Leisure Reading

I have been hit by life and work deadlines, delaying a final post of the beers sampled in New Mexico.

In the meantime, please check these guys out. Montana Beer News does a good job covering developments in my favorite beer state and just checking the page makes me long for a Beltian White, Cold Smoke, St. Wilbur Weizen, Scapegoat or a Copper John. Since I visited in September 2010, the state has added a half-dozen new breweries. Not too shabby for a state with less than one million people.

But give the blog a spin at the link above. It's the one beer site I check two or three times weekly.

Brew in the Duke City (Day 1)

Marble Brewery's taproom and brewhouse

Another Western spin could only fresh rounds of local beers. I barely had to research Albuquerque's beer culture - it practically jumped out at me. When it comes to craft brewing, western voyages spoil me. It was hard not to trip over the options for fresh beer. If you don't trip over them, ask a bartender and you'll earn an earful of advice. Everyone has favorites just around the corner.


Albquerque showed pride in its evolved but accessible brewing environment. Il Vicino and Tractor poured their wares across the street from each other in Nob Hill. Soon Moriarty's Rio Grande Brewing will pour its brews at the Albuquerque Sunport. Chama River had a micro-taproom around the corner from the downtown loft and a large brewery on the I-25 frontage road not far from Nexus Brewing (sadly, time did not permit a visit to either - next time, fine brewers).

We visited several breweries in the Duke City, but started with one of New Mexico's best known. The Marble Brewery sat only seven blocks away, solidifying it as our first night target. We walked through the darkness of Second Street and just when it seemed darkest, the green-tea smell of brewing beer wafted around the corner.

A copy of Albuquerque magazine in the loft rated the local beers, and of course, the style I most wanted to try got the highest rating. No matter how beloved Marble Double White was, I would start there - then I too would join the bandwagon. The lemon-driven body collides with the spices yet remains velvety. A finger of licorice sneaks into the mix. Marble Double White rivals Southhamptom's exemplary version and best-in-class Celis White. Nancy and I contemplated getting a growler.

Nancy started with Marble Wildflower Wheat, so we had it side-by-side with the Double White.  Probably not the best comparison, the wheat presented its own merits. The wildflower honey worked well with the wheat malt, and the subtle banana-clove finish never lingered. This agreeable hefe weizen would better suit a triple-digit day.

Having expected greatness on Double White, Marble Red could not have hit either of us more abruptly. Nancy generally avoids hoppy beers, but she could not with Marble Red, which veers away from the "Scotch Ale lite" script many red ales stick to. I advised her to try the red, expecting the latter. When you got it and momentarily recoiled, I realized this ale walked its own path.

Red in color and with the appropriate malts, Marble Red rises from the glass with a burst of perfume, herbs and grassy notes thanks to the lively hop trio of Cascade, Simcoe and Crystal. Caramel malt serves admirably as the undercard. Despite the hop floweriness, Marble Red did not suffer from a lack of balance. Possibly the most unique beverage we sampled in Albuquerque, Marble Red was one of the more sessionable hoppy ales I ever tasted.

I tasted Marble's amber, but upon learning that their Jezebel was a sour amber ale produced with brettanomyces, my mind was made up. At 7.5 percent ABV, it runs a bit stronger than most sours. But it was delightful nonetheless. Jezebel has a light layer of mustiness and horse blanket on the nose, but the body really kicks up some dust and cidery qualities. The sour from the nose reemerges crisply in the finish. This sour was not at all not lip-puckering. A distinct, assertive bouquet of sour cherries emerged in the body, helping to make it one of them ore balanced sours I've tasted recently. Marble deserves some applause for producing a sour cherry flavor so succulent without using fruit.

Marble asks drinkers to limit themselves to three pints a night. I knew that drill from my experience in Montana's taprooms. For the third pint, I went with Hersbrucker Lager,  a German pilsner with a wallop of bright, citrus-filled German hops. There's also a little bit of candied fruit lurking within. After the tastes of wheat, sour and heavily hopped red, it was a virtual palate cleanser and a dynamite everyday beer.

