I have drank my share of big beer over the years. Barley Wines, Tripels, Quadrupels, Eisbocks and so on. As have most of you, probably. But then there is the category of really big beer. Beer that defy traditional definitions of beer. I am talking about the Sam Adams Utopias, the Schorschbrau Schorschbock series, Mikkeller‘s bigger beers, and, of course, Brewdog’s End of History and Tactical Nuclear Penguin. The latter beer has been made available in Alberta recently – in very rare quantities. That makes it the strongest beer ever available in the province (and in Canada, to my knowledge).

TNP also has the infamy of being the beer that cause the short-lived ban on beer over 11.9% alcohol. The ALCB people freaked when they saw the application to list it, and in reaction banned everything 12% and higher. Due to the efforts of beer aficionados and craft brewers, the ban was quickly overturned and translated into an extra taxation levy. Still, it is an interesting sidebar.

But the main story is that this beer is honking big. 32% alcohol, for which it briefly held the title as world’s strongest beer. I have long suspected that beer in this extreme category are likely not all that palatable. In part because the process used to make them that strong – freeze distillation – also concentrates any minute flaws in the original beer.

However, I am a beer journalist, which means if a historic and one-of-a-kind beer comes across my path, I must try it. (This isn’t always an enviable thing – I also try the crap beer that hits town, too.) So I picked up a bottle – all $75 worth. Now, I could have drank it alone in my basement, but that would be kind of loser-ish and worrisome. So instead I decided to turn it into a CBC column, which we did last Friday.

I start with a general discussion of extreme beer, how it is made and why. Then we sample TNP. And I must say Peter’s reaction (Peter Brown, the show host) is priceless. Worth the cost of admission all by itself. Quite frankly neither one of us liked the beer very much. My guess that it needs a year or two in the cellar to soften up (this could be a charitable opinion). At the moment it is very hot, rather molasses-like in its sweetness. It tastes something like a cheap, sugary rum, to be honest. It is one of those experiences I am glad I did once, but have no real plans to repeat. However, I do have 3/4 of a bottle still sitting in my basement that I need to figure out what to do with (good thing it comes with a wine stopper – and there was no appreciable carbonation to start).

While the beer was, in my opinion, rather questionable, I thought the column went quite well. It was fun yet remained informative. And it gave listeners an insight into a beer of which they would normally never come within a couple of continents.

You can listen to the column here, in all its glory.