You’d think I’d learn after trying an import from Poland (“cool!”) that turned out to be their Malt Liquor (“dag nabbit!”) that trying odd Eastern European imports with labels in foreign languages is a wild gamble.  But if you’ve been reading my posts so far, you now know that I never learn.  Those brain cells died in a puddle of Schlitz long ago.  This time, it’s from Mother Russia — Baltika Number 6, which is something called a “Baltic Porter”.  In keeping with my policy of never learning, I have also not done my homework to figure out exactly what that is, but I drink on, nonetheless.

Baltika Numero Six is not bad, just off a bit.  Not skunky, despite the intercontinental trip to Socal.  None of the flavors are bad, though there are a LOT of them.  Not too astringent, though I was expecting the first sip to dissolve my front teeth, as so often happens with extra-strong imports.  But it’s just… different — an odd mismash of flavors that don’t quite all work together.  Something’s just not quite right — maybe something’s lost in the translation, maybe this is what Baltic Porters are supposed to be, but I’m not buyin’ it.  Why not?  Check out their website – you can look up the Baltika’s official homepage for all their beers (they run from 1 through 9).  For Number 6, you’ll see a strange juxtaposition of hip, modern Russian youngster spinnin’ trax on the DJ set on the left, next to this description of Baltika No. 6 on the right:

“Baltika’s porter is one of the most eminent varieties of Russian beer with a long heritage.  Energy value: 60 kilocalories per 100 g of beer.  Nutritional value: not more than 6.0 g of carbohydrates per 100 g of beer.”

Wow — that has to be the most arid, scientific beer slogan I’ve ever seen.  Keep in mind, this is on their official website, where you’re supposed to sing the praises of your product, not post half of an AP Chemistry word problem.  And it about sums it up for Baltika No. 6 — like the emergence of Russian glam rock bands after glastnost, Baltika No. 6 is just a little too alien for my taste.

Now don’t get the wrong impression here. I’m not saying its bad, because it certainly isn’t. I had two bottles of the stuff myself. This may even be the beer that you can get your “I only drink real alcohol” snob buddies to drink. I just wanted to make sure and give you all a heads up about what to expect, and to give you an idea of how much your breath will smell like a boozy hobo when you’re done. Salud!

And the beer?  Well, I like my Smithwick’s as much as anyone else, but the beer in the kegs in the above photo is the actual best beer in Ireland:  Guinness.   Slainte!

One taste was all it took to fill my mouth with the essence of soap-bubble badness. Whatever hop they loaded this taste-bud assault with just wasn’t working for me. I quickly dumped this thing down the drain after giving Frosty a taste just to make sure I wasn’t being the picky bastard I’m normally known as.

He concurred and this “brew” was relegated to the wonders of the TVWD’s sewer system. Sorry Kona, try again…..less soap next time.

Naturally, I had to pick up a bottle — just weird enough for me to drink. After popping off the cap, a dense wad of beer foam oozed up to say hello, at roughly the pace and shape of one of those black snake firecrackers that never fail to disappoint on the 4th of July. “That’s odd”, I thought, making a mental note not to make a “happy to see me?” joke about it in my beer review, since that would be unoriginal and lame.  Nearly as unoriginal and lame as naming an Indian beer “maharaja”…

At first, it seemed strikingly sour, but it turned out this was because I had just consumed the World’s Sweetest Drink In The World (in case you’re interested, the “creamsicle”: amaretto, triple sec, OJ, sour mix, tonic, and some dental fillings, because you’re going to need them), without adequately rebooting my palate. After a sip or two, it turned out to be surprisingly good. I was almost shocked — I saw a beer imported from India, picked it up expecting (even looking forward to) some serious skunkiness, but it tasted as fresh as an MGD. Compared to some of the skunky disappointments I’ve gotten from other parts of the world (like half the stuff from Ireland), this was a definite pleasant surprise. I guess there must be a lot more demand for Indian beers than Irish beers in my neighborhood.  Which I can live with.  Because this Irish dude is multiculturally sensitive, hyper-aware of the un-PC leanings of beer labels, but most importantly, much happier to live in a neighborhood with Indian food (“mmm, buttery garlic nan”) than Irish food (“huh — did they have to boil everything, even the check?”).

