Part of a new lineup from Molson, Fireside uses seven malt varieties to mirror the seven generations during which Molson has been active in Canada. Landing somewhere between a Dunkel and a Schwarzbier, the body contains elements of dark rye, molasses, and hazelnut syrup in addition to a mild walnutty tannic astringency. Perhaps overcomplicated, but worth a flutter.
Big Drop’s Stout is more successful than the Pale/Blanche , emulating the already existing Milk Stout style. The lactose can express itself traditionally. We have sweet dark chocolate in addition to a tobacco-like herbal quality above a smoky roast malt astringency. It features all the flavour of a full alcohol milk stout despite the lower ABV at 0.4%.
Big Drop focuses on the non-alcoholic segment, although their products are technically 0.4% ABV most of the time. Fermented rather than de-alcoholized, the secret to the texture is lactose, which adds enough texture to replace the alcohol. The Pale Ale features a split between North-American grapefruit bitterness and English herbal greenery, making this a rarity: a non-alcoholic beer with flavour.
Of late, Folly has helped pioneer Kveik (individual strains of Norwegian farmhouse ale yeast) in the Canadian market. Fresh Money uses the Arset blend, creating fruity esters in the aroma somewhere between windfall pear and jackfruit. The body is crisp and clean, with a gentle grain character that takes a backseat to the fruitiness. A rounded and practical application of an esoteric Norwegian treatment.
Named for a Russian signal station, this radio sweetheart is an Imperial Stout by way of the freezer aisle: Strictly neapolitan. The nose is madagascar vanilla, dehydrated strawberry, and hershey syrup, but the body is milkshake thick, leaning into bitter dark chocolate and a bourbon barrel sweetness that lingers slightly longer than it would take that ice cream to melt. As novelty Russian Imperials go, this one is a winner.
As a style featuring hybrid fermentation, Cream Ale tends to feature oddball esters. Grove’s is no exception. The nose is somewhere between peach and green strawberry, and the robust, slightly husky grain character provides a slightly rustic finish with a retro-nasal hint of cucumber. Reminiscent of Genesee, the exemplar of the style.
There is infrequently anything subtle about Blood Brothers, from the voodoo inspired taproom down to the individual flavour profiles of their beers. White Lies is no exception, leaning hard into sourness. The acidity here is bolstered by a lemon-lime hop character and slightly undercuts the sweetness of the Riesling grapes. On the whole, though, this is a fine afternoon refresher or aperitif.