Hello Belching Monkey Readers!

It’s been about six months since I repatriated to the good ol’ US of A and it is time for a beer review.  One of my favorite things to eat in Japan was soba noodles, particularly zaru soba (cold noodles) in the summertime.   Zaru is the word for a wicker basket in which soba noodles are traditionally served.  Interestingly enough, the similar-sounding saru is the Japanese word for monkey!

What I’ve got for you in this review is Rogue Brewery’s Morimoto Black Obi Soba Ale.  Morimoto-san may be familiar to those of you who watch Iron Chef.  Rogue has a series of signature beers featuring Morimoto’s name.

Rogue’s Morimoto Black Obi Soba  Ale comes bottled in a  big, brown, rather handsome 22-ounce bottle.  Printed directly onto the bottle, the label is spare and very asian-inspired. The kanji (in white) reads morimoto (forest origin/source) and resembles calligraphy brushstrokes. a subtle hinomaru (sun circle/rising sun) is featured in the background. It’s very elegant and a nice bit of graphic design.

The description of the beer, taken directly from the bottle itself:

A darker version of our Soba Ale. Roasted malts provide a rich nut-laced flavor, while the 3 hops blend to provide a refreshing zest. 10 ingredients: Roasted soba, 2 row pale Munich, c-15, c-60, and Weyermann malts: Horizon, Sterling, and Cascade hops, free range coastal water and top fermenting Pacman yeast. 12.05 Plato, 30 IBU, 75.2 AA, 36.0 L

And for those of you who aren’t familiar with an obi,  the obi is a sash that holds a kimono closed.  Monochrome black obi are only worn as part of funeral attire called mofuku (Obi associated with martial arts are a slightly different matter) so most black obi feature other colors. During my stay in Japan, I worked for a lady who owned a kimono shop and I learned how to wear kimono.  I also wrote about them here. So for those of you who want to see an obi, a kimono, and a pudgy gaijin (foreigner)wearing them,  here’s me, sporting one of my kimono outfits, featuring a black-and-silver obi.

Okay, enough with the fashion show and on with the beer review.  Pouring out the beer into a standard pint glass, the ale was very dark brown, like a dark walnut, not quite black.  A bit matte in color, with a manilla-folder colored head that settled quickly.  My pour (first) didn’t have much lacing, however, a second pour which was given to my husband did.  I found this a bit baffling, but chalked it up to shoddy bartending on my part.  The pour was not overly effervescent, was a bit cloudy and while not uninviting, it didn’t really make me say “Wow, what a visually beautiful beer.”

Taking a good whiff of the beer in my glass, I noticed the bouquet was mildly ester-y (is that a word?) not untypical for an ale. Not a big, blowsy bouquet, so I had to stick my nose pretty far into the glass to smell anything, even when I let the beer sit to see if the frangrance would bloom. There were notes of toast, malt, and buckwheat (duh) along with a slight brown sugar scent.

I didn’t care for the first taste. There was a bit of a weird initial note, not buckwheat like I’ve had.  Finally after thinking about it and getting almost to the end of the glass, what I tasted was something similar to rhubarb.  A little research showed that this actually makes sense, as buckwheat (soba) is a member of the rhubarb family. Please don’t be put off by my description here, it isn’t really “directly” rhubarby and doesn’t taste anything at all like Great-Aunt Edna’s rhubarb pie that everyone loathes.  Interestingly enough, that soba/rhubarb note didn’t have a strong showing in the bouquet of the beer.  In fact, my bottle didn’t taste as quite its fragrance suggested it would.

The soba ale has a medium body, and the swallow was smooth, silky across the palate for most of the swallow, with a bit of tannins near the end. The soba taste reappears again towards the end, without the rhubarb suprise that I got from the initial sip.

I found this suprisingly filling brew more like some of the porters I’ve enjoyed in the last few months, but not as balanced and maybe a bit mixed up as to what the featured flavor should be.

