The Wild Dog

If the Good Doctor — upon burning through Baker and Barstow and pulling to the side of the desert highway to take a gibbering inventory of the drugs and booze — had not counted two quarts of Wild Turkey bourbon, but rather two bottles of this Wild Dog porter, rest assured the infamous burn through Vegas casinos and the post-Nixon American Dream would have been considerably… well, sloooowwwer.
This black froth is heavy stuff. Not to be touched if you value quick inertia. Yet this is exactly why it belongs among the cadre of preferred strong winter brews, perfect for slugging fireside or near the end of a holiday meal — even out of a thermos on a hiking expedition. As we babbled about in the recent Hot Knives Thanksgiving podcast, you’ll remember that the Flying Dog brewers, to make Wild Dog, literally took their Hunter S. Thompson tribute beer (Gonzo Porter) and pumped it into the nearby whiskey distillery, where the brown bread-like stout was left to age in oak bourbon barrels. The result is fitting: bombastic and indulgent and proud.
Slipping this into a glass isn’t easy, it erupts in a violent way, lashing out with a high head of millions of little caviar-sized mocha colored bubbles. This would be annoying if not for the perfect froth proportion it creates for the rest of the drinking experience. Wait two or three minutes and it has subsided to an idyllic level, which helps bring the brew up to a slightly warmer temperature too, so you can get all the sweet and sour notes. You can even pour this crew into extra-wide Scotch glasses and swirl it in hoop motions as if you were savoring 20-year-old whiskey. There’s less of the soy sauce notes you usually find in a porter or stout of its consistency; more balance of dark, hard grains against an after note of apple bacony sugar. The last note is like stinging nettles and American sour mash.
Dairy Pairy: Hook’s 10 year Cheddar
Soundtrack: Silver Apple’s “A Pox on You”