The beer pours a hazy orange color with some sediment due to the cask conditioning.  The initial smell that I got was the floral/citrus aroma of the Simcoe and Cascade hops, and a slight casky whiff. The first taste was creamy deliciousness; the creaminess was like eating one of those orange/vanilla ice cream pops, only one that tasted like a really good IPA. Fantastically drinkable. I threw back two in the first twenty minutes; my fear that the cask would be blown quickly made me rush! After seeing that the cask wouldn’t be one of those half-hour and gone experiences I slowed down and began to appreciate the subtle qualities of this uber-brew.

So what type of subtle qualities are we talking about? This question seems to ask what the difference is between a beer on cask/barrel and the same beer out of a keg? Obviously, casking IPA’s adds a smoother and creamier texture to the beer. There really is a lot to be said when an IPA is mellowed in this fashion. You just don’t get as much of the hoppy mouth pucker after taking a big gulp. Also, the head on this beer seemed to last longer with the cask conditioning. The head lasted until the last drop of beer was in the glass. Pretty cool shit!

Overall, this is one awesome beer that is great out of the bottle or on draft. But do yourself a favor and search out a cask of West Coast IPA from Green Flash. This beer on cask is the pinnacle of what San Diego Pale Ale should be.

Official BoozeReviews Score: 100/100

L’Chaim!

Bought a 12th Anniversary at Windmill Farms by SDSU for $5.49.  Just looking at the bottle, I’m glad that they kept the same color scheme as the 11th Anniversary. The blue and silver just looks good.  There is a huge rant about the hop shortage on the side of the bottle which apparently led to the 12th Anniversary being a stout and not an IPA or DIPA as in previous years.  9.2% abv WOW!  This bitch is bigger than Rosie O’Donnel’s vag and burns your throat worse than when the cellophane that you put over your mouth breaks when traveling down the yellow river. Not quite the burn of a Mephastopheles from Avery, but it will still light up your mouth like the first time that you tried huffing gas. You may want to age this one for a while until it mellows out a bit.  

The color of this stout is black, and I mean completely opaque.  Spelunkers rejoice!  The initial quaff reveals a heavy mouthfeel, thick and almost chewy.  However, I can’t get over the burning sensation and utter lack of hops.  No, I didn’t expect this stout to be hoppy, but I miss the hop-kick. Some impressions of bitter chocolate, but not as chocolaty as I thought it would be if that makes sense. Oatmeal?  Yeah, it’s probably in there somewhere behind the burn, but I can’t really appreciate the taste or smoothness that it should demonstrate. 

Is this beer making me sweat more?  Yes. There is nothing summery about this beer.  Shit.  I’m going to need a towel. Or two towels.  One for drying off each sopping wet tit. Now I know how my wife feels when I miss her face.  

Stone:  thank you for making me remember why I don’t drink stouts in the summertime.

Official BoozeReviews Score:  72.3/100

L’Chaim!

Green Flash Double Stout comes in at a reasonable (by Imperial Stout standards) 8.8% ABV. Smell is of smoky, roasted malt; chocolate, and coffee. Dark black in the middle of the glass, the beer becomes deep, dark brown at the edge. Some viscosity, just not molasses viscosity. Dirty, thick brown head (description begs for obstreperous sexual innuendo). As it warmed the beer became increasingly silky and chocolaty. The slight hop bitterness on the finish kept the chocolate/mocha from becoming cloying. One bomber and I was adequately bombed. The 8.8% ABV is well concealed; I slugged this thing back like chocolate milk while looking into the availability of Pliny the Elder and Blind Pig in bottles. Warm it up, 50-55 degrees is optimal on this one.

Green Flash does the stout style proud with this brew. No chocolate, coffee, or other gimmicky adjuncts necessary to achieve a rich, flavorful beer. Chocolate and coffee impressions are achieved through oats and roasted malts. The drinkability of the beer remains high as the alcohol is kept in check.

96/100 points on the BoozeReviews scale.

