Rushin' For Breakfast

A few months ago, I was asked if I would like to partake in the workplace beer club. The obvious answer would have been “yes”. But, there was some hesitation in my answer to accept the invitation. The biggest reason I would ever decline the offer would be that I do not have a refined palette and my vocabulary in describing the array of flavors from
fine foods and potables tends to be on the third grade level. With my reservations stuffed neatly in my shirt pocket, I accepted. In exchange for free beer (always a good deal), I would have to produce a review of the beverage that I was given. Fair enough, game on.

My first challenge comes from the North Coast Brewing Company in Fort Bragg, California. The brew is a Russian imperial stout and goes by the name “Old Rasputin”. With an alcohol by volume of 9%, I figured that this would be a nice evening drink to soothe the weary soul after a hard days labor. But, after reading the blurb on the company's website, with the “...chocolate and coffee aromas...”, I decided that this drink was best served for breakfast. Good choice on my part.

Now comes the part where lack of skill, compromise (how much work must be done for “free” beer?) and shear laziness rears its ugly head and is borne out in the next few paragraphs.
For all intents and purposes, I really should have done a little more “research” into whom Rasputin was, what he did and what his claim to fame (infamy) was. By doing a little leg work and immersing myself in that world (I really, really, really hate doing tangible research), I could have, cleverly, interlaced the entire review of this stout with the real-life person. I could have drawn upon the mysteries of his life, the influence that he held and the curious circumstances of his death and used them in an engaging, fun, thought-provoking and entertaining review. Alas, all I came away with is that Rasputin had, reportedly, an unusually long wang. Not good information for a beer review.

With that being said, I decided to, at the very least, drink this stout. I do like a good stout (the oatmeal stout at the Brewhouse and the java stout at the Thirsty Pagan are two of my current favorites) but I am not a beer snob. I come from the “if it's good to you, then it's good” school of thought (it does carry over hence my eclectic taste in movies, music and food). Now, nine o'clock in the morning is a good time to sample this tasty beverage (aside from feelings of awkwardness) because of the richness of the flavors that this stout has. Pouring the chilled bottle into a glass, my mouth was watering as the rich, thick liquid strolled down the sides of the glass, pooled at the bottom and slowly starting filling said glass until the very end where a nice, caramel colored foamy head winked at me, inviting me to taste. Chocolate and coffee flavors are there but it is the first sip where the brightness of flavors kick this into overdrive. The slightly bitter and hoppy opening salvo is softly muted by the hint of a smokey undercurrent. The viscus liquid clings onto the taste buds and finds crevices on the tongue as it mossies to the back of the mouth ensuring that you taste all that it has to offer before one last swallow sends it cascading to the darkened depths known as the stomach. It is this, the last ditch efforts to hang on, where I truly enjoyed this drink. Whereas the opening act was vibrant, bright and gung ho, the final act was mellow, warm, rich and begging to be revisited.

Here it is that I stop. I have exhausted a limited vocabulary in trying to describe the taste of something I would, if asked if I liked it, respond with, “Yeah, it was good.” If one does like to stroll on the side of adventure from time to time, a break from the rut, I would recommend this beverage. Being that I am not twelve years old anymore, I would say that this, Old Rasputin, makes mouths happy.