A Light in Dark Places

Oh Lighthouse.  Oh...oh Lighthouse, do you ever know how to treat a man just right.  First you shocked me by introducing an IPA that I actually liked, then you thrilled me by releasing a beer so dark and rich that it made Oprah look pale and poor by comparison.  And now...

May I present Lighthouse's newest addition; their dark chocolate porter.  

Now, as this review is coming on the tail end of yet another chocolate beer, one may expect that certain comparisons would be made.  One would be correct.  Allow me to elaborate on the finer points of what differentiates Lighthouse's chocolate-infused brew from Granville Island's:

It's better.

More GIB drama.  Bring on the hate.

The end; I can go home now.  Actually, I'm already at home, so I guess I can investigate this further.  It's actually quite a lot better, in my mind.  Sure, porters are not stouts, but they're damned close, and even with a significantly reduced alcohol percentage (5.5%), Lighthouse melts the chocolate competition from GIB.  It munches it.  It devours it.  This porter is one hot chocolate.  One might even say that for porters, it's the new chocolate, *ahem*...bar.  Is...is that enough?  Can I stop making bad puns now?

Immediately following the glorious sound of carbonation escaping a cracked lid, the bottle cap sailing clear across the room, your flaring nostrils are met with a roasted aroma of delicious proportion.  Puckered, salivating lips awaiting, you thrust the frothy head sloshing about the top of the pint glass into your mouth, the liquid's tantalizing flavours dancing across your tongue.  Your eyes roll into the back of your head as an exasperated gasp escapes your mouth, and you reach down to-

Ahem.  Whoops, wrong blog.  You can read more on this story at my extra-risque alternative beer blog over at www.beerotica.blogspot.com

(If you went to it you're dumb but I still love you)

Back to the beer.  Yes, that may well be a slightly...sensationalized review, but the truth is it's just a very, very solid chocolate porter.  While the ABV is seemingly weak, the result actually manages a feel that is quite potent, giving a kick much stronger than beers with a significantly higher percentage.  The chocolate flavour, like Brooklyn's black chocolate, is pretty much perfect.  It doesn't dominate the beer flavour; it accompanies it exactly how you'd want it to.  The roasted taste of both cocoa and coffee beans makes for a very robust sensation.

As for the all-important question that I'm sure is on the tip of your collective tongues...where the hell is the cruising at?  Well, it hasn't exactly been cruising weather, on top of my own beloved cruiser developing a few faults and me, in turn, developing a severe case of inability to be bothered in fixing them.  But hey, summer is just around the corner folks...


Taste:  An excellent equilibrium of chocolate and malty beer, with complex, roasted flavours and a kick that would make Wesley Snipes proud.

Aroma:  Like a great, sophisticated dessert, this does not reek of simple-natured sweetness, but challenges the nasal passages, and invites the mouth to join in on the excitement.

Aftertaste:  Porters have never been particularly exciting or revolting to me when it comes to aftertaste, and this dark chocolate doesn't stray far from that.  It certainly lingers and evolves more than...certain...other...chocolate brews (which shall remain unGravilleIslandBrewerynamed)

Recommended?:  Definitely.

Verdict:  It's not the bombshell that the Belgian Black was, but Lighthouse has crafted yet another really fantastic beer.  Chocolate and beer living together in harmonious union within one bottle.  You see?  There's hope for us all.

Score:  8.5 mugs out of 10.


For more on Lighthouse Brewing, cruise on over to their website:  http://www.lighthousebrewing.com/

Once More With Feeling

Every villain deserves a chance at redemption.  Ebenezer Scrooge got his, and look how that turned out.  Hell, even the child-slaying, planet-destroying, chokin'-a-bitch Sith Lord Darth Vader was cleared of his wrong-doings in the end.  It's fitting, then, that the evil-doers of the craft beer world be offered up their chance to balance their misdeeds with a dollop of righteous heroism.  Granville Island Brewing, would you please stand up?

It's no secret to the world that Granville Island and I do not see eye-to-eye.  On more than one occasion, their name has been spat upon within the hallowed pages of this blog.  Why?  They play the part of the progressive, forward-thinking craft brewery, all the while diverting attention away from the collar at their necks, and the leash being held by the Dark Lord Molson.  Generally speaking, this partnership results in a slew of remarkably average and yawn-inducing beer, though every once in a while, something of noteworthy quality accidentally slips through off the end of the production lines at GIB.  One such example may well be their Imperial Chocolate stout, made with Vancouver's own Rogers Chocolate, no less.

Now, at this point, you are no doubt expecting me to race to the nearest mountain top, plant my flag for microbrew domination, and shout the declaration of my infallible accuracy in branding all Granville Island beers as traitors to the cause.  However, in the interest of journalistic integrity (on Beer Cruise?  Yes, do try to contain your shock and awe), I will approach this beer as if the words 'Granville', 'Island', or 'Megagiant Producer of Fizzy Yellow Water' (see: Molson) appear nowhere on the label or thorough background checks.