Ghost in the ale

Nancy closed out with Marble Brown. The brown ale's lace condensed into a somewhat ominous shape (see above). Its dark malts could not suppress a surprisingly hoppy assault that struck mid to late palate. Marble Brown poured much darker than Newcastle Brown Ale; it nose and body were a dozen times more florid. German hops gave it nice structure, even if they couldn't chase the ghost from the glass. That empty glass chased us from Marble Brewery, but its enticing taproom lineup would set the tone - as well as a high bar - for Albuquerque's beer culture.

Enter the Jackalope

Full disclosure: In response to a news article about two new breweries opening in the same warehouse, I almost penned a post ripping on the Nashville brewery scene. Halfway through, I realize I had no right to such an opinion until I had sampled the taps of the city's newest entrants.

Jackalope Brewery recent expanded its hours, so the time arrived for a taproom trip. I had not sampled anything from the brewery's guest taps around Nashville pubs. In fact, I had grumbled about the operation, since it kept limited taproom hours and all my 2011 Fridays were spent selling wine. But they remedied that problem in 2012. My buddy Christian and I had not tipped a pint in a while, so a new brewery seemed in order.

Jackalope is owned by Bailey Spaulding and Robyn Virball. To my knowledge, Jackalope is among the few brewhouses in the Southeast run by women. Women in craft brewing are not so rare; Carol Stoudt has run the Stoudt's Brewery in Pennsylvania operations for 25 years, and Hildegard van Ostaden concocts the recipes for Urthel, a new but renown Belgian brewer. In the end, who makes the beer is not as important as what beers they make.

Despite a full parking lot, a sedate taproom awaited, with only a dozen patrons within its colorful walls. The brewmasters were friendly and informative. First up was the Drunken Highlander, their mainline Scottish ale (Hairy Highlander) plus eight days of aging in that once held Corsair Distillery Triple Smoke Scotch-Style Whiskey. When there's smoke in beer, there's fire. The barrel influence cannot be underestimated. Although it tastes appropriate for Scottish ale through the mid-palate, flavors sour through the finish: hop leaf, tobacco, iodine, peat, plus hints of vanilla and spearmint from the oak. The barrel influence drove this ale into some interesting territory. Jackalope also pours the non-barrel-aged version, which will wait for another visit. Too many Scottish ales blur the night quickly.

Christian and I both went for a paddleboard of samplers. With any new brewer, it's a better bet than getting stuck with 16 ounces of unappealing ale. Fortunately, all four brews were of high quality, and suitable for everyday drinking. First up was Bearwalker, a maple brown ale. The maple syrup was somewhat subdued

Then came Puck American Pale Ale, easily the class of the foursome. Unfiltered and hazy, Puck had the look of a hefeweizen. There was no mistaking Puck for the English pub favorite. The hops made it American through and through. The trio of lemon, orange and grapefruit dominate the wonderful nose and the surprising light body. Pubkc has plenty of grainy textures and enough New World hops to satisfy hopheads and haters alike. The beer has great balance and never caves into IPA instinct. Puck was APA at heart.

From there I moved onto the Rompo Red Rye, a fruit red rich led by mellow strawberry and lichee. Light in body and with a sweet, malty finish, this was not as overpowering as it could have been. I'll have to revisit it at some point.

The final ale was a Mild; fewer beer styles have greater need for a new name. But I awaited this ale the most. Milds provide flavor, depth and character with a low-alcohol content. One of my all-time favorites, Moorhouse's Black Cat, classifies as a mild, even though its roasted malt and slight kick of English hops amplifies the flavor beyond anything else at 3.4 percent ABV. Milds are the ultimate session ales, and Jackalope's version aspires to a similar role. A solid trace of hops sneaks in on the way to a 

I hear Pharmacy Burger has a different Jackalope among its taps, so that might be the next one I hunt down. Jackalope sits around the corner from Yazoo on Eighth Avenue South in Nashville, and I would recommend the city help the newest resident of its growing brewery district. Leaving Jackalope I passed Yazoo, crowded as ever. Now that their hours have expanded, the brews from the ladies of Jackalope deserve a visit.