I have to qualify everything I say here with the following:  I’ve been force feeding myself tons of these giant California IPAs for the last week because I’m desperately trying to understand this whole hophead thing that’s sweeping the microbrew industry these days.  And Goddamn, sometimes I truly feel like a Dirty Debutante with two hands on the back of her head, choking during the filming of her debut video.  I mean, sometimes it’s a real committment to suck these fuckers down.  Some of them are downright undrinkable, if you ask me.  I mean, you might as well add some grass to a bowl full of cracked barley, pour some vodka on it and eat it with a spoon.  Or a fork.

But, see, the other reviewers here are pretty committed to deep throating these beastly beers… and I’m trying to understand why.  As such, I’ve decided to make my first ever IPA.  Now, I’ve been brewing beer for 15 years– in college, before I was old enough to buy a 12-pack for myself, I figured out that I was old enough to buy the ingredients to make a keg of my own.  Me being the curious, industrious drunk that I am, making a keg of beer seemed like a lot better (and cheaper) than buying one already made.  And it was legal too.  Well, mostly legal, I think.  So I made beer.

And now I’m making another batch, this time an IPA, and I need some empty bottles.  So here we are, looping back to this golden-colored cock, er, glass in front of me.

OK, so this stuff is really drinkable.  It’s actually really enjoyable.  Even my wife kind of likes it, based on the booty-shaking she’s doing in the kitchen behind me.  I might even get laid later.  But– not to bite the hand that feeds me or anything– I think these guys are cheatin’:

They added honey to this shit.  They had to.  It’s basically the color of Budweiser, and there ain’t no way they could get ahold of this whopping 9-oh alcohol and keep that color without adding either light honey or a massive rice extract kicker.  The extra sugar in it gives it that slippery smoothness that makes it palateable despite the whopping load of flavoring hops in there.  It’s like they put some honey-flavored lube on just before skullfucking you with a beastly meatpole.  And I like it.  Never thought I’d say I like getting skullfucked by a honey-flavored meatpole, but hey, there’s a first for everything.

And the hop notes in the nose are nice.  There are some fresh, floral notes there.  So I guess I could say it cuddles a little first, before it does the aforementioned skullfucking.

I mean, if Big Alcohol is your goal, why not just make a straight pale ale, dry hop it and then pour a gallon of Stoli vodka into the fermenter with it?  Be easier.

But really… I’m not knocking these guys.  This is great beer.  Way, way better than most of the hop monster meatpoles I’ve been gagging on all week.  It’s just that it got me thinking… about things like skullfucking and vodka.  What the hell’s up with that?

Everywhere I look, everybody’s just spewing forth the distributor’s line on this wine:

The 2006 Boxcar Pinot Noir is true to its Russian River Valley roots in flavor and structure. Lush and mouthwatering, it bursts of wild raspberry, Lambert cherry, and cardamom spice. The nose offers up tea leaves and rhubarb pie, while the finish is smooth and satisfying. Pretty yet powerful, this second select wine tastes top notch.

…and that bullshit is pretty close to the mark, however uncreative it might be. This is a really nice-drinkin’ wine that embodies a whole lot of what I love about Russian River Pinots: it’s got some layers to it, some complexity; there are hints of earthtones in the mouthfeel and the tea leaves bit is pretty much spot-on. The nose, however, is not that distinctive pure Russian River Pinot nose: complex, earthy and crisp with cola accents and touches of forest floor. The nose of the Boxcar reminds of of the last time I passed out face first in a cherry pie after spilling my vodka in it. It’s a fond (if foggy) memory, of course, which is probably partly why I really like this wine.

