So… Michelob. You think Ultra, yes? And Light. Fair enough. While my natural inclination is to scoff out of hand this thinly veiled offshoot of Zie Anheuser Busch family, well… a lot of Michelob beers are pretty good. Take its stalwart Amber Bock and its new forays into the world of Pale Ale. And then take me in the refrigerated beer aisle seeing a mixed wheat beer 12 pack on sale for $9.99 and we have ourselves a review of Michelob’s Dunkel Weiss.*

I’ll start with my principal criticism: there is almost no hop presence to this beer. Now I know, I know… you’re saying “But Captain Beer! It’s a wheat brew! There’s never a strong hop presence LMFAO! ROFL! BBQ! SOS!” Well… I should cut you. Granted that hops and wheat are usually distant cousins, but here we’re dealing with once-removed third cousin voodoo madness. I need more spice! That’s what I’m getting at.

Overall, though, this is a pleasing beer and a decent example of the style. Its active carbonation keeps the rich, nut brown beery flavors moving. Sweet but not saccharine and with a nice unfiltered mouthfeel, the head diminishes after a few minutes and the Dunkel’s highly drinkable nature means that the rest of the brew soon follows.

*the others will follow… if I don’t consume them all tonight.

Friends, it’s a happy time when a Sam Adams mix pack comes out. As you all know, darker, winter beers are this Captain’s favorite, but summer/spring beers are wondrous too. The most recent mixed 12er I picked up has 2 of each of the following: Boston Lager, Sam Light, Blackberry Wit (finally!), Hefewiezen, Summer Ale and Pale Ale.

I’ve chosen to review that Pale Ale today because I have about three minutes. And the review will be simple, as this beer is basically exactly what you’d expect from a good American Pale Ale.

It’s hop forward but without any sharpness. There is no specific note of pine, grapefruit, etc—now, at times this sort of “general bitterness” would be less, say, intriguing than I like out of a beer. But if you’re eating a good meal, cooling down after exercise, starting off your morning, etc, sometimes you just want a good, balanced pale ale. Not a Pliny the Elder that you’ll taste for hours. Not a Ruinator that will, well, ruin your taste buds for the rest of the day. You just want a drinkable beer. That’s what this is. It’s a pleasantly bitter, refreshing beer with subtle, bready malt and firm but not overbearing hops. Serve it cold when the weather’s hot and then get me three to five more and a sandwich. Turkey club. Mustard, yeah. But no mayo. That stuff’s wack, man.

Fellow Beer-ers and Beer-ettes,

It seems we have been focusing recently on a ‘back to basics’ for beers, and thus I shant disappoint. From New Belgium, a company which in spite of relative youth delivers fine and innovative beers consistently, comes Mighty Arrow Pale Ale. It’s a medium-bodied, medium-hopped pale ale, and it’s just an even-keeled representation of the BJCP guideline. That’s not to say it’s mediocre by any means.

With a perfect copper hue and a rich complement of hops, this is the one that’s the Great Equalizer: Aroma is not too bitter, not too sweet. The blend of Cascade and Amarillo hops makes the mouth water a little before tasting. Nice body, doesn’t stick around too long, and finish isn’t perfect but fairly even, ending with the sweet and bitter notes ping-ponging back and forth.  Bit of a citrus flavor at the end.

It’s a shame I’ve heard there’s a short run of this beer. It’s not the biggest, baddest beer to come from New Belgium, but there’s something to be said for a nice drinkable pale ale.

A  fine young beer, friends! And a Trader Joe’s-available (in fact, it may be an exclusive… someone research that and get back to me*) beer at that, so we’re talking $5.99 a six pack. Most affordable! But let’s not muddle around over who paid what for who when and why and where and let’s focus on this very decent brew. Mission Street’s Pale Ale defines its category: it has a nice golden-amber color beneath a white, medium-thickness head. The body is light and full of active carbonation. The aroma of hops defines its scent—pine and mildly grapefruit hops, to be precise—and its flavor is a lovely interplay of hops bracing a mildly sweet bready malt. It finishes hop-dry and refreshing.

Now I drank this beer in “Winter” if I may call it such here in southern, CA, and that may have been a disservice to the brew. This baby has refreshment written all over it. Or maybe it says “Mission Street” and “Pale Ale” but whatever—this would be a perfect “lawnmower beer” as I call them.** The ABV is relatively low at 4.6% and doesn’t much affect the flavor of the brew. But hey, you can have an extra one and still operate heavy (or lawn-care) machinery. Not that we at Hall of Beers condone that. Unless it’s a golf cart or jet ski or something awesome like that.

