Hot Damn of the Week: Phillips Double Barrel Scotch Ale

'Twas with slavering visage and drooly appearance that I bounded into the Quadra location of @CascadiaLiq yesterday afternoon. Why so? Well, lads and lassies, I'd just been informed through the interwebby application known as "twitter" that a new Phillips seasonal firearm had just been released: t' double barrel.

Something I really love about Phillips is how often they put out their seasonals. Don't love the current crop of bombers? Just wait five minutes. It's exactly like Victoria's fast-forward bi-polar weather systems.

This brew was one I was eagerly a-waitin' to cycle through again. It's a Scotch Ale that's been barrelled twice, first in bourbon barrels out of the Jack Daniels distillery and then in red wine barrels (merlot and cab-sav). The result is delicious oaky overtones added to the sweet malt-bomb.

Take this as a compliment Phillips brewers, but if I were blind taste-testing this, I'd instantly know it was a Phillips product. It tastes the way the air outside their Government Street brewery smells. Which is a good thing.

The interesting thing here is how little oak there is in the nose: it's all a big wallop that smacks you in the palate on first sip. Big, cream-soda and caramel malts blend nicely with the woodiness and hide the slightly higher alcohol content.

Worth tracking down and sharing with a friend. Or you could poison it and give it to your mortal enemy. Ian.

Battle Royale No 6: You Musn't Call a Ginger "Ginger" Unless You're Ginger

Last night found me attending a rather ill-advised bocconcini-off.

What is a bocconcini-off, you ask (and well you may)? Well, apart from the obvious answer -a blind taste-test to determine which brand of bocconcini is best- a bocconcini-off is mostly a Really Bad Idea. I consumed so much squishy white cheese that, despite the fact that I am normally 100% lactose tolerant, my lower intestine rapidly turned into a some sort of noisy, anti-cheese Nuremburg Rally. I think my duodenum grew a little toothbrush moustache.

But then it occurred to me (in-between bouts of explosive flatus not dissimilar to the cannonfire of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture) that I had it coming for assaying cheese and not doing my real job: I've been very lax in the beer-judging department. In between fiddling about with ridiculous sandwiches and forging letters from the Craft Brewers of BC to fool hair-band enthusiasts, I've not bothered to put a Battle Royale together for a month. For shame.

As such, various other blogs (I'm looking at you, Dave) have surged in to take advantage with three-way battles, sneers at Alexander Keith, and crappy MS-Paint illustrations. Hey! You ain't heard? I'm the damn Mayor McCheese of crappy MS-Paint-town, so all you Fry-guys can take a seat.

It's about to get all ginger up in this bitch.

Actually, I mean that quite literally: this time, ginger-laced beers go head to head.

Now, "ginger" is a word that might have many negative connotations for some. After all, and thanks to Trey Parker and Matt Stone for pointing this out, we have no souls. Also, we tend to catch fire in direct sunlight, so some might think being ginger is a bit like being a vampire.

It's not. Vampires are pansies.

Vampires own fey little Volvo hatchbacks and wear eyeliner and drive around chasing after bony, hatchet-faced little emo-girls who are actually lusting after shirtless, back-waxing werewolves anyway. Ginger people do things like slide face-first down a bobsleigh track on about 2/3rds of a toboggan, win a gold medal and then drink an entire pitcher of beer. Also, we tend to be vikings. Put that in your cape and smoke it.

So ginger beer has a lot to live up to. It can't be some lame, pink-colored, semi-gingery light beer like the kind that would be made with the shavings accompanying mediocre sushi. No, it should be fiery and intense and have little pigtails like Pippi Longstocking.

Okay, not that last part, but it better be more Reed's than Canada Dry, and it should bring the heat in a way that would make Gimli sputter and drop his axe on his foot.

Phillips Ginger Ale vs. Hitachino Nest Real Ginger Beer

Round 1: Fight!

At first pour, foreshadowing indicates that this won't be a contest of equals. The Phillips offering might be one shade darker than their Phoenix Lager, but it pales next to the murky, reddish turbidity of the Hitachino Nest. Based purely on colour, the Japanese Real Ginger Ale should have more root.

...But it doesn't. Not even close. As expected, there's a fuller malt character in the Hitachino Nest but as for ginger, well, it's scarcer than thrilling speeches in a Canadian Election. The Phillips, on the other hand, has more ginger than a Canadian Election has long boring speeches. I think that metaphor worked out rather nicely.

It might not be everyone's brew-addling agent of choice, but the ginger in the Phillips brings a nice added heat to the finish, and of course colours the nose immensely. The Hitachino Nest is extremely reserved by comparison.

Round 2: Fight!