Hey Porter: A Little Ommegang Darkness

"Ommegang Seduction Belgian-Style Porter"
Sampled: Jan. 25, 2012

Ommegang has released its limited edition experiments quite liberally in the past two years,
Ommegang and other brewers have adapted non-Belgian styles with Belgian yeast and spice. The only Belgian close was Sterkens Poorter, a strong Belgian ale that derives its name from the Flemish name the ending of serfdom (or something like that - but it isn't porter). Ommegang has free reign to experiment. As with recent limited brews like Aphrodite, Belgian-style porter goes far beyond adding a Belgian yeast strain to dark ale.

Roasted coffee and caramel textures coat the palate but leave room for the subtle but undeniable cherry twist. The inclusion of cocoa from Belgium's Chocolatier Callebut does not overload Seduction or turn it into a dessert beer. Aside from a few slivers throughout the body, the chocolate never challenges for dominance.As a result, Seduction avoids the artificial chocolate and cocoa powder flavors that sink many beers touting chocolate's inclusion.

The malt bill is long but interconnected (Pils, Caramel, Chocolate, Munich, Munich Caramel, Carapils). For bittering, Ommegang used just Perle hops. Liefmans Cuvee Brut Kriek gives the porter its cherry finish and complexity. Unless I've been staring at the sun too much, Seduction also sports a tiny bit of crimson in its frothy lace.The cherry flavor is mostly sublime. The blend kriek works as good if not better than fresh cherries.
At moments, Seduction's fruit profile reminds me of Boulevard's conservative use of cherries in its Bourbon Barrel Quad from 2009 -- they applied just enough fruit to influence the flavor. In Seduction, the blended fruit beer is slightly more assertive. At 6.8 percent ABV, itis eminently drinkable and approachable. I would take it over Chocolate Indulgence, where the stout thickness and chocolate character get overwhelming.

With the cherry and other flavors, I found myself wishing a finger or two of sour ale would emerge. I'll keep hoping. Judging Seduction on its own merits, it succeeds in bridging the North Sea, giving an English-style porter a plethora of Belgian turns.

Hail to the hieroglyphics: Ta henket

The label copies the oldest known depiction of the brewing process from ancient Egypt.

"Dogfish Head Ta Henket"

Sampled: Jan. 8, 2012

Dogfish Head has landed in Egypt with this ancient ale. Who needs hops when you have Za’atar, Doum Fruit, Emmer Farro’ and chamomile? 

Sam Calagione traveled to Cairo to acquire an Egyptian saccharomyces yeast strain. The bulk of those strange ingredients are Middle Eastern herbs, and the fruit of the doum palm is a popular local delicacy in Egpyt. As usual, there are no half-measures with these guys.

A delightful lemon herb bouquet springs from the glass. No head, but plenty of effervescence bubbles in Ta henket’s golden-bronze body. Beneath the herbs lurks some extremely dry fruit. It won’t last, taking some unexpected turns that hearken to lush, pulpy fruits.

Some Belgian character, including some elusive estery notes, breaks into the picture, probably due to the free-range Egyptian yeast. The round yet exotic fruit opens up splendidly on the palate. Ta Henket produces lots of passion fruit, including mango and papaya. Some burnt orange also sneaks in. The whole affair let me with a craving for doum fruit.

The finish has some grainy textures that close it well. Unlike the rest of the Ancient Ale series, Ta Henket could work as a session ale – were its ingredients not so esoteric.

Catching Up Pt. 1

A work deadline, a nighttime retail job and a crazy schedule can send a blog off the rails. here's to 2012, and to regular posting once again. Expect a glut of brew talk as I clear off my backlog. 

