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Review: Smuttynose Star Island Single

April 2, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

This review required a little research on my part. For whatever reason, I had always assumed that the “session” part of a session ale had something to do with the brewing process. Like how long the brewing session lasted. Or something. Yea, yea, sometimes I don’t think things through. Stop judging me.

While there is no solid consensus on the origin of the name, a “session ale” seems to come from the days of the industrial revolution, when workers only had specific, limited times to be social and drink. These sessions would be a much needed break from the work day, and gave the dirty, overworked factorymen a chance to unwind.

One problem with these sessions? The workers had to go back to work afterwards.

So to prevent an entire workforce of extremely drunken men working with heavy machinery in the days long before OSHA, a new beer was fashioned. Usually lower than 5% ABV and featuring supreme drinkability, these session ales were light enough for men to have 4-5 while socializing, but still be able to walk out of the pub.

I don’t have a lot of experience with other session ales, but after drinking 3 Star Island Singles, I definitely want to get some. It’s very, very drinkable, the beer disappears from the glass faster than you seem to be drinking it. This is antithetical to a beer that you’d nurse and savor; it begs you to drink it, and already have another open to refill your glass.

It’s a light orange with a decent head, and an almost non-existent smell. You really have to shove your nose into the glass to get the flowery bouquet of weak hops, yeast, and light malt. It settles quickly, but retains consistent carbonation, giving each sip a bite, like it’s full of microscopic sharks.

In terms of taste, it probably falls somewhere between a full-bodied lager and a weak pale ale. It’s sour but not unpleasant, refreshing but not watery. It’s actually incredibly refreshing. All most too refreshing.

It’s easy to see why this style of beer was popular for drinking sessions. It goes down effortlessly, but it doesn’t get you drunk. I imagine it is what Non-alcoholic beer dreams to be when it grows up. The opus of beer drinkers everywhere: delicious beer that doesn’t get you too drunk.

Well, it does. But you have to drink a lot of it. I guess that’s the point.

8 out of 10.

The mermaid on the label give me the creeps.

Next up: Heavy Seas Classic Lager

Review: Smutttynose IPA

March 31, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

Do you remember that first ex-girlfriend/boyfriend who ripped out your heart and played hacky-sack with it? Do you remember what what it was like to feel so forlorn, pining for their company, driving by their house at 2 AM, sitting outside their window, crying for hours on end?

Do you remember how you felt when that sadness inevitably turned to rage? When keying your name into their car after 6 shots and 8 beers seemed like the perfect revenge? Do you remember the inability to express your ire in anything but pathetic whimpering and guttural grunts?

Remember the overwhelming, unwavering bitterness?

It didn’t just disappear. It was captured, in secret. Stored in bottles. Housed for years to be re-purposed.

A mad brewmaster knew this emotional pain would yield an ingredient so potent, it would be dangerous and morally reprehensible to use.

But he used it.

A lot of it.

All of it.

The result? Smuttynose IPA.

This stuff contains the collective bitterness of an entire generation. The “bitter beer face” was invented solely for people drinking this beer. People who co-opted its use for other bitter beers are just posers. Nothing is as bitter as this beer. Nothing.

You have to take this beer seriously or it will hurt you. I swear that when I pryed off the cap, I heard the echo of a childish argument between jilted lovers. It wants to get out of the bottle. When it does, it’s opaque, orange, and oppressive.

But damn it tastes good.

It smells like the shame of that 17th drunken voice mail. Barely coherent, but vitriolic nonetheless. It’s hard to pick out anything other than the smell of hops. I’m wondering if they accidentally dumped 100 times the normal amount of hops into a pale ale one day and just decided to run with it.

This is one of those beers that somehow tastes dry. It makes you more thirsty the more you drink it. The flavors are intense like the first 2 weeks of a summer vacation romance. The after taste is that feeling when you find out that your new beau lives 400 miles away.

But like all youthful romances, it’s good while it lasts. You’ll have fond memories, even if it leaves a bad taste in your mouth (or with a throbbing head in the morning).

If you generally like IPAs, you might like this one. If you don’t, you’ll find this beer catty and a little bitchy. Don’t tell her friends I said that though, I might still have a chance.

7.25 out of 10

Those two guys on the label? Lamenting lost love.

Next up: Heavy Seas Loose Cannon IPA!

Review: Smuttynose Old Brown Dog Ale

March 29, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

I’m a cat person. I’ve always had cats, I like cats, cats seems to like me.

