November, and All its Pouring

Rockmill Tripel Organic Golden Ale
Lancaster, Ohio
Sampled: Nov. 7, 2010
Rockmill leaves me so many points to begin. Amid its creamy ice cream I taste tones of lemon zest, coriander, pineapple, mango, and mid-palette, some banana and clove step in. Coriander seed has become turned into the Tripel ingredient American brewers inexplicably overdo, a la hops. A little goes far, and Rockmill goes with a lot. A few months in the dark will mellow out the coriander, but it overwhelmed other flavors at this stage. In different samplings, the coriander gets usurped by a feisty patch of burnt orange. The finish sweeps away some residual bitterness in a creamy wave. Rich, deep, and Belgian-style, Rockmill Tripel almost approached a quadruple-style in terms of complexity.

Boulevard Harvest Dance Wheatwine-Style Ale
Kansas City, Mo.
Sampled: Nov. 7, 2010
The folks at Boulevard obviously went with wheatwine because no other classification comes closes – even wheatwine is a stretch at times. Its bouquet runs clean with strains of wheat and black pepper. Then the citrus bowls them over, with fists of nectarine and peach, followed by a touch of pineapple. The use of Citro and Hallertau hops atop the wheat malt undoubtedly helped. Those fruits hit the front palette with copious levels of sweetness. Harvest Dance is pretty mellow for strong ale, finishing rich with fruit and esters dominating. Here the oak finally asserts itself. Bottle aging worked well to tackle the oak before it ran wild. The hops provide ample cushion for the wheat. Furthermore, Harvest Dance pleases while defying description, creating its own niche and making a firm case for tossing out beer styles that only serve to box in creative brewers.

30th Anniversary 4.0: Three Ales, One Bottle
Sierra Nevada Grand Cru
Chico, Calif.
Sampled: Nov. 13, 2010
My prohibition on touching any barleywine before it sits six months means jumping out of order to sample Sierra Nevada’s last anniversary brew, its Grand Cru. The ale blends Celebration Ale, SN Pale Ale and oak-aged Bigfoot barleywine (OK, it’s isn’t a strict prohibition). With a creamy lace, it cannot hide its central character – lots of hops layered with oak. It presents all three beers in succession – the oaked, malty might of Bigfoot cascades into Celebration’s warming holiday spices, then the hoppy Pale Ale conclusion. With each pass, the blend offers intriguing notes. In most cases, the oak wins the closing arguments, leaving spearmint traces throughout. Dry hopping exerts a greater influence than the pale ale component. I can’t wait to try another in six months, when the oak and the dry-hopping begin to mellow. The final Anniversary ale is definitely worthy trying, but miles from transcendence.

Great Lakes Brewing Nosferatu
Cleveland, Ohio
Sampled: Nov. 23, 2010
An image of F.W. Murnau’s vampire adorns the bottle and the rest of Nosferatu is purely Cleveland. With caramel and rich toffee that threatens the turn out notes of cocoa powder above a little red fruit, Nosferatu hinges on the convergence of its disparate flavors. Fortunately, it hurdles that obstacle. This highly complex red ale rivals some Scotch ales in character, but wins for its easygoing demeanor. The red fruits frequently break out into a peppery finish. There’s enough flavor here to ensure none of them dominate. The body glides over the palette aside from a malty bump near the finish. The finish is surprisingly sweet, with a little grapefruit and lemongrass squeezed out. Nosferatu stands up well against the few domestic old ales – it’s fruitier than Erie’s Railbender and does not let its alcohol content define it as rigidly as North Coast’s Old Stock Ale.

Nogne Winter Ale
Grimstad, Norway
Sampled: Nov. 28, 2010
At Nogne’s latitude, I expected intimate knowledge of ale to satisfy palettes and stomachs in winter. Its winter ale has an opaque inky body crowned by a thin effervescent lace. The nose runs thick with hazelnut and citrus peel. Dark winter ales touting salvos of spice have bored me for ages. Nogne delivers. (Digression: Coined by no less than Henryk Ibsen, Nogne means “naked island” in Norwegian and refers to the rocky islands off its coast). Vaguely stout-like, the ale has a viscous, sometimes sweet darkness that delves into layered roasted textures. Nogne quickly bypasses all winter ale conventions as the rare dark, strong winter ale that never sacrifices drinkability. The brewer’s Grimstad water adds a dimension that only local water can. Through its 21 ounces, Nogne never gives up its creamy lace nor does its alcohol content turn it into liquid bread. The roasted bitterness does spike at times, but that’s a minor quibble. With its exotic spice bouquet and local ingredients, this Norwegian brewer cast a new spell on winter beer.

Goose Island Sofie
Chicago, Illinois
Sampled: Nov. 28, 2010
If you poured Sofie into a pint glass, it could be mistaken for mass-produced American lager – until the sharp bouquet kicks in. The lively brettanomyces-rich nose explodes with esters, spice and B vitamins courtesy of the yeast. Hypnotic streaming bubbles race into the velvety cream head. Sofie drinks like a saison with heavy brett activity. A portion of the ale received barrel aging but the oak imparts little character. However, the brett turns Sofie into a wine-like beer. The orange peel and barrel time allow unexpected characteristics to rise. The brett turns gentler fruits such as a mild pineapple and pear into a distinct bone-dry orange inflected with passion fruit. A fine sour note rises from the dry finish, revealing the brett’s skill at lurking into the background and revealing itself when appropriate. Not all wild yeasts comply with that. Sofie departs from that orthodoxy in a way Mathilda does not, making Sofie the more intriguing libation. I wish I bought a second for cellaring.