So, that nonsensical and extremist rhetoric out of the way, what exactly do I think about this particular fusion of all things chocolate, malt and alcoholic?  Well, it's certainly not terrible.

Review over!  Congratulations on making a non-terrible beer Granville Island!

Ahem.  No, no I shall solider on.  "But wait," you say, "you gave your previous Granville Island beer a pretty decent review!"  You're right; I did, in fact, give their pumpkin ale a 7.5/10, not a score to scoff at.  The thing you have to consider about it is that first of all, this was the first pumpkin ale of the season that my mouth had laid lips upon, and therefore I was overly willing to surrender the goods and deliver upon it a level of praise not indicative of its actual quality.  Second...well, truth be told, there is no real second point; after trying the offerings from the likes of Howe Sound, Red Racer, Phillips and Tree Brewing, GIB's attempt at a pumpkin ale came off as potent and flavourful as a bar of soap garnished with plain jelly beans.

So their pumpkin ale was more than forgettable.  This chocolate stout, however, is not on that level of dismissive quality.  However, it's also not exactly what I would like it to be.  The chocolate is extremely, and I do mean extremely, forward and punctual, assaulting your senses like an angry honey badger.  Unfortunately, that's about where the magic ends.  The stout sadly falls flat after the first few seconds, not lingering or challenging your taste buds.  It just does not have that savoury, expansive, reaching-every-corner-of-your-mouth flavour to it.  For the absolutely intense level of aroma it offers, and the initial slam of chocolate firepower landed on your tongue, what follows can only be described as somewhat disappointing, and I'd even go so far as to say a bit boring.

But mistake me not; this is far from a bad beer.  It just lacks that level of complexity one expects from a good, high percentage imperial stout.  It's a far cry from, say, Brooklyn's Black Chocolate stout, or Young's Double Chocolate, among others.  It's not something I'd recommend outright, but I also would certainly not deter anyone from giving it a try, especially if they enjoy a nice piece of chocolate with their brew of choice.

So does this beer provide the redemption so desperately sought after by Granville Island?  Well, kinda sorta, to put it plainly.  It would be a bit like Darth Vader carrying the Emperor off towards the conveniently placed infinitely deep shaft, then at the last minute plonking him down gently and requesting that the Emperor make the jump himself because he just can't be bothered.  The intent is there, but the execution?  Hmmm.

WHELP....  Looks like I can keep on hatin' on GIB. 

Taste:  Delicious Roger's Chocolate fused with 8.4% of alcohol and sprinkled with malt and a (very slight) touch of hops.  But where's the complex flavours?  Where's that thick, rich goodness one expects from a stout of lordly caliber?

Aroma:  Again, like the taste, pretty damn shocking.  It's like your Christmas stocking, Easter basket and Valentine's day box-o-chocolates all smashed into one container.

Aftertaste:  No.  ...What are you waiting around for?  Just no, there is no aftertaste.  It falls flat on its face after a few seconds.  Aftertaste can be bad, yes, but it also allows for complexity and longevity in heftier beers such as these...and having no aftertaste at all is not the answer.

Recommended?:  Are you a chocoholic and/or a fan of stouts?  Give it a shot.  If not, give this one a pass.

Verdict:  I did actually want to like this a lot.  Yes, Granville Island and I have a history of (literary) bad blood, but come now; an imperial chocolate stout?  Why would I not want to prance through the streets proclaiming its greatness, and shamelessly bathe naked in its glory?  ...Erm...uh...yeah, why not?

Score:  7 mugs out of 10.

Speaking of Darth Vader...if you haven't seen this video your life is incomplete.

Get Hammer'd!

Barrel Aged or not?  Like asking if you'd prefer Kiera Knightley or Natalie Portman.

Stouts are a beautiful thing.  Dark and malty, rich and hearty, and often emblazoned with a name to make lager-boys everywhere quiver in fear.  And standing mightiest above all other stouts are the Russian imperials, which take an existing and winning formula, then turbo charge it with more of everything and enhance the alcohol content enough to reduce you to an inebriated, belching mess after but a pint or two.

It should be no surprise, then, that when a brewery such as Phillips comes along and makes a new Russian imperial stout dubbed "The Hammer", one should take notice.  One would be wise to do as such.

The Hammer is, in a word, bliss.  It's one of the best Russian imperial stouts I've had in quite some time, boasting an incredibly chocolatey flavour with notes of coffee and malt, all of which manages to slide across your palate like butter on ice.  Really, this is a shockingly smooth and savoury stout, and is actually completely approachable by those not yet baptized in the holy suds of beer connoisseurship.  The taste is full and complex, without being harsh, and the aroma is intriguing and inviting, without being pungent.  It also surely doesn't hurt that this particular RIS weighs in at a not-to-be-trifled-with 8.3%.

