Flying Dog Woody Creek White

Flying Dog Woody Creek White Belgian Wit 2009

by Michael Stein

If Hoegarden is your gold-standard of white or wit beers, Flying Dog Brewery’s Woody Creek White Belgian Wit gives the legendary bière blanche a run for its money.

The golden liquid is like a blissful Belgian kiss from an artisanal well. Its fresh-tasting spiciness is evidence enough, yet should you need further proof you will have to sample some after eating habanera enchiladas doused in jalapeno-seed sauce. Despite the light color, the beer has good taste, a strong hint of coriander followed by spices. A good test of a Hefe or Wit is how it tastes when it is warm. And while I wouldn’t recommend drinking warm beer, whenever I get to the end of a Pualaner Hefeweizen, though it is not as frosty and hazy as when it was first poured, Paulaner’s spice is still highly detectable. This beer tastes less spicy at its end compared to when it is first poured at the peak of its most frosty-hazy freshness. Like Paulaner, Woody’s Wit is perfect for a summer session on a steaming hot day.

Not too long ago, an American craft-brew beating out a Belgian was a hilarious thought. Today, California can brag to the French about a French wine being second-rate to its American cousin. (I’d like to think that that fact alone makes up for our attempt to white-wash America’s favorite fried food and re-dub them “freedom fries.”) Based on the merits and the solid taste of the Flying Dog brew, I think its high time America rock the boat in the pond and create wakes for the Belgian gold-standard. However comparing Flying Dog to InBev is a lot like the matchup between David and Goliath.

Distribution aside, it is no small feat that the Flying Dog Brewery has out-classed the Belgian brewers at their own wit. A beer company that started in Colorado and produces beer in Maryland, Flying Dog refers to the town of Woody Creek, CO (Hunter Thompson’s death location) as the “Gonzo Ground Zero”. The bottles bear Thompson’s quote, “good people drink good beer.”

If the bottle is believed, that good people do in fact drink good beer, the good folks at Enron must have been drinking 12-month old warm Schlitz Ice Bull. That is not to say that there are not good folks working for Anheuser-Busch, or InBev, but the good people that brew Flying Dog have a solid lock on the wit bier.

Beyond the taste, Flying Dog is a very user-friendly beer. The beers even comes with a handy flavor-scale printed on the 6-pack. Traditionally, we’d have to judge a beer by its ABV % and occasionally, its IBUs if we needed to know how bitter or hoppy it was. In fact, most beers don’t bear their IBU count at all, as it is reserved typically for IPAs or other more heavily hopped beers. The Woody Creek White tapers off at 4.9% ABV and 17 IBUs. Next to the flavor scale, pitting “Malty” and “Hoppy” at odd ends of the spectrum, is another little scale that appears to be a color scale. The color scale pits “Light” at one end and “Dark” at the other. Ironically enough, both x’s wind up at the same place on both scales, towards the “light” side, and towards the “Malty” side. However, I would be surprised to find a Flying Dog beer that is lighter than the Woody Creek White. Perhaps the In Heat Wheat is lighter, but that’s the only one I could imagine lighter than Woody Creek White.

Enjoy your Flying Dog brews! The Woody Creek is a summer seasonal, so while you may need to go a bit further to find the Woody Creek White (most distributors may have gotten rid of their last case) the Flying Dog Sampler is sold in most supermarkets these days. And you should not be disappointed by any of their brews.

Allagash Interlude

Allagash Interlude - 2007

by Dan Raposo

This bottle has been bouncing from home to home with me after I picked it up at my favorite brew store (BBC liquors in Smithfield, RI) a couple years ago during my first trip back to college for homecoming weekend. I can't really say why I've avoided it for so long, but I do know why I opened it. Other reviews on this beer spread throughout the internet always mention the fruity and wild complexity the beer offers, and I knew it would match perfectly with a meaty Brazilian dish I had for dinner.

As you pop the cork the beer starts to fix, coming to life from a long hibernation of 5 years of barrel aging and another 2+ years in the bottle thanks to me. Giving it a hearty pour, the foam rises to the top of the glass and settles into a nice, thick, rolling foam, releasing the magnitude of aromas. Fruit - sour apple, strawberry or perhaps notes of cherry, but definitely grapes from the wine barrels this beer is aged in. Upon first taste the beer is tart but then sweet, both from those same fruity tones. Bubbly in the mouth, it goes down smoothly with a dry finish. The end is the only point you remember the brews 9.5% ABV, and you probably wouldn't even notice if you never read the label, or this review.

