Mission Brewery Blonde Ale is not an IPA. It’s a light, smooth blonde that was made for San Diego summers, which is conveniently where it comes from. I’m a sucker for pre-Prohibition breweries, because to me they represent a golden age in American brewing before the megabreweries took over. Mission claims that they started in the early 20th century. So I picked up a bottle from my local Whole Foods, anticipating something along the lines of a Craftsman 1903, which anyone within earshot knows I can’t be rational about.

But Mission Blonde is just kind of…thin. I freely admit that my recent IPA binge may have reset my taste calibration for piles of hops, but it’s hard to discern a personality from Mission Blonde. There has been a surfeit of tasty, full-bodied blondes on the west coast lately, and from San Diego in particular: I’ve just had a sample of some brews from Alpine that knocked my socks off, and Stone relentlessly innovates toward the future. But this blonde is forgettable. It is pleasant, and light, and I could see the point of a pint after surfing. But if you’re looking for something distinctive, this is not your beer.

I’m interested to try another beer from Mission, because this could easily be their lager-end top seller for the non-beer-snob. I do like their label. But the beer needs a little bit more backbone.

Mission Blonde Ale: B-

Sampled from: Whole Foods, Santa Monica, CA

Slàinte.

First stop was the Pasadena classic Lucky Baldwin’s. In case you haven’t figured, my blog buddy is a nut for Craftsman so he said we should meet there where there’s always a number of Craftsman on tap. But not this day. They were fresh out of the two I wanted to try – the 1903 and the Poppyfield Pale Ale – and a couple of others so I went with the Craftsman Bier de Blanco. The first thing that struck me was the sight. It has that strange peach look of agua de melon, or melon water, one of several fruit drinks concocted in traditional Mexican restaurants. It also has a buttery scent. Felt like I was about to gulp a handful of popcorn. But it went down nicely, a bit tangily and I sense a bit of apricot in it. The taste tends to fade the more you drink of it, however. Certainly not the most compelling of Craftsman’s oeuvre.

Next stop was Freddie’s 35er where I tried the Firestone Double Barrel Ale (DBA). Firestone hails from Central California and this is the first taste of it I’ve had. I was surprised when I found on its website that its DBA has a vanilla and oak flavor because I found it to be rather bland. There wasn’t a lot of there there and the best I could describe it at the time was like water with a hint of hops and very little attitude.

Old Towne Pub was next where I had North Coast Brewing’s Scrimshaw. Another brewery out of the central coast and another brewery I had yet to try. I like the Scrimshaw. A very smooth transaction with no kickback, making it non-threatening in a “boy-am-I-gonna-give-you-a-bad-aftertaste” kinda way. The thing about it is that you can forget it the moment you put the glass back down, but still crave more. After several gulps it still greets you nicely but doesn’t impose. Solid beer.

To be continued…

Craftsman Bier de Blanco: B

Sampled at Lucky Baldwin’s, Pasadena

Firestone DBA: C

Sampled at Freddie’s 35er, Pasadena

North Coast Scrimshaw: A-

Sampled at Old Towne Pub, Pasadena

¡Salud!

So you can understand why I picked up a six-pack of A Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ Ale from Lagunitas. I tried their pils a few weeks ago, and liked it. I prefer to try beer on tap, but I’m quickly depleting the options within reasonable driving distance, so I may have to work in some homework now and again. Tough job, I know.

First sip of A Little Sumpin’ Sumpin Ale: I thought this was supposed to be a wheat. It says it’s a wheat. But it tastes nothing like any wheat beer I know. Someone took a wheat beer and pointed a hop gun at it and just fired away until the chambers were empty. Man this is a hoppy wheat. But something about the wheat-beer base and the incredible amount of summer hops makes a delicious combination: fresh and clean, with a citrus infusion that doesn’t taste sweet at all. If anyone can taste the wheat in here, they should start a new career in beer investigations. It’s surprisingly redrinkable, if only to figure out what the hell is in it.

A Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ Ale is a surprising beer that veers off the beaten path, and that’s a rare quality. It’s interesting and redrinkable, and well worth the experimentation. It’s beers like this that make me glad to be drinking beer in SoCal in 2009: it’s the wild west out here. Enjoy.

Lagunitas A Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ Ale: A-

Sampled at home, Santa Monica, CA

Slàinte.

Avery Brewing is based in Boulder, Colorado. It must not get much distribution in California, or at least I don’t remember seeing it before. Karma describes itself as a Belgian, which is a term that’s losing meaning for me in American craft brewing. Instead of having the complexity and depth of actual Belgian beers, it’s becoming shorthand for “fruity.”

