Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Beer 6: Breckenridge SummerBright Ale
It's hot. Really hot. And I just walked three miles in a track jacket and jeans. To the gym. And back. In short, I think I'm turning to liquid, so this might be a short entry.
Since I'm now partially fused with fire, I'm looking for today's beer, which happens to be Breckenridge's SummerBright Ale, to come up big in the "icy cold deliciousness" department. Since it hails from Colorado, the first part shouldn't be a problem. Let's find out.
I was right. The first part wasn't a problem. The second? Well...
If you're actually looking for an honest-to-God, complex-but-rewarding, sit-around-and-think kind of summer wheat, keep on walking. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that someone craftily stole the label from the real SummerBright, slapped it on a bottle of Bud, handed it to me, and dashed off to watch and giggle. If I wasn't dying, I might consider lodging a complaint.
Ah, but there's the trick.
Though I may be biased by my current condition, I think I can say that this is the most revitalizing beer that has ever passed my lips. I could drink 15 more and be fine, as long as they kept making me feel this good.
Moral of the story: If you're ever on fire, drink this beer. Or a different beer. Or some water. Or, you know, anything wet and cold. If not, pass. In the end, life-giving or not, this stuff simply did its job as a liquid. As a beer, it failed. Critically.
Though, they do get point for the molester-faced sun on the label. That, sir, is nightmare-inducing.
Since I'm now partially fused with fire, I'm looking for today's beer, which happens to be Breckenridge's SummerBright Ale, to come up big in the "icy cold deliciousness" department. Since it hails from Colorado, the first part shouldn't be a problem. Let's find out.
I was right. The first part wasn't a problem. The second? Well...
If you're actually looking for an honest-to-God, complex-but-rewarding, sit-around-and-think kind of summer wheat, keep on walking. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that someone craftily stole the label from the real SummerBright, slapped it on a bottle of Bud, handed it to me, and dashed off to watch and giggle. If I wasn't dying, I might consider lodging a complaint.
Ah, but there's the trick.
Though I may be biased by my current condition, I think I can say that this is the most revitalizing beer that has ever passed my lips. I could drink 15 more and be fine, as long as they kept making me feel this good.
Moral of the story: If you're ever on fire, drink this beer. Or a different beer. Or some water. Or, you know, anything wet and cold. If not, pass. In the end, life-giving or not, this stuff simply did its job as a liquid. As a beer, it failed. Critically.
Though, they do get point for the molester-faced sun on the label. That, sir, is nightmare-inducing.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Beer 5: Bell's Oberon Ale
After a soild weekend spent living the rock and roll lifestyle, it’s back to the grind for some no-nonsense Monday updatin’.
It’s been quite warm here over the past few days, so having refreshing seasonal beers on hand at all time is of the utmost importance. Fortunately, I still have three bottles left in the seasonal sampler that I made for myself last week at Bloomington’s own Big Red Liquors. Right now, I’m about to crack open #4 - Bell’s Oberon.
Ah, Bell’s. My roommate and fellow beer lover Drew has always spoken highly of this brew from the Great Lakes State, but I’ve never actually had the pleasure to make its acquaintance until now. As a lifelong fan of the Fightin’ Irish, I’m usually leery of all things spawned in Wolverine Country. However, even when vanquishing enemies, I always have to to pause long enough to drink his beer first.
This man is not my friend.
Drew was right: Oberon is impressive. Normally, when I crack open any kind of wheat-based spring seasonal, I’m met with the smell of either oranges or coriander. Not one for following trends, eschews the typical accents in favor of something unexpected: the grapefruit. Personally, I like this move. Of all the citrus fruits, grapefruit is the unsung hero, and its natural bitterness is the perfect opener for Oberon’s hop-loaded ending notes.
Hail to the king.
