The black majick series remains one of my favorite staples of the stout world. Some may remember that I liked but didn’t love the rye iteration and fanbois from the PAjotenland stretched out their nutsacks like silly putty in discord. Fear not, this one came back on the scene pounding hard. The thing that Voodoo, and in a similar vein, Fremont, do so well is capture the essence of the barrel without hitting that back cervix wall of oversaturation. I imagine its eschewing the North Carolina trend of using a single cask and a fiscal quarter of aging time that prevents that phoned in profile we are often subject to. The adhesion on this beer is immense and it feels like it has young and old casks back blended in to preserve this batter sweetness, while still presenting a Diageo dusty barrel profile. If you have ever had some old ND bourbons there’s that weird stale meets butterscotch that is tasty. It’s like finding a rolo in the pocket of some jeans that have been through the wash.
The saccharine elements never dominate and there’s a lively macaroon presence underpinning the gurgling petroleum crude underneath. A bit of me feels unfair to always hold these against the Pappy iteration, as that is a top 5 stout of all time for me. It’s like waiting for dad to come home only to have someone explain later what an “outstanding warrant” is. Cue the baseball glove pounding, curbside sitting. “Buffalo Trace” always mystifies me in barrel sourcing because, a part of me wonders if this means anything in the BTAC ambit, regular ass BT, or wut. Regardless, this has a massive stave pumping saturation and the oak shines magnificently through a toasty roasty base. I enjoy this much more than the original Buffalo Trace offering, not like any of the new money currency dipshits tried that any way. Very polished and a testament to upward trajectory that this brewery has set for its barrel program that already abuts the ceiling, figuratively and literally.