My first beer of the night comes to us from Lagunitas Brewing Co. in Sonoma County, CA. At first glance, setting up a brewery in the middle of wine country seems a bit like placing a tanning salon in an albino leper colony. But even surrounded by legions of grape-fondling juice jockeys, Lagunitas has managed to craft a very solid IPA in the Maximus.

My slow pour resulted in a very attractive reddish blond body, with a modestly fluffy head. Carbonation is on the low side, as expected for an IPA of this type. The aroma was a pleasant citrus and toffee mixture

Clocking in at a high-octane 7.5% ABV packed into the now-fashionable 22oz bottle, I expected all the subtlety of a swift ski boot kick to the junk. The first sip, however, was much more like cup-and-cough from that attractive 40-something female doctor, brisk and sharp at first, but with a warm and embarrassingly pleasant. The aftertaste was nutty, and a bit on the sweet side. Perhaps a bit too sweet to be a regular staple, but your tastes may vary.

All in all, the Lagunitas Maximus IPA is a highly enjoyable beer. Do yourself a favor and pick up a few, if you live within their distribution.

Today’s hearty brew hales from the barrels of North Coast Brewing Company, located in Fort Bragg, California. Brother Thelonious is an abbey-style dark ale, brewed in the same yeasty tradition as practiced by centuries of our blue-balled Belgian brethren.

The Bottle:

This rich, mahogany colored ale comes in a 750ml vessel stamped with the visage of Thelonious Monk himself, the brilliant and inventive mid-century jazz pianist. A cowl-clad Thelonious appears on the label holding a chalice of his namesake brew, and a Shakespeare-esque skull lies perched on his lap. No ham-fisted Hamlet, Monk was responsible for pushing the boundaries of improv piano from the 40′s through the early 70′s, with such alcohol-fueled ditties as “Straight, No Chaser”

I’m not sure how his estate came to be associated with the folks at North Coast, but doubtless Thelonious himself would give this fine namesake brew an 88 key salute.

The Pour:

I really should purchase a goblet or two suitable for Belgian-style brews, but I was forced to use a generic pint glass for this review. The pour is a rich and fragrant, a yeasty dunklebraun, with a firm, tan head. The fragrance is pure Belgian ale, with ample hints of added spice.

The Beer:

As stated on the bottle, Brother Thelonius clocks in at an ample 9.4% ABV, and 32 IBU’s of bitterness. The first sip is pure heaven; this is by far the best belgian style ale I’ve tasted from beyond the hallowed horizons of the old continent. Like a gingered toffee, you can almost chew on this beer, althought the finish lacks some of the complex hints that the famous Trappiste appellations offer. It goes down smooth and hearty, and anyone living in northen climes should pack away several bottles for the cool fall months.

The Verdict:

A definite buy, and the finest Belgian-style U.S. craft brew I’ve ever tasted.

-Major Microbrew

My second beer of the evening is a juggernaut, a legend amongst the beer-swillers of the world: Chimay Blue Grande Reserve. It all started in 1862, when a cadre of Trappist monks decided that they could not subsist on prayers and self-flagellation alone. The intrepid Belgians took to brewing, and traded in cries of “Alms for the poor” for “It’ll get Ye DRUNK!”

For these past 145 years, these monks clearly poured their souls and pent-up sexual frustration into their work. The Chimay Blue Grande Reserve represents the ultimate expression of the monk’s feverish wet dreams, and the result is a yeast-infused freight train of a beer.

Yeoman, be careful with the initial pour. Unlike the monks themselves, your trusty bierstein will receive copious and glorious amounts of head. Even a typically gentle pour will result in half a glass of spongy man-foam. Fortunate, any such porous pour will leave the drinker tasting hints of a rich and complex yeasty brew, not the typical watered-down flaccid fountain from a typical and tired domestic beer. The hues are all rich chocolate and black velvet, topped with a snowy, Alpine crown.

The taste itself deserve nothing less that fanatical religious exultation, delivering a bold finish, yet remarkable refinement compared to the Chimay Red appellation. In summary, if you’ve never experience the joys of a Belgian Abbey Ale, pick up 750ml of Chimay Blue, and rejoice in the fact that generations of monks swore off wealth, wenching, and whacking-off to deliver you one of the finest beers on the planet.

-Major Microbrew

My first beer of the night comes to us from Lagunitas Brewing Co. in Sonoma County, CA. At first glance, setting up a brewery in the middle of wine country seems a bit like placing a tanning salon in an albino leper colony. But even surrounded by legions of grape-fondling juice jockeys, Lagunitas has managed to craft a very solid IPA in the Maximus.

My slow pour resulted in a very attractive reddish blond body, with a modestly fluffy head. Carbonation is on the low side, as expected for an IPA of this type. The aroma was a pleasant citrus and toffee mixture

Clocking in at a high-octane 7.5% ABV packed into the now-fashionable 22oz bottle, I expected all the subtlety of a swift ski boot kick to the junk. The first sip, however, was much more like cup-and-cough from that attractive 40-something female doctor, brisk and sharp at first, but with a warm and embarrassingly pleasant finish. The aftertaste was nutty, and a bit on the sweet side. Perhaps a bit too sweet to be a regular staple, but your tastes may vary.

All in all, the Lagunitas Maximus IPA is a highly enjoyable beer. Do yourself a favor and pick up a few, if you live within their distribution.