Eight Degrees The Oak King

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2017 | ABV: 6.5% | On The Beer Nut: December 2017

Around this time every year the Eight Degrees press parcel would arrive: a box of bottles, cans and merch involving whatever special winter seasonal they had on the go at the time. I couldn't tell you if this bottle of their 2017 Brettanomyces-fermented barrel-aged pale ale came in one of those. I loved it on its release so it's entirely possible that I bought it. I notice from my notes at the time that the complexity of the bottled version outstripped that of the draught one. So how would it be after five years of maturation?

It looks pretty much the same as fresh: clear and coppery. It seems like nobody makes beer that looks like this any more. The wine barrel is still apparent in the aroma; the soft white grape sitting next to a promise of spicy Brett fireworks. That's not what materialises on tasting, however. The main feature is a rather dull and earthy farmyard funk, dusted with old-lady perfume of lavender and lilac. It's fine, but it's not what I thought five years of deathless Brett maturation would bring.

I guess what's happened is the same thing that happens to Orval: it dries out as the Brett keeps chomping. The result is subtle, but very much lacks the fun, fresh and fruity characteristics of the original. Your mileage may vary, but aged isn't how I best enjoy beers like this, given a preference.

BrewDog Jet Black Heart

Origin: UK | Date: 2017 | ABV: 4.7% | On The Beer Nut: April 2016

In 2017 I was lucky enough to win a prize in BrewDog's short-lived Beer Geek Awards. It included a box of beers which had some good stuff in it, but otherwise seemed to be assembled hastily from whatever was to hand in the office. Among them was today's beer, Jet Black Heart. BrewDog wasn't doing much in cans yet and this one is marked "Nitro Test D" on the bottom, becoming the first canned beer to go into the stash.

The nitro testing went well because, following the instruction to invert the can and pour hard, I got a lasting whipped-cream head on the stout. There's a little bit of staleness or oxidation in the aroma which isn't ideal for a sweet milk stout. The flavour is spot on, though: the chocolate and vanilla tasting as fresh as the day it was canned. There's a little hop bittering in the finish as well. I don't remember exactly how Jet Black Heart is supposed to taste but I'd be surprised if this isn't it.

I have a feeling that I'll get less value out of this blog as it makes the inevitable switch to canned beers. The evidence so far is that canning does too good a job of preserving a beer exactly as it was. Maybe I just need to leave them longer. We'll see.

Bosteels Pauwel Kwak

Origin: Belgium | Date: 2017 | ABV: 8.4% | On The Beer Nut: May 2007

We were transiting through Brussels airport, Dr John and I. At the emporium of boozy delights he acquired a Kwak giftpack for a friend who, he assured me, was only interested in the glass. So the beer was spare and he gave me two of them. One was cheekily necked in the departures area, but I saved the other for future use on my vintage beer blog. That was five years ago, which I deem long enough to find out if Kwak changes any over time. As a strong and dark Belgian ale, it feels like it should, though it doesn't get the vintage treatment in the same way the Trappists do.

It probably doesn't help things that I haven't had any Kwak since that evening in the airport but I have a reasonably strong impression of how it tastes: a big and heavy sweet-banana driven ale, especially high in esters, even for Belgium.

After five years, the first thing I notice is that the lees have settled in big lumps to the bottom of the bottle, suggesting it's been busy in there and should therefore be somewhat protected from oxidation. The aroma is muddy and bready, smelling like kvass, more than anything. Certainly not sweet. And the flavour has dried out considerably, dropping the banoffee in favour of raisins, nuts and dark sherry, with a backing of strong tea and a little toffee liqueur.

I think it's an improvement on fresh, and isn't a million miles from what happens to Orval over a similar timeframe. I never would have thought of ageing Kwak had I not acquired a spare bottle by sheer happenstance, but I'm glad I did.

