Next up, King Titus Porter from Maine Beer Company:
Apparently, this beer is named after some famous male silverback gorilla named Titus, who was observed in the Virunga Mountains for an extended period. So why is Titus deserving of a beer named after him? Let’s see:
Titus’ father and troop leader, Uncle Bert, dies. Another gorilla, Beetsme, attempts a coup d’etat by committing infanticide. The female gorillas think this is a total dick move and leave. Despite Beetsme’s obvious cock-blocking tendancies, Titus is all like “bros before hoes”, and they form an all male group. Then, with only dudes around for 8 years, they go all Silverback Mountain and institute the gorilla troop version of the Navy’s “It’s only queer if you’re tied to the pier” policy. Finally, some ladies show up…there’s probably some confusion, self-loathing, and over-compensation for the past 8 years, and Beetsme takes over (Titus apparently forgetting that Beetsme’s stellar leadership is how they had ended up in an 8-year sausage party). Blah blah blah…Titus impregnates some gorillas behind Beetsme’s back, takes over the troop, doesn’t learn sign language, doesn’t maul any humans for making eye contact, doesn’t not maul a pet kitten, and doesn’t paint a picture of his dead pet dog.
Worthy of a beer name? I guess. Maybe Jimmy Russell Porter would have been better, though.
It pours an impenetrable dark brown…nearly black, with a dense, khaki head that resists retreat (but eventually dies down to a thick film). It smells like roast, cream, bread, a little earthiness, and a hint of spent coffee grounds. The taste opens with roast, a little chocolate, and coffee, which then gives way to a slight earthy, herbal bitterness and a lasting roasted bitterness that hangs. A little thinner than the usual porters that masquerade as stouts. And as with most Maine brews I’ve had, it finishes plenty dry. Interestingly, though, as it warms it does start to feel a little creamier.
The Haybag: Maine Beer Company makes the Haybag a little angry. She thinks their beers are too expensive (she maybe has a point) and too dry (they are often on the dry side). She has forbidden me from buying any more. I’m still trying to figure out whether this is her usual hyperbole or an actual spousal edict.