I think it’s telling that our 400th post here at Barbeerians is a review of a Dogfish beer. Even before my days of getting into Dogfish beer at Michigan, the mystique surrounding the Delaware craft brewery was at atmospheric levels. It was unobtainable in Montana, and their 120 Minute IPA was one of the costliest beers on the menu at our favorite bar in Ann Arbor. So when I first started diving into craft beers, Dogfish rose to the top quickly. I still like seeking out all of their selections. Even if a raspberry or blueberry puree beer doesn’t sound like the best thing, there’s a damn good chance the beer will be drinkable and unlike anything else you’ll ever try. But with this innovation comes some luck. Even when I do try a funky Dogfish beer, I’m afraid the ~$15 I’ve spent could deliver something like a glorified grape juice. So sometimes, it’s nice to find a solid and down-to-earth beer from Dogfish that isn’t made from insect wings or golden pixie dust gathered from a lunar module, which is partly why I’m such an enormous fan of the Dogfish Head Immort Ale, a beer packed with some rather stock flavors that come together to form a tasty crescendo of everyday beer elements.
You know the guy that’s always sitting at the bar? You know, the bar you always go to after work or at least once a weekend? He never sits at a table. He always seems to find a seat at the bar no matter how many people are there. You’ve never seen him arrive, and you’ve never watched him leave. Somehow, though, he will always have a seat, and he will always draw a crowd around him. He’s always cool-headed and doesn’t do anything too exciting and doesn’t go out of his way to start a scene, nor does he go out of his way to do any grand gestures for the other bar-goers. But there he is. Every time you go to the bar, he is there. He’s a guy you’ve thought of talking to numerous times, but you always decide to go another route, just barely making eye contact, just enough to know you’re there. But he notices you, too. He knows you’re at the bar. And he wants to talk to you. What do you do? Well, you sit next to him in that one empty bar stool at the oak-lined bar that hits you in the face with a scent of bleach and thick malt. You sit down. He orders you a 60 Minute IPA from Dogfish Head, a beer you’ve had dozens of times, and you sit, and you listen.
One of the great bonuses of living in D.C. now is my newly-acquired close proximity to Delaware, and, most importantly, Dogfish Head. What I thought was rather easy to grab in Michigan is often available on tap at most bars in the area. Dogfish’s 60 Minute is now the Fat Tire of the East when it comes to availability (not talking about taste at all; that debate’s for another day, though). I hope to take the trek east to visit the brewery soon, but for now I have to settle for coming across some true rarities that are damn near impossible to find outside the halls of their creative brewery. Due to the grand generosity of fellow blogger John Fleury, I was able to sample a couple glasses of the super-rare Wrath of Pecant beer that first appeared at the Extreme Beer Fest 2010 in Boston that occurred last February. The beer’s a semi-collaboration between Beer Advocate and Dogfish Head, and a beer I’d actually forgotten about. However, after even a small sampling, I’m happy to say it’s a brew I won’t forget anytime soon.
One of the highlights of my trip to the East was a whirlwind adventure down to Washington D.C. to have a little BarBEERians reunion. Aside from all the great beer we drank, it was awesome to hear from Matt about the stuff he has been drinking that we really don’t have access to in Montana. Hey, and maybe someday when his work slows down a bit,k he’ll be able to tell all you loyal readers about it too. Of course there was some good beer on stock at his house and after much debate, we made a courageous decision to get into a bottle of Black and Blue from Dogfish Head Craft Brewery. It is a strong ale brewed with blackberry and blueberry puree. It sounded interesting, as lots of Dogfish stuff does, and well, interesting it was.
The Black and Blue didn’t really remind me of a beer so much as a sparkling cider, but the sort of sparkling cider you wished you had when you were 15: the kind that has a bit of a kick to it. The ruby red elixir had almost no head and was wafting up an aroma that reminded me of my grandmother: white zinfandel. Or a cran-blackberry sparkling cider. Not really too appealing, but you never know, so onward we plunged. It kicked off showing us its boozy character and quickly turned sweet and puckering, but as the small champagne like carbonation bubbles crawled across the palate, it took on a fruity character with a solid sour backbone. As it warmed, the fruit became less pronounced, which as far as I’m concerned was a good thing, and the octane of the beer started to show up even more. Sort of a double edge sword with the whole warming issue.
