whatchudrinkin?

It’s Hop Henge season again! Hop Henge is possibly my favorite double IPA. The flavors are dead on again this year. Last year’s recipe went toward pineapple and tangerine. This year it’s mango and then— pine! It’s got big, tingly mouthfeel. I love a good hop tingle in my IPAs. It’s not a flavor, it’s a feeling. It hits my tongue and spreads out through my whole body. So good.

I tried some stout porters with some Steins for my birthday last weekend. We started with Black Butte Porter and Obsidian Stout from Deschutes, dark and darker.

Then we moved on to selections from Southern Tier’s Blackwater Series. Jahva, Choklat, and Creme Brulee. The names say it all. Jahva tasted like smooth, chocolaty espresso with a nice crema on top. The Choklat was like chocolate milk or hot cocoa gone cold. I was expecting to find unblended syrup on the bottom. And the Creme Brulee was — it was divisive. On one hand sweet and milky, on the other cloying and tooth decaying. 

And we finished the night with a fresh bottle of the Abyss. Definitely darker and more complex than the beer that came before. Where the Blackwater beers hit one note and stuck with it, the Abyss is a bit harder to pin down. Roasted and chocolaty, yet dry and fruity. Definitely a good end for the night.

One six pack, five vessels.

An experiment: how does the shape of the glass affect the experience of the beer?

Test four: the teku glass.

The teku is a sort of exaggerated tulip glass. Invented by Teo Musso, of the Italian microbrewery Baladin, and Kuaska, a sensory analyst. Designed like the ISO glass — the standard for wine tasting, the teku is supposedly the perfect glass for fancy beer. The bowl is huge, the neck tapered, and the lip flared. It’s elegant but modern.

Mirror Pond tastes the same in a teku as any other glass. Citrus and bready malt combine, but the beer is brought down by a watery character. The teku makes it “feel fancy.” It’s a glass for sipping slowly. 

One six pack, five vessels.

An experiment: how does the shape of the glass affect the experience of the beer?

Test four: imperial pint.

The imperial pint holds a half liter of beer, or a pint with a healthy head. Also known as a tulip pint, the shape is pinched at the bottom but balloons in the middle, allowing more room for swirling. The imperial pint has the size and stackability of the shaker pint and the ballooning shape of a tulip glass.

After being properly warmed, the subject poured the fourth Mirror Pond Pale Ale rapidly into the imperial pint glass. The large head added to his enjoyment of the beer. The imperial pint is optimally shaped for quaffing.

One six pack, five vessels.

An experiment: how does the shape of the glass affect the experience of the beer?

Test three: the tulip glass.

A rounded bowl set an inch above the bar top with a pinched next and slightly flared lip — sophisticated yet bulbous — the tulip glass is the favorite of beer nerds and fancy beer bars. Designed to keep beer at the right temperature and oxygenated, the tulip glass also lets the drinker swirl the beer to her hearts content, with very little spillage.

Our subject enjoys the tulip, which keeps him from drinking it too fast. The flavors are almost the same as from a pint glass. He does need to remember the beer is too cold straight from the fridge. Let it warm up!

One six pack, five vessels.

An experiment: how does the shape of the glass affect the experience of the beer?

Test two: the shaker pint.

The pint glass is a multipurpose instrument. It can be used to serve beer, water, soda pop, long island ice tea, a Shirley Temple, whatever you got. The pint glass is somewhere between conical and cylindrical in shape and made of thick glass. They are stack-able and many are emblazoned with brewery logos or colorful characters. The shaker pint is the preferred glass of bars and restaurants, because of it’s many uses and easy cleaning and storage.

The pint glass allows the subject to properly smell the beer, “orange and grapefruit juice, plus bread.” The taste is fuller, though the subject complained that the beer was a little too cold. 

One six pack, five vessels.

An experiment: how does the shape of the glass affect the experience of the beer?

Test one: the Bottle.

