Hey everyone, welcome back to another Brew Man Group. We trust everyone has recovered from those dreaded midterms and the consequent hangover train (drinking during a hangover, to inevitably end with an even greater hangover later). For ourselves, we’re fresh off our tenth issue (Booyah!), so perhaps it’s time to turn it down a notch and placidly settle ourselves into “pale lager purgatory”… Bullshit! As always, Dan and Neil bring the best and most unique of beers to your doorstep, and by ‘doorstep’, we mean the back row of your morning lecture. Given the plethora of styles at our disposal, we will once again be covering something new. Our focus this time around will be the ancient, albeit still very delicious bock style. However, since we’re not Coors-drinking sissies we will take it a step further and review the stronger variants with the surnames of “Doppel” and “Eis”.
Neil: Bock, a variety of lager, has a long history and has consequently evolved over time. Originally, the first bocks were brewed in the estate of Einbeck (Germany) as far back as the 1300’s. This brew used one third wheat to every two thirds barley malt with strong hopping, consequently producing a wholesome and delicious product. It was so highly regarded that exports were in demand as far away as Egypt! However through a series of unfortunate events, the town of Einbeck and its brews were destined to die out within two centuries. Continuing in the 1500’s, brewers in Munich (That’s right, friggin’ Munich!) copied the style to much lesser effect. Brewers added only barley malt, less bittering hops, and brewed with water possessing far different characteristics. The result, a much more tame version of its predecessor, is what we find sitting on LCBO shelves and inside your distant German relative’s fridge. We can expect the aroma and flavour dominated by toasted malt, with perhaps a hint of noble hops (added for scent only), toffee, caramel, and maybe some chocolate. Moderate alcohol levels and darker appearance complete this style.
Dan: That accounts for bocks, but what of Doppelbocks and Eisbocks? In brief, Doppelbocks were actually produced in parallel to bocks by the monks of St. Francis in about 1634. The first Doppelbock, Salvator, was actually served as “liquid bread” since the monks were forbidden solid food. (Sounds like part of a well-balanced breakfast.) It wasn’t until the 18th century that Salvator was exported to the public, who promptly made a connection that this was but a stronger style of bock, thus naming it the Doppelbock (doublebock). Heavier body, darker appearance, diverse flavour palate, and (perhaps) most importantly, higher alcohol content.
In turn, Eisbocks were first produced purely by accident. Picture a particularly cold winter evening in Germany with some sober residents eagerly awaiting their next shipment of Aventinus Weizenbock, an 8% beer that combines the spicy flavours of a hefeweizen with the sweet maltiness of a Doppelbock. Reportedly, on this particular night, it was so cold that the beer partially froze. Apply your first year chemistry (even Neil can figure this one out) to realize that water freezes before alcohol, and there we find the lucky recipients of this shipment skimming off the surface ice to reveal a fortified beer with extremely heavy body and increased alcoholic strength. Later, this beer was reproduced and spread worldwide under the name of Eisbock. The former world’s strongest beer, the 40% Schorschbrau Schorsbock, falls under this style (though the new title, which was only won last week, goes to a 41% BrewDog IPA that uses the same freezing technique to achieve such high levels of alcohol).
Neil’s thoughts: Getting my hands on the import brew Samichlaus from Brewery Schloss Eggenberg had its price; about 14 bucks at my local craft brew bar. Interestingly enough, this beer was imported indirectly through the States, and is thus labelled as a “malt liquor” since they can’t possibly classify 14% ABV as a beer… I declare their import authorities both uneducated and sallies! Nonetheless, I began my tasting… The colour, my god the colour, emerged as a scandalous garnet hue. Swirled around the glass, this sticky beer laces like a champ, hanging lazily on the side walls. The nose reveals a strong bock profile, almost no hops to be found. Instead, I detected a strong indication of molasses, and a light sourness of fermented fruit. On taste, pretty much the same aromas on the nose present themselves on the tongue; dark Munich malt and sticky molasses taken to the extreme levels. Remarkably, only a slight warming is felt on the way down despite the 14% ABV, consequently making me heavy lidded (and totally shittered) after my previous pints… Final opinion: the thick, powerful malt taste can be compared to grindcore music; complex, intense, and memorable (metal \w/ FTW), however simply overwhelms the senses in large proportion. Much can be said of Samischlaus. Enjoy it for half a beer but share with a friend for best enjoyment and safety. [4/5]
Recommended for consumption. Just do it at the beginning of a session, or risk incurring drunken debauchery and finally blacking out.
Dan: Sadly Neil has beat me in strength for this round; the Aventinus Eisbock reigns in at a mere 12% ABV. It pours a ruby-tinged dark brown, topped with a persistent white head that releases some clove and banana aromas, mixed in with chocolate and caramel malts and a tiny bit of alcohol. Smells pretty much like the regular Aventinus. Here’s what runs through my head now as I take my first sips: Holy carbonation! This has got a great lively mouthfeel and full body; gettin’ set for flavour time. Holy malts! Those are some sweet chocolate/caramel malts rounded out with a delicious spicy yeast profile. But then … holy alcohol. I can deal with high-alcohol beers (I ain’t no pussy, brah), but this is just a bit too much. That’s not to say the beer becomes unpleasant; most of the flavours are great and I am enjoying sipping on this. However, given how incredibly delicious the regular Aventinus is, this particular Eisbock’s accidental inception should have perhaps been left in 1930s rural Germany. To be fair, the sample I’m trying is a young new one from the LCBO, so I will toss a few in my basement as it would likely mellow out over a year or two.[3/5]
(Unenthusiastically) recommended for consumption. More importantly, try: regular Aventinus Weizenbock. Amazing flavour and doesn’t taste like you chased your beer with a shot of vodka.
Props to hops // Dan and Neil
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