Now, you have to understand that I’m splitting hairs here: overall, this is some outstanding shit and I’m most certainly going to happily finish off this bottle tonight. I hate to sound like a snob; but, after years of hanging out with winegrowers, I understand the challenges of Pinot Noir growing and know that part of the reason for the high price of good California Pinot is that it’s a real bitch to grow properly, and that top-grade fruit is at a premium. And the price tag bears out here: this is not the best fruit from the vineyards they sourced. It’s good fruit, sure, and it’s excellent for the price, but it’s pretty clearly the B-grade fruit from their source vineyards. It’s a little riper than you usually see in Russian River pinots– as if these guys came in and bought up the leftover fruit a couple of weeks after MacPhail cleaned out the vineyard. Then Boxcar trucked the fruit down to Santa Maria and let it sit around for a day or two before crush.

Is it unfair to judge a wine next to wines that are double its price? Probably. But I’m trying to give some frame of reference here, and there just aren’t a lot of good Russian River wines at this price point ($27 retail) to compare to. So, unfortunately for them, Boxcar is the one 10-year old on the Under-12 soccer team here.

OK, to be fair, I just got my fat ass up off the couch and poured another glass. With 2 hours of air on it, this stuff has really settled down a lot. That 14.5% ABV is less apparent in the nose. That Russian River goodness is down there, you can smell it but you have to be on the lookout for it. It’s just that the nuance gets lost in yet another winemaker attempting to turn a Pinot into a Cab– a trend in some Cali Pinots these days (think Kosta Browne). It’s too big for it’s britches– it needs to settle down, back off stop shouting for a second and let us listen closer and hear the whispers.

Overall, what you have here is a very good California Pinot that really wants to be a Cab. It’s big and slightly jammy, fairly alcoholic and really tasty; though not a classic, nuanced Russian River Valley Pinot Noir. If I can find it, I’ll pay the extra $13 for Davis Family wine… but I can’t find it, so what good is that? And, at this price point, you can’t really complain– it’s worth every penny. MacPhail and Kosta Browne are twice as expensive but not twice as good; so from that perspective, this wine is a real bargain and a big winner.

I’m going to avoid a point score here because, if this were a wrestling match, there would be no other wines in this one’s weight class. So it gets 100 points in its class, but it’s the only one I know of in the group.

Take me home boyz, I think I’m drunk.

Scale, what scale?

According to the Lightning Brewery website Ionizer is a “pre-prohibition premium American lager.” Initial appearance after pouring revealed a clear, deep golden hue. There was no noticeable hop aroma. In fact, I initially smelled corn and confirmed through the website that this beer is brewed with some corn adjunct “to provide extra fermentable sugars,” probably necessary to achieve 8.3% ABV. I cracked this 22 ouncer during a family barbecue, so naturally I had an audience and some additional (more worthy, accurate) impressions.

My first taste impression was a nostalgic trip back to my early teens when I would sneak sips of my parents’ Coors Banquet Beer. Not Coors Light mind you, we are talking about the full flavor gold can. Still, it would be inaccurate to imply that Ionizer is analogous to Coors B.B. In fact Ionizer would be analogous to Coors Imperial Lager if such a thing existed. The corn impression was evident on the palate as well, and was followed by sweet malt, a slight hop bitterness, and a dry, crisp lager finish. This beer was a stronger, better made version of many of the lackluster lagers that are cranked out in the American market. Just about everybody present (all non beer geeks) gave a positive impression of the beer, yet I was bored. Again, a well made beer, just not in a style that I would seek out.

Giving Ionizer to to some dedicated American Lager drinkers would be an interesting experiment. The best part of the experiment would be to see the damage caused by the 8.3% ABV on those who throw a couple back. Is this the gateway beer to better things, ween them off the domestics with Ionizer, the Imperial of domestics?

86/100 points on the BoozeReviews scale.

There is also mention of kegs of this beer (and Briscoe) being saved for the opening of the new pub in the same building as the brewery right next door. Rumor has it this will be a barbecue joint…Now on to the beer review!

I picked up a bottle of Chez Monieux from Alpine on Tuesday, April 15th, the “day after taxes” release party. Split the bottle with three friends to ease the financial pain of purchasing a beer of this caliber. At $26.95 a bottle, this may be a tough one to swallow for those not used to paying for perfection!
This was one experience that I couldn’t pass up, as industry insiders have called this new release from Alpine Beer Company the best Kriek in the United States. Who am I to argue?

