Allagash – Black

ALLAGASH WHITE gets all the girls, metaphorically speaking. One of craft’s iconic ‘gateway’ beers, it may be lesser-known than Fat Tire or Sierra Nevada Pale Ale but is still first call for witbier once macro efforts like MillerCoors’ Blue Moon or InBev’s Hoegaarden lose their luster. White is also that uncommon stepping stone to ‘real craft’ that holds up to future scrutiny, rarely losing fans once they’ve been made. But for all its qualities White is arguably not the best of Allagash’s year-round hues.

The challenger to that title is Black, a 7.5% ABV ale brewed with a handful of different grains (barley, wheat, oats, two kinds of roasted malt) and dark candi sugar. Black won’t win any popularity contests, though. White is far and away the more common sighting on tap and available in 4-packs, besides, whereas Black’s smallest format is a 750 ml bottle. This comparative rarity may have several causes, but two stand out: one, dark ales are less popular overall; two, as a self-proclaimed ‘Belgian-style stout’, Black self-selects into an even smaller niche market. What is a Belgian-style stout? Does it really even exist? Google suggests that Allagash has a monopoly on the term prompting one to think it’s more marketing lingo than fact-based. Yet this beer is distinctively roasted and considerably darker in complexion (both in looks and taste) than virtually any traditional Belgian strong dark ale. So the description does indeed have merit—and after one taste of Black it’s a wonder more breweries haven’t caught on.

True to its name, Black has a clean nose of roasted grains, with torrified wheat being unusually prominent. It does not smell burnt despite the substantial dose of dark malts, though; instead, dark chocolate or molasses lurks deeply alongside a bit of anise or faint vanilla touch. The mouthfeel is quite crisp, reflecting the inclusion of candi sugar that lightens the midsection and gives it some licorice and jammy sweetness without leaving it hollow like a dry Irish. There’s a distinctive early sweetness, too, prominent yet hard to define—elderberry or dark red grapes, perhaps, almost a little winelike though far from that level of gravity. It makes a beguiling early statement before being washed away by assertive carbonation (high for a stout, on the lower side for a Belgian), toast, light phenol dust, and some mineral in finish. The alcohol is quite masked and overall this beer is suspiciously easy to drink. In the ongoing battle royale for retail shelf space, four-packs of Black would be equally threatening to Dragon’s Milk and Chimay Blue. And, for that matter, maybe even to White.

Served: On tap (Clementi’s, Arlington Heights)

Rating: 91

Maine Beer Company – Mean Old Tom

THE WORDS ‘VANILLA BEAN’, ‘aged’, and ‘stout’ typically have decadent associations in the beer world and are often accompanied by double-digit ABVs and garish branding. But Maine Beer Company rejects such lavishness, as evinced by their minimalist labels, understated names (Another One, Lunch, Mo), and universally sturdy mantra, “Do What’s Right.” And by their beers, of course, whose hallmark is balance.

So it is with Mean Old Tom, a 6.5% American-style stout aged on vanilla beans. Naturally quite redolent of vanilla at first, the nose also has generous notes of pumpernickel, coffee grounds, a touch of hop earthiness, and roasted grains. Its flavors continue all of these themes, albeit with an extra surge of molasses towards the finish that helps mitigate the roasted aftertaste.

With a generous mash including oat, wheat, barley, chocolate, and caramel malts, the beer has plenty of grains to substantiate its body. Yet its final gravity still only comes out to around 1.018. The vanilla’s smooth textures imply a fuller mouthfeel while the liquid’s limber presence on the palate leaves relatively few residuals. Bitterness is fairly low, carbonation is moderate throughout, alcohol is hardly a thought, and the drinking altogether is breezy. Who said Old Tom was mean?

Served: 22 oz bottled 12.10.13

Rating: 88

Allagash – Dubbel

ALLAGASH GENERALLY does very well with Belgian style ales; indeed, it’s their raison d’être and made them one of America’s more celebrated brewers. Their flagship, a Witbier simply called White, is a gateway to both European tradition and new craft brewing alike, while specialty releases like the bourbon-barrel aged tripel Curieux offer luxury to the experienced palates.

Strange, then, that their effort at a style as fundamental as abbey-style Dubbel would turn out so unremarkable. Looking the part, at least (a deep tawny brown with a robust tan head) the beer’s shortcomings become apparent from the first whiff. Instead of rich candied fruits, toffee, warming spice, and a touch of alcohol, Dubbel focuses on phenols to a fault. Certainly these yeast byproducts are appropriate to Belgian dubbels, but their notes of medicine, chlorine, and sometimes plastic are far more palatable when couched in other flavors. Either due to the strains used, low fermentation temperatures, or suchlike, this beer does not develop the sweeter bouquet, complexity of flavors, and depth on the palate for which Dubbels are rightly revered.

Still, the beer’s fundamentals are sound (as with every Allagash product), from its crisp body to uplifting carbonation and appealing color. Even a mediocre dubbel still has its charms, so judged in a vacuum this beer would probably even be quite pleasant. Yet compared to its inspiration—and Allagash’s own potential—this Dubbel is a disappointment.