After a couple more pours, I swirl the bottle and pour the sediment to finish off a wonderful drink. This definitely changes the tone of the beer, as it becomes a little harsher, and more of the Brettanamyces yeast really comes through.

Overall, Allagash does a great job of mixing a Belgian strong ale with the fruity notes of most Belgian ales and American wilds. I wish I had another bottle I could cellar for another 2 years.

Selinsgrove Brew Pub- Stealth Triple

By Michael Stein

The Selinsgrove Brewpub is a lot like J.R.R Tolkien’s description of the Shire…it’s a safe refuge and a reliably consistent place of merriment…and oftentimes one finds himself surrounded by men with hairy feet.

The reason so many of the pub’s locals are so consistently jovial in large part comes from what folks refer to as “the triple.” It is one of the flagship ales and a solid staple, almost always on draft at the Selinsgrove Brewpub.

The beer has had at least two different variations within the last six years. My first visit to the Shire...err I mean brewpub...back in 2003, I enjoyed the “Stealth Triple X.” The suggestion came from the whispering lips of the toothless older gentleman who had just left his wooden seat in the dining room in front of the fire. It was he who first recommended it to me, “definitely gotta get the Stealth Triple” stated this educated beer-drinker whilst stumbling up the pub’s limestone steps on his way home.

The second version was the “Organic Triple,” an even tastier brew, seemingly appealing to the whole Green trend. I’m not sure if this was ever the “official” title, as for something to be certified organic it needs (amongst a sea of bureaucratic red-tape) USDA approval, like the Pinkus Hefeweizen.

This review is of the year-round draft now offered simply as the “Stealth Triple.” The first sip brings forth a strong Belgian taste, a true abbey-style beer fashioned in the vein of a Chimay or a Delrium Tremens. Despite the subtle taste of alcohol, there is a detectable honey-sweetness in the brew, a pleasant-tasting yeasty aroma very similar to the way the beer smells. My nostrils detect a deep bready wild and yeasty smell. The bready smell leads me to believe that there is some yeast set afire! It almost tastes as if there could be some lactobacillus in there.

These wild yeasts are found in Belgian Lambics. The Stealth Triple I first tasted back in 2003 had visible sediment just the way Delerium Tremens did. I’m not sure there is any visible sediment in this version, though it seems to be better blended and (on purpose) void of any yeast sedimentation particles. On the palate, one picks up notes of bananas and cloves. It’s a refreshing brew, and while I would never hold its heavy ABV against it, it is the perfect beer for ruminating on a drunken summer evening. However, it also serves the same job in the wintertime.

Back in the days (in Belgian society), the beer you drank was indicative of your place within society. The Peasants drank ale, the Abbey’s drank doubles, and the Cardinals drank triples. I’m pleased to say that the Selinsgrove Brewpub’s Triple is intended for townsfolk and visitors alike, regardless of hierarchical order or social class.

Amish Four Grain Pale Ale

by Michael Stein

Going to college in Selinsgrove, PA afforded me the privilege of constantly being surrounded by the Amish. You could find them setting up their stands on Saturday morning for the Selinsgrove farmer’s market. You could notice them biking through town, or riding their horse-drawn buggies along Interstate 80; this to me was the most dramatic display of their faith in God’s hands, because huge 18-wheelers whizzed by at 80 miles an hour. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Amish during my time interacting with them, it’s that their as loveable as they are sheisty.*

Now that may be a gross generalization of all Amish, as I know there are many reliable Amish who are roof and furniture builders, as well as trustworthy farmers. So the Amish I speak specifically of are a group of Amish that live just outside Selinsgrove, who run a certain supermarket, where such goods as Ranch Dressing and Honey Nut Cheerios are often sold in April, when there expiry date was back in January…I’m just sayin’.
Just because they don’t pay taxes or don’t fight in our wars, doesn’t mean that all of them are shady…just a specific few in the Snyder County Area. (I’m pretty sure that I don’t have to worry about that Amish family seeing my article about them, however they do own a grocery store so I suppose anything is possible).*

All of this aside, the Amish are a fantastic Religious group who’s positives far outweigh their negatives. A recent trip to Pennsylvania got me in the mood to sample some local beer. We here at Beer Made Clear like to think globally and drink locally. My desire to do so steered me in the direction of The Lancaster Brewing Companies’ sampler pack. The beer I chose to review is the Amish Four Grain Pale Ale.
The beer has a pretty timid smell, although subtle, there is a definite yeasty, oaty smell to it. The stench of the beer is a bit more pilsner and less hoppy than detected in your Sierra Nevada, or Saranac Pale Ale.

