Monthly Archives: September 2012

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The Brew Kettle Taproom White Rajah IPA, All Hail this Indian Master

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Time to swing the old geography around to show Ohio some love for something other than eating competitions and the award for most Big Dog t-shirts sold per capita. This beer pops up every once in a while on the top 100 and I figured I would give the midwest a shrift to see how their big guns stack up against California IPAs.

White Rajah is within the same lineage as Maharaja from beers that just toss around Indian terms with careless abandon.

White Rajah IPA
The Brew Kettle Taproom & Smokehouse / Production Works
Ohio, United States

Style | ABV
American IPA | 6.80% ABV

A: Deep orange with amber hues in the center, 1/2 finger carbonation, moderate lacing, a bit darker than most ipas, but a bit cloudier. Single IPAs are kinda like telling your friends about the hot Korean girl that you met, all adjectives make it end up seeming more pedestrian and unimpressive as a result.

IPA cant be walez, hurr derrr.

S: There is a bright aggressive hop profile, cirtusy and bitter to the nose. Not quite overbearing in the juniper/herbal notes, but still that pesky pine pokes its head in like an uncircumsized penis, all conspicuous and out of place.

T: This beer has a very balanced hop profile, not overbearing, not entirely cirtusy either, very light with a quick bitter finish, a profile that transfers from lemon to grassy and are similar to those other poorly done imperial/double IPAs, without a long standing lingering hop profile. Those god. damn. pinecones round things out and just overstay their welcome. This is pretty robust for a single IPA, but not my favorite offering when Sculpin and some other stellar IPAs are available on the reg.

When you have a nice, sessionable IPA, you get this warm hoppy feeling like snugs from a baby sloth.

M: The mouthfeel is exactly where it should be for the style, light finish with a biscuity middle to it that lingers for a bit, doesnt overcoat the mouth so that you welcome the next sip, almost to the point of drinking it too fast. I prefer this to many other jankier double IPAs because I feel like I can drink this without so much of a traumatic profile and continue to keep ruining people’s shit on Puzzle Quest.

D: I dont usually throw this around, but its an incredibly drinkable beer, it feels like a bolder pale ale simply due to its Trojan horse character that sends the abv and aggressive fast moving hops right into the Troy of your mouth. I am certainly able to drink well beyond the 12oz bottle and I think 3 would be perfect to get ready for a custody hearing. It’s an even more dangerous candidate given the relatively afforable price. Good luck finding a series of bottles to support that endeavor. I enjoy this beer but in LA its not too simple to find this beer, or even at all, so slap the Fedex guy on the ass and tell him to move bricks in the trap.

Too many IPAs will put your liver on swole, knock you down like a Goldberg spear.

Narrative: They said that after the nuclear war, there would be no vegetation, no life, just nuclear winter. How ironic, those shortsigted botanists, if they only knew. The hop plant thrives on depleted uranium. The nuclear war didn’t produce endless expanses of rubble, it created a lush verdant world covered in hop flowers. It stings my eyes to go outside with all the hop oils in the air and I leave the communal well smelling like Burning Man. I guess this is God’s sick joke, cover the earth in a beautiful, fragrant, unusable flower, what with all the malt and barley dead. Talk about peanut butter with no jam. Hopmageddon affected us all, but it affected Chardonnay drinkers worst of all.

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Russian River Toronado 25th Anniversary, Don’t Tell Me You Forgot Our Anniversary, Baby

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I feel like Toronados is the golden baby of the beer bar world. I swear that anytime that this place has an anniversary, bris, or restructuring of their corporate board, breweries find some damn reason to shower them with .rar walez. Alpine made a double batch of Nelson to celebrate and I MISSED OUT ON IT. But oh well, let’s see what Russian River has up their sleeve in today’s review.

Throw some 25’s on the whip, barrel blend is so sick.

T25
Russian River Brewing Company
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 8.75% ABV

Toronado 25th Anniversary Ale started out as six individual brews, each with their own personality, and all incorporating Brettanomyces and or micro-organisms. Once the barrel aging was complete, Russian River’s Vinnie Cilurzo and Toronado’s David Keene got together to create the final blend. To create its fine carbonation, we re fermented the Toronado 25th Anniversary Ale in this bottle. Spent yeast cells from a thin layer of sediment in the bottom of the bottle. Pour slowly, allowing the natural yeast sediment to remain in the bottle.

Blend:
4% Sonambic (barrel aged for 15 months)
16% Blonde Ale (barrel aged for 8 months)
36% Strong Pale Ale (barrel aged 12 months)
28% Ale Aged with Currants (barrel aged for 8 months)
12% Strong Dark Ale (barrel aged for 12 months)
4% Baltic Porter (barrel aged for 10 months)

A: See all that going on up there? The result is a translucent orange hue with mild wispy carbonation that crackles and disappears slowly. This isn’t a particularly BEAUTIFUL beer like say, Ithaca Brute, but it has its own subtle charms, like that snaggletoothed woman in accounts receivable who always holds the elevator for you.

This blend got mad swag, gangnam steeze to the fullest.

S: This has a fantastic lactic smell to it that reminds me of Hill Farmstead Norma, since almost none of my readers have had that I GUESS I HAVE TO SAY MORE. There are aspects of cherries, orange rind, currants, fuji apples, and grapefruit juice. I don’t think that the Baltic Porter is pulling mad weight in the barrel as it seems to be incredibly acidic.

T: This is incredibly tart with a sort of refined Red Bull sort of sweetness to it that works well with the acidic profile. While cold, this beer is kinda one dimensional in the way that Beatification is just a 2D sour, but once it hits around 60 degrees the 3D glasses come on in a real way and you get a huge crisp and bright panoply of tart fruits.

This beer will get you rolling so hard.

