BACK IN BLACK

Two more weeks, and we're back on the ball. Drinks to be had, stories to be told, trouble to be made...mark March 3rd on your calender, kids, and tighten your seat belt.




View My Stats

Did it work?

Just testing out the new notice feature. Don't mind me.

SCOTCH!

Wow, look at the cobwebs around here. I guess we're a little overdue.

Since we've been beer-exclusive so far at Jonesydog, we felt it was high time to broaden our usefulness and review something else. My friend Robb got some Scotch for Christmas, adding to a pretty diverse collection. It seemed silly not to sit down and try a bunch of them. So we did. The following report (and a weekend-long bout with Scotch-mouth) resulted.

Before we get to that, though, you should know that we are definitely not professional Scotch tasters. We just like to drink it. Whenever possible. You are fairly warned that we don’t have the same vocabulary or perspective you’re used to when reading Scotch reviews. (If you want to know more about serious Scotch tasting, click here). This review is for all of you out there that don’t care if there’s a fragrant floral finish or whether you can detect esters in the nose. We simply smelled, tasted, and recorded. Then tasted some more. And then stopped tasting and started drinking. I would say it was a long night, but I couldn’t do so from any personal recollection.

Anyway, on the with the Scotch Report:

First up was Bowmore, an Islay whisky that is matured in a sherry cask. No indication of age (meaning that it is probably 3 years old, the minimum required to be sold as Scotch, as I understand the industry--anyone want to correct me on that?), but simply named, “Legend”.

• Color: rich, dark amber hue

• Smell: very smoky/peaty, a little hint of dark chocolate, full but not too heavy

• Taste: very smoky/peaty, spicy, black licorice, black cracked pepper, lasting power, burns a little.

• Notes: Robb didn’t like this one much—way too smoky. But it would go well with a cigar. In fact, it tastes a little like a cigar. I thought it was okay: complex, though I wouldn’t want more than on in any given month.

Next we sampled the Mannochmore. This was easily the oldest in Robb’s collection, from 1977, bottled at 28 years. It is Mannochmore’s signatory vintage and a very powerful 59.7% ABV. An interesting note about Mannochmore is that it was extremely short-lived as far as Scotch producers go: founded in (the very recent) 1971, closed and reopened a couple times, then, depending on what website you believe, either shut down for good or run part time.

• Smell: kind of an alcoholly, turpentine smell, but lighter and sweeter than Bowmore. We also noticed a hint of the ocean, like salt spray or something.

• Color: light, almost lemon/lime

• Taste: mouth is on fire, good slow burn due to the high ABV. Big full taste, smooth fire, robust. Really ignites your mouth.

• Notes: This stuff really tastes like Scotland, makes you want to go fight the English.

The Macallan 12 Year was the one Robb got from my parents for Christmas and probably one of the main catalysts for this entire episode. The Macallan is a Speyside whisky and is distilled inland a bit, on the northern end of the island, about half way between Aberdeen and Inverness (I know this mostly because I stopped there once on my way from Aberdeen to Inverness).

• Color: rich gold

• Description from bottle: Nose: vanilla, hint of ginger, dried fruit, sherry, wood smoke. Smooth, rich dried fruit, wood smoke/spice. I guess this was right, though not in a million years would be able to distinguish wood smoke from any other sort of smoke. Unless it was burnt hair smoke. That has the worst smell. And forever reminds me of Michael Jackson. I know, weird.

• Smell: sweet caramel, dried fruit, light smoke.

• Color: amber, lighter than Bowmore. Looks like it absorbed a little color from the sherry cask it sat in.

• Taste: Distinct Scotch whisky flavor, some heat. After I added a couple drops of water it became so very smooth, with a little spice and fire on the back end. Drinking it was kind of like running a race, then bending over, panting, your muscles slowly relaxing, and then suddenly getting a good spank. Very smooth and drinkable.

Johnnie Walker – Green Label (15 yrs.) Our only whisky that wasn’t strictly a single malt (but also not a “blend,” which is a mix of single malt and grain, like JW Black. The Green Label is “vatted,” meaning it is made up of single malts from more than one distillery), but instead comprised of malts from Talisker, Linkwood, Cragganmore, and Caol Ila.

• Smell: faint smell, sweetest yet. Warm, light smoke.

• Color: light amber

• Taste: pretty smooth and, I thought, less bite than Macallan. Robb thought maybe a little more bite than Macallan. We had to re-taste both several times to verify our conclusions. Definitely the most subtle so far, and the least complex. Very easy to drink.

The grand winner was . . . us, of course, since we spent all night drinking Scotch. But we both agreed that Macallan was the best whisky of the bunch. It's been one of my long-time favorites, I will admit. Our comparative sampling reminded me why: it's just freakin' ungodly good.

If you have a favorite Scotch that I should try, or just want to be generally disagreeable and argue with me, please fell free to post a comment. If you are Romanian and haven't logged on to this site in the last 6 weeks, please note that our advertisers feel you have a lot of catching up to do.

Timişoreana

You know whats awesome? Romanian beer, thats what. Just my two cents.

Jubelale Fail

I had Deschutes Brewery’s Jubelale at Pearl Street Grill a few weekends ago. It was their featured beer, running $2 during happy hour [3-6 p.m., 10 p.m.-midnight, daily: $1 off well, wine, & draught]. That was pretty much why I got it. And because of the wildly colorful label, with the bright primary hues you’d find at a children’s museum. Or on a Bill Cosby sweater. Or a circus tent. I really like the label; colorful things are to me like shiny objects are to . . . I don’t know, ferrets? Anyway, it was as cheap as getting a pop or a lemonade, so I went with it.

