As regular readers of beer blogs will know, the first Friday of every month is The Session, when we all collectively blog on a specific theme. On the day of July’s Session, however, I will be basking in the glow of being newly wed, relaxed and computerless on a beach in Mexico’s Mayan Riviera. So rather than miss it entirely, I thought I’d simply post a week early.
The theme, as selected by Rob DeNunzio of Pfiff! is “Going Against the Grain Bill,” or as Stan at Appellation Beer so succinctly put it “drinking anti-seasonally.” In other words, deciding on the right beer for the weather and then grabbing from the fridge or cellar the exact opposite.
Since this notion strikes me as rather obviously contradictory, I could think of no better beer to try than Paradox Islay from Scotland’s Brew Dog Brewery, since not only is its moniker quite apt, but as a jet black, 10% alcohol Imperial stout aged for a time in a cask previously used by the Bowmore Distillery, it strikes me as about as anti-seasonal as I can get on this hot and hazy Toronto day.
(I know, it would even be more so in Mexico, but I’m not about to cart my laptop to my wedding just so I can drink a stout on a beach. Sorry.)
To place this beer in context, I should note that I have great affection for Islay and its distilleries, having enjoyed a wonderful few days on the island about a year ago with my newly-minted fiancée, Maggie. I also feel great fondness for its whiskies, being someone not at all adverse to a particularly smoky dram or two. For the faint of heart or the peat-perturbed, however, I have this piece of advice: Don’t try this at home.
In truth, Paradox is not quite “jet black,” as I described it above, but more very, very deep mahogany. The aroma is rich and rather smoky, as one might expect, but not so much so that it overwhelms the liquorice and plum notes also present. On the palate, the start is pure Islay, with peaty, oily, iodiney notes hitting the tip of the tongue and deciding to hang around for a spell, soon to be joined by dark, bitter chocolate, some of that black liquorice and a hint of espresso. The mouthfeel is a little lighter than I expected, but perhaps that will better suit it to my currently hot ‘n’ humid weather. Let me head on out to the terrace for a while to find out.
So here’s how it played out. With Clifton Chenier on the stereo, the sun beating down and the traffic rumbling by below, this wasn’t nearly so anti-seasonal as I might have thought. Not refreshing either, of course, but with its oddly gentle character and smoky-bitter-warming finish, Paradox Islay is evidently suited to more than just cold, rainy northern Scottish nights. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, mind you…) In retrospect, perhaps one and all really should try this at home!
