Southampton Russian Imperial Stout Release

Four-in-the-morning comes early when you’ve been sleep deprived.  Our aged dachshund decided to have a night full of gastric issues which involved waking up every half hour or so to rush him outside before he napalmed our bedroom floor. But I digress. The point is I got no sleep.  The point of the point is, I got no sleep before me and our diminished beer crew were due to depart for the Southampton Publick House’s Russian Imperial Stout release party.

A night of no sleep coupled with waiting in the long, cold dark for hours and the drinking of many, high octane brews spelled disaster.  Like an old sea-dog, I looked to the horizon and the impending storm.  But I strapped on my big-girl panties and headed out into the chill to meet the others for our trek east.

What is the Southampton Publick House Russian Imperial Stout Release Party and why would we try to get there at such an ungodly hour? Pull up a folding chair next to me, have some of my friend Joe’s “Aftermath” (surreptitiously poured from a beaten and battered thermos) and I’ll tell you.

Southampton Publick House, Long Island’s oldest brewery, has a fine line-up of year-round beers.  But, like many other craft brewers, they also create special brews offered in limited quantities.  Their Russian Imperial Stout is one of these brews.  Dark, roasty and rich, it is one of the most under-rated, limited-release imperial stouts out there.  I say “under-rated” because, for some reason, Southampton’s release simply doesn’t generate the hype that other releases do.

Witness the cultish trek for Kate the Great from Portsmouth Brewing or Three Floyds Dark Lord.  People make travel plans involving long road trips or even plane tickets and book hotel rooms.  A carnival-like atmosphere ensues.  Merriment and mayhem follow!  Now, these are excellent beers to be sure (if anyone has any they’d like to trade for, hit me up!), but where’s the love for Southampton?  Pfft.  So much the better.    It’s like having your own, secret fishing hole.  Screw the rest; they don’t know what they’re missing.  (Of course, this will probably change now that I’ve “blown up the spot”. JEDI MIND TRICK! JEDI MIND TRICK!  This is not the brewery you are looking for!). Without the spotlight and fanfare, Southampton’s release draws its own steady crowd of faithful cognoscenti.

Every year, sometime in late January, Southampton releases this stout and allows only four bottles per person.  Last year, about 500 bottles were available. This year, the label numbering indicated 650.  Though there are a few more, these bottles are not sent to distributors and are available only at the brewpub which, in turn, creates the demand.

Numbered order slips / tickets are handed out at 9am, a full two hours before the doors officially open.  The slips guarantee you get your allotment of beer.  That is, of course, assuming you get a low enough ticket number.  650 bottles of RIS were available this year which meant that tickets 1- 162 would promise you your four bottles.  This, of course, assumes that all ticket holders will go for their quota.  So there’s a little wiggle room.  If some people want less, then numbers higher than 162 would have a chance at bottles of RIS as well.  But we’re getting bogged down in stuff that you intuitively already know.  Suffice it to say, “the earlier the better”.  And suffice it to say that some of us beer geeks take this mantra to an extreme.

Given the rarity of this gem (and other offerings that day), beer geeks from all around queued up outside the brewery doors well before 9am.  As many of you know, the craft beer crowd has a devoted following and beer releases generate a stir resulting in crowds resembling a frenzied hybrid of Grateful Dead ticket sales, Black Friday and Super Bowl tailgate (see above references regarding Dark Lord Day and Kate the Great).

We arrived at about 5:30, confident we would be first.  My wife and I had done a little scouting the previous weekend and discovered that the Publick House had done away with the vast awning that used to shelter their outdoor dining patio.  All that remained was a small vestibule resembling the workings of a high-end vendor tent that surrounded the immediate area around the front door, a currently unused outdoor bar and an ATM machine.  My goal was for my crew to usurp this piece of prime real estate, hunker down with a space heater, and make all others weep. But alas, it was not so and karma, as they say, is a b*****.

There were already a dozen folks ahead of us, camped in the dark.  Somewhat crestfallen, we set up operations behind them.  Others soon followed, emerging from the shadows, fellow beer zombies all.  Some static broke out between the Early Ones and The Ones Who Came After as to why no one was sitting on the deserted (though awning-less patio) or why no one had taken advantage of the tiny vestibule.  I wondered this myself since that was my primary reason for such an early arrival.  Someone from the front of the line, most likely emboldened by whatever bottle they were sharing, claimed that “being cold was part of the experience”.  I’m not sure I believe this but that’s a topic for another time.