Black Obi is easy enought to drink and is rather filling, but my personal opinion is that despite this, the beer is better off paired with food, rather than as a stand-alone sippable. I would pair it with some kind of grilled beef – if I had a Tsubohatchi bar/restaurant near me, I would select the Tsubohatchi steak with shio (salt) sauce.  For a vegetable option, I would choose a mushroom risotto made with shittake mushrooms (ah, Italian-Japanese Fusion Cuisine).

Soba Ale is nicely made, but could benefit from a little fine-tuning, to make some of the elements a little less ambigious. As such, I would give this a rating of 79.

Kampai!

Jodi (to follow me on twitter: jodi_trautman)

PS – I’ve read that the brew has been discontinued, but haven’t confirmed it,  so you may want to grab a bottle to try if you see it in your favorite bottle shop.

Back in the day, my dear old dad owned a car repair shop.  This was before the days of environmental consciousness, so Dad used to get rid of old engine oil by pouring it down the nearest storm drain.  Times surely have changed, as I have found the best way to get rid of old engine oil is to pour it down my throat, especially if it’s Harviestouns Brewery’s Old Engine Oil Black Ale.

Old Engine Oil comes in a brown bottle with a handsome ivory, black and silver label.  The bottlecap features Harviestoun’s mascot, a mouse that looks like it has mischief in mind – he’s devilishly cute. There’s 330 ml (11.2 oz for those of us still in the non-metric dark ages) of Engine Oil in said bottle, at 6% ABV.

When I poured out the brew, it was really dark and — well, gloopy. I thought this was sort of a stupid way to describe the stuff, until I looked on the back label and saw the brewery used the same word, too!    At any rate, the beer is syrupy and black and Harviestoun isn’t kidding with the “black” ale label!  This stuff is like an alcoholic black hole- no light passes through this drink.  Not as handsome visually as some other beers I’ve seen but it’s not ugly either. All that black was a bit intimidating and I started to wonder how the ale would taste. Hopefully, not like used 10W-40.

The head on the beer was coffee-colored and very tall and frothy, with lots of bubbles of various sizes in it. It held well and it left behind a pretty ring of lacing. At the start, the carbonation was pretty frisky but settled down fairly rapidly.

I noticed that the bouquet was very noticeable even beyond the glass.  It reminded me of how my kitchen smells when I am proofing yeast prior to baking bread  but as the glass sat, I began to detect notes of roast malts and dark-roasted coffee and chocolate.

First taste – COFFEE.  Good coffee, too! Complex, carefully roasted and brewed coffee. Mouthfeel was slick, but not overly oily. I would describe the quaff as silky. While the mouthfeel was not creamy or thick,  Old Engine definitely posseses richness.  There were tastes of  dark toasted malt.  Almost near the end, the beer was bitter, but appropriately and refreshingly so.  Finally, there was a subtly sweet oatmeal finish on the sides of the mouth.  The beer is a tad sticky on the lips, but it’s a nice sticky, not a sickly, sugary one.

The biggest surprise to me was how well this beer was balanced. There’s a lot of heavy things going on, but the beer is crafted with a good spine, giving it the posture to support all the other components. Definitely more drinkable than I had assumed it would be.

The beer is advertised as an ideal “post-prandial drink” (that means after meal, for those of you preferring less high-falootin’ language), and I wholeheartedly agree that it would be great finish to a meal, just like a good cup of coffee is a nice way to finish out dinner. I would also add that this beer would be a great accompaniment to the meal itself and I’m thinking  sausages or perhaps venison (as a burger). I would suggest a black bean casserole dish or maybe a black bean burger on a dark rye bun as a vegetarian option.

So instead of pouring old engine oil down the drain, try pouring one out and enjoying a glass of Harviestoun Old Engine Oil Black Ale.

PS – I’ve been back in the US for a month now, and this is my first review after being on hiatus for some time. It’s good to be back. Thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts on Old Engine Oil!

Kampai!

After four-and-half years of living in Japan, I am packing up my futon and heading back to the US of A. It’s been a good run, but I’m finished. My internet access is being shut off on the 12th of January. I leave the Land of the Rising Sun on the 23rd.  I wanted to get one more review while I still have a reliable connection and before I’m reduced to wardriving on the left side of the road for access to the intertubes.

