Beers Eye Drunk

With a low price of under $6 for a sixer, White Ale, one of many new flavors of Adams, still did not look appealing. For starters, it was the cheapest of the available styles and I kid you not, the label is actually advertising yet another beer, stating proudly that the Summer Ale is coming soon! What did I just buy, yeasts, grains, and chopped liver? Really, what kind of issues must a beer have to come out and advertise another beer on the label? Tack on the fact that the sampler pack of Sam Adams beers I got a few months ago was barely worth the snide remarks I gave it, and you can see why White Ale had barely anything going for it.

Though I don't know what the Summer Brew's going to be like, this White Ale is actually the first alternative Sam Adams style I've liked since Cherry Wheat. It's smooth, thirst-quenching, cloudy, and intriguing with just a hint of spice. Don't ask me what kind of spice. I couldn't tell you the difference between coriander and that stuff that makes your eyes glow blue in Dune.

I drank three of these in a sitting easily without getting too full, and each one was satisfyingly fresh. And probably the best part about it was how White Ale maintains a flavor very much a kin to the original Boston lager. The unique style with a familiar tone made for an overall positive experience. It was like meeting the look-a-like cousin of the girl who dumped you in high school. Sure, you don't know her all that well, but fooling around with her can help you relive some good memories and help put the bad ones behind you. And while it's probably inconsiderate of me to be with her, knowing I'm thinking about the original the whole time, I feel it is very good for me, therapeutic even. And in some way I'm owed this tasty little fling, because let's face it, that family has hurt me in the past, and while White Ale didn't teach me how to love again, I sure got my six dollars worth and what's left over I'm just kicking curb-side... into the recyclables bin.

Maybe it's the way I've treated White Ale and countless other beers, cheap and easy, that has contributed to her terrible lack of self-esteem. It is with some guilt that I recommend her to my friends, who will no doubt temporarily enjoy her, but never truly offer her love. Maybe someday, when White Ale learns to love herself, then we too will learn to respect her. Perhaps, we will never learn and the shame will forever haunt us. Thank goodness they're always making more beers so we never have to face any of the horrible truths of our existence.

Well, last week I bought two beers that unfortunately don't deserve to be given an article. One's a somewhat flat, dark microbrew called Turbodog, which tastes like salt water and ashtray. And the other was the somewhat disappointing seasonal Sierra Nevada called Big Foot Barely Wine Style Ale, a crudely bitter brew tasting of metal and perhaps Dial soap. I've had about three of each and haven't warmed up to either. Both are way too filling for their lack of deep flavor. While the Sierra is a somewhat memorable, snappy, yet uncouth hop-stavaganza, Turbodog is an ultra-typical microbrew that I'm sure will be impossible to recall in a matter of weeks.

I'd do more research, but I've caught the flu and it will keep me out of the beer tasting for this week. Hopefully my sickness will give me some to reflect, and maybe I won't buy whole six packs of questionable beers. Sure, there's a big payoff if one of them turns out to be good, but what seems to happen, more so with the microbrews, is I get stuck with six or twelve beers that I can barely stomach and a lack of fridge space for an emergency replacement.

I will go now and blow my nose for the seven-millionth time and then pass out somewhere with hot and cold flashes only to wake up sometime around 3am soaked with my own sweat suffering from a pounding headache. Yet, I still consider myself lucky to be incapable of having another gritty Turbodog. I'm such an ass when I'm sick.

To understand this beer, it is important to get to know the character of the man behind the brew. Julius Echter was one of the key names in German history for shaping the religious landscape during his time as Prince-Bishop of Würzburg. He was very ambitious at the start, and very goal-oriented; his goal being a full "ecclesiastical restoration" of his mostly protestant diocese. Can you believe that? The place was crawling with Protestants? Who dropped the fucking ball on that one?

