10% ABV from a bomber
My reviews this week have been pretty off-beat: I had one for a mysterious (and possibly poisonous) homemade Bangladeshi whiskey, one for an artificially-colored red Barbadian lager that tasted like cinnamon soda, and tomorrow’s post will be a bit oddball as well. Thus, I realized that I’d better get up a review for a legitimately good craft beer tonight, lest all the nerds in my audience feel alienated and desert The Vice Blog (“He used to be good. Now all he reviews are pickle-flavored pilsners and malt-liquors with fruit roll-ups infused in them.” “I agree totally. And I think he makes up most of his stories too.”) Naw, I can’t play my beer geek audience like that. I couldn’t live with myself if they left me and were forced to read about quality beer on the websites of annoying and humorless pedants that use words like diacetyl in ordinary conversations (“I’m sorry, Mike, I’m not much of a beer guy, I don’t think I know the term ‘diacetyl.’ Could you speak to me in layman’s terms?” “Uh…that was layman’s terms, Jim.”). Pretentious twits that don’t even swallow. The beer that is. They don’t want to get drunk. Not that their wives would allow them to, it might fuck up their chances of completing tomorrow’s “honey do” list.
My friend picked up a bottle of Unibroue’s Seventeenth anniversary last weekend and I was itching to try it. Thus, I had to peer pressure him into letting me have some. I’m still not sure how that works. I don’t know why I don’t drink more Unibroue beers when I love them so much. Heck, they produce one of my ten favorite beers on planet earth. And their selections are both plentiful and cheap in NYC. Maybe I take them for granted. Or maybe I’m embarrassed that I have no idea how to pronounce the French-Canadian brewery’s name. I always say “unibrow” as in, “Man, Ernie, your boyfriend Bert sure has a prominent unibrow. Has he considered waxing or plucking? Lasers even?” But I know that pronunciation has to be incorrect. Any how, I’m an American jingoist and I don’t like to say things with a nose-in-the-air, snotty French accent that sounds like you’re dry-heaving: Oooo-na-brrrrrrrrrreeeeh.
Whatever the case, Unibroue makes great fucking beers and this special one-time-only release is quite swell too. The fun thing about anniversary beers is that you rarely know what style you’re getting. It’s always exciting to pop the cork or cap and–“Whoa! I didn’t expect something that dark!” I had no clue this was going to be a bottle-conditioned Belgian strong dark. And a good one at that. Smells and tastes of tons of purple fruits: plums, grapes, raisins, and cherries. Some nice potent heat, like a Scotch or red wine. But still very drinkable, though I only had about 30% of the bottle (let’s just say my friend I was sharing the bomber with “enjoys” quality beer at a slightly faster rate than me). As with most potent brews, I enjoyed this one more the warmer it got. Search it out and nab it if you can find it. 17 reminded me that I need to start reviewing more Unibrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeehs.