7.2% ABV on draught

Batch thinks I’m a Stone “homer” and he’s absolutely right. I’m the motherfucking Harry Caray of Stone Brewery except I’m a cheerleader for a line of beers that is always world-class while the Cubbies have been pretty much futile for going on a full century. Having said that, the Oaked Arrogant Bastard was the rare Stone beer I hadn’t loved the previous, and only time, I’d had it before. Which is weird because I’m a huge regular Arrogant Bastard fan and “oaking” a beer without question usually makes it even better. What is an oaked beer you might ask? Pretty much just what it sounds like. You take a strong ale (or other high ABV beer) and throw it in a oaked barrel–usually, but not always, one that previously stored bourbon, Scotch, or wine–and let the brew further age and mature. In fact, many of my favorite all-time beers are oaked, brews such as Old Yeti imperial stout and countless beers from the magnificent Allagash brewery. Oaking a beer pretty much elevates it to a higher class of drink as it becomes infused with hints of wood and whiskey (among other things) that simply can’t be imparted in the standard beermaking process.

So why didn’t I like the somewhat rare Oaked Arrogant Bastard the first time I had it but absolutely loved it this time? Let’s get to that question in a moment, but first I want to discuss the beer. Stone beers are famous for their power and potency (heck, they put “You are not worthy” on their caps) and with the exact same ABV as the un-oaked Arrogant Bastard this one is no exception. However, the wood chips seem to mute the alcoholic, whiskey taste on the tongue that the un-oaked version provides. I’m not sure it’s that great of thing for pure taste reasons as I love a very alcoholic-flavored beer, but it surely does make the Oaked more palatable, drinkable, refreshing, and well-rounded. This beer also feels less hoppy, but it still has a ton of taste so that’s a minor quibble. Caramel maltiness, sweet with vanilla hints, and just a tad bitter. Georgeous.

I will definitely be drinking Oaked more in the future than the standard Arrogant Bastard as it is a bit more unique and complex. But I truly adore them both, what can I say, I am the Harry Carey of Stone, Holy Cow!

So going back to my earlier question–why did I find the Oaked on tap to be a near masterpiece after having not been too pleased with the bottled version? Could it simply have been a bad batch the first time or was it something completely different?

Maybe it is that draught beer is superior to bottled? Who knows but personally I do prefer draught all things being even. There is in fact a huge debate amongst beer snobs as to whether draught or bottled beer is better. Actually, there’s not much of a debate as most everyone agrees that tap beer is better. The debate is over why it is better. Even connesseurs aren’t 100 percent sure. Many claim it could even just be a psychological thing! You’ll see all the “experts” throw out numerous reasons for draught’s superiority with the most common thoughts being that it:

*is fresher, closer to being straight from the brewery’s tanks.

*is more rounded with less bite.

*has less chance of being exposed to ruinous sunlight.

*has less chance of coming into contact with the elements making up the beer’s container. Ever noticed that most crappy canned beer tastes metallic?

*has less CO2 to screw up taste and add bitterness, as compared to the massive CO2 added upon bottling.

*not pasteurized or filtered as opposed to most bottled beers (bottle-conditioned brews excepted of course).

*is better “handled” in transportation. I mean, have you ever seen the kinds of roughnecks that transport beer across this fine country?

I’m not sure if I agree with any of those reasons over any other, but I agree with all of them to a certain extent. The key thing is that draught beer has less chance of having something go wrong with it that could fuck up the beer’s flavor while bottled beers have about a zillion things that could go wrong with them from the list above. But, don’t be confused, my majority of beer consumption is from bottles. It simply has to be if one wants to drink beers from not just this entire country but from this entire world. I’m not trying to say that bottled beer is bad, just that it is usually a hair worse than it’s draught counterpart. But, it’s still beer and if you are drinking a quality one it will still be delicious poured straight from the bottle into a nice piece of glassware.

I’ll end the debate by saying I hope to have another Oaked Arrogant Bastard bottle soon and see what I think. I’ll report my findings. Drinking numerous Stone beers as part of a draught vs. bottle science fair experiment ain’t exactly a tough life!

