“Here’s to alcohol: the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.” - Homer Simpson
For shortish reviews of specific beers
I’m happy to bring you another updater from our intrepid gal on the mean streets of Buffalo, the indefatigable Breezer Marieezer (follow her on Instagram here!), sampling the Ellicottville Brewing Company’s very verbosely named “Super Duper Jelly Strawberry Cream Ale” beer and giving us her thoughts on it. Cheers, Bree!
We have settled comfortably into July, and sizzling days giving way to warm summer nights has become the norm here in New Mexico. In my hand, I hold a can of the Enter Night Pilsner by Stone, which I suspect might be a nice, crisp pilsner perfect to combat the current searing temps. Let me tell you a little about this one…
/holds up can
/reads label
It’s on. It’s time to get started. To crank things up. To get loud.
That thumping you feel in your chest isn’t your imagination. It’s your heart. It’s life. It’s the rockin’ tunes. It’s your inspiration wanting to break out. It ain’t gonna sit there waiting, so mutherf**king grab it.
Is this the intro to an MLM seminar? Or a lost Fyre Festival ad?? What is happening?
/reads on
This is a Collaboration in the truest sense between two entities that were born on the fringes. We’ve navigated life from a different perspective. We imagined things differently from what they were, and set about using our art to change the world according to our vision. We started being misunderstood by many, and loved by few. Today that’s the same…but that ‘few’ has become ‘more.’ A LOT more. That’s you, my friend, and we’re stoked you’re with us on this journey.
The day is winding down. It’s time to get started. No more waiting. It’s time to get LOUD. It’s time to Enter Night.
I still have zero idea what I’m about to drink, but that is one hell of an ITBMCBB*.
Let me check the ol’ Stone website:
In collaboration with Metallica, this beer represents the cataclysmic collision of two uncompromising supernatural forces. It’ s a crisp and refreshing Pilsner that, much like the band, transcends genres, shatters preconceptions and challenges convention.
Ah, I get it now. First opinion: Much like Metallica in 2k19, that description is trying way too hard to be bad-ass.
Photo credit: Beerwulf
If I were to describe the beer, not with all the Hit Parader platitudes, but as if I were simply evaluating, you know, the beer, I’d characterize it as a safe and conventional pils, with a straw-colored appearance, a soft, floral aroma, and a muted and gentle bitterness. Which is to say there’s nothing edgy or genre-bending or perception-shattering about it. In fact, it’s eminently accessible, flirting with prosaic.
TL:DR: it’s fine. The beer is fine.
A more apropos band tie-in would have been Coldplay, which isn’t a bad thing necessarily. A lot of people like Coldplay because, like this beer, they’re easy enough to drink down and completely inoffensive, if not a bit unimaginative. I own no Coldplay records, but shit, I can get with “Clocks”.
So, I say try it or don’t. You may like it, you definitely won’t hate it, and a small few of you will curiously, ravenously love it.
A quick review of Take The Black Stout.
I unintentionally paired Ommegang’s Take The Black Stout with some Game of Thrones Oreo cookies, which was a pretty nice pairing. Stout, chocolate, cookie, all good things. I paired both with episode one of season eight.
This beer came out originally in June of 2013, it was the second beer in the series. I was still under some illusions to the idea of having them all. I had a taste of this at a beer festival that same year, and ended up not drinking the bottle I had, until now.
I enjoyed it a lot more than I enjoyed most of the Game of Thrones beers from the earlier runs. The age definitely smoothed out the flavors, with the roasty malts really being intertwined with the star anise and the licorice. Those were a lot more muted than I suspect they were originally, they were an added twist of depth to the beer rather than hitting you in the face with what’s typically a rather strong flavor. Lots of chocolate flavors in there, that’s what really shone through to me. I drank this pretty warm, especially by the time I got through the bottle.
It’ll come to no surprise that Game of Thrones beers did pretty well on Untappd last night. Pictured below, a tweet from Untappd founder Greg Avola.
Lest the reader think that the default state of the Barley Prose blogger is in full repose, drink in hand, perhaps being fanned by palm fronds or fed grapes by bikini clad servant girls, I’m here to inform you that there’s actually a very active side of the spectrum on the Barley Prose writing staff.