With all the bitterness bounding around, you’d imagine that Oberon might pack a whallop of an ending: you’d be right. For some reason, I really noticed this one. It was like chewing on a citrus peel: not a terrible experience in and of itself, but not something I’d like to do every day. This is a minor complaint, though, and possibly a personal on. If you’re looking for a smooth, professional wheat beer to provide that cooling touch this summer, Oberon might be just godly enough to do it.
It’s been quite warm here over the past few days, so having refreshing seasonal beers on hand at all time is of the utmost importance. Fortunately, I still have three bottles left in the seasonal sampler that I made for myself last week at Bloomington’s own Big Red Liquors. Right now, I’m about to crack open #4 - Bell’s Oberon.
Ah, Bell’s. My roommate and fellow beer lover Drew has always spoken highly of this brew from the Great Lakes State, but I’ve never actually had the pleasure to make its acquaintance until now. As a lifelong fan of the Fightin’ Irish, I’m usually leery of all things spawned in Wolverine Country. However, even when vanquishing enemies, I always have to to pause long enough to drink his beer first.
This man is not my friend.
Drew was right: Oberon is impressive. Normally, when I crack open any kind of wheat-based spring seasonal, I’m met with the smell of either oranges or coriander. Not one for following trends, eschews the typical accents in favor of something unexpected: the grapefruit. Personally, I like this move. Of all the citrus fruits, grapefruit is the unsung hero, and its natural bitterness is the perfect opener for Oberon’s hop-loaded ending notes.
Hail to the king.
With all the bitterness bounding around, you’d imagine that Oberon might pack a whallop of an ending: you’d be right. For some reason, I really noticed this one. It was like chewing on a citrus peel: not a terrible experience in and of itself, but not something I’d like to do every day. This is a minor complaint, though, and possibly a personal on. If you’re looking for a smooth, professional wheat beer to provide that cooling touch this summer, Oberon might be just godly enough to do it.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Beers 3 and 4: Upland Maibock and Saison
It's the end of the weekend, and, as usual, that’s pretty terrible. However, in addition to the haunting sounds of not-far-off commuter traffic, Sunday night brings a shining spot along with it this week: the first-ever Beer Daily Double Sunday. Something tells me that, with the way most of my weekends go, these are going to be the rule rather than the exception. But, don’t let the knowledge of postless Saturdays dampen the promise of these weekly superposts. Balance is awesome.
Fuckin’ rad.
Now, with that out of the way... behold, beers!
Since yesterday’s foray into the world of AM beer-drinking went so well, I decided that a repeat was in order for Saturday. So, armed with my trusty pint glass, I plunged right into a spring seasonal from one of Indiana’s most famous breweries: Bloomington’s Upland Brewing Company.
Upland has been one of the best parts of my stay in Bloomington. There’s something about being within walking distance of a top flight brewery that makes even dreary spring rains seem not quite so bad. Today’s beer, Maibock, is Upland’s own answer to the less than beautiful days of mid-spring. Forget sunshine and grains of paradise: this stuff is for fortification.
Maibock might kick your face off.
I knew that I was in for a different sort of morning as soon as Maibock’s rusty amber hit the bottom of my glass. Just to reiterate: this isn’t your average spring beer. The rich smells of caramel, toffee, and roasted spices that issued forth next confirmed this. If Friday’s beer was orange juice, this stuff was coffee.
Flavor-wise, Maibock sports the strong, complex malts found in many of Upland’s signature brews. This fact, combined with the brew’s 7.5% ABV, made for an uncharacteristically stiff morning beverage. However, later in the day, this brew’s complete lack of alcoholic aftertaste would make for a dangerously drinkable choice for bock fans everywhere.
Suitably light-headed but fully awake, I rinsed out my glass in time to catch a ride to Muncie with my roommates. The occasion? The final local performance of hometown merrymakers Everything, Now! at the one and only Heorot Pub and Draught House. For those of you unfamiliar with the Heorot, imagine the meadhall from Beowulf combined with 350 beers from around the globe. Essentially, this place is a beer-drinker’s Valhalla on Earth, and pretty much the only reason to go to Muncie on purpose. In honor of the new blog, and to feed my own curiousities, I decided to indulge in another Upland seasonal while waiting for the show to start.