M: This is puckering and very dry similar to an aged Temptation, let’s say b4. You get the oak and some lingering harshness but it welcomes another sip. The carbonation crackles and hits that gumline hard like Kimbo Slice, and the barrel be wood like a baseball bat.

D: This is insouciantly dry and doesn’t give a fuck if you can’t handle the puckering profile but ultimately, like a 14 year old girl I keep returning for this beer’s affection. It has a car. Ultimately, I wish this was a regular release amongst the other regular “-tions” but given how complex it is, I UNDERSTAND. Taking this beer to a bar with beer nerds present is kinda like getting your clit pierced at Claire’s, no one is exactly mad, but everyone is curious as fuck what you are up to.

This beer is daunting but completely satisfying.

Narrative: I dont quite understand Jacob, why is it that everyone wants to fight you?” You roll your eyes and offer this explanation once again “Alright fine, I got the same name as 5 other though kids in school and my dad is an MMA fighter and my mom is a WNBA player, those two people got beat up nonstop.” A sour taste fills your mouth knowing the struggle that you have faced on a daily basis. He looks puzzled and you stare at the principal’s snowglobe of Alberta and try to form a different explanation. “Alright, it’s like this see, if you wanna define yourself, sometimes you gotta be the bad guy, do things no one else does, like fight the girls softball team all at once…you see….no? Ok, so I got the same name and two bad as-” “LANGUAGE JACOB” “ok so I got two tough parents, so to prove my dominance, I go around trying things no one else does, milk enemas, eating lightbulbs, you know guy stuff, trying to prove my worth.” The tightness in your neck turns into a light acidity in your stomach. You have something to prove. It became clear that your laundry list of exploits was not exactly carrying the day for Principal Schlegel. “Alright to prove I am the baddest kid in school with the two roughest parents, I am gonna have sex with that Alberta snowglobe, see?” “That’s not necessary, you are suspended, get out of my office Jacob.”

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Three Floyd’s Bourbon Barrel Dark Lerd, ERMAGERD DERK LERD BERNBAN BERRAHL.

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I think we already know how I feel about the BASE BEER for this beer. However, the vanilla bourbon version was amazing. Another top 100 bites the dust. Let’s see how this bourbon banger holds up and how far it strays from that sticky sweet base beer in its roots.

The bottle count was 420 brah, so sick. Straight up 7th grader walez brah.

Three Floyds Brewing Co. & Brewpub
Indiana, United States
Russian Imperial Stout | 15.00% ABV

A: As dark as Satan’s magic, a thick black darkness with a dark khaki head to it, everything about this just proclaims obscure undoing. The head takes forever to subside and the murky depths below allow no light to pass through, not even at the edges or bottom. Oil. I don’t remember the base beer being this thick but it starts to lean towards the Abyss and Huna levels.

You like bourbon? rare beers? char? roast? sweetness? 15% abv?
Well then prepare your anus.

S: theres the expected coffee and toffee but also a tiramisu smell or a rye bread in there as well, complex in the overlapping smells, but the alcohol is well integrated. God damn, I could smell this beer until it was oxidized and flat, holding the limp corpse of the beer that used to be. It was like when Sugar Ray’s “FLY” came out, WHAT A GREAT SONG, you just couldn’t get enough of it. Except this beer is actually good and Mark McGrath is a jizz waffle.

T: The mild sweetness from the base beer sets in first with a gentle macaroon and vanilla that is so gully so hood. Next up is light oak char bitterness and toasty smokiness, next a coffee and toffee finish rounds out the taste. Very aggressive in every aspect, but so balanced and in onctrol, it’s like getting your ass beat by a series of different martial arts in a matter of seconds. The middle chocolate dryness is aggressive and I would liken this to bourbon barrel Plead the 5th in a big way.The alcohol is the first to come but the complex sweet and roast start pounding on your tongue just as hard. it’s over in 5 seconds but with serious residual taste. Just like every single Craiglist date that you have been on.

This beer fills me with too. much. want.

M: It coats like cough syrup, if you drank this at 8 am, it would be with you almost until lunchtime, also if you drank this at 8 am you have issues that I cant wrap my head around. Very thick, chewy, like liquid chocolate that you can just feel making residence in your gumline like those mucinex characters, only brown, and with presspots of coffee. really over the top. Then add in a third layer of

D: In some respects, very drinkable, its a warming, thorough drink that hits so many notes youd appreciate it regardless, however, anyone who has more than 2 of these is a liar, or has demons that we cant comprehend. It is aggressive, but gentle, absurd, yet refined. You want to introduce your Vietnamese girlfriend to your parents, but her bourbon barrel face tattoo might be too extreme for them. BUT THAT IS JUST HOW YOU LIKE IT.

Packing all these Fedex boxes wears me out, but is worf it.

Narrative: The threadbare pallor of the bone throne was welcoming, and cool to the touch. “The vassals are ready my liege” he spoke through baited smoky breath, thick with mist. “SEND THEM IN” proclaimed the necromancer as he wet his undead throat with a…ok I just…I can’t
“you can’t what?”
“Just keep with the script”
He exhaled, knowing he true intent, a soul as black as murky depths, the production assistant with hatred flowing through his veins, encouraged and strenthened with every fetched latte, piercing darkness with every pejorative hurled his way. “I just..the script”
“OH YOU JUST? WHY DONT YOU JUST STICK TO YOUR JOB” the director ejaculated with scarring epithets. “SOON MY DARK MASTER SOON” he clutched an amethyst pendant and embraced the darkening of his soul. The third coming of the Kentucky Pazuuzu Bourbon God would soon be upon humanity, and only this one dude at Panera would be spared from the 9 snarling jaws of relentless masticatio- “COME ON! They are BAGELS, not ROCKET SCIENCE!”