That’s right, it’s another installment of Run, Relax, Refresh!
First, the run. This is the very well known “Tipp Hill Shamrock Run” 4 mile race course.
This “spring” race (spring in quotes, because, in Syracuse, a March race usually features temperatures very un-springlike) is an annual tradition, being run for the 14th time in 2019, and most years attracting upwards of a couple of thousand runners. Getting people to come out and run a hilly four miles in weather best described as “balls-ass cold” is no small feat, but this historic neighborhood is just the draw to get people to shake off their late winter doldrums. There is live music along the course, people in wacky costumes, and tons of free booze (mimosas, Jameson, etc.) being handed out to the less speed-inclined. It’s a fine morning workout and I’ll be running it myself for the ninth consecutive year.
My local run club gets out on this course a couple of times each winter, with the cooperative efforts of local pubs, for a course preview followed by morning refreshment. Here we are.
NOTE: many of the runners in my club opted for coffee and breakfast pizza post-run, not everyone is so inclined to cracking into a draft beer at 9:30 in the morning, but, then again, not all of them write for such a prestigious publication as the Barley Prose blog.
I held back a bit on pace, knowing that I had a 14 mile training run (technically a half marathon being raced at training pace, plus a 1 mile cooldown) on tap for the following morning. Plus it was my first day back after a week in Cancun and I was feeling the briskness of a Syracuse February morn.
Here’s my Strava of the course. Because, of course, unless it shows up there, it almost certainly didn’t happen.
We started and ended our run at the Now and Later Bottle Shop and Tap Room, placed conveniently right around mile 1.3 of the race course. This is a concept that I am a big fan of – while these folks don’t brew their own beers, they keep a well stocked set of beers on tap for convivial moments, such as after a group run for example. The bar is complete with funky taps and a nice range of semi-local micro brews.
The other half of this facility is a place where the buyer can go select a four, six or twelve pack of a wide assortment of beers to take home with them. It’s a good concept, have one in the tap room and get more to go! They have a number of their choices stocked in the cooler adjacent to the bar. This is really the kind of wall I can get behind, politically and spiritually.
My beverage of choice this morning was the Kings Country Brewers’ Collective offering of a “Morbid Hour” Black Pilsner.
There’s a nice interview here with the folks at KCBC, a Brooklyn brewery located in Bushwick. Both the brewers and their clientele count themselves as fans of “metal” and brewed this beer specifically for a series on the “most metal breweries” and for a music and drinking fest entitled the “Decibel Metal and Beer Fest.” This beer, despite being called a pilsner, is in fact a black lager or “Schwarzbier,” but was named as a pilsner so as to be more appealing to the masses.
I enjoyed the crud out of this beer! It was smooth and had a nice finish. Dark, but not as heavy as a porter or a stout. Not sure what it is about a dark beer, it could be that I started out as a Guinness man and the dark beers just all appeal to me. I’ll be digging into this thought in an upcoming post.
As usual, I will let the prose-inator carry this post to the finish line…
“This beer tastes like what it would taste like if a
made love to a
in the middle of a
while listening to the Greatest Hits Album of the world’s greatest band, ever, that being of course
and then together raised a baby with their shared feelings of
and, finally, that baby cried
tears of
into a frosty pint glass.”
Until not that long ago, I would have assumed that if you mentioned a “crowler” in front of me, that you were just making up words. I was not always the astute and seasoned blogger, admirer, criticizer and prose generating beer themed adult who sits here today.
I was just a boy, once.
It turns out that a number of these new craft beer tasting/tap rooms are also willing to sell a beer to go. The standard size is the growler, a 64 oz. portion.
Now, sadly, I am the only one in my household who tends to lean back in the chair for a beer. Which means that a to go serving with the equivalent of four 16 oz. glasses of beer is just an awful lot for me to bring home.
As awesome as it is to have your own jug of beer. A jug!
Well, this is where the crowler comes in.
