Sometimes you can only look at yourself in the mirror and say “you are an idiot”. In this particular story, I am not sure who was the bigger idiot, 2019 Jason or 2010 Jason.

What am I talking about? I am talking about a beer I never should have tried 10 years ago and definitely shouldn’t have gone back to this past weekend.

The beer? Tactical Nuclear Penguin. For those of you who don’t know it, it is Brewdog’s initial foray into the ultra-high alcohol beer. Ice distilled, it clocks in at 32% alcohol by volume. At the time of its release in 2009 it set the record for the strongest beer in the world. Over the last few years Brewdog and a couple of other breweries have battled for the title (anyone remember the beer bottled in a stuffed squirrel???). I believe the current title holder is Brewmeister’s (also from Scotland) Armageddon Snake Bite at an insane 67.5%.

When Tactical first came to Alberta, I think, in 2010, as the local beer guy I felt a need to buy a bottle to see what it was like. In short, it was awful. All hot alcohol, esters, a harsh woodiness, and syrupy caramel. A couple sips was enough.

That wasn’t the stupid part. As it turns out at the time I decided to buy not one, but TWO bottles of the stuff (2010 Jason’s entry into idiot of the day). Not knowing what to do, I just left it in the back of my fridge (at the time there were reports that bottles of the stuff left at cellar temperature might explode. Lovely.)

Over the next few years it just sat there, occasionally shuffled around during a fridge cleaning event where my spouse would ask “what are you gonna do with this?” and be met with a sheepish shrug.

This past weekend I was once again doing a semi-regular fridge cleaning and found it lurking in a dark back corner. For some reason a voice spoke up in my head. “You should give it a try and see if it has improved in 10 years.” Under normal circumstances I would have laughed hysterically at the voice and told it to get stuffed, but the spouse is on a business trip and I find myself with idle time as I avoid laundry and yard work.

So I opened it up and poured a bit (2019 Jason’s craven bid for idiot of the day).

Good God please help me.

It was atrocious. Every bit as alcoholic and burning hot as the day it was borne. I got some burnt charcoal notes and a bit of sherry-like oxidation but mostly it was just esophagus-burning alcohol heat. This beast hadn’t mellowed a wit in a decade.

After quickly drain-pouring the rest, so as to not subject any other human being to such a trial, I sat with my head in my hands (metaphorically) wondering, first, what possessed me into giving it a second chance and, second, what possessed BrewDog into thinking this beer was a good a idea?

The latter is likely the BrewDog pseudo-punks’ never ceasing desire for publicity and notoriety. The former I can only chalk up to idiocy. Thank goodness I only bought two bottles.

At least the spouse will be happy we no longer have to deal with the bottle in our fridge.

Just don’t mention to her that bottle of Sam Adam’s Utopias stashed in my cellar…