Beer O'Clock: When In Winter...

Only in Ottawa can we go from above from above the freezing point, where we're wearing a sweater and a down-filled vest, to a deep freeze, where our parka just doesn't seem warm enough, in less than two days.

Welcome to winter.

Luckily, we Ottawans are a hearty bunch. When the snow has fallen and the wind chill makes the temperature feel like –20°C, we can head out and shovel our driveways, and break out in a sweat.

The best reward for enduring the bitter cold is to come inside, eat a chicken pot pie, and wash it down with a fine beer. But in winter, not any beer will do.

Enter this week's selection, from Québec, aptly named for this season.

Solstice d'hiver (Winter Solstice)
Brasserie Dieu du Ciel!
St-Jérôme, QC
Broue Ha Ha: $9.99 (plus tax, deposit), 4 x 341ml; 10.2% ABV
Beer O'Clock rating: 3.5 out of 5

This beer, a barley wine, is brewed in July and then aged for five or six months. As its name implies, it is released on December 21^st—winter solstice. And with its hearty flavours and high alcohol content, it is a perfect winter ale.

Dieu du Ciel is also planning to release this "vintage" again this coming June 21 (its one-year anniversary) and again on the next winter solstice, the anniversary of its release.

A deep, murky, copper-brown colour with a creamy, beige head, I immediately detected a caramel nose with clove and some nutmeg. The spice carries through on the palate with slightly sweet toffee.

There is a great hoppy finish with lingering alcohol that isn't overpowering, despite it's high content.

This is a nice barley wine—the nicest I've had—but I wouldn't want to drink more than one in a sitting. The second time I tried it (after my initial tasting and review notes), I split the bottle with Lori while we had some homemade chicken pot pie. The beer was a great match. And it was a great way to reward myself after shovelling the driveway.

I plan to keep my remaining two bottles to open on June 21^st and December 21^st. I may provide an update.

Sliante!

A Little Taste of Muskoka

I love seasonal beers. They pop up on the shelves of our local beer or liquor stores, arouse our curiosity, make us want to take them home. We do, and we either fall in love with them or we don't. If we don't, no problem: they won't be cluttering valuable shelf space for long.

But if we find a real treat, something we love, we only have a short time in which we can enjoy them. And so we make the most of them. Cherish them, because they won't be around for long.

So far this season, I haven't met a beer I didn't like. Lucky me!

My latest find, which I love, is one of those beers that I will cherish until I can no longer find it.

Double Chocolate Cranberry Stout

Winter Beard

Muskoka Brewery Inc.

Bracebridge, ON

LCBO: $10.95, 750 ml; 8% alc/vol

What first drew my attention to this beer was the size of the bottle. You've gotta love a beer that comes in a vessel the size of a wine bottle. At 750 ml and eight-percent alcohol, you know that one bottle should do you. For now. Moderation, folks: please drink responsibly.

The bottle has a pop stopper (I think that's the technical term), so you can pour yourself an ample glass, replace the top, and preserve the fizz. And trust me: you're going to want to have this in a glass so that you can marvel at the rich, deep brown and red colours. Pouring this beer into a glass, you can sense the richness.

The folks at Muskoka Brewery are clever. On their Web site, they recommend that you serve this beer at 9°C. Having made the mistake in the past of drinking my beer when it was too cold, I took the bottle out of the refrigerator and let it sit for almost an hour before I opened it: still cool, but not chilled. At this temperature, I was able to appreciate the bouquet and smell the rich, dark chocolate. Made with roasted dark chocolate malts and 70% dark chocolate, this beer truly lives up to its name.

The chocolate carries through boldly on the palate, where you also feel the roasted malt. There is a faint burnt oak flavour that warms the mouth, most likely the higher alcohol. But the alcohol is tempered with the added cranberries, and so the alcohol on its own is not distinct; it blends well, leaving a nice, long finish with a hint of tart fruit.

This is a stout to enjoy with a hearty stew or a mild chili. This is also a winter beer to savour in front of a warm fire on a cold winter's night.