The food pairing for ginger beer is pretty damn obvious: sushi. Where to get good sushi on Vancouver Island is another issue. If you're in Vancouver, reach down and pick up a rock. Good, now close your eyes, spin around three times and throw it as hard as you can. Hear that outraged scream? That's a world-class sushi chef you just provided with a broken nose.

In Victoria, it's not quite so easy. You can actually get pretty reasonable sushi at Thrifty's, but a lot of the other take out places are a bit more expensive. Our favourite is Fujiya, a full-on authentic Japanese food-store.

You'd think Japanese snack food would swing the pendulum towards Hitachino Nest's offering, but the spicy tuna roll and Phillip's Ginger Beer waltz together like Godzilla vs. Mothra: the sex-tape. Wait, that's gross.

What I mean to say is that the Phillips actually seems better suited for pairing with the sushi, given the fact that it actually smells and tastes of ginger. No need for round 3.

Result!

Phillips takes the win for the home-town team!

Post-Battle Review:

Like Tim Minchin says, "You mustn't call a ginger 'ginger' unless you're ginger." In that case, is the Hitachino nest really qualified to go flinging the epithet around? Barely. It certainly carries a fuller, maltier body, but if you're on the hunt for something with a little more punch, try Phillip's version instead.

Phillips Ginger Beer
Recommended if:
-you're already a Phillips fan
-you're looking for a nice pairing with some nigiri sushi
-you're Gilligan

Not Recommended if:
-you're a pasty little vampire with a silly haircut
-you can't handle a beer with a little heat
-you're Eric Cartman

Hitachino Nest Real Ginger Ale
Recommended if:
-you're an out-and-out Japanophile
-you're looking for a bit less bite and a bit more malt
-you're an owl

Not recommended if:
-you're looking for the gingeriest of the ginger beers
-you need a bigger bottle
-your head is the same shape as the guy on the label. Because then you should go see a doctor. Like right now.

10 Reasons Victoria is a Kick-Ass Beer Town: #6 Phillips Brewing

Note: This is the start of a new series on YADBB, listing the best beery things about the place I live. It's not in any order, which is why I'm starting at #6 with Phillips. Doing things out of order like this virtually ensures that I'm going to get muddled and end up with two #3 spots. So be it.

Today is the third week since I started this blog, and we're sitting at 1500 pageviews. Not bad! Pass the link around, as always. I'm also happy to announce that a version of these meandering and beer-soaked writings will soon be appearing in the North Shore News periodically, right up until they start getting too many letters of complaint. Which shouldn't take too long.

But enough self-congratulatory fiddle-faddle, let's talk beer.


Possibly the greatest thing that happened as a result of my wife Katie and I moving from Vancouver to Victoria is that we increased our proximity to Phillips brewing. Not that we couldn't find their excellent beers in the big Smoke; in fact, I fondly remember the days when you could still get Phoenix Lager in stubbies and the cases were stamped "Imported From Esquimalt".

But now, the Phillips brewery is a scant 10 minutes away, and we can pop in and have a 2L growler filled with fresh-drawn, draft-style beer for all of ten bucks. Bargain.

So, thinking to celebrate the steady flow of traffic to YADBB (what, are you people all brain-damaged or something? Oh, that's right, you're probably all just drunk) I selected and rinsed a likely pair out of our growler collection, chucked 'em in the Soob and booted it.

Empty growlers. Sad panda. Yes, that is a growler cozy. What, you don't have one? *tsk*

Matt Phillips is basically the Kevin Smith of brewing. Both couldn't get financing to follow their dreams, so both maxed-out credit cards and cut corners to create masterworks. Matt slept in his brewery and made deliveries in an old Subaru, and to be honest I don't see what all the fuss is about because I'd be perfectly happy to sleep in a brewery and I drive an old Subaru now, and it's not in any pursuit of some damn dream.

Anyway, thus was born Clerks and the original Phillips beer lineup including Phoenix and some other ones which I'm too lazy to look up right now. However, then Kevin Smith went on to make Jersey Girl, and up until Phillips releases a Hobo-Urine seasonal, I'm going to say their careers have diverged somewhat.

Roll into the parking lot at the Government Street brewery, and your nostrils are immediately tantalized by the smell of the mash tuns. It's twice as good as the smell of baking bread, and quite frankly, I'm not sure why real-estate agents don't set up homebrew equipment when they're having an open-house.

Step in the door and again you'll find something special. The front retail part of the brewery is set up as a kind of art studio, and functions from time to time as a space where you can rub elbows with artists and brewers and beery guys like me. They're launching some new beers tomorrow, don't miss it.

You'll also notice a coupla taps and a chalkboard showing what's growling today. Talk to Bill, a guy who's as nice as he is hirsute (which is a lot, fyi), and he'll be happy to fill yer bucket with some of Victoria's finest suds.