About the only previous experience I have had with “bitter” is my ex-husband. BA-DOMP, SHISSSHHH! Actually, I’ve had bitters and just not realized it.  Hello! Can! of! Boddingtons!  And why is a bitter not bitter? That stout that I reviewed last time was more bitter than the bitter I had tonight. Oh, why don’t you beer people tell me this stuff? Well, they do. The tour guide I spoke with in Cairns Australia said “Victoria Bitter is all right, but there’s better stuff.”

And the better stuff category should very well include this nicely done Lake Towada Bitter. 350ml, 5% ABV.  This premium or strong bitter is bottled in the same fashion as the aforementioned Lake Towada Stout – in a brown bottle with a pretty blue label and that hybrid pull-cap thingy on top.

Pulling off the cap and pouring the beer, my first thought was “This beer sure smells nice.”  A sort of laid-back beeriness about it,  attractive and approachable.

My pour was an opaque coppery-brown with a light brown foamy head.  A nice bouquet of toasty malt with ruby grapefruit and lemon overtones and a the smell of clean t-shirts,  (this is a good thing, trust me) when the glass was given the old sniff-test.  Much more pleasant to sniff than dirty t-shirts (or socks)! The nose had an appropriate bit of hops overseeing the whole affair.

Mouthfeel was clean and dry, maybe just a touch too watery at the front.  Taste was toasty malt with a hint of mineral perhaps a suggestion of cinnamon in there, and gently citrusy fruitiness that offset the almost-sweet malt. No weird aftertaste or feel present and it felt nicely weighted – not too light and not too heavy.

Typical of bitters is low carbonation and this beer certainly was lightly carbonated. I felt that it flattened out a little too quickly but it may have been related to my inattentive pour which sloshed the beer around a little more than it probably should have been. A smidgen more fizz would have been nice, but the beer certainly wasn’t slouching around and was not flabby or too soft.

I really liked the level of toast to the malt, which seemed to be evenhanded and thoughtfully done. The hops were present in an appropriate amount,and although I felt like something felt like it was missing or withheld, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.  Whatever that missing piece was, it wasn’t a showstopper.No big whoop there.

Lake Towada Bitter is a beer that is  easily drinkable and enjoyably so. I’m usually a one bottle person, but after finishing this beer, I wanted another, which is something that doesn’t happen often. This beer would be terrific with pretzels (soft or hard) or a basket of well-salted fries, but I really just wanted another all on its own, no foodstuff tagging along on the second date.

However, at almost six dollars a bottle with the current exchange rate (curse you, strong Yen and damn you, weak American Dollar) I had to content myself with one for this go around.

TMI: I got the burps after finishing this beer for some reason. Surprisingly though, I was like “Hey, still tastes good!”

All in all, a highly sessionable winner that makes me go “Yay! I”d like another one!” *

Kampai!

*if only they didn’t cost six bucks.

FIRST! Hahahahahaha! Lame.

Happy New Year!

New Year’s in Japan is a major Buddhist holiday and is called Oshogatsu.  New Year’s here is home and family oriented. Most of the country businesses shut down for at least three days, sometimes more. The arrival of the new year is celebrated during the first two weeks of January, during which “firsts” of the year play an important role.  A “first” is called hatsu. Everything from the the first temple visit of the year (hastsumode) to the first business day (goyohajime), is duly noted.  So technically, I can call this my hatsuhihyou, the first review of the year. FIRST!

What I have for this review is Lake Towada Stout, locally made in Towada. 5% ABV in a 350ml bottle. The bottle’s label features a pretty winter scene of Lake Towada’s famous Maiden statue. The bottle cap was interesting, a hybrid between a cap and a pull-tab as seen in the picture. I’ve noticed lot more of these caps in the last several months.

My initial reaction to my first whiff of the pour was “burnt band-aids”.  After doing a little reading, in the future I will use the term “phenolic” to describe a nose similar to this, but I think “burnt band-aids” catches the imagination, even if it doesn’t sound polished.   I was a bit concerned that I got a bad beer and since I was put off by the smell, I didn’t have a drink right away. A few moments later,  the phenol gave way to an almost-but-not-quite-burnt toast scent, along with a a bit of coffee.