The first sip is all bread, the wheat, oats and rye taste like several different malts on one palette. As John Trogner brags about all of his Mad Elf batches tasting the same, I would imagine that Lancaster may not be such control freaks about blending. I’d be curious to see how Lancaster handles its brewing process; do they believe like Troegs, that a “good batch” implies that there are bad ones being served out there? Regardless, the beer tastes well blended.

The beer pours with medium head and decent amounts of lacing. Pours with a very light brown color comparable to, but lighter than, a Lager.

The beer’s malts are almost overpowering all other ingredients in the beer. There is an almost grape-like taste to the beer, reminiscent of the aftertaste of a Troegenator. There is also something in this beer that is quite similar with all other Lancaster Beers in their sampler pack; it’s an almost sour-skunky-grape type finish. It’s hard to put this flavor into words, but the end taste of the beer is present in the Hop Hog, the Strawberry Wheat and the Milk Porter. It’s also a taste common in ABC beers, particularly their Mountain Lager.

Overall this beer is quite tasty and one I would purchase a case of. I’m pleased to say that the Lancaster Brewing Company did not exploit the Amish name and make a bad tasting beer. This beer would be delicious without the computer, without the TV and even more scrumptious with the lights off.






*None of these facts are technically verified. However, there are multiple witnesses who can attest to the Amish selling groceries past expiry date.

Imperial Red Ale

by Michael Stein

I hate red beers. They are a testament to the average and boring. Red beers are the dregs that the inexperienced beer drinker reports as exotic. Despite this reputation I must sing the praises of the Lagunitas Brewing Company’s Imperial Red Ale for breaking the boring red mold.

Lagunitas’ Imperial Red declares on their bottle, “this Special Ale is, in reality, a reconstructed exhumation of the very first ale that we ever brewed way, way, way back in 1993.” Since being introduced to the Lagunitas Brewing Company’s beers a few short summers ago, I have witnessed their distribution grow. Founded in 1993, the
company relocated from Lagunitas to Petaluma, California. And as I have seen their selection grow at many east-coast distributors, so too have I witnessed their myth spread. Many claims have been passed down via word-of-mouth, however all hyperbole becomes unnecessary when one tastes their beer. Roland Barthes, French cultural theorist, would
have found fascinating the myth that Lagunitas has created.

In Mythologies Barthes discusses how red wine became the national drink of the French people, the drink for every occasion. It is cooling in the summer months and warming in the winter. But by definition a drink cannot encompass two opposite descriptions. This is analogous to the myth surrounding Lagunitas and their flagship IPA (India Pale Ale).

According to the IRI (Industrial Research Institute) Lagunitas Brewing Company’s IPA is the best-selling IPA in the state of California. In a state riddled with craft-breweries, the majority of whom offer their own take on an IPA, this is no small feat. However, I grow uneasy calling Lagunitas’ most well-known beer their best beer. This is
where my taste differs from most, for me their Imperial Red is their best beer, and if it were not a seasonal offering I would drink it year-round. According to their website its next approximate release will be in August 2009.

On the bottom of the six-pack another message appears. “We often describe our ales as having the luxuriant aromas of broccoli, kerosene, and burning tractor tires while bragging about their stagnant and pond-water flavors.” Further down, “[R]ed is a color, not a beer—and while the taste buds want what the taste buds want, you cannot taste a color.” Aside from the tongue in cheek, there is greater irony in that every Red Ale I’ve ever had has not been red, but a dark brown color.

Lagunitas’ Imperial Red pours with a medium head, and as the glass fills the head spreads thin. Little bubbles of carbonation pop up and float atop the head. The first taste is indeed high gravity. Kerosene, broccoli, however you want to phrase it, this beer has bite! The second sip takes me from bitter to sweet; rich, robust caramel and toffee tones bring the palate back to pleasure. But by the third sip it’s back to bitter. This beer is truly bizarre!

