

It is time for another beer from the Notes. For any who don't know about this series of blog entries, here's the scoop: I stumbled upon an old file that contained tasting notes from approximately two and a half years ago, possibly even older than that (definitely older than that - more like four or five years old). I decided to post these very sparse notes and I hope to eventually find these same beers again and evaluate them once more, just to see what differences are manifest.
This third beer of the Old Tasting Notes series is: Downtown Brown, a brown ale from ... well, I'm not totally sure(nor could I capture a good pic!). Here's the deal: I wrote in my notes "Downtown Brown - Acme." So, I looked up those terms and came up with North Coast Brewing, who carries the Acme beers (though not the brown anymore?); and Lost Coast Brewing, who has a beer called Downtown Brown, though Acme is not associated with it.
The Lost Coast label looks very familiar, but that could be deceptive. I like their Great White beer, since that's my favorite shark. So, I may not be remebering the label from the day of the tasting. I just don't know. I may be getting the label mixed up with Beertown Brown, too. The "Acme" thing just threw me right off.
Thus and so, on to the notes. The scorecards used contained five categories: Color, Collar, Boquet, Mouthfeel, Taste, Overall. At the bottom of the card there is a space to score the beer from 1 to 5. They're very generic scoresheets and notes.
COLOR - Orange/Brown
COLLAR - Spectacular - thick & foamy
BOQUET - Malty
MOUTHFEEL - Light - smooth
TASTE - Cologne/perfume - missing the nut of brown
OVERALL - Color is off - almost a brown hint, but not quite
SCORE (1-5) - 2
COMMENTS - Should be a red, then would be to style
The notes are kind of boring. It almost sounds like I got a bad bottle, foamy and solventy.
Whatever. The next Old Taste will be a "specialty ale". I don't know what that means. I think it's a winter beer. Until then, have an old pint. Er, no, just have a pint.

It is time for another beer from the Notes. For any who don't know about this series of blog entries, I stumbled upon an old file that contained tasting notes from approximately two and a half years ago, possibly even older than that. I decided to post these very sparse notes and I hope to eventually find these same beers again and evaluate them once more, just to see what differences are manifest.
This third beer of the Old Tasting Notes series is:
Red Nectar, an amber ale from Nectar Ales, now owned by Firestone Walker.
Well, I apologize, I have very little extra info about this brewery. A slacker I am, obviously. Go surf the Firestone Walker website. They are reputable.
Thus and so, on to the notes. The scorecards used contained five categories: Color, Collar, Boquet, Mouthfeel, Taste, Overall. At the bottom of the card there is a space to score the beer from 1 to 5. They're very generic scoresheets and notes.
COLOR - Red
COLLAR - Lingering
BOQUET - Pronounced hops
MOUTHFEEL - Astringent, full body
TASTE - Slightly bitter, great hops finish
OVERALL - Excellent - perfect balance of hops & body - finish is beautiful
SCORE (1-5) - 5
COMMENTS - Spectacular color, superb balance - necessary for regular consumption
'Necessary for regular consumption' - well, isn't that ambiguous and open to interpretation. Either I want to drink this beer a lot or the 'superb balance' makes it drinkable.
Whatever. The next Old Taste will be a brown ale. Until then, have an old pint. Er, no, just have a pint.

What is the point in being a “contributor” to a blog if you never contribute? It is a query akin to many such questions that plague my mentality on occasion: Shouldn’t people pass some kind of test before they are given a license to operate a motor vehicle? How can I be the staff photographer when there really is no staff to speak of and the photos I produce are at least as rare as Bigfoot? Are you a brewer if you don’t brew but have brewed? I don’t know. These questions are for the ponderers to ponder.
I have at this particular juncture, however, managed to have another pint. It is an authentic Trappist product. It says so right on the label. This quaff is a Belgian Ale weighing in at 9.2%. More specifically, it is the Trappistes Rochefort 8, the Green Cap. In 2004 and 2006 this brew took home the Gold Medal from the World Beer Championships. To really get details about this fine import you might visit their website: http://www.trappistes-rochefort.com/. I must warn you, if you are French impaired you will gain little from the visit. Since it originates with Trappists, I did a little web search. According to a well known internet source: A Trappist beer is a beer brewed by or under control of Trappist monks. … Only these seven breweries are authorized to label their beers with the Authentic Trappist Product logo that indicates a compliance to various rules edicted by the International Trappist Association. Right. I am not going to pretend to know anything further about the brewers of my pint. (Saying that, I have probably offended a great many readers and completely alienated those of you out there who really appreciate the art and craft of brewing. My apologies.)
The head was quite ferocious in its arrival. It was an off-white colour with many tiny spheres that dissipated leaving large orbs that collapsed into a film of foam upon the surface of the chocolately hued potation. Although a nice dark brown (very fitting for a Belgian-Style Dark Strong Ale), I swear I could see a tinge of fire red as the light pierced the glass directly. The bouquet did not hint at hops, but had a spicy note that I can’t quite pin down. My first down hit my palate like any good Belgian should, a nice tart mouth awakening pop that spoke of the alcohol it contained. Smooth. As it glided down the gullet the sweet malt flavor took up abiding about the tongue. Skitting between my teeth like a gnome flitting between trees was a fruity presence. There! Did I just get a bit of slight hop flavor? Maybe, maybe not. Give this beer a check mark in the “complex” column. It is spicy, sweet, smooth, medium bodied, mouth awakening, and yet all the while comfortable.
I like it. It is that perfect end to a long day. I feel the heat in my ears. As I sit and try to describe the various qualities I realize that my glass is empty. So is the bottle. I do not regret spending $4.99 for these 11.2 fluid ounces one bit. I did not purchase the “6”. I am an idiot. Perhaps it will be there when I return. I don’t know what the monks do when they are not brewing, but I dare say they should spend less time doing it.