* Yeah, it’s exclusive. Those lucky skunks

** You know, “I just finished mowing the lawn and it’s hot and muggy and boy do I need a good BEER BEER BEER!”

OK… so… Beck’s Premier Light:

Meh. Not so hot. Very light malt flavor, the littlest bit of floral-bitter hops in the finish. I mean, the beer has 64 calories—where is the flavor going to hide? It’s refreshing, it’s extremely “drinkable”* meaning… refreshing. That’s about it. But… when you add..

Hooooooowee that’s good sippin’! So the other day (OK like three weeks ago) it was some, oh, 80 degrees in January. So Mrs. Beer and I went for a long bike ride and worked up a summer sweat. Some of our neighbors had just moved out and while they will be missed, they left us beer. Beck’s Premier Light beer, to be precise. So in keeping with a tried and true German tradition, we took said lager and introduced to the beer a goodly dram of lemonade. OK look, no one is saying this was the least bit original or magical or anything… I’m just saying it was delicious. This process will kind of work with your garden variety cheap beers (not Natty cheap—think Coors or Miller) but in order to be really tasty, you need to use a real German beer. Or its American equivalent. Or beer from any other country that makes a similar beer.

But if you want a guaranteed good refreshing beverage, go with:

+

=

Uh…

Well, it’s damn good.

Captain out!

*When did that become an issue? This whole Bud Light “DRINKABILITY” campaign makes me vomit with rage!

This is one of the best stouts I have tried in months. It hangs right up there with some of Rogue and New Belgium and other such top-tier brewery’s offerings. It’s… delicious. Go… go get some. Don’t bother reading this post, just go—hey get back here! OK. That’s better. Have a seat… relax…

Alaskan’s Oatmeal Stout has all the right moves, see? It’s a deep brown when viewed in bright light, black in twilight haze or a tavern’s gloom. Or like… like if you’re at home but don’t have many lights on. Moving on. A nice tan head sits above the dark body, dissipating by the time you’re a third or so of the way in there.  And by the time you’re that far in, you’re well aware that this is a damn good brew.

The oatmeal, while not providing noticable flavors (which is pretty standard) gives the beer a rich, silky smoothness to the body that I found almost unique. Sure, I’ve had plenty of other rich stouts before, from creams to oatmeals to smoked etc etc… but this beer’s texture and mouthfeel stands out from the pack.

And the taste… is good. The aroma is roasty bread and a touch of caramel with a low bitterness profile. In the actual drink and finish the hop prescence asserts itself more, blending nicely with the malt notes. The flavor maintains the toasted bread and caramel aspects from the aroma, adding a coffee and burnt biterness in. Keep in mind all this is swirling around on that amazing body and be glad this beer comes in a six pack.

New year, new beers! We’re back and much the same as ever, beervolk! New Year’s Eve was an extravaganza of wonderful beers and I shall try to get to many of them in time. But I begin 2009 with a review of a good old brew from Yuengling. As I was on the east coast, finally my longing thirst for said brewery was slaked. Today we discuss their Lord Chesterfield Ale. Or rather I dogmatically drone; you read receptively.

You all know what we in the Hall think of Yuengling Lager. It is superb. Liquid pleasure. Their Lord Chesterfiled Ale is perhaps less distinct than the lager, but it is a very good beer. And what it lacks in unique notes, it makes up for by exemplifying the taste of a basic ale. It has the characteristics of a good German beer. The hops are there in the aroma and brace the malt flavor, ultimately defining the finish. The light golden body and thin white head contain more malt-hop interplay than you might expect from the beer’s appearance. The flavor is simple but satisfying and refreshing. This could be a dinner, hors d’ouvre or session beer. Or all three at once. Whatever your thing is, man.

And… yet another deep doff of the cap. What… a… beer. I finally spotted a Sam Adams Holiday Pack the other day and leapt onto it, shattering every bottle and injuring a small Navajo boy. I wept at the lost beer for several hours and then, assured the young lad was resting soundly, went out for another Holiday Pack. And this baby packs a punch. Of great beer. We’re talking 2 Boston Lagers, 2 Winter Ales (oh man), 2 Cranberry Lambics (aw yeah), 2 Old Fezziwig Ales (ooh spelling… I really should check that…), 2 Holiday Porters (hell yeah) and 2 of these babies. Or, in latin effin beerum bliss, man. Um.

Where to begin? With the pour? Good thinking. I used a room temperature spherical glass, of course. The beer is a deep, rich mahogany brown. The head is a rich tan color and pour carefully: if you do, you have a thick foam friend for most of the brau!* If you don’t… I hope you have some time on your hands to let it dissipate. Maybe try to get some weeding done? ANYWAY! The aroma of this lovely stout is rich bread—almost sweet enough to have a coffee cake scent—and hints of hops and spice.