The mouthfeel has an odd level of lightness, it must be the 84.2 IBUs (International Bitterness Units) that makes this beer so balanced. The beer is very well-hopped, just by smelling it, the nose picks up a rich floral bouquet. This is out of the ordinary for a Red Ale, as the Irish Red traditionally relies on roasted barley. Most Irish Reds or Red Ales tend to have stronger barley and malt palates and less bite or bitterness. As I swill the brew in my cheeks, “whirl pooling” the beer, I pick up some sweet creamy notes. These notes dissipate as the high gravity ale goes down the gullet. The flavor is like a Tale of Two Tastes.

If Charles Dickens had this beer in Victorian England, there would have been much more fighting and far less writing. The Lagunitas Imperial Red is surely a Dickensian-beer. While this flavor is crafted for an Adirondack chair on vacation, its 7.8% ABV (Alcohol by Volume) would be sure to have the most seasoned London pub dwellers red-in-the-face after a few pints of Imperial Red.

Heartland Brewery

by Jonathan Kosakow

The first time I went to a Heartland Brewery, I had high expectations.  "A brew pub in New York City?" I thought.  "How could you go wrong?"  Well, I'll tell you how you could go wrong: by walking into a Heartland Brewery with high expectations.  

On this first visit I ordered the flight of beers, and was able to sample all of their brews within an hour. Needless to say, I was drunk by the end of this, and most likely slurring my speech. Luckily, the friend I was with followed suit, and neither of us was trying to sleep in the other's bed (his name is Andrew, and he has his own big boy bed). Towards the end of the sampler, I could hardly tell the difference between the stout and the porter. I thought this was just because my senses were dulled by the hour's worth of alcohol I had imbibed, but since then I have been proven wrong.

For whatever reason, I have gone back to the Heartland Brewery a number of times since then, and I am always disappointed in their beer. At this point, I feel like I have tried just about all of the 20-odd concoctions they have hastily thrown together, and for the life of me I can't remember ONE that stands out above the rest. Aside from the flashy logos that they assign to each new recipe, there is literally no reason for me to even read the description of each beer, besides fro the sake of being polite.

I've assessed the problem over and over in my head (I know, there are more constructive things I could be doing, but I won't defend my useless analytical leanings), and what I've come up with is that the Heartland Brewery is not a spot for beer lovers. Hell, it's hardly a spot for New Yorkers. It is a spot for tourists, for people looking for a theme, for people more interested in decor and surroundings of a restaurant than in what they are ingesting. The Heartland Brewery is more concerned with making money than making beer, so they follow the simple recipe for that: over-advertise, overcharge, under-work (that is nothing against the wait staff or bartenders, the service is actually quite good).  So, I realize now, that this is less of a review of a beer or a brewery than it is of a tourist trap. Sorry to everyone, if I've wasted your time.

Fireside Nut Brown ale

Reviewed by Michael Stein

In the vain of all things manly and kickass, Leinenkugel's Fireside Nut Brown Ale is a touch of brown testosterone in a bottle. So its only fitting my girlfriend's father blessed me with a case as a belated Christmas gift. I've stretched the four six packs out over the course of a couple of weeks and cherished its every drop, but this just goes to show the beer's versatility. The truly nice thing about this brew is the fact that the glass I filled one and a half times, I killed in about 6 sips. So just to juxtapose, it's a beer that tastes delicious for hours on end, beer after beer. I can attest to this personally, as I spent a good deal of Thanksgiving Day doing so. The beer has a 4.9% ABV, so it's a cut above your standard, but still lighter than most pale ales. However, as this case tends to cost around $30.00, I would recommend chipping away at the delectable "ale" at a snail's pace. But as I like to say, this beer was the best price, free ninety nine!

Upon first sip the beer has a sweet, caramel and almost hints of bitter bubblegum taste. My girlfriend would probably tell you this beer tasted like molasses. The taste is maple, definitely a strong taste of maple syrup. The irony in all of this, is that the current most-recent reviewer over @ ratebeer, writes "Notes of chocolate, nuts, hazelnut, but it seems very forced, i.e, artificial. Thin mouthfeel. Metallic finish. A strange brew that will appear to women and rubes who think they're drinking something exotic or high class." HA! And I thought I was chauvinistic!

