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

Just Give Me One Singularity Reason

The Singularity has opened.  Space and time are drawn towards it, powerless to combat this unstoppable force of nature.  I reach the event horizon; the laws of physics no longer apply.  I am everywhere and nowhere all at once.  This defies all conventional form of thought.

Or so I had hoped.

Welcome back to Beer Cruise, after an unexpected hiatus involving a fight between me and my bike and the ground.  Guess who won?  Turns out pain and medication don't mix well with beer and attempting to be funny (emphasis on attempting).

So what delicious malt beverage has the venerated honour of being put in the spotlight this week?  Well it's the beer that, according to science, should absorb that light and everything else around it; Singularity, from Driftwood.  As you might have divulged from my cryptic introduction, Singularity seems like it was not what I expected.  A correct assumption.  And let me just get one thing straight:

This beer is not for me.

Such a sad thing to admit, considering all the elements were correct for an ultimate explosion of praise and admiration being flung at Driftwood with reckless abandon.  It's a Russian Imperial Stout, for one, and if you know me even in the slightest, you know that I have a tender place in the region where my heart otherwise would be for this kind of beer.  Second, it's 11.6% alcohol.  Yes, you read that right; 11.6%.  That's stratospheric.  That's...monstrous.  And third, this beer has presence.  Much like the Belgian Black reviewed a few articles back, this beer exhumes menace with its silky black label, its wax-coated bottle top, the simple-yet-stylish artwork and that sinful name.  Singularity.  Yes, it's just downright satisfying to say.

Unfortunately, the satisfaction largely ends there.  To say Singularity was not what I expected is an understatement.  I've never had a stout at all like this.  Now, I'm not going to suggest for a moment that this is a bad beer, because Driftwood knows their way around a brewing vat, and it's entirely likely that this comes down to subjective taste.  Unfortunately for them, subjective taste is what this blog is all about.  This beer more closely resembles (and I know this is damn near heresy to speak of) a wine than a beer.  I know, I know!  It's difficult to explain exactly why, but it has that stronger fermentation taste, and lacks any real distinct taste of malt, coffee or chocolate easily detected in most good stouts.

It's certainly not offensive or any such thing, it just fails to wow.  Horrifyingly, there are even mediocre stouts that I would easily pick over this.  Why?  Singularity weighs in at over $10 a bottle.  Ouch.  Now while this sort of price isn't entirely unusual, I do expect it to rather blow my mind at such a cost, considering beers half that price have done as much.  And this...doesn't, sad to say.  Maybe it's just me; maybe others out there will love it.  I certainly wanted to.  I just...don't.  If I had to sum this beer up in a single word, it would be, sadly, 'disappointing'.

I wanted to like you...so much.

Taste:  Stouts are the pinnacle of beer technology, and chief among them are the Russian Imperials.  This one, however, doesn't really fit the bill I had in mind.  It's not boring or bland by any stretch...it's just unusual, and not in the way I would like.

Aroma:  Honestly, it just smells like fermented...something.  Again, like the flavour, not awful, just bizarre for a stout.

Aftertaste:  It may be beyond my palate but I just could not detect anything worthy of note (Get it?  Note?  Like notes of coffee?  Lol pun!).

Recommended?:  No

Verdict:  This is the first beer I've reviewed and have given a solid 'do not recommend'.  That's sad, very sad, because I was so looking forward to it.  And it's not to say that this beer is terrible necessarily; I just cannot recommend it entirely on the basis that I did not enjoy it, and I do not believe the high price tag to be worth the risk if you're on the fence about it.  Sadface, indeed.

Score:  3 mugs out of 10.

May the Dark Force Be With You

Vikings.  These guys were pretty cool.  I mean they really were the quintessential badasses of medieval Europe.  Whilst the English were content with drinking tea and wiping their asses with goose necks, the Spanish were determined to bring about another Dark Age through the illumination of Catholism, and the French strutted around like overstuffed peacocks, dropping their weapons at the slightest whiff of an enemy approaching (wait, am I speaking in past tense?), these crazy northern warriors were raiding and pillaging their way through multiple countries, and generally exhuming an aura of awesomeness.

So one would think that should these beastly Scandinavians decide to break into the craft beer scene, they might cause a stir that would rival their infamy of the ancient world.  One might well be correct in such an assumption.  

Thus we are brought to the beer of discussion for the week: it's Dark Force, by, uh...by...Haan-...HaandBryg-...a Norwegian microbrewery.  So what is this beer, pray tell?  It's (you'd best brace yourself for the impending onslaught of awesome) a 'double extreme imperial wheat stout'.  How many other things in history have you ever wanted to try as much as that?  On sheer naming prowess alone, this beer stands so far above all others that one could only conclude it has reached the halls of Valhalla.  