It’s not that I’ve got anything in particular against dogs, they’re just foreign to me, like sobriety or fashion sense.

I get that dogs are lovable, dopey, loyal. Most of them are pretty cute, even if it is in a grotesque sort of way. I just never really wanted to own one for whatever reason. They seem like a lot of work, with the walking and the bathing and the crotch slobbering. Maybe I’m just lazy.

Dogs and beer have a long, sordid history. There are the dark ages of Red Dog, and the Flying Dog Renaissance. There are the confusing days of the Dogfish, which is a fish that apparently looks like a dog, but makes very good beer that doesn’t taste like fish or dog.

To top it off, I just found out that there is alcohol- and carbonation-free beer made especially for dogs! Cool and kind of stupid/pointless!

And now dogs and beer have found their way into my life again, with Smuttynose Old Brown Dog Ale.

I should preface this by saying that this beer is incorrectly classified: it neither tastes old or like a brown dog.

It does however, in Smuttynose fashion, taste quite hoppy for a brown ale. It pours a translucent brown, with subtle hints of red, like a chocolate Labrador that has recently played fetch in a patch of terre rouge. The carbonation is “fizzy” but not “bubbly”. It settles quickly, giving off a nice, but subtle, aroma of berries.

I generally like brown ales. It all started back when I was but a wee, under-aged drinker, stealing NewCastle Brown from my parent’s fridge. I once, in a moment of youthful experimentation and idiocy, beer-bonged and entire Newcie Brown in 2 gulps. I cannot recommend this practice.

But Newcie is smooth, slightly watery, almost forgettable. Smuttynose Brown is anything but. More in line with Dogfish Head’s Indian Brown (and in taste, Raison D’etre) this beer has plenty of complex flavors, starting from the upfront sweetness, to the backend bitters.

This is comfortable beer to drink. Imagine yourself curled up on your favorite chair, reading that totally worn out copy of your favorite book that you should probably replace, with your favorite, loyal dog, sprawled at your feet. But instead of an actual dog, it’s a glass full of beer, and it’s not on your feet, it’s in your hand.

Pretty great, right?

8.75 out of 10.

A great beer at the end of the day if your dogs are barking.

Next up: Heavy Seas Black Cannon IPA!

Review: Smuttynose Shoals Pale Ale

March 27, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

As promised in my sampler post, here is review one of eight.

Pale ale refers to beer that is brewed with more pale malt than not. The term came into being during the 1700s, when many malts were dried using coke (the coal byproduct, not the high fructose corn syrup mess). Pale ale is a blanket term for many sub-styles, including popular variations like Amber and Indian Pale Ale (IPA).

If you’re used to traditional, American pale ale, Smuttynose Shoals will punch you in the face, knock your teeth out, and steal your wallet.

I should qualify (having tried five varieties from the New Hampshire brewer to date): these guys don’t mess around with hops. They’ll hop and then hop and then just when you think there are too many hops…they’ll hop some more.

Remember that Dr. Suess book, Hop on Pop? It’s like that, but it’ll get you drunk.

This isn’t your typical Bass or Sierra Nevada. It’s must closer to an English Bitter than an Amber, and closer to an IPA than you might expect from its name. It’s fierce and aggressive, leaving a nice bitter aftertaste in your mouth and plenty of bubbles on the glass. Don’t bother drinking this from the bottle; half of the flavor comes from the smell, which can only be unleashed in a nice pint glass.

If you don’t like bitter, don’t even bother opening the bottle.

If you do, you’ll be very, very pleased.

It pours a beautiful translucent, ruddy orange. The head is generous, but not overwhelming. It smells fresh and flowery, suggesting it was dry-hopped. While there is a slight sweetness to the first taste, the full body is more like a good loaf of sourdough. It’s not smooth, but the bite works with the complexity of the flavor. There is very little alcohol taste or lacing, as it is hidden behind the aforementioned copious dose of hops.

It’s not refreshing, but it is tasty. I wouldn’t recommend it as a lawn-mowing beer, but it would definitely pair well with a fish or chicken dish, especially one with lots of fresh greens and veggies. It would also make for a delicious beer batter, if you could find the heart to cook with it instead of drinking it.

Overall, 8.5/10, but if I had reviewed it as the weather was getting colder, not warmer, I’d probably give it a 9/10.

A shoal is a somewhat linear landform extending into a body of water, typically composed of sand, silt or small pebbles. This is a somewhat delicious beer extending into my stomach, composed of water, hops, and alcohol.