When talking with fellow beer-guy Chris K., last week, he mentioned that he felt the Leini's Sunset Wheat was fantastically refreshing at first sip, but that the taste of orange and copper overcame the beer's appealing flavor by the end of a long night…a long night of say, playin' some bass kickin rhythm & blues and funky drums for hours whilst killin' a case. I know how he felt, but still I'd prefer a happy hour's worth of Sunset Wheat over a say, Shock Top, or Blue Moon any day. On a hot summer day, a Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy would be the only thing better!

At the Second sip, its clear; coffee, and definitive caramel, almost comparable to a Duncan doughnuts hazelnut iced coffee taste. But sometimes I like drinking those and therefore I like drinking this beer. Also of note, another similarity to Shock Top, Leinenkugel's was purchased in 1988 by Miller Brewing, although Leinenkugel's began making their "craft brews" in the 1980s. Shock Top is owned by Anheuser-Busch and was first introduced in 2006. I'm not certain, but I believe the Fireside Nut Brown ale is less than a year old, as it is a winter seasonal, only released in November and December (however you may be lucky enough to find it in October or January as well). Just like the Summer Shandy, this Leinenkugel's beer is under two year old, but you can count on it to be around to stay. So try to drink a toast to either summer or winter, year round. Prost!

Samuel Smith's Organic Lager

by Jonathan Kosakow

I sat down for dinner with some family in an Upper East Side Vegan restaurant the other night (could I sound more white?), and the first question we all asked was what they had at the bar. OK, the first question I asked was what they had at the bar. As I perused the beer list, I noticed something that I should have assumed from the beginning: everything was organically produced.

I've had some experience with organically produced beers in the past, mainly at the Selin's Grove Brewing Company, as well as through the Pinkus and Peak Organic brews, but here in front of me was a list of organic beers most of which I had never heard of. I'm sure you can imagine the feeling of ecstatic ecstasy that engulfed me. I'm also sure you can imagine the dread when I realized that each beer was a minimum of $7, and disappointment when I came to my senses and realized I couldn't in good conscience drink the entire list while sitting down to a quiet dinner with family.

Organic beers are a trend quickly gaining popularity in the beer industry. According to the Associated Press, sales of organic beers rose 111% between 2003 and 2005, and has continued to rise since then, prompting even companies like Anheuser-Busch to test a couple of their own.

I felt rushed to order, which is probably a good thing as otherwise I would have spent an easy twenty minutes debating with myself, but I settled quickly on a brewery which I have some familiarity with, and a beer with which I had none.

When I poured Samuel Smith's Organic Lager into my glass, I noticed how smoothly it flowed, and how delicate it looked. I let it sit for just a few seconds before the head settled perfectly. The color is uncharacteristic of most lagers, but more like a slightly-thicker-than-normal Pilsner. Upon first sip though, it was clear that this was no Pilsner. It's full flavored, with a light yet slightly creamy palate, and washes down your throat smoothly. Similar to the other organic brews I've sampled, this Lager tastes incredibly fresh, and was the perfect accompaniment to the light meal customary to a Vegan dinner. However, I would not limit this beer to always play the role of "good company" - it is one suitable for any occasion. It has what Bud Light claims to have: drinkability. It goes down smoothly and sits in your stomach lightly, but doesn't lack the delicate balance of hops and malt to be called "good quality." It may not be easy to find, and it may not be cheap, but I fully recommend giving this one a try.

Bethlehem Brew Works

by Dan Raposo


BBW Pumpkin Ale
BBW Fegley's E.S.B.
BBW Steelgaarden Wit



It seems that every family has their lackey. The person that gets stuck driving the others to and from the airport, gets the last minute groceries on holidays, you get the idea. Well in my family, I'm that guy. It's not so much because I'm a pushover, but mainly because I don't mind doing the errands nobody else wants to do, especially when they involve long drives and new places. Lucky for me, one of these such excursions led me to Bethlehem Brew Works in Bethlehem, PA.

