José Martí American Porter

Brewer: Cigar City Brewing, Tampa, FL

Beer Name: José Martí American Porter

Style: Porter

ABV: 8%

Today I left work at 3:30, went to the beach, watched the most spectacular sunset on the waters of the Bay, ate dinner at La Teresita's, and then came home to have this beer.

I have had several José Martí porters, and each time I drink one, I remember my past life as a Cuban revolutionary and fall in love with everyone in my life all over again.  

I've been wanting to review this beer for awhile now, but I get so overly emotional when I drink it that I was scared I'd come off sounding a bit loopy when I wrote the review.  So I apologize in advance for my bleeding-heart rambles.

This beer smells wonderfully of roasted malt and dark chocolate when you first pop off the cap.  A scent of raisin comes through underneath all of that, and if you close your eyes and remember childhood, then you even catch a nostalgic fragrance of an earthy cedar warmed by the central Florida summer sun.  Now Beer Advocate tells me that this brew is made with Pacific Northwest hops.  I don't even know what that ultimately means, but I will say this: I adore how these hops smell -- their scent interplays with the chocolate and I think that if I saw them in real life, I'd like to make a wreath of them, place it in my hair, and go climb a tree.

The porter pours an enticing black with a fluffy head of foam.  The foam is the color of coffee with way too much creamer in it, and it looks like something you'd eat with a spoon.  It's not a tall head, necessarily, but the foam itself is quite thick, if that makes any sense.  And it dissipates nicely to a thin coating of foam that leaves a tasty alcoholic film on my lip when I drink it.  Even though the beer is black at first glance, you can hold it up to the light and catch a seductive red glint the color of garnet in the corner of the pint glass.  And it has lots of pretty pieces of light colored sediments floating around it, asking you to drink them.  On top of all that sexiness, it leaves a really spectacular ecru lacing around the inside of your pint glass.

The first sip of this beer is really just a dark chocolate faerie dancing on your tongue with some lovely roasted malts.  And I get a taste of kona coffee that I didn't necessarily get in the smell, which makes for a decadent flavor combination.  And interestingly, those flowery hops are right there on the top.  But they aren't too bitter; their unruliness is kept in check by the more mature coffee and chocolate flavors underneath, making for a really superb balance of flavors. You know that feeling you get when you smell the remains of a campfire the next morning?  Cedary ashes that leave a lingering scent of what is now behind you?  Somehow, Cigar City Brewery took that feeling and mixed it into the aftertaste of this porter.  Which is quite appropriate.

But besides the tastes of coffee, dark chocolate, cedar, and roasted malt... this tastes like home.  It tastes like every person I've ever known, and every idea I've ever had, and every poem I've ever read.  It tastes rich, it tastes poor.  It tastes like Ybor, Birmingham, Jackson Hole, and the Outback.  It tastes like I want to cry whenever I drink it.

The perfect amount of carbonation leads to a sweet union of tongue and porter, making for a really lovely mouthfeel.  I'd be happy to have this brew linger on my lips for as long as it takes me to sort out every flavor it has to offer me.

As for the porter's drinkability, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who wouldn't enjoy drinking this.  However, having more than one in an evening might make you weep with longing for lives passed and lovers lost.

Photography, as always, compliments of the multi-talented and reptilian Cindiasaurus Rex.

Yo quiero salir del mundo
por la puerta natural:
en un carro de hojas verdes
a morir me han de llevar.
No me pongan en lo oscuro a morir como un traidor:
yo soy bueno, y como bueno
moriré de cara al sol.

I wish to leave the world
By its natural door;
In my tomb of green leaves
They are to carry me to die.
Do not put me in the dark
To die like a traitor;
I am good, and like a good thing
I will die with my face to the sun.

-A Morir [To Die] (1894), by José Martí 

Crazy Ed's Cave Creek Chili Beer

Brewer: Chili Beer Co., Cave Creek, AZ, though that's debatable. Maybe it's brewed in Tecate, Mexico, or maybe that's just a rumor started by Crazy Ed to make the beer seem more authentic.

