Double French Toast
Decadent Ales

The idea of a DIPA that’ s supposed to taste like French Toast really didn’t appeal to me, which is why it sat at the back of my fridge for four months. That it came in a can with a pink label emblazoned by a fork-wielding piece of French Toast helped keep it there. It might have been because, as a kid, I drowned my French toast in Aunt Jemima’s sickeningly sweet syrup (which kids love) that I was loath to taste that in a DIPA, which is supposed be a lupulin bomb. But curiosity eventually won. The bad news is that it does have a somewhat sweetish finish. The good news is that they didn’t use Aunt Jemima, and it wasn’t as sickeningly sweet as I thought it might be. Clocking in at 8.6%, it wasn’t bad at all, despite that hint of sweetness on the back end, but no more than a maple porter would generate. And occasionally, I could appreciate and enjoy the dance between the hops and the maple syrup, though I really didn’t catch too much cinnamon. I’m glad I tried it, though it probably won’t be on my shopping list the next time I’m in my local liquor locker.

Poured from a 16 oz can into a pint glass. A cloudy goldenrod color, with a quick-lived foamy head that turned to lace. Smells sappy and like alcohol. Taste is at first a sweet, maple wave with a subtle stringent hoppy note for balance, that for a second seems to work, but then the wave crashes. A sickly sweet corn-syrup aftertaste washes in, erasing the interesting maple-hops blend with overpowering sappiness. Mouth feel: one of the thickest, tackiest, stickiest beers I've ever tasted. Overall: a bold idea that has a flash of something great but ultimately loses out to the heavy sucrose that overwhelms the flavor and makes this unbearably heavy. The sugar disguises the high ABV but you won't be in danger of drinking this too fast, unless you're fond of glugging Aunt Jemima straight from the bottle. I'd love to see them give this a do-over with half the maple syrup.

 

 

Who knew that regular impeiral IPA had so much wiggle room for experimentation. Decadent Ales did of course, seeing the way for the curious taste of french toast to impede the hoppy, floral and bittersweet character of America's premiere lupulin bomb.

Double French Toast pours a calm pale amber and gold hue that doesn't yet reveal its tantalizing secrets. But as its frothy cap expands, the aromas of maple, fruit and perfume begin to draw the nose closer. Flavors of maple fuse with natural caramel, honey and graham cracker maltiness of the grist for a decadence in taste that's normally reserved for darker beer.

As the taste opens up, the character of french toast begins to retreat and will eventually become a back note to the hops. Citrus flavor of grapefruit, orange and a hint of lemon greet a more succulent and tangy character of tropical pineapple, passionfruit and mango. Mildly herbal and sprucy, the finish trends bitter with a peppery bite and a bright sassafras, dark berry flare.

Medium bodied and drying to a creamy crispness, the IPA holds serve with a long, bitter and fruity afterglow. But the rise of maple brings a cinnamon spice to the after palate and layers on the lingering graham cracker malts for one last visit of true french toast before the next sip beckons.