Sam Adams Utopias (28%)
In the early 1990s, the strongest beers in the world were universally acknowledged as Samichlaus from Switzerland, now migrated to Austria’s Eggenberg, and Germany’s EKU 28. Each was about 14% alcohol by volume, or roughly half the strength of the Boston Beer Company’s Sam Adams Utopias.
This June, the 2023 edition of Utopias will be released for online lottery sale by the LCBO at a price of $229. (It may also become available elsewhere in Canada, but I have not heard of any expected retail sites.) And if you think that an inflated cost, I’ve seen it listed for up to US$500 or more south of the border!
I was fortunate enough to be sent a sample of the new edition for tasting, so while I can’t tell you whether the 24 ounce bottle is worth the cost, I can give you a bit of an idea of what to expect from it. But first, some background.
Boston Beer entered – some say started – the beer strength wars in 1994 with the release of Triple Bock, which confusingly was an ale rather than a bock, but was nonetheless 17% alcohol by volume. A number of commentators despised it, some merely thought ‘meh,’ and I quite liked it. It was new and unusual, a beer the likes of which I had not previously experienced, and as the years would prove, it aged quite gracefully.
The first to take up the strong beer gauntlet was Dogfish Head, which responded to Triple Bock with their 120 Minute IPA, clocking in any anywhere between 15% and 20%, depending upon the batch, followed by their Worldwide Stout at 20%. Boston Beer replied with their turn-of-the-millennium Millennium Ale, also at 20%, then claimed the title for good with Utopias in 2002 at 21%. The strength of this biannual ale increased steadily through the years until it hit its present 28% in the mid 2010s.
The Scottish operations BrewDog and Brewmeister plus the German Schorschbräu took the strength wars to the next level by freeze-distilling beers like Schorschbock 57, BrewDog’s The End of History, and Snake Venom by Brewmeister. Freeze distillation is a process by which fully fermented beers are repeatedly frozen and concentrated by the removal of ice, which technically makes them spirits rather than beers. This is why I refer to Utopias as unequivocally the world’s strongest beer.
Perfectly still, as ever, the 2023 Utopias pours a deep reddish brown. The nose is as boozy as one might expect, but in a fashion that is far more tawny port or aged Pedro Ximinez sherry than it is spirit – an important differentiation that speaks to its fermentation rather than the spiritous nose of freeze distillation products. Over top of a chocolaty back note are layers of prune, raisin, and fig, black liquorice and PX sherry, a whiff of charred wood and burnt orange peel, and oddly, just a touch of fresh lemon.
The start is sweet and a bit cherry-ish, with notes of dark chocolate and raw cacao alongside liquorice and oak. On the mid-palate, it grows drier, boozier, and quite complex, with sherry notes showing first, followed by a hint of marmite, stewed fruit heavy on prune and dark raisins, a curious bit of smoke – which I later find to have been contributed by the addition of peaty Scottish whisky barrels to the aging program – more liquorice in the second half, a bit of peppery spice, and a lengthy, warming, oaky finish.
Compared to past editions of Utopias, most of which I have at some point sampled, the 2023 is both rounder and more complex, with less of the alcohol bite apparent in many other new release Utopias. In my notes on the 2011, for example, I suggest that it is a beer built for the cellar rather than present drinking, whereas I am quite content to sip the 2023 right now. It may or may not be worth over $200 a bottle, depending upon your priorities and financial circumstances, but if you do have a chance to buy one, I can all but assure you of a unique and intriguing beer drinking experience the likes of which you will find nowhere else.
96 ($229)