I was not disappointed. This beer pours a clear reddish color. An ample amount of carbonation illuminates this rosy hue. Not much head on this as it was poured into a stemless Riedel tulip.
The first taste was tart, sour, and not overly cherrified. The second felt smooth, with a light mouthfeel that doesn’t linger on the tongue. Notes of wine, wood, and spices; this was a tasting unlike any other that I have experienced before. For those of you that love Supplication, Red Poppy,and Kasteel’s Kriek, you’ll thoroughly enjoy this beer. If you haven’t tried this beer yet, SHAME ON YOU!

Official BoozeReviews Score:  90/100

 L’Chaim!

No, even though this is a wine blog, it’s not Blackberry Jam and Currant. It’s much, much better than that.

Let me give you a hint: I just woke up to one. Well, sort of.

It’s wet and sloppy, and probably tastes like shit.

Nope, not Butt Juice After Crap either.

I’m talking here about the institution of the Blow Job Alarm Clock, probably the single most appreciated gift a woman can give her man. You’re laying there, pleasantly dreaming about what you usually dream about (Twister® sex with midgets), when - lo and behold - you wake up to find your junk being oh so vigorously serviced by the woman you love (or the bar whore you dragged home last night, whichever works). You weren’t expecting it, you were just laying there on your back, minding your own business, soundly asleep, and **Bling Bling** your day starts off with a Bang (or loud pop, at least).

This wine, for me, was like a BJAC. This ‘06 Ketcham RRV Pinot caught me completely by surprise, so much so that I think I just hosed down my cellar fridge with a yogurt-like substance.

Now, you may be wondering to yourself “Self, WTF? Ketcham is made by Michael Browne, of Kosta-Browne fame, so why would this disgusting jackass be surprised that it’s good?”

I certainly can’t blame you for thinking this. In fact, if you are thinking this, pat yourself on the back for having at least a passing knowledge of Cali Pinot lore, and then pat yourself on the balls for being sure enough of yourself to hold my opinions suspect. You really shouldn’t be taking me all that seriously.

Here’s the thing: this reviewer found the ‘05 Ketcham (that’s last year’s vintage, for the mathematically challenged) to be more flabbier than Rush Limbaugh’s ass. Flappier than Nixon’s jowels. Heavier-handed than a serial public-masturbator. More bloated than your Aunt Buella– you know, Aunt Buella, your rotund, all-boob midwestern auntie with the roadkill shawl, who, along with her skinny husband Pete, has more cars and garden gnomes growing in her yard than she has teeth. In short, it was a big-old overripe, fat-assed fruit bomb– so much so that I felt like saving it for a dinner that would otherwise require a late harvest zin. It had none of RRV’s trademark terroir, little nuance. It was like an un-neutered Rottweiler at a poodle breeder’s house: just fucking the shit out of all it’s unsuspecting victims without remorse or style.

So much so that, having tasted the ‘05 after ordering the ‘06, I was disappointed that I ordered the ‘06 at all, and even considered canceling my allocation order. Let me just say now that I am soooo glad I didn’t.

This ‘06 is a totally different beast than the ‘05. It’s as if Michael Browne ate some mushrooms, had a vision, found himself, and decided he wanted to make a true Pinot Noir, not a fruit-bomb Cali variation like some of Kosta Browne’s releases.

All the Russian River area Pinot growers had a scary year in ‘06. Late-season heavy rain and mid-summer temperature spikes led to a general concern that much of the crop would be lost, or that the fruit wouldn’t have optimum growing conditions and would not have an opportunity to ripen in the temperate conditions that Pinot grapes love. Ketcham dropped 50% of their Pommard fruit and 35% of the Dijon in ‘06, to allow the rest of the fruit to reach an acceptable concentration. But, as was the case with Kanzler Vineyard’s ‘06 release, the less-than-idea seasons of ‘06 led to some really interesting, complex and enjoyable wines. This Ketcham is in that class.