Dogfish Head … Has It Got a Little Story For You

"Pearl Jam 20 Faithfull Ale"

Sampled: Dec. 23, 2011

Consider this Exhibit A in why Dogfish Head’s Tennessee departure annoyed me. Sam Calagione is a relentless experimenter and while I seldom return to them, anything he produces deserves a shot. What the description has to do with Pearl Jam? Dogfish Head took a Belgian golden ale hopped to 20 IBUs (as in 20^th anniversary) and during the brew process, made 10 incremental additions (Ten as in their breakthrough debut). 

It’s a bit surprising that the Little Delaware Brewery That Could beat Seattle’s army of brewing companies to a beer honoring Pearl Jam. Dogfish Head won't please hopheads, but anyone in need of a wrinkle in Belgian golden ales should look no further. 

A bouquet of bone-dry bramble fruit emerges on the nose, as a lively thick head fades into a thin halo of lace. While the nose reminds me of other bramble fruit-infused wheat ales, the similarities end there. With Faithfull Ale, Dogfish Head pours sublime, balanced ale. Just as the hops grow restless and threaten to spoil the party, the angles for supremacy, leading it from mid-palate to finish. The currants throw a number of flavors, embellishing the finale with a medicinal, herbal surge. It gains a slight vegetative edge, but nothing that impedes progress. The sharp yet velvety fruit tones play nice with the hops, leaving the palate coated but not damaged. It reminds me of a more drinkable take on Black & Blue, Dogfish Head’s berry-infused ale. I think I prefer Faithfull.

Belgian-style golden is not the typical base beer for fruit, but a light hop level elevates the fruit. After a slew of reissues, tributes and a career-spanning documentary in 2011, Pearl Jam and its Faithfull fans deserve a beer this enticing.

The Fragrant Hops of Christmas

"Full Sail Wreck the Halls 22"

Sampled: Dec. 24, 2011

Christmas beer season is in full session. Hood River’s local brewer avoids tradition and continues its own. Hop oil and citrus burst from the glass. This won’t be their final bow. The malts definitely present a little caramel but really, the hops run roughshod over them. Centennial hops drape their leafy textures over the entire affair. The citrus piles on, but in concentrated form – the oiliness never relents, even as orange, grapefruit, lemon and persimmon notes rise and fall. Bitter orange (perhaps even a little blood orange) pervades. Through the course of a bomber bottle, the hop bouquet never gives the palate a rest. Dry and bitter, it builds a hophead’s paradise.

At 6.5 percent ABV, Wreck the Halls does not overpower, even as its ingredients sometimes do. Hopheads should hunt it down. But anyone else should be content with a sole sample. It’s rough, bitter and rough around the edges, but possesses a certain Pacific Northwest charm.

Southern Blondes, Twice the Fun

“Wild Heaven Invocation”

Sampled: Dec. 26, 2011

Save Sweetwater and Red Brick, I haven’t sampled many Atlanta-brewed ales. This one caught my eye at aWhole Foods north of I285. 

Invocation rings out nicely with a halo of cream, a hint of esters and a solid coriander kick. A veneer of herbs and floral character break in. Bright orange body looks typical for a Belgian blonde. The orange character is a little rougher and burnt. At times, Invocation is more indicative of a Belgian tripel. But I won’t dawdle about labels. It’s burnt orange collides with some veins of lemon and

Mouth-feel is exquisite. It comes with a slightly sharp hop edge, but nothing that sticks around. The label claims Noble and West Coast hops, giving it a degree of cover to what exactly went into the brew kettle. They add a squiggle of oil unusual for this style. After it passes mid-palate, some leafiness emerges, but the IPA grapefruit and heavy dry floweriness never arise.

That’s the sound of me sighing in relief. Wild Heaven does not exceed its mandate and shower its Belgian-style golden with bushels of hops. It enhances the style, doesn’t merely seek to plow over its predecessors. Invocation exhibits enough hop character to taste unique but not to feel like Belgian-style IPA.

