Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Beer 94: Brasserie Grain d’Orge Belzebuth or I Ramble When Tired Even When Writing
When I say blond ale, do you think 13% ABV? Nope. Neither do I. And yet that’s what I find myself drinking after a long afternoon of overeating and too much wine.
Sidebar: Next time I complain about my job, remind me that I spent three hours eating and drinking today. And got paid to do it. And it was GOOD.
So here I sit out on the deck. T-shirt, bare feet and one helluva beer. It’s March 13 for god’s sake. I realize it’s not politically correct, but I LOVE GLOBAL WARMING if this is global warming.
Brasserie Grain d’Orge promotes the Belzebuth as the most unique ale in the world on the bottle. On their website, it’s billed as the strongest beer in the world. LIARS. I just saw an announcement about something coming in at 17% ABV but who am I to quibble. OK. I love to quibble. But that’s an entirely different post.
It pours a nice copper color into my Miller Lite pint glass. Oh yeah…this glass is so old the colors are starting to fade. In a household that loves to break glasses (I’m looking at you, Gary), I’m surprised this one has made it to the fading ink stage.
Belzebuth is quite bubbly and had a small whitish head. For being a big, bad ass beer, the flavors were very even. Good balance of malt and hops. There was definite grainy sweetness. The alcohol gets you in the nose as you swallow…akin to sipping on good bourbon. The carbonation isn’t overpowering, just nice and refreshing. Is it the best in the world? That is a subjective question. Do I like it? Why, yes, I do.
p.s. The bottle is less than 9 oz.
p.p.s. Go outside immediately and enjoy the close approach of Venus and Jupiter. Despite being gazillions (a highly technical and utterly scientific measurement) of miles apart, they appear to be sitting an easy commute apart in the west-southwest sky. Venus is notably brighter. Bam. Knowledge dropped.
p.p.p.s. The highlight of my evening commute: Blaring Jay-Z. Windows down. Sunroof open. Possibly being a spectacle in the Mini. I look over to my left and the most classic example of Main Line lady is sitting in the passenger seat of a Mercedes with her window down. I wish I had a photo of the disdainful face she made it me. I may or may not have giggled delightedly. She rolled up her window.