Beer Name: Cave Creek Chili Beer

Style: Ale? Lager? ...oh wait, I see the style listed on the label there: "Beer."

ABV: Hell if I know; the bottle certainly doesn't make an effort to inform the drinker of its alcohol content. However, Beer Advocate tells me it's 4.20%... but I think they were trying to be cutsie.

Okay. I bought this beer about 2 weeks ago at Chuck's Health Food store in Temple Terrace. Now, I have nothing against Chuck's; I just find it amusing that they stock atrocious alcoholic beverages. I had a beer from there several months back that I bought because it claimed to be organic, but I almost couldn't finish it as it was brewed so sloppily.

Anyway, I purchased the Chili Pepper beer because... dammit, it has an ugly green serrano pepper floating in it. Not to mention, it was $1.79. Not to mention, it came in a clear bottle. Not to mention, it looked like apple juice (or maybe Corona, but aren't those one-in-the-same?).

I have been wanting to review the beer since I bought it because I knew it would make for a highly entertaining post, but I just haven't been able to bring myself to pour it. It's like going to the gynecologist... you know you need to do it but... yech.

I arrived at Cindy's house, Chili Beer in hand, and told her I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. I chose a nice pilsner glass to pour it into, in hopes of making it look at least somewhat appetizing. No such luck. I poured the brew into my pilsner glass, and watched the wrinkly serrano pepper slip out of the bottle at the end of the pour and land in the liquid with a rather sickening plop. The "head" was about 2 centimeters thick and lasted all of about 5 seconds.

Cindy set the glass and bottle next to one another and started to snap a few shots. In the meantime, I did a google search on the beer in hopes of finding some sort of information about it, since the bottle told me neither the beer style nor the alcohol content. I found the website for the brewer, and sat in stunned silence for several seconds after I pulled up the webpage. Go ahead, click it, you know you want to.

Before the beer's temperature could drop below "icy" (which is what I tried to serve it at), I grabbed it and tipped back a sip.

Dude.

I'm just saying... this is -- hands down -- the worst liquid I have ever had. And believe me, I have ingested a lot of liquids. (Take that as you will).

Okay, let's go through the standard categories:

Appearance: Come on, now. It has a nasty green serrano pepper in it. That's gotta count for something good, no? At least for novelty? However, the beer itself looks like piss. I give it a 3 out of 5 in terms of appearance.

Smell: This smells precisely like Corona with a chili pepper in it, and I said so to Cindy the second that I popped the cap off. Coincidentally, one of the reviewers on Beer Advocate said exactly the same thing (except he misspelled "chili").

Taste: I might say that (surprise!!) this tastes like Corona with a chili pepper in it. Actually, even without the chili pepper, the beer itself is (somehow) worse than a Corona. Fail. Epic, epic fail.

Mouthfeel: I'm sorry, but this literally hurts my mouth. And my tummy. It feels like oily, metallic hotsauce. This is the worst.

Drinkability: Two sips, my friend. I couldn't make it any further than two sips. And now I feel like I have to go to the bathroom.

Sam Smith's Winter Welcome

Brewer: Samuel Smith's Brewery, Tadcaster, Yorkshire, England

Beer Name: Samuel Smith's Winter Welcome Ale

Style: Ale

ABV: 6.0%

The first beer blog entry of 2011! How exciting. I am collaborating with Ms. Cynthia Lyons for artistic guidance and creative vision. Her mad camera skillz and my mediocre beer-related wit are sure to please a wide audience of beer blog readers!

I picked up this bottle of Sam Smith's Winter Welcome Ale several weeks ago, and had in fact forgotten that it was on the bottom shelf of my freezer until tonight, when I went poking around for a beer to drink and review. I suppose we welcomed winter on December 22, 2010, but it's still bloody cold here so we'll just go with it.

