This month’s edition of The Session is hosted by Ted Duchesne of the Barley Vine, and his oh-so-seasonally appropriate pick for December’s theme is “Let it snow, let it snow, Winter Seasonal Beers.”
How handy, then, that the new p.r. guy at the Ontario Craft Brewers Association saw fit to send me a pack of his members’ seasonal specialties yesterday, albeit after first forwarding it to the wrong address. Still, they arrived, the wind howled, space was made in the beer and wine fridges – depending on the temperature each beer deserved – and a sampling was organized. Here are the results:
First up is Old Credit Brewing’s Holiday Honey, a 5% alcohol brew I presume to be fermented with honey, but about which scant other information is given. (The beer is unlabeled, with only a neck tag boasting the name and strength, and the brewery doesn’t appear to have a website.) It pours a bright amber colour, with a soft, buckwheat honey-ish aroma that’s sweet and a little spicy, but also holds a hint of earthy tartness. The body is mildly sweet throughout, with a fairly straight-forward flavour that hints at honey but delivers more raisin, walnut and light leafy hop notes, ending in a dusty dry finish. Not a bad beer, but hardly the sort of rich, fulfilling beer I normally equate with winter seasonals.
Next in line is a 5.5% alcohol Blackcurrant Rye Beer from Heritage Brewing, a beer I have encountered in years past, although only on draught and, frankly, to my own dismay. This year’s edition, however, is a definite improvement from the outset, with a deep, almost Burgundian purple colour and an aroma of subdued, perfumey fruit with faint underpinnings of spice. The body starts with just a light note of floral, fruity sweetness before becoming much drier, faintly tart and fully flavoured with currants. The second bone dry finish in a row, however, makes me wonder where I might find seasonal indulgence in my home province’s winter brews.
Perhaps in the Abbey Belgian Spiced Ale of Trafalgar Ales and Meads, a 6.2% alcohol number that is next up. Certainly the deep purple-ish colour and candied fruit aroma hold out promise, but sadly, the body only takes a step or two towards following through. The start of this ale is so mild-mannered that it could just as easily be an amber lager, although things do pick up a bit with raisin, date and spice notes in the body, alongside some whiffs of warming alcohol, the first such notes I have encountered in these so-called winter beers. In the back end and finish, I find suggestions of molasses, light cocoa and black plum, but none of the battling-the-cold warmth and richness I would receive from a true Belgian abbey ale.
With its cork-finished, embossed 750 ml bottle, the 6.2% alcohol Winter Ale from Ontario’s – not Cleveland’s! – Great Lakes Brewing Company certainly has the others beat so far as packaging, and judging by the aroma, they’ve everyone within a twenty hour drive beat so far as spicing goes, too. The back label copy speaks of “generous amounts of honey, cinnamon, ginger and orange peel,” and they ain’t kidding! This deep amber ale veritably reeks of cinnamon, with light peppery notes lurking in the background. Not surprisingly, the body follows suit, with mouth-filling flavours of cinnamon – I swear I can taste the cinnamon-and-sugar toast of my youth – and ginger backed by roasty, molasses notes and hints of black licorice. On the finish, I’m left with the remnants of a heavy-handed spice cake. With a greater body, this could be a beer that works, but as it stands it is so palate overwhelming that I have a hard time finishing a glass, much less a bottle.
What I can and do happily finish by the pint this time of year is Black Oak Brewing’s 5.5% alcohol Nutcracker Porter, which was inexplicably left out of the OCB delivery. (Fortunately, I have a stash of my own, having just two days ago presented it at a private tasting for a law firm.) A black ale, the aroma does offer notes of the cinnamon with which it is flavoured, but also a balanced mix of roasted malt, date and fig, and almost pure cocoa. In the body, it delivers first roasty malt, then some molasses and fig notes, and finally a mix of spice and coffee, with cinnamon and anise the most obvious of the former flavours. Even for those who normally disdain porters and stouts, this is a highly approachable ale.
But is it, or are any of the above beers, a legitimate winter warmer? I think not. For me, at least, a winter beer needs to be the type of ale or lager that calls me to the fireside, not necessarily because of its alcohol content, but because of its comforting appeal. And in that respect, each of the OCB seasonals has a way to go.
