Define the word “Devotion.”

Wait–no, stop, I’ll do it for you.

Devotion = desiring a glass specifically shaped and decorated for one type of beer so much that you’re willing to pay more for it in shipping and handling than the actual cost of the merchandise.

Note – this could also be the definition for “moron,” but that is beside the point.

 Yes, after a long hiatus, I have returned to post on another grand slam from the respected Quebecois artisans at Unibroue http://www.unibroue.com.  Long ago (mm, summer of ’98 I think), on a journey to the fabled northland–specifically Quebec City (mundane name… great town) with the family, I first tasted the sweet, intoxicating nectar of Maudite.  At the time, this beer–whose name literally translates to “Damned”–attracted my underage interest due to its 8% ABV… and the fact that it had a friggin devil on its label!!!  Now, I’ll admit that 8% ABV no longer floors me, having climbed my way up the Westmalle, Rochefort and Ayinger ladders (and then of course fallen back to earth, my head blunking like a xylophone off the rungs), to name a few.  But I still think the label kicks the ass.  Plus, let’s be honest… once you get above the 6-7% ABV range, you’re playing with fire–with regard both to risking too much “alcohol-taste” in the beer (which still reads funny even though I know what I’m trying to say) as well as an ”accidental drunk night.”

The name “Maudite” derives from a French-Canadian legend about eight lumberjacks who made a deal with the devil to enable them to get home for Christmas. Said devil hooked them up with a flying canoe, which worked splendidly until one of the lumberjacks–we’ll call him “Dicky”–decided he’d had too much for his weak-sauce pious conscience to handle. So he invoked the name of God, which caused the flying canoe to take a Louganis out of the sky, wherupon our intrepid lumberjacks were never heard from again. Nice work, Dicky. We sell our souls to the devil to get home and you blow it for us. Now we get to spend an eternity in hell with no presents, no jingle bells, no figgy pudding.

So apparently Unibroue felt they needed to offset this ridiculous legend by crafting a ridiculously-good beer, and they most certainly pulled it off. The chalice pictured above is shaped in such a way as to allow the beer’s head to develop fully, releasing all of the rich aromas, which then funnel nicely up the curve to the lip, instead of dissipating. You still can drink it out of any glass, I suppose, but in general you want to shoot for something similar to this–I would even choose a nice big wine glass versus your standard pint.

The beer pours out with a rich, dark walnut hue, opaque but not thick. Poured correctly, the head should grow to about an inch of average-sized bubbles, which will release an aroma predominated by malt and yeast, but with a hint of spices… perhaps clove, with a bit of orange. Like someone (maybe… a damned quebecois lumberjack??) squeezed one of those holiday clove-studded oranges into the brew.

The body of the head dissipates rather quickly, but it leaves a thin coating of foam on the surface, which protects the flavor nicely. The overall taste is malty, caramel, slightly hoppy, but it’s in the subtleties that Maudite really delivers. If you take the time to swirl a sip around and let it breathe, you’ll detect hints of brandy, lemon, walnuts, that clove-orange thing… I mean, there’s seriously a lot going on here. The mouthfeel is heavy but not too heavy, and the aftertase lingers with a mildly hoppy sour/bitter finish.

I don’t expect everyone to rush out and buy a Maudite chalice. But go track down one of these (you can find it in both 330mL and 750mL bottles) and give it a ride. You won’t be disappointed. But if you ever decide to make a deal with the devil to get home, slap a muzzle on Dicky, for crying out loud.