Yet Another Fruity Post

This is an important piece of trivia that is very important to both myself and anyone reading this blog - I love fruity beers. Judge me all you want, but in general, if done correctly, I think there is huge potential for fruit flavorings to improve brews drastically (particularly in the drinkability department - try drinking five or ten of something straightforward and heavy like Old Chub or Guinness back to back, then try the same with something light and fruity like Purple Haze, and you'll see precisely what I mean). The significant downside to this is the likelihood of the fruit flavoring to overwhelm or completely drown out the more subtle aspects of the brew. In fact, this is so common that I find it almost impossible for fruity beers to skew heavily toward terrible or amazing - they simply consistently fall in the "pretty damn good" category (though there are of course exceptions, see my post on Dogfish Head's Punkin Ale).

Though not quite as reliable as blueberry, raspberry is definitely one of the more consistently successful beer/fruit fusions. And, accordingly, Great Divide has done an admirable job with their Wild Raspberry Ale. Like any above-average fruit-inspired brew, the raspberry taste is present with varying intensity throughout the drinking experience; it hits hard at first taste, then falls into the background to allow the more subtle elements of the ale to come forward, and finally returns in full force during the extended aftertaste. In terms of its execution of a fruit flavor, this is close to a ten out of ten.

The problem, though, with this beer is not it's choice or methodology of added flavor (as was the problem with the aforemention Punkin Ale), but instead lies in its underlying ale. Basically, Great Divide build an amazing raspberry structure on an unfortunately weak ale foundation. As soon as that raspberry flavor recedes mid-tasting, it becomes abundantly clear that if not for it this would simply be a subpar, unexceptional beer. It's a classic case of a brew hiding behind its hook - a drastic mistake in some cases (see Punkin yet again), and sometimes simply unfortunate, such as here.

Great Divide absolutely has the process to create a fruit-infused brew down. If it could only start improving its base formulas, the brewery could easily work its way up to being one of my favorites.

Great Divide Wild Raspberry Ale
Overall Rating: 7/10

Hidden Punkins

Okay, like most people I look forward to the fall season, when pumpkins magically transform from garish "decorative" monstrosities avoided by nearly everyone to a ridiculously common ingredient in both decor and cuisine. Why? Pumpkin pie. And pumpkin cookies. And my personal favorite, pumpkin pancakes (thank you, by the way, random diner in Austin, for blowing my mind with your delicious pumpcakes - oh yes, pumpcakes). And yes, of course, if a flavor is able to be put in food, odds are some crazy person has taken it and stuck it in a beer at some point.

Luckily, pumpkin beers are generally fantastic. Unfortunately, Dogfish Head's Punkin Ale is not.

Rather than take advantage of the season to experiment with a flavor that is overwhelmingly ignored for the bulk of the year, Dogfish Head is clearly taking advantage of others' risks with a tame and ultimately very underwhelming seasonal brew. Essentially a subpar brown ale, the so-called "punkin" (which, by the way, is an adorable pronunciation to say aloud but should never be used in marketing something that successfully avoids being any kind of adorable in every possible way) exists only as a barely discernable aftertaste that causes far more of a "hmph." reaction than the likely desired "oooh!". When compared directly side by side with some of the other pumpkin-inspired beers of the season, this not only doesn't stack up, it noticeably disappoints.

As the unfortunate recipient of my lowest score yet (significantly, at that), I feel it deserves at least a few redeeming words. Taken exclusively as a brown ale, this probably would have fared slightly better, but it fails to stand out at all in that department. The "something special" that they've added does nothing but disappoint, simply because of the potential for it to be so much more amazing than it is.

It should also be noted that the $11 I paid for a 4-pack of bottles of this certainly did not help its cause.

Dogfish Head Punkin Ale
Overall Rating: 3/10

Blue Moon (for Barack)

My drink of choice while following this year's election results was unquestionably Blue Moon. Though annoyingly macro in its origins (the "brewery" recently finally got its own website, and is no longer simply a small subsection of Coors' site), Blue Moon has been the most commercially available Belgian white beer everywhere I have lived in the last five years, and as a result has become another mainstay in my fridge (I know, I know, Blue Moon and Wild Blue are the only "staples" I've mentioned thus far, judge away, but they're more like guilty pleasures that I indulge in far too often). Thus, when it came time to plant myself in front of the television last night and watch Obama's crushing defeat of McCain, a sixer of Blue Moon naturally came with me.

Blue Moon is interesting for two very specific reasons. First, it is made by Coor's, and yet, oddly, I'd say it falls far more in the realm of delicious than, say, piss-esque (see: Coors Light). Also, it is definitely a member of the relatively small family of brews that is wildly altered by almost any change in the method of consumption. For starters, like most quality beers there is a notable difference between bottle and draft, but this difference becomes drastic with Blue Moon due to two factors: garnish and pouring method. As a Belgian white it clearly has plenty of wheat and sediment going into its production, and an inexperienced pour (or, even worse, drinking straight from the bottle) may result in a seriously diminished taste or texture experience.

Secondly, Blue Moon with an orange wedge or peel added is, quite simply, a remarkably different beast. Not to say it is mindblowingly amazing (though it is quite good), the impression is made far more simply by the variance in taste - add an orange to a pint of Blue Moon and you essentially be drinking an entirely different drink as far as taste is concerned. More than any other beer, in my early days of trying every new brew I could get my hands on Blue Moon taught me to experiment with glass and garnish.

Again, I must reiterate that Blue Moon is generally average when taken as a straightforward Belgian white brew. It is in its potential variety that it gets its strength, and why it is easy to get through a sixpack rather quickly with a small collection of glasses and an orange while watching an elderly gentleman and a rather attractive yet dimwitted hockey mom lose a national election they were inexplicably a part of to begin with.

Blue Moon
Overall Rating: 7/10