The return of the fighting Octopus 

(And the coming of the New England IPAs)

My Ego was reluctant to drop $100 on just 28 cans of beer, especially after my Super Ego cautioned his partner in the power trio that runs my brain. "Whoa dude. Are you sure about this?"

My Id, however, had the deciding vote and gave the purchase the green light, pointing out (rather snarkily) to his scaredy cat brothers that we would be buying some of the greatest beers ever produced in this fine province.

A case of 24 of Octopus Wants to Fight IPA ($78) from Great Lakes Brewery - only my reigning Beer of the Year - and a four-pack of Immodest ($22) from Nickel Brook - a world class Imperial IPA and long-time favourite - went home with me, despite all the arguing going on between my Freudian friends.

24 delicious Octopus
Wants to Fight IPA

What choice did they really have anyway? As I mentioned, Octopus Wants to Fight was my 2016 Beer of the Year, and this Mosaic-hopped IPA was my Mid-Summer Beer of the Year that year as well. I waxed poetic about it many other times, including its battle with Ballast Point's Sculpin IPA (Undersea IPA Challenge), which Octopus naturally won, and The Last of the Octopus, in which I naturally lost. Just to name a few.

I really liked this beer.

(I must admit that my first reference to Octopus wasn't about the beer at all. In an IPA Tales blog from 2014 - R.I.P. Paul the Octopus - I mourned the loss of El Pulpo, a real octopus and resident of Oberhausen, Germany, who correctly predicted the outcome of eight straight World Cup soccer matches in 2010 before expiring, shortly after Spain's historic win in the championship game. But I digress.)

In any event, I had to spring for the whole case anyway, because the return of Octopus is a big deal around these parts and despite what you may have heard, it's not always about me. When GLB posted about its annual release I  had to share it, and the response from friends near and far was the same: send us some.

Trevor. The World's Sexiest Cellarman

GLB gave the beer the full LCBO treatment (as well they should), so we here in rainy Southern Ontario had easy access to this 6.2 per cent ode to the hop. But my friend Trevor (The World's Sexiest Cellarman) had no such opportunity, as he had left his post at Manantler Brewery in Bowmanville to make a new start on Canada's Left Coast with Russell Brewing of Surrey, B.C.

(As he is doing much the same work for Russell as he performed for Manantler, I can only assume he has taken his honoured title with him, though I have not yet confirmed this fact.)

So "send me some" meant mail him some, while he worked on sending me a few of the Vancouver area's finest hop bombs. Intra-Provincial #beersaint duties, you could say, though I class it more on the humanitarian scale.

It took a day or two longer than I hoped to get Trevor's care package in the mail, which was partly due to general procrastination and partly to finding the right wrapping paper. I found wrap at a local convenience store that said "may your life together blossom with love" and thought it most appropriate.

But the important thing is the beer is on its way, leaving me time to start working on the rest of the 24. And I'm going to try to keep all of them to myself, though I will save a few for you if you want to pop over.

Immodest Imperial India Pale Ale
from Nickel Brook Brewery

And you should, because this beer is so good. The aroma didn't seem quite so pronounced as it did last year - maybe I've been spoiled by Bellwood's Ghost Orchid and all those fantastic smelling New England IPAs I've been enjoying this spring - but the taste was just as fantastic as I remembered. Mango, pineapple, juicy citrus and a delicious bitterness to excite the tongue.

You really should pop over.

But it's too late for the Immodest. I only bought four, and I saved them for evenings when my parental and motor vehicle responsibilities were satisfied, a smart move considering the 9.5 per cent alcohol in each glorious can.

Nickel Brook used an 'obscene' amount of Citra and Simcoe hops (their word, but I agree) to deliver the flavour in this beer. Aromas of grapefruit and pineapple give way to creamy pine notes and a solid caramel malt backbone on the way down. A truly extraordinary beer.

I need to get more.

I also vow to listen to my Id more often. He's way more fun than those other two guys.

