Friday Brew Review: Wachusett Milk Stout
Sometimes we need to drink.
When we’re dissatisfied with our jobs. When it seems as though we’re stuck in limbo, neither ascending into the honey-sweet halls of Valhalla nor descending into the darkest depths of the liberating Lake of Fire. When our wheels are spinning without taking us damn near anywhere worth goin’ to.
Sometimes we need to drink.
When we want to warm our faces with synthesized satisfaction. When it’ll help us enjoy a movie by chopping chop down those imaginative barriers that go up when we become adults. When we want to forget about our broken spirits. When we want to fill our gullets with something tasty.
Sometimes we need to drink.
When we’re writing irresponsible blogs posts – not because we have to, but because it makes us happy.
Sometimes we need to drink.
Tonight, I need a drink. And so, I’m sipping on the Wachusett Brewing Company’s Milk Stout.
As is my pre-drankin’ ritual, I visited the brewery’s website to get educated about the beer of the ev’nin’. However, I think the brewery is much more interested in producin’ brews than designin’ websites, because the description offered is quite skimpy:
The deliciously darkest beer we’ve ever made is one of the easiest drinkers we’ve ever brewed.
With sweet, malty flavor and a creamy full body, our Milk Stout is the perfect cold weather beer.
Well, I usually like a bit more to go on before I start sampling, but I suppose there’s something to be said for letting the beer speak for itself.
Taking a whiff of this Milk Stout, I detected a hybrid beast of smoky-and-sweet. Although there’s nary a trace of bitterness to be found, an unmistakable alcoholic inkling does creep its way onto the olfactory-scene, reminding the drinker that this is an adult beverage. In essence, the bouquet is deep and rich and enticing as all hell.
Visually, Milk Stout is a bottomless pit from which no light can escape. Having poured it into a standard drinkin’ glass, I held the brew up to a lamp to investigate whether or not any ancillary hues would appear. They didn’t. With the exception of the creme-colored cap, the stout appearance could be aptly described as SINISTER BEER-ABYSS.
Okay, time to drink.
Milk Stout touts a taste that is, in a word, deadly. The beer is dark and rich, but also includes a strong sugary element. The result is a swirling of sweetness that’s never saccharine and roasted without being caustic. As an aftertaste, there is a touch of cocoa hitting the back of my throat, which is sure to please those beer drinkers unaccustomed to imbibing Lord Drunkard’s murky waters. Moreover, all of this is delivered via a texture that is quite light for a stout, going down easy and leaving room for more.
So what’s the verdict? Well, Milk Stout is well-balanced and flavorful and potent enough to serve as my drink of the evening. Which is great, because the fact of the matter is that sometimes we need to drink. And when we drink, let’s drink fine brews.
B+