Monthly Archives: February 2012

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Block 15 Imagine, I can’t IMAGINE a better stou-

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Toot toot, here comes the hype train. This beer was matured 9 & 21 months in bourbon barrels, there were 40 cases produced, released at the pub every other year, most recently November 2011. You can TASTE THE RARE. Tastes like Fedex bills.

This beer originally came in a fancy box, wrapped in fancy paper, in a..blank bottle? It's like a girl who wears Marciano but has no work done. Mislabeled.

Block 15 Imagine, Russian Imperial Stout, 15% abv

A: This doesn’t have a heavy oppressive look to it, a nice shiny wateriness similar to czar jack and where that 15% abv is hiding, I have no clue. There’s mild bubbles with a bit of 1/2″ lacing. The appearance is pretty tame and could be mistaken for a single stout, if you want to write on your friend’s face later. This beer has purpose. UNLESS IT IS JUST MY IMAGINATION.

At first, no one in Oregon would trade me this beer and I was all like-

S: This smells like the inside of a See’s candy factory, or what I imagine the inside of an Econoline van if I were 9 and blindfolded. There’s a huge fudge, brownie batter, just Charleston Chew, sticky gooey taffy, and a mild hint of bourbon. I IMAGINED that there would be a huge heat on this but, IT WAS JUST MY IMAGINATION.

T: There is a great chocolate initial taste that presents a sticky bake sale presence and you know it was the ultra hot soccer mom with no responsibilities that made it. The skillset is distinctively domestic. There’s a nutty almond middle to this and a light warming bourbon sensation at the end. I THOUGHT IT WOULD TASTE LIKE BOURBON BARREL PLEAD THE 5th BUT-, ok you get the bit? Alright. Moving on. IMAGINE PUNS.

Sometimes you get a bourbon barrel stout that is all sassy and silly, this is not the case, turn the above picture into an angry Samoan man who runs the yard with a substantial shank.

M: The mouthfeel is just light enough and doesn’t boss my palate around. It sticks just a bit, washes away with a bit more tenacity than Czar Jack and Stone IRS, but it doesn’t set up a homestead like Abyss or Black Tuesday, it handles it business like Juvenile and gets the fuck out of the game. You get your chocolate and bourbon, like that foul temptress barista, and then you’re on to drive a City Bus for a living, man shit.

D: This is scary drinkable and looks down its nose at Dark Lord and wags a knowing finger at my other favorite heavy hitter, Martes Negro. But then again, how drinkable is a beer that they made like 550 bottles of? OH I AM SORRY CAPTAIN MONEYBAGS. Enjoy your Block 15 hoard.

You think 15% is just a number, and then the colony drop happens after you kill 12 oz.

Narrative: Walter Percoletti crafted his homestead lovingly and dug his irrigation trenches deep. Some onlookers told him that the Salinas Valley was no place for cocoa beans and a whiskey distillery. “Kate! Turn that Usher CD down and get over here to the primary ditch!” The bitter beans stained the soil and soul a deep chocolate brown. The hardpan arose only 3 feet down and below that, God knows it could have been meteorite, the entire Salinas valley held a bed of carbon and sea sediment. The grain for the whiskey in the deep harsh central California summers were not faring any better. “Papa! Come quick! One of them stills done boiled over, Cotton Eye boiled a deep chocolate solution in the sour mash and done ruined the entire whiskey batch. The entire plume smelled of fudge and child rapists, drawing all of the children and local towns people to gaze at the billowing whiskey clouds. Cannery Row never felt the same with a malaise of deep bourbon and espresso raining down upon their GEORGE LENNY BLACK PEARL DUSTBOWL META TAG OVERLOAD.

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Cigar City Hunahpu’s Imperial Stout, The Sweetest Chocolate Comes from Florida

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Well with the Huna release approaching fast, I thought it would be good to look back on the O.G. 2011 classic. There’s a ton of barrel variants of this but many people opine that this is still the most legit. WE SHALL SEE.

Dark and sweet like a 2 Live Crew video. Lots of hea-

Cigar City Hunahpus, Imperial Stout, 11.5% abv

A: This is the darkest beer that I have ever seen, dethroning the noble Abyss and Black Tuesday’s of the world. It is jet black like spent motor oil and you can see its weight when it hits the glass and coats like chocolate Robitussin. The carbonation is amazing and produces microscopic tan bubbles that are a deep mahogany color. Mama put on the finest wares for the funeral, because this beer slays other stouts WITHOUT A BARREL.

This beer keeps it gangster. But in an amiable way.

S: This is an incredibly multifaceted stout on the nose profile and well worth the hype. It has a cinnamon finish with huge coffee dryness that is mellowed out by great cocoa nibs. There’s a vanilla and toffee that start getting their grope, olfactory overload finish.

T: The front of the beer is a nice sweetness like melted chocolate, the coffee sets up the entire middle of this beer with a boozy dryness. The finish has a cinnamon and nutmeg sort of taste to it. I didn’t think that the booziness was disturbing and can’t really imagine this beer improving over time, but we shall see. Wait no we wont because I will end up drinking every bottle that I get immediately. I love this beer.