A friend of my family's, who happens to be a priest, flew up from Florida to visit an old friend at his first parish in Bethlehem. My dad was supposed to drive him the 2.5 hours from CT to PA that Saturday morning, but the chauffeur duties inevitably fell to me (and of course my visiting girlfriend) We got there just after 10am, and after a short visit to the Church, my girlfriend and I took off to let the priests catch up. Fulfilling my need to explore, we drove around the town for a while until I saw Bethlehem Brew Works, shining like the Star of Bethlehem leading me to a refreshing beer experience. Sorry for the Jesus talk, but with the priests and Bethlehem, I had to work that in somewhere. Don't worry, it'll be the last bad reference to the Christmas story I make. And so, without further ado, the three gifts from the wise men of Bethlehem Brew Works. (I lied)

When I order a seasonal brew like a Pumpkin or a Holiday Winter, I want distinct and robust flavors of whatever is supposed to set the beer apart. So when I ordered the Pumpkin Ale I was hoping for something hearty, full of the flavors that make the fall season, pumpkin, cinnamon, something!!! What I got was a dweeb of an Ale with a hint of pumpkin. No spices, no robust flavors, nothing. If they were trying to create a lighter ale using pumpkins, something you could drink all night, they succeeded. But I'm not buying it, it was weak, light, and simple. My girlfriend loved the hint of pumpkin though, so I let her finish it.

After the Pumpkin Ale I decided to step it up a bit to protect my manhood, so I ordered the Fegley's ESB. The ESB gave me hope for BBW and did so by kicking my ass. The ESB is a British style amber, but not pale skinned, bad toothed type British, more like a British pit bull, with rabies. When you first taste this red amber ale, the sweet but complex malts caress and tickle the taste buds, then the succulent hop variety sucks the sweetness right out, leaving you dazed and confused, like you were just hit by a baldheaded British rugby thug, and then woken up by his hot sister. Overall, a highly enjoyable beer.

After the ESB I thought I would chill out a bit with the pubs most popular beer, the Steelgaarden Wit. I thought I was getting a relaxing Belgian wheat, but what I got was a complex and spicier version of this very traditional style. When poured, it looked just like an unfiltered wheat, hazy and golden in color but then when tasted, the chamomile and coriander took the beer to a new level, giving a typically simple style a fuller and much deeper taste.

Bethlehem Brew Works also had an interesting variety of fruit infused beers, which my girlfriend tried and I avoided after the first sip. Then after a few beers and some hot wings I got a call from the church and quickly remembered.... I had to drive the priest back home.


The Bethlehem Brew Works Website

Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy

By Matt Vekasy (circa July 25th, 2008)

It was a hot summer day in July and I took the day off to help my brother and his wife move. I showed up bright and early w/ a box o' coffee and we got to work... watching the movers do everything. (Lesson: helping people move who have hired movers is awesome). The moving was finished by noon and my brother and I made a trip to the grocery store and the liquor store. I picked up a 6-pack of Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy. I've had their sunset wheat before, but I wanted to try something new. I quickly realized that I had grabbed my new official summer moving beer.

This beer was so crisp and refreshing that by two beers in I wasn't thirsty for beer anymore. I can't tell you about the appearance or smell because I was parched and just drank it right out of the bottle. But I can tell you that this beer made me happy and after moving (alright not moving, but it was a hot day) all morning, Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy quenched my thirst. I remember not knowing what a shandy was when I bought it, but Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy tasted more like beer than of a wine cooler and left me refreshed and recharged.

I have since learned that Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy is a mix of lemonade and beer. More info can be found below:
Official website
Beer Advocate review

SBC Fairfield Red

by Dan Raposo


I just moved and in the midst of all the junk I found a couple bar napkins with almost illegible chicken scratch on them. Fortunately for me they were beer reviews and fortunately for you now I can post them. From what I can remember, and what I can understand from the napkin, it was a Friday sometime this summer when I drove up to Fairfield, CT to drop off some stuff for work. To my surprise and delight the office was across the street from the great Southport Brewing Company, which is as good as it gets for brewpubs in Southwestern CT.

It was one of those days where you want to be outside. 80 degrees, sunny, and driving around all day in my Jeep with the top down made me thirsty. I walked in to find a cute brunette behind the bar and thought my day couldn't get any better, until I remembered I have a girlfriend, and that she will probably read this at some point. Oh well, she'll probably laugh right.... A light refreshing beer and cool conversation, what better way to take the edge off a hot day, right? Wrong, the barkeep was pretty dull and bored me with her talk of grad school and other nonsense, and even worse, she missed the mark with her recommendation, the SBC Fairfield Red. (Just saved myself with the gf) I was instinctively puzzled by her recommendation, but I always trust a bartender's recommendation.

