The beer poured easily, which was a surprise considering its Viking roots, and flourished into a tall, off-white head. The smell of it was fruity, most likely from the malts, enriched with tones of chocolate and fig. All together, the beer smelled powerful. I prepared myself for the first sip and was surprised by its body.

The Skull Splitter, like a number of other fine UK ales, manages to pack a lot of flavor without making the body of the beer feel heavy. Honestly, “smooth” is a great descriptor for the sensation. The flavor itself began with a marriage of malts and fruit, most notably fig, lending to the beer what could have otherwise been misinterpreted as the taste of raisins (but who wants a raisin flavored beer?). Spice (perhaps from molasses) and hops eventually overpowered the malt in a dazzle of carbonation, tickling the taste buds and layering the palate in a finish of chocolate and the undeniable tang of currant.

Now, perhaps you’re reading this right now and thinking, that is exactly what I need. But for those of you who are not accustomed with drinking strong ales, be forewarned: Skull Splitter deserves its title. The flavors can be overpowering, and I imagine even ruin beer for the irregular drinker (a warning that should be probably be given with more of those sensationally flavor-packed microbrews cropping up across the world). I’d probably only take this to a PHM party, or a craft brew tasting. It’s not something you want to drink a lot of in one sitting, and I suspect getting drunk off it might lead to Viking nightmares.

Still, after all that, I liked the beer. It was intentionally crafted, unpredictable, and remarkably layered. You don’t get your flavors all at once, or even in the order the bottle describes, but you get them all eventually. The beer carries with it a lot of history and tradition, and it boldly stands as a landmark of freedom for craft beer everywhere.

It turned out I was right and five long days later I finally got the chance to partake. A few weeks ago I had the 12 year and enjoyed it immensely. The thirty year, with pricier barrels and a higher price tag itself, was bound to be even better. Pouring an unbelievable black, I was shocked at just how dark it really was and how it went directly from black to tan, on the head, with no blending or gradient of any kind. It was like the two colors had a disagreement and only circumstance had forced them together in m glass. The head settled from its initial two fingers to a layer of light brown, graced with a scattering of bubbles.

The nose. Wow. From the instant the liquid touched the air the scent of whiskey erupted into my nose. It was smooth, powerful and sweet, much as I was in my younger years. There were hints of an earthiness, but ever so slight and an equally elegant layer of musty wood chips (ironic and odd as it seems).

My first sip was shocking. That tip toeing wood chip and earthy tones kicked into overdrive. They were so forward initially, I had to ready myself to take another sip and see what other flavors were present. A definite brown sugar like sweetness was a nice introduction, once I had realized what would follow. There was a whisper of soy and then back to wood and whiskey. The finish was a beautiful warming, a perfect accompaniment to yet another rainy April evening in Chicago. If you like whiskey, or earthy, solid beers, this one is definitely a must try. It is well-crafted, big and bold without being obnoxious. The mouthfeel is smooth as can be, but balanced with carbonation enough to not be oppressive. An overall well balanced, thoughtful and artistic beer.

Firstly, BrewDog Hardcore IPA is visibly appealing in every aspect (packaging, color, clarity). I am not a huge fan of all of their packaging, but there is something radically appealing about the brown bottle, bedecked with a bold blue-green label and shocking white cap. It is a perfect example of texture, contrast, and personality. Furthermore, the color of the fermented beverage inside the bottle is also inspiring. It pours a warm rust color and makes an easy tan head that is absolutely bursting with resinous, citrusy hops. The color is uniform, cloudy and mysterious, and looks so tempting that your brain is begging you to bite the thing instead of drink it. Thankfully, Hardcore IPA doesn’t stop at looks.

Secondly, BrewDog Hardcore IPA tastes good. It’s that simple. It’s been hopped to hell with Centennial, Columbus and Simcoe hops (the same varieties were also used for dry hopping … to hell), so it packs that great hop menace you expect from an Imperial IPA. But it’s also balanced with Maris Otter, Crystal, and Caramalt, which give it that warm reddish brown hue. In any given sip, the tongue is barraged by bursting grapefruit, sinus-clearing pine, and sweet, toasty caramel … all big flavors delivered right to your brain stem with a well-carbonated punch. The finish is resinous and chewy, and not too boozy. But is this beer all nuance?

