Is Off Label on your radar?

For a long time, I didn’t like No Label Brewing Co. Or, to be more specific, I remembered not liking No Label. In this age of brewed bounty, it’s easy to have a one-and-done attitude toward drinking choices, writing off a brewery based on one bad (or even mediocre) experience. That’s exactly what I did with No Label, and it was a mistake.

I first tried No Label at the first Texas Beer Festival (may it rest in peace) back in 2011. Given the explosion of great local beer, and great beer in general, it just didn’t stick out as particularly noteworthy, and I moved on. Every once in a while, my wife or a friend or family member would grab a bottle of Black Wit-O or Don Jalapeño, and I’d give it a try. Still, nothing really stuck. As a result, I didn’t really follow their progress.

Imagine my surprise then when the No Label brewery started popping up on 2014’s best-of lists, even by friends and acquaintances whose opinions I’d come to trust. I’m pretty sure I did a double take. Possibly a spit take. Needless to say, I figured it was probably a good idea to see what I’d been missing. Quite a lot, as it turned out.

Off Label is No Label’s experimental series – a chance for the brewers to stretch their legs and enjoy flights of fancy. Where No Label’s regular offerings stick pretty close to the stylistic cues of the BJCP style guide, churning out decent but not great versions of daily standards, Off Label takes a run at some of the highest-profile emerging trends in craft brewing: sours, barrel aging, pumpkin beers, etc. It’s odd to me that the brewery seems adept at tackling styles that trip up seasoned brewers, even while their central stable stays on the average side of the equation. Usually, it’s the other way around, with a solid brewery dipping their toes into barrel aging or souring and pulling out some real stinkers. If Perpetual Peace is any indication, Off Label has beaten those odds handily.

The beer pours a super dark brown thinning to garnet, with a tannish head that seems a bit camera shy.

Raisins, dark fruit and brown bread lead in the nose. It’s surprisingly bright smelling, with round notes of caramel and wood in the background, accompanied by vanilla accents. The booze is hiding a bit, where many bourbon barrel-aged beers cudgel you with it.

The nose repeats on the palate, mostly. The barrel notes round out in the mouth, adding luscious body. Dark fruit, vanilla and caramel combine seamlessly, like Goetze’s caramel creams sucked up through a vat of cherries jubilee, where the cherries are comprised of dark matter. Toasty graham cracker malts and burnt marshmallows come to mind, too. The overall impression is buttery and rich, but with a nice bright top note. Nearly burnt caramel brings a vaguely smoky undertone, and a little bit of tannic structure from the wood keeps the sweetness in check. It’s a surprisingly lithe and graceful bottle, especially considering the boozy swagger it keeps in its back pocket. It’s cool, but it’s cool enough to know it doesn’t need to prove it, despite what Bart and Lisa may say.

I currently have three bottles of Perpetual Peace at home. I’m going to drink one more now and stash a few away to see what a little bit of age does to them. While I’m waiting on that, though, I’m going to be on the lookout for other Off Label offerings. I may even go back and give the main line another shot. I suggest you do the same. I think I’ll be doing a lot of that from now on.