Last fall, I wrote a column endorsing 40-ounce malt liquors — forties, four dawgs,… Last fall, I wrote a column endorsing 40-ounce malt liquors — forties, four dawgs, fo-fos. Later, five dudes on a bus recognized me as the guy who wrote the column about forties, which I think makes it my most popular column ever. Now, in my final column, I return to the subject, with reviews of forty ounces.

St. Ides

St. Ides has more endorsements from dead musicians than any other forty, with supporters including The Notorious B.I.G., who appeared in a St. Ides commercial, and Elliott Smith, who wrote the song “St. Ides Heaven.”

St. Ides has a shocking chemical tang that might take some getting used to, but it’s well worth the effort, and the practice helps hone a discriminating palette. Strong notes of alcohol harmonize playfully with its smooth, malty texture — a combination that’s perfect on humid summer nights. Or pair St. Ides with a fruit salad and a Black and Mild for a light, mid-morning brunch in the sun.

Mickey’s

Malt liquor is the only species of beverage that tries actively to intimidate its customers, and the Mickey’s’ angry hornet mascot testifies to this trend. Despite the tough talk, weighing in at just 5.6 percent, Mickey’s packs a lighter punch than other premium malt beverages. Mickey’s is accessible but lacks character and resonance, making this forty little more than an introduction to the genre. Nonetheless, I recommend Mickey’s as a charming companion to popcorn.

Laser

Laser bills itself as a “specialty malt liquor,” with “specialty” written in italics to convey a refined experience. Subtle, without capitulating to meekness, Laser exhibits discretion and poise — an artful conservatism that tempts the drinker to drink quickly but rewards lingering contemplation. Pause between sips to appreciate its malty harmonics, and pair it with an avocado for a rich backdrop to this delicious dancing laser show.

Colt 45

Colt 45 is memorable, along with Laser, for being named after a weapon. Billy Dee Williams, better known as Lando Calrissian, better known as the only African American in the first three Star Wars movies, endorsed Colt 45 in a series of commercials where he said, “There are two rules to remember if you want to have a good time. Rule number one: Never run out of Colt 45. Rule number two: Never forget rule number one.” Truer words have never been spoken. A full-bodied swell offsets sweet undertones and endows this premium malt beverage with a boom that’s impossible to ignore. Colt 45 takes the malt beverage concept to its logical extreme — verging on an alcoholic malt milkshake. Pair a Colt 45 with an Argentine beef steak, Irish Potatoes and a big fat Phillies Peach Blunt.

Four O

Four O has the distinction of being the only beverage in the world named after its quantity. Four O is potent, with a 10 percent alcohol content. Simple multiplication means there are no less than four ounces of alcohol in the Four O. The label is strongly reminiscent of the album cover from “Snoop Dogg’s Doggystyle,” just as the experience of drinking a Four O is strongly reminiscent of the experience of recording “Snoop Dogg’s Doggystyle.”

Four O is less a beverage than a journey. As a beverage, it is a catastrophe: The taste combines the worst elements of box wine and beer. A few sips emancipate fruit tones a la Franzia Sangria, but Four O loses these colorful dashes — its only real grounds for an original contribution to the genre — in a flood of bitter defeat a la The Red Sea. As a journey, on the other hand, Four O is a discount one-way ticket to intoxication.

Some malt gourmets might give up on Four O, but it’s better to answer the beverage’s challenge with a creative, DIY remedy. Play to Four O’s strengths, and use it as the base for a Brass Monkey. That means drinking it down to the label and then refilling the bottle with orange juice. Pair that with cereal and a banana for a balanced breakfast.

Olde English 800

The first recorded evidence of premium malt beverages is found in “Beowulf”:

Hwæt! wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum

þeod-cyninga, þrym gefrunon

hu ða æþelingas ellen Olde English

For years, it was unclear from the text how to translate certain quantities of ingredients, such as “three Swede-skulls of malt,” but an archeological treasure trove in Wales yielded a barrel of Olde English 800 — so numbered for the year it was originally brewed — and scientists were able to reverse engineer the original recipe.

The taste of Olde English 800 evokes afternoons at the croquet court. An imperial sophistication not for the faint of heart makes Olde English 800 the go-to forty for a seasoned veteran, although some malt gourmets have remarked on its somewhat lackluster aftertaste. This isn’t to say OE doesn’t deliver down to the last drop, with its unique echoes of unflavored Listerine and Play Doh. Altogether, this premium malt beverage is for the gentleman in the twilight of his forty-drinking career — a man who can still run with the bulls but feels equally content surveying the expanse of time from his South Oakland front porch — a man like me.

Farewell, Pitt. These past five years have been good to the last drop.

E-mail Lewis at [email protected].