Beer: Embrace the dark side By Jay Pawlowski Porters blossomed during the Industrial Revolution—imagine murky pints mirroring the billowing chimney smoke of Charles Dickens’s London, and you get a sense of their distinct roasted flavor. Like the sky, our mood in the dying days of winter is dark and heavy. But with the right kind of beer, who needs the sun? Let the pilsners and lemon-garnished wheat beers of summer reflect the sunshine of their season—the dark and weighty porters and stouts of winter better complement the heft of our thoughts as March roars in like a lion. “A winter beer tends to be a little more hearty, a little more stick-to-the-ribs,” says Judy Russo of the Sterling Place Tavern in North Buffalo. She and Sterling Place co-owner John Gardon provide one of Buffalo’s best and most thoughtful beer selections. “It’s a bowl of macaroni and cheese—it’s not a salad.” Ah, liquid comfort. And for warmth, the rich beers of winter beat a roaring fire any day. “It’s not like the stock market,” Russo quips of their much-higher-than-average alcohol content. “It always goes up.” (Okay, not in the case of Guinness, the most famous stout, but we’ll get to that in a minute.) Take the porter. This beer gets its name from its popularity among eighteenth-century English transportation workers, who presumably drank as hard as they worked. They blossomed during the Industrial Revolution—imagine murky pints mirroring the billowing chimney smoke of Charles Dickens’s London, and you get a sense of their distinct roasted flavor. Sometimes aged in wooden barrels to achieve authenticity (and what was called its characteristic “horse blanket” aroma), a liquor taste can be evident. Great Lakes Brewing Co. makes the excellent and very accessible Edmund Fitzgerald Porter all year round. Similarly, the Smoked Porter of Stone Brewing Co. is rich but not overpowering and can serve as an excellent gateway to this style. Another safe bet is the porter made locally by Southern Tier Brewing Co. These examples clock in between five and six percent alcohol by volume (ABV), which is typical for porters today, but probably a bit tame historically. If you’re up for the challenge, look for porters aged in bourbon barrels—you may make Denis Leary’s “whiskey face” at first, but each sip gets smoother. The stout, which is what first comes to mind when most Americans think of dark beer, is a delectable direct descendant of the porter. Stouts began as fuller-bodied variations of porter and eventually became their own style. One pint can sometimes feel like a meal in itself. (It’s still winter—go ahead, have seconds.) A fan favorite in this category is Rogue Brewery’s Shakespeare Stout. There are many variations, including dry Irish stouts, sweeter English stouts, and imperial (or Russian) stouts. The truth about Guinness, the insanely popular Irish brew, seems impossible: Casual observers consider it the heaviest of the heavy, but it actually has a lower ABV and calorie count (4.0 and 125 per 12 oz. serving) than Labatt Blue (5.0 and 153). I’d never suggest dieting in the winter, but if you’re watching your figure, Guinness may be the way to go. And, of course, it’ll make for a perfect companion during the inevitably snowy St. Patrick’s Day parade. At the Sterling, Russo notes that when light beer drinkers ask for a dark beer recommendation, she asks if they like strong coffee, and if so, a stout is her recommendation. That’s no coincidence, considering that the process for roasting a stout’s malts is very similar to coffee bean roasting. So ... looks like coffee, kind of made like coffee ... let’s make it with coffee—and hence the marriage of two heavens. Southern Tier’s Jah-Va imperial coffee stout is one of the best beers I’ve ever had. At twelve percent ABV, though, I wouldn’t recommend replacing your morning cup of joe with it. Let’s say you like coffee, but just a bit on the sweeter side. Reach for an oatmeal stout. Samuel Smith’s Oatmeal Stout holds a reputation as a trendsetter during the surge in craft beer enthusiasm in the 1980s and ‘90s, and for good reason. Flying Bison Brewing Co. of Buffalo hits it out of the park with its Blackbird oatmeal stout, and once again, Southern Tier gets high honors for its Oat imperial oatmeal stout (and again, not for breakfast at eleven percent ABV). And while beer may not be appropriate for breakfast, chocolate stouts—which are milkier, creamier, and have a beautiful Stygian hue—make a perfect dessert or accompaniment to dessert. “It works out nice as your finishing beer,” Russo says. “That’s your cake.” She pours a mean Brooklyn Brewery Black Chocolate Stout, an award-winning example of this category. “Don’t be afraid to experiment,” Russo says to those who may be afraid of the darkness. “It’s a fun thing to do.” So save the blinding-bright Corona Light for summertime, when you’re reading People by the pool or frolicking on your freshly mowed lawn. Here in the season of darkness—here in the winter of despair, as Dickens might say—celebrate the beauty of bleakness with a hefty porter or stout. For this dark season is when we most need a like-minded companion. Jay Pawlowski prefers dark, brooding death metal and a good game of chess with his porters and stouts. SUBSCRIBE NOW Back to the Table of Contents Back to Top