When I headed east, I was excited to dive head first into everything Dogfish. And I did try the 60, 90, and 120 minute IPAs, but after the Black and Blue, I was struck by a sudden realization. Even pop0el who make great brews and have lots of experience with the industry are led awry sometimes. The black and BLue is one of those times. I found it to be more like a carbonated wine than a beer and was pretty unimpressed. It wasn’t until a wrote this review that I noticed why the beer hadn’t hooked me. Its not that it was bad, it just wasn’t what I look for in beer. It lacked a lot of the great characteristics of beer I have come to love (malt and especially hops). Although it was a quasi-tasty beverage, I would never recommend it to someone who is in the mood for a beer. That being said, it might improve and become more complex if it aged for 18 or so months. Check out what Sam Calagione has to say about it!
Sierra Nevada Brewing Co. and Dogfish Head Craft Brewery Collaboration, Chico, CA and Milton, DE
To say this beer has a reputation would be an understatement. The most sought-out and appealing collaboration of 2009 was no doubt the Life & Limb / Limb & Life series by two of my favorite places, Dogfish Head and Sierra Nevada. We’d been trying to get our hands on Life & Limb for quite a long time. We were pretty sure it would never come to Montana (it didn’t), we didn’t think it would come to a nearby state (we were probably right), we held out hope for someone finding a bottle and bringing it back to Montana with them (no luck), and finally, we resorted to trying to grab a bottle or two on eBay (failed in every auction). Judging by the prices set on the eBay auctions, this was a special beer (we’re talking ~$80 for a pair of 24oz bottles). After 2009 trickled to an end and we entered 2010, our hopes of finding and tasting Life & Limb were looking bleaker and bleaker. But then a job move to D.C. and a crop of new beer bars got my hopes up that I still might find a bottle. So it came as an amazing find to run into not only Life & Limb in D.C., but to also find it on tap AND to find Limb & Life right beside it. There was no doubt about my choice; it was time to take the plunge into the beer I’d been searching for for months.
I’ve reviewed some mean beers before (Founders Imperial Stout comes to mind, as does Rogue’s Imperial Bitter) but I have never been confronted with a beer that forced you to sit down, shut up, and respect it while drinking like Dogfish Head‘s World Wide Stout. It’s a beer that sounds pretty snazzy and adventurous, but inside the bottle is a monster of a beer that is looking to destroy a village, a city, even a universe. This isn’t a world wide stout; this is a universe-crushing, black hole-esque, tongue-gripping, behemoth of all behemoths. At 18% ABV, you’re looking at a beer that is looking to slug you in the face over and over until you can’t stand it anymore. The World Wide Stout was one I’d heard a lot about, seen on beer menus before (for an astronomical price), and knew was something I had to try. When I saw it at a beer market in a bottle for a high price (but not astronomical), it was time to take the plunge. World Wide Stout was ready to work its magic on me.
Wouldn’t you know it—I take a trip to Michigan and I end up drinking Turkish beer. Well, kind of. Many of you have probably already helped yourself to Midas Touch, one of Dogfish Head Craft Brewery‘s year round selections. But for us Montana beer lovers, it’s awfully hard—if not impossible—to find many Dogfish creations. I was relieved, though, to find a whole shelf of Dogfish libations lining a cooler in a small food market, Martha’s Vineyard, just outside downtown Grand Rapids. And Midas Touch was a beer that was beckoning.
Midas Touch is brewed according to the oldest known fermented beverage recipe in the world, which was found in King Midas’ 2,700 year old tomb. I guess you can say this beer has some clout, if you can really call it a beer. It’s fermented from honey, and the beautiful golden-amber honey color surely told me this was true. Smelling like a bundle of apples and pears, Midas Touch reminded me more of an apple cider malt beverage than a 9% ABV beer. It was hard to guess that there was even any alcohol in it at all. The taste meshed with the scent wonderfully, though, with a surprisingly smooth and energetic heap of carbonation tracing the lines of apple, honey, and other dull-sweet fruits. The booze was more apparent near the final third of the taste, with the apple cider-like finish making this a very refreshing and appealing drink. I’ve had some Belgian ales I could draw some pretty close comparisons to but the correlation to a boozier apple cider malt drink might be the closest I can get.
Midas Touch is a refreshing and easily drinkable libation that has all the easy-going traits of a Pabst but with the dangerous side of a scorpion. Dogfish Head says this is a beer for wine drinkers, and that is without a doubt accurate. Does this mean that if you’re a beer drinker and a beer drinker only that you’ll hate this creative brew? Possibly, but it was interesting for me to take a step back and imagine this as a meet-and-greet between contemporary beer stylings and the traditional and ancient flavors of old. It’s not something I’d do everyday, but it’s always nice to know where we came from. And how we got here.