Ah and then you drink it. Happy day. Rich, thick and smooth (just like so many corpulent, balding hedge fund managers). The thick, cream body is provided by the use of unmalted barley in the brewing process. This is barley that has not been allowed to germinate and convert its starches to fermentable sugars, for those of you who didn’t know (you should likely caaaaaaalllll someone. Maybe your local homebrew store). The unmalted barley contributes a thickness to the beer because its starches don’t break down into alcohol and CO2. We lazy homebrewers use dry malt extract for the same effect.

Moving along—the good brewers at Samuel Adams saw fit to use chocolate and caramel malts. The beer is a mouth-party** of malt: toasted bread, coffee, dark chocolate, amazing. A generous addition of English hops balance but do not interfere with the malt backbone. The beer has just enough spice to keep it deftly balanced but still big. And beautiful. 

* from the German for “barley sac”

** just go with it…

During an inebriated trip to Cost Plus World Market upon a winter’s eve (last Monday, yes I walked), I stumbled through the aisles seeking to add to the dwindling beer supplies in my fridge. Before me I saw the usual seasonal samplers, the ‘Winter Pack’ which looked promising, and then a newer, more specific ‘Holiday Pack!’ Intrigued, I looked at the contents. They all seemed to be from a tiny Brewery in the UK called ‘Shelton Brothers’, I didn’t know it, and they seemed to have goofy holiday-related titles, most of them reasonably imaginative- then one caught my eye.

Santa’s…Butt. Jesus. Lord. That’s…crazy. Why would someone buy a beer entitled ‘Santa’s Butt’, I thought? What compels someone to think, ‘Hey, that’s an awesome name for a beer!’? I stared at the others- Bad Elf, Reindeer Revolt, Warm Welcome…Santa’s Butt.

And it’s a porter! Scatalogical references aside, I don’t want to think of Kris Kringle’s frozen, hairy, sweaty, North Pole ass when I’m drinking a porter! It’s supposed to be a sweet, malty chocolatey experience, and it’s admittedly now slightly tarnished by this lewd title.

With a bit of trepidation, I poured this strange brew into a fresh pint glass. Before me was a medium-bodied Engish Porter (looked like one, anyway). I expected a small tan head, but it dissipated pretty quickly. I served it after waiting some time out of the fridge to get ‘er up to 50º or so, but even then, the aroma wasn’t great. Down the hatch it went.

It has a slight chocolate start as I expected, but it didn’t last long. English Porters are far more bitter than the American Variety, but I still expected a little more sweet than roast. I don’t fault the brew for being loyal to the style, but it just falls into the generic category. The body is light enough to drink the whole 16.9-oz. bottle in one sitting (and the 6.0% ABV is light enough), but with the bitter quality, I’d recommend enjoying Santa’s Butt with a strong cheese or even steak to help it along. Ridgeway Brewing has done a decent, honest English Porter, but only the unappetizing name separates it from the rest.

Happy Holidays to All,

Sarge out

All I can think of at the moment is that scene in Dances With Wolves where Kevin Costner is yelling “Tatonka!” and making little horns with his fingers. Always good for a larf. Watch that movie and see how many times he flops onto his back in a comical manner… I believe the count is 4 which may not seem high but when you focus on it, it… is.

OK… on to the beer! BJ’s, a limited California chain, has some great food and some damn good beer, not to mention excellent prices on their 5 and 7 glass five ounce beer sampler flights. A great way to have a lot of great beer. I could (and likely will eventually) write at some length on each of their 6 standard beers and rotating seasonals, but I’m going to focus on their Tatonka Stout this time. Thus the heading of this review. Yeh…

The Tatonka Stout is BJ’s darkest and most, shall we say, serious offering. It is in the Imperial Stout style, meaning a few things: it is high in ABV (just a hair over 8%—bam!), it is dark as the bajeezus with a thick, creamy head and it is big on flavor. Let’s start with the head and body. That thick creamy foamy top stays with you the whole way. After each sip, you can see a new ring of caramel-white foam clinging to the glass, telling you the history of your beer like so many tree’s rings. The mouthfeel is, in typical Imperial (or “double” sometimes) stout fashion, full but not heavy. It almost has a light milky quality, silkily gliding around until you quaff the beer down.

The taste… big, deep, roasty malt dominates the flavor. The brew has notes of burnt grain, coffee and black bread to it. Those bold flavors are balanced by a bracing hop bitterness that begins to overtake your your tastebuds after the finish*. I love it, but for the more timid, callow, foppish among us, the powerful flavors and unique body of this Imperial stout may be too much. Not that their opinions count.

* Awesome alliteration as always, Captain!