The crowler is a 32 ounce serving of beer to go. This equates to two very tall, full pours into a 16 oz pint glass. My most prized piece of glassware, the Guinness glass, holds a bit more, making for a more comfortable drinking experience.
I am all about this! Two tall beers is a decent amount of drink, maybe it’s one with dinner and one later in the evening, or one while cooking and then the rest at the meal. It works either way.
This was the first crowler I ever purchased. It’s a rite of passage, for me, in a sense, in that it’s another step into a world of appreciation for the finer things. Like locally brewed and concocted beers and ales.
This crowler came courtesy of the fine folks at Full Boar Brewing in North Syracuse, New York. I have written about them before, in glowing phrases. They really do conjure up a great range of beers, from New England IPAs, to stouts and porters, American style pale ales, ambers, and so on.
This is their new “Imperial Cin,” an imperial oatmeal stout. This sucker clocks in at 10.7% ABV and 54 IBUs, and, IFBMCBB*, is “brewed with Cinnamon Sticks and Madagascar Vanilla Beans.” Fine choices, says I.
I do drink a lot of stouts, so I figured I’d put on my researcher’s cap and determine what the difference is between a stout and an imperial stout. It turns out that in most modern cases, an imperial stout is just made in a fashion where the hops and malts are doubled or tripled during brewing, leading to higher alcohol content and more pronounced flavors.
This particular stout was delicious. I went in on a busy night just before Xmas and had a tiny sample of it to get a sense of the flavor, and then immediately decided to get a crowler to go.
This was, for me, my “gift wrapping” crowler, as I very deliberately knocked back two servings of it while wrapping all of the gifts that went under the tree for the family. A perfect mid-wrap quench, it was (they were).
I will let the Prose-inator bring this one home. Happy crowlering, y’all!
“This beer tastes like what it would taste like if a
made love to a
in the middle of a
while listening to the Greatest Hits Album of the world’s greatest band, ever, that being of course
and then together raised a baby with their shared feelings of
and, finally, that baby cried
tears of
into a frosty pint glass.”
After a long hiatus, we’re finally happy to share a new post from our intrepid field reporter Breezer Marieezer (follower her on Instagram here!), who gives a fine counterpoint to my own determination that winter beers are somehow all just 12 oz servings of reindeer piss. Today’s review is the Woodcock Brothers’ Brewery Stiff Mitten Spiced Winter Ale. Cheers, Bree!
Commitment is an act, not a word. -- Jean-Paul Sartre
There’s an entire sub-genre, it would seem, of stand up comedians and nervous protagonists of rom-com movies who lament on the American male’s deep reluctance to make a commitment. Perhaps this is hyperbole, or a stereotype that is easy pickings for humorists. Or, perhaps not. Maybe men really do have a harder time committing.
But what does this have to do with beer?
I’m getting to that, imaginative dialogue partner. Be patient.
This writer has found that the best way to discover and appreciate new beers, in the part of the world where I reside, is the very magical “Craft Your Own Pack” offer at Wegmans. For future brevity, I will refer to this as the CYOP*, and the act of purchasing and enjoying these beers as “cyopping*.”
I’ve touched on this before, in previous posts. For a very reasonable $10.99, thirsty Americans can choose six different beers from a handsomely displayed set of refrigerated shelves full of ambers, pilsners, lagers, stouts, ales, pale ales, IPAs, and even ciders and lemonades.
(It should also be noted that, unless watchful eyes are afoot, a person could theoretically take individual beers from craft four and six packs in the adjacent aisles and place them discretely into their “craft my own pack” holder, and the seller is none the wiser. Though my own Wegmans now has an employee stalking those very aisles every Saturday and Sunday morning, perhaps meant to halt that sort of rogue shopping banditry style cyopping).
This is the most recent six pack I crafted. A typical range of pales, IPAs, sours, fruity beers, and other mouthwatering treats meant to delight both young (well, you know, 21+ young) and old alike.
Of these six beers, four are new to me. I’ve knocked back my share of Bel Air Sours and Sierra Nevada Pale Ales over recent months — they are both delicious representatives of the sour and American Pale Ale genres. The IPAs are ones I have not tried as of yet. The amber ale was tasty, and refreshing, and while the blood orange ale was as well, though it could have stood more orange flavor.