Upland’s Saison piqued my interests when I read its entry in the brewery catalogue while waiting for a round of $2 pints one anonymous Sunday evening in december. Though it was out of season at the time, I decided to track it down as soon as possible (which, according to the catalogue, would be July). Imagine my surprise when, while browsing the daunting selection that stood before me at the Heorot’s bar, I noticed that Saison was still on the menu. I can only assume that the keg they had was a holdover from last season, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass without taking advantage.
Wow.
I’m not sure if it was the advanced age of the beer or the fact that I’ve never actually tried a saison before, but it only took me a few sips to fall completely in love with the drink at hand. I can safely say that Upland’s Saison provided the most unique flavor experience that I’ve ever had in a beer. Packed full of florals and off-the-wall fruit scents (I mean, maple? banana? Who’d’ve thought?), Saison’s unique smell is outdone only by its taste. Oh, the taste. Hints of anise, honey, and a host of numerous other herbs and spices all combine to form a meadow in a bottle that’ll knock you back a few with its gentle, yet pronounced sweetness. At the end, the whole thing finishes with a pleasant tartness reminiscent of fresh fruit or hard candy. After a beer like that, Everything, Now!’s rollicking concert was simply icing on the cake.
Visit the Upland site through the link on the toolbar for more info on when to pick up more of their fantastic seasonal beers. Tomorrow, it’s back to the daily grind. Drink up.
Fuckin’ rad.
Now, with that out of the way... behold, beers!
Since yesterday’s foray into the world of AM beer-drinking went so well, I decided that a repeat was in order for Saturday. So, armed with my trusty pint glass, I plunged right into a spring seasonal from one of Indiana’s most famous breweries: Bloomington’s Upland Brewing Company.
Upland has been one of the best parts of my stay in Bloomington. There’s something about being within walking distance of a top flight brewery that makes even dreary spring rains seem not quite so bad. Today’s beer, Maibock, is Upland’s own answer to the less than beautiful days of mid-spring. Forget sunshine and grains of paradise: this stuff is for fortification.
Maibock might kick your face off.
I knew that I was in for a different sort of morning as soon as Maibock’s rusty amber hit the bottom of my glass. Just to reiterate: this isn’t your average spring beer. The rich smells of caramel, toffee, and roasted spices that issued forth next confirmed this. If Friday’s beer was orange juice, this stuff was coffee.
Flavor-wise, Maibock sports the strong, complex malts found in many of Upland’s signature brews. This fact, combined with the brew’s 7.5% ABV, made for an uncharacteristically stiff morning beverage. However, later in the day, this brew’s complete lack of alcoholic aftertaste would make for a dangerously drinkable choice for bock fans everywhere.
Suitably light-headed but fully awake, I rinsed out my glass in time to catch a ride to Muncie with my roommates. The occasion? The final local performance of hometown merrymakers Everything, Now! at the one and only Heorot Pub and Draught House. For those of you unfamiliar with the Heorot, imagine the meadhall from Beowulf combined with 350 beers from around the globe. Essentially, this place is a beer-drinker’s Valhalla on Earth, and pretty much the only reason to go to Muncie on purpose. In honor of the new blog, and to feed my own curiousities, I decided to indulge in another Upland seasonal while waiting for the show to start.
Upland’s Saison piqued my interests when I read its entry in the brewery catalogue while waiting for a round of $2 pints one anonymous Sunday evening in december. Though it was out of season at the time, I decided to track it down as soon as possible (which, according to the catalogue, would be July). Imagine my surprise when, while browsing the daunting selection that stood before me at the Heorot’s bar, I noticed that Saison was still on the menu. I can only assume that the keg they had was a holdover from last season, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass without taking advantage.
Wow.