Well history records it was probably a fall-out from the disposed Prince-Abbot Balthasar von Dernbach, whose reign produced nowhere near adequate amounts of inspirado to warrant a beer... not even a hard cider. Let it be noted, if you have a beer named after you, you've profoundly changed religious culture, and if you have a hard lemonade named after you then you're probably famous in your hometown for appearing on the Jerry Springer Show in an episode devoted to your penchant for sheep molestation.

Julius Echter was the driving force behind a new university, which taught all the important topics. With classes for Catholics like: Being a Better Catholic 101 and Catholicism in Everyday Life. And a few diverse offerings geared toward non-Catholics like: Eternal Damnation Workshop & Discussion Group and Protestantism & the Dangers of Burning in Hell 105.

Julius Echter was able to bring in over 100,000 new Catholics during his time, and in addition to the beer, he has a very fine set of towers and a really great hospital named after him. To sum it all up, people not currently burning in hell loved Julius Echter with a passion. And it's no surprise that the people would demand in his honor a beverage with a strong, lacy head, only mild bitterness, and some alluring fruity undertones.

Those unfamiliar with Echter, probably won't fully appreciate the raw historical significance of the flavors. You sort of had to be there, yah know?

So, whether you're at home being Catholic and despondent that you’re hopelessly Protestant golfing buddy is surely going to hell or you're at home being Protestant trying in vain to enjoy life despite the inevitability of God’s fiery wrath, grab yourself an ice cold Julius Etcher. It’s usually less than $2, and Julius, a notably responsible economist, would definitely agree with those numbers.

I have one little adjunct to this review, however...

This beer is kind of watery, a little stinky, and to be frank, who gives a crap about the lacy head or the baked banana undertones. Its main characteristics are that it's kind of watery and bares a somewhat foul sourness in the aftertaste. But hey, if you like Julius Echter the man, you'll find a way to like this beer. It's the same reason I love Mr. T cereal. And if I had the choice between Julius Etcher's hefe and Mr. T cereal mixed in a blender with some Coors, I've got to tell you, it's a toss up.

Triple X means a lot of things to a lot of people. So, you could go into the tasting of this beer with a lot of expectations. Folks "in the know" may be expecting a sort of creamy, dark beverage often referred to as a milk beer. Others may be expecting some explosions involving Vin Diesel crashing semi-truck, only to escape death on a snowboard. Some, taking the label for a parental warning, may be swayed from giving this beer to thier children. And if you're in the habit of letting a beer's label dissuade you from giving it to your children, then that’s your parenting choice, and I will have to respect it.

With all that said, let me outline the honest-to-God truth about this beer: Triple X is, in fact, a heavy, almost soupy beer with powerful chocolate flavor and a spooky reddish hue. The beer is surprisingly smooth and lacks the grittiness or an overbearing alcohol taste found in many stouts. It's quite good, quite unique, a little filling, and what it lacks in carbonation and liveliness, it makes up for in drinkability.

Action-packed? - Nope. Not really. In fact, if Vin Diesel drank two of these, the only action sequence he'd be ready for is an inter-galactic battle on the planet Crapper, where it's not so much important that he save the world, only that he lights a match when he's done and maybe changes the Glade plug-in.

Too racy for the kids, though? - Well, if I'm to believe most beer commercials on television, then ALL beer is too racy for children, since it surely leads to irresponsible sexual relations with promiscuous bikini-clad women. The fact that I have not been able to personally substantiate this occurrence, however, furthers my belief that not everything I see on TV is true. Yet, I applaud the fact that Mackeson was tactful enough to put the warning letters on their beer anyway, just in case it may have the potential to corrupt our youth. There are enough things to worry about with kids these days. It's important that these labels are present to help guide us. Otherwise, when we innocently give alcoholic beverages to our children, the next thing we know, without any fair warning, Carmen Elektra could suddenly burst from the closet proceeding to bump n' grind against the side of their racecar beds dressed as a slutty cow girl. Do you really want to take a chance with something like that?

Thanks Mackeson, for looking out for our kids! And thank you for a noteworthy beer experience.

