Today is December 10th, which is National Lager Day in the United States. 

So, I’m drinking Big Bad Baptist, an Imperial Stout by Epic Brewing. Because it’s f***ing winter. 

Suck my shivering nuts. 

I’m confused as to why it’s called “Big Bad Baptist.” Last I heard I’m pretty sure Baptists don’t drink. 

Wait… that makes sense. It’s big beer coming in at 12%, aged in whiskey barrels with coffee and cocoa nibs… yeah, if this was a parishioner, it’d be really bad at being Baptist. 

Hail Satan, I guess.

How Do You Make Sure a Baptist Doesn’t Drink Your Beer on a Fishing Trip? Invite Two of Them.

Taking a gander at this Holiest of Holy beer, it looks… big. It’s black, black like orc blood. There is zero light piercing the veil of this beer, and it retained a thin cappuccino-like head for a bit. It’s also sticking to the sides of the glass like my love handles stick to the sides of narrow hallways.

What a beautiful dark beer.

Not in the least, baby.

Is it Possible to be Baptized in Cold Brew?

This beer smells like I’m not accomplishing anything else today. I’m going to have to program a bot to write my blogs for me. 

MAKING MY WAY DOWNTOWN

This smells like a dark roast Irish coffee. Coffee is heavy on the front end of the sniff, followed by a sweet whiskey note which I assume is Jameson right up in there. That coffee is reminiscent of the best mocha you’ve had this side of a fair trade coffee roaster’s storefront. It fills my lungs with what I assume is something pious and pure. 

That’s about the right amount of whiskey for your coffee.

Let’s Go for a Ride Down Memory Lane

Imagine, if you will, an old percolator that your Uncle Tom filled with surprisingly high-quality coffee. He drank it all before you woke up because he rises at 4:15 AM every morning to empty his lungs of his smoker’s cough, so he makes more coffee. Instead of dumping out and replacing the grounds he just adds more to the already spent beans in the ancient contraption. 

You sip the cup, thankful for the heat emanating from this thrifty brew. You can almost pull apart the fibers of this drink, it’s so silty and unfiltered, colloidal in nature with suspensions and clouds of grains and grit. It’s the only source of warmth in this rustic cabin in the middle of the wilderness, so secluded you can barely get radio stations to hear the goings-on of the world. 

It’s been so long since you’ve seen anyone without a rifle in their hands, clad in orange, with the scent of tobacco and deer urine permeating every crevice on their chapped and bleeding knuckles. 

You turn on the radio. 

Have you changed? Or has the world changed around you? You do not know, yet the answer you dare not to seek.

You add a healthy pour of your grandfather’s Jameson to the mug. The alcohol burns even more than the coffee. The lingering sting reminds you of your grandfather’s breath emanating with his warm and glowing laugh that was as contagious as a cough. 

It’s snowing, yet you are no longer cold. 

That’s what this beer tastes like. 

… You Okay, Dennis?

A flavor can take you on a journey. When I snap open a Labatt’s Blue, I can see the white cinderblock walls of the dorms covered in posters of The Dark Knight and Tupac. When I make the mistake of drinking a Rockstar energy drink I flash back to every stupid road trip my friends and I made across the country, slamming those sugar bombs to stay awake and feeling my insides petrify and preserve themselves as if in formaldehyde. 

When I drink this, I see my grandfather wearing a dirty flannel shirt, threatening to kick me in the levenklinkel (still unsure as to what that is), and telling me two eternal quotes I’ve always kept in my back pocket.

“Life is too short to give a shit.”

and,

“If you didn’t put so much cream and sugar in your coffee you could drink it black.”

No shit, Grandpa.

So, cheers to that.

Do Not Miss This Beer

This beer is utterly fantastic. If you can find a bottle of this buy it immediately, as it’s one of the top coffee imperial stouts I’ve ever had. 

This beer pairs with rustic cabins, a hearty meal made with bacon grease, fresh snowfall, and simple moments with special people. 

Every beer has a story, and I want to hear yours. Got a brew you want to share with me? I take submissions and donations to the cause! Email me at dennis@thepintsizedreview.com or shoot me a message on any of my social media accounts. You can follow me on Twitter @drinkpintsized, Instagram @thepintsizedreview, or the way your parents get their news: on Facebook. Just search “The Pint Sized Review” and you’ll find me. Donate on our Patreon, and if you can’t please like, share our posts, and join the mailing list so you always know when we are putting out some stupid stuff for a laugh and maybe, just maybe, some education. 

Peace!

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