But the bigger question is, would I commit to buying an entire six pack of any of these?
(Confession: I attended a birthday party for my wife’s cousin’s 3 year old son, two weekends ago, and grabbed a six pack of the Sierra Nevada pale ales to bring based on her cousin’s statement of “I’ll drink anything you bring over” and a limited subset available at the local gas station I hit on my way out of town. But those were bought knowing that I would only likely be having two, and sharing the others with him and any other guest that wanted one. So that doesn’t count, for purposes of this discussion.)
I’m talking about the six pack commitment. Six of the same beers, in a row, in my fridge, all at once. To be drank, over a relatively short time frame, in order to clear out room for the next six beers.
(Author’s note: I’m not talking about that sad pack of hard lemonades, originally six but perpetually five, that the wife thought she might enjoy, slowly turning into Lemon Pledge in the back. I’m talking about Daddy’s beers, friends.)
I’ve faced this dilemma before. I’ll have a beer, on tap in a bar or restaurant, or in one of these choose-your-own-adventure six packs, and enjoyed enough to take the plunge. I’ll go to Wegmans and buy a sixer of that variety, and by the time I’m halfway through it, I’ve had enough. Sort of a best case buyer’s regret (I mean, they’re still beers, paid for, in my house, so I’m not exactly suffering).
Maybe this is a side effect of choosing fruity, off-the-beaten-path flavored beers. A berry ale that seems refreshing once every four or five months loses some of its magic if I’ve had 3 or 4 over a week’s time. This is the beer drinker’s equivalent of looking at everyone else’s date at a wedding and wondering what those other gals can do that your own date cannot, or shall not.
So, to be concise, a beer has to be pretty special for me to make the six pack commitment. I had this one, in a recent CYOP, and deemed it worthy.
I took the plunge with the Great Lakes Brewery Ohio City Oatmeal Stout (5.4% ABV, 25 IBU).
There is just something about oatmeal stouts that appeals to me. First off, while I am a cold cereal & milk guy most days, my default plan B breakfast is a bowl of instant maple brown sugar oatmeal. The stuff keeps on the pantry shelf for ten thousand years, and doesn’t require anything besides a half cup of boiling water (good for days when there’s no milk left) and, if circumstances allow it, maybe a small pat of butter.
So maybe the oatmeal stout appeals to my innate love of warm, soothing oatmeal breakfasts.
Maybe it’s just that rich, chocolatey, silky kind of flavor that they all seem to possess. I can’t think of a single oatmeal stout that I didn’t at least passively enjoy. It’s specific to oatmeal stouts, too, as the Russian Imperials and milk stouts don’t grab me the same way.
Some of these oatmealers, such as the Buried Acorn’s (which they have sadly not brewed in some months), were worthy enough to get their own blog post. Others, like the Ommegang oatmeal stout, or the Blue Moon cappuccino oatmeal stout, are like one night stands in my mouth, just coming across my palette briefly but remembered fondly the next morning. And yet others, as in the Full Boar Dark Victory Oatmeal Stout, to be dreamed of and likely prose’d here as well someday.
Others, though, well, if they’re locally available in the six pack format, and I’ve already sampled them at a local pub or through a recent cyopping, well, then, I’ll get down on one knee, and in a classic romantic fashion, offer my commitment to drinking them.
<cue rom-com tissue honking and/or sitcom applause track>
Time for another installment of Run, Relax, Refresh, where our intrepid blogger combines a post-workday run with a stop at one of Syracuse’s fine local craft brewing establishments.
The Run:
This day’s journey took me along route 11 in North Syracuse, New York, to some residential side streets, and then spat me back out along the narrow shoulder of Taft Road, plus a couple of detours tacked on to get me to the 30 minute mark (my normal weekday exercise goal).
The route 11 portion of this run wasn’t bad, thanks to there being a sidewalk available set safely away from the road. I was able to run past some of the town’s more quirky local businesses, such as Earthbound Metaphysical. I was hoping that this was a “Ray’s Occult Books” style shop of necromancy and paranormal resources, though it turns out they just sell fancy coffees and tees.