Brewing murky IPA magic - New England and Milkshake style 

It looks like orange juice with extra pulp and tastes so juicy you want it every day for breakfast.

Vermont. Spritual home
of New England IPAs

Surprisingly, not everyone is a fan of New England-style, the newest rage in IPAs. Something about the cloudy, even murky unfiltered appearance turns them off, I guess.

That's crazy talk, if you ask me. I think New England IPAs are fantastic.

Besides the aforementioned appearance, the style is noted for its incredible juiciness and for being decidedly less bitter than their West Coast counterparts.

My first New England IPA (sometimes referred to as Vermont Style) was just eight months ago and I've only had four three since. Each one has been exceptional.

My first, Bronan IPA from High Road Brewing of Niagara-on-the-lake, was a revelation. Enjoyed last summer at Beer Bistro in downtown Toronto on the way to FanExpo, it was juicy and dank at the same time and piqued my desire for more of this style.

I found Aromatherapy (Beyond the Pale of Ottawa) in the fridge at Buster Rhino's a week or so later and discovered a beer that was juicy and piney with an amazing aroma.

Before the year was out I was drinking Juicin from Sawdust City, a beer that ticked off all the world class beer boxes for me and was even a finalist for IPA of the Year in my year-end column. 

Juicin from Sawdust City

It had a mind-blowing aroma of peach and tropical citrus and was all resin, orange and peach on the tongue. Juicy and very tasty.

I loved it, and so did the rest of the patrons at the bar. Darryl, the bright-eyed and brisket-loving boss at Buster Rhino's, stocked up on cases of the stuff and they were all consumed before the holidays were over. 

I didn't think that could be topped, but then I had Somewhere Down in Moxee from Great Lakes Brewery last month. Bold and beautiful with mango, tropical fruit and resiny citrus fairly bursting from the glass. Super delicious.

Naysayers be damned. Keep making more of this style.

If New England IPAs are the rage, Milkshake IPAs are the curiosity of the moment. They are, essentially, New England-style IPAs with the addition of lactose, giving the beer a creamy texture.

Both styles boast 'juicy' as a common descriptive and there is, in fact, some confusion in the craft beer world, with some sources lumping them all in one category.

(I checked with my local expert in all things beer, Matthew of Brewer Pantry fame, and he confirmed that lactose - and usually vanilla as well - sets Milkshake IPAs apart from their Vermont brethren.)

I've had two of the Milkshake varieties, though my first one was Boys to the Yard, which was Manantler Brewery turning an already unconventional style on its head. Just to add to the confusion.

This was a Banana Chocolate Milkshake IPA and possibly the world's first Milkshake Black IPA. Super tasty and very different.

Then Bellwoods entered the picture, and this was a game changer. Milkshark IPA was ostensibly a milkshake version of their popular Witchshark Imperial IPA, with lactose and vanilla added and the alcohol tweaked down to seven per cent.

Milkshark from Bellwoods.
A game-changing Milkshake IPA

This was seriously great breakfast food. Stick a straw in it, call it a pineapple smoothie and I wouldn't bat an eye. It tasted like creamy pineapple yogurt, with a sweet vanilla kick at the end. It's a dessert beer like no other, because it's also a juicy and tropical IPA. So good.

I want more of this beer too.

But back to the New England-style IPAs for a moment, as there was supposed to be a another example of this delicious style for me to enjoy. On a previous visit to Matt's sumptuous underground lair in Bowmanville (Dark Lord Night), I remember gazing longingly at the homebrew that was coming to life in his living room.

"That's a New England-style IPA," he said. "I'll try and save you some when it's ready."

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I get a message from Matt. "It's ready," he said. "I'll try and save you a bottle, as long as Jess doesn't drink it first."

I saw Jessica, Matt's better half and my boss at Buster Rhino's, a couple of days after this conversation and she assured me there was still some left. The next day, after I repeated my question, she told me the sad news.

It was all gone. And she said this without a single trace of guilt.

Good thing she is one of my favourite people in the world and super easy to forgive.

Cheers!