Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout, by North Coast Brewing Co. of California, has long been on my radar but never before in my glass. I’ve been told about it by a few self-styled beer aficionados and recommended it over the internet as one of the “most manly” drinks around. Mind you now that I’m not too familiar with stouts – yes, I have had Guinness but do not clearly remember how it tastes – so my ability to compare this drink to others isn’t going to be great. But hey, every six pack (or in this case, four pack) is a story so lets start with that.

I work a graveyard shift at a convenience store (fuck my life), and throughout the course of the average night I see every kind of scum imaginable; however there are always a few decent people who I end up getting to know on a casual basis. One such regular is a young man we’ll call Jerry. He often comes in around 1:30 a.m. on the weekends to buy a six pack of something and we end up having long discussions about all sorts of random shit; The chemistry of nutritional science, vidya gaems, and of course: beer talk. Jerry is a pretty intelligent and interesting guy, so its great to have him around for a half-hour or so to break up the routine stream of shitheads (thank goodness our gub’ment gives these people food-stamps, how else would they afford $30 worth of cigarettes and beer everyday!?). One such conversation on the topic of our favored drinks led to Jerry adding yet another recommendation for Old Rasputin. Well that was the final straw. I’ve got to find some, I thought.

So, Monday morning (that would be my Friday night equivalent) I headed to the local World Market, found the box with that creepy old son of a bitch on it, and shelled out $8 + tax for four bottles. That is a pretty steep price for beer around here, but not terribly so. Already I can give Old Rasputin a grade of C on price.

By the by, its tough buying alcoholic beverages in the morning – you end of feeling like such a pathetic piece of slime. Every morning I watch homeless guys gather at 5:59 a.m., impatiently waiting for 6 o’clock to roll around so we can start selling beer again for the day. So this image of worthless people clamoring for another day of drunken stupor sticks in my mind when I decide, on my “Friday night,” to buy some booze.

Anyhow, after awkwardly explaining to the cashier that I work nights in some attempt to not look like an alchy myself, I return home with the beautiful sunrise and admire my prize. The packaging proudly exclaims “one of the 10 best beers in the world” as quoted by some snob critic, tatters off a long list of awards won at festivals both in and out of the States, and includes an interesting tale about the bearded man on the bottle. Most striking, of course, is the phrase “Never Say Die” written on the box handle. This maybe something most people don’t care about at all, but I’m giving Old Rasputin an A on packaging. Image and presentation count for a lot with beer, because its the medium from which the tradition and atmosphere of the drink are expounded.

Snapping off the bottle cap, I test the beer’s aroma. Strangely subdued, but the prominent feature is of course the hops. I pour the beer into my favorite glass (drinking from bottles is no way to enjoy a finer beverage), and admire the inky color that no light can penetrate. I take a last look at the bottle before throwing it away; 8% ABV, high for a beer.

So I go about taking a tentative sip, and find it not as bitter as expected. Don’t get me wrong, its quite bitter, but the flavor balances this as the few truly good beers do. I would equate the bitterness with that of most IPAs, perhaps a little more. The flavor is initially much like an IPA as well – very hoppy – but transitions to smokey, bread-like flavors as you finish your swill. Much as I have heard people describe Guinness, this is a beer that you “practically have to eat” as apposed to drink. While Old Rasputin did go down smooth, it certainly lives up to its name as a stout. The full bodied flavor does weigh heavy on your tongue, and I wouldn’t recommend it to lager drinking wussies. I’ll give it an A in the flavor department.

I didn’t eat anything with mine, but my instincts tell me Old Rasputin would go well with barbecued brisket (as long as the sauce is smokey and not too sweet), and could possibly be paired with some rustic breads to great effect (rye bread comes to mind).

I would NOT recommend you get drunk off the stuff, I’m sure the hangover would be horrible. This is the sort of drink you have one bottle of to relax.

Overall, Old Rasputin scores -A: great beer for a less than great price.

inb4 that Bony M song.