Ryan Cashman 

I wish I had nicer things to say about stouts. 

As someone whose ancestry runs heavily Irish, I should be a stout defender. Though I suppose since the only stout I actually enjoy drinking is Guinness, with its velvety smoothness and crisp, minerally taste, I’m not in any real danger of my Irishness being revoked. 

I’ve heaped a fair amount of criticism at stouts and porters in this column, but that’s only because I’ve yet to find any that match or better the overall quality of that most famous of Irish beverages. Yes, Guinness has hundreds of years of tradition and a global market under its belt, but that’s never stopped competitors from attempting to outshine them before. 

The trend on the local brewing front is to pack as much flavor into a stout as is scientifically possible. They’re packed full of flavors you’ve come to find on the sweets table: marshmallow, chocolate, coffee, peanut butter, toffee, nougat, etc. etc. 

Coffee and chocolate seem to be the most popular stout flavor pairings. On paper it should be a match made in heaven. The acidity of the chocolate or coffee cutting against the malty darkness of the stout. There are several companies pursuing this line of seasoning.

Sadly, for this writer, none of them have, so far, gotten the balance quite right. 

I recently picked up 3 locally made stouts  – Greater Good’s Evana Imperial Chocolate Stout, Four Phantom’s Worship Doom Imperial Stout, and Idle Hands’ Check Raise American Stout – in an effort to try and enjoy at least one of them. In that, I can say that I was successful … I did only, mildly, enjoy one of them. 

Greater Good’s Evana is a heavy beer. It’s touted as a “smooth all-season stout” but I cannot fathom drinking it on a hot day. Evana is brewed with “generous amount of cocoa” that imbues it with a cough medicine like denseness that regrettably destined it to the sink drain. 

Next, the Idle Hands Check Raise. I’ll keep this one short: “Brewed with copious amounts of roasted malts” is indeed the case, to the point where that is literally all you can taste. And it’s not a nice taste. Down the drain it went, too. 

Now, the Worship Doom – which I must say had the most intriguing can art I’ve seen in recent memory: four fantasy avatars superimposed against a terrifying looking tower – was actually as smooth as it claimed. It wasn’t offensive and it got its flavor combinations mostly right, making for an overall lovely drinking experience. Notes of caramel and wood smoke played well off of the dark maltiness of the brew. It’s honestly a decent stout, and the only one of the three I’d actually recommend.

This is not meant as a tirade against stouts. For anyone reading who genuinely likes either of the two beers I’ve just torn to shreds, by all means continue to enjoy them. I, meantime, will be sipping on the massed produced loveliness that is Guinness.