Schlenkerla Eiche 2010
Holy shit, I was unprepared for the magnificence of this beer. Let me preface with the statement that this beer is among my favorites of all time, especially in the smoke category. But speaking of time, I had no idea that it cellared this well. If I had, I'd have bought a case in 2010. It's a more tempered, balanced smoke than the other Schlenkerla offerings (due to oak rather than beech) and commands a slightly more premium price (same reason). This 5-year vintage costs even a bit more due to the costs of storage, but it's a pittance for what you're getting, just trust me.
Appearance is a red mahogany with suspended stuff which looks like maybe carbonation at first but is actually delicious, delicious dirt. Even smelling the bottle after I prized off the slightly rusty cap, it had the nose of a world-class, top quality Rauchbier, which it is. Smells like the deep forest, maybe like decaying wood. Or like barbecue. People always say Rauchbier smells like bacon, but for Pete's sake people, show a little variety in your lexicon. First off, almost no beer actually smells like bacon. (Excluding that one I tried that was made with ham bone, but that's another matter entirely). Secondly, I was reading that English simply lacks a lot of words for tastes and smells which are identifiable by humans (and which exist in some other, perhaps more obscure languages). Absent the words to give voice to our perceptions, it would seem these flavors cease to exist, in an Orwellian puff of (oak) smoke, but they don't, and you'll just have to take my (lack of) word for it that this beer smells fucking great.
Taste is actually a bit easier. First and foremost, it's unabashedly a Doppelbock, and this comes through very clearly, even more to with aging. It's got that characteristic malt sweetness and hint of apple-juice character that I think comes from lager yeast, but don't quote me—those strains are know for being clean and relatively ester-free. It's got serious body, which as I've said time and again, until people roll their eyes and management starts making hand signals to the security staff, is crucial to a smoky beer, otherwise the smoke is acrid and unpalatable. It's also got a lot of wood, but smoke is here in spades as well, in addition to a character that I would liken to Parmasean cheese, but of course it doesn't actually taste like cheese. Boy would this pair well with cheese though. I'm talking a hard 1000-day Gouda. Not a smoked Gouda you rube—don't pair things which taste alike! But if smoke and Gouda go well enough together to justify smoking Gouda, you can bet a smoky beer will go well with an un-smoky Gouda, if you catch my drift. And the smoke is almost acrid; it's big and bold and tastes like a victorious day spent tending a Brinkmann charcoal smoker. Which is hard to do, and I'm terrible at it, so this beer exists for people like me.
If you like New Holland's Charkoota Rye (which gets aged in brandy barrels these days), you'll like this, and vice versa. Very similar beers, though I gather Charkoota is made with rye (of course this is also wordplay). If you don't like smoky things, you will absolutely hate this beer, so don't even try. Next time I'm at the store, I'm going to buy a couple of current year ones (I didn't get one this past time because I have a decent recollection of what this tastes like fresh) and stick them in my beer cellar.
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