Fresh-Eyed Daisy or Black-Eyed Susan? (Widmer Pitch Black IPA)

My last foray into the brave new world of Black IPAs was 21st Amendment's less than stellar Back in Black. However, the idea of darkening IPAs has intrigued me since that San Francisco beer crossed my path at this year's KLCC brewfest. There have been too many times I've had my brains hopped out without even a kiss of flavor and it always seems as if it's the bed of barley that's missed in the passionate rush to get straight to the flavor.

So, when I found the Widmer Bros. had attempted a simmilar beer, I had to know how a solid Oregon brewery does the dirty (ehrm...IPA that is).

Let's just say that I heart the Pacific Nortwest (and un-heart California) for a reason. The Widmer Pitch Black IPA reminds me a lot of their Broken Halo IPA in terms of aroma and hop taste. What sends me over the moon for this beer is the rich malt flavor that balances out a definite increase in hoppage. The malts in this beer give the smooth flavor (a la New Belgium's 1554) that makes me feel like I'm drinking a good porter, but finishes with the gorgeous fireworks only the best IPAs can deliver.

In short: Black IPAs have found a standard. I look forward to see if this stays a limited release or a Widmer mainstay.

Apologies to A, I meant to save him some so he could share in the review. Whoops.

Beer like Ferrets?

After sipping on (and thoroughly enjoying) what is a solidly delicious offering from Deschutes Brewery (Red Chair NWPA), J and I had the interesting experience of sampling Widmer's W'11 KGB Russian Imperial Stout. I won't speak for J, who may have had an entirely different experience of this brew, but as for myself:

As a fan of Widmer in general and very impressed with the past incarnations of the "W" series, I was excited to have my taste buds tickled by this latest offering. I was not disappointed; the KGB certainly was a tickler. After presenting itself as a pretty all-around standard Stout, its roasted, malty presence left on a curious note. As its cool, smooth effervescence slid down my gullet, I tasted something furry. Not furry in texture so much as furry in taste -- that distinctly musty flavor distinctive of the scent of fur, particularly wet fur. Now, perhaps this furry flavor was intentional, to remind us of those conspicuously Russian, if not caricatured, fuzzy hats of Siberian traipsing comrades.

Cut to a scene of hard drinking Russians in some hole in the snow refuge from the freezing Siberian winter, their snow encrusted hats melting from the heat of an open fire, à la Indiana Jones and the Raiders Lost Ark. This was not the fur it reminded me of, however. It reminded me of something much less palatable. And what could be less palatable than a damp, furry Russian hat? How about ferrets?

 

Having once owned a ferret, I am thoroughly familiar with the way their particular scent has an uncanny ability to stick in the back of one's nose, almost feeling as though one had tasted it. Perhaps it was this sticking quality that reminded me so inopportunely of ferrets, but a certain underlying mustiness contributed, as well. In the end, I had to laugh. It was quizzical, this taste. I wouldn't call it a bad beer, but not something I would go to frequently, and needless to say, somewhat disappointing considering my high expectations. My taste buds certainly had been tickled, nonetheless.