Porterhouse Celebration Stout

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2006 | ABV: 10% | On The Beer Nut: October 2006

It's been another five years since this guy last appeared on this blog. I wanted to see how Ireland's seemingly indestructible first imperial stout of the craft era was getting on.

The brewery's branding has moved along so the glass is different but the beer still looked the same: a cola brownish black with a thin skim of beige foam on top. The aroma still has a slightly phenolic hit of TCP and marker pens, something I noted last time out so I'm not especially worried about it here.

With several more years of imperial stouts under my belt, what impresses me most is how dry it is: burnt toast and dry grass; not how anyone makes this sort of thing now. Secondly it's still pretty much totally devoid of off-flavours, with no more than a hint of sherry oxidation. That's kind of it, though. Looking back on my 2016 review I was awestruck by the complexity. This doesn't have that. It hasn't gone bad, but I think its peak may have passed. We've been left with a pint of earthy bogwater which is clean, but by no means a supreme imperial stout. Sic transit, etc.

I have a couple of bottles left, and with luck I'll get to them in due course, but I think this one's place as a special-occasion celebration beer is now lost, unless something else changes in it next.

YellowBelly Mashtun Millionaires

Origin: Ireland | Date: 2021 | ABV: 7.4% | On The Beer Nut: March 2021

It's about a year since I drank Mashtun Millionaires, one of a pair of beers which represented the final new releases from YellowBelly brewery, though we didn't know it at the time. The brewery had been doing everything right in terms of having a reliable core range, geek-pitched one-offs, two tied pubs and an overall plethora of good will. I guess it just wasn't enough. There's talk of a revival and I hope it works out.

Meanwhile, in Molloy's off licence recently, I spotted two bottles of Mashtun Millionaire in the expiring beer discount zone. First off, it's dated June 2022 so should be fine; secondly it's a strong Brett-fermented ale in an armoured Belgian bottle so should be absolutely fine; and thirdly it was priced at €2.50 a bottle so I bought both of the ones displayed. As it happened I had stashed a bottle that I acquired from the brewery last year for €6, so what better excuse to get it open?

Brett perfume is the first impression, mostly lavender and violet, with a greasy but enticing rotten funk in the background. The flavour takes that fermenting-flowers sweetness and adds in an incense spicing with some oaky vanilla. While all funky and farmyard to begin, the finish is pure and clean, with crisp white lemonade and sparkling dry cava.

In my original assessment I found it dirty and tough going to drink. I'm confident now that it has cleaned itself up and begun to fulfil its potential. I suspect it still has a way to go so don't crack your spare bottle just yet. Me, I'm very glad I have two more still in the stash.

Fuller's Vintage Ale

 Origin: UK | Date: 2015 | ABV: 8.5% | On The Beer Nut: August 2008

We have added a best before date of December 2025 as this exceptional ale will improve for many years to come, like a fine wine or whisky.

So wrote Mr Keeling on the box, and I can't help feeling I'm being a bit premature in opening this, but I reckon six or so years is plenty to take stock (no nerdy pun intended) of what this beer has become. I'm not sure Fuller's Vintage has been available in these parts for some time now so I can't compare with a fresh one, and it's been over a decade since I last tasted it so don't ask me what it's originally like.

This one is a handsome amber shade, with surprisingly decent off-white head retention. It smells of caramel and raisins, which is probably not far off the original. There are certainly no early signs of agedness. And few in the flavour, too. It's rich and fudge-like, with a slightly harder toffee edge and a smidge of buttery shortbread: a raid on the tartan tins in the Scottish giftshop of your choice.

A faint vinousness suggests port or sherry, indicating that this is still in the early phases of transformation. Oxygen-influenced, but not oxidised. I reckon there are a few years left in it yet. And, as befits a beer purposefully built for ageing, I detect a distinct robustness about it, an open challenge to the ravages of time to do their worst. I think this will get better, exceedingly enjoyable and all that it is now. Seems Mr Keeling was right all along.