This beer is the opposite of what this guy is doing. He is failing in inverse proportion to the win of this beer.

M: This has such incredible coating that hits the palate and just expands with coffee oiliness. I could imagine my teeth having a nice darkness to them not unlike a girl from Arizona State. It lingers with a nice complexity along the gumline that is like ringing a sticky chocolate bell that sets up shop and has no intention of leaving, not unlike a girl from Arizona State.

D: This is huge, complex, and angry; that being said, I would readily request a second bomber right away. It is not exactly refreshing, but it feels like a decadent treat. It almost feels too indulgent with all of the coffee, bourbon, and chocolate going on. If someone walked in on me drinking this to myself I would feel content but a little abashed at going on an Agustus Gloump rampage.

I need more of this stout, always. Because fuck you.

Narrative: “Your excellence, the cocoa provisions are running alarmingly low.” The counsel elder prostrated pleadingly. “At this rate, the tribe will have no sweet treats for the forthcoming Pukami Blessing festival.” Lord Hunahpu lowered his head shamefully, his mouth smeared with chocolate nibs. “THEN THE PUKAMI BLESSING MUST WAIT.” He pushed his thick fingers into the clay pot and pushed another mouthful of the coffee and cocoa bean blend into his gullet. “Myem, and if, the villagers protest, myem, tell them there was a, gulp, crop failure.” His decadence was too much for the rations of the small tribe. Suddenly a black murky puddle seeped out of the tiles within the floor of the palace. “PUKAMI COMETH!” the counsel elder shouted with reticence. The deep oily murkiness fired a milk chocolate beam at Lord Hunahpu for his gluttony and cast him in a solid chocolate shell. The counsel elder ran and was instructed by Pukami not to look back. He turned his head and saw Lord Hunahpu frozen in delicious stasis. He was turned into a pillar of salted chocolate. “PUKAMI CARES NOT FOR YOUR LOT!” echoes through the palace and he melted back into the floor.

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Alpine Brewing Company, Pure Hoppiness, For When Hoppy Birthday isn’t enough, but Exponential Hoppiness is Too Much

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More plugs for Alpine brewing this week and another amazing DIPA that is frustratingly hard to find these days. Used to be you could walk into a Whole Foods, give Fabio a high five and pick up a couple bottles of this. Now people on the east coast have a thirst for unbalanced hops and OUR HOP ECONOMY IS IN SHAMBLES.

Double that IPA, get that PUR h0p1n3$$ shyt g0i1n

Alpine Brewing, Pure Hoppiness, 8% abv, double IPA

A: Nice deep gold tones, great cabonation, spider webbing from the lacing with no middle carbonation. Looks like discontent apple juice. Apples that be all pissed and frothy.

The purity of the hops will reincarnate your soul.

S: Huge bouquet from a mile away, great citrus but pine and forest predominates. I love that Alpine is almost always, well Alpine. The smell is a fantastic balance between the juiciness of most DIPAs and the herbal notes from malty Imperial IPAs. IF YOU’RE WONDERING WHEN TO START WANTING IT, NOW IS A GOOD TIME.

T: Awesome hybrid of initial notes, there’s a tinge of herbal mixed with citrus. The citrus ends up riding out the party and the drying forest finish is present in the swallow. All around a great melange of the two styles. It feels like if Pliny and Maharaja had a love child. This would be the result and unsurprisingly, it is delicious. But that would never happen, most historical pundits believe Pliny the Elders homose- alas I digress.

Get all carried away with that hop blast and you forget about the 8% abv and you be all lookin like dis.

M: The mouthfeel is light with creamy coating. Great carbonation boosts the hops into the nostrils creating a create hop profile. Great maltiness that is not overdone. It’s a hot tub of hop oils all up in my bubbling mouthhole and THE BOTTOMS ARE COMING OFF.

D: This beer is really high on this note. The expansive character spread hop stickiness like a virus and your mouth is the better for it. The abv is hidden well and you could drink this in plenty of circumstances from grooming your dog, spot welding, watching past episodes of Burn Notice. The choices are endless.

You know it is the middle child, but you respect it nonetheless, interesting and good at science or whatever middle children are good at, not the baby, not the one who gets pregnant first. I am ok with that.

Narrative: The year was 2145, but that seems like just yesterday, well since they harnessed the photon retractor, everything seems like the yesterday of tomorrow. Let me explain. Corporal William Herboreal had been working as the ships botanist on an experimental mission to Titan, one of the outer moons of, well that’s not important. Upon discovering a new strain of humulus lupus, an advanced strain of hops, the oil was potent enough to power the ship, too powerful even. We cascade through time and sheered the space barrier in a way that even Immanuel Kant couldn’t’ have predicted. THE HOPS WERE TOO INTEGRATED. He kept feeding hops to the engine, its juniper rancor filling the cabin. But now we have crossed the line, fallen through time, living in the land of the hops. Yes we are living in the land of the hops.