Reviews, Commentary and Opinions on Midwest Craft Beer and Microbreweries


Beer Reviews


Three Floyds Brewing Co.
Munster, IN

Style: Sweet Stout
ABV: 8.0%

Eddie’s Rating:
one beerone beerone beerone beerone beer   (Outstanding within its style.)

Milk. It’s friggin’ awesome. Some people don’t like milk. They’re “allergic,” they say. It makes them “puke,” they say. Pussies, the lot of ’em. And it’s not like I’m insensitive to allergics. I myself am allergic to too much alcohol. I get headaches, nausea, diarrhea, tiredness. So I sympathize. Except with milk hatin’ mutants. Fuck them.

Hey, I kid, because I love. You little freaks make life that much more interesting. Kind of like the folks down in Munster, who go by the honorific of Three Floyds Brewing. Just when you think you have those wacky brewers of all things insanely great figured out, they go and pull a fast one on you. Like this latest creation of theirs: Moloko.

It’s a milk stout. Which helps explain where the funky name comes from, the drink of choice at the late night Korova Milk Bars in a little movie called A Clockwork Orange. And what a milk stout. If you are lactose intolerant, I suggest you run away right now and hide behind a crate of Lactaid. Because this bad boy is like drinking a malted milk shake with chocolate and coffee thrown into the mix. And alcohol. Yes. Don’t forget the alcohol, because 8 percent ABV sure as Hell won’t forget you.

The pour isn’t quite inky black, but plenty dark with a thick, super-sticky tan head. A topping this thick has to have oats in it, and, sure enough, the label proclaims it’s “brewed with a portion of golden naked oats.” Wafting off this is a potent mix of dark chocolate, roasted coffee beans, milk, and malt—like I said, a dead ringer for a chocolate malted milk shake you’d get at an old-time deli … if the deli were run by someone who just escaped from the booby hatch and went a little wacko with the malt.

The sip is smooooooth—milk chocolate melded with roasty malt, all from a surprisingly sub-heavy body. This beer is rich and ludicrously thick. There isn’t a noticeable hop profile, which might explain why the finish is about twelve miles long. It only comes in a bomber, which you could easily linger over for an entire night—and I did just that. The folks who sold it to me said they had a bottle of it for breakfast that morning, but I’d suggest saving it for dessert. And I’m not a big fan of floats, root beer or otherwise, but a mug of Moloko is just begging for a big scoop of real vanilla ice cream. Cue the Homer Simpson drool noise.

Updated: Added the ABV; added the name origin and links to IMDB and YouTube.

Reviewed by Eddie Glick on September 16, 2008.
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