Lastly, BrewDog Hardcore IPA honors the Imperial IPA tradition while also maintaining nuance. It leans heavily on the hops, both during boil and post for dry hopping … more heavily than a traditional IPA. Its IBUs are well into the Imperial range (at least over 100 … BrewDog’s Hardcore is 150). It also packs an ABV of 9.2%, which is nearer the top of the “accepted” range for an Imperial IPA (8-10%). It relies on malts in a support role only.

In conclusion, BrewDog is a fully original and wildly creative Scottish brewery. Their Hardcore IPA is in keeping with their personality and modus operandi. It is visually appealing in every aspect, tastes good, and honors the Imperial IPA tradition while maintaining nuance. It deserves an A grade.  Grade: A

Tom:  I had Punk IPA about a year ago and it did not live up to the BrewDog hype in my opinion (will revisit).  With that in mind, I decided to give Hardcore a try.  Looking at the malt bill I knew this beer would be on the spicy aromatic side due to the Maris Otter and not to mention the color would be darker.  Displaying a burnt-orange hue and off white creamy head I got a big whiff of sticky resinous hops right away.  This sucker is bursting with a dank hop profile that compliments, nay, overpowers the huge malt backbone just like it should.

The smell is deep, dank, pungent, resinous, caramelized sugars, buckwheat honey, spicy (almost rye malt-like), and herbal.  A strong beer all the way around.  When I comes to the taste the bitterness sets in immediately.  The assault is on the entire palate.  The spiciness meshes well with the bitterness most on the sides of the tongue.  As you might expect, the finish is piney and resinous creating a mouth smacking dry effect.  The aftertaste is toasty and rather floral leaving a nice medley between hops and malt (with the focus on the former).  A very well constructed IPA that demands respect.  Grade: A

It smelled earthy, musty, and herbal.  The biggest aromas that I could pick up on come from the hops and heather honey.  I was unfortunately not able to pick up on the poppy seeds due to the sweet malt presense.  Toasty and toffee notes blended well with the above-mentioned aromas.

The taste is bitter and herbal in both the front and back of the palate.  Honey flavors were more noticeable towards the finish as the middle is pretty uneventful.  Basically, it was a rather bland malty consistency.  There was a minor amount of spice from one of the ingredients and a piney flavor that I guess might be from the kola nuts.  It was a pretty interesting brew to sip on, but in the end it didn’t strike me as one I’d go back to again and again.  I enjoyed the honey addition, recalling the Summit 90/-Scottish Ale I had a while back which has a great herbal spice and floral component.  The mouthfeel was moderately heavy and residual sugars were left on my palate.

This ale is a Triple by nature with the addition of spruce and pine for bittering.  Now, normally triples are the hoppier of the Belgian trappist or abby ales that are lighter in color.  I was not completely sold on the idea of pine/spruce balancing out a 7.5% abv yeasty brew.  However, I was taken aback by its complementing qualities.

When poured it opened up immediately into a very bready earthy aroma similar to well known triples.  Surprisingly though it lack that hoppy punch and instead offered a mellow jammy scent as found in quads.   I was expecting a burst of pine similar to a fresh bucket of pine-sol mop solution, yet it was restrained.  Smelled close to the Summit Heather Ale I previously reviewed, but no heather was used.  After some time I started to pick up on the aroma, and finally!  I recalled my families annual Christmas tree cutting.  The smell of scotch pine, spruce, and northern pine trees wafting through the air drove home the notes I picked up in the beer albiet they were minor.  The color was a shaped darker than most triples with a copper hue topped by a one finger head.

The flavor profile was yummy and for the most part true to style.  The abv partnered well with the yeast to deliver a rich bready and pear-like flavor while the malt seemed close to what you’d find in an English bitter.  Where was the pine/spruce?  What I found in the back half of this brew ushered in a brand new experience for me.  Michael Jackson wrote that this brew is “oily, medicinal, peppery, and aromatic.”  I might not agree on the latter, but the remaining three adjectives are spot on.  It carries a great spruce flavor at the end which then translated into an aftertaste that is peppery.  It seems somewhat fruity as well, but for the most part has a fresh grassy, herbal pine taste.  You can really tell the spruce/pine flavor when you hiccup.  The drying effect coupled with a slight hint of band-aid/Vick’s vapor rub (not in an off-flavor sense) gave it that medicinal effect.