When I realized my route as originally designed was going to clock in at around 2.75 miles, I decided to tack on a couple of small detours. One was to run down the access road at Hinerwadels, a famous local clambake joint that has sadly closed their doors this year (luckily, their gravel driveway remained accessible). I also detoured over to the local junior high school and added a quarter mile by running a lap on their local track. These both had the added benefit of getting me off of Taft Road, where the shoulder is about as wide as Kate Moss’ torso.
The intermediate roads on this route, through residential North Syracuse neighborhoods, did have a nice display of foliage out for enjoyment.
A good workout, overall, not the most scenic path I ever traversed, but it conveniently started and ended at the Full Boar Brewery and Tap Room.
The Relax:
This awesome little joint opened in 2016 in a local shopping plaza — always a plus, ensuring that there’s plenty of parking and that it’s not too conspicuous to leave my vehicle in front for 30 minutes without shopping, while I get my run in.
This place has a lot to offer, first off — each table has a caddy of individual sized snacks, chips and pretzels.
I personally went with the Dipsy Doodles, which are like Sun Chips’ sexy naked cousin in the snack world.
Lots of comfortable seating abound as well as snappy decorations, as you can see.
But now, let’s remember, this isn’t an HGTV decorating show. I’m not here to comment on the feng shui, I’m here to partake.
They have a great selection of brews, of all colors and flavors. Not to mention these tricked out growlers converted into hanging lights (OK WE GET IT DECORATOR-BOY).
I sampled the peanut butter and jelly flavored blonde, which was just a bit too odd, and then had a sour mango, which was a refreshing enough beer (though I prefer my sour mango beers to be sourer and mangoier).
The real star of this “triple R” was the chocolate peanut butter stout.
The Refresh:
It seems all too appropriate to enjoy one of these beers on the week of Halloween. After a couple of days spent “borrowing” from my kids’ trick or treating haul, this stout was scratching me right where I itched (not in the sweaty runner crotch kind of itch, more of the emotional yearning sort of way). It’s basically a Reese’s peanut butter cup, only in beer form (which is candy for the liver).
As per the menu, this beer is a 6.6% ABV choice and ITBMCBB*, it’s “smooth and sweet with a deep roast flavor. Nice peanut butter nose balances well with the dark Chocolate.” At $5 for a 16 oz portion, it hits my wallet’s sweet tooth as well.
As for the flavor, well, it’s sweet without being “cloyingly sweet.” (Note: that phrase is borrowed from every single episode of the show Chopped ever to air on the Food Fatty network). And it’s a stout, with delicious roasted flavor. I enjoy many stouts and this one ranks very high on my list. Shout out to the great pint glasses that the Full Boar uses, too. That groove at the top is perfectly contoured to my fat beer loving lower lip.
The Prose-inator loved it too! No surprise there. How would you describe it, Prose-inator?
“This beer tastes like what it would taste like if a
made love to a
in the middle of a
while listening to the Greatest Hits Album of the world’s greatest band, ever, that being of course
and then together raised a baby with their shared feelings of
and, finally, that baby cried
tears of
into a frosty pint glass.”
A review of the decidedly not New England IPA, Tongue-Tied Troll
So, Angry Erik. Cool brewery name for sure. Sounds like a Viking.
Tongue-Tied Troll is the name of the DIPA. October and all, you know that I double-checked this wasn’t a pumpkin beer. It’s not. Comes in at a solid 8.1%, and you really can taste that burn.
Ordered this with my dinner one night, sight unseen which I never do but was with some non-beer friends and you know how it goes. Them plebes were drinking Merlot of all things. This came out not-hazy. It wasn’t clear at least, but I already had my hackles up.
The smell, it’s got aroma but like, almost no fruit. Maybe a whiff of something blackberry like, but it’s sickly sweet. Malt, honey, etc. Old-School I guess, lots of that dank 2000s hop bomb stuff.