I'll be sure to do that, if I ever see one of those. Winter hasn't yet taken hold in Ottawa.

This is a wonderful seasonal beer, one that will be available until mid-February. Cherish it while you can.

Brain Freeze

I miss my great aunt, Mae. My Aunt Mae, or Auntie Mae, or—as we affectionately called her—Annie Mae.

Annie Mae was my mother's mother's sister. For most of her life, she lived in Montreal, but she never missed an opportunity to come to Ottawa to visit her nieces, my mom and my Aunt Joyce. And, of course, she visited with her great nieces and nephews—my sisters, my brother, and my cousins. And me.

One of the things we loved the most about Annie Mae, apart from the amazing fudge she'd bring or make during her stay, was her twisted sense of humour (no jokes were censored) and her quirky expressions: budado for potato; bunker for kitchen counters; affie-gans for afghan sweaters. Whenever she said any of these, it was all we could do to surpress our snickers.

I'll also never forget a conversation she and I had, once, when I was in my teens. It was winter, and I was heading out, either to head to school or to meet with a friend. I put my boots on, zipped up my jacket, and headed for the door. As I reached the door, Annie Mae called out to me.

"Put a touque on," she said.
"I'm good," I replied. "It's not that cold out." Also, I thought but didn't say, it's not cool to wear headgear.
"You'll freeze your brain," Annie Mae warned.
"Huh?"
"Yes, you'll freeze your brain. I read about it in the newspaper. These kids were skiing and they weren't wearing hats. Halfway down the slope, they dropped dead. Their brains were frozen."

I didn't know if this was that twisted sense of humour of hers, going into overdrive. I left the house, without a touque.

And my brain didn't freeze.

But if you want to wear a touque this winter and make it look like you're exposing your grey matter to the cold, here's one way to do it:

I miss you, Annie Mae. I think you would have loved this hat.

Too Cold For Beer?

Now that November is approaching the halfway mark, it's time that we start thinking about preparing for the cold weather. Actually, it's beyond that time, but with the unusually warm weather we've enjoyed in Ottawa this month, sometimes it's hard to think about snow, even though we can be under a foot or so of it at this time of the year.

When it comes to beer, we sometimes think of one with a good full body. Something that will give us comfort in this cooler climate. And that's why this weekend, I tried a winter ale. St. Peter's Winter Ale. 

Only, I screwed it up. I'll tell you why in a second, but here are my initial tasting notes.

St. Peter's Winter Ale (Strong Ale): $3.95 for a 500 ml bottle at the LCBO; 6.5% alcohol/volume.

• Colour: cola brown; slight highlights of red
• Nose: light herbs and yeast; not much to pick up
• Taste: slight tones of rye bread; not much spice
• Body: light; not what I'd expect from a winter ale, but easy-drinking; slightly sweet finish; no alcohol overtones (that's a good thing!)

I was a little disappointed by the apparent lack of flavours. Although it wasn't bad, it wasn't great. It was very easy-drinking; too easy-drinking.

And then it dawned on me: this is an English ale, a real ale. The problem with this beer wasn't how it was made, it was how I had served it. The bottle had been in the refrigerator all day. The beer was cold. Too cold.

Before I finished my first pint, I removed my second bottle of the ale from the fridge and let it warm at room temperature. But sadly, when I opened and consumed the second bottle, it was still too cold, even though it had sat for an hour before I poured it in my glass.

And so, the next day, I returned to the LCBO and bought more, but didn't refrigerate it at all before opening it. And it was like having a different beer. The body was fuller, the aromas more intense, with added hints of chocolate. On the palate, the rye bread was more pronounced, with more flavours of hops thrown in.

This was a great beer.

I imagine that the LCBO won't have this ale in stock for long, so I suggest you grab some soon. But do yourself a favour. Don't put it in your fridge. Drink it at room temperature.

After all, it's getting cold enough outside.

If there's condensation on the bottle, it's way to cold!