I guess I am just growing weary of American takes on Belgian ales because so many of the authentic versions from the actual country are readily available. Imitation it has been said, is the sincerest form of flattery.  The fascination with Belgian style ales continues unabated.

The use of rye malt in brewing has quite a history. In Finland, Sahti is produced using rye combined with juniper berries. In Eastern Europe, Kvass was created as a very low alcohol drink that existed before the invention of modern soft drinks. Rye malt has been around for a very long time, although mostly unnoticed.

With Sierra Nevada Ruthless Rye IPA, you have a dark copper-coloured pour with a spicy nose. With a first drink, the rye becomes quite apparent. Sierra Nevada’s famous hops personality is given a twist here. The peppery notes from the rye abound in this recipe, while the extensive use of whole hop cones, combine with the malts to deliver a complex tasting experience. This has a bit of a bite in the long dry finish, which may be somewhat of a shock to a younger hop focused audience. Thankfully there is also full malt support for the hops abundance. Very well achieved flavour complexity that is astounding in its uncompromising quality.

The old and new combine in interesting combinations. Nowadays, there is all the talk about the craft can beer revolution. But I think back to 20 years ago when friends I knew could not believe I was enjoying beer out of a can. And when they tried what I was drinking, they were quite surprised to find they enjoyed it too. That was Genesee Bock Beer from Rochester, New York. They could not believe such a tasty beer came out of a can. I offered up the thought that the Ball corporation made very good aluminum cans, but that wasn’t the answer. The recipe dated back to 1951, but that was just modern production history, for actually Genesee Bock dates back to 1878.
What a joy it is to have this year’s batch of what is quintessentially an American classic. A flavourful can of beer, long before that notion was even considered cool.

The same can be said of the yearly return of Great Lakes Conway’s Irish Ale. The wonderful juicy profile of this malt showcase is something I will cherish forever. I look forward to it every year, sometime before Saint Patrick’s Day.

I am aware that a whole generation of beer drinkers now assume that hop emphasis beers are the normal. Funny how things work out, because I remember the first India Pale Ale I sampled, and this was before Samuel Adams even existed, and that was Ballantine India Pale Ale. This was a unique American beer, in that it was aged in oak barrels, long before the term oak crafted had been co-opted by the craft brew revolution. The first time I tasted it, it reminded me slightly of  Vernor’s Ginger Ale, a soft drink I had as a kid. Which was actually more accurate than I realized at the time, since the Vernor’s of my childhood was also stored in oak. What is even more remarkable that Ballantine India Pale Ale was a full production beer where storage in oak was a simply a prerequisite of the recipe.
Traditional India Pale Ales of the British variety were no way as aggressively hopped as the new world varieties. Anderson Valley’s Hop Ottin’ IPA. An original hop head American IPA that melds the citrus pine resin of Northwestern hops in a new world approach that for many now has become the standard.
Back in the days when Hop Ottin’ IPA first appeared it was considered extremely bold. But this was way before things like Bell’s Hopslam tickled the hop heads’ imagination. Today aggressive and overly aggressive hopped beers have become a craft beer standard.

On other matters, I recently sampled a bottle of Red Hook Pilsner. The one time Seattle based brewer, now brewed across the country, from Oregon to New Hampshire. A rather  tasty Czech-style lager, that was a popular seasonal, that has become a year long slammer which has two interesting aspects. First, the bottle itself, genetically modified version of an old snub nose traditional, with a nonic-like collar between the short neck and body. Which makes me wonder what was the reasoning behind this? But even stranger is this statement found on the label: MAY NOT LOOK IT, BUT HAS A DARK SIDE.
What does this mean? I have no idea.

Lastly, I would like to comment on Goose Island Matilda, one of their Belgian style takes which I found to be a complete waste of time. Emphasizing its cellaring quality “develops in the bottle for up to 5 years” this ale takes the characteristics of Belgium yeast and develops them in a quite unsuccessful way. This is nearly incomprehensible to me, but even more so are those who actually believe that this is what Belgium beer tastes like, in this case, a farmhouse ale, which to some folks means the funkier the better. But this does not apply to The Beer Doctor. I have another bottle of six month old Maltida, which I will give to someone who might appreciate it. To put it diplomatically: I drank one and I certainly don’t want to drink another.

Oddly it is one of their more expensive  ales I found a bit disappointing, their Espresso Oak Aged Yeti, Imperial Stout, at $10 a 22 ounce bottle, infused with oak chips and coffee, designed to impart flavor complexity. Instead I found an overpriced, rather pretentious presentation that can not quite decide whether it wants to be stout or coffee. Suffice to say I can not recommend this beer. There are much better Imperial Stouts to be had, although I am sure there are people who go YETI crazy over this. I am just not one of those, especially when classics such as North Coast Brewing’s Old Rasputian is once again available. Coffee Stouts have never been something I write home about. Adding coffee to an Imperial Stout is a bit of overkill, even if it meets the demand for the breakfast stout, which has become a craft recipe obsession in some circles.