While I was really looking for something light and refreshing, this was a red....and this is about the point where my f'in cat tore the napkin apart. No I'm serious, the rest of the napkin has claw and teeth marks all over it with bits and pieces missing. I mean, the little guy is pretty cool most of the time, but really, a napkin? How is a napkin entertaining or a tasty treat?

Thankfully the Red was the only beer I drank at this sitting, so I can actually remember the situation and the beer. Light and refreshing doesn't quite describe this beer. In fact, it packed quite a punch, sucking what little moisture was left in my mouth from the dry conversation with the serving wench. I'm not trying to be harsh, but the beer started it, until of course I took another drink and realized it was quite good. After the initial bite, the Red really settled down and gave a great mixture of flavors, none if which I can really recognize because thats not really my thing. Oaky, nutty, a hint of caramel....sure, why not. What I do know is that the Fairfield Red tastes complex, with many flavors coming together, in and out at different times, packing a punch at first but finishing sweet and smooth, unlike this review and the napkin it was written on.

Recession Beers

by Jonathan Kosakow

In these times of financial peril, alcoholics and non-alcoholics alike are feeling a pinch on their leisure activities. Unfortunately for those of us who enjoy a beer with actual taste, having to watch our wallets also means often having to abstain from those rare bottles that our distributor picks up on a one-time-only basis. Now, you might be saying "Jonathan, how dare you drink a cheap beer!" or even "Dude, you've changed," but never fear my dear friends, I am simply a slave to the world around me, and am no different from you. We must adapt to our financial situations or be bitterly tossed off the island in Darwin-esque fashion, only to find out that all we had to do was eat pig testicles to win the million dollars. It is necessary to save a dollar here and there so that when the time counts, we can throw our shoulders back and our chests forward and buy the pretty girl on our left a Malibu and Pineapple Juice for $9.50. So with that said, I bring to you my very short list of beers that, even in a recession, we can enjoy to their fullest potential, without smashing the piggy banks our mothers gave us for our 5th birthday with the hammers our fathers gave us for Christmas later that year.

Pabst Blue Ribbon - At my local grocery store (Key Food in Astoria on 30th Avenue at the corner of 43rd Street - a fine establishment, I suggest you take a walk through), a 12-pack of PBR goes for $7.99 plus tax. Pick up a bag of chips on top of that, and you and a friend can each throw in $5 and be set for the night (or at least until halftime on Sunday). If you ask me, this is the best deal you can find. Though Natural Light and Milwaukee's Best might be a dollar cheaper, a cold can of PBR will go down smoothly with a hint of malts and hops, and will have far less chance of giving you an ulcer from the acidity. Some of you might prefer a Budweiser (or for the ladies, a Bud Light), but my question to you is, why spend $15 on a taste you can have for half that? And hell, in 2006 it won back that "Blue Ribbon" for the first time since 1893. Now that's quality that lasts.

Yuengling Lager - For Beer Guys like Tom and Chris, they can pick up a case of this delicious Lager at their local Pennsylvania distributor for under $25 (that's about $1 per beer), and for me here in New York, a 12-pack of long necks generally goes for about $14 (in cans for $12). That's not bad considering Coors and MGD sell for closer to $16 or $17. It also tastes like heaven.

Miller High Life - It may not live up to it's slogan, but the "Champagne of Beers" does go down smoothly when drunk (drank?) from the bottle (the can leaves a lot to be desired, besides the aftertaste of cheap aluminum). I couldn't tell you how much it costs these days, but I do know that the lightness in your wallet will feel worth it when you start getting a little light headed at around 10 this evening.

Colt 45, 40 oz. - Two dollars and twenty-five cents for forty ounces of beverage. That's cheaper than a bottle of "designer" water, whatever the hell that means. Speaking of water, here's another way to save money: pick up your jock and drink from the tap. Einstein did it, and so should you. (Note - I'm only guessing that Einstein drank from the tap).

Now, there are other options of course, but to be honest I'm just too lazy to do the "research" (by research I mean it's Monday evening and I don't feel like getting tanked just to educate you lazy cheapskates on how to save a couple bucks but still get a good buzz). Take my advice, or don't, see what I care, but don't come asking me for a dollar unless you put it to good use.