Behold, a (Colorado) Pale Rider

"New Belgium Lips of Faith Belgian-Style Blond Ale"

Sampled: Dec. 26, 2011

I unexpectedly fonud this Lips of Faith favorite at the Georgia Liquor Barn in Cumming. It did not return to Nashville for 2011. Given the lack of repeats in the Lips of Faith line, this bomber could have come from that batch. But I dove in. The nose comes off slightly earthy, with a bit of must and some Belgian yeast-produced B vitamins. Perhaps it has spent a year on the shelf. Thin ice-cream head never wavers. The presentation is solid.

This Blond leans more toward lemon in the body, which could be mistaken for American lager (if you ignore the creamy head). Between the Saaz hops and the Styrian Goldings hops, the latter asserts itself more on the finish, while the former helps to promote some pilsner textures within the body. Both hop strains work well with the yeast, creating a highly drinkable strong blond (8.5 percent ABV). Finish is rich with orange bitters.

Definitely not a session blond, New Belgium’s take is fine for a single sampling and strong enough to step in for Duvel or any of the devilishly named pale Belgian ales.


Now for something truly old ...

Cutting the Cord

"Caldera Vas Deferens"

Sampled: Sept. 30, 2011

Beer naming has reached a new low. Well, this came as a surprise –albeit not as much as a vasectomy would. I saw beer brewed with orange bitters and blood orange zest and expected a golden-orange ale. This beer has a burgundy body with a trace amount of citrus wedged into a creamy head. Vas Deferens blooms with lots of malt, emanating molasses and (you guessed it) bitter orange. Vas Deferens is a true oddity, a beer lying somewhere between a dubbel and a tripel. The malts and darkness signal a dubbel, but all the orange tones lead down a tripel road. It isn’t as heavy as a dubbel, but not as light as a dubbel.

The label should scare people away – brewed in “honor” of the brewmaster’s vasectomy, it depicts the devil biting through a pair of vas deferens. Yeah, biting through -- it's one subtle bottle, which is why I forgot about the camera until this one disappeared into the recycling bin.

Vas Deferens shines with a beautiful orange finish, with the blood orange zest ably backed by the orange bitters. The bitter is actually nowhere to be found, just the bitter. The orange blooms midway across the palate and never lets go. It’s truly an impressive burst of flavor.  The orange finish is quite unlike any other  beer, and that unique character helps this beer overcome its off-putting logo.

For anyone who ever found dubbels to heavy on chocolate, chicory and dark malt tones, this is the beer to seek out; the orange blots out the initial malt darkness. At 8.1 percent ABV, Vas Deferens quickly reveals its alcohol levels. The orange masks nothing. The label gives everything away. Not something I would commemorate in beer form, but I enjoy the experimentation. Belgian-style but Oregon made, Vas Deferens is more than a noble flop. It succeeds in  bridging a gap between dubbel and tripel that I don’t know needed a span.

Vas Deferens touts itself as a label not meant for reproduction or mass production.  I concur. Caldera can chuck the name, but they traced a unique route with this Belgian hybrid style

Breakroom Libations: New Feuillen, Old Dark Carolus Cuvee

St. Feuillen Speciale

Sampled: Dec. 16, 2011

St. Feuillen holds a steady spot in the wild pack of Belgian Abbey Ales. It has grown more experimental in recent years,  and one of its latest takes a fresh spin on Abbey Dubbels and holiday ales. St. Feuillen ages Speciale for a minimum of 6 weeks in cold tanks and 2 more weeks in the warm room. By cellaring it, St. Feuillen knocks off many of the rough edges a younger strong ale might flash.

The effervescent head sizzles down quickly, and the brown body opens up with flashes of chocolate and sassafras inflected with spearmint. Cinnamon also crops up. The finish is dry and herbal, almost medicinal at times, a dimension I never expected.

