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So we only have eight years left to go on this old rat hole. This being St. Valentine’s Day, we all know that the world is going to end on this date in the year 2016, according to Elaine (no last name given … mysterious …), a guest on Peter Venkman’s half hour show (it seems a lot shorter than that, doesn’t it?), World of the Psychic. So, drink up, people!

One beer you better get your greasy mitts on before you kick off should be Furthermore’s awesomely titled Fatty Boombalatty. The first time I had this particular brew was on a rather cold autumn night a few months past. I had just finished off my second cup of liquid reefer and decided I needed to rev things down a notch and go for something lighter. So I pulled a Fatty out and gave it a shot. At the time it tasted watery and pretty lifeless, but immediately after drinking it, for some strange reason I felt compelled to lie down for a bit. Strange weirdness, I tell you what. And, no, it was not 1969.

Now, as I try another Fatty (Boombalatty, that is) while my palate is still intact, things are a little different. But before I get ahead of myself, let me point out that this here beer is a Belgian-style wit, meaning it’s about as light in color and body as you’re going to get for a hand-crafted ale. But this doesn’t mean these brews aren’t complex. The flavors are subtle but extremely nuanced, meaning you really have to pay attention if you want to savor this style’s charms. And Fatty Boombalatty is no exception.

It pours a light gold, one of the lightest craft ales I’ve ever put into a glass. The head is silky smooth and wonderfully sticky, but not the rocky head it should be for the style. The nose is orange peel and coriander, with some restrained Belgian spiciness, not nearly as strong as you’d get from a good tripel. Upon the first sip, I get a bit of déjà vu: a bit watery, nothing more than a standard wit not even up to snuff with a Hoegaarden. But if you’re patient and you can appreciate the subtleties of the style you’ll be richly rewarded. As I get deeper into this beer the soft mouthfeel comes alive with interesting spicy/citrusy notes, ending with a guillotine chop of clean acidity and hops. And just when you think the sip’s over, your tongue is tweaked with a tiny malt twist at the end. Like I said, subtle, but drink it slow and don’t just savor each sip, but study it.

Oh, yeah, and at 7.2 percent ABV—all of which is absolutely hidden—it’ll punch your ticket, too. This is HUGE for a wit, hence the name, I’m guessing. I’m a little surprised the folks at Furthermore didn’t try calling this an imperial wit, because they could have gotten away with it. Either way, a great, subtle-but-complex entry.

Reviewed by Eddie Glick on February 14, 2008.

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