St. Sebastiaan Golden

Appearance: golden color. Medium head, white color, airy and not much lasting. Aroma: yeast mainly, with banana, bubble-gum and mineralized notes. Malty underground and fruity aromas like oranges and papayas. Spicy smells like coriander. Flavor: malty start. Intensive in yeast with notes of bread, banana, bubble-gum and bicarbonate (light). Light dryness from hops with herbal, grapefruit peel and coriander reminiscences. Mineralized aftertaste. Palate: light to medium body and medium carbonation. Remark: disappointment beer, the beautiful bottle and the high price create big expectations.

You know, not one I really liked. I guess it is what it was supposed to be, but if you like this style, you’ll like this one. It was light in color, nice head. Came in a ceramic jug. It was sweet I thought, like Deus and Hennepin.

Bottle. Expensive in the 12 pack! A nice ale. The price is hindering. Maybe for the experience only. Love the bottles!

Pours a light cloudy golden amber color with yeast visible in the pour. Had a nice white head that disipated quickly. Has notes of carmel and honey but they are overpowered by the bitterness. Overall not a bad beer, but not memerable except for the bottle.

Though a little pricey, the St. Sebastiaan comes with an unbeatable insurance policy. Dislike the beer? Keep the bottle. Classy and classic, this earthenware jug is perfect for home infused olive oils. It is still my hope, however, that it is a good beer too. Double down on the investment. Almost immediately after popping the cork my thoughts begin to drift to thyme infused olive oil. That’s because the rubber stopper released with not so much as a peep. Just a shallow exhale that loudly proclaims that the beer was "Loose and gone bad." What I call the street walker syndrome. My fears are confirmed when the pour finishes without a single bubble. Not even an inkling of a semisphere. Flat as puddle water. The body is a matching rust-water colored body and in the most displeasing of ways. The smell is more forgiving, somehow spared the atrophy of time and decay, much like the miraculously preserved bodies of ancient Chinese nobles that get dug up now and again. Creamed honey, sweet raspberry preserves and dark, but cheap and commercial chocolate flow from the dead still surface of the beer. I also catch milder sweets: toffee and peanut brittle. A shame that the beer is long since dead. I risk a taste. Offensive. The taste is similar to sewer water, and I am reminded that despite the Siren call of the aroma, this beer is veritably necrotic. A quick elegy, requiem, prayer and drain later the deed is done, but I can’t help but want to come back to this just for the vestigial smell of what this charming jug of beer tasted like in better days.