Popping the top and giving it a sniff: It smells of molasses with a dark undertone of yeast and toasted malt.

Taking that first wonderful swig:  Sweet dark malt, molasses, pecan and walnut notes, sting of hops, smooth bitter finish.  One of the best Porters I’ve ever had.  But, dare I say, is it better than Okocim Polish Porter, which has been up until now my favorite beer in the world?

Let’s test!  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a bonus section!  Here, for the first time ever, I bring to you the GroovyBrew.com Head-to-Head Porter Smackdown!

Gonzo: Lighter. More fizz.

Okocim: Thicker and richer, not so much fizz.

Gonzo: Better high notes.

Okocim: More complex tail end, sweeter finish.

Gonzo: Sweeter up front, more black coffee at the finish.

Okocim: Definitely smoother.

Gonzo: More for swilling, more likely to drink one after another.

Okocim: More for sipping and savoring.  Less likely to down one after another.

Gonzo: 12 oz. bottle for about $2.50 (Chicago area price).

Okocim: A bit over a pint (500ml) for about $2.50 (Chicago area price).

Gonzo: 7.8% alcohol.

Okocim: 8.3% alcohol.

Gonzo (final impression): Would happily drink it every day.

Okocim (final impression): Would save it for an occasional treat.

WINNER BY A MARGIN: Flying Dog Gonzo Imperial Porter!

Seriously, they’re both wonderful beers, and I love both of them, but all in all I’d have to rate the Flying Dog “.1” more.  So since I’ve given Okocim a 9.8 on the Holy Grail Scale, I must then award Flying Dog’s Gonzo Imperial Porter a 9.9!

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the closest to the Holy Beer I have yet found!

That’s a pretty bold statement coming from a “hoppin’ frog.”  Let’s put it to the test.

I pop the top of this bad boy.  It’s a tall bottle, 1 Pint & 6 oz., and I decide to pour it into a mug instead of imbibing it directly from the bottle.  But first I take a sniff to see what we’re dealing with here.

It smells like hops and dark roasted malt, and it pours like well-used motor oil.  I’m not kidding.  This brew is thick, viscous, and absolutely black, with a dark brown head.  (I don’t remember ever seeing a head this dark.)  I have no choice but to wonder: What the hell am I getting myself into? 

It’s either going to be outrageously good, or abysmal.

First sip.  Initial taste is sweet black coffee.  Smooth, heavy, and rich.  Sting of hops, quickly pummeled by the taste of oatmeal with brown sugar.  That reigns for a good long while until it fades under a layer of burnt toast, and then finally the resurgence of a strong wash of hoppy bitterness.

Not only is this a groovy brew, it’s a very groovy brew, and I grant it a outrageously high 9 (nine!) on the Holy Grail scale.

I also have to rate it as a OMFG beer.  “Oatmeal freaking good,” of course.  Heh.

Consider me destroyed.  After downing this entire bottle of 10.6% (roughly 21 Proof) ale, I can no longer feel my face.

That’s just freaking awesome. Why can’t my photo program do that? I mean, come on, a word processor is showing up professional photo software! Corel, please, get your act together. Microsoft is kicking your pants.

Okay, back to the ale. This ale is awesome. Someone recommended it to me and I am glad I took them up on it. From the masters at Hook Norton Brewery in Oxfordshire comes this, a traditional English ale, with the motto: "Where progress is measured in pints."

Pop the top, take a whiff, and you smell golden malt, a drift of hops, and a touch of yeast.

Take a sip, and it turns to a gulp. I’m having to sound the gulp alert on this one. It tastes so smooth and refined that your body just automatically says, "Okay, open up, we’re taking it all in one go!"

Force yourself to stop. Take a cleansing breath. Sip.

It’s fruity, smooth, refined, and smooth. Did I mention refined? And smooth? It’s those things. The crystal malt is coming from somewhere on a higher plane. The beer sings, either that or it melted my brain. One of the two, or perhaps both. Exquisite is about all I can come up with.

I hereby proclaim this to be a groovy brew and a holy beer contender, and rate it a high 8.0 on the Holy Grail Scale. Also, I’m wishing I’d gotten more than one bottle.

