Samuel Adams Triple Bock - Boston Beer Company (Samuel Adams)
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Ratings: 854 | Reviews: 623 | Display Reviews Only:
1/5 rDev -65.9%
I love many of life's indulgences: music, film, food, beer, BeerAdvocate.com, and so on.
With most of my strongest interests, I have a well-documented love for the best of the best...and the worst of the worst. For example, my favorite movies of all time include the widely-acclaimed likes of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," "The Godfather" (parts I and II), and "Rocky." They also include the inimitable "Troll 2," "The Crawlers," and "Manos: The Hands of Fate" (try sitting through the non-MST3K version in its entirety).
As such, when I began to foster an abiding interest in beer, it stood to reason that I should seek out the most infamously bad beers available, in order to further my education and shorten my life. As of the time that occurred to me, Samuel Adams Triple Bock was the most notorious beer discussed on this site's forums. And so I sought it out.
I was sent a bottle of 1997 Triple Bock -- along with a "bonus" bottle of Blue Diamond Stout, straight from China -- by BA EinWeizenBitte. From California to Georgia. For free (i.e., he asked for nothing in return). Thus began my odyssey.
I held onto the already twelve-year-old bottle for a few months after receiving it, until I could share it with as many people as possible under exactly the right circumstances. Those circumstances turned out to be the night of my grandfather's funeral, at my homebrewing uncle's house. I can think of no more appropriate context in which to attempt drinking Triple Bock. My brother and I stepped outside to open and pour the beer.
Appearance: The bottle itself is small, blue, and unassuming. In fact, I'd go so far as to call that delicate vessel attractive. What lurks inside, however, is repugnant.
Upon removing the placebo seal around the cork, and then the cork itself, I was greeted with no evidence of carbonated life. I did my best to pour the beer evenly into two glasses, and it lived up to its reputation: it looked like fetid pond water, rife with suspended algae and the long-rotting carcasses of various aquatic fauna. Chunks of thick sediment clung to the insides of both the bottle and each glass. The end of the pour yielded an audible "plop," the result of a slimy wad of what appeared to be manatee feces entering the glass. My God.
Smell: Please, don't smell it.
Others have likened the stench of Triple Bock to soy sauce, but I suspect something far more sinister is afoot here. The souls of innocent toddlers, slaughtered by a demonic cult? The olfactory distillation of Genghis Khan's tyranny? I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it smells far worse than any soy sauce I've ever encountered.
Taste: In each person's lifetime, one encounters a handful of turning points. A first kiss. High-school graduation. A wedding day. The birth of a child. For me, the moment Triple Bock met my lips was one such turning point.
As soon as the thick, tarry stool sample caressed my tongue, I knew I had been fundamentally changed. The rumors were true. Triple Bock tastes at once sickly sweet (like vomit after you've eaten a stack of pancakes drizzled with maple syrup), bone-chillingly sour (like soy sauce brewed in 1910, or vinegar derived from an eagle's tears), and improbably alluring. A second sip unveiled notes of mulch pile, fresh giraffe manure, and 9-volt battery.
This beer is a revelation.
Mouthfeel: Imagine giving a pint of blood -- you know, as you would at the Red Cross. Then imagine letting that blood partially coagulate, at room temperature, for maybe eight hours. Next, imagine attempting to drink that blood. That's how this nightmare felt in my mouth...and in my soul. As an added bonus, I could do nothing to remove the sensation, flavor, and smell of Triple Bock from my tongue, teeth, palate, and throat for several hours after drinking it. Even hard liquor couldn't cut through it.
Drinkability: Whatever the OPPOSITE of drinkability is, Triple Bock has it. In fact, it's made of it. I'd rather drink my own regurgitated bile than attempt to choke down another sip of this cruel, twisted monstrosity.
True story: While outside, my brother and I poured a little bit of Triple Bock into the bowls of the three dogs who live at my uncle's house. All three dogs, very hungry due to not having eaten since breakfast, ran toward the bowls, then simultaneously retreated by slowly walking backward. They appeared to be concerned that whatever was in there might reward sudden movement by attacking them. Such concerns were probably well-founded.
Truth be told, I strongly recommend Triple Bock to everyone who calls himself a beer connoisseur, just as I recommend "Troll 2" to strangers I pass on the street. There truly is nothing else like it in this world. It deserves every bit of its insidious reputation, and it will take years off your life.
08-25-2009 05:48:22 | More by UGADawgGuy
4.04/5 rDev +37.9%
I feel compelled to write a review of this beer.
1994 vintage, gift from a wonderful family I met thru work
A- this bottle was very well cared for ; the cork came out whole, in one piece and easily. Pours a light-sucking black hole into the glass. No head.
S- booze, sugar, whiskey, dark fruit. Reminiscent of a balsamic glaze. Sweet, sweet, sweet!
T- delicious, but just too sweet. This is something to be drizzled on a bowl of ice cream or dripped on parmesan cheese cubes, not drank from a glass. It reminds me very much of a well-aged balsamic glaze, which I also could not drink a glass of.
M- it paints the tongue like a brush. Thick, coating.
O- super glad I got to try this legendary beer. While i enjoyed the flavor, it's just too much to take in anything but small doses; you might like hot fudge sundaes, but you wouldn't want to drink a glass of hot fudge. Enough said.
08-08-2014 23:33:06 | More by Casey3236
Samuel Adams Triple Bock from Boston Beer Company (Samuel Adams)
68 out of 100 based on 854 ratings.