My tale, for those of you inclined to hear it, is one not merely of a recount of gustatory pleasures promised and, to a certain extent, denied; it is also one of very serious warning. It all began some nights ago, during the tenth month of the year, that period which some label the Season of the Witch. In this time of year, scant weeks before the arrival of All Hallows Eve, that which is not real to us becomes so, and the world is awash with ghouls, goblins, and all sorts of assorted beasties.

I, of course, knew better than to believe in such things. And so, secure in my sense of man's mastery of all he surveys, I picked up a bottle of Werewolf beer at the local gourmet grocery. An innocent enough act to be sure, or so it seemed at the time. Sadly, however, I failed to heed the cautionary words upon the very label of the bottle, said label which also features the duality of beautiful fair maiden juxtaposed against a savage, beastly wolf. Most important of all, however, were those words.....

You must be sure you wanna taste it......
 
And I was sure, or at least I thought so. For, ready as always to try new and exciting beers as is my wont, who was I to turn this one down? What's more, Werewolf is made in far away Lithuania, a land from whence some of my own ancestors hail, by the Rinkuskiai Brewery, a recent newcomer established in 1991. Still, they name this brew, which is allegedly based on an old local recipe, after the local legend of the lycanthrope. But we all know such things don't really exist, of course.

You must be sure you wanna taste it......

So, I took my half-liter bottle home. Werewolf pours to a hazy orange amber color with a light and quickly fading head formation and a surprisingly prune-like fruit nose. At first, I wasn't really sure what to make of this brew by looking at it.

You must be sure you wanna taste it......

I was sure, but a sip did not help much in figuring it out either, at least stylistically. The remarkably thick and viscous body is redolent with dark fruity notes of fig and prune, though of course this is not an extremely dark beer. How mysterious.

There are some husky grain notes here too, and the beer does warm with alcohol in the finish as well (it's a rather strong ale at 8.2% alcohol by volume). But like a cursed soul transforming from man to wolf, Werewolf beer makes the transition in a pained, harsh fashion, and finishes a bit rough. It does have a gentle hint of bitter hops that I like, though they just barely sneak through.

To be sure, it's a cheap gimmick beer (and at $1.99 for a half liter bottle, it was indeed inexpensive). But it wasn't all that bad, and though I'd give it two and a half stars overall, I will round up to three because of the dirt cheap price. Probably it's better fresh from the brewery.

But be forewarned; there's more to this brew than meets the eye. And as I type this, under the first full moon since I've imbibed my bottle, a curious sensation crawls over me. I feel transfixed by that brilliant, all-seeing orb in the sky. Strange sounds emerge from my throat, almost like howls as they come forth. It's getting harder and harder to type, and I seem to be sprouting....fur? And as the last vestiges of mortal sanity begin to fade away into my dwindling degree of consciousness, a final rational thought manages to take form...

You must be sure you wanna taste it......

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