I picked myself out a Hop-Circle and a coffee stout for those late night deadlines, and bumped into Deebs, the brewer. He was absconding with an interesting-looking 12-pack, and when I checked the fridge, I found even more booty.

Check out this haul:
What noise? Oh, that's just my liver, screaming. Quiet, you!

Any road, for a hop-head like me, this beery cornucopia was akin to checking your phone and unexpectedly getting naked texts from Jessica Alba. Or from Brett Farve, if you're into elderly micro-peen. Either way, score!

Here's the bombers, a triumvirate of Hoppy Tripel, Malty Imperial Red and Ginger Beer (the replacement for Gentleman Jim):
But what about the contents of that inscrutable cube? Not since the Borg has a square object been more filled with dangerous mystery....

What a lineup! It's the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition for hops. We've got the ever-popular Hop-circle and Skookum, the fresh hop ale Grow-Hop (which Deeb says will be rotating with whatever is the current seasonal hop, so centennial right now) and the "guest" beer, a rye IPA called Krypton, which I'm currently drinking. It's as tasty as Lex Luthor is villainous (not the lame Gene Hackman version). My house now has more hops than a Texan rabbit sanctuary.

So let me just recap: local, fresh beer readily available and basically the same price as the corporation's swill; a strong community presence and sponsorship of local events; friendly, hairy staff; a dedication to brewing great beer; and last but not least, a plethora of seasonals, experimental beers and a general willingness to try new things. Plus, they like My Little Pony.

Phillips, we salute thee. Bottoms up!

Battle Royale No. 3: The Glass Jaw Joe Edition

Phillips Hop Circle IPA vs. Alexander Keith's IPA

Round One: Fight!

Last post, some folks thought I was being a little hard on poor ol' Alexander Keith's IPA. Let's be clear: the real Alexander Keith had a beard like a rhododendron bush and looks like he ate lightly boiled babies at breakfast. Comparing his Masonic magnificence to the current Labatt-run accountant-brewing is one way to highlight the insipidity of Keith's "IPA". I've got another.

But hang on: when I twittered about this upcoming battle, the responses from the beer-swilling cognoscenti were universal in their confusion. "Is that even a competition?" one asked. Another compared it to a "viscous (sic) lion taking on a timid mouse." Wasn't this B.R. going to be as one-sided as Mike Tyson fighting a man composed entirely of ears?

Oily felines notwithstanding, we're talking here about a huge, multi-nationally owned brand that sells thousands of hecta-liters of beer and has essentially limitless resources and funding, going up against a beer brewed by a guy who started in the business by maxing out his credit cards and making deliveries in a crap-can Subaru GL. You're damn right it's unfair.

Still, we've got to handicap David so that Goliath doesn't get the bejesus kicked out of him in the first round. As such, I'm tying one hand behind Hop Circle's back by drinking both beers right out of the bottle. I regard myself as against the winification of beer and deplore aping the oneophiles with their snorting and snuffling into their glasses like a pig after a truffle, but beer tastes better when you can smell it while you're tasting it.

I'm also going to attempt to remove Phillip's home court advantage by creating a sort of East Coast ambiance through the use of selected props. Having thought about it for a while, I planned on using a Sou'wester, a cod, a bottle of screech rum, and a Rita McNeil CD.

Unfortunately, by the time I got home today I didn't have the opportunity to get any of those things. Therefore, I reached in the freezer and pulled out a trout I caught myself (which is why it's so pathetically small), created a sou'wester by sticking yellow Post-Its to a baseball hat, and "found" an authentic Rita McNeil CD. For some bizarre reason, we had the Screech already.


All right, down the hatch!


Y'know, it's not terrible. There's an old joke that goes: "Nothing is better than Budweiser. Given the choice, I'd take nothing." That's not the case here. On first taste, the Keith's is almost like a real beer. Now the Hop Circle.

Oh. Oh wow. Okay, so what happened there in my commentary on the Keith's is that I had a problem with my brain being missing. Keith's is not beer. This is beer.

In comparison to the robust (resisted a temporary urge to say "out-of-this-world") flavour of the Hop Circle, Keith's IPA is an IPA the same way that Chinese air-to-air missile footage is real. Real IPAs are exploding with hops. Keith's has less hops than a squashed grasshopper. Less hops than a kangaroo with polio.

Less hops than a white basketball player.

Round Two: Fight?

What's the point?

Look at this man here:
This be-joweled chap is an East India Company Officer: the fat bastards that IPAs were originally brewed for. Does he look like he'd be satisfied with a watery yellow imitation? No, he Does Not. Try sending these guys Keith's IPA in the 1800s, and their reaction would make the slaughter of the Sepoy Mutiny look like high tea at the Empress.

