Baltika — In Russia, Beer Drinks You!
You’d think I’d learn after trying an import from Poland (“cool!”) that turned out to be their Malt Liquor (“dag nabbit!”) that trying odd Eastern European imports with labels in foreign languages is a wild gamble. But if you’ve been reading my posts so far, you now know that I never learn. Those brain cells died in a puddle of Schlitz long ago. This time, it’s from Mother Russia — Baltika Number 6, which is something called a “Baltic Porter”. In keeping with my policy of never learning, I have also not done my homework to figure out exactly what that is, but I drink on, nonetheless.
Baltika Numero Six is not bad, just off a bit. Not skunky, despite the intercontinental trip to Socal. None of the flavors are bad, though there are a LOT of them. Not too astringent, though I was expecting the first sip to dissolve my front teeth, as so often happens with extra-strong imports. But it’s just… different — an odd mismash of flavors that don’t quite all work together. Something’s just not quite right — maybe something’s lost in the translation, maybe this is what Baltic Porters are supposed to be, but I’m not buyin’ it. Why not? Check out their website – you can look up the Baltika’s official homepage for all their beers (they run from 1 through 9). For Number 6, you’ll see a strange juxtaposition of hip, modern Russian youngster spinnin’ trax on the DJ set on the left, next to this description of Baltika No. 6 on the right:
“Baltika’s porter is one of the most eminent varieties of Russian beer with a long heritage. Energy value: 60 kilocalories per 100 g of beer. Nutritional value: not more than 6.0 g of carbohydrates per 100 g of beer.”
Wow — that has to be the most arid, scientific beer slogan I’ve ever seen. Keep in mind, this is on their official website, where you’re supposed to sing the praises of your product, not post half of an AP Chemistry word problem. And it about sums it up for Baltika No. 6 — like the emergence of Russian glam rock bands after glastnost, Baltika No. 6 is just a little too alien for my taste.
First up was a crazy little number from the folks at Dogfish Head called Midas Touch. I had seen this beer in the aisle before, but never thought to actually pick it up. Why? I’ll let the description on the bottle tell you: “Handcrafted Ancient Ale with barley, honey, white muscat grapes, and saffron.” Yeah that. The brewers claim it is the oldest known beer(?) recipe. All I can say, is that there is a reason that our ancestors stopped making it. Ew. Frankly, I just couldn’t get over the taste. Somewhere between grape juice, beer, and gross. This one got the abominal one swish sinker from both SwillJockey and I. I suppose on a different day I could have had the whole thing, but at this point I was still sober. The ladies liked it for some reason, but then, there is no accounting for taste. They married us after all.
[A young woman hears a knock at her apartment door...]
Today was a day of “firsts”. The first time I ever posted a beer review and the first time I ever tried a beer made from sorghum and rice. Billed as a “crisp and refreshing session beer”, it was crisp, reasonably refreshing, and not quite like any other beer I’ve ever tasted. However, before even tasting it, I was struck by the brew’s unnusually floral scent. The crisp quality of the beer was also a secondary characteristic to the beer’s spicy finish, which was initally somewhat distracting. I can’t say that the experience was unpleasant but I was happy to limit my “session” to a single bottle.
In a move that has the stockholders in a tizzy, I’ve managed in this review to combine my heretofore unrelated themes of Nasty Malt Liquors and Imported Oddities. Today, we consider a product of the Polish brewery Okocim, a brew they named “Mocne”, which I presume is Polish for “Malt Liquor” and not some sort of slang contraction involving acne and some other body part along the lines of “bacne”. Now before you start cringing at the anticipation of Polish jokes, let me assure you that I won’t go there — I’m Irish, and I’m rating beers, often quite bad beers, so I really can’t throw stones.
Szymon are discussing. 
Skylark are discussing. 
Ivana Goodbeer 1:50 pm on August 30, 2009 Permalink
I think, if you are expecting a robust ‘beer’ taste, then it would seem nasty. But if you were expecting something along the lines of a beer flavored wine cooler, then you wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d drink it again… perhaps with a fish dinner.