St-Ambroise Oatmeal Stout (5%)

Late last year, Peter McAuslan, co-founder with his wife, Ellen Bounsall, of Montréal’s Brasserie McAuslan Brewing, gifted me a copy of his 2022 book, Brewing Better Beer: The story of St-Ambroise and the birth of Quebec craft brewing. Owing to a number of factors, I didn’t get around to reading it until this January, but when I finally did begin making my way through its 276 pages, boy, did I get thirsty!

McAuslan Brewing opened in 1989 and I began writing professionally about beer in 1990, so as Peter observed in the note he inscribed on the inside cover, I really do “know much of (the story) already.” That knowledge, however, only piqued further my thirst for St-Ambroise Pale Ale, annoyingly no longer available at the LCBO, and the beer I awarded three and a half stars out of four in my first ever book, 1994’s Great Canadian Beer Guide, St-Ambroise Oatmeal Stout.

(I upped that rating to four stars in my 2001 second edition of the book, describing it as “outstandingly creamy and complex…(with) a mouth-coating, espresso-ish body holding dark chocolate and roasted malt flavours.” It was the only four-star rating in the book.)

Motivated by the story of the beer’s development in Chapter 13 of Brewing Better Beer, I tracked some down in a nearby LCBO and went about reacquainting myself with its flavour. The experience was akin to catching up with an old friend after too long apart.

Pitch black with a lovely ring of dense, tan foam forming easily with the pour, Oatmeal Stout has a remarkably rich aroma that blends dark and milk chocolate with creamy porridge and sweetened espresso, accented by notes of raisin and date and just a hint of black liquorice. The palate entry is lightly sweet, dark chocolaty, and just a bit fruity, slightly reminiscent of the dark version of Terry’s Chocolate Orange. This segues to a more mocha and espresso character, creamy and still a bit sweet, with a hint of anise and a rising hop character that sits midway between grapefruit peel and orange marmalade and grows further to a lingering bitterness on the finish.

Round, rich, satisfying, and definitely quaffable, this remains every bit the world class stout I found it to be over two decades ago, despite a brewery move and not one, but two changes in ownership. The bitterness on the finish is a bit more forceful than I recall, but not so much that it does anything to detract from the beer’s overall appeal. Still a Québécoise classic!

93 ($3.15 - $4.50/473 ml can, but on sale for most of the month of February at the LCBO for only $2.75!)