This ‘06 is crisp, bright, nuanced and rich as a Pinot should be. It carries with it loads of RRV’s distinctive terroir: hearty earthtones, cola, cardamom, maybe even a little bit of redwood bark underneath a really intense shot of perfectly-ripe red fruit: cherry, strawberry, maybe a touch of cranberry or raspberry, but not too much. The tannins are nicely balanced– this baby’s going to lay up nicely, probably for up to 5 or 6 more years (glad I have 2 more bottles!), but it’s really fun right now, when all the flavors haven’t yet figured out that they can talk to one-another, even hop into a daisy chain with one another (as I suspect they will). I can’t wait to hit this one again in a few years and compare notes.

I have to give this one a 105, which combines the actual flavor of the wine with the fact that it surprised the shit out of me. Add another 10 for the BJAC recollection it inspired. Take away 5 for the flabby-ass ‘05 and you get 110 points: a real winner of a Pinot.

This is a $13 Pinot that knocked my socks off. Literally, I’m barefoot (and bare-assed) right now. (Great visual).

Gotta tell ya about my night. I just dug up me old Weber, resurrected it after 5 years of apartment-living torment in which I could only cook with a gas grill. So tonight, I got meeself a nice, thick New York steak, and I branded the motherfucker with my initials. Really. A buddy of mine got me my own brand. Got the fire nice and hot, coated the steak with rock salt and course-ground black pepper and threw her on a hot bed of coals in the Weber. Meanwhile, I unscrewed the top on this bottle of Pinot, poured me a glass, and cooked up some shittake mushrooms in garlic, butter and piss-poor merlot. 10 minutes on the grill and I poured the mushies on top of my ready-to-eat slab of corn fed cow.

Man, nothin’ beats a Weber.

I know. Steak should equal zin, syrah or cab. I say fuck that. I’ll drink Pinot while I eat turds and like it, if it’s a good one (Pinot, not turd. The turd can taste like turd if the Pinot’s good).

So now, an hour later, the steak is a thing of the past and the wondrous thing known as “steak farts” hasn’t yet poked it’s gopher’s head out my hole; but this Pinot’s just warming up, and I’m just about done with the bottle. Holy shit, this is a $40 Pinot in disguise. The winery is called “The Red Square (For the People)” and the label states “For the People is our pledge to you, the wine consumer, our artisan product at every day prices.” Bad grammar aside, the rest is right on the money. This stuff kicks the shit out of a couple of the $50 Russian River allocation-only Pinots I got this spring. I’ll take this over a Benovia anytime. It’s nice and crisp, not flabby, with a nice shot of tart cherry up front and just a hint of black fruit on the ass-end. It smells like a Pinot in that there’s lots going on in the nose– I get gravel, cola, cherry and a nuance of cardamom. Maybe there’s a little stripper perfume in there: sweat, tobacco and vanilla mixed together into that one-of-a-kind balance that only a stripper can bear with dignity. Well, maybe not vanilla in this case. More like strawberry shortcake.

At a straight-up 14% ABV it’s no lightweight, though it’s not a fruit bomb like a lot of Cali Pinots are starting to be. It’s got some class, some balance. It’s wine, not cherry pie. Not too light in the glass, and not inky either; though it’s aged enough now that it’s got better-than-average color. In fact, being an ‘04 of relatively low tannin — meaning the tannin is perfectly balanced now — I can’t see it lasting much longer than it has already.

I got this stuff, of all places, at Cost Plus. So it’s got to be a pretty large production wine. It’s clearly a blend of fruit from Martinborough and Hawkes Bay vineyards– which just means I’m now off to find other wines made from fruit in that region. If this is the low-end large-production wine from that area, then I wanna find the rest. There goes my home equity.

Oh well.

Booze reviews score: 95 points for the wine, +20 more for the price of the wine, minus 5 for bad grammar on the label and minus 2 more for the really off bouquet of the first steak fart of the night. Smelled like someone else’s fart, not one of mine. Can’t have that.