I’m not sure if it was the advanced age of the beer or the fact that I’ve never actually tried a saison before, but it only took me a few sips to fall completely in love with the drink at hand. I can safely say that Upland’s Saison provided the most unique flavor experience that I’ve ever had in a beer. Packed full of florals and off-the-wall fruit scents (I mean, maple? banana? Who’d’ve thought?), Saison’s unique smell is outdone only by its taste. Oh, the taste. Hints of anise, honey, and a host of numerous other herbs and spices all combine to form a meadow in a bottle that’ll knock you back a few with its gentle, yet pronounced sweetness. At the end, the whole thing finishes with a pleasant tartness reminiscent of fresh fruit or hard candy. After a beer like that, Everything, Now!’s rollicking concert was simply icing on the cake.
Visit the Upland site through the link on the toolbar for more info on when to pick up more of their fantastic seasonal beers. Tomorrow, it’s back to the daily grind. Drink up.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Beer 2: Orange Blossom Pilsner
I was so excited by last night’s entry that I decided to get an early start on today’s review. Usually, I reserve breakfast beers for day I don’t plan to remember, but today seemed like one in need of a sunshine infusion. As I looked out over the wet pavement outside my window, I decided to break out a bottle straight from the Sunshine State itself: Unique Beers’ Orange Blossom Pilsner.
Hailing from Florida-by-way-of-Maryland, Unique Beers’ flagship brew has high aspiration: according to their website, OBP is part of an effort to save Florida, described therein as the "Great Beer Wasteland", from mediocrity and macrobrews alike. Accordingly, OBP hangs its hat on honey; the bottle features all of your standard bee-related images, in addition to a prominently displayed bronze medal from the 2004 Great American Beer Festival. The makers are also keen to let you know that their beer is made with 30% orange blossomn honey. We’re set up to be impressed before the bottle’s even open.
Honey! It’s made from honey!
In all honesty, the stuff’s not that bad. It gets knocked around pretty well by some reviewers, but I didn’t find it as acutely offensive as most of them seem to. As I poured it, the faint smell of Honeycomb cereal hit my nose. This was fine: I happen to like Honeycomb, and, seeing as I was drinking this beer during a cereal-appropriate time of day, it was a nice way to start the day.
Honeycomb’s got big, big taste. Too bad this beer doesn’t.
After the auspicious beginning, things headed south. After a few drinks, it became readily apparent that this beer wasn’t going to win many people over based on taste alone. The honey that smelled prominent was muted in the flavor department. What did come through reminded me of mead, and gave the beer the slick feel you might associate with typical sweet wines. The subtleness wasn't an edge or a hindrance. Really, it just was.
The aftertaste was, for me, a little schizophrenic. After some drinks, all I could taste was bitter, like tears of failure or Alex Russell’s face. Then, after others, I could’ve sworn that the honey I’d been promised was finally coming though, and bringing hints of citrus with it. Eventually, it became like a game. A long, not terribly interesting game. With beers. And sometimes bees.
I also noticed a not altogether unpleasant fizziness throughout, a quality that did more to wake me up than the taste and smell combined.
Overall, while it wasn’t anything to write home about, and while I’ll probably never go out of my way to drink another bottle, Orange Blossom Pilsner is nowhere near as bad as some might have you believe. In fact, if I could only drink beer during those blurry morning hours, this one might actually vie for a regular spot in my cooler. Find out more right here.
Also, because I’m both curious and comment-hungry, I’ll ask this: on those days when you drink in the morning, what’s your poison of choice. I usually go with a nice bloody mary. Nothing says classy alcoholism like vodka, Tabasco, and a surly disposition.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Beer 1: Goose Island Summertime
For the first post on this new blog, I wanted to cover a beer that I’ve been really high on ever since I finally tried it towards the end of last summer. As the summer seasonal offering from Chicago’s Goose Island, Summertime is the Illinois brewer’s capable foray into the world of Kölsch bier.
Well, sort of.
