Taylor: Before a couple of months ago, I was not drinking beer that much. It didn’t have the appeal it used to, like when I was swinging a hammer for a construction company up in the North Shore. Back then, nothing sounded better than an ice cold Grolsch after a long day of cutting wood, digging holes, and hammering 16-pennies. But as the thread of my time unraveled into other jobs and took me to other places, I found myself spending less on the stuff. Pretty soon, I was the guy with a couple of vagabond bottles in the back of the fridge that sat there untouched for weeks on end.

It’s therefore a kind of fluke that I’m writing this review on Dogfish Head’s Palo Santo Marron*, a beer so beautiful that it makes my head spin. Drinking – and enjoying – this beer makes me wonder what happened in my brain that led me to believe that beer had nothing more to offer; that it was all just ambers and adjuncts, fighting for elbow room on the kitchen table of the American palate.

Palo Santo is a native tree species in tropical regions in South America. This specific beer is aged in Dogfish Head owner/founder Sam Calagione’s 10,000 gallon Palo tank, which can only be described as “the largest wooden brewing vessel built in America since before Prohibition.” The Palo Santo Marron is a monster: a full 12.0% ABV, high for a mere brown ale. But it’s hardly a brown ale. Palo Santo, or “holy tree,” is utterly blessed.

Mine came in a standard Dogfish Head bottle, unassuming to say the least. From the second the cap was off and the roasty, caramely scents started attacking my olfactory, however, I knew something was about to go down. It poured a rich, opaque black color, like oil from the dirtiest of engines or pure, bubbling molasses … straight into my regular old pint glass (which is the brewer-recommended glassware). I’d heard the Palo Santo was a brown ale, but was not expecting what I saw in my glass after the pour: a mysterious and thoroughly aromatic elixir with a pretty 2-finger head of deep tan.

When it comes to wine, which I don’t drink very often, I love tawny ports. These are red wines aged in wooden barrels, colored golden-brown due to their oxidation and evaporation in the barrel. They can be described as nutty and are very sweet. Dogfish’s Palo Santo Marron is as close to tawny port as beer comes: an extremely enjoyable blend of tastes that I find irresistible.

It smells like roasted coffee, vanilla, molasses, raisins, and caramel. As for taste, well, it’s out of this world. While I easily pick up on the roasted malts, caramel/vanilla, and faint raisin-y tang, it also has those serious woody/nutty notes. I am eager to find another beer that’s made in Palo Santo wood to compare flavors and flush out that unique taste.

The reason this beer gets an A+ is that on top of its excellent look, smell, and taste, Dogfish Head has again taken the more typical American Brown Ale and defied classification through some serious creativity and innovation. The result is a sippable masterpiece that is great lightly chilled, and gets better as it warms.

I will be recommending this beer to every person I know that likes tawny port wine, in the hopes of bringing them over to beer. I can’t wait to drink a Palo Santo Marron while smoking a Cuban cigar. After my upcoming trip to Mexico, that pairing may be a common practice. Grade: A+

*”Marrón” is Spanish for “brown.”

Michael: Admittedly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. The last foreign language that I spoke for any notable duration was French and that consisted of mostly menu items and ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ So I may be a bit off, here, but I could have sworn ‘marron’ was brown. And with even a bit more surety, I could have sworn the “Brown Ale” on the back means “Brown Ale.” I could be wrong here…

Palo Santo Marron has been built up quite a bit. From the gushing reviews posted right here on The Perfectly Happy Man to lustful comments from other beer-loving buds, this Dogfish Head brew had a lot to live up to. Now, my preface when I don’t like a particular style of beer is always to admit so and ask you to take the review with a grain of salt. Brown Ales are not one of my favorites, but I think this beer is having one big ol’ identity crisis. In a very, very good way.

It pours way too dark to be brown and rich, thick and coating. Its head of a 1/4 inch dwindles to nothing, simply too intimidated of the beer’s body to hang around long. The aroma is that of age; slightly liquor-like, reminiscent of a bourbon barrel brew or a very strong stout. Its not quite nose stingingly pungent, but on the verge, but staying far enough away to be pure pleasure. Its creamy smooth and hints of caramel and even sweet dark fruit peak through. I can’t help thinking I’m drinking a beautiful stout! At the very end, the finish is ushered out by a strong, woody flavor that sits on the back of my tongue like I’ve just chewed a piece of bark.

In this quest, this looking-for-amazing-beers-of-the-world adventure that I’m on, there are a lot of decent beers. Beers that you swallow and say ‘Hm. That was good.” But after so many average Joe’s, you need a change-up, a brew that blows the lid off convention and makes you ask ‘How do they do that?’ Thank you Palo Santo Marron, I was getting a bit skeptical lately, I was wondering just where all of the great beers of the world had gone. You, my friend, made a believer out of me again. Grade: A+