Unfortunately, as exciting as the label appeared, the beer behind it was just as dull and uninteresting. Maybe I got caught up in the anticipation and my expectations were too high. Maybe Deschutes’s were too low. The beer didn’t taste bad, mind you. It was just unremarkable. Completely unremarkable. It was like . . . well, we all know someone who endeavored to make his own beer at one time or another, right? He bought the kit, followed the directions, and, when it was all finished, you cracked one open and, low and behold, it worked! The stuff tasted like beer. Probably not like particularly good beer, or interesting beer, but genuine, honest-to-goodness beer. Pretty amazing.

That’s what Jubelale reminds me of: the result of a carefully-followed standard recipe from a prepackaged beer kit, using all the enclosed extracts and hops, and arriving at something that tastes like beer. This is not all bad. Jubelale is very drinkable and unoffending. Very mild, especially for such a dark beer. It’s a winter ale, so it’s a little darker in color than your average ale—maybe like hot chocolate at the deeper end, root beer-like in the shallower parts. But, in the end, it was like drinking plain beer.

And who likes plain? Would you eat a plain Jolly Rancher? Or a plain sandwich? Not any more than you would smoke plain cigarettes or hire a plain stripper. You want things in life that have a little something to them. Jubelale just doesn’t have that something. My fix? Less Cosby, more flavor.

Half a thumb up, 2 stars

Super Belgian Happy Fun Live Drinkathon

So, get to talking about what the best beer is long enough, and someone is bound to bring up Chimay. One of only a handful of breweries run by Trappist monks, Chimay is often called out for making one of the best. I know what you're saying - good beer, made by monks, in Belgium? Remember though, this is the country that supplied us with their eponymous waffles and reveres french fries (frites), chocolate and cyclocross. By those standards, everything that country des should be awesome. Which brings us to today's review...

My own personal introduction to Chimay came back in college, when my now brother-in-law was in the midst of his 10th or 20th Old Chicago's World Beer Tour. During those hazy days, Chimay always came up as the best of the bunch. I had a few back then, but since my palate and liver were more geared toward quantity rather than quality, it was pretty much a wash. This past weekend, however, as he and I hit the liqour store and were mulling spending big on a bottle of Stranahan's, we (literally) stumbled across Chimay gift sets: 12 oz bottles of each of their three beers, and a goblet-style glass that is apparently ideal for true beer tasting. Stranahan's would have to wait (and my bank account thanks me for it. Seriously. Stuff is damn pricey).

Which finally, again, brings us to tonight's marathon testing. I'll walk through each of the beers as I knock them back, starting with Chimay Trippel (its got a white cap). Reading Chimay's description of the Trippel is a bit ridiculous: apparently, according to the monks, it tastes of 'muscat' and 'dry grapes' (really? Muscat? I hope you, the reader, am as suspicious as I am. Don't we hire people to exterminate muscats? Dodgy, with a capital D). On appearance, it fits the bill as a classic Trippel - light colored, a little hazy and apparently bout 8% alcohol (gotta like that last part). Taste wise, its good, maybe not knock your socks off good, but tasty. A little bitter and hoppy, but not too much so. Maybe a bit of flavor from the yeast, a sort of bread-like flavor. And you can really taste that muscat.

Round two: Chimay Blue (also known as the Grande Reserve). Before we dive too deeply into this next review, I think some learnings from tonight's testing are already apparent, most notably: strong beer+shitty work day+long workout-three square meals = trouble. We'll see just how this progresses, but I can tell you that a bottle of Chimay's Blue isn't going to help my clarity of brevity. With that, Blue's tale of the tape: 9% alcohol, fragrance of yeast and 'a light, flowery rosy touch'. Right. I'll agree, its got a kick, and a taste and aroma distinctive to Belgian style beers. Its not easy to pin that flavor down: cola? exotic central northern European spices? the water of Wallonia? Hard to tell, but two things are clear: its not like any other style you'll try, and it's tasty. Like, not the type of beer you'd knock back after a day of yard work, but maybe definitely a tasty option for putting yourself into a nice little coma after a day on the slopes (assuming that can happen this year).

Last but not least: Chimay Red. Lets be honest: by this point, the sensitivity of my palate is suspect, to say the least. Not too say I couldn't distinguish this between Schuler's or Huber, but my assessment probably leaves room for improvement. With that, I'd have to say that Red tastes an awful lot like Blue. Not spot on exact, necessarily, but mighty close. Again, that distinctive flavor of Belgian beers: a little bitter, a little exotic, tasty but hard to pin down. Good, and while not necessarily an acquired taste, certainly one that you'll either love or hate. If you're looking for a traditional, simple beer, you won't find it here; if you're looking for something more refined, then this (and Blue) are the gold standards.

So, in all, where does Chimay stand? Their reputation as a refined, quality brewer is well-earned and is reflected in each of their beers. That Belgium-specific flavor is hard to beat (Seriously-anyone, what is that? And whats a muscat? And what do muscats eat?) and not something you run across every day, even in domestic craft beers (or microbrews, or whatever today's term is for brewers that aren't Anheuser/Busch/Coors/Molson/Miller/Pabst). But again, what price do you put on that flavor? A 750ml bottle of Red is about that of a sixer of anything from New Belgium: I'd argue that the production quality between the two can't be all that different, which means that you're paying a lot more for that flavor. But damn, that flavor...good stuff. If you're looking for something for a special occasion, buck up and spend big. Totally worth it.

Chi-town

So its been a few days (or weeks) since the last post, mainly because I've been on a little break to Chicago. As for the drinking scene there, one word: rock-tacular. I'm a big proponent of Denver's drinking scene (as are others, apparently), but Chicago seems to do it right, consistently. More to come...