This another beer that makes me feel so very cosmopolitan, so recherche; like James Bond of the beer world. Just imagine: you walk into a sweet pub, all decked out, full of pomp and circumstance and you say to the bartender: "I'm a beerist, {insert name here} the Beerist. I'll take a Korbinian - draft not bottled." The bartender looks at you and says, "What? Are you on crack?" You smile glibly and say, "No."
Well, let's get on to serious matters. The folks at the Weihenstaphener brewery were kind enough to provide some background info on their spectacular doppelbock. The beer is named after Saint Corbinian. He was sent to Bavaria to evangelize and established a Benedictine monastery on Nahrberg Hill near the city of Freising in 725 AD. Apparently, Corbinian was the one converted, for now the Weihenstaphener Brewery sits atop that hill and continues to produce superb beer.
This beer is a bock, so it's stylistically appropriate for the namesake to be a monk, eh, even if his name doesn't end in -ator. Ironically, Korbinian is also the name of a neurologist from the nineteenth century - and this doppelbock can affect the brain, that's for sure.
The label is laden with imagery and symbolism as well. The brewery sent me an explanation of the images. Instead of mangling it all in the retelling, I'll quote their words:
"Corbinian's symbol is the saddled bear. According to his hagiography, a bear killed Corbinian's pack horse on the way to Rome and so the saint commanded it to carry his load. Once he arrived in Rome, however, he let the bear go, and it lumbered back to its native forest. Both the heraldic element and the legend itself carry significant symbolism. One interpretation is that the bear tamed by God's grace is the Bishop of Freising himself and the pack saddle is the burden of his episcopate. The bear's submission and retreat can also be interpreted as Christianity's "taming" and "domestication" of the ferocity of paganism and, consequentially, the laying of a "foundation for a great civilization in the Duchy of Bavaria."
Korbinian is a "dunkles starkbier," or, dark strong beer. Living up to its name, it pours very dark - a brownish red, like beautiful cherry wood. It's got a thick, smooth, yellow-white head that came apart as I drank, bits of it floating here and there across the vast expanse of the body. It was like globs of fungus floating on a dark pool. Or maybe the continents as Pangea split.
My favorite quality of the double bock was its aroma. It smelled like a muffin; a bready, alcohol drenched muffin. Yes, it's like a perfect pastry in a bottle. Anyone for breakfast? Hmm ... make some beer pancakes and drench them with a syrupy scotch ale and accompany that with Korbinian. Screw the 'breakfast of champions,' that's the 'breakfast of brewers.'
As far as flavor, it's oily sweet with a brief touch of carbonation. It evaporates from the back of the tongue, leaving a crisp finish. No hops were evident so I loved it even more. It's a heavy beer, made for after dinner (if you decide against breakfast, that is). It's very rich.
Many thanks go out to Nicole Rupprecht from Weihenstephaner. I was terribly excited to find her response to my email waiting in my inbox Monday morning and I'm glad to know a little more about the 'world's oldest brewery.' I look forward to trying more of their beers.
Until the next pint ....

It is time for another beer from the Notes. For any who don't know about this series of blog entries, I stumbled upon an old file that contained tasting notes from approximately two and a half years ago, possibly even older than that. I decided to post these very sparse notes and I hope to eventually find these same beers again and evaluate them once more, just to see what differences are manifest.
This third beer of the Old Tasting Notes series is:
Red Seal Ale, a pale ale from North Coast Brewing.
Apparently, North Coast has been around since 1988. No one informed me. After poking around on their website, I think I may have had some of their beers other than Red Seal, but I'm not sure. I know I've heard of them. Old Rasputin and Brother Thelonius. They also have some Acme Ales which I desire to consume. I automatically thought of the Coyote and Roadrunner cartoons. With such good beer names and a good reputation ("worth seeking out" according to MJ and lots of awards) I definitely want more.
Thus and so, on to the notes. The scorecards used contained five categories: Color, Collar, Boquet, Mouthfeel, Taste, Overall. At the bottom of the card there is a space to score the beer from 1 to 5. They're very generic scoresheets and notes.
COLOR - Orange - kind of cloudy
COLLAR - Clung well to the glass - good mix of bubbles
BOQUET - Strong hops
MOUTHFEEL - Sticky, kind of oily
TASTE - Unexpected tang, excellent hop finish
OVERALL - Very nice, decently balanced, not overpowering
SCORE (1-5) - 4
COMMENTS - Fermentation not perfect - too orange for a red, decent for style - too cloudy - yeast bite
I sound stupid with those ratings. 'Good mix of bubbles?' Who says that? Would you go to your bartender and say, "Yo, I wanna beer with a good mix of bubbles?" No. Stupid. My favorite dumb comment is "too orange for a red." Obviously I simply read the name and assumed this was a red ale. I did not do my homework and realize it's a pale ale. 'Fermentation not perfect.' What in the name of brewing does that mean? I embarass myself with these stupid rantings.
Whatever. The next Old Taste will be an American amber ale. Until then, have an old pint. Er, no, just have a pint.
