Kyle Nabilcy
Festival of Barrel Aged Beers
Canned craft beer has been exploding in popularity for so long that you can’t really even call it a trend anymore. Cans don’t replace bottles as the preferred delivery device, but they do sometimes steal the large format bottle’s thunder.
Over the years, canned craft beer has shifted: the cans are no longer only filled with crisp and light beers but also high alcohol, barrel-aged, black-as-night beers. Beers you don’t want to follow with the swing of a golf club.
Canned barrel-aged beers are best served when the late afternoon sky is as black as an imperial stout, when the leaves on the ground are the color of the thick finger of crema at the top of the pour. Revolution Brewing out of Chicago made news back in August when it announced that all of its Deep Wood series beers would be packaged in 12-ounce cans rather than 22-ounce bomber bottles. It does actually make sense, when you set aside the tradition of big beers in big bottles. Unless you’re sharing, no one needs 22 ounces of sticky barleywine.
Beers like that are the very opposite of refreshing and chuggable; they’re hearty and warming. This is as good a reason as any for why the Illinois Craft Brewers Guild throws its Festival of Wood and Barrel-Aged Beers (aka FOBAB, don’t ask me why it isn’t FOWBAB, I don’t know why) in the cool autumn months.
This year’s FOBAB is coming up in a few days, on November 10-11. Normally, you’d be SOL on FOBAB tickets this late in the game, but while I write this, there are still a small number of tickets available for the Friday and Saturday evening sessions. They’re likely lingering because of the distaste beer fans have for the $20 price increase to attend this year’s festival, but it’s still a fun event that I’d recommend fans of big beers attend at least once.
I’m not going to FOBAB this year, but call it the spirit of the season — I wanted to do kind of a baby-BAB at home without having to open up a half-dozen bombers. Up from the cellar my wife and I hauled some barrel-aged canned beers that answered the call. An Oskar Blues Barrel-Aged Ten Fidy, Barley John’s Dark Knight bourbon barrel-aged imperial porter, a can of the very weird Fieldwork Viking’s Lament a friend gifted us, and two vintages of Indeed Rum King.
Let it never be said that a bad case of Beer Acquisition Syndrome isn’t without its benefits when the need is greatest.
The Barrel-Aged Ten Fidy came out about a year ago; it was spectacular then, and it’s spectacular now. The can’s airtight seal does what no wax dip could ever hope to do when it comes to keeping oxygen out. It’s big, thick, roasty, and wonderful. If the Java version shows up in Madison, do not hesitate to spend whatever it takes to get one.
Dark Knight was one of two porters in the Baby-BAB lineup, but it really didn’t behave like one. More stouty than some actual stouts, this was a delicious sip but I didn’t understand why it was billed or brewed as a porter. It too had a year under its belt, and was none the worse for wear.
I’d been looking at that can of Viking’s Lament from Berkeley’s Fieldworks with a somewhat raised eyebrow since my buddy gave it to us. First, is Russian imperial porter even a thing? Second, the list of adjuncts might be more oddball than even I would dream up: treacle, vanilla beans, Italian licorice juice, and white ash — plus a year in bourbon barrels. What can I say, though, except to award my guy Ben all the points for his undying love for this brewery. Viking’s Lament is a big, complicated, fairly sweet mouthful, with flavors that shift alluringly as the beer warms.
Sadly, the Rum King cans did not represent the best of Indeed’s barrel program, which I have typically enjoyed over the years. The fresh batch was better than the year-old vintage, with lots of barrel. Maybe too much. It was hot, off-balance. Last year’s had a lot of small dark fruit notes, currant and coffee-cherry, but almost no appreciable barrel. There were some metallic off-flavors I didn’t care for, either. I’ve liked this beer more on tap, and have really loved the draft-only companion Whiskey Queen stout even more than Rum King every time I’ve had it.
There were lessons learned during my Baby-BAB at-home tasting. First, maybe don’t save the gigantic Ten Fidy stovepipe for last. Second, drink Rum King fresh, but save your pennies for Whiskey Queen at the next Indeed tap takeover. But most importantly, put aside all doubt. Craft cans aren’t just for showerbeer anymore. Curl up with your slippers on and crack an imperial stout by the fire.
Not too close, though. They’re strong.
