the pale grains.  Finally, after much warming, the esters make their presence know and play cunningly with the sweetness just prior to the swallow.  With this said, may it bring light to my recommended serving temperature above.  There is, all of a sudden, many notes of green apple and white grapes.  Under-ripe peach and pear find their place too.  This beer just turned over to something so much more.  Patience is a virtue.

Aftertaste.

The aftertaste is brilliant here.  It retains all of this beer’s best qualities.  Long lasting sweetness with a massaging, almost corn like hug from the grain bill.  It’s only partially dry and littered with white meat fruits.  Everything about this beer is like sinking deep in a bed of fluffy white cloud.

Summation.

This is a tripel from America.  It’s sweet but it’s not candy coated like most of the style’s homeland.  The bottle conditioning is pretty key because, like sweetness, high carbonation is crucial to reproducing a true tripel.  The carbonation is active here but it could be increased.  If the removal of the cork produced a foam that crept up and over the lip of the bottle, we’d be on the right track.

I haven’t counted my usage of “soft” and/or “subdued” but this beer is living and breathing in a world that’s not unlike unprocessed teas.  May it be white or oolong or green, this is earth unrefined (maybe a little refined).  Respect the intimate touch of a brewer and you will be rewarded.

If you like Pisgah Solstice, you should try…

Unibroue La Fin Du Monde; Big Sky Buckin’ Monk; Ommegang Tripel Perfection

Disclaimer: This beer was purchased by Beer Blotter with our own hard-earned money, and aged to perfection by yours truly.