Boulevard Brewing Nommo Dubbel: More fun than a barrel of Nommos

Next up, Boulevard Brewing’s Nommo Dubbel:


More freaking mermaid labels. So, we already established in the Uinta Sea Legs review that being lured into the ocean by a mermaid was like risking your life to get to first base with a Pentecostal chick. Well, with the legend of the Nommo, the good people of Mali have upped the gamble. There are mixed descriptions, but it appears that in addition to the fishy lower half, Nommo’s are also hermaphroditic, conjoined twins.

Now, that may be your bag. Beerbecue isn’t here to judge your sicko fetishes. But the label makes it look like the hermaphroditic…ness is either manifested in each twin being one gender, or one is a little more lady and the other is little more dude. Either way, one twin is probably a total grenade. So, good luck getting a friend to take Mother Goose duty on a mermaid that looks like a Patrick Mohr runway model:

New rule: Don't read beerbecue before bedtime.

New rule: Don’t read beerbecue before bedtime.

It pours mahogany with a light tan head that enacts the No Lace Left Behind Act of 2013. WARNING: I don’t care what you do with other Nommos in your free time…that’s your deal. Just make sure you let this Nommo warm a bit. I can pick up hardly anything at all at cold temps, but once it warms it smells like molasses, snicker-doodle cookies, bananas, and rum soaked raisins. And the taste is pleasantly malty with brown sugar, fig, toffee, and a hint of clove. It has pretty good carbonation, but manages to finish slightly sweet (which I like in dubbels). Bottom line: It’s subtle, and if you don’t let it warm-up, it smells like nearly nothing and tastes like a poor man’s Chimay Grand Reserve. Fortunately, after it warms, it’s still subtle, but it develops a tasty personality all its own.

The Haybag: Nommos be creepy. Malians need better mythology. Except for this Nommo. This Nommo be tasty.


Boulevard Brewing Rye-on-Rye: Some spicy same-grain action.

Next up, Boulevard Brewing’s Rye-on-Rye:

photo (95)

Yet another week passed without a beerbecue post. I was completely pre-occupied with going to the Notre Dame BCS game (if one can call what happened to my beloved Irish a “game”). Then the rest of my week was filled with recovery, both physical and emotional.

And seriously, how can anyone concentrate on beer with news of Kanye West and Kim Kardashian having a baby? After all, it’s quite a fairy tale. Kanye West – Rapper, son of an English Professor, and regular contributor to the decay of the English language. Kim Kardashian – Socialite, regular contributor to the decay of civilization in general, and co-star with her family in a reality TV show parlayed from fame attributable to her sex tape. Take note, kids: In America, at worst, you’re only one generation removed from prosperity, and, at best, only one sex tape removed from instant fame and riches…if you’re hot.

Kanye imma let you finish

Being a dick also apparently works.

Brewing with rye isn’t new, but it does seem to be gaining in popularity. And as is apparent from beers such as Shmaltz Lenny RIPA, Firestone Wookie Jack, and Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye, rye’s sharp and dry spiciness can be a great complement to the bitterness and fruit of hoppy beers.

In the case of this beer, Boulevard took it a step further and got in on some kinky rye-on-rye action. They brewed a rye ale that could hold up to aging in some sharp and spicy Templeton Rye whiskey barrels. Then after aging, they blended-in 1/3 of the un-aged rye ale so your head wouldn’t explode.

It pours an orange-brown, almost like Grand Marnier. It has a tight, but angry, light tan head that riles itself up into bigger, angry bubbles that hang around and leave some lace. (Lacing seems to be a relatively uncommon occurrence for a barrel-aged ballers. This probably has to do with viscosity, or some other technical bullshit that the beerbecue research department is too beer-addled to figure out.)

It smells like toffee, bananas, vanilla, a little zip, some whiskey, and, as it warmed, a little anonymous fruitiness. The taste was caramel, brown sugar, and some peppery, spicy rye whiskey (and some appurtenant wood and vanilla). The finish is zippy, presumably from the rye and rye barrel, then dry. In fact, it’s pretty dry for a barrel-aged baller, which I guess just really means it’s not that sweet.