Surprisingly well balanced, this was achieved without the use of hops…crazy!  As it warms the interaction with the bittering agents increases.

Grade: B

Thankfully, I was on to BrewDog before I bought 5 A.M. Saint. I’d seen the Tactical Nuclear Penguin and Sink the Bismarck videos. I knew what they were capable of.

I poured this rather expensive single bottle ($3.19, really?) into a regular pint glass. It was nice and red, with a foamy head, and a sucker punch of hops, right to the nose. They added a lot of finishing hops to this beer: Nelson Sauvin, Simcoe, Cascade, Centennial, and Ahtanum to be precise. Since finishing hops lend to the aroma of a beer, the nose on this one is particularly huge.

As for taste … it is surprisingly more balanced than expected. Without knowing the manner in which this beer was hopped, I would think that most people would expect it to be very hoppy based on the nose alone. But really, the taste is balanced and closer to the classic Amber/Red Ale style. It is malty and crisp, with a twang of hops in the finish that leaves you thirsty for more. I found this beer to be very unique, but also close enough to its style category to merit a higher grade despite the nuance.

At 5.0% ABV, here is a bright, unique Amber Ale that really does buck trends by means of the way it is hopped, but doesn’t sacrifice the style. It seems like BrewDog isn’t just throwing loads of hops into the mix just for the hell of it … perhaps they know a thing or two about the brewing process and are indeed trying to lead people towards a true expansion of the palate. I say, well done.

I decided to drink this Cask-aged Old Ale because I wanted other people to know about it, and I wanted to experience it for myself. Call it professional curiosity…

Ola Dubh Special Reserve 40 came in a really cool brown box á la most special barrel-aged beers. Except this one comes not in a bomber but a 12 oz. bottle. I wish that wasn’t the case, but … Highland Park 40 Year Old Single Malt Scotch Whisky casks are a little scarce these days. At $20/bottle, it’s no secret that this beer is a rarity that will only be around a short while.

I poured my bottle of Ola Dubh 40 into a tulip glass. Just like Old Engine Oil, it came out smooth and viscous, as if I was emptying the oil pan of my car. It was soft, warm, and uniform, and produced a little bit of head that developed right at the end of the pour. I could immediately smell the whisky and oak. It was sweet, dark, smoky, oily … mysterious. It was hard for me to believe the beer is only 8.0% ABV … it just seems so much bigger than that.

After my first sip I was convinced. This is an excellent, excellent beer with a great pedigree. The taste was rich with earthy cocoa notes, but also bitter. There are sweet and salty elements to the taste, which make it unique and hard to compare. Mouthfeel was good, with enough carbonation to bring out all the flavors. I let the glass sit and come up in temperature … and as it warmed, Ola Dubh 40 changed dramatically. The smoky nose and finish slipped away and left most of the sweet. When warm, the finish still had a slight hop twinge that kept it borderline balanced.

And let’s not forget the whisky. All the way through this ale is the wonderful smoky/sweet character of aged single malt Scotch. It mixes with slight oak flavors and gives the beer a regal air. It makes you feel and act like you’re sipping expensive whisky. You take your time, savor each small sip, letting it coat your palate, chewing all the way through it. I am dying to try Highland Park’s 40 Year Old.

All in all, I wish I could have this beer on hand. I might even go get another bottle to cellar for a while. $20 is a lot for a single 12-ounce bottle of beer, but I am in no way regretting my purchase. I’d really love to hear what others thought about this one.

Check out the Highland Park 40 Year Old tasting video to learn a little more about the Scotch this beer gets flavors from.

My expectation was something along the lines of a high viscosity liquid that produced a thick blended mocha head and smell that preceded the initial pour. What I found was only partially true. The head was the color mentioned, but lacked a slow forming creamy head. Instead, the carbonation was lower resulting in a one finger quick fading topping. Not to worry, it did have a big nose that wafted up to meet me with hints of licorice, burnt grains, and dark bitter chocolate. Interestingly enough it was not as dark as most imperial stouts I’ve had. It carried a dark coffee hue with brown edges. Some of the additional aromas (some of which developed as the glass warmed) were dried cherries, darker fruits, and a strong brown sugar/molasses notes.

