To paraphrase a long-eared galoot named Bugs Bunny, “How now, Apocalypse Cow?”

(See, when you’re writing a review for a beer like Apocalypse Cow—”a beer of udder destruction”—a new double IPA from Three Floyds, what matters most is what quote you open with. I went with Bugs since, well, it’s Bugs fucking Bunny. I could’ve gone with the second most quotable war movie of all time, Apocalypse Now—something like “Charlie don’t nerf!”—but that seemed a bit too predictable. And if there’s anything Eddie Glick is not, it’s tall. See? You probably thought I was going to say “predictable,” didn’t you?)

Although I always welcome a new Three Floyds loony libation with open arms, I have to say I’m a little perplexed as to why they’re putting out another imperial-style IPA, since they already have the superlatively awesome Dreadnaught in their arsenal. But as long as the beer is still yummy, I ain’t going to start belly achin’ none too much.

So, why another imperial IPA when Three Floyds already have the superlatively awesome Dreadnaught in their arsenal? Because this one is brewed with lactose. Hence the cow moniker. It’ll be interesting to see how the lactose will effect the taste of a big-ass IPA.

But before we can taste the beer, we have to pour it: a pale straw color with a thick, creamy, sticky head almost an inch thick. Repeated sniffing yields wild quantities of pine cones and grapefruit. I wonder what’s in there … However, deeper whiffs dig up some subdued earthy signs.

The front edge of the sip is sharp and intense, acerbic, carbonation-like bite with some musty tinges along for the ride. A rush of bitterness then takes over, segues into a fruity/malty/bitter finish reminiscent of … British marmalade. In fact, in some bigger sips the citrusy notes crank up so high I could swear there was a shot of orange juice in there. The finish is long and somewhat cloying for such a bitter brew—a big buttress of syrupy malty sweetness to hold up against all those hops.

This was a weird one—those citrusy overtones really made this one pleasingly perplexing pale ale of pronounced proportions. (Plus, it had a giant amount of alcohol, if the bruises I sustained while stumbling around the basement after drinking the bomber are any indicators.) Then again, this is Three Floyds we’re talking about, where things aren’t normal. Sometimes they can even get downright strange, kind of like Apocalypse Cow, a brew that’s somehow sweet and bitter at the same time. Crazy, maybe, but immensely enjoyable nonetheless.

Reviewed by Eddie Glick on July 13, 2009.

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