A cylindrical vessel with a tapered neck with a small opening, or mouth, at the top. The preferred vessel of the uniformed, the outdoors man, and the layabout, the beer bottle is usually brown and labeled with the contents of the bottle. In this case the subject is sampling a Mirror Pond Pale Ale from the renowned Deschutes Brewery in Bend, Oregon.

The beer is of unknown color and consistency, though we must presume pale. The smell is hard to discern, but with the nostrils pressed against the lip of the bottle, a hint of citrus is noticable. The beer is poured into the mouth by lifting the bottle; it tastes of bright citrus and toasted bread. On the tongue it feels slightly oily. The intoxicating effects of the beer are unfettered, but the subject feels letdown. The sensory experience is unsatisfying, like the soul of the beer has been lost.

The Oregon IPA Invitational is finally finished. It only took six months. Five beers entered last night, and one walked away the winner. I would like to thank all our tasters and guinea pigs. We couldn’t do it without you.

The first beer up was fruity — an orangey scent, but extra bitter with a surprising alcohol burn. Sara says it tasted pink. Dan was afraid it would all be downhill from here. Mitch said it was bland and uninspiring. But Mitch liked number two the best, so don’t listen to him.

Our second beer was totally off, completely and totally screwed up. An IPA shouldn’t taste like that. Smokey, like bacon — Sara said it tastes like it’s on fire. It was super cloudy like fresh apple cider. Chelsea wrote that smokey the beer says don’t drink alone, or this beer at all. It was chocolaty and weird. It was a bottle from Captured by Porches, a surprise winner in an earlier round. They package their beers in recycled swing-top bottles, which don’t seal perfectly. These two bottles were probably infected.

Caroline and Tristan thought the third beer smelled like cat pee, which turned all our tasters off — for a few minutes. Smells like oranges and tastes like grapefruit, with a hint of pine. I even got a hint of cinnamon. Tristan didn’t hate it.

Beer four didn’t have much to recommend it. It was just beer. Dan ranked it number two, but it just bitter and meh. Weak and bland. Mitch hated it. He wanted to water the lawn with it — like the fast food of beer. Chelsea said it had a bitter heart with a left over box of chocolates. 

The fifth and final beer probably got a little ignored. We were all a little bored at this point. Everything was tasting similar. Tristan said it tasted like nail polish remover. Dan said it was just OK — balanced but not exciting. A crispy, bitter November day according to Chelsea.

When the voting finished, beer one, Inversion IPA from Deschutes Brewery came out on top. But then Mitch showed up and turned the whole contest upside down. Gigantic, beer number three, moved up a few points and tied it up. But no vote is a real contest without a recount. 

OUR WINNER AND IPA CHAMPION IS: GIGANTIC IPA!

The results:

1. Gigantic IPA: 16 points (three #1 votes)
2. Inversion IPA: 16 points (two #1 votes)
3. Total Domination IPA: 27 points
4. Caldera IPA: 28 points
5. Invasive Species: 33 points

I went down to Deschutes’ Portland Pub just in time today. They were running out of sample trays when we left. I had the pleasure of tasting five years of Deschutes’ signature beer: The Abyss.

Fresh! The 2012 bottling just came out, today. On tap it’s a powerful bugger, bold and in your face. Big dark chocolate and coffee, but very sweet in the middle and really bitter on the finish. Something sticky like molasses coats the tongue.

2011 was our least favorite year. Rubbing alcohol heat crushed the mellower chocolate flavors. The aftertaste was still full of coffee.

The 2010 was more mellow, subtle. Tobacco came to the fore, like grampas old pipe. More chocolate on the finish with a lingering alcohol heat.

The three year old keg had a bit more punch than the 2010 but less alcolhol. Black coffee dominated, with a hit of leather. Licorice and tobacco made an appearance. Definitely more complex.

Somehow after four years the fruit comes forward in the 2008 — cherries in dark chocolate tort. It’s more smooth than earlier year, but it looks like balsamic vinegar.

This beer seems only to get better with age. 

I have a bottle of the 2011 vintage squirreled away, but if the flight I enjoyed today is any indication, I might be better off losing for another year or three.