If I remember correctly, I purchased it from Whole Foods Market on Dale Mabry (at which I spend approximately $30 on beer per visit... so my visits are less frequent than I might otherwise desire). I paid $4.19 for this pint, which I suppose is a fair price for a delicious beer. =)

I scooped the bottle out of my fridge and headed to Cindy's. I popped open the cap and the beer immediately started to foam over; I suppose I shook it a little more than I should have during the route to Cindy's apartment.

I poured it into a glass tankard (as recommended here), and got a romantic medium brown color with a reddish tinge. The head, however, was unimpressive and quickly dissolved, leaving no lace behind. Hence the picture... with no head whatsoever. A quick side note: Cindy's roommate came home after I'd finished my beer and dipped into his own stash of winter ales... one of which happened to be this same brew. He popped his open and got a simply marvelous off-white head about an inch thick. I think my experience with lack-of-head is simply due to my carelessness in the beer's transport.

This brew smells of malty caramel and... plum, I suppose? Or at least a lovely little dark pitted fruit (or if you are a botanist, a "drupe"). I smell lots of yummy, sweet, and wintery spices coming out on the top of this beer. A nice ginger flavor floats around at the very top. What a deliciously inviting wintery loaf of bread this brew smells like, and it's reminiscent of wassail, too! Ah -- actually yes; I'd say this beer smells a bit like a piece of heavy winter wheat bread or fruit cake, topped with honey and a light dusting of spices on top of that, and baked til everything melded into a lovely homogenous bit of holiday yum. No hoppy smell is present, really, which excites me, even though Sam Smith's website tells me it's brewed with Fuggle and Golding hops. I might even say i smell metal? Weird.

The initial taste is rather on another plane than what the smell implied it would be. I do enjoy the smoothness due to lack of in-your-face hops, but it's a bit metallic in its aftertaste which is a little uncomfortable for me. I definitely have some of those plums coming through, which is pleasant.

...

.....

.......Well isn't this nice -- now that I've let it warm up a little, I enjoy the flavor more! I thought I was going to be disappointed in this beer but it's turning out to be lovely. It's become a bit chewier in its texture, and tastes like i should be eating it with a pot roast and yeast rolls.

I will say that for a winter warmer, the mouthfeel is a little crisper than i expected. The carbonation is high for me... but maybe Sam Smith's always is? I haven't had enough of it to know. The malts are what comes out mostly in the mouthfeel, with that little metallic aftertaste at the back of your throat once your swallow it.

As for drinkability, I can't imagine anyone who couldn't drink this beer, particularly after it warms just a bit (it seemed to be at its peak flavor about 25 or 30 minutes after i removed it from my refrigerator). The description on the bottle tells me that I should drink it in front of a wintery fireplace while contemplating its nuances and complexities, but i think i'd be just as happy to drink it on an autumn afternoon while having a lighthearted conversation with loved ones on my front porch. It's nuances and complexities are probably apparent mostly to the English. ;-)

I enjoyed this beer but don't know that I'd buy it on a yearly basis... last January I reviewed the Scaldis Noel seasonal. Now that is a beer that I look forward to drinking every winter.

Scaldis Noel

Brewer: Brasserie Dubuisson, Pipaix, Belgium
Beer Name: Scaldis Noël, or Bush De Noël
Style: Belgian Strong Dark Ale
ABV: 12.0% (!!)

I met an old friend for dinner and drinks on 12 December at Mr. Dunderbak's. I got there a bit early, and saw that they had a list of seasonal beers on draft. Scaldis Noël was one, so I promptly ordered it, mostly because the name is basically awesome (I admit it! I buy beers based on cool labels or quirky names!). I didn't ask was the ABV was, which I should have thought to do, especially as I only ordered a soft German pretzel to hold me over while waiting for my friend. Needless to say, by the time he arrived, I was halfway through my beer and very nicely buzzed.

