Watch Jim Koch and the Samuel Adams brand reach new heights of
pretentiousness and downright silliness with Samuel Adams Triple Bock.
Its bottle is blue glass, like those of milk of magnesia and the rose
water my mother occasionally bought when I was a child. The signature
"Sam Adams" and the words "TRIPLE BOCK" underneath are painted or glazed
onto the bottle in gold; "1994 BREW RESERVE," "Samuel Adams Triple Bock,
ale brewed with maple syrup," and the addresses and government warnings
are on the opposite side in white. Plastic "foil" secures a sherry cork.
A black tag with gold lettering hangs from the neck on gold elastic.
One of the famous Sam Adams lies already: bocks are lagers, not ales.
("Triple" calls to mind a style of rich ale called "trippel," also.)
The tag includes these phrases: "should be savored like a fine cognac
or a vintage port," "complexity and nobility of a great wine," "charred
oak barrels for long and slow aging," "the cork finish preserves the
delicate flavors," "this beer is like nothing ever brewed," and an
address for a mailing list: "we'll let you know how this fine bottling
Let's see. It's June 1996, and the stuff is dated 1994, so how long
is that "long and slow aging"? People have made barleywines before:
what's unusual about this one? Shouldn't we get lead foil instead of
plastic for fifty cents an ounce for eight and a half ounces, or is
Koch saving us from heavy-metal poisoning? Is a (porous) cork really
better than a (solid) metal cap, and what's a "cork finish"?
Thick syrup glued the cork (finish?) to the bottle but gave way
readily. I poured what looked like dark brown sherry into a wide tumbler:
no unequivocal aroma of hops or maple syrup, just alcohol, raisins, and
perhaps madeira. No carbonation.
Until I noticed the sherry cork (finish) I'd expected a barleywine: very
strong, very hoppy to try to balance a vast malty sweetness, carbonation
light but definite. (Thomas Hardy's Ale is in that style; I've brewed
several batches of barleywine myself, using sherry yeast: it can survive
18% or so of alcohol and keeps the sugar in check.) What I got was a bit
like tawny port with that spoiled-wine madeira taste added, suitable
alcohol, an aftertaste with a faint sherry nuttiness and an acrid tone
possibly from hops, and viscosity more from malt dextrins than from sugars.
I couldn't detect that slight gluey flavor unique to maple syrup, not at
all. I muddled through a hodgepodge of flavors dominated by raisins, port,
madeira, and malt syrup more or less in harmony: "complex" indeed, or
perhaps "multiple-personality disorder."
This is a unique drink, and not acutely unpleasant: is it worth the
money? No. After all, I paid $4.25 for my 250-ml bottle of Samuel Adams
Triple Bock, and for $12.75 I could buy a 750-ml bottle of real sherry
from Spain, real port from Portugal, real madeira from Madeira, or some
good tawny port from Australia: none of these would be the best of their
kind, but any would be a better drink. Almost any beer I can think of
costs less per ounce, including the Swiss barleywine Samichlaus, Trappist
ales, and those Belgian lambics.
Who is Mr. Koch appealing to, apart from poseurs, fools, and the
curious (in various senses of the word)? Beer lovers will want something
to balance that sweetness. I suggest the expectorant guaifenesin: it's
very bitter indeed. Include some dextromethorphan hydrobromide, fit that
blue bottle with a screw-cap and change its shape, and one has Samuel
Adams Triple Bock-tussin DM, the world's best-tasting cough syrup. As
the label might put it, "Sip the two tablespoonsful of your dose, savor
the aroma and complexity, marvel at the perfect balance between bitterness
and sweetness. Don't overindulge. The next time you have a cough, note
how this unique medicine has developed and matured over time."