A

6.9% ABV on draught

Decided to turn Friday night happy hour into an orgy of IPA tastings as I joined my friends at the great Lansdowne Road. To set my bearings, I began with my favorite, and perhaps the best single IPA on the market, Dogfish Head 60 Minute. A brew I had previously awarded a solid A to. Delicious. Next, I went with the single IPA from my favorite American brewery, Stone out of California. Stone’s “schtick” is to make big and bold beers that will kick your ass and leave you begging for mercy, and at 6.9% for their single IPA, they aren’t joking. It clocks in at 0.9% more manly than the 60 Minute. (Stone also makes a double, or “Imperial,” IPA known as Ruination which is outstanding.)

I’ve had the Stone IPA countless times but compared side-by-side and minutes apart with the 60 Minute a stark difference is easily apparent. I hate to denigrate the great Stone, but their IPA is simply not as good as Dogfish Head’s. It’s not as flavorful, I don’t believe it’s as complex, and it’s a little too sour. Incredibly hoppy with tastes of citrus and the outdoors.

It’s almost surprising that I like Stone less than 60 Minute because I’m usually the guy that likes big beers, the more potent the better. Just not in this case. Having said that, the Stone IPA is incredibly drinkable and I am certainly not displeased to ever have one in my hand. It’s just, if I have to choose between this and the 60 Minute, I’m going with the latter.

All told, it’s still an outstanding IPA, maybe even my overall second favorite. I will even be so bold as to say that it is Stone’s worst regular bottling. And, when you still score an A- on that, you know you’re doing something right and making some truly memorable beers. That’s why Stone is the best brewery in America.

A-

11.26% ABV from a bomber (“limited early 2008 release”)

Any one who becomes known as a beer connoisseur—or a suppose I connoisseur of anything for that matter—will most frequently be asked to list their favorite(s) of whatever it is they lord a connoisseurship over. So the strip club connoisseur (read: your one asocial, sleazy, and most importantly lazy friend) gets asked to list his favorite peel joints across this great land, while someone like me is often asked what my favorite beer is. Most frequently to that question I answer Old Guardian. My favorite style of beer from my favorite American brewer. I’m not sure if it truly is my absolute favorite on all 365 days of the year, no matter the mood, but it’s certainly close. The thing is, though, that I intentionally avoid drinking this masterpiece 365 days a year, no matter the mood. That used to be unavoidable as it was pretty darn tough to even locate this bottling in New York City. I knew a few specialty beer stores that got Stone brewings (most usually Arrogant Bastard or their IPAs) but Old Guardian was rarely stocked. Thus, there was a time or two when I came upon a fresh shipment of the product and absolutely cleared a store out of bombers. (And do you know how hard it is to lug 12 bombers down a Manhattan sidewalk, clanking them around like you’ve stolen an alley’s bowling pins?!)

But, now, Old Guardian is fairly easy to find as most all Whole Foods have it at all times. So, now my rare drinking of the beer is done on purpose for, you see, I don’t want to ever not love this one. And, with my ever-present goal of trying as many different beers as possible, I often neglect to drink the ones that I’ve always loved, intentionally, and dumbly, avoiding them on the shelves. I probably hadn’t had an Old Guardian in a half-year or so when I saw it on the shelf and realized, It’s time again. A part of me is worried every single time that I retry an all-time favorite that it just won’t be the same. I simply won’t enjoy it as much. I’ll have somehow grown in my beer-drinking ways since my last sampling and realize a certain beer just ain’t what I used to think it was. I mean, my favorite movie used to be “Flight of the Navigator.” And then I turned 8. Therefore, I was a bit leery as I opened a gorgeous bottle of Old Guardian. Wow, my fears were quickly assuaged and I was taken to heaven. This beer is so potent and so tasty. It’s almost not like beer, more akin to a Sam Adam’s high ABV Utopia, though clearly not as intense. The orange and banana alcoholic taste shocks your tongue. You don’t take big gulps, just tiny little sips, savoring every single whiff and drink of this beauty. The flavor staying with you well after you put your beer back down. I like to stick my face completely into the glass as far as it will go and inhale this beer deeply for a good minute or so like I’m some sixteen-year-old redneck that stole a nitrous tank.

