They describe this one as an ancient ale from a Scandinavian leather-clad priestess who, prior to things like grape wine being invented, insisted on a strong alcoholic mix of grain, fruit, and honey. They based this brew on what a Swedish brewery and a biomolecular archaeologist have uncovered about this “grog.”
It was good. Rather good, in fact. Sort of a “shandy,” but way better. I’m not a fan at all of having grapefruit juice or whatever mixed into my beer, it rather spoils the whole experience for me, effectively ruining both drinks. Kvasir, on the other hand, perfectly balances booze and juice. They’ve sourced lingonberries and cranberries for tartness, as well as cranberry juice, and combined that with birch syrup and honey to sweeten the deal.
The first sniff reveals a huge profile of tart cranberry, followed by a slight sweetness of lingonberry (anyone who’s eaten at furniture super-store Ikea knows what I’m talking about if they’ve had the meatballs meal with lingonberry jam). Anyway, the first sip offers sweetness like a shandy, but still enough “beer taste” to make you not want to pour it down the sink. The subsequent sips continued to provide more insight into this mysterious brew. There was a distinct sharpness from added herbs, along with a perfect sweetness from the syrup and honey. Further into the glass, the honey came to the forefront, allowing the cranberry to take a breather. Towards the end of my glass, I was finding myself disappointed that it was empty, but quite happy I’d experienced all 25.4 fl.oz. of mysterious goodness. If this is what Dogfish Head can do with an ancient recipe, I’m seriously looking forward to what else they can bring to my glass.