Getting the beer into the glass, I found the dark, black-brown color of the beer to be  handsome and very visually pleasing.  The pour resulted in a rich, creamy, coffee colored head rising up, but settling quite quickly.  It was very hard to see bubbles, but they were there.

I like bitter and sour tastes but my first taste of the stout was so surprisingly bitter I was taken aback. For the first half of the glass, I wasn’t really sure about the beer and prior to doing reviewing probably would have foisted it on my spouse or poured it out but I wanted to really work through the beer and challenge myself.

I made sure the beer wasn’t too cold and I took my time with the glass and found that the patient approach paid off . The stout did a reverse-origami sort of thing, several flavors unfolding and revealing themselves. By the end of the glass, I found a  lot of  nice things going on in the brew that I really liked. I was pretty excited and proud of myself for sticking with it!

The carbonation was nicely done; active but not turbulent,  I particularly felt the fizz at the sides of my tongue. Mouthfeel was smooth but not overly creamy with a medium-rich body that was substantial without being chewy.  Almost too bitter at first, although this settled down as I worked through my glass.  Smoky overall with tastes of coffee in the middle, dark toasty malt with perhaps a bit of burnt toast or very dark caramel. Nutty and toasty in the mix as well as a nice touch of hops. Despite the intial band-aid (phenolic) smell of the beer, no weird aftertaste in the very long-lasting swallow.

Near the very end, I enjoyed a piece of gingerbread spice/dark/white chocolate bark with the brew. I love pairing chocolate and beer, but if that’s not for you then this brew might be good with a hearty beef stew.

I got to the end of the glass, and noticed some sediment at the bottom.  Peering into the bottle itself, I noticed a ring at the bottom.  This leads me, in my very inexpert opinion, to think the brew was bottle-conditioned. I’d welcome corrections and explanations if I’m mistaken.

Overall, a solid dry stout, nicely made and good for a chilly, windy New Year’s Eve.

Kampai!

Last night, I was wandering around the local konbenie (convenience store) more or less sight-seeing. I got over to the beer section and was browsing when a green and white can caught my eye. Being born and raised in Buffalo, NY, my first thought was of Genesee Cream Ale (aka Genny Screamers) and my family with their garage fridges full of Genny stubby bottles.  I just about broke out in a cold sweat, even though it’s been some 20 years since I had a run-in (or more honestly, the runs) with Genny. Then I noticed the pretty gold script on the can, elegantly declaring “Ginger Draft.” I got all excited, gave my poor spouse a loud lecture on Genny Screamers, made the store staff nervous, eventually purchased the 350ml can and went home to give it a taste test.

I like ginger. Ginger snaps, ginger ale, ginger bread, ginger beer soda, ginger in my food, Ginger rather than Mary Ann. I am crazy for the stuff. Here’s a neat hint: to peel ginger roots, use a spoon, scraping along the knobby root, in firm pulls.  It ‘s much easier than using a knife and wastes less of the ginger, too.

So here we go with my review of Asahi Brewery’s Ginger Draft. Technically speaking, it’s not a beer but rather something called Happoshu, which contains  less malt than beer.  Happoshu was a way for Japanese Breweries to get around the taxes imposed on beer. However, Happoshu proved to be so popular that the J-Government turned around and created new taxes to be levied on the stuff.

The pour was had a light, foamy head that wasn’t long lasting, floating on  clear, light yellow brew.  The drink was bubbling, but not overly vigorously. I would say it was active without being fizzy. There was some slight lacing as the head  settled.  The bouquet was thin and light with a whiff of hops and a disappointingly light hint of ginger and something I swear was a bit “slighty worn socks” – not offensive, but not clean either.

The initial mouthful had a nice, appropriate level of carbonation with a very thin mouthfeel and an interesting, cooling sensation in the mouth. If you have ever had eucalyptus cough drops or gum containing Xylitol, you know the feeling.  My mouthful was not too sweet, not too dry and unfortunately, not too gingery.

