United Nations of Beer

Dragon stout

by Dallas Reimer
(Manitoba, Canada)

Every year, my sweetie carefully selects a basket of assorted beers and wraps them up in a bucket for Christmas. I rejoice. This year, the bucket included a Jamaican brew known as Dragon Stout.

"A stout!" I exclaimed, excited by the thoughts of Red Stripe (another Jamaican beer, and also one of my favourites) and Guinness all wrapped up in a nice, neat package. I couldn't wait for a flimsy drinking excuse and crack this puppy open.

Finally, much later, the day came. I took the bottle out of the fridge and examined it. 7.5% ABV? Hmm. In my experience, high alcohol content does not make for high alcohol enjoyment. 330ml? Hmm. In my experience, 330ml is not enough.

I popped the top open and poured it into a pint glass. The head was about 1" thick but quickly dissipated. It was black, like Scrooge's heart. It was so black, in fact, that when I held it up to the light, it absorbed it all and left my entire apartment block without power for days.

OK, I’m lying. But so were they when they released this brew as "fit for human consumption".

I have never tasted a sweeter beer in my life. I was under the impression that this was beer and not store brand soda. Perhaps I was being too harsh. I took another sip. Still sweeter than the four-year-old ring bearer at your cousin's wedding. I gagged a little.

This is a first, people. I decided that I could not finish it. I tried to pour it down the toilet, but when I flushed, the toilet groaned and creaked and spit it right back out and onto my bath mat. I applauded my toilet for having good enough sense to do so. My mop, however, is going to be very angry with me when I get around to cleaning it all up.

But hey, it wasn't all bad. If I happen to meet up with a group of underage high school girls who want me to buy them some booze, I'm sure they’d be happy if I hauled a case of Dragon stout back for them.