Served: On tap (Clementi’s, Arlington Heights)

Rating: 84

Maine Beer Company – King Titus

THE LABEL FOR Main Brewing Company’s King Titus Porter shows a tiny picture of a large silverback gorilla. The mismatch is further emphasized by elegant pink lettering that spells out the beer’s name just above Titus’ contemplative portrait. A murky message—but then so was the life of Titus himself.

King Titus the beer is less conflicted: a dark brown American porter of 7.5% ABV with a proud dark tan head and robustly bodied around 1.018 FG. Its aromas are complex, mixing must, vanilla, fairly bitter cocoa, and roasted coffee malt along with some background floral and slightly citric hops. On the palate its carbonation is low, enhancing the creaminess of the mouthfeel (bolstered by wheat and oats, though the body isn’t especially dense) and allowing subtle notes of cherry and a bit of barrel bite to emerge towards the finish. Never harsh and with little hop bitterness to note, King Titus maintains a lovely smoothness and slight smokiness overall that goes down regally, indeed. A bit more fight out of it would have been welcome, though.

Served: 750 ml bottle

Rating: 91

Allagash – Tripel

TRADITIONAL IN FOUNDATION, American in accentuation, Allagash’s Tripel is a solid indicator of their brewery at large. Instantly recognizable as a tripel for its bountiful head, hazy golden color, 9% ABV, etc., and definitely in the prominence of yeast. No surprises there, given their pedigree in refermented ales. The twist comes through in the expression of the yeast itself (a different bottling yeast than the one used for fermenting all their ales), which is distinctively reminiscent of grapefruit and passionfruit more so than the  more common (and still present) citrus or banana. This gives the brew an almost tropical edge, which combines well with its slightly heavier than average body. Phenols fairly prominent towards the end along with some clove and spice, but the fruit zest still is the lingering impression, even after the decisive carbonation dissipation.

Served: 33 cl bottled Jan 2013

Rating: 91

Allagash – Odyssey

ANOTHER BARREL-AGED SPECIALTY BREW, but this time chocolate brown in color, wheat-oriented, and considerably heavier. The Belgian sugars are recognizable, but more pronounced are the roasted malts and sweet fruits—raisin, dates, etc.—that presage a fairly thick finish. The oak aging gives the vanilla here a more molasses kind of edge. Not precisely a dessert beer or quite so dense as a quad, though getting close. The wheat helps smooth the flavor, so even at 10.4% ABV, the 2-row barley base doesn’t cause it to become too biting. Very fine, yet at $19 it really isn’t 2.5 times the beer of, say, Trois Pistoles, for example.

Served: 750 cl bottled December 2011

Rating: 93

Allagash – Curieux

GIVEN THE HALOS that surround barrel-aged and tripel style beers, it’s a wonder that only Allagash thought (even still) to combine them in scale. The results are wondrous. A deep amber color and some bubbling head that swiftly subsides bely its aged nature. The nose of this ‘young vintage’ remains zesty, slightly medicinal, equal parts peppermint and sweet Belgian yeasts. The flavor is corresponding, but wrapped in a warm biscuit crispness uncommon in tripels. The bourbon barrels give the finish a touch of liquor’s slick warming finish. The only thing desirable would be to cellar it for a while to smooth its sweet spikes a touch, or for it to have spent less of it aging time in tanks.

Served: 750 cl bottled July 6, 2012

Rating: 95

Allagash – White

ALLAGASH’S WHITE IS THE littlest brother twice over in the Maine brewery’s year-round lineup of Belgian-inspired brews: it’s the only beer they don’t currently offer in large format bottles and also the lowest in ABV, packing only 5% instead of the nearly 9% average for the other five. Both its modest dimensions and strength do make it Allagash’s most accessible beer, but in the heady array of barrel-aged tripels (i.e. the Curiex) and other Trappist-style triumphs, the workaday White is perhaps a little overmatched.

It bears emphasizing, though, that the White remains a quality beer deserving of esteemed company, and also ranks as the best-in-class amongst America’s craft drinkers. Pouring a cloudy straw yellow (almost more like a Berliner Weiss than a lily pale Wit), the beer has a fluffy white bread kind of head and a wide but gentle array of aromas including clove, lemon, honeysuckle, tangerine, and coriander. Hops are lightly discernible alongside pale pilsner and fresh wheat grains.

Its flavors are fairly complex, invoking in turn other Wits like Blanche de Chambly, Weizens like Weihenstephaner, or even the faint must of a good Saison, but all without being too dense. Beyond these early impressions, distinctive points of lemon and orange peel presage a clean wheat core and then the mildest daub of hops, just enough to encourage another sip.

The mouthfeel, meanwhile, is made unusually round by a nearly medium body and lower carbonation than expected. Perhaps too low, in fact, allowing the finish to be a little over-characterized by dextrins before a gentle cleansing dose of soft water. And that water—however pure—might be the weak link here, seeming to lacks the zip of minerals that gives Belgian Wits their crackling, slightly acidic edge. Some alcohol tang is used as a substitute without quite doing the trick, and the end result is one box on the style outline conspicuously unchecked.

Moreover, when compared against the complex and meticulously arranged recipes that flesh out Allagash’s portfolio, the White simply seems to lag a step behind. Not to say it is lazily crafted in the least, just slightly abridged, or a coda away from completion. Thus it’s still quite tasty— just not entirely right.

Served: 12 oz bottled May 2, 2012

Rating: 90