Beer Review: St. Peter’s Cream Stout — Darn Gluten Tootin’!

I REALLY need to get my reviews done quicker, as I’ve managed to let a couple months go by without finishing my review for this beer, and now I don’t remember the dang thing.  I’m ashamed to admit that lately I’ve picked up a string of interesting-looking beers, thinking they’ll be horrible, then finding out that they’re blandly good.  What’s more, I’ve actually been drinking some good beers lately, beers that other people think are good, beers that other (more refined) reviewers on this site have tried (“Whoa, IPA’s really are tasty!   Does anyone else know about this?”).  I promise to find some swill soon, preferably brewed in Samoa, hopefully brewed using one of those triple-boch X-treme brewing methods, only applied to Malt Liquor.

So, where was I?  Oh yes,  St. Peter’s cream stout.  Another beer bought on the basis of appearance.  The bottle, with the dark nearly-opaque beer in it, looks like old-timey motor oil that was poured into a Model T.  I had already tried their Sorgham Beer, which was blander than those little white plastic-coated pieces of paper that you peel off a band-aid before applying to your shaving accident.  And this stout?  Let’s just say that St. Peter was an understated, subtle beer brewer, and while his stout is a taste explosion compared to the Sorgham Beer, it’s about the most mellow bland stout I’ve ever tasted.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing, if you’re into a more subtle taste experience.  Let’s just say that this beer is a refined classical sonata for a string quartet in three movements, and this reviewer is stumbling back out of the auditorium to go blast some Styx on his eight-track.

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