Next up: Heavy Seas Gold Ale!

Sampler Surprise (Smuttynose and Heavy Seas)

March 26, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

My taste buds are always up for an adventure. Especially if that adventure includes hops and malted barely. I’ve plowed through my fair share of small craft samplers over the years, but never truly took the time to appreciate how good (and sometimes bad) the collections may be.

Until now.

Spring means Spring seasonals, most of which are citrusy and wheaty, which are juxtaposed to my normal beer-pallete, which is fickle and likes what it likes.

I decided to pick up two non-seasonal samplers that contained at least three of a beer I already liked, so I could at the very least enjoy one fourth of my purchase should the other nine turn out to be rancid.

Sampler #1: Smuttynose Variety Sampler

I tried my first Smuttynose (Pumpkin Ale) last fall, at the behest of my fellow beer enthusiast Justin. As one who has a voracious appetite of any combination of fruit and alcohol, I was eager to try it. Last fall alone, I tried nine new pumpkin ale varieties and I would place Smuttynose PA near the top of that list.

This sampler came all the way from Portsmouth, NH, which is the sister city to Nichinan, Japan. I don’t quite get the box or label art (maybe it’d make more sense if I was sitting on a porch of some old house in New Hampshire), but I’m not one of those weird snobs who turns his nose up at a beer based on the bottle it comes in.

The four beers in this sampler were (past tense, I drank them all):

-Smuttynose IPA (the flagship)
-Shoals Pale Ale (a heavy, highly hopped pale)
-Old Dog Brown Ale (a semi-sweet, nutty ale)
-Star Island Single (crisp, grassy, Belgian pale)

Left to right, order of enjoy-itude.

Sampler #2: Heavy Seas Sunken Sampler

Clipper City Brewing Company of Baltimore, MD, is basically in my backyard. For those of you who don’t know Baltimore, the entire city is infused with nautical themes; an 1854 sloop-of-war (the USS Constellation) sits anchored in the harbor. I’m always a sucker for local beers, getting a giddy squeal of delight when I see “brewed in Maryland” on the label or packaging.

Heavy Seas, a pirate themed series of beers that boasts plenty of Chesapeake Bay charm. I’m sure any of these would make a marvelous match for some fresh blue crab. An additional gimmick with this sampler is that you’re given a mystery beer, marked with an iconic “X” on the box.

The names and label design of these brews is delightfully silly and clever:

-Gold Ale (a Beer World Cup 2010 winning crisp, pretty golden)
-Black Cannon IPA (a malty, hoppy, stouty IPA; this was the “mystery beer” in my case)
-Loose Cannon IPA (a traditional but abundantly hopped IPA)
-Classic Lager (a slightly sour and flavorful twist on a generic beer)

Arr, here be good beers.

Individual reviews to follow.

First up…Shoals Pale Ale!

How to turn a simple job into a complicated one (And change the pull cord on a mower)

March 18, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

Spring!

Time for allergies and mosquito bites and repairing all of the yard tools you broke in the Fall. Time to make the yard look pretty so you can drive around snobbishly saying, “pfft, our yard looks way better than their yard.”

The first thing I needed to fix was the mower. I have a sturdy old John Deere (JA-62 if anyone cares) that has cut down more than its fair share of evil grass blades over the years. I’ve changed its oil, air filter, sharpened and re-positioned its blade. When being lazy last year and mowing up leaves instead of raking them, I accidentally tore through the ten year old nylon pull cord.

But hey, it’s just a pull cord, easy fix, right?

No, wrong. It probably should be an easy fix, but when I’m involved, things gets stupid complicated stupid fast.

The culprit:

It went from fine to frayed to filament to fuuuuuu, in record time.

Step 1: Gather your tools

You will need:

-A Phillips head screwdriver (or drill with Phillips head bit)

-A flat head screwdriver (or same as above, with a different bit, obviously)

-Sockets of various sizes (depending on your make/model of modest mower)

-A socket extension or socket screwdriver attachment (to leverage or not to leverage, that is the boring question)

-Beer (your choice)

Since it was slightly overcast today, I chose Smuttynose IPA.

Step 2: Remove the shroud and gas tank

To get at the housing for the pull cord, you need to take the mower completely to pieces. If you find yourself removing big, tight bolts and looking into the crankcase, you’ve gone way, way too far.

Remove the shroud (aka pointless plastic mower-helmet). Mine was secured with two longish Phillips head screws.

