It’s amazing that I have a bit of a breather in my usual schedule. Perhaps my slight changes in compiling calendar listings is finally catching hold? Perhaps I’m finally able to take of business late at night while still tweeting about #allstartrek. So I had a chance to look in my queue of draft articles and found I never finished this one from July 24! Yipes!
It’s 1:00 pm Sunday afternoon, the temperature is a balmy 89°, with humidity somewhere over the threshold of the laws of hydrology. But those guys and gals from Lagunitas have sent over some more beers, so I have the grill warming up for some hamburgers straight from the freezer. And besides, I also have a beer glass to take a few pictures of.
That’s three in one week from Lagunitas, and I suspect I’m on the mailing list of both the California and Chicago breweries. So please bear with me while I enjoy some free beers. While I am describing them, I will try not to let it look like I’m being objective.
Stoopid Wit is an unfiltered Belgian wheat beer, a limited release, and the first wit that I know of in a Lagunitas bottle. At 6.3% abv, it’s a little stronger than your average lawnmower beer, so I would recommend hitting this well after the chores are done.
I know my picture shows too much head for a good TV beer, but it’s hot out here, though a breeze has just come in bringing perhaps more thunderstorms. But I’m out here to do glamour shots. This beer may boil if I don’t get to it shortly. So what I have poured here is a hazy beer, with a note of gold or brass to it, hazy of course, under a rocky head. The shape of this particular glass helps concentrate a nose of easily discernible West Coast hops that are not quite in there for the Wit style, but certainly for the Lagunitas style.
The taste rolls in more like a pale ale than anything Belgian style. With most wheat beers, I can claim that the wheat in the malt gives it a note of spiciness, but that is hard to track here just because of the extra hop bill. The beer’s mouthfeel, though, is a little thicker than many summer wheats, and it has a touch of honey, or extra malt, that make this even less of a beer to have in the middle of your weekend outdoor chores. You usually expect a citrusy note just from the yeast in a wit, without having to emphasize it with a lemon slice. But Stoopid Wit has just a touch of citrus, mainly from the hops, but after a few sips, there’s a bitter aftertaste on the tongue that’s more in line with a German noble hop, or the rowdy bitterness of Northern brewers. Look at me, pretending I know my hops. Be sure to let me know if I’m full of baloney on this one, I can admit it.
This bottle does have the traditional yeast dregs at the bottom for further conditioning. As I swirled the last of the bottle into my glass, the beer became cloudier, of course. The taste became a bit brighter, like a German lager, and just a little more savory. At least there’s no “dead yeast” character here, which probably stems from having the beer fresh.
That’s enough for writing during drinking. Since all my portable electronics have a black case around them, I need to bring them inside before something melts, and finish off these pub burgers, as lunch is expected.
Once again, I’m sampling out of a Riedel Veritas beer glass, as related in a previous beer review, and in this review, too. Summarizing again: it’s a short-stemmed glass, somewhat like a Belgian tulip glass, which claims to be a sturdy glass that allows for thinner sides. This particular size is ideal for my size nose: as I tilt it to sip, my schnoz slide right in under the top of the rim so I can get a nice snootful of aroma. Your mileage will vary depending on your fondness for rhinoplasty.