But, really, in the grand scheme of things, it’s better that I didn’t.

I’m renting this wonderful little place on a corner lot … on an island.  Think about that for a second.  A corner lot on an island.  It’s where the beach turns a corner.

On the very corner of this island is another little island, just big enough for a medium sized tree and a hammock.  I am on that hammock.

There are no big waves on this side.  If there were, it might take me out.  But it’s nice and calm, and instead of booming and hissing, the water here is calm and makes little wet lapping sounds.  In the distant there’s the occasional cry of a seagull, about once every 92 seconds, like clockwork.

Popping off the cap with the opener on my key chain, I relax here, taking in this calm Zen moment in the whirlwind of my life, and take a deep sniff of the Green Flash Barleywine.

Nothing.  I can hardly smell anything.  I don’t know if that’s because of this brew, or if it has something to do with the functioning of my nose at this moment.  (Or should I say, non-functioning?)

I take a deep breath, clear my mind, and raise the heavy bottle to my lips.  The first sip is wonderfully malty – it tastes of toasty malt, very much like a biscuit, all swallowed up in a wave of tingly bubbles.  Next is a passage of a vodka, alcohol taste, something to let me know this brew means serious business.  Then again, this is barleywine – if it didn’t have a serious alcohol punch, there’d be something wrong with it.

After that, it finishes with a nice rising tide of hoppy bitterness.  Very good.  Indeed, it’s delicious.  And it’s perfect for enjoying on a hammock on the sea shore.

I’d give this a decent 6 on the Holy Grail scale and proclaim it an official groovy brew.

This review transcribed from handwritten notes taken in 2009.

The moment I open the back door, the one that faces the woods, the howling stops. There is, of course, a full moon above. It’s bright enough to see the wooden porch and a ways into the forest, but beyond that the forest has become a tangle of dim light and a million dark shadows. Above, in the big old oak that towers over my place, an owl hoots. Not a friendly hoot, either — it sounds like it’s telling me off.

I duck back inside, shut and locked the door (like locking it makes me safer from a werewolf) and … you guessed it … the howling starts again.

Okay. Fine. Howl away, damn werewolf. I’m getting a beer.

I root around the fridge and pull out this Utenos Porter. Fitting, somehow. Sounds like the perfect name for a beer to drink while there’s a werewolf outside.

Remember, beware the moors.

I pop the top and give this bad boy a sniff. It smells strongly of sweet dark malt and molasses.

I raise the bottle to my lips, tip it back for that first sip. It’s both milder, and thinner, than I’d expected. The taste of the alcohol is strong. There’s a good balance between sweet and dark bread. And, somewhere, there seems to be some hops thrown into the mix.

Very good. Not outstanding, but good. A solid, yummy brew.

Outside the howling has stopped again. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not — I’m half expecting to hear it right outside my window.

Beware the moors!

I’ll give this a 4.4 on the Holy Grail scale and proclaim it to be a groovy brew. As I sit here and finish it, I’ll be thinking about the fact that I have no gun in the house, let alone any silver bullets.

This review transcribed from handwritten notes taken in 2009.

Let me try and set the scene…

I’m sitting in a pretty much round room, looking out a huge curved window at palm fronds swaying in the island breeze.  My attention is torn between the beer sitting here on the desk, and the beautiful water in front of me, swirling in light and dark patterns as gentle swells wash the sand of the lagoon.  Some of the palms lean far out over the water, looking like they might just drop over.  Over on the side of the building are four full-sized replicas of moai monoliths (you know, those big, creepy-cool Easter Island heads).  If I look out a side window, I see one staring back at me.

To say that the beauty here is surreal would be an understatement.

Add to that, the radio behind me is playing this really odd, yet catchy dance song, with a clearly mechanical robot voice chanting “disco dance in your sexy panties” and “wear your sexy pants just for me.”

I tear my eyes away from the view, pop open the beer, and walk out to the porch with a pad of paper and a pencil.

It smells like molasses and vodka.  Now, that may not sound like a good combination, but in this case it is.  It smells interesting, and I mean that in a positive way.