See, according to the complicated world of brewing, a beer is only a Kölsch if it meet the following requirements: it must be brewed in or around Cologne, Germany (the city from which the beer gets its name), and, like many German beers, it must conform to the German purity laws, also known as the Reinheitsgebot. What does that mean for you, the consumer? Well, if you actually listen to my recommendation and get yourself some Summertime, you won’t be getting an truly authentic Kölsch; rather, what you’ll actually have is a fine American replica of an international favorite. Kind of like this:
American soccer: 100% of the action, 10% of the interest.
Personally, given my geography, that’s good enough for me. Also, Chicago lucks out by sharing enough letters with Cologne to occasionally confuse spellcheck, so, in the spirit of inclusion, I’m willing to bend the rules. No other city could get away with this, though. Milwaukee, I’m looking at you.
Milwaukee: We’ll Start Some Shit
Anyway, back to the drink at hand. As you might’ve guessed based on the name, Summertime is one of those beers best enjoyed when you’re almost too hot to live. Its mild bitterness, coupled with a clean finish and refreshing carbonation, renders it insanely drinkable. While some might label its flavor as thin or lacking, I find it subtle enough to handle during the fires of summer and just memorable enough to keep you heading back to the fridge. Plus, unlike many other summer seasonals, Summertime doesn’t fall into the sweetness trap. You won’t find coriander anywhere near this bottle, which is a relief. It’s a well-known fact that coriander ruins everything. That son of a bitch.
Fuck YOU!!
I remember the barbeque I went to the night I found this lifesaver. The Colts were about to play the Giants, the chicken had just finished roasting, and I was sweating through my teeth. Luckily, I’d picked up some of this on a whim. Before I knew it, I was five beers in, debating the relative merits of the cover 2 defense with a girl who, as I later found out, had never watched football before. In short, it was a great night.
In summation, if you’re a fan of wheat beers who’s in search of something lighter for enjoyment during the coming dog days, Summertime just might be your match. It’s not the greatest beer on the planet, but it’s not going to let you down when the going gets burn-y. I can only hope to match its workman-like dedication in my own, more blog-related endeavours.
Check out more from Goose Island via that link over yonder, and come back tomorrow. We're doing this all over again!
The name says it all.
Hello. My name is Tyler and, like many of you, I'm a giant lazy asshole. Sure, I talk a good game, but deep down, my ambition runs just deep enough to get me interested in something (playing bocce ball, for instance, or modernist novels). However, once I'm actually out on the green, or knee deep in Proust, my drive disappears, leaving me with a vague sense of dissatisfaction and a handful of wooden balls. As you might imagine, this is a problem for me.
However, sometimes an idea comes along that's so perfect, so fitting, that even my television-addled attention spans sits up and takes notice. You're looking at one of these ideas. The plan is simple: every day, for at least the next year, I plan to combine two of my favorite activities: drinking beer, and assigning arbitrary numerical values to objects based on personally-created criteria. For the next 365 days, I'll have a different beer every day, then share my thoughts on the subject with the world at large. Some beers will be old favorites, some will be new discoveries; all will be delicious. And, if some autobiography and anecdotes manage to slip their way into the discussion, well, so be it.
Also, we'll have guests! And more. So, stick around. The inaugural brew is only minutes away from consumption.
Feel free to get excited.
However, sometimes an idea comes along that's so perfect, so fitting, that even my television-addled attention spans sits up and takes notice. You're looking at one of these ideas. The plan is simple: every day, for at least the next year, I plan to combine two of my favorite activities: drinking beer, and assigning arbitrary numerical values to objects based on personally-created criteria. For the next 365 days, I'll have a different beer every day, then share my thoughts on the subject with the world at large. Some beers will be old favorites, some will be new discoveries; all will be delicious. And, if some autobiography and anecdotes manage to slip their way into the discussion, well, so be it.
Also, we'll have guests! And more. So, stick around. The inaugural brew is only minutes away from consumption.
Feel free to get excited.