That’s how it gose / Trou du Diable’s Willow Gose

More beer chronicles…One of the defining characteristics of the “craft” scene is the willingness to experiment. There is a joyful feeling in the discovery of something new or unusual that is sure to become your new favourite. For some though all this brouhaha can be quite unsettling. 

I am quick to embrace new ideas in food or spirits, I like learning about the thought process behind things, the mechanics of creativity. That said, at times when a certain fashion dominates the scene (superhops, Brett, lactic fermentation) it can feel like you’ve lost your bearings, things start to feel unfamiliar and confusing. I often find myself slackjawed with decision fatigue in front of beer shelves these days.

Thankfully beer is a fairly affordable vice and so it’s perhaps best to jump in and be daring. Grab that label that catches your eye or that ridiculous named concoction. You might be surprised. 

I am still inexperienced when it comes to Gose as a beer style, I have tried a few but don’t have any familiar reference points. Almost like a Berliner Weisse in composition, the salinity (whether naturally occurring or not) is a defining characteristic of this beer.

Nose: malty, grassy, there is something slightly floral, a wee bit of apricots. 

Palate: pleasing fruits, bitterness and grains dance together. Like an orange creamsicle but with rich malt and lemon zing. Sharp and crystalline, the salinity is well balanced. There is a an edge, a little like passion fruit and lemon. 

The finish is a bit short, the lactic tang and pleasant bitterness keeps the grains from being too heavy and makes it thirst quenching. 

B+

Franck

Lagavulin 12 Cask Strength 2013

Laguvulin 12 Cask Strength 2013

55.1% ABV.

90/100

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Much like Ardbeg and Laphroaig, Lagavulin is one of those distilleries that has the ability to turn grown men into fanboys. Unlike the latter examples, it does so by releasing very few whiskys and with little fanfare.

Don’t get me wrong I don’t think Diageo has any trouble with their marketing budget, yet I have to admit that the austere range of Lagavulin resonates with my personal aesthetic. Yes there are the Jazz fest releases & Feis Ile editions, as well as the occasional 20+yr old OB that are beyond most people’s reaches.

Otherwise the distillery output is channeled into three main expressions. The 16’s reputation renders it almost ubiquitous, it’s the one you are likely to find behind the bar in most reputable restaurant and bars, which doesn’t distract from the fact that it is a solid product.

On the other end you have this 12 years cask strength offering, it has been released yearly since 2000, produced in fairly large numbers. It is a vatting of all ex-bourbon barrels and judging from the pale color probably a fair amount of refill barrels (thankfully free of the DiageoGold™…thanks for that one Micheal k.)

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When one runs out of labels, one comes up with a convoluted archiving system involving super-heroes. Lagavulin=Electro, easy, right?

I first tasted this as the second to last whisky in a line-up of heavy hitters (Bunnahabhain Toiteach, Ardbeg Corry, Bowmore Tempest, Amrut peated CS) so singular was it’s delivery, I instantly knew I needed some of this in my life. Thank you again to fellow Connosr member Robert99 for sharing this with me.

Nose: Smoked fudge (this should totally be a thing), burnt chaff, butter, hot tarmac, a slight touch of vanilla. A feeling of Vicks vaporub and alpine liqueurs/bitters, earthy and mineral.

Palate: Sooty, a coal fire, bitter herbs and plants (cardoons?) there is also  little sweetness, It reminds me of mezcal in some ways, fresh almonds and grapefruit pith, salty and a slight creaminess.

Finish is long, all on puer eh tea (that earthy, vegetal side), blond tobacco smoke, fading sweetness and lingering oiliness. It’s so balanced and most quaffable undiluted.

A good reference when one wants to talk about distillery character or quality of distillate, there are similarities with other Islay whisky but there is this elemental qualities in this whisky that are hard to find elsewhere and there doesn’t seem to be so much wood doing the heavy lifting.

Ok yes the price, the Diagopremium™ is in effect, there has been a steady increase of the price of this over the years attaining some new heights with the 2016 edition. In our neck of the woods the 2013 retailed  for 116$ and the 2016 is now 160$…pretty steep price of entry.

 

Franck

 

 

 

 

You’re One In a Melon/ Brasserie Dunham’s Berliner Melon Weisse 

This summer took a long time to settle in, it made up for the delay by providing us with crushing humidity, hot nights and unpredictable storms that annoy more than provide respite. 

