A couple of my friends from New Orleans have been recommending I try beer from the NOLA area brewer Abita, so when I found a few bottles recently I grabbed them up.
But after drinking Abita’s Purple Haze “Raspberry Wheat Brew”, I’m not sure I want to waste my time drinking any other Abita brews. This beer was nothing like what I expected.
In fact, Purple Haze was less interesting than my ill-fated encounter with Michelob’s Hop Hound Amber Wheat. By comparison, the Purple Haze makes the weak and simple Hop Hound seem like a stellar wheat ale.
So what did I expect?
When I heard that Marc & Aimee were reviewing a Cappuccino Stout today, I decided a Mocha Porter would make the perfect pairing.
But after reading their review, I’m pleased to report that I had a much better experience with my Mocha Porter from Rogue than they had with the Cappuccino Stout from Lagunitas.
Rogue’s Mocha Porter whipped up a frothy head worthy of a cappuccino, but with all the strength and staying power of a double espresso shot. A full five minutes after pouring this beer, it still held a thick, mocha-colored head that had only slightly receded. Where it pulled back, the Mocha Porter left behind an intricate patchwork of lacing. The beer itself was a deep, dark brown — held to the light, you get just the slightest rosy aura.
Hear No, Speak No, Cappuccino Evil
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(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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Well, fellow beer lovers, it’s been a while since we’ve posted last… mostly because work and travel schedules have limited our time together for beer tasting, but we’ve also attributed a small part of our silence to this week’s beer: Lagunitas’ Cappuccino Stout.
While neither Aimee nor I fear beers that describe themselves as “big, dark and scary”, this one had us running for the hills. Only now — some six weeks later — have we mustered the courage to tell our tale.
He Said:
Lagunitas has a history of brewing up some rather . . . ah . . . unique beers, but that is why we loved them.
I’ve always viewed Lagunitas as the West Coast’s answer to Delaware’s Dogfish Head — both wildly creative and not afraid to hold back even under the harsh light of commercial appeal. A 2Pac to the East Coast Biggie, if you will.
Stone Cali-Belgique (Cali-België) IPA
By · Comments (2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5) Loading ...Belgium, you make some damned fine beer! I hardly got beyond the Trappist ales over the past two weeks, but the good old U.S.A. is calling be back — I’m craving some strong hops, familiar names, and posts that need less explanation!
Since today is IPA Monday, I can think of no better transition than to drink Stone Brewing Company’s Cali-Belgique IPA. Stone has added some Belgian yeast to its traditional IPA, which does two things. One, it adds some extra layers of flavor to the Stone IPA. And two, it allows me to have another Stone IPA without breaking my “no-repeats” prohibition!
Stone IPA was my inaugural brew for IPA Monday. I described it as:
. . . extremely refreshing and easy to drink. There’s a light, bread-like malt that plays a supporting role, blending carefully with complex citrus and “green” tasting hops . . . The beer has a light, distinctive, and extremely pleasant aftertaste. There’s a residue of warmth and a sweet oiliness at the back of the tongue, almost as if the beer has just melted in your mouth.
Monk’s Cafe Flemish Sour Ale
By · Comments (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5) Loading ...Not long after starting this “one a day with no repeats for a year” challenge, I began hearing about Belgian Sours. Chris from 52Brews.com originally brought sours to my attention, but I never did the legwork to learn more about them. So during my last beer run I scoured the shelves for anything that said “sour”, and found a bottle of Monk’s Cafe Flemish Sour Ale.
Monk’s Cafe is a Belgian beer-lover’s oasis in Philadelphia, billed as a “Belgian Café & Beer Emporium”. Their Flemish Sour Red Ale is a private label beer brewed by Brouwerij Van Steenberge, and rumor has it this beer is actually the same as Van Steenberge’s Bios Vlaamse Bourgogne. But who cares — isn’t Flemish Sour Ale more to the point?
It’s definitely easier to say.
You can imagine that I didn’t really know what to expect from this beer, since I knew nothing about sours. But I’ll admit it — I thought I had a clue. I actually thought I knew what I was getting into. You see, after truly discovering funky brett for the first time in Orval, and puckering up for the oh-so-sour Girardin Gueuze 1882, I imagined myself worldly in the ways of Belgian beer.