On the other hand, if you Fedexed them a coupla six-packs of Hop Circle, I think we could all breathe easy. Just like the historical IPAs, Phillips has created something packing a far more intense experience than your everyday beer. If you think the six-packs are good, just try growling it sometime!



Result!

Anybody want a Keith's 5-and-a-half-pack?

Post-Battle Review

No surprises here, but Keith's IPA got hammered like a myopic carpenter's thumb. What a bloodbath: even with the extras it wasn't close.

Just so you know, I bought both sixers at Liquor Plus between Douglas and Blanshard: and the Hop Circle cost me all of fifty cents more. For my small investment, I got a real beer, and let me just say that the beauty of living in Canada, with all its back-asswards semi-repealed prohibition nonsense, is that you can buy a craft beer, brewed by people who are striving to produce the very best thing they can, and it's going to cost you pennies more than the heartless, soulless, greedy, conniving, cut-throat, incompetently-produced corporate swill.

Phillips Hop Circle IPA
Recommended if:
-you like a hoppy west-coast IPA (who doesn't?)
-you're going to see this movie
-you want something one step lighter than Red Racer's IPA

Not Recommended if:
-you've been probed
-you don't like hoppy beers
-you own a REAL sou'wester

Alexander Keith's IPA
Recommended if:
-there's a fire and you need to pour something on it
-that's pretty much it

Not recommended if:
-you own a working tastebud
-you understand that IPA doesn't mean International Police Association
-Zima is also available

Battle Royale No. 1

note: from time to time, and I can't be any more specific than that, my liver will become a battleground where two brews will go toe-to-toe to see who will be crowned the victor. It will be just like MMA for beer, except without the implied homoeroticism. Two beers enter, one beer leaves. (Actually, strictly speaking, both beers leave, after processing.)


Phillips "Hammer" Barrel Aged Imperial Stout vs Driftwood "Singularity" Russian Imperial Stout

Round One: Fight!

There are stouts, and then there are Imperial stouts, and like most things, the Imperial means "better". Imperial pints? Better than regular pints. The Chrysler Imperial? Better than a K-Car. The Empire Strikes Back? The defense rests.

What we have here are two Imperial stouts in the Russian style, both barrel-aged, and both as serious as an aneurysm. Which I'm probably going to have by trying to drink both. Phillips have barrel-aged their already-excellent Hammer Imperial stout, a personal favourite, but they're going up against Driftwood's Singularity, a hugely intense beer from a company that's grown aggressively over the last two years, and has my go-to IPA in their lineup with Fat Tug. Ah, yes, I really do enjoy a good Tug.

What?

Anyway I have paired these two heavyweights with a nice nigiri sushi. This is not a recommended pairing, I just happened to have it, and this exercise is not for empty stomachs.
Both pour insanely dark, making the soy sauce seem about as black as some insipid herbal tea.


The Hammer is smoother and more balanced than its non-barrelled version. Still packs a wallop though. Now the Singularity...

Ye Gods! I can see time! Just how strong is this stuff?


8.5% and 11.8% respectively, but that's not the whole story. The Hammer seems almost quaffable now after the insane intensity of the Singularity. To compare it to the well-known density of Guinness, the Singularity is like blackstrap molasses next to a teaspoon of sugar dissolved in a large quantity of water. Like the Pacific.

Round One to the Singularity.

Round Two: Fight!

I seem to have lost the ability to use chopsticks. Makes sense, as a significant portion of my medulla oblongata has dissolved.

The Singularity could not be more aptly-named. It's like drinking neutrino star with a hint of bourbon. By comparison, the Hammer seems as mellow as a smooth jazz bassline.

Round two to the Singularity.

Round Three: Fight!

...

Result!

Singularity wins by K.O.! Of me.

Post-Battle Review

For fans of Phillips, the new barrel-aged version of their excellent Imperial stout is a must-try. It's mellow but complicated, and is a great slow sipper.

However, for sheer complexity, Driftwood's Singularity is as dense as sub-atomic string theory, and I have to award it the prize for being the top quark. It's simply a huge beer, trying to drink a whole one by yourself is something only an idiot would do. An idiot like me.

Phillips Hammer Barrel Aged Imperial Stout
Recommended if:
-you own parachute pants
-you're a closet-communist
-you wanted a bit more complexity added to the regular Hammer

Not Recommended if:
-you're questing for the ultimate imperial stout
-you're a whiny little pipsqueak who throws himself down airshafts just because his dad cuts off his hand
-you think Molson Canadian has flavour

Driftwood Singularity Imperial Russian Stout
Recommended if:
-you need to tear a hole in the space-time continuum
-you really hate your brain/liver
-you want an intense taste experience

Not recommended if:
-you can't spell "continuum"
-you have feeble tastebuds
-you don't have any friends to share it with