I scribbled my notes on the back of a Publix receipt. After much digging through scraps of paper in my room, I've found it:

"The color is a beautiful deep brown, reminiscent of dried cloves. However, there's not much of a head. I don't know if this is because a bit of time has passed inbetween it being poured and served, or if it just doesn't have much of a head to begin with. Either way, I am sort of disappointed in that aspect, but at least it was served in an awesome heavy glass chalice, which is my favorite sort of glass to sip a beer out of. =)

It smells of yummy holiday fruits -- raisins, cherries, apples. And festive spices! Certainly cloves and nutmeg.

It has a deep, rich, bready flavor. I could chew on this beer. It sort of reminds me of the alt bier by Pinkus that I had the other day -- it's got a nice apple undertone, and lives up to its holiday namesake by entertaining my tongue with lots of flavorful seasonal spices like the cloves and nutmeg that I initially smelled.

The Noël has a wonderful warming sensation; it's a perfect brew for the holidays!

This hit me fast; I wonder what the ABV is? I'm a little hesitant to stand up and find out! Haha."

Yeah, no wonder it hit me fast! 12.0% on an empty stomach is a bit much.

This was such an interesting ale; I did a bit of research on it for your reading pleasure!:

It's made at a little Belgian brewery called Brasserie Dubuisson in the French-speaking part of Belgium called Wallonia. This website told me that Scaldis is made in the hamlet of Pipaix, in the Hainaut province of Wallonia. Apparently, the beer is known as Bush De Noël in Belgium and about 40 other European countries, where that name has been trademarked. But the name Bush was unable to be trademarked in various other countries (including America, it would seem; I'd speculate because of the Anheuser Busch company), so it goes by Scaldis Noël instead.

The brew has 281 reviews on Beer Advocate, where it's been given an overall grade of B+, which I find entirely silly. This is an A beer in my book, I loved it! Drinkable, despite its 12% ABV; seasonally tasty but not syrupy; and delightfully warming. =)

Bornem Triple Abbey Ale

Brewer: Brouwerij Van Steenberge, Belgium
Beer Name: Bornem Triple Abbey Ale
Style: Tripel (strong pale ale)
ABV: 9.0%

One day this weekend, and I'm not sure which day (because over the past week, my schooling, working, sleeping, eating, and videochatting have all melded together into one huge indiscernible mess of hours), I decided to buy lots and lots of beer. Because that way, I wouldn't have to make multiple beer runs throughout the week (efficiency is my main goal in life).

Anyhow, I went to my usual beer spot, Mr. Dunderbaks, and I picked three lovely brews, which I will save for later posts. But then I remembered that one time, I had fantastic beer luck at the ABC Liquor store just a little further down the road (and admittedly, their prices were better, too). So I hopped in the car and took a little trip down Fletcher Ave. And I must say, I made a good decision, my friends.

I bought a 6-pack of different Belgian beers, all brewed at the same brewery: brouwerij Van Steenberge. ...Embarrassingly, I can't remember how much I paid for it, but I will say this: I remember being thrilled at how (relatively) little I was paying for each beer, compared to what I'd just spent at Dunderbak's.

Tonight, I decided to crack open the tripel ale (there is a dobbel in the pack, as well).

Good call... good call.

I came in from work tonight, after nine hours in front of a computer screen. I threw down my purse and briefcase (which I tote around only to increase my professional appearance... really I just cart around skittles and fun-size twix bars in it), peeled off my pants, walked to the kitchen, and in my trousersocked-feet and rather conservative knit sweater, I promptly poured the contents of the 330ml stubby bottle into my Waterloo records pint glass... though I'd have poured it into a tulip glass if I'd have had one.

What a lovely mist drifted out of the top of the bottle right before I poured it! And a lovely aroma, too -- definitely a typical Belgian tripel abbey scent: rich yeastiness and a mild fruity/citrusy undertone. If witbier weren't my favorite sort of beer, I might say that abbey ales were. Anyway, I couldn't even pour the entire 330ml into my pint glass, at least not all at one time, because the fluffy, off-white head was so thick. Which was a very welcome change, compared to my last two entries. You can see in the picture that even after I managed to pour the entire thing into my pint glass, the head still poked up over the top. I must admit -- and maybe this makes me an 8-year-old -- overly fluffy heads are my weakness when it comes to beer. It's like I'm eating alcoholic cotton candy! Anyway, this head was quite lovely, and persisted for ages (like 8 or 10 minutes). Unsurprisingly, it left pretty rings of ecru lace around the inside of my glass as I drank the brew. The ale was a fantastic, consistently deep golden brown throughout, and it was very, very clear. I don't think there was any sediment.