I take the first sip, tilt my head back and savor it.  The first thing that hits me is the taste of well toasted oats and barley, aerated by light but satisfying carbonation.  It finishes off with a nice bitterness that reminds me in an odd way of the charred skin on barbecued chicken. 

Later, the bottle empty, it leaves me satisfied and happy.  In all, the flavor is well balanced, and I enjoyed so much I’m awarding it the status of Holy Beer Contender and rating it 2.3 on the Holy Grail Scale.

This review transcribed from handwritten notes taken in 2009.

You can listen to this review.

It’s the first ever GroovyBrew podcast!

Brought to you by Lagunitas Brewing and the Firesign Theater, not to mention the Zoom H2 Recorder, and featuring music by TranceVision.

Just for the record, this is one wildly groovy brew, and also a solid Holy Beer contender.

It rates a 7.77 on the Holy Grail Scale.

It’s most definitely a groovy brew.

I am pretty sure I saw this Polish beer when I was in Helsinki earlier this year, but I didn’t try it.

Now here I am in Chicagoland and, well, I can’t resist a good Porter.  I just hope this is a good Porter.

Smells good.  Deep, dark, sweet, slightly yeasty.

First sip:  Delicious.

There’s a smooth, umber richness that is hard to pin down.  It’s sweet and malty, not much if any hops, and the carbonation disappeared almost immediately.  There’s a citrus edge that mellows into a walnut taste, riding over that Porter sweetness that is like beer candy.  It’s not really chocolaty as much as it is a kind of roasted caramel.

I love this stuff.  I think I’ve finally decided that Porters, especially a Baltic Porter like this one, is my favorite type of beer.

I’m going to proclaim Okocim a Holy Beer Contender, and give it a extremely high 9.8 on the Holy Grail Scale. I am really, truly close to just calling this the Holy Beer.  But, no.  I have other groovy brews to try.  Best not to be over enthusiastic, and to give it more time.  But at the moment this is definitely my favorite beer.

Life is good.

Drink good brew.

Groovy.

Right up front I’ll say I don’t like this one as much as I did the Okocim.  It’s not as smooth nor as sweet.  But unlike the other, Zywiec seems to have some hops in it.  It tastes of robust, burnt rye, black roasted malts, caramel syrup, and toasted wheat.

And hops.  There are definitely hops in this one.  They give it a sharp, bitter ping right up front, fading to a hint of clove and a clamoring background of more hops bitterness.  The burnt malt taste rises somewhere in the middle of this, cresting with a sweetness, before falling back to the bitter.

A complex taste, yes.  And I don’t like the hint of clove.

Clove does not belong in beer.

That’s my opinion.

Had I not been already spoiled by the Okocim I would probably have rated this Porter higher, but as it stands I would still mark it down as a Holy Beer Contender, but only give it maybe a 5.6 on the Holy Grail Scale.

I mean, it’s still good.  No, still delicious.  Even with the hint of clove.

This limited release beer is as totally over the top as you’d expect from Lagunitas Brewing Company.

Imagine going to Starbucks and ordering a beer.

This would be it. Cappuccino Stout.

I drank two of these without writing a single word. I didn’t want to be bothered. The brew demanded all my attention.

This beer is for someone who drinks black strong coffee straight up. No cream. No sugar.

This beer is for someone who has turned so jaded that everything tastes the same and has blended into a grey muck, and life has turned dim, and all pretty women look like hard plastic. It’s for someone who can’t stand to turn on a radio because the entire spectrum makes you gag. You want to smash cell phones, you want to wreck your car on purpose, you want to set fire to a bank.

This beer is for you.

It will realign your Universe, reset your brain, and help you regain your love of humanity. This beer will pull you back from the brink. This beer will help you breathe.

This beer will help you create.

This beer will give you the urge to put on big heavy boots and stomp around in the mud, laughing hysterically, and roll around on the floor with a puppy.

This beer just might save your life.

I hereby proclaim it a Groovy Brew and rate it 8.1 on the Holy Grail Scale. Get it while you can, it’s seasonal, and it’s disappearing fast.