5/19/21: Seventh Son Brewing Company's Abaddon

3:10 PM

This is a post I've been anxiously anticipating, and I hope it's the first in what becomes a series that'll run the next few months.

See, 2021 marks another emergence of Brood X, cicadas that flood Greater Cincinnati every seventeen years. Knowing this was coming, and knowing that I'm the kind of person to geek out over the bugs, I'd been keeping my eyes peeled for cicada-themed beers. So far, I've found only one: Seventh Son's Abaddon. I bought this back in March and it's been kicking around my fridge since. I'm really hoping that Cincy breweries will hop aboard the cicada train as Brood X continues to hang around this summer.

Today's special, though, because I spotted my first cicada of the brood this morning before leaving for work. It was hanging out on a locust tree in my back yard, breaking free from its shell--a sight I'd never seen before. Sensing a photo-op (okay, because Michelle suggested it), I quickly ran inside and pulled my can of Abaddon from the fridge. In my eyes, the emergence has officially begun. To mark it, here're my thoughts on Seventh Son's Abaddon.

Seventh Son's located in Columbus, OH's Italian Village. According to their (now defunct) "Story" page, the brewery's the brainchild of three childhood friends: Jen Burton, Travis Spence, and Collin Castore. The three of them love beer and opened Seventh Son in an effort to help build a strong beer/brewing culture in Columbus.

Abaddon (which doesn't have a writeup on Seventh Son's website so I'm pulling my info from Untappd) is named after the biblical angel of the abyss. This Belgian Quadrupel, brewed with abbey yeast, candi syrup, and spices, tastes of orange, white pepper, dried fruit, and port wine. Oh, and it's 10.5% ABV, according to my can.

The quad's bouquet is delectable. Big waves of caramel, toffee, dark fruits, clove, banana, and baker's chocolate wash over me with my first waft. A return begets some orange and a slight hint of the alcohol--no boozy burn, though. It's delicious, unless you're Purrl. If you're Purrl, you only give it three whiffs because, presumably, it's too sweet for your liking.

The flavor profile from my can is just as bombastic as the nose. The dark fruits, the clove, the banana, the orange (a lot of orange), the port--it's all here. There's also some herbal, hoppy bitterness here that grounds the ale and imparts something of a coffee-like quality to it. And I'd be remiss if I neglected to mention the alcohol. It's here in the long finish (nestled comfortably between the orange and the caramel), spreading warmth across my face.

This is a smooth-drinking beer. It's creamy and full; everything I would want from an ale that tastes like Abaddon does.

I can't recall ever experiencing a seventeen-year cicada brood before. My mom tells me that I have--a few summers after we'd first moved to Ohio, in fact. All I know is that I'm unbelievably excited for this summer. I look forward to the annual cicadas; they make me think of trips to the beach, ice cream, fireworks, cookouts, and driving with the windows rolled down, among other things. A whole summer of that? Sign me up.

Here's to hoping I can make a series of cicada-themed beer. Not beer brewed with cicadas, mind you--I'm not about that. But beers with art and/or names featuring or inspired by cicadas. I'm happy that I was able to kick this (fingers crossed) series off with Seventh Son's Abaddon. It's a top-tier quad, and, honestly, it's now in my top three examples of the style. My can's getting a 9.5/10.

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