I guess it was simply a matter of time for this development to occur. Extreme beer recipes have been the rage in certain circles: the imperials, as it were, whether it was India Pale Ale, Helles Lager, Pumpkin Ale, Barley Wine kicked up to notches unknown, etc… But leave it to the independent Scots at Brew Dog Brewery, to take Ice Beer to a brand new level.
Tactical Nuclear Penguin begins life as a 10% Imperial Stout, then gets double cask aged for 16 months, the first eight months in a Isle of Arran whisky barrel, then transferred for the remainder to an Islay cask. After that, it is stored at -20 degrees for 3 weeks. The result? 32% alcohol by volume ale. The world’s strongest beer.
News of this release made me recall the conversation I had with B. United International president, Matthias Neidhart, some 14 years ago, when he described for me how Eisbock was produced. Where the beer is stored in very cold temperatures and the ice formed is removed, and then stored (or lagered) for many many months. A reinheitsgebot description of German invented ice bier. A much more elaborate process than that which is employed to make Icehouse, Labatt Ice, in North America.
Concentrated flavor is what this is all about. A fine example to compare would be Schneider & Sohn’s Aventinus and their Aventinus Eisbock.
But the folks at Brew Dog it seems, have decided to further expand the definition of ice brewing.
At one time, exceptionally aged and strong beer meant Hurlimann Samiclaus or Kulmbacher Eisbock or Scaldis Noel. But this was before Brew Dog’s Tactical Nuclear Penguin or Samuel Adams Utopia.
Strength has always come as a bit of a shock to the American beer drinker. After decades of mainly weak, cereal adjunct, mass produced beer. The re-introduction of flavorful brew was indeed a mini-revolution, to that small segment of beer seekers now often referred to as  craft brew fans. But I think that ice beers were (and still are) quite significant amongst the larger beer drinking population. Before ice beer, there was only malt liquor, a dubious term used to refer to high gravity corn lager, ( which also went through a bit of transformation, when established brands such as Schlitz and Colt 45, introduced higher gravity versions.)
There is a novel effect to strong beers. This attraction has been partially enhanced by ridiculous state alcohol laws that prohibit their sale. Some of the legends that I am sure, some readers remember having for the first time: Carlsberg Elephant, Sierra Nevada Big Foot,  Stone Double Bastard, etc… I am sure some folks have fond memories of those encounters. Like recalling the first time they drank a shot of Jagermeister liquor!
I learned quite awhile ago that strength alone can not be the final arbiter when determining the quality of a beer. If imperial and extreme become the only criteria, they you going to automatically deprive yourself of my flavorful experiences. In other words, Milk Stout, for example is not suppose to knock you out of your chair. In fact many stouts of moderate strength, are there to remind you that beer is food and if hootch is really what you are seeking, they many other avenues.

Okay, I do not want this to be a downer, but reality reveals the economy has come up short and money continues to dry up and blow away. Not good for the quality beer drinker, who see their favorite brands being yanked up up a dollar or more, and this being a dusty summer, what can a thirsty seeker do? Well, first there is the inexpensive beers: mostly adjunct grain lagers, sometimes with added ferment-ables, or ice brewed, for a bit more of a kick. Then there are those renowned retrospective classics: Pabst Blue Ribbon, Burger Classic, Old Milwaukee, etc… forget the aesthetics of glass bottles, the aluminum can will have to do. Despite the disparaging of beer in a can, the Ball corporation produces what is undoubtedly one the most efficient packages in the world, with a water based coating that completely eliminates the possibility of any metallic flavor, since the beer never actually touches the aluminium.
Beer is somewhat expensive in the state of Ohio. For economic classification, I’ll start with beer that costs 50 cents for twelve ounces. This of course includes those 24 ounce dollar cans, which of late includes Icehouse, Labatt Blue and Labatt Ice. After that there is the one dollar for twelve ounces tier, which includes $2 “oil cans” of Foster’s, the one time Aussie beer now brewed in Georgia and Texas. Also a 24 ounce bottle of Samuel Adams Boston Lager, which is the least expensive of their entire line.
Budweiser American Ale fits into this group, a twenty two ounce bottle for $1.79.
The first part of this summer has been economically tough, from county property taxes to tires for the family car. There other personal family catastrophes that I will not bore you with. Suffice to say that when I dropped in at my local beer store a few weeks back, the owner pointed to the recently acquired Anchor Summer Beer, which I replied, after noticing the $10 price tag, “No, I can’t do that, that is way above my pay grade.”
Which brings up a recent incident with Pyramid Breweries Curve Ball, a one time Kolsch-style summer ale that now sports new urban graphic packaging. But the beer itself incredibly, was absolutely awful. The package claims the beer is “a deceptively delicious diversion”… think again sports fans. The other sting to this was that Curve Ball retails at $9.57, tax included. Nothing bites like losing money on a very lame beer.

Fifteen years ago when the craft brew world was starting to go into orbit, few at the time would have imagined that the orbit is permanent, or L5 as they say. Recently sampling  Great Lakes Grassroots Ale, I was struck by the fact a brewery located in Cleveland, Ohio could produce an herbal farmhouse style of ale, found in Belgian and French farms, and somewhat rare, even in their countries of origin. Mind you, it is not my favorite beer, but the Belgian yeast strain, combined with the herbs, keep this in authentic context. On the bottle’s label, it is referred to as a mild ale, which when you see that it is 6.2% abv, they are using the term mild in the Belgian sense of the word. In British vocabulary this ale would be deemed strong.
But there is certainly something to be said about sitting in the backyard, on one of the warmest days so far this year, amidst abundant foliage and sunlight, and pouring this beautiful golden ale into what could be rightfully called a performance ale glass,  which exhibits this beer in all its saison glory.

Brewers in the United States are very interested in all different styles of beer. Take Andygator from The Abita Brewing Company in Louisiana. A big southern take on the traditional German Mai bock. Packaged into a 22oz bottle (a bomber as the beer crowd calls it) this 8% golden boy, is most definitely a bottle for two. If you open this while alone, well its time to get happy and responisble ( by not performing any tasks that require responsibility). Time to sit back and enjoy the malty golden nectar.
Which brings me to a point I would like to make. As The Beer Doctor, I was schooled in tasting by Beer Hound James D. Robertson, who taught me as a taster, its my job to meet any beer’s recipe halfway. In other words, if I am sampling a beer brewed with corn grits, say Straub or Pabst for example, I am not going to compare it with an all malt recipe. To say that beers made with adjunct grains are inferior is to deny the history of brewing (especially in the United States) that brought them about. Whether it is macrobrews or craft brewed, these marketing terms are incredibly overrated, because in truth, it is the recipe that counts, and how it is put into production. Of course branding has something to say, when it comes to satisfying the ticklish consumer palate. That is why Heineken Lager is sold in green bottles. Why Corona is sold as some fantasy beach vacation, rather than the dull migrant cooler that it actually is. Stella Artois is another marketing coup, taking a rather common table lager from Belgium, and making it “Reassuringly Expensive” as it was touted in England up until a couple of years ago.
The price of beer is often used as a way to determine the quality of the beer. After many years in the trenches, so to speak, I can assure the dear reader that this is not so. But people believe what they want to believe, so I am not at all surprised  when I observe someone forking out serious dough, for a six pack of something I would consider not worth buying at half the prize. Such is essential human freedom, and bless us all for deciding what each of us  wants to drink.
The recipe is the thing that will catch the conscience of The Beer Doctor. Whether it is new world or old world or downright acrchaic (such as brew lagered for months in stone caves). If it tastes good or interesting, it is going to be counted. Cheers!