Been a while! But I’m far from done. A few things have happened since I last updated. I’ve left my job as a medical practice manager to pursue some creative endeavors full-time. This will allow me to spend more time helping my wife, Kate, as she slogs through her first year of teaching. It was a tough decision, but the right one.
I know what you must be thinking, “Uff-da! That’s quite a change!” And you’re right. Which brings me to my next point…
This Pint Sized Review is brought to you by Uff-da by New Glarus Brewing Company! Thank you to my friend, Janet, who gladly donated a case of Wisconsin beer to the cause.
When two beards cross paths, the larger gets the right of way.
This dark brown is a heavy hitter, I’ve been warned. It sort of reminds me off the bat of Ron Burgundy by its look… almost mahogany in appearance with many leather-bound books. It has a very thin head that decided to GTFO pretty much at the thought of sticking around. Like a father figure.
Smells sweet like a melted tube of those icey-pops in that really, really sweet way you wouldn’t expect of something that kind of looks like a swamp. Smells like it was brewed in Reinheitsgebot or some scheisse. I don’t speak Nazi.
This is a really good monk-style beer out of the deformed foot state. Don’t even pretend you’re the mitten, that’s a lie and you should feel bad about that whole fiasco when you tried to steal our nickname.
You only need mittens like this if you were raised in Chernobyl.
The thing about Bock beers is that I have to be listening to classical or gregorian chant music to truly appreciate it. Link is down at the end of the article.
Bock beers are traditionally made by German monks and used to supplement for food during Lent. The Pope heard about this and called them out. The monks said, “No, really, bro, this beer is solely to sustain us, not to get blitzed yo” and the Pope responded, “Bring me the goods, then.”
EDITOR’S NOTE: This review goes downhill fast. The following is verbatim from the notes Geoff and I took while drinking copious amounts of this brew fit for people sworn to poverty, so I apologize.
Goes downhill about as fast as a paralyzed child in a wheelchair can while searching for totally-not-ET.
And I quote,
“So they took all their f***in’ booze to Rome, but they did not properly refrigerate or preserve that f***in’ s*** on the way. A few thousand miles of traveling in the sun will do a number to beer and your skin, so get checked for melanomas. By the time they got their, they were all in trouble because Jesus, that’s a long way. The Pope tasted it, he said, ‘This is rank and it stank, and tastes quite sh***y, to be frank. Pretty dank. Imma take this crank to the bank. See you Mondank.’ and it’s true. This I know for the Bible tells me so.”
And that’s why monks are lit all Lent.
Looking back at this with a sober head, this is an incredibly smooth bier with a traditional low carbonated mouthfeel. Tastes like wood and syrup, or like a cutting board in a Canadian cabin. It has a bit of a coffee undertone according to the bottle, but I wasn’t picking that up. I honestly tasted more of a malt to it. It’s roasty in the malt flavor, but I’m not getting the coffee. It’s a great winter beer! You won’t be full for three days like other heavy beers, but it’s a damn fine pint that’ll put hair on your knuckles.
Or on your butt.
I’d pair this with chocolate bars, a roaring fire, and original sin. This beer makes you go “Uff-da!”