Once the head finally went down enough for me to actually drink the beer, I was happily content with its taste. Yes, the beer is a bit dry and a bit alcoholic (but come on, it's a tripel!). But I liked it very much! One forum stated that it had a nice banana finish, which I tasted once it was pointed out to me. I might not have picked up on it otherwise.

The taste was a bit off toward the end of me drinking it; but to be fair, I spent over an hour on it because I kept getting distracted with other things like making a bite of dinner, checking email, and giggling at myself for no real reason (it was a 9% beer, after all).

I would buy this again, certainly. In my less-than-expert opinion, I'd say that St. Bernardus makes a better-tasting tripel, but the head on this beer was to die for. =)

Oh, excellent!

Thanks to to an online article from the Washington City Paper (which laid out for me the differences between beer geekiness and beer snobbiness), I found an exceptionally clear and well-thought-out guide to all terms beer-related.

Win!

Now I can sound less uninformed when I write about beer. =D

Pinkus Organic Munster Alt Beer

Brewer: Brauerei Pinkus Muller, Munster
Beer Name: Original Munster Alt Beer
Style: Alt Beer
ABV: 5.10%, but I didn't see that on the bottle!!

I purchased this delectable organic altbier at the same time as the Georg Schneider's Wiesen Edel-Weissen, from precisely the same bottom corner of the same bottom shelf at Mr. Dunderbak's. And so I was a bit worried about the freshness of the beer, but hoooooooly cow I shouldn't have worried my little head! This beer wins.

I paid $4.99 for 500 mL (a metric pint, which, thrillingly, does not fit into my Waterloo Records pint glass). The bottle is cheery and red, with fun black and white antique-y photos of people I can only assume boast the last name of Pinku.

I smelled the brew before I even poured it, and for a moment, I thought that I'd accidentally picked up a Lindeman's Cherry Lambic. Delicious cherries!! Oh, it smelled phenomenal. After my initial shock, I admitted that the cherry smell wasn't as strong as it would be in a kriek, but the distinct smell was still there. I poured a beautiful nutmeg-colored beer into my pint glass, which had a nice little foamy head (though not quite as nice as some other beer sites have made it out to be... which could simply be a consequence of -- again -- me picking up a beer from the back corner of the very bottom shelf at the store).

This altbier's taste made me want to hold the brew in my mouth and swish it around for a bit before I swallowed it... delicious. It tasted how it looked and how it smelled: it had a yummy (and appropriately seasonal) undertone of a deep red fruit and a subtly crushed nutty spice. Incredible. The first sip floored me, and I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the drink. I thought it held its flavor quite well, even through my distractions in the kitchen and with a drop-in guest. It probably took me over an hour to drink the whole thing, and I relished the last, somewhat sediment-y, drop just as much as I did the very first.

I had never heard of an altbier until I purchased this one, and Beer Advocate told me that it was a Dusseldorf specialty brown ale. It also told me that an alt beer is smooth and delicate, which both my boyfriend and I sort of scoffed at. How can a brew be delicate? Oh, but it is, my friends. It is. What a delicious mellowed and smooth brew it is! I don't know how to tell you what it means for it to be "delicate"... it just is. Very delicate, very lacey and soft, and very faerie-like. I could easily drink two or three of these in one sitting.

The Merchant du Vin webpage suggests serving this with cured ham, sweetbreads, or lasagna, all of which sound like they would be very much enhanced with a bottle of this sweet nectar. =) Next time, I'll be sipping on this with a dinner of vegetarian lasagna and cuban bread, instead of greedily cracking it open after a long day at work, and then downing it like a parched wanderer.

Liquid love. =)