So, it's local, it's delicious, it's got that wonderful name, and it'll get you drunker than an Irishman at an open bar. Surely at this point, I will demand that you go out and buy yourself a bottle or two immediately.  Right?

Unfortunately for you unlucky suckers out there, Phillips has ceased production of The Hammer.  Now, before you all label me as some sort of epic troll, my reasoning for this review is simple; it may come back.  Stouts are generally seasonal, so I'm not shocked to see many breweries putting theirs away for the upcoming spring and summer.  Besides which, I do like to acknowledge when a local brewery makes an exceptional beer.  Phillips has been on a roll lately with this, the Double Dragon imperial red ale and their mash-up Baltic porter.  They're a brewery to watch in the coming months.  And after all, isn't it nice...to be nice?

Stop!

Taste:  As if being struck by this beer's namesake, the ensuing torrent of taste will leave your 'buds dancing for more.  Like a slab of dark chocolate dipped in coffee, then peppered by malt and infused with a wallop of alcohol.

Aroma:  Not overwhelming, but most definitely defined.  Understated notes of chocolate and malt beg you to pour the sweet black nectar into your awaiting, puckered lips.

Aftertaste:  Smooth and refined, not a damn bit of revulsion in the slightest.  Complex, yes, but focused on the rich chocolate flavour. 

Recommended?:  Yes (Good luck finding one SUCKERS!)

Verdict:  Overall...one of the finest Russian imperial stouts in recent memory.  Combining the best of all these great dark and savoury bits of deliciousness into one bottle of fermented goodness.  This...this is what I look for in a stout.  To all you breweries out there; look to The Hammer and Phillips Brewery, because they have provided the bar to beat.

Score:  10 mugs out of 10.




For more on Phillips Brewery, cruise on over to their website:  http://phillipsbeer.com/

A Beer With Some Meat To It

We now return to "When Nordics Make a Beer...Part Deux!"

Everything is better with bacon, so they say.  Even saving the galaxy in Mass Effect 3.  Of course, such a pairing would work further wonders with a beer.  Specifically, Beer Geek Bacon, by Danish brewmeisters Mikkeller.

So what we have here is a fusion of two of the greatest edible substances known to mankind; bacon and beer.  Just sit back and give this equation of masterful brilliance a moment's thought.  Bacon and beer...brought together in glorious union.  What raving, maniacal madman of a genius plotted to bring these giants of flavour and chest-thumping masculinity together?  Whoever is responsible must be awarded a medal of honour.

The result is something (un)surprisingly unique; one of the few beers I've ever had that tastes more like it just came off the barbecue, rather than out of the beer fridge.  However, while other smokey beers may hearken back to those lovely summer nights on the patio, a steak on the grill, the smell of burning flesh wafting into your awaiting, flaring nostrils, this beer literally tastes of meat.  And as you might expect, this is not a bad thing.

Bacon, as a flavour, lacks subtly, so obviously I had concerns that this would be one of those silly flavoured beers that tastes entirely like the flavouring substance, and forgetting the taste of beer altogether (Lambic, I'm looking at you).  As it turns out, this is not the case; the meaty, greasy, manly flavour of bacon is more subtle than I would have expected, incorporating the smokey barbecue tastes that are often found in smoked ales with a more-than-hint and less-than-dollop of gloriously fried up pig.  While not as savoury as I had anticipated, the beer ends up being more complex and interesting than the expectation of booze-infused bacon strips.

But...despite all this, I'm not gibbering like a half-mad lunatic about the improbably brilliance of Bacon Geek Beer.  How can this be?  Well, there's no denying this is a good beer; very good in fact.  I just suppose the notion of combining the titans of taste together in one unified bottle of magnificence set expectations that were impossible to meet.  It's somehow not as intense as I would like; for all its complexity, I would like it to toss me about a bit, maybe rough me up, give me a fat lip and inform me that I'm to tell everyone I fell down a flight of stairs.  I like it when a beer plays hardball.  This one had a more gentle touch.  And that's a bit of a shame, but it's still not nearly enough to ruin the experience, not by a long way.

Taste:  Meat.  Smoke.  Barley and hops.  The manly fist-pumps will be without end.

Aroma:  Ever done that thing where you shove a beer can up a chicken's ass and roast it on the barbecue?  That, but with a pig instead.

Aftertaste:  Strange.  Smokey, slightly bitter, the intriguing meat flavour coming and going.  It's subtle for a flavoured beer, which is unexpected with bacon, and the result is something that lingers not unpleasantly.

Recommended?:  Yes

Verdict:  While it didn't blow my mind with 50 megatons of bacon grease as I had hoped, Beer Geek Bacon manages to be a surprisingly grown-up and sophisticated beer...especially when you consider it's pig flavoured.

Score:  8 mugs out of 10.




For more on Mikkeller, cruise on over to their website:  http://www.mikkeller.dk/index.php?land=1