Except, two things combined to ruin this supposedly epiphanous moment. The first was the beer itself. This is both the worst barleywine I've ever had, and probably not a barleywine. It's 8.1% abv so just squeaking into the appropriate scale, but that's not where I have the issue. It's quite a cloudy brown sort of colour rather than amber and puts out a scent that's far too sweet. It's an artificial, candy sort of smell with a green grape edge in there and nail polish alcohol to boot.
My first thought on tasting it was that I should have ordered a smaller glass. It has a character of tart fruit and sugar, mildly reminiscent of Japanese umeshu. The flat mouthfeel is smooth enough but this is oddly sour, dry, solvent-like and just downright unpleasant. It's not a hopped up US Barleywine, or a pleasantly malty / smooth and deep English variant. I'm not one to protect beer class definitions by any means but this is no barleywine. I just don't know what to call it instead.
The second thing to ruin the experience was the staff. Yes, I turned up on a weeknight and maybe I'm spoiled at the excellent Sail and Anchor but witness this exchange:
Staffer: "What are you drinking there?"
Me: "A pretty bad barleywine, unfortunately"
Staffer (confused): "Oh, have you been to Bali then?"
Cue momentary confusion and massive facepalm. It's written on your damn menu board for chrissakes, apart from anything else. It's like serving these freaks continuously ordering cider and James Boag's Premium Light has rotted either the brains or the enthusiasm of most here.
Oh and Russian Imperial Stouts aren't necessarily from Russia either you idiots.
2.0
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