Cameron's Brewing Company Where the Buffalo Roam Barley Wine

Barley wine is a personal favorite. Nonetheless. Who doesn't love the idea of a tall can inside a small box?

Barley wine is simply a very strong beer. Aged in bourbon barrels this ought to be amusing. Amusing for Oakville anyway.

Barley wine is lovely stuff. This one is among a fit crowd. Sweet, caramelly, with the loving bitterness of a step-mother's affection.

If you don't like it you can always find refuge among the thirteen separate hundredths of amorous drinking alcohols.

Personally it confounds me that barley wines aren't more popular. Perhaps it's due to the nausea confronted by those whose exuberance leads to overconsumption.

74/100

Muskoka Brewery Shinnicked Stout

According to the label; "Shinnicked" describes the breathless and mildly shocking chill that inspires the bones during a nocturnal dip in a northern lake.

A stout brewed with coffee... Ya don't say.

The label advises that the purpose for this particular blend of barley and beans is to warm up the late night, freshwater lake bathers of Ontario's cottage country. And on that score, mission accomplished. I am inclined to note that the idea of a crackling bonfire on a granite shoreline would be a marvellous accompaniment to this stout.

Strong coffee and stout bitterness combine comfortably without sending you off to bed prematurely. It's nice to think that there's a high quality local stout built with equally locally roasted Muskoka coffee that awaits the cottage-going crowd for at least the near future.

78/100

Omnipollo Pro Dro Mus

"Graham Cracker Chocolate Chunk Caramel Bar Stout". 

Unsettling. 

Pours like backyard maple syrup. Blacker than a veteran's humour. The head is darker than many "dark" beers. Hold the phone. 10.5% alc. /vol. 

Wait. 

What? This beer is plainly psychotic. 

Who combines "Chocolate Chunk Caramel" with decimal of ethanol? 

Who?

The nose is invited with the comforting aromas of your grandmother's kitchen at Thanksgiving. The syrup treachery of the liquid itself invites sipping. Then, three sips in you discover that gulping tastes better. Three and a half sips in your heart sinks as the sinister burn of the booze warms the inner lining of the esophagus and your imagination convinces you that the mad brewer is giggling maniacally... Somewhere. 

With a sinking feeling you're convinced that you are hurting yourself.

Overall it is traumatic.

52/100