The Haybag (from her shot glass-sized pregnancy portion): I’m usually not a fan of booze-aged beers, but this is good. It’s not overbearing in any way, and it doesn’t leave me wishing I had the Rye Whiskey and the Rye Ale in separate vessels.

Beer Review: Boulevard Brewing Dark Truth Stout

Next up, Boulevard Brewing’s Dark Truth Stout:

Thank you to dangermenparenting for leaving this in my fridge (along with 2 apparently “extra cold” Coors Lights). If only all our dark truths were this good.

#1 Lakers fan, Jack Nicholson, would probably agree. He discovered his dark truth in a 1974 Time magazine interview. The interviewer dropped a bomb and revealed to Jack that his sister was actually his mother. Fortunately for Jack, it wasn’t the “your sister is your momma, too” sort of thing; rather it was the “Mom…Dad, I want to pursue my career as a dancer can you please raise little Jackie as your own” sort of thing.

Funny, usually with the Lakers it’s paternity questions.

Of course, it is widely-claimed that Walt Disney was a closet anti-Semite and a Nazi-sympathizer. Others claim his dirty little dark truth was that he was just generally racist. No way. That’s crazy, right?

Some see racism. I see Disney at the vanguard of interracial dating.

Oh, c’mon. They’re crows. And Jim is a pretty common name.

Ummmm. What the…

It pours like a hefty stout, but not like all crazy viscous. And it’s dark as…the truth, I guess. The head is persistently frothy and is dark khaki with darker swirling highlights when you give the glass a pretentious whirl. It smells like the usual suspects: Chocolate, cream, and coffee. But there’s something else that’s almost like what you might smell in a red wine that has some big time hints of plum and chocolate. Maybe it’s the Belgian yeast, because it has a certain deep fruitiness to it, like a very philosophical discussion with Liberace. It tastes very roasty with big notes of chocolate, coffee, and char. Sometimes it even has a singed chocolate and brown sugar thing going on. Even some hop character makes an occasional cameo. Finally, it’s big, but it doesn’t finish really sweet…more roasty and smokey.

This stuff is good. If they had a baller barrel-aged version of this, to get it I would do any number of the imbecilic things that Bruno Mars claims he would do for ya (even though you won’t do the same).

The Haybag (from her shotglass-sized pregnancy portion): It’s good. It reminds me of something.

(Something tells me that the Haybag’s isn’t giving me her full effort lately. Doctor sanctioned third trimester boozing can’t get here fast enough.)

Beer Review: Boulevard Brewing Long Strange Tripel

Next up, Boulevard Brewing’s Long Strange Tripel:

Dangermenparenting brought over this solid, out-of-town find. It hails from Kansas City, Belgium…no wait, Missouri!? It was split four ways and near the end of the evening, so don’t judge my glass selection and hazy iPhone notes.

This beer is excellent. And I am not a style nazi at all, but it’s pretty true to the tripel style. The Alström Bros from beeradvocate actually gave this a rare 100. Although as usual, I read their review and felt like we drank a different beer. They’re always throwing in crazy-ass flavors that they pick up. “A passing hint of passion fruit eaten while you place your nose against the brass handle of a porthole on a ship in high seas, such that the rolling ship makes you faint and hollow in the stomach.” OK, they didn’t actually say that. But sometimes I feel like they are talking out of their asses…or their palates could just be better than mine.

Carob, blossom honey, medicinal phenols, sage, booze-soaked golden raisins, and an underlying flatulent funk.

It pours hazy orange with a nice, white head that hangs around (but it’s in one of my hop bomb glasses, so sue me). The smell is belgian candy sugar, bananas, cloves, and a latent fruitiness. The taste is as it smells, along with belgian yeast, peppery spiciness, and apples and pears. I like my tripels slightly on the sweet end of the tripel spectrum, and this one does not disappoint. But it’s not so sweet that the carbonation can’t do its job: masking (mostly) the 9% ABV and giving it a clean finish.

I want more of this. And I want more Boulevard dammit!

The Haybag: I remember this was quite good, but my mental notes from that evening are a little hazy. I think they need to bring us another one so that I can be certain.