Tag: IPA

Label flows with the standard flowery words: citrus, crisp, floral. But there is a tiger on the label, and i like that even though by now we know that IPA was never indigenous to India but rather brewed to keep English soldiers happy while serving in the hellish climate of the Subcontinent. But hey, i like tigers.

This one’s from New england, a true indy brewer from Vermont and Massachussetts, not sure which location is their original home. One thing on the label stands out: “unique malt profile” is a phrase one does but rarely hear in an IPA; they’re usually so busy hopping them up to think about malts which will be gastronomically wiped out in the end. The rest of the particulars: 5.9% alk and a stable 42 IBU’s.

The color is normal, a golden and pale ale color, but the nasal appreciation deserves a note. Not quite the pines, but certainly a local atmosphere of orange blossom. And that’s where the taste picks up, a more floral than fruity hop profile, and there is citrus but it’s not very insistent.

No puckering pout here, lacks the lemon and limey characteristics of some IPA’s, and doesn’t branch out so much into plum or apricot or other stone fruits. It’s more about the blossom than the flesh. A hint of the creamy notes which set the great eastern IPA’s on their thrones, but not fully realized here. This would be a true creamsicle beer if it had the cream part in fuller force.

The beer body is noticeable, but not to the extent that the blurb on the label suggests. A hint of sour from the mash, the sort of flavor which takes flight in a stout, but here it’s much lighter, obviously by seeing the color of the beer. The real danger of this beer is not in its strength but the friendly taste from all components pitching in. I found a 12-er of this at a good price and they were just so easy to enjoy that i lost track and the next day i really felt as though i had been harpooned.

But i saved one to eat later in a more reflective frame of mind, ergo this review, a couple weeks later, it’s been sitting lonely in the fridge since its 11 bretheren had their way with my head. To sum, a very easy beer to drink, good flavor and at 42 IBU’s it’s not going to make your gf whine. The orangey flavor from the hops is more flower than rind, and that lets some of the malt sweetness through.

I like it. Not a serious IPA where you have to keep track of all the hop notes and contemplate the brewmaster’s expressionist milieu in light of his contemporary peers. Just a nice bright beer to drink. It rates a 8.2 if i ever met one. At the end of the glass, aha, there it is: the pine trace of hops… but it only comes through in the burps.

That dog has a fat vagina. Thanks of course to Ralph Steadman, the twisted gentleman who did the artwork for all of Flying Dog’s labels and cartons, and if you don’t know him by name, you know his art from various places and didn’t know who it was done by. Notably, Ralph did the illustrations for stories by Hunter S. Thompson, including Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. Even more hilarious by “Gonzo” Thompson, if that’s even possible, is his tale of being sent to cover the Kentucky Derby one year, accompanied by a shy and timid young illustrator, who Thompson promptly drugged and corrupted the morals of… that was Ralph Steadman’s first trip to America, in more ways than one.

Now you know why he makes art like that.

On to the beer, but first about the carton which a sixer of these comes in: the funny stuff is on the bottom, make sure to empty the carton before checking it out. This one has an account of Flying Dog ringing up Steadman and asking him to make an illustration for this beer. Steadman: “It took you 20 years to give me a name like Raging Bitch.” Finally, if you’ve seen the movie “It’s A Wonderful Life” then you’ll get a great laugh out of FD’s reason to recycle the bottles and carton. That’s right, Zuzu, that’s right.

The beer itself, i don’t much like it. The color is great, a deep mellow orangey amber. The smell is great, smells like plenty o’ hops here. The trouble is with Belgium. By now you know that i don’t like Belgian beer, and this is a “Belgian Style IPA”. The concept is ridiculous on the face of it, and inside the glass, the non-Belgian parts of this beer are good. The body is heavy and lip-smacky, the hops are indeed floral and fruity.

But to me, Belgian beers taste like dust. Really, like you picked something up that’s covered with dust and licked it. It’s a musty corrupt taste, like that grayish-blackish stuff in the corner of your basement that you’re not sure if it’s a mold or a fungus and aren’t sure you want to know. Well, that’s what Belgium tastes like to me, and it’s what wipes this beer out.

The alk content is a thrilling 8.3% and that has it’s uses, like just before bedtime, but why not just call up the Makumba for that, which is tastier and higher alk, and a Double IPA with no bits of Belgium in it at all.