This heat has fueled my desire for something that I can crush and still have the willpower to do the dishes before going to bed…adult life *sigh*.
I’ve started dipping my toes back into the beer scene since I’ve had a cracking few this winter (Harricana 138 call me, I can’t stop thinking about you). 

In order to add some variety I’ll throw in a few beer reviews. I am by no means an expert, my reviews are unlikely to make you swoon with anticipation and delight.

Enter Berliner Melon Weisse. I was trolling some stores for the limited release of Dunham’s Berliner passion Weisse to no avail (after reading an empassionned review by Noah @ Beerism) but I did come across this funky yellow labeled stable mate and the price was right for this cheapskate that is 8$.

The beer pours out with a light body, a bit cloudy but a  pretty chunky foam.

Nose: Immediately lemon, unripe melon, some hay and a mild amount of funk. The nose isn’t all that expressive.

Palate: Oh that baby is sour, homemade OJ and lemonade, a bit of hoppy sharpness, I’m not getting much melon. It’s very dry and the finish drops off a cliff at the end.

Infinitely refreshing, would probably make a good beer cocktail (ah sacrilege!) I dig some of these low alcohol beers. I want beer but I don’t want to feel like I ate an entire loaf of bread.

B- 

Franck

Octomore 7.1 “Fernet Branca, benzene & charred Lemons”

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Octomore 7.1

59.5% abv

81/100

What can one say about Octomore that hasn’t been said before? Is this whisky all about muscular posturing (my peat’s bigger than yours)? Is it for peat nerds who must own every single edition (like Pokemon), overrated, one-dimensional, as close to a religious experience as possible, utter shite, delicious, overpriced swill?

As much as I love this whisky it’s retail price, especially in Quebec is hard to stomach, the standard .1 iterations sell for 230$ and the special editions (if we ever get any) go for upwards of 300$. It’s still only a 5 yr old whisky, chalk it up in part to the peat premium we see nowadays (anything with peat commands a higher price, add another premium if it’s Islay), we often get the argument of limited production but I mean really!

By now the standard bourbon barrel aged Octomore is in high demand, enough to have become something they can produce in sufficient numbers. It’s released at 5 years, it’s almost been that long since the Remy Cointreau buyout, they would have had enough time to adjust production volume for this. How much extra does it cost to overpeat the barley? I know it’s a long 3+day process but still, enough to warrant a 4 fold increase over the Classic Laddie edition, it hurts mommy!

Despite all this, it’s a very singular whisky, one I believe any whisky drinker must try at least once. The use of peat from the mainland (Bruichladdich doesn’t get it’s peated barley from Port Ellen malting unlike many of it’s Islay siblings) also helps inform some of the character of this whisky, lending to it perhaps less of that maritime, band-aidy funk…yes that’s an adjective. There’s also the tall Bruichladdich stills that probably come into effect.

I first tasted this whisky back to back with Octomore 6.1 so I will compare to it at times.

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Nose: Smoked buttermilk, acetone, tons of fermentation/baby-sick notes, more than the 6.1, dirty smoke with a slight rubbery edge. Fennel, oregano, peameal bacon, freshly stained pinewood, vanilla, charred lemons and burned corn husks.

Palate: Cola and Fernet Branca, sappy branches, really sweet marzipan and milk chocolate. Then it turns ashy and out comes the umami squad, cooked celery, lovage, black cardamom and aniseed, like danish licorice candies.

Finish is salty and sweet, ashy petrol smoke and tarred wet oak, hot cornbread, it lingers and sticks to your palate long after it is done.

If this is your first Octomore then, it gives you a good idea of the general profile of this series. In contrast to 6.1 or 5.1 I found it to be a bit too acrid and the butyric/lactic thing is too forward.

As discussed by chairman MAO in one of his reviews, it’s hard to see what each new .1 iteration brings to the table, other than a batch number and a slight tweak of ABV and/or PPM, I would love to see a priced controlled stable vatting or recipe released (yes wishful thinking I know). That being said, I think in the last few years we have a seen an effort to increase the offerings in the series. The 6.3 and 7.3 Islay barley variants are superb whiskys with depth and sharp definition.

On the experimental side of things there was Adam Hannet’s virgin oak obsession which played out in the 7.4  which despite the convoluted vatting, also bumped the age up to 7+years. Lastly there was the Laddie MP 6 session that was all Octomore single casks and the OBA web release which broke the laddie site temporarily, which is a black arts type vatting of different aged Octomore casks.

OBA

Franck