At first, $15 seemed a little steep, but it’s Christmastime. The spice complexity propels the beer past normal Abbey-style Dubbels and makes it more interesting than most Christmas ales. The spice bouquet more than validates the price of admission.

Gouden Carolus 2006 Grand Cru of the Emperor

Sampled: Dec. 19, 2011

The cork twisted off with no fanfare, giving this august beer an almost silent opening. The crew at the wine store would be the ones making the noise. Cuvee van de Keizer Blau had arrived. Het Anker’s once-a-year dark ale emerges into the light. As with many Belgian quadruple ales, it has evolved significantly since disappearing to age into the darkness.

The sweetness is astonishing, but still drinkable. Often called the port wine of beers, Belgian quads take on those characteristics after a few years. The Grand Cru not only resembles port, but its sweetness veers into the same cupboard as Calvados, the apply brandy aged for years in French limousine oak. Raisins rule the roost, accompanied by sprinkles of dates and figs. Creamy textures rise mid-palate and sail into the finish.

There’s a fine whiff of banana bread lurking in the brown depths, and its reasserts itself on the creamy finish. Five years after brewing, a bit of orange peel still resides within.

Forget the 10 percent ABV on the bottle; that bird flew a long time ago. The brilliance of aging strong Belgian ales makes it irrelevant. This is beautiful ale, dark and faceted like a pricey gem.

I have sampled past vintages, including 2000, 2004, 2005 and 2007, but this is the first I had aged under optimal conditions. It might be an odd tradition, but buying a Cuvee van de Keizer just to hide it for a half-decade delivers on its promise every time.

December Extremes

Troeg’s Mad Elf Ale

Sampled: Dec. 18, 2011

After a season rich with my Christmas favorites, I decided to try someone else’s. Troeg’s Mad Elf has emerged as a cult classic among many beer aficionados. Mad Elf’s alcohol content is prohibitive to regular drinking (11 percent ABV). Brewed with honey and cherries, it lies on a different spectrum from most Christmas ales. Its ruby body hints at the cherry character. The cherries assert themselves quickly, and the honey smooths out any tart characters. Other red fruits threaten to break out, but the cherries restrain them. 

The fruit is round and lush, pushing gently into the honey roundness. There’s some sharpness and a little peppery character that slip through. The pepper never gains enough steam to derail the ale. The dry finish comes with some bitterness, but none I can link to hop content. As it warms in the glass, the pepper almost equals the honey and cherries.

Those masking agents are assertive and keep the alcohol content under wraps. Almost no head or lace graces its crown. Aromatic to a delightful degree, Mad Elf easily trumps the other Elf beers creeping around the holidays. The twin bill of honey and cherries definitely works wonders. Don't plan on more than one in a sitting (especially if you want to remember the sitting) but include Mad Elf in any holiday drinking plans.

Flowers in December: Goose Island Fleur

Sampled: Dec. 11, 2011

Goose Island’s entrancing series of Belgian-style ales goes for the flowers. No head and little lace to mention, Fleur is undeniably alluring. The nose perks up with some brettanomyces and a little floweriness character. 

The cloudy orange body is stouter than I anticipated, with a heavier malt payload. Perhaps it will fade over time, but my patience for light-colored, bottle-conditioned ales is limited. The label allows for five years, and it last a solid six months. I am starting to have issues with hibiscus in beer, as it doesn’t always zip much less explore any new dimensions when added to the brew kettle. 

Unfortunately, Fleur never takes off. The hibiscus does not add much to the body, and the nose is the most compelling feature. The wild yeast definitely pushes a medicinal and herbal accent onto the finish, but it’s hard to rationalize the $8 price tag based on the unassertive character wedged between nose and finish. It gets mildly vegetative in the middle of the body.

The yeasty smudge on the bottle’s bottom shows the yeast has been at work, which the fine medicinal character indicates. Maybe I should wait a little longer next time. However, I cannot put it on the same scale as Reinhart’s Wild Flemish Ale or Ommegeddon.