The ginger taste shows up towards the middle of the swallow but doesn’t crash the party.  Instead of being the wild and crazy gal with the lampshade on her head, it’s the retiring wallflower who won’t look directly at anyone. It’s a suggestion of ginger, with a tiny bit of dirt taste.  I probably should say “earthy” instead of dirt, but I already mentioned dirty socks, so why be delicate now?

Being new to all this, I forgot to take a reading of the beer’s temperature right when I intially poured, but I promise to do better next time. I’ll tell you that it tasted better colder, even though I recently learned that most people drink their beer too damn cold. When the beer hit the 52 degree mark, there was a bit more of the ginger present but also more earthiness. Earthiness has its place but it wasn’t in this brew.

If it wasn’t for the weird, weak ginger-dirt thing going on, you could mindlessly drink quite a bit of it.  Mostly, I was disappointed with the lack of ginger.  I wanted the bright, piquant zing that I adore in various food and drink.  Ginger Draft didn’t deliver a flash or even a trouser drop.  “Meh” would be a good word, even if it isn’t terribly articulate.

So while I didn’t like this beer, it wasn’t poorly made as far as craftmanship goes, but I have a sneaking suspicion the Asahi marketing department had more to do with this beer  as an attempt to attract the flavored alcohol/alco-pops/mixed drinks under-30 crowd than a brewmaster did.

Kampai!

An American, living in Japan, drinking a beer from a traditional African recipe that’s commercially brewed in Belgium. Isn’t globalization terrific?

I’m new to reviewing. I welcome constructive criticism, tasting suggestions, and my thanks for the opportunity to drag you all along on my tasting adventures.

I’ve been jealously reading the winter/holiday beer reviews since I can’t get the seasonal stuff where I am. I chose Mongozo Banana Beer for my first Belching Monkey review. Banana? Monkey? Get it?

A lot of beers have interesting bottles or labels. Sometimes, I will buy an untried beer, wine or other spirit because of interesting packaging and sometimes this strategy lets me discover a gem!    Mongozo’s packaging is plain but it does its job: BANANA. BEER. 4.8% ABV. Did I get a gem? Read on.

Pouring the beer, there was a big cloud of creamy BANANA! and vanilla fragrance that smelled good if very sweet and not very subtle.  Also present  in the fragrance there was whiff of yogur and a  hint of taffy.  No scent of anything artificial, chemical or phenolic. Still, not a complex or interesting bouquet.

According to the creator of  Mongozo, the traditional “glass” is a calabash (gourd). Even with global trade, I didn’t have a calabash handy, so I used a regular glass. You can find Mongozo-branded beer glasses that mimic the calabash shape. The beer in my glass was  slightly hazy yellow ale with a  small, white, creamy and dense head which didn’t stick around long. No real lacing, which isn’t suprising, since I don’t believe there are hops in the beer.   If there are, I missed them completely.

Despite its smell, I was expecting Mongozo to be sour and was surprised by the candy-like sweetness of my first taste. The sweetness  didn’t put me off the beer entirely but it gave me pause.  As the beer warmed up – I may have served it too cold – a bit more of a sour note came up, but not enough provide contast or balance. I had a hard time finishing the beer because of the sweetness. Mongozo has a soft mouthfeel that veers dangerously towards flabby. I prefer a brew with spine. I decided the banana beer was a one-trick pony as there wasn’t much going on other than BANANA!  Mongozo seems competently produced;  there’s just not much there with which to work.

Foodwise,  I would pair with spicy dishes.  Mongozo Banana might work as a dessert beer, although I suspect there are better choices.  Mongozo could be a fun one-off “Hey, let’s try this!”

I wasn’t crazy about Mongozo Banana Beer, but not having had African-style beer before, it’s only fair to to plan on revisiting the style, if not this particular beer. It also made me feel to good to know that Mongozo is a  fair trade product. If you have friends who are allergic to gluten, they can have this wheat-free brew.

If you try it, let me know what you think!

Kampai!