homerkin n (1662 -1663)
Old liquid measure for beer. “I’m so thirsty I could drink a homerkin of beer,” Simpson lamented.
Duff Beer: Any Simpsons fan will feel obliged to buy this on sight, and it certainly looks great in the bottle. But it’s best left there — the contents of these cute little bottles is incredibly disappointing, a Budweiser-esque exercise in blandness.
Would I buy it again? No.
Delirium Tremens: Everything about this beer is utterly charming — the quaint bottle, the cute name, the fruity but demure palate. And it kicks like a mule. A gem.
Would I buy it again? You betcha.
Skull Splitter: Fantastic label, and quite a decent drink to boot. It’s a strong ale with coffee/molasses flavours, very much akin to the Warka and Gouden Carolus. I don’t like it quite as much as the Carolus though — it has a slightly bitter, medicinal finish that is jarring rather than refreshing.
It’s also an expensive drop, so chances are that better options will be available in the same price range when you’re making your selection.
Would I buy it again? Probably not, given the price.
Weihenstephaner Original: This is a very likeable drop, exhibiting smooth lemony, bready flavours and holding a decent head. It’s by no means overpowering, so it should work well both with food and for casual drinks.
Would I buy it again: Yes.
Peroni Gran Riserva: Speaking of aesthetics, I feel that I have a better grasp of Italian tastes than British. Some years ago I sampled a very expensive local wine in Trento that the seller was obviously very proud of. I wasn’t floored by the taste, but it had a remarkably sustained presence on the palate: once it moved in, it seemed to linger forever.
This beer has a similar character. It starts with a clean but unremarkable lager flavour, but then takes up residence on your palate, and invites the rest of the family over for good measure. And when it (eventually) finishes, it leaves a delightful, zesty feeling on the tongue.
In other words, this is the best lager I’ve ever tried.
Would I buy it again? Well, duh.
This decidedly purple prose is from The Gentleman’s Magazine, Jan-June 1886, edited by Sylvanus Urban.
Why did I bother to blog this? Well, it’s one of the very few instances of the word ‘bierophant’ on the web. Moreover, I like purple.
(via wasspencer)
Chimay Blue: In theory, I should be all over this beer like a rash. It’s Belgian, and Trappist to boot. It has a high alcohol content, and warm toffee/caramel notes with subtle fruity undertone. So why do I hesitate to praise it?
Here’s why: there’s strange metallic twang on a the mid-palate, like a banjo player at a harp recital. And it’s not one of those strange things that passes after the second mouthful. Sip, smile, TWANG, wince, repeat.
Would I buy it again?
Only to check that there wasn’t something wrong with this sample.Yes, for sure.
P.S. I did try it again, and I’m glad I did. No more metallic twang, just lots of the rich minced fruit flavours that Trappist beers manifest so well. So I’ve completely revised my rating on this.
La Guillotine: Very nice, strongly reminiscent of Delirium Tremens — even the bottle is similar. Gentle vanilla notes build to a strong mid-palate oomph. Recommended. I’d like to test this side by side with the Delirium Tremens, to see which I prefer.
Would I buy it again? Sure.