I went to Manhattan once. It was loud and humid and everything was needlessly expensive and people ran like Korean commuters everywhere. On that trip I tried some random gems that I picked up at some liquor stores in the village, with a staggering markup. The KBS bottle that I enjoyed was $9.59 for a single 12oz bottle. Ruminate on that one Michigan, the next time you think about complaining. Anyway, let’s get all into Monsters in today’s review:
Brooklyn Monster Ale
English Barleywine, 10.1% abv
A: Deep amber hues with transparency, no lack of clarity, nice middle bubbles, medium carbonation, bubbles that stand firm like an undergrad’s convictions, albeit lacking substance, not unlike an undergrad’s conviction.
S: It has a thinner character than most American barley wine profiles but the understated notes are good, some cherries and currant on the nose, Oak, ginger and caramel in the waft. It comes across like a halfway home between American and English barleywines, really, master of jacking trades for none. It is interesting but nothing earth shattering. Earth remains unsheltered, albeit, not unimpressed.
T: The taste really lacks the fruit aspects and has some grape skin, plums, woody dryness, and an herbal hop finish to it. Maybe some barrel aging would have done this more justice, however, it seems lacking in a distinct note to it given the traditional aspects but, no one ever complains while driving a Honda Accord, they just wish for a Lambo.
M: It is much thinner than I expected for the ABV and maybe the lack of maltiness is an attempt to embrace the English side, but, then again I hate when English people do things. They just end up more unreliable and expensive, by my experience. So, is the mouthfeel of this Aston Martin worth the entry price? Yes. Could you spend your time on a bolder more experienced barley wine? Sure. Again, this is a solid beer, a welcome extra, but not something I would seek out, living 3500 miles from its blast radius.
D: It is exceptionally drinkable as a result of the mild malts, thin mouthfeel, great hop character, and juicy dark fruit. It feels similar to a watered down quad more than a barley wine but, here I am just complaining about my struggle buggy while a SIDNEY BICHET SONG IS ON!
Narrative: “Oh god, they know, they have to know.” Chet Warrington was breathing deeply in the presence of his inlaws. “Allo! Es quite a oice moyning eh soire!” His faux cockney accent resonated through the stone archway with an echoing falseness. His father in law sipped his Earl Grey tea knowingly and utter slowly, “My dear son, I fear not your intention, but cast upon this trepidation, it is ceremony redux outright.” Chet tried to casually laugh off the statement utter to him, which he had no idea how to interpret. These coy englishmen were so dapper, so poised, but so difficult to grasp. “Eres a lump of tea et ees!” He recreated his character from Pygmalion impeccably and smiled a goofy smile to the Earl whose crisp Burberry suit remained uncreased. The lesson he learned from this whole debacle was that it was a fool’s errand to emulate the English, for they were all knowing, and inimitable.