I wanted to time how long it would take to drink, to savor, an entire bomber of Old Guardian. I started the stopwatch at 9:18 PM and with the final sip I clicked it off. It was 11:15. A two-hour beer! In fact, a two hour high. It’s like floating on a cloud, not like getting wasted or fucked up as a bad macrobrew makes you feel. In fact, I didn’t even realize I was drunk until my friend came home and I started rambling on and on about how sorry I was that his favorite NBA team, the Spurs, had just lost their playoff series to the Lakers. Only then did I realize how wasted I was. Someone must have roofied my Old Guardian. Then again, funny thing, I was by myself all night. And, I haven’t roofied myself since freshman year. Nope, the beer had done it’s work. And I went to bed happy. I love you Old Guardian, see you again in October or so.

A+

7.2% ABV from a bomber

I’m pretty sure this is the first craft beer I ever had. I tried it when I was 23 or 24 at arguably the best beer bar in Manhattan, the Ginger Man. The huge place is usually packed during happy hour and on evenings, but on that particular Saturday afternoon—perhaps on ALL Saturday afternoons—it was completely empty. Me and my date were the only customers. And, yes, I do take dates to dark bars in the middle of a beautiful weekend day. What, like I’m gonna go hold hands at a museum, Christ.

The sole bartender that day was bored out of her wits. She needed to find some way to liven things up. You know how Baskin-Robbins lets you sample some of their 31 flavors with those little pink plastic spoons? Well, on this Saturday afternoon, the bartender let me sample many of the Ginger Man’s seemingly hundreds of draught offerings via tiny rock glass.

Still being a green craft beer drinker—I think vodka tonics were my potent potable of choice during this era—I was pretty much at her mercy. And, she delivered. One tap immediately caught my eye: Arrogant Bastard. What a name! It was exactly what I thought I was at the time (I was actually just a Big Douchebag probably but that isn’t a great name for a beer). AB’s gargoyle logo was so freaking cool too. Oh, and the taste! It was an eye-opening experience, like losing my virginity. I didn’t know beer could smell so good, look so good, and taste so fucking good.

Instantly, on the drunken spot, I declared Arrogant Bastard my favorite beer in the world. Believe me, it didn’t have that stiff of competition back then.

AARON’S FAVORITE BEERS
(circa September 2002)

1. Arrogant Bastard on draught

2. Yuengling bottled

3. Bud Light in a pitcher costing less than $8

4. Natty Light from a can that is part of a 30-rack.

5. Saranac root beer.

I wasn’t kidding. By the sober next day I was on the Stone brewery website reading all I could about my new favorite brew. I even ordered an AB t-shirt and pint glass (pictured above—how I have not gotten brutally drunk in the last six years and hurled that through a TV or wall is beyond me). I wore my shirt proudly and it garnered much attention and chuckles, acting as a great conversation piece. I think most people assumed it was one of those faux-vintage pseudo-hip fake company t-shirts you get at Urban Outfitters.

“Nope, it’s a real beer,” I’d tell them, “It’s my FAVORITE beer.”

Wow. I thought I was so freaking cool for having such an “obscure” non-macro as my favorite beer. Back then it was pretty hard to find Arrogant Bastard. Only a few bars had it on tap and only a specialty store or two in the NYC area had it bottled. Now, it’s a relatively ubiquitous craft beer. Hell, I bought this bomber from my supermarket for the outstandingly cheap price of $3.99.

Arrogant Bastard may no longer be my favorite and, quite frankly, I don’t even drink it that often any more, preferring to try new brews, but it’s still a magnificent beer. Popping the top, the beer smells amazing. Tasting it brings back nostalgic memories much like it must have done when Proust bit into his madeleine. Arrogant Bastard’s taste is great, just hoppy enough, smooth, and delicious. It’s probably too aggressive for your typical macro drinker, but it’s a perfect masterpiece to me.

I won’t claim that it blows my mind any more like it did back in 2002—then again, very few beers blow my mind these days—but goddamn it is still goddamn good. Sometimes, I got to remind myself to quit being such a man of novelty and start more frequently enjoying what I enjoy. I think it’s time to become good friends again with Arrogant Bastard.

A

(Note: Stone Brewery has the best motto around: “Fuzzy yellow beer is for wussies.” Indeed. Take that to heart Corona drinkers)