2008: The Jeffrey Pine

A few months ago, we bought some magnums of Anchor's Christmas ale, ranging from 2005 - 2009, and supplemented the collection with a sixer of 2010 Christmas Ale. Because we can't think of any reasonable way to do a proper vertical of all this beer, we're drinking the magnums throughout this winter and collecting our thoughts as we go through them.

The 2008 featured the Jeffrey Pine, which doesn't seem like a very interesting tree until you start reading about its distilled resin (a.k.a. turpentine). I thought all turpentine was the same, but apparently that from the Jeffrey Pine helps with respiratory ailments quite well, and can help with burns & other skin problems. But maybe the awesomest property (which sets it apart from other pine trees) is that the turpentine from the Jeffrey Pine is explosive. Explosive! 

But enough botany for today. The 2008 Anchor Christmas ale is a bit different from the two more recent vintages (though not explosive), but it shares several common characteristics. It still has prominent notes of ginger, molasses, anise, dark chocolate, and dried figs, but the vintage has a new property - wine. The aroma definitely has a vinous character, which is something we haven't yet had in any of the newer vintages.

The flavor carries a lot of the same characters in the aroma, but is heavy on the citrus - it reminds me of fruitcake. Rich, sweet, spiced flavor and heavy on the dried candied fruits. As for aftertaste, Mr Wort Hog suggested that it's like those Nestle Nips candies (could there be a worse brand than something that refers to a WWII racial slur?). The 2008 spices are subdued - nothing real prominent like the newer versions, but we still get some nutmeg and mace. 

This beer has a medium body, dry finish, and mod carbonation. It's dry like the '09, but has a bit of alcohol warmth we didn't get before. Overall, we like it and appreciate the complexity added by a couple years of aging. There are definitely some pretty consistent themes across the years so far, but the 2008 brought some new complexities that make me interested in the older vintages still hanging about in the cellar. I'd say that the 2008 is more interesting than the 2010 or 2009, but not compelling enough to seek out as a specific vintage. We'll see how the older versions fare in later posts...

A Year in Waiting: 2009 Anchor Christmas Ale

image from wikipedia

I'll never forget the first time I went to Monterey, Ca. It was 1995 and my first time to the Northern California coast. It was also the first (and only) time I'd run over a seagull (a complete accident, but it was in front of a bunch of nuns!), and the first time I'd ever seen the majestic cypress tree. The Lone Cypress is visible on the 17-Mile-Drive loop, which also goes past Pebble Beach.

When I saw that the tree on the 2009 Anchor Christmas Ale was the Cupressus Macrocarpa (Monterey Cypress), I instantly recalled this trip. Though I didn't drink any beer on that vacation, I had a lot of chocolate. A lot.

And the 2009 Christmas Ale pays tribute to the Great Chocolate Consumption of 1995 with a heavy dose of cocoa in both aroma and flavor. Right away, you're met with aromas of chocolate and oranges, accompanied by molasses, anise, and cherries. While the 2010 was reminiscent of molasses crinkles, the 2009 brings forth images of well-made fruitcake (not the crappy kind with cheap candied fruit) and chocolate-covered orange rind.

The flavor is heavy on dark, rich, bitter cocoa - the kind you'd only get at a specialty shop... the kind grandma doesn't care for because it's so bitter. The orange character pops up again in the flavor, followed by some spices - notably, clove and mace.

And the body is quite different from the '10. This one is much drier, lighter in body, and more highly carbonated. That lightness in mouthfeel, the dryness - they pair extremely well with the bitter, dark cocoa components of the aroma and flavor.

So far, we favor the 2009. But we still have five more magnums to go.

A Partridge in a Ginkgo Tree

Back in September, Mr Wort Hog and I made a trip to Goebel Liquor & bought six magnums of Anchor Christmas Ale (2009 - 2005). We weren't sure what we'd do with them, but they were so damn cheap we couldn't leave them there on the shelves. It seems unfair to do anything but a vertical, but trying to drink 9 liters of beer in one go between us seemed a bit ridiculous. Besides, this isn't Oktoberfest. So, over the next couple of weeks, we're drinking them all. Yep, you read that right.

Every year since 1975, Anchor has made its Christmas ale with a different - and secret - recipe and a different tree on the label. This year's tree is the Ginkgo tree (does memory improve with consumption?); we didn't get a magnum of the '10, but did pick up a sixer of the vintage. I think that's probably a more reasonable size for verticals. We're starting with the newest first, so a bottle of the 2010 starts this run of reviews (and yes, I'll actually post them in a timely manner, unlike my still-outstanding Germany posts).

The 2010 has a fantastic aroma; it smells like a molasses crinkle! Tons of molasses & ginger in the aroma, with nutmeg & dried fig not far behind. There were also notes of cherries & juniper or spruce in there, with a little bit of cookie-biscuit (you know, like those British "digestive" biscuits - vanilla, graham, and grain).

The flavor isn't much different, melding ginger, dark chocolate, toast crust, candied orange peel, and a little coffee. The finish is moderately bitter from the roasted malt and a decent helping of hops, but ends a little on the sweet & creamy side.

There are a lot of flavors going on here, and they all pair very well with each other. However, I think a few years of hanging around in the bottle will improve the complexity and depth of flavor. The different components just need more time to "marry". It's definitely worth picking up a six-pack or two and drinking one or two bottles now, saving the rest for next year. The richness and complexity of the Christmas Ale is something that is sure to change over time.