Boom, that taste. Not cool, it really smacks you in the face with dank. I’m not trying to get high here man! I want a beer not a joint. This guy is hoppy and bitter, but you’ve got a ton of that bready malt sweetness and alcohol burn to it too! Even a fruit fly couldn’t leave the dang thing alone. The hops presented grapefruit and orange citrus type flavors, but in a muted balanced way and not in the juice bomb way that would elevate this thing to next level.
The mouthfeel was solid though. Full, slick and made me want to take another sip, which I am always wont to do.
Verdict: NEEDS MORE HAZE. Will do in a pinch, especially at 8.1%, but have to give this a C-. Don’t wait in line for this one.
Why is it so hard to write a love letter?
I’ve been married for a long time, 17 years, and I’ll confess that while my wife and I treat each other lovingly, and say and text each other nice things, that it’s also been a long time since I tried to express my love in the classic “love letter” format.
A long time ago, before the Internet, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, I wrote my share of love letters. Long distance relationships and potential relationships call for that kind of communication and courtship. With my love now living in my home, I don’t have to exercise these muscles as strenuously.
So, here is my attempt to convey my feelings of love and passion and devotion to you, sweet barleywine.
Dear Barleywine, Damn, yo fine! Back that sweet ass up over here girl! Sincerely, Kilgore
How’s that?
OK, so it needs work.
Maybe if I spell out the reasons for my heartfelt emotion towards this product, this attempt will come a bit more naturally.
Do you even know what barleywine is?
I didn’t until fairly recently. Well, it turns out, that it’s not wine at all. It’s called that because of the high alcohol content. And much like the nerds in “Office Space,” looking up “money laundering” in the dictionary, it’s a bit saddening that I have to look up barleywine before I write my ode to it. Barleywine is a type of strong ale, brewed from barley, natch, and then called “barleywine” to identify an ABV percentage akin to wine, ranging from 8-12% generally speaking.
Let’s focus here.
High alcohol content.
We know that’s going into the love letter. Let me take another swing at this.
Dear Barleywine, Damn, yo fine! Back that sweet ass up over here girl! You got that high alcohol content that sets me a spinnin! You put dizzy in my heart, girl! Sincerely, Kilgore
I think we’re getting closer.
This particular barleywine, like so many recently enjoyed brewed products, is brought to you by the Buried Acorn Brewing brewpub and tap room. Their particular elixir is known as “Sticky Lips.” I think we know that that’s going in the love letter!
ITBMCBB*, the Sticky Lips is described as possessing “Centennial, Cascade, and Lemondrop hops. Toffee, Caramel… BOOOOOOOZE! Dry and Tasty!”
This is a rare scenario where I can say I maybe, almost, taste toffee and caramel. I can tell you that, like Sade, this drink is brown and smooth and easy on the palate.
I will give the Prose-inator a crack at this thing as well.
“This beer tastes like what it would taste like if a
made love to a
in the middle of a
and then together raised a baby with their shared feelings of
and, finally, that baby cried
tears of
into a frosty pint glass.”
Now, maybe the kicker to this thing is that despite being smooth and luxurious, that the Sticky Lips barleywine has a fantastic 13% ABV (and a 60 IBU, for reference). Which means that it’s a high octane sumbitch. It’s served in a 12 oz glass, which is fine, because I think a couple of tall pours of this nectar and you’d be Uber-ring your own ass home.
And lest you think that all barleywines are created equal, I attempted to drink a more mainstream brewery’s barleywine that was 10% ABV and available as part of a Wegman’s “Craft Your Own Six Pack” and I was barely able to finish it. It was nothing like this Smooth Operator (double bonus Sade reference points).
At this point, I feel like I finally have enough details to finish my love letter. Attempt #3:
Dear Barleywine, Damn, yo fine! Back that sweet ass up over here girl! You got that high alcohol content that sets me a spinnin! You put dizzy in my heart, girl! You been 'round since the 18th century and how am I just finding you? Aw, that don't matter none, just come by my way and sing me some of those sweet dulcet tones you got and we'll have ourselves a good time! I'm gonna kiss them sticky ass lips! Sincerely, Kilgore PS Bring money
That is romantic AF, right there.