The brewery claims this to be a Scottish-style ale, purportedly to account for the lack of spice additions during the brewing process.

This 12oz bottle pours a clear, dark copperish amber hue, with two fingers of fizzy, tightly foamy beige head, which leaves but a few random specks and arches of wasting lace around the glass as it duly recedes.  It smells of caramelized toffee, some crisp gingerbread, a wee bit of besotted fruit, and a mild air of noble earthy hops – rather inviting, to say the least. The taste is sweet, but in somewhat tempered manner, the dark bready malts, brown sugar, and overripe fruitiness barely offset by some roasted nuttiness, mildly herbal hops, and subtle booziness.  The bubbles are a bit tingly, but generally all right, the body a decent medium weight, and slightly afflicted by a flinty edge that muddies up any idea of straight ahead smoothness. It finishes a lot closer to the dry side – earthy, leafy hops stepping up to support the persistent alcohol warming, amongst a more or less steady crystal maltiness.

A tasty enough brew, lots of satisfyingly hearty sweet bits, and none too complicated for warding off the lingering eponymous (for now) seasonal melancholy.