The 3 ½ hour wait passed surprisingly quickly.  Though cold, it was nowhere near the punishing temps of two years ago ( 8°F) with snow on the ground that hampered our pathetic trudge to a nearby McDonald’s for greasy, fatty sustenance.  Typically, bottles of rare and geek-worthy brews are shared but I, for the most part, passed on them recalling my disasters of prior years and the fact that I was operating with very little sleep.

The forms were distributed a little after 9.  I scored lucky ticket #13.  Stage 1 completed, we split for a local diner to gird our loins and prepare our bellies and livers for what was to come.

We returned about an hour later and watched with anticipation as employees stacked boxes of commemorative glassware on the previously unused bar within the vestibule.  One attendee was strangely antsy.  I wondered what caused this nervousness as he was surely guaranteed his bottles but I suppose everyone had had their fill of waiting.

At 11am, the doors opened and we entered by ticket number, as they had done the previous year.  The spots at the bar filled first and quickly.  An employee pointed  to the back of the bar (which, was actually the front of the restaurant) and stated that we should pay for and pick up our bottles there.  For a moment I was apoplectic.  Do I stand in line or grab whatever little table space was left?  Luckily, we were able to do both.  We were close enough to the front of the line (by virtue of our low ticket numbers) so that we three were able to make our purchases all the while maintaining claim on our nearby bar table.

Mission accomplished, we put in for an order of wings and settled in to enjoy ourselves a bit.  Of course, the Russian Imperial Stout was damned tasty.  It was smokier than previous years and, as one astute beer geek remarked, had a “bacon-like” essence.  I don’t think it actually diverted into the realm of the rauchbier, smoked beers notorious for their “smoked meat” tastes, but it definitely seemed different from previous versions.  As with its predecessors, though good fresh, the RIS will benefit from a 6-12 month rest in the cellar.  The Überliner was very good as well but the secret star was the Black Raspberry Lambic.

Perhaps not so much of a secret since only 450 bottles were released and patrons were allotted a mere 2 bottles but it was certainly riding the coat tails of its more well-established brethren.  It was, after all, the Russian Imperial Stout release party.  But I supposed it’s much like going to a superstar’s bash only to have a slightly less-known superstar steal the show.

Welcome, everyone, to Madonna’s 54^th birthday party!  But wait!  Here’s Megan Fox wearing nothing but saran-wrap!

You get the picture.  Mmmm… saran wrap… Where was I?  Oh yes!  The Lambic.

Beautifully colored, it was sharp and tart, yet flavorful.  The only downside for a boozehound like me is that I truly don’t think I could have more than two.  It’s not something you would slug while watching the Super Bowl. Furthermore, it’s so tasty and special that it should be coupled with edible fare.  I believe a soft, pungent cheese would be a good mate.

The highlight of the party, however, was having Brewmaster Phil Markowski stop by to say “hello”.  Though my wife and I stop by every so often for lunch, I’m far from being a Publick House regular so it was nice to have Phil remember me.  After chatting a bit about the event and his excellent recipes, he was kind enough to sign a bottle for me.  It’s going in my cellar in a place of honor reserved for the Untradeables and Those-To-Never-Be-Opened.  These are signed bottles from brewers I respect, admire and whose beers I drink a helluva lot of.  Sam from Dogfish, you’re next, buddy!  You too, Garret Oliver and Greg Koch!  But again, I digress.

Bellies sated and bottles in tow, we departed from Bowden Square and headed home.  I was a little ashamed that I had griped and moaned about getting up so early for this event when it was totally fun, regardless of the hardship that was involved.  As a good friend of mine once said, “It doesn’t have to be fun… to be fun.”  I think he said this when he went for Kilimanjaro and when he ran his first marathon.

With those accomplishments in mind, it’s easy to endure an early wake-up call and to stand around drinking in the dark, wee hours of the morning.  I would recommend doing it at least once in your beer geek career.  And, in this case, it most certainly was fun.

Cheers to Phil, Spencer and the Publick House crew for great beer and a great event!  See you bright and early next year!

BJ Gamboa
Lawn Guyland, NY
Twitter @echoguy