California beers have grabbed my attention lately. EEL River Brewing Company’s certified organic IPA, is the Scotia, California brewer’s take on British tradition. Although that is a bit of a stretch considering the lively floral fresh presentation of hops, originating from the U.S. west coast, where lupulin effects become a cascade. Even those ales not aggressively hopped, such as North Coast’s Red Seal Ale, have this geographical distinction. Over the top India Pale Ales has been the rage for quite sometime, which has prompted many to abandon other styles in pursuit of this expanding market. But this becomes one dimensional after awhile, where malts are present to support the hops, rather than the other way around. Over-the-top hops is what some folks consider to be the mark of great beer. I thank the universe that this is not my only criteria.

Then there is the 37th edition of Anchor’s famous “Our Special Ale”. A Christmas wassail that uses the signature spruce profile, but in a more subtle presentation. It reminds me of James D. Robertson’s comments that the first few “special ales” were not wassails at all. This latest version serves as a reminder of its holiday roots, where spices compliment, rather than overwhelm, the final presentation.
Incredibly well made. I also recall recall what a sales representative from Anchor told me a couple months ago: that the parameters of the basic recipe have been thoroughly established. Who knows? Next year’s recipe may not be a spiced ale at all.
Cheers!

Something I never tried before this year is Full Sail Wassail from the Full Sail Brewing Company in Hood River, Oregon. Seeming to take a note from Belgian Christmas beers, this has a complex flavor profile: orange citrus, a touch of dark chocolate notes combine with a very solid finish. An outstanding spiced ale, where the emphasis is on the finish, which is long and very festive.
Speaking of festive, the return of Dundee Festive Ale,  is for myself, a very joyous occasion. A remarkably underrated Holiday beer, the recipe achieves a balanced presentation that makes it a joyous drink. A bah humbug eraser from start to finish.

I find it difficult to bah humbug those who think of cellaring holiday beers. For myself, nothing is quite so great as a freshly completed limited edition, so I do not consider ‘putting down’ (sounds like organized crime lingo) a few special edition bottles for some time later. I’ve always had the suspicion that people who obsess about ‘vertical tastings’, have a secret desire to be wine collectors. But what I am concerned with here is beer, and when it comes to holiday beer, it is most certainly, time to drink.

One of the great beauties of fresh beer is that you get to taste what the beer actually tastes like when it came out of the brewery. Affligem Noel, available fresh at the grocery store this year, is a prime example of what world class beer actually tastes like. How is it possible to describe its enormous quality and character?  And without those typical musty notes attributed to cellared versions? Fresh is best. I would say for all holiday beers, whether spiced (wassail) versions or not. Sure many a winter beer will keep for quite some time, but that is most certainly not the point, because holiday beers are designed to be festive and celebratory.
Wassail recipes abound. 21st Amendment Brewery’s Fireside Chat is quite a kick both graphically and physically. A six-pack of cans containing strong spiced winter ale, with a depiction of FDR enjoying a holiday glass and a smoke. The ale itself is a powerful statement for beer in cans. Made at the old Cold Spring Brewery in Cold Spring, Minnesota. One of those “ho ho whoa!” brews available at this time of year.

“When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance. cried out, “Well done!” and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose.”
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
The game is afoot…

What for example, is to make of the perpetual  favorites from out west, such as Breckenridge Christmas Ale, which has always been a beautiful New World take on Scottish Winter Ale that over years, has become a sublime achievement, where nothing is out of place in its palate profile.
The same can surely be said of Great Divide Hibernation Ale, a dry-hopped take on an old English Winter, where malts and hops do all the talking. As is also the case with Brooklyn Winter Ale, their holiday/winter tribute to the power of Maris Otter malt.

A careful perusal of spiced beer reveals there are many choices. Samuel Adams Winter Lager always has a huge fan base and rightfully so, considering the balanced obtained with spices added to the wheat bock recipe.
“A damn tasty winter beer,” is part of what Beer Advocate’s Todd Alstrom said of this beer, 9 years ago. Considering that I have sampled Winter Lager for at least 20 years, I marvel at the brewmasters’ skill at refining these exquisite recipes, bringing them to fruition, year after marvelous year.

What a delicious, mysterious brew this porter is. The traditional porter concern for malty depth, providing bright fruity esters (rather than the darker black currant notes of an Imperial stout) from the six malts used, including Chocolate, Munch and Crystal, combined with Warrior and Mt. Hood hops. But it is the peppers, found in the finish, that keeps the marvelous mystery going. A deliciously drinkable extraordinary ale.

Descriptive promotion by Left Hand invokes Robert De Niro  in the campy Angel Heart movie as Lucifer, smoking a cigar and ready to bargain for your soul. First off, I have never been a fan of combing nicotine and beer, and the description by Left Hand of Fade To Black #3 as having “an herbal smoke ring”; is, in this taster’s perception, totally misleading. My God, this porter is so much better than any ridiculous Hollywood movie.