I smell dark roasted barley, and oak.

I taste bittersweet hops well balanced with a golden roasted barley.  I taste the oak, too, and I’m not really sure if it adds anything.  Maybe a distant whiskey note, very subtle, and not actually necessary — as in, it doesn’t seem to add to the flavor.  To me the flavor actually takes a hit because of it.

Groovy.

I mean, it’s still groovy.  As in, that’s how it tastes.

Um.  But not quite Holy.  It doesn’t make the scale.

I shouldn’t write these things after drinking so many of them.  But you know, there’s nothing like a big, cold, strong ale when you’re stressed.  It’s good medicine for the soul.  Much better than those uber annoying Chicken Soup books that make you boo hoo and sends the snot running out your nose.

How does that help, really?

Now beer, or in this case, ale, it makes you feel good, it relaxes you, it fills your body with antioxidants and boosts your levels of vitamin B6.  As long as you don’t suffer from gout and you’re not behind a wheel, it’s a good thing.

I’ve got to go finish this big old bottle in a quiet place.  And, um, contemplate existence or something.

Peace out. 

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