Monday, August 17, 2009

Something You'll Probably Never Have...


unless you visit (or live in) Prince Edward Island. My recent trip to this North Atlantic paradise was fueled by a steady diet of flavorful beers, but my favorites came from PEI's own Gahan House brewery. Gahan (sounds like gone with an h in the middle) is PEI's main microbrew, and although you can buy growlers and kegs, the beer is not exported. So good luck getting it! Really, this means I could make up whatever I want about these beers and you'd never know the difference. Since this is what I usually do, you'll probably not notice any difference.

Gahan House resides in a charming, homey Charlottetown building with a surprisingly small bar (unless there was another hidden somewhere I didn't see) and a large dining area. Seriously, I think the bar had more taps than seats - and they had seven taps. Skipping out on the guided tour, which I'm sure is a good time, I was still able to check out the brewing vats housed in the basement while on my way to the washroom - that's Canadian for bathroom!

I did my best to try all seven of Gahan's taps, but my efforts were hampered by some of the varieties being unavailable. The bartender had no idea when they'd be back on tap. In fact, it sounds like Gahan House operates on a "we'll brew what we feel like" policy and that they don't try to keep everything in stock all the time. It's sort of like someone's backyard brewing that just blossomed into a full-time gig. Ah, Island Life.

Here's what I had to drink, I think in the order I drank it:

Island Red - pretty much a standard red ale, but tasty nonetheless! A nice balance between caramel malt and pungent hops. The Red Ales seem to be pretty popular in Canada, I believe because red is the only color featured on their flag.

Sydney Street Stout - this was a solid offering, especially on a rainy day like we were having. Dark black body with a mocha-colored head, it had the light body and robust taste you want from a traditional stout. There was a bitter coffee note I really enjoyed. The more I think about it, the more I wish I had had more of these over the course of the week - if only we'd had more stout-worthy weather!

Sir John A's Honey Wheat - This was probably my favorite of the bunch, but if you read this blog you'll know that honey beers hold a special place in my heart. Sir John A was the fellow who pretty much invented Canada or something and this sweet wheat was a fitting tribute to his genius and magnificence.

Coles Cream Ale - I was excited to try this, but it was all tapped out. I will continue to imagine that it tastes just like cream soda.

Harvest Gold Pale Ale - By the time I had this, I was three or four pints deep. 20-oz Imperial Pints. Of beers that probably sat between 5% and 6% APV. On an empty stomach. All I can say is that I only had one during the entire trip, so it probably wasn't very exciting. Side note: one of my favorite things about Canada is the Imperial Pint. Other side note: the women of PEI all are beautiful. Proof: My girlfriend pointed this out to me.

Iron Horse Brown Ale - Tasty, malty, and super smooth, with enough hop bite to balance it all out. This was a good beer, but its true strength came in mixing it with the other draughts. More on that later, like in another blog post. Man vs Beer teaches patience. In the meantime let me just say again how hot those PEI girls were. Like three out of every five were 9's. What's going on up there? And why isn't it going on down here?!

1772 India Pale Ale - Another beer I was excited to try, both because I like IPA's and it was heavily advertised as Gahan's newest brew. Unfortunately, this was another beer that was MIA. I think this is a good strategy for a brewery - just come up with names for beers and never actually make them. In fact, just serve PBR and food coloring out of different taps. That's it - I'm opening a bar.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Ballast Point Yellow Tail Ale: Beer of Confusion

My favorite bar in Phoenixville is The Pickering Creek Inn. The beer selection is always good, with some new treats every week. One of the new selections at my last visit was an offering from San Diego's Ballast Point brewery called Yellow Tail Ale. At 4.6% apv, it was one of the lighter beers on The Pick's menu.

I asked Matt the Bartender what he thought of the Yellow Tail, and he sort of shook his head. "Not my style," he said as he poured me a shooter-sized sample. I knocked it back, but honestly wasn't sure what to think. It's bitter, not sour, with a sort of creamy finish. Did I like it? I needed to do some further research.

The beer-to-head ratio was definitely better on a full pint, and it went down easily. The light body is made for session drinking, but I'm not convinced the flavor does the same. The head left a nice lacing on the glass and the gold color was pleasant and unembarrassing - always an important part of a beer. Still unsure that I liked it, I had to order another.

The second pint provided no further answers, nor did the third. Matt the Bartender, puzzled by my own puzzlement, decided to give the Yellow Tail another test tasting of his own. "Wait, I kind of like it now," he said, "it doesn't taste anything like I thought it did before." This is perhaps the most ambiguous beer of all time. By the fourth pint, I was questioning what else in life I might be this unsure of. Should I get an iPhone? Do I really prefer dogs over cats? Am I really happy? Did I spend too much time in the boys' locker room back in middle school? Gaze into the abyss too long, and the abyss gazes back. Needless to say, I cried myself to sleep that night.

The next day, some Internets Research revealed that Yellow Tail is Ballast Point's take on a Kolsch, which is a style of beer native to Cologne, Germany. According to Ballast Point's Internets website, there are currently no Kolsch-style beers being imported in America. Suddenly the pieces began to fall into place: American palettes are too Neanderthal to actually taste this beer.

Yes. That must be it. Years of pesticide-laced, salt-loaded fast food, mercury-laden seafood, and rice-based macrobrews have poisoned our taste buds to a point where we can't possibly appreciate the subtleties of a Kolsch. Our brains, struggling mightily to make sense of the stuff, are eventually driven over the cliff's edge into nihilistic oblivion.

Either that, or this beer just doesn't have much flavor.