So it was with some trepidation that I sat down with my on again off again lover, New Belgium, to try their latest fruit beer concoction. The first thing I noticed was the audaciousness of it. This wasn’t your standard “gonna try it but not commit” 22 oz, but rather a full on 6 pack of bottles. Buying a six pack of something like this is a real commitment of trust between the brewer and the buyer. As in, this better be good, or there will be 5 unused bottled flying through the air toward Fort Collins.

Thankfully, due to a sale at the beer swiller, I took that leap of faith, and brought home a 6 pack. Now, home, I popped one open and braced myself. I was ready for tang, I was ready for yuck, but what I wasn’t ready for was….what the hey, this is good! It was a nice mellow brown ale, with a raspberry flavor that complimented it, without punching your tastebuds with a “HEY IM RASPBERRY, TASTE ME!”. In the summer time, sipping a beer in the shade by the grill, this Ale would be a perfect easy drinker; an ideal fruity escape from the cheap boxed wine your neighbor brings to the 4th of July party.

It is a bit sweet, so one a day certainly was enough (still not quite sure about the 6 pack thing), but I must tip my hat to old NB for making something that did the fruit beer world proud.

In an effort to brew something that satisfied both the night before and the morning after, they instead created what is officially the worst beer I’ve ever tasted.

If you celebrate the heartiness of the winter beers then Rogue Mogul Madness is a beer worth celebrating. Rogue Mogul Madness is one of my new favorite cold weather beers, period.  It is as comforting as a mug of post-sledding hot chocolate; Rogue Moguls pours a deep brown like a cup of hot coffee, and is as inviting as a bubbling hot tub beckoning your sore muscles.  After an initial hoppy bite, toasted malt takes over along with a faint nuttiness and the caramelized goodness of a toffee barits like chomping into dark chocolate candy. When you first release this aroma from the bottle do not be intimidated.  Instead in hail deeply the aroma that comes forth.  It will transport you to a place of comfort and relaxation.   So sit back and enjoy a beer you will remember as much as the double diamond you conquered earlier in the day.

But one evening, a dear friend of mine brought over this giant bottle, claiming in terribly misspelled letters that it was brewed with chocolate. I poured. I cringed. I braced myself. I sipped. And I said… ‘OMG Chocolate!’.

This stuff is just straight amazing. Its almost like drinking a chocolate liqueur (11% alchohol – woot!). Its still a stout mind you, with all the subtle stout thickness you would expect, but man can you taste the cocoa goodness. And it’s fantastic.

The only downside to this stuff is because it is so sweet and rich, you really can’t drink a whole one yourself. Call this a “party” drink. Fun for everyone to have a taste, but too wickedly alcoholic to drink solo. Although the potential that they attempted such a feat when trying to spell the title would certainly explain things.

This time around, we welcome a new face into the stable of home-brew heroes: Todd Stadelhofer. When not battling the ravages of bad software code, Todd takes the time to make some ridiculously meticulous beer varieties. Todd has the current distinction of being the only guy in cubicle land who posts his recipe outside his cubicle. Beer geeks are awesome!

Todd’s inaugural beer was a tasty dry hopped Pale Ale title “Springboard”. I couldn’t tell you more about the varieties of hops or anything, cause that’s not the sort of thing I do. I can tell you however, that despite not generally liking overly hoppy beer, I found Springboard to be wonderful for an all night design session. I was hesitant at first, but man, nothing makes a crap-tastic project go by quickly quite like a 22oz. of refreshing Pale Ale.

So here’s to you Todd. May your brewing skills live on, and your beer geekery reach new heights. My liver salutes you.