The River of Dreams, Pt. 2

California Demon: Russian River Damnation

Sampled: Dec. 10, 2011

Russian River did not barrel age Damnation, but it did bring Belgium’s tradition of devilishly named golden ales to northern California. Kept under cork in a pint bottle, Damnation roars out with a stiff nose of citrus, Belgian-style yeast and a little clove (not anywhere near wheat Delerium Tremens displays, though).

Damnation’s finish couldn’t be crisper, with a bill of malted grain and cracked spices coating the palate. As much as I get bored with coriander, that won’t happen here. The malt and the spice mingle too well for any complaints. An earthy character not unlike pine or spruce needles is buried deep in that citrus body, a sign of the hops.

Bottle refermentation seems to submerge hops further, but there’s nothing going on that they are not missed. The devilish connotation owes something to the highly drinkable nature of ales like Duvel and Sloeber, among others. Damnation joins the tradition, pouring down with great ease.

As much as it reminds me of those, it could also pass for a cousin of Westmalle Tripel, the dean of Belgian strong pale ales. Damnation’s alcohol content is a little steep for everyday consumption (7.75 percent ABV). But for those of us without easy access, Russian River ales are akin to that rare bottle of wine in the cellar. The special occasion arrives whenever you pop the cork.

Batch 70

Last Splash in Russian River: Temptation Barrel Aged Ale

Sampled: Dec. 11, 2011

Finally, I have arrived at the cork of Temptation. Thus ends my tour of Russian River’s sour and Belgian-style ales for 2011. A steady diet of bubbles enlivens the glass. The lace barely barely clings to the pale golden body.

The nose erupts with banana, passion fruit and a mighty cidery mustiness. Aged in chardonnay barrels for nine to 12 months, Temptation quickly proved itself as otherworldly as Consecration and Supplication, the two other delectable sour ales. Try as I might to find fault with Russian River’s heavily lionized sour ales, I cannot – they are among the best North American ales and richly reinterpret Flemish sours.

Temptation springs down a different path from many sours. Temptation would steamroll most ciders in tartness. As with all the other Russian River ales, its sour character does not pummel the palate. By using brettanomyces instead of lactobacillus, the mustiness is replaced by tartness usually reserved for beers like Orval and Goose Island’s Matilda and Sophie. God, Temptation is purely sublime; the brett pushes it to unusual heights. 

While golden like Damnation, they could not be less alike. I see the use of chardonnay barrels as a necessary turn to greatness; pinot noir and Cabernet sauvignon barrels get all the attention, but blonde ale is a natural fit for chardonnay. Temptation is a little mellower than the dark sours, but it should be. An easy fit for fans of brett-rich beers cannot miss Temptation.

Not as Sexual as it Sounds: New Belgium Prickly Passion Saison

Sampled: Dec. 9, 2011

 New Belgium surprised the Grand Cru staff with Prickly Passion Saison, a late-season farmhouse ale spiked with prickly pear and passion fruit juices.

The name hearkens to a male house cat’s (ahem) anatomical features for mating. But it is soon forgotten as the flavor takes over. New Belgium pours an effective New World saison with some Old World yeast to help it along.

Lots of perfume erupts from Prickly Passion. The zesty, estery French saison yeast amplifies the pear juice and passion fruit on the nose. Guarded by a creamy lace, its effervescent livens up the burnt orange body. The orange notes have enough rough edges to avoid saison complacency. With every pass, it remains mysterious. 

On the finish, a crisp saison spice twists into the creaminess Herbs and black pepper headline, with peaches, lemongrass and the prickly pears receiving extended cameos.

I could have used a little bottle conditioning to really rough up Prickly Passion, but that would not fit most Lips of Faith beers. Not a traditional saison, Prickly Passion breaks a fair amount of new ground. Saison fans should find it a welcoming brew, as should anyone beholden to the livewire yeasts of France and Belgium.