Another top 100 gem rolls in for your virtual tasting enjoyment. This beer came out a while back and everyone lost their shit and wanted the moon and the stars for it. 10,000 bottles later my hipstbeer sense remains intact, I had this when it was an unlabeled hand bottle. CBS was cooler when it was underground.
Founders Canadian Breakfast Stout, 9.3%
A: nice brown mahogany tones, not exceptionally thick but a welcoming nice tiny bubbles. It just looks like a chill homie, the dude you talk to in the bathroom line, that sweet girl who tells you who does her hair. Sweet and deep in scope. LIKE COPERNICUS BEST SYSTEM. C…B…
S: amazing maple sweetness, nice sticky chocolate, amazing waft, it’s like boning a maple syrup clown in an ihop, except the clown is a ford model and its not sex, it is just SMELLING.
T: toffee, coffee, sticky vanilla notes, it has a great maple syrup sweetness to it that gives a great caramel and brown sugar resonance. The exhaling waft has a nice dry hint of espresso. Give old molasses granny a smooch, get all up in it, she just had chocolate donuts, mmm maple bars, its sweet and dirty but so ri- wait what were we talking about? Oh yeah, beers and shit.
M: This hits just the right mark with me. They took the Founders Breakfast Stout, the oats and the silkiness, and boosted the ABV just a bit and balanced it out even further with amazing sweet notes that were absent in the breakfast stout. All around, just incredibly drinkable and balanced.
D: This is the most drinkable stout that I have ever had. The cruel irony is that it is the least accessible stout that I have ever had, therefore, making it not drinkable. It has this awesome slick coating to the middle that isn’t too heavy and doesn’t weigh the palate down. It doesn’t make you ruminate over the last sip and instead ops for a cleaner oilier finish that beckons for the next taste. This is an incredible stout and worthy of the hype.
Narrative: Noble Clifford Oatshire looked out over his majestic estate of rolling maple trees and moose farms. “It seems so simple doesn’t it Jarvis?” “Sir?” “The maple syrup business, being born into an unshakeable empire of saccharine sweet breakfast commodities.” He ruminated while pressing his hand idly against the antique French-Canadian glass. “I- I don’t follow sir.” “Jarvis what I am asking is simple, all of this, the basset hounds, the rich gourmand palate that I have acquired, the first edition tomes bound in supple calf skin, to what do I owe this?” “Well, I suppose your father master Cliff?” Clifford exhaled and looked around at the imposing bookcases and portraits of his ancestors, each painted upon a 12 foot canvas. “Jarvis, who supports YM Magazine?” “Well, children, eh, that is to say, insecure girls, pre-women I suppose?” “And should they somehow slip away, who would buy YM Magazine then?” “Eh well, pedophiles and sexual deviants I suppose” Clifford took a sip of his bold cup of coffee and stirred his oatmeal demonstratively. “AND WHAT OF MAPLE SYRUP JARVIS? Will people need our condiment graces forever?” He was a powerful slick orator, with passion and a sweet disposition. “I only hope that we have done as much for the breakfast world as it has done for us.” He watched a mountie clip clop away into the distance across the vast Canadian tundra.