Once upon a time, I was trying out some new beers from a new brewery. This was about six years ago, and if you're lucky you've never heard of them, if you're luckier, you never tried them. I was not as lucky. A salesman came to me, and brought me bottles, filled from a pitcher from the tap, with a single letter Sharpie-d on the cap. B for Brown, A for Amber, and P for Pale Ale. All German styles, he told me, that's what they do, and they're the only ones in the region who do it. No, no, and no. The start-up brewery in Wisconsin, named for a nickname for the state only Minnesotans use, owned by a Minnesotan, they are hardly the only German style brewery anywhere around. (August Schell? Sprecher? Capital?) And those are not German styles. And the salesman was ignorant, and the beers were bad. Seriously bad. Infected. A friend (we now know him as FarmerDave) had it straight from the fermenter and called it infected. I told the distributor, and he lamented this, said he'd try to get better samples out to me.
A new salesman arrived, apologized for the bad samples of the old, now fired salesman, blamed the infection on him, somehow. He brought me more bottles like the others, and I asked if they were also filled from a pitcher. Of course, that's the only way they could do it. (No....) He took a phone call, and I opened the one labeled P. I winced. I shuddered. Bad. Awful. Infected.
See, it's just like the others, it's not good, it's not what a pale ale should be, I told him. His response to this is for the ages. "See, that's just the thing, we're not doing it like everyone else, we're doing our own thing." He then took a sip for himself, and winced. "It just takes some getting used to."
To the novice craft beer drinker, hoppy beer drinker, to the one weaned on a lack of flavor, yes, maybe, then it takes getting used to. But the pale ale style, American or English, is the gateway to other styles. Once you make it in, and can get over that threshold of hops, and start to crave it every time you drink, then you are in, you're done, you've made the scene and you're not going back.
The problem with this salesman was that he didn't know how awful the beer was, and that horrible taste was not something you're supposed to get used to. The pale ale style isn't a trial, it's supposed to be sessionable and easy-drinking, smooth, flavorful, hoppy, but not a chore to choke down. You're not supposed to struggle in the least with this one. You're supposed to pull on it, drain it and grab another, eventually, while doing what you're doing.
But, it's never intended to be a stranger. It's supposed to be a friend.
Left Hand used to have a beer called Jackman's Pale Ale. I didn't think much of it, when I first reviewed it back in 2003...
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Color is pale gold to copper, nice sudsy head. Aroma full of citrus, with a touch of honey. Very smooth on the palate, with just a drizzle of hops playing lightly on the tongue. Practically no bitterness, though, and a hearty malt presence. This one seems to match this mild style called American pale ale, which is an easy try for a milder beer drinker. Doesn't appeal to me much, though. Kind of blase.
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I gave it a C+. Not too thrilled by it.
Now, they have a new APA called Stranger. The artwork on the packaging featured a silhouette of a stranger person entering a bar full of revelling friends, or so it seems. Probably based on photos of Left Hand fans. And here's the copy on the label/carrier: "Friend or foe? Sane or senseless? Harmless or harmful? Sometimes it takes awhile to get to know a stranger. Initial impressions are not always reality , so you must delve deeper. Beyond the initial floral hop aromas, malt sweetness is revealed, yet with a spicy undertone that exposes a very rye sense of humor. Take you time to get to know the stranger. It's strangely satisfying. Sometimes you're not in the mood for what everyone else is having."
Here's what odd about that: The stranger IS the pale ale? It IS the odd thing you need to get to know? It's what no one else is having? If the stranger is that silhouette, walking into that bar...those people are already drinking him! That crowd knows a pale ale, there are no hidden secrets in Cascade hops that a craft beer crowd has yet to discover! The American pale ale is not something foreign and weird that we have got to "get used to." ...unless that copy is meant for macro drinkers, who are poised to take that step into the not-so-wild, pale yonder. Maybe for them, it is a stranger. Or, a friend you haven't met.
Enough of that, here's what I had to say about it:
"Lightly cloudy, pale orange.apricot appearance. Beautiful snowy white head holds it's growing.
Lightly hoppy nose, some fruity esters, delicate dance between bitter and sweet.
Taste: hoppy bitter punch starts it off, then sweetness glides in, integrates, and it all becomes mellow. Glides down the gullet with no effort at all. Pale ales are supposed to be easy drinkers, and this one qualifies handily. Hop bitterness continues to play along the palate, then bids adieu without a trace. Flavors of citrus and stone fruit keep it happy in the mouth, the finish is medium and sweet, the body is lean and likable.
Not terribly interesting, but, damn, if you can't push it past your lips with the greatest of ease. And that's exactly what you want in a pale ale, isn't it?"
So, there you have it. Oddly, I didn't detect the rye malt hinted at in the copy, which should set it apart from typical APAs.
I'm making too big of a deal out of this copy, and illustration, which is certainly not meant for a craft beer crowd. "Strangely satisfying.?" What's strange about a refreshing, hoppy pale ale? Oh, well, maybe if you have to "get used to it."
That brewery, by the way? I told the salesman about the professional brewer who detected signs of infection, and his response was, "we're selling it, no one else complains, why should we change it when it's working?"
They were gone in a matter of months.
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