Checking the fact sheet on their website I found out that the twist they uses involved the addition of dark Muscavado sugar which is essentially an unrefined brown sugar. This served to give Rip Tide some depth of flavors and add to the roasted/burnt grain characters. These flavors were obtained without the brew being syrupy or thick, if anything it is similar in mouthfeel to a lighter Porter (honestly a little watery). An earthy quality was prevalent throughout the brew along with an astringent bitterness which was a combination of burnt grains and hops. The hops used were Galena (high in AA%) and an English variety First Gold (a spicy, earthy hop). The aftertaste is pretty dry leaving a taste that I would possibly equate to a chocolate covered date or fig.

Side note: In 2007 it won world’s best stout-imperial from the World Beer Awards.

ABV: 8%

Grade: B+

I’ve had Porters and Stouts aged in re-used Bourbon barrels before. Part of the draw to this beer was that it aged in Scotch whiskey barrels (something I had not experienced before). Ola Dubh means “black oil” and boy does that ring true. As I emptied the bottle it ran out thick, heavy, and black. The appearance is comforting and inviting with a garnet hue on the edges and a dense mocha head coating the glass as you sip.

One of the reasons I love oak aged beers is because the aromas and tastes are multifaceted. My nose picked up a variety of smells such as chocolate, deep roasted grains, smooth oaky notes, plums, pears, fruity alcohol warmth, some earthy/grass highlight (probably from the peat), minor hints of coffee, and some hops.

It is hard to separate the taste from the mouthfeel, because I feel the two co-exist. At first, you are hit with a sweet, high viscosity, liquid that awakens your palate. You get a great sense of the whiskey notes as they provide and support this dark brew. The middle part of the sip is light and floral, while the latter half is filled with deep creamy roasted malts. Although it was thick, my palate was relatively clean and left with a well-balanced array of dark fruits and malts. The 8% ABV was noticeable, but I finished this beer in 15 minutes due to its smoothness. Its bittersweet chocolate quality complement serving it with dessert or as an after dinner drink.

I approached this beer with high expectation and was not disappointed.

ABV: 8.0%

Grade: A-

First, I’ll make sure I confirm that this is actually a Brewdog beer that was brewed as a collaborative effort with some of Stone’s brewers. So basically, what you need to know is that some of the world’s craziest brewing minds got together and drummed up this concoction. They’re not really paying homage to any style or flavor here … they’re putting on their lab coats and safety goggles and having some fun. This excerpt from the write-up on the label says it all:

Bashah. What does it mean?…Since meaning is a mere illusion, perhaps we shouldn’t let it have any influence on our destiny. This particular beer has refused to succumb to the illusion of meaning or allow capricious parameters to have any influence on its own fermented fate…

But now the important part. How does this self-proclaimed “meaningless” beer taste? Not half bad … but it actually ends up suffering from its identity crisis.

It pours black (they got that part right), and although the one-finger head disappears in a flash, there’s still some subtle lacing that remains. The nose is great … piney and grassy hops blending with roasted coffee. To be honest, the only thing I don’t pick up are any elements of a Belgian strong dark ale. The malts aren’t near as complex or caramelly, and there’s no fruity/spicy note from the yeast to speak of. So far … pretty good.

If you’re not a regular beer drinker, the closest thing I can equate the taste to is a combination of coffee, unsweetened chocolate, and one of those wheat-grass drinks. And in all fairness, this beer seems to at least have stayed true – for the most part – to a double IPA. The malt and hops are well balanced, but the hops win the race (as they should), the mouthfeel is smooth, and the slight warming sensation at the end tells you it certainly isn’t weak. It’s hard to argue that the dark malt and grassy hops compliment each other all that well, though. And completely lost in the equation are the poor Belgians. It’s like inviting a famous celebrity to a party, but then scratching them from the guest list without telling any of the other guests. The anticipation is high, but it ends in a lot of disappointment. Especially with the $8 per bottle price tag. It’s unfortunate, too, because this beer really would benefit from a sweeter, more complex maltiness.

So what does Bashah mean? In my mind, two things. 1) Craft brewing is breaking new ground, both in the US and internationally. 2) Some stones are still better left unturned.

ABV: 8.6%

Grade: C+