Beers Eye Drunk

A week ago I tried Unibroue's Blanche De Chambly, which translated into English means White Devil with a Chainsaw. That's what Babblefish told me, anyway. I didn't need a warning like that to make me suspicious, though. Sure, this beer is pretty good, but it's probably not to be trusted.
First off, let's examine the pour. Okay, I need you to go to the store and get one and then pour it into a glass and report back to me anything that strikes you as suspicious. We have to stick together on this. For my part of the research, I noticed this beer has a strong head, which fizzes down to a nice consistent, lacy ring… but why? Why go through all that trouble? What was he thinking with that large head of his and should we just assume now that he's subdued he won't come back again one day... and for no less than our very souls!?!?!

More peculiarities are concealed in the cloudy, almost white color of this beer. Something's in there for sure. Could be suspended Yeast. Could be chunks of Satan himself. You never know these things at first glance. One thing is for sure, Chambly is up to something.

And as if that weren't enough, it smells like soggy wheat, but it's actually quite sweet and refreshing, with a hint of citrus. And it's not heavy or sluggish at all. It's downright lively... a little too lively if you ask me.

Now to the vaguely interesting subplot which is the basis for my trepidation: They've opened up a new Beverages & More right down the street from where I typically get my beer. And it was filled to brim with crazy soccer moms who were strutting around with their red wine taking the invitation to participate in a Hanson's soda taste-test a little too seriously. I was in the beer section with some lugs who wandered back and forth looking at Trapist beers before finally settling on a 12 pack of Corona. The experience was a little disturbing, but I figured there was a good chance that Bev-Mo had something different even though it was a little bit corporate for my beer shopping taste. Of course, what did I see?

If you guessed Godzilla in a braw and panties, you're half-right, but if you guessed the devil in a canoe, you're completely correct. There he was paddling at me on a red-river of what was probably blood, in the middle of a row of Unibroue beers. The awful beer bottle graphic is further proof Unibroue has sold their souls to Bev-Mo. They had a whole section. Just like I can't put my finger on why Bev-Mo is wrong and should be stopped, I can't quite articulate the pure horror of seeing a horned devil gentling paddling towards me in a quaint little two-seater. Only Canada would pair a bad-ass hellion with one of the lamest excuses for transportation known to man. What's next Unibroue? Going to try to sell me beer using a picture of Mesostopheles on Segue?

You people are just plain sick!And sure, I may just be transferring my fears and suspicions of Bev-Mo over to poor Unibroue, who is merely an innocent bystander. However, the insurmountable evidence leads me to give Unibroue's Blanche de Chambly, a somewhat tainted endorsement. Proceed to flavor, quality, and intrigue, but proceed ever cautiously, less ye soul be spirited away by the netherworld at speeds of up to two miles an hour unless there's a log or something in the way then you'll probably have to paddle around it.... to your doom!

Often beer-tasting is a turbulent exercise is sifting through wild new upstart microbrews and dealing with rabid beer aficionados excited over swill that's more obscure than it is flavorful. Often, the experience can leave us weary with the new, longing for an old-time flavor that brings back memories of the good old days... such as those 365 wild days of 1649.

If you're like me, and you should be, you probably remember 1649 very fondly. The odd hints of tropical fruit in this beer call up fresh memories of when Oliver Cromwell declared England a 'Commonwealth', and raised England's prestige in Europe on the basis of an alliance with France against Spain, greater religious toleration and one wild-ass pool party with more chicks in bathing suits than I could count. It was a fortnight to remember! This sweet honey-flavored beer call to mind some of the sweeter moments of that magical year such as, when Robert Blake, who eventually caught a rare form of the crabs, was promoted to Admiral of the British navy and my roommate Paul was promoted to King of Beer Pong.

If there's anything negative to say about this beer, however, it's that the head dissipates far too quickly, and the overall taste can be a bit sluggish and lazy, much like my friends and I on the mornings after several of 1649's more famous blasts. Like the time when the Itilian city of Castro was completely destroyed by the forces of Pope Innocent X or when me and my buddies got completely obliterated after drinking three 30-packs of this awesome beer. Now I may be getting the 1849 mixed up in my mind with 1997, for obvious reasons, and the more apropos beer for that time is more likely to be Genny Cream Ale than Bischofshof. For some reason there are a lot of blank spots in both those years for me. But I can say with confidence that Bischofshof is a beer, and whether you're toasting someone's beheading or you happen to be heading to someone's place to get toasted, you'll probably find Bishofshof a semi-memorable part of an experience you probably won't remember.