So the tale of the Raging Bitch is great beer potential, yet brought down by the sinister influence of Belgium. Truly, without the Belgian element this beer would be highly rated. But with the musty rotting-mushroom taste which apparently drives them wild in Bruges, all i can do is rate this one at a humble 4.4

A hissy bark? A whiny slither? What sound does the snakedog make? I think the Flying Dog brewers just tried to come up with the weirdest things from the bottom edge of their minds, just to see what illustration Ralph Steadman would come up with. And this one’s a doozy, comes with a poem too, best not repeated here where there might be kids reading.

The beer itself? An IPA of serious weight at 7.1% alk, color on the dark side of golden and the aroma of wheaty fruits. A sip tells it true: the malts are heavy here, and now i know why they smelled a little wheaty. This IPA lets the malts slide through the jungle of hops, by keeping the hops on the low side of face-punching.

Hops are still there of course, this being a real IPA, and they’re fully functional even if light: a bit of fruitiness but less sharp than citrus, bitter without being too piney, this is more of a spice bitter than an ascorbic bitter. But they’re lighter than many IPA’s and this lets a very full malt taste out of the cage.

Sweet, bright, grainy, with that unfruity bitter. An interesting brew fo shoo, dogg. Bought the full sixer of this for the Steadman art, think i may want to collect ’em all, but not sure if i’ll buy this beer again. The sturdy beer body is nice, but i do prefer something a little wilder on the hop side of the equation. A steady 7.1 rating here, up for competent brewing but down for the lower hops.

As with most Dundee beers, this one has a cartoon character. In this case it’s a buttoned-down British frog holding a pint. Of course it’s a frog so it naturally looks drunk, but we don’t know how strong this pint is. No info on the Dundee bottles, other than the peppy caption “Enjoyably Hoppy”. And these are twist-off bottles, so combine that with TLI, and you get a feel for the level of hands-on brewmastering involved. But carry on,

The color is medium gold, or two shades lower, and a really refreshing smell to this one. The hops are giving it up for free here, a nasal snorfle rakes in some citrus, some pine and even some pepper. Notable and thus noting it here, since that level of aroma is unexpected from Dundee.

And the tasting goes just as well. The tag “enjoyably hoppy” is fully justified. Ohhh, yep i’m a dolt, now i get it: it’s a frog because it’s “hoppy”. OK, back to our regularly scheduled beer review…

The taste is not as hoppy as the smell, but a good beer body comes through all the more past the tamed hops. But what it is, a medium-hopped ale, is fine. The same knock here as with Dundee’s kolsch: this is sweet for a hopped beer. I seen that before, from more crafty brewers, and it generally counts against them. Here, when we expected mediocrity and instead find suitability, it’s a big plus.

Still too sweet for me to drink all the time, but this shows that Dundee has some understanding of hops. Applause for that, and a nudge in case they stumble over this note: cut half of the sweetness and you’ve got a pretty good beer. Spike it with more carbonation after that, and you’ve got a damned good beer.

So this is a pale ale that knows it better not call itself “India” and it’s fairly cheap. Good hop, good beer, make it less sweet and it’d rate higher, but for now it’s ranked a workmanlike 7.6 rating.

While the other Dundee offerings have cartoon mascots, this one’s is a model ship in a bottle, sitting on a book whose spine gives the title “S. S. Dundee”. And as usual, no info on the packaging other than a catchphrase: “Bold And Bitter”. Well, let’s just see about that.

Color is a darker shade of pale and a slowly drawn noseful picks out some hoppy characteristics in the aroma, not overpowering but not flat either. With a taste, there’s no surprise that this is $8.50 a twelve-pack. Beer body is flaccid and flabby with no exertion, not sure if this is all barley or if we have some rice let in through the back door.

There’s a bitter that’s not hops, it’s the beer body’s desperation at having to get out of bed and go to work again. The hops side of this IPA is not too bad, however. Not crazy hoppy, and there’s no fruit or floral dimensions, but it does do the job of drying out the weak ale.

Whatever that additive is, it tastes like it’s trying to give the hops a helping hand, but it’s got a somewhat leaden taste, like coal. Separate that from the true hop elements, and they’re not bad. But the complete taste profile is gritty rather than grand. As with all Dundee’s: this is a sweet beer. Good idea with the Honey Brown or the other ales, but with an India pale ale, sweetness is not a friend.