Once the shroud has been removed, you’ll need to remove the gas tank. This is a great time to spill gasoline all over your shoes and jeans, if you haven’t done so already.

This is also a good time to note what other parts probably definitely need replacing, so you won’t be shocked when they break. I noticed how ragged and leaky my gas supply hose was, and I took a picture of it so you can commiserate with my future repair job.

There was a chick on TLC's "My Strange Addiction" who drank gasoline. Beer is cheaper.

Step 3: Remove the weird thingy that contains the wound up pull cord

There should be a few bolts holding the pulley/flywheel/wind up thingy in place. Check to make sure you aren’t just removing screws at random; I accidentally removed the throttle cable and it was a total bitch to put back on without a lot of swearing and kicking.

One weird thing to note with this piece: you’ll also remove the oil dip stick when you pull it loose. From my research, this is normal for all types of mowers, so don’t judge your mower too harshly. It’s what nature intended.

Once removed, flip this piece over to find the pulley that hides the cord. If you’ve made it this far in under an hour without calling anyone for help, you win the “better than the writer of this article” award.

Turbines to speed!

Step 4: Remove old pull cord

Using your flat head screw driver, remove the screw that holds the pulley in place.

Spoiler alert: this thing is under tension and will jump out at you like one of the “can-o-snakes” from the 90s. Set your beer down before proceeding.

If your pulley housing looks like this, you’ve either done everything perfectly, or screwed it all up:

Surprise! You get to spend more money than you thought!

Ignore the mess you’ve made, and continue to remove the old cord. If the pulley spring is getting in your way, just detach the little hooks from either end and set it aside for now.

Most mowers are surprisingly simple. The pull cord is probably just knotted on both ends. Cut the cord using a sweet, sharp knife, and set it in the corner of shame (the trash can).

While less popular than "Rock, Paper, Scissors", "Knife, Rope, Pulley" found some use in the small engine/farmer's market crowd.

I know this step is getting kind of long, so you’ve probably wandered off. Stay with me! I promise rewards!

Next, remove and cut the cord from the handle, making space for your new cord. You’ll probably have to stick something (a screwdriver, twig, lightsaber themed chopstick) into the handle to get the knot dislodged.

I have no idea why my pinky decided to go all "fancy-pants holding a martini glass" while taking this picture. Feel free to make fun.

Step 5: Attach the new cord and re-coil your pulley

Because trying to order directly from the John Deere website was like chiseling my request into limestone and sending it via barefoot courier, I went to Lowes and bought a universal mower pull cord. It wasn’t quite as nice as my original cord, but beggars and choosers and all that.

Note: The Lowes staff does not appreciate a random, dirty dude walking around their store taking pictures of their products.

Push the new string through the hole in the pulley and tie a knot. I have a tendency to tighten knots using my teeth. Don’t do that in this situation, unless you like the taste of dirt, gasoline, nylon, and used motor oil.

Now comes the most excitingly annoying part of the whole process: rewinding the pulley. You have to take the part that sprang out at you and carefully coil it all back into the center of the pulley. Fair warning: this make take multiple attempts.

Ultimately, you want it to look like this:

Much harder to do that it looks, if it looks simple.

Step 6: Replace and wind up the pulley

Now that the new cord has a new home, you can start to rebuild your mower. The pulley mechanism has two small plastic “wings” that act as a stopper and cause the wheel to wind back up once it’s pulled. Be sure to line these up correctly, otherwise your cord won’t rewind at all and will hang limply, like a very sad, very dead fish.

Winding the cord up is relatively simple. Before you tighten down the flat head screw, turn the entire pulley clockwise, pulling more cord into the center of the device. If you are doing it correctly, the “wings” will resist and pop out, spinning the entire contraption backwards a little bit.

You need to wind it up more than you would think. Don’t leave enough cord to reach all the way to handle holder, as this won’t create enough tension to pull the cord back into the pulley.

These are the aforementioned "wings." They work sort of like a yo-yo. But not really.

Step 7: Test

Replace all the parts you took off, and give the pull cord a yank. If the mower starts AND the cord retracts fully, you win!

If not, you lose. Repeat Step 6 until you have wound the cord to the sufficient tension.

Step 8: Mow you magnificent bastard, mow

Victory! You saved your mower’s life. You are a hero to your backyard. I’m sure the hydrangeas will throw you a parade.

At this point, dance a celebratory dance. Or not. Your call.