Old Tomorrow Beer: Monty’s Golden Ryed Ale – A Victorious Review

I had thought I’d reviewed them all, but happily I was wrong as usual. When browsing my local LCBO today I noticed a cache of these distinctive 660 mL bottles at the register. A big fan of Old Tomorrow Beer’s other brews, I purchased one and put the super-sized bottle in my freezer for an hour.

Old Tomorrow is an up-and-coming brewery that operates out of Toronto. As with their other brews, this one celebrates Canadian greatness. In the case of Monty’s Golden Ryed Ale, Old Tomorrow Beer celebrates Jon Montgomery’s 2010 gold-medal win and subsequent celebratory pitcher chugging. Let’s see if this ryed ale is as delicious as beating the Americans in the (winter) Olympics. Given that this beer has been aged in Canadian whisky and oak, it has a chance.

Old Tomorrow Beer: Monty’s Golden Ryed Ale – First Sip

Monty’s Golden Ryed Ale pours a rosy-golden colour. It’s slightly opaque with a thick layer of foam that sticks around. I can smell the rye as I take my first sip, and its thick mouthfeel promotes its honey flavour that lingers until you take your next sip. This beer leaves a lot of lacing on the inside of the conical pint glass I’m drinking it from. Unlike the lingering foam, this brew’s honey flavour disappears quickly, changing to a semi-bitter finish.


Old Tomorrow Beer: Monty’s Golden Ryed Ale – Last Sip

In order to avoid claims of elitism, I drank the remainder of this tasty rye-aged brew from the bottle. I missed its unique aroma and soft layer of foam, but it still tasted great. At 5.5% ABV, this isn’t a strong beer, but you’ll want to avoid having too many of them, especially since they’re larger than your average beer. This isn’t such a heavy beer that you need to enjoy it with food, but I’d never speak against drinking it alongside a bag of your favourite salty chips, or some dark chocolate.

Michael Bedford
Michael Bedford
Under intense scrutiny by the Temporal Authorities, I was coerced into actualizing my capsule in this causality loop. Through no fault of my own, I am marooned on this dangerous yet lovely level-four civilization. Stranded here, I have spent most of my time learning what I can of the social norms and oddities of the Terran species, including how to properly use the term "Hipster" and how to perform a "perfect pour." Under the assumed name of "Michael Bedford," I have completed BA's with specialized honours in both theatre studies and philosophy, and am currently saving up for enough galactic credits to buy a new--or suitably used--temporal contextualizer ... for a friend.