PS. I did not photoshop this picture. I actually found this shit AFTER writing the article. Holy Shit!

Alas! I was tricked by that rouge nave, Robin Goodfellow. And while he did not turn into a horse and take me for a dangerous joy ride, he did get me to spend eight hard-earned dollars on his beer. As I recall from my English lit classes, you're supposed to be able to make Hobgoblins do household chores for you for some outrageously cheap price like a bowl of cream. Seriously! Things have changed since then! I had Hobgoblin over at my house last night, and I'm not one to lay blame, but somehow the laundry didn't get done and my wallet's a whole lot lighter for it. This beer is false advertising at its most antiquated.

Oh well. Once again, I was tricked by a very, very cool label into buying a beer way out of my price range. And I admit, I almost didn't go for it since I was disappointed by Wychwood's Scarecrow. However, I am really rather glad I got this beer. While not exceedingly memorable or unique, it was brightened by mild hops, while smooth and flavorful. It's a beer with a lot of tiny details that are actually hard to focus the pallet on since it’s so gosh darn easy to kick one back. I went through a six-pack like it was nothing. And you should see the way I go through nothing. I go through nothing like it's nobody's business. And if there's anybody who can go through nobody's business, it's me. Hell, I'm practically been the Nobody's-Business Analyst for my company for the last three years, and I'm definitely through with doing that.

Hobgoblin would suite just about any person who enjoys beer. If you're looking for something that's wild with character and intrigue, then you may be surprised to find that despite a dark and mysterious label, this beer is just good beer. Not a whole lot more too it. No strange spices. No super high hop or malt content. Just a smooth, warm, lively beer that really hits the spot. And while I still think Hobgoblin took me for about $1.50 more than he's worth, I will try to learn from my mistakes. Now off I go back to the supermarket to make more beer selections purely based the coolness of the label.

A long time ago there was an incident occurring when I entered the new Beverages & More in Costa Mesa where I found the beer aisles to be stocked with a ton of satanic beer labels, such as Unibroue and Arrogant Bastard Ale. The devil does not frighten me so much as his pairing with a large corporate beverage store. Throw in the fact that Unibroue beers are from Canada, the place that gave us Brian Adams, and you've got yourself an unholy beer trinity.

I got over that whole experience, because Unibroue, like sin, was pretty enjoyable. I did not succumb to the temptation to try their other brands, because like sin, they can be very costly, to my wallet and in turn, my soul. However, a great fan of the website, whom I have sex with out of wedlock, purchased Maudite for my research and I was faced with Unibroue’s demonic creature, once again, featured alongside a levitating canoe in a darkening red sky. Despite this warning, I expected the beer to be somewhat classy and smooth given the character of Blanche De Chambly. It turned out resembling brimstone in a bottle.

And I know I say that some beers are mean, either because they're super-hoppy or over-powering with alcohol. This beer wasn't really that down-home, angry guy on the porch kind of mean that you get from micro-brew pale ales. It was very refined, direct, and even somewhat sadistic with its brutal alcohol overtones. These overtones were so over, that the tiny undertones of fruit where damned into near subterranean-tones. A somewhat heavy ale with a sharp punch and a snap of bitterness, this beer is perfect for someone who's desensitized by a harsh life of IPA drinking and is looking for something a little heavier with a cold and aggressive kick. This beer is the unfeeling, vicious sniper of red ales with the flavor equivalent to a warm bag of glass.

I know that sounds bad, but this beer is of an extremely high quality. It's not intriguing or deep with a myriad of flavors. Yet, it's ruthless potency lends a shimmering aura to the red ale, which can be construed as awesome... in the old sense, like how if you ever saw God's face your head would explode from too much awe. Beware! This beer is spiked to hell with awe. So, should you choose to try this beer, and step onto the canoe with Satan himself, be ye warned! The stygian stream on which you travel is situated somewhere between awe-some and awe-ful.