I just can’t recommend buying a lot of this, but you could probably drink two of them before the tar-like bitter taste becomes annoying. Price is good, but let’s just say that while there are some great bargains in IPA Land, the universal rule still does apply: you get what you pay for. This rates a 3.6 but then again, it would’ve been much lower if this sampler-12 had been a few dollars more dear.

From the makers of the passable All Day IPA and the superb Centennial IPA, here’s another ale, this time a single-hop single-malt brew, the name a mashup betwixt the twain: Mosaic hops and Golden Promise malt. Label says they appreciate simplicity, and that’s sometimes sucky but most of the time a decent idea, as long as it can be pulled off with skill.

Cloudy with specks suspended, normally a good sign, this light colored beer clocks in at 50 IBU’s and 5.5% alk, and there’s only the one hop but it’s a doozy, the smell alone is strong enough to affirm that 50 IBU rating. And upon a sip, it’s a puckery punch to the twisted kisser, Mosaic hops are apparently the lemony ones. And the Founders people used a lot of them.

Another one like my beloved Bonobo Session IPA in one respect: if you told me this was a shandy, i might believe you. Low on the sweetness to be a real faux shandy, but it’s got the lemon essence pouring out its pores. No kidding, this is a tart and i don’t mean the easiest floozy at closing time.

As such, the hops overshadow the beer body inside this bottle. I really can’t tell you what Golden Promise malted barley is like, because my tongue has shrunk in reaction. Hey Founders, are you sure this is only 50 IBU’s? So no grapefruit, no florals or pine, it’s just lemon. A pity because i had my eye on a six of this for a while, but a stroke of luck because at another store there were 3 bottles of this in the bargain bin for a buck each. Glad i didn’t get a sixer for $11, got a half-six (otherwise known as three) for $3.

In this case, very happy to finally try this inexpensively, even if it’s not for me. It is tasty, and there are plenty of hot days left in the final two weeks of official Summer, and a couple bottles of highly lemonned beer will be welcome. As a beer, in the sight of its peers, this can only get a 5.3 rating, but when used for a certain purpose, i.e. to refresh after a sweaty day’s work, those other two bottles will be very appreciated.

…..

OK, two years after i wrote the above review, and you can disregard about half of it. This beer is like the old-time version of the Sweet-Tarts candy, only it’s liquid and tastes like beer and it’s got alcohol.

Today is exactly 2 years and 2 months after doing my first taste of Mosaic Promise, and it has become my go-to beer. It’s just amazingly delicious and cheap enough to support the addiction. Comes in a 15-pack of cans nowadays for $17, so $19.10 with tax and deposit. I know that number by heart now, because i buy this stuff whenever i see it.

Founders doesn’t make it all year round. Last year i held onto a fifteener of this for the lean months, and scouted out a low-volume store where two sixers of this in bottles were gathering dust on the shelf. As my backup supply, you know. In March someone bought one of them, so i scooped up the last six-pack.

Was down to only a couple Mosaic Promises left, when in August, fresh fifteeners of cans started hitting the stores. Hooray! My stashed ones were a little punchy from an unrecommended ageing in my pantry, but i was glad to retire them.

Here’s how much i like this beer: earlier this week i bought the last one of a local store, then the next day i scouted out another store, and sure enough they’ve got Mosaic Promise on the shelf. And i even counted how many 15-packs they have (17) so i can keep track and save some money up, to acquire a good portion of that store’s strategic reserves of Mosaic Promise.

I’m not kidding. The only other beer i invest into as a stock-up is Genesee’s Bock, on sale from Christmas until it runs out, usually in early March, and i run out in June or July. Ooops that’s not true, i also buy a case of 3 Heads Giant Panda Dub Style IPA twice a year, and drink one a week. So Mosiac Promise is the third beer i stock up on, but still, that’s saying something.

The bright citrus of the hops, the sweet malt of an uncompleted fermentation. For the price, about $1.25 a beer, this is the perfect balance of value and quality.

Two years ago, MP’s fizzed up as soon as the bottle was opened, and that’s the incomplete fermentation continuing inside the bottle. Means that they were over 5.5% alc by that point, so lucky me.

Today’s MP has less floaty specks, and it doesn’t fizz over when it’s in a can. So they’ve refined the process here. Alas for that, but the taste is still spot-on from the original crop of 2016. Because i did not appreciate what i had, my original review pegged MP at 5.3 rating. Now, i see that’s preposterous.

I love this beer, and i seek it out, and i hoard it. A more proper rating today would be closer to 8.3