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Beer Bites

Beer Bites: Dogfish Head Palo Santo Marron

Nothing says “welcome back” like the massive alcohol consumption during syllabus week. This year, I decided to honor my last first week of school the right way: drinking the most alcoholic beer I could find.

Typical beers have an alcohol by volume of anywhere from 4 percent to 6 percent. I decided to double it. Enter: Dogfish Head Palo Santo Marron at 12 percent ABV.

When I asked the gentlemen employees in the beer aisle if I could find anything with a higher ABV than that, they looked at me with genuine concern. But I shamelessly purchased my scary beer, slightly disappointed that it only came in a 4-pack.

How innocent I was back then.

When I finally worked up the courage to crack open a bottle a few hours later, I cautiously sniffed it and was pleasantly surprised. The Palo Santo Marron, a brown ale, is brewed in handmade Paraguayan Palo Santo wooden vessels. Combine that with an infusion of caramel and vanilla, and it seems flavorful and delectable — until you drink it, that is. I’m pretty sure I can still taste my first sip, despite numerous tooth-brushings and a trip to Faegan’s to assuage my violated palate.



The Palo Santo immediately tasted like alcohol. I should have guessed that, but it was a surprise in the worst kind of way, like when one of your roommates fills up a water bottle with vodka, puts it in the fridge, then forgets to tell you it’s not water.

But after continuing to drink it — moving past the fact that I basically just took a shot — it got even worse. Gone were any hints of delicious caramel or the full-bodied, oaky aftertaste I was expecting. Instead, I felt like I was consuming something that was genuinely bad for me, like it was probably chewing through the lining of my stomach before biting massive chunks out of my liver.

I soldiered on. I kept thinking, “Hey, maybe it’s not as bad as I remember.” But somehow it got increasingly more disgusting and only succeeded in getting me a little buzzed after a third of a beer.

And here’s why: Despite the package assuring me the beer should age “with the best of them,” Dogfish Head beers are best fresh. My pack was bottled on April 10, so by now, it had lost almost all hops flavor.

I gave this beer one last chance: I offered it to two boys. In my mind, boys will drink just about anything with alcohol in it, so if a guy couldn’t handle it, this brew was truly undrinkable.

When they each took one sip and looked at me in horror, I knew it wasn’t just my underdeveloped palate that was the problem. I poured the remainder of the open beers down the drain — they were the general color and consistency of sludge, by the way — then exiled the remaining two Palo Santos to the back of the fridge.

If anyone is desperate enough, they’re all yours.





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