Beer Review: Young's Double Chocolate Stout

photo by Kevin Gibson

photo by Kevin Gibson

A sweet treat with a low ABV

It’s the time of year when I enjoy circling back to old favorites. I was getting something out of my girlfriend’s fridge the other day and noticed a can of Young’s Double Chocolate Stout in the back, next to a couple bottles of Guinness.

I recognized it as a gift I had given her a couple years ago, convinced she would love it, given she’s a stout drinker (when she drinks beer at all) and had appreciated the beer before. Yet there it still was, and it made me a little sad.

So, the next time I was out beer shopping, I grabbed myself one in a bottle, vowing to wait until a chilly day to pop it open. That day came on a Wednesday a couple of weeks later when the clouds kept the skies nearly dark and the weather app on my phone was showing me temps in the 20s. I grabbed a pint glass, opened the beer, which is brewed by Wells & Young Brewing Company of Bedford, England, and poured it in, a thick, creamy, tan head formed as I poured. Aromas of milk chocolate, vanilla and a slight coffee roast emanated from it as the beer’s hearty, deep brown-to-black body filled the rest of the glass.

It bought back happy memories of the first time I ever tried the stout, many years ago, when I was first discovering the many pleasures beer had to offer. It was summertime, and I was attending what was then the only beer festival taking place annually in my city of Louisville. At the time I was still new to so-called “dark” beers (it was a different time, OK?). I accepted it, and it changed so much for me. To that point, I was still trying to warm up to some of the coffee-like bitterness many stouts held, but Young’s Double Chocolate Stout was creamy, smooth, sweet and, well, chocolaty.

A few years later, I took my girlfriend to the same annual festival, and the same vendor had the beer. I had her try it and, as I had figured, she enjoyed it quite a lot. But Young’s beers aren’t all that common where we live, so when I ran across that can, I decided to buy it for her. And there it still sits.

This bottle I opened in front of me now took me back, and interestingly, I discovered that the beer is more drinkable than I even remembered, with an even smoother flavor profile and mouthfeel than I had recalled, probably because of all the imperial stouts and coffee stouts I’ve enjoyed and grown to love in the years since that first encounter. At most, there is just a slight hint of bitterness on the beer’s finish, but I had to really hone in to detect it. At the same time, the lacing on the beer is voluminous, so it doesn’t lack for body.

As you sip, the chocolate flavor opens up even more as it acclimates to being liberated from its packaging (not surprisingly, this one also improves as it nears room temperature, so take your time). The beer is a mere 5.2% alcohol by volume. This, of course, speaks in part to its relative drinkability, but this time-honored stout has lost nothing, at least for my palate. It may not satisfy the person who is craving that mighty imperial stout robustness, but for a casual session on a cold day? It’s damn near perfect.

I don’t usually go for sweets, but I also can imagine this beer being paired with s’mores to grand effect, or perhaps even chocolate chip cookies. Or just do what I did, which is slam it into a pint glass, sit back and enjoy. Hello, winter.