Guinness Draught

Brewed by St. James’s Gate (Diageo)
Style: Dry Stout
Dublin, Ireland

When its fresh on draft and fresh, its pretty decent. Coffee and light creaminess with a roasted malt undertone. It is a bit too thin and lacks flavor, but Its not bad.

Pours dark brown with light tan head. The aromas are simple yet strong, with coffee, roasted malt and dark chocolate all powerful on the nose, with a hint of spice. The texture is a little on the watery side, as is the flavour. Coffee and roasted malt dominate with a subtle biscuity flavour which adds a bit of body, but not much. A classic stout.

Pub can - pours black with creamy off-white nitrogen head. Always loved the visual of the downward cascading bubbles. Light, dry, roasted barley nose. Flavor is similarly light and very dry, with a pronounced coffee finish. Mouthfeel is creamy but not overly thick. Not a favorite stout by far, but not bad, and can be the perfect thing when drawn by a skilled barman at an appropriately Irish establishment.

Can. Pours a solid black with the beautiful Guinness head. The aroma isn’t as powerful as some, but there is some roasted barley and maybe a hint of coffee. A very fine carbonation with a very creamy mouthfeel. The feel can definitely throw people off if they have never had a beer of this nature before (i.e. mass produced crap). The palate follows the nose, with notes of roasted barley, a little coffee, and surprisingly light. Gentle bitterness and a definite dry quality. This one is famous and rightly so. Solid, not very complex, but the perfect gateway into better beer drinking.

Guinness is the gold-standard as far as simple, delicious beer goes. This was the beer that ruined my palate for all the macro-American crap that’s on tap and in bottles everywhere. Medium mouthfeel, lightly creamy, lightly bitter, with the most gorgeous tan head and so-deep garnet it’s almost black. I can’t drink a stout without inevitably comparing it to Guinness. Yum.

If Poured well, this is the best drink there is... Watching the perfect pint settle! However i had had a brave few bad pints where it was not the rite temperature and wrong mix of gases etc.. thankfully that’s why Guinness have a quality assurance team that ensure bars do it rite!

If I think back I remember drinking my first one, back in so much simpler times, when I was still young. To the King’s Head did I stroll, not for the first time. ’Twas in that castle, in my youth, I’d spend every dime. Scarves of every football team hung on every wall. Drinking songs, like cigar smoke, lingered in that hall. And at the bar the punters sat and pissed the time away. I swore I’d sit and drink with them until my dying day. My choice in beers and lasses both was vapid, thin and blonde, but deep down a part of me for something deeper longed. One day I called for something else, the barman I surprised. And on that day a deep, black stout for my first time I tried. The barman poured the rich, thick brew with patients and with care, and then he stopped two-thirds the way while at the glass I stared. Cascading like a fountain, those bubbles did their dance, such beauty I had not beheld, I cursed my ignorance. And once the beer had settled, again the barman poured, a frothy head and quaint shamrock atop this dark reward. "Guinness up!" the barman called and placed it on the oak. And to my shock the glass, I swear, like God Almighty spoke. "Who are you to order me?" to my surprise it asked. "Some hipster writer, just a boy, I’ll kick your little ass." "Please," said I, "I didn’t know you’d give me such a fright. I know that all this time so far, I have been drinking shite." "Very well," the black pint said, "sip me long and slow. I’ll show you how a beer should taste and down your gullet flow." And so I raised the glass and sipped, my mind was all atwitter, and roasted barley I did taste so sweet and yet so bitter. The palate was like Irish cream, the likes of which I knew, but never did I think I’d get the same feeling from a brew. And so I drank all afternoon, a stout virgin no more. I drank until I could not stand, nor walk across the floor. Years later I’m a connoisseur, I’ve tried the best and worst. But I have learned it’s not the beer, it’s where you had your first.

On Tap. I let this one warm up a little in my hands. Roasted malt aroma was faint. Lovely black darkness with a nice creamy head. Light in flavor and easy to drink. Being found more and more in my remote area. Taste of some bitterness and roasted malt, finishes up creamy and slightly dry. I like Guinness.