I know that I promised to fill this month’s blog with fearless predictions for 2008, but today is the first Friday of January, and that means it’s Session time! The theme today is dobbelbocks, as selected by Wilson at Brewvana.
Jay didn’t do me any favours.
As I griped last month on Stan’s blog, doppelbocks and, indeed, bocks of any variety are in painfully short supply in my neck of the woods. I believe that Trafalgar Ales and Meads still produces a bock from time to time, as does Amsterdam Brewing, but I’ve not seen either for a good long time now. And Creemore Springs Brewing still makes their winter seasonal urBock, but I have found that to be less characterful than it was in the pre-Molson buy-out days, and besides, it’s a bock rather than a doppel.
So what’s a poor Ontario beer scribe to do? Not wander to the LCBO and pick up some Salvator – that would be too easy. No, instead I’ll dip into my reserves, expand Jay’s definition a bit, and bring to the fore a couple of vintages of Niagara Falls Eisbock.
In truth, I have no right to expect that either of these beers will be any good. Although it was once a minor legend of a beer in these parts, the Eisbock was never much good beyond five or six years of age, and the youngest of this duo is already nine! But my partner in beerbistro, Brian Morin, and I popped the cap on a similar vintage a few months ago and found that it was, if not exactly earth-shaking, at least fairly enjoyable. Proving that however much you think you know about aging beer, the cellar can still on occasion surprise.
I start with the tenth anniversary edition of 1998. It pours clear as a bell, leaving a millimeters or so of sediment laying on the bottle’s floor, and foams up nicely. The aroma, oddly enough, has developed a blueberry character, along with some caramel and tannin notes and, it must be added, a sharp underlying whiff of, ahem, putridity. The body starts slightly sweet, with almost rum-like flavours of vanilla and tropical fruit, but pretty much falls apart in the middle, leaving a sad mess of alcohol, slightly sour malt and lactic notes. Not what you might call a rousing success.
Let us turn to 1995’s Eisbock, then, and see if more of the same awaits. I rinse my mouth, steel my nerves and pop the cap. Same crystal clear pour, same finger of off-white foam, and…nothing but nasty! This beer is a study in oxidization, with a strong wet cardboard nose and flat, sour taste. I didn’t expect a filtered beer, even one of 8% alcohol, would survive more than a dozen years unscathed, and it didn’t.
So this wasn’t a terribly enjoyable Session for this beer blogger, but on the plus side, at least the next beer I try is bound to taste just that much better. And I now have a bit more space in my cellar.