Luckily, the beer is up to the task that the name presents.  This is a really, really good stout.  It's not particularly flamboyant or specializing in any intense flavours like coffee or chocolate, and while those notes are indeed preserved, what it does so well is just blast your taste buds with a force previously unknown to man.  Not only is it a megaton explosion of flavour, but it has the alcohol content to match the intensity, rolling in at a not-too-shabby 9%.  It smells nice too.

And let me just get back to the mere presence of this beer.  It's Norwegian, so it was made by vikings that believe in the existence of trolls.  It's the first beer I've ever seen to be dubbed a 'double extreme' anything.  It's called "Dark Force" for god's sake...what more convincing do you need?  Have this beer in hand, and others will grovel before you, begging for mercy as you plunder their land and women.  It's epic.

Techno Viking.  Timeless.

Taste:  I like a good stout.  So when someone comes along offering something that's both a double and extreme variation of that beer, I tend to notice.  Dark Force does not disappoint; it's really that intense and full-flavoured.

Aroma:  Sweet and almost spicy, sharp and defined.

Aftertaste:  Not at all dissimilar to many other stouts; relatively complex with long lasting flavour.  It's not particularly original, but it's still excellent nonetheless.

Recommended?:  Ja!

Verdict:  I've had another of HaandBryggeriet's beers before, and it was very good, so naturally my expectations for Dark Force were rather high.  They were raped and pillaged by the truth: this is one hell of a stout.

Score:  9.5 mugs out of 10.




For more from HaandBryggeriet, cruise on over to their website:  http://www.haandbryggeriet.net/

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Black

I think it's been well established that I like Lighthouse.  I've already dedicated two full articles to reviewing three of their beer, with a fourth featured in a 3-in-1 review.  I was not planning on revisiting this brewery, not for a very long time, and yet I'm going to shatter that expectation.  Why?  Oh well I could go on and on about how this is my blog, how you lot should get used to it, how you all are peasants under the influence of my lordly iron grip...  But truth be told, I've just been anticipating this beer for a number of months, ever since it was an unnamed rumour that was said only to have a matte black bottle.  I knew from that small hint alone that it would be something up my alley, and as fate would have it, my expectations proved true.

It's called the Belgian Black, so right away you know there's no messing about.  Lighthouse seems to covet their Belgian style beers, beginning with the Saison and the IPA, and now culminating with this dark and difficult third album.  Luckily, they have pulled it off.  Largely.

10 points if you get this reference.

So upon first impressions, what does the Belgian Black have to offer?  Well, it doesn't scream, shout or punch you in the face, but what it does do is tantalize your palate as you go back for more.  And more.  The initial flavour is, well, it's good, but it's not the sort of shock-and-awe I had originally hoped for.  I was expecting armageddon in my mouth, but instead received only an ICBM of flavour to the tongue.  It's still certainly no slouch upon that initial swing, but it doesn't fully come into its own until you've had a few more.  This is one of those highly complex beers that changes ever so slightly each time you try it.  One swallow may produce spicy, sweet notes, while the next will be bitter and bold.  It's odd, yet captivating.  It's somehow subtle and outrageous all at once.  It earns my vote of confidence.

This is quite a unique beer.  I'm sure others like it exist, but in my quest for exciting new beer, I've yet to find them.  And that's special, because while I enjoy an extremely powerful iteration on a common beer type like a stout or winter ale, unique or rare beer variants are always interesting to investigate.

As an additional note, the Black weighs in at a hefty 9%.  Certainly not the strongest beer I've had this season, but among them, and in some intangible way, this beer actually feels significantly more powerful than the alcohol content suggests.  It could be that combination of rich, spiced, savoury taste melding with a high percentage, but it's like an injection of smooth flavours laced with muscle relaxants.  Seal of approval goes here.

And if all else fails, you've got that incredible bottle art to admire.  Oooo, pretty.

Insert obligatory pirate pun here.

Taste:  Not the nuclear bomb of flavour you might expect from a strong, dark beer, but what comes instead is a slow-burning, yet intense and complicated assortment of flavours ranging from bitter to sweet and back again.  Belgian styles tend to have a smoothness to them, and this one is no exception.  Really very good.

Aroma:  It's surprisingly lacking considering everything going on in there.

Aftertaste:  There are few beers that achieve this level of complexity.  Each sip, swig and swallow must be savoured for the full effect, left to make you wonder what the next may bring with it.

Recommended?:  Yes.

Verdict:  Is this Lighthouse's masterpiece?  Well, I'd love to say unequivocally yes, but it's a tough call.  This is definitely an excellent beer, though I fear my expectations may have been out of control.  What this beer is, is extremely well-rounded.  It's got the very high percentage, it's got the great, complex flavour, it's got a smooth finish and aftertaste, and it has absolute presence, with that intimidating name and bottle art.  I'd happily have a half dozen more bottles before the end of the season (a point which I may well prove).

Score:  9 mugs out of 10


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