And Karma is, in fact, fruity. Not in an infused-with-raspberry-syrup kind of way, but light hints of citrus and something that may or may not be apricot. But whereas most Belgians leave an aftertaste, Karma is superclean and dry. It announces it’s presence, politely excuses itself, and leaves. I like this in a beer whether it’s Belgian or not, so Karma really worked for me. I like fruit in a beer as long as it stays underneath the hops and barley, and draws out a more complex taste, rather than being sweet for sweet’s sake.

I am pleased to say I like Karma Ale, because it would be seriously bad Karma not to. It’s a solid, refreshing summer beer.

Avery Brewing Karma Ale: A-
Sampled at: Brick Oven Pizza, Crested Butte, Colorado

Slainte.

I traveled to Pasadena, California, the other day, specifically to see if I could find more varieties of Craftsman beers closer to the source. I got there early, in order to beat traffic, and poked around looking for the brewery itself. It turns out to be in an office park, where two guys brewed the beer in essentially a converted garage. I stepped in and talked to Mark, which was lucky for me, because he told me Todd would have chased me out. Couldn’t have been nicer. I told him I started a beer blog because I was inspired by Craftstman 1903. He shrugged, as if it happened all the time. It’s probably true. But in terms of brewery tours, I was out of luck.

So I rolled down to Lucky Baldwin’s, in Old Town Pasadena, where they had a lot of beers on the menu but not as many on tap. Seems their orderer was out of town. So my first three choices were shot down by an unlucky server. Fourth choice: Craftsman Heavenly Hefeweizen. Should have been first. I do not know or understand what Mark and Todd do to their beers. I would like them to keep doing it, and doing more of it. I have never had a disappointing Craftsman. Heavenly Hefeweizen is precisely as advertised: smooth, dry, spicy and light. It just cleanses the palate with wheat and a light dusting of fruit. When I dream of hefeweizen, this is the stuff of which I dream.

I told you I can’t be rational, and will make no attempt to pretend otherwise. This is just incredibly good beer.

Craftsman Heavenly Hefeweizen: A

Sampled at: Lucky Baldwin’s, Pasadena, California

By this I mean, when you are at a place that has good beer, and rotates its taps, and makes a point of pride to get the best beer they can find: it is hard to choose a beer. That’s the problem I have whenever I go to Beachwood BBQ, in Seal Beach, California. They have between twelve and twenty taps of incredible beer, and I can only choose a finite number of them. So, I go on recommendation. I go on instinct. And sometimes, I go on name alone.

Which leads me to Rubicon Monkey Knife Fight.

Name alone, this wins. “I’d like a Monkey Knife Fight, please.” Yes. Yes I would. I would like that very much. Rubicon is a Sacramento brewer, and this is my first of their beers. From the name, I was expecting blood. I was expecting to have to wrestle this beer out of its chair and challenge it to pistols at dawn.

Monkey Knife Fight is theoretically an IPA, but you’d have to ask for ID. I’ve been on a superhoppy IPA kick lately, but Monkey Knife Fight sort of sits in the corner and tries not to be noticed. It’s a light, drinkable beer, but it is, dare I say, a little watery. It leaves your palate as soon as you drink it. It’s a bookmark beer, something you order while you decide what you want to have next. It’s not bad, not bad at all. It makes me want to try other Rubicon beers. But in terms of personality, it’s lacking.

The name made me brace myself for something dark, unique, mysterious and interesting, and it’s…none of these things. But it’s solid, and redrinkable. Just don’t ask me about it later.

Rubicon Monkey Knife Fight: B-

Sampled at: Beachwood BBQ, Seal Beach, CA

Slàinte.

The result is impressive. I have been bludgeoned to death by hops from some outrageous IPAs that just batter at the door of your tongue until you keel over, and yes, I am glaring at certain breweries in the Pacific Northwest. But Pliny the Elder blends the hops in a way that not only doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. The first sip wakes you up, extremely spicy, blowing through your taste buds like bank robbers with a job to do. But it settles down immediately and plays on your tongue, drawing out a range of flavors, like pine and citrus, that goes a little deeper every sip you take. The hops are perfectly balanced. It is a delicious beer. It goes down easily – dangerously easily. It is a smooth, superlative IPA. I am drooling a little just writing about it.

Between this and Damnation, Russian River is quickly ascending my craft brewer ranks, and may earn a spot on the ”favorites“ list once I try Blind Pig. Seriously. If you have the chance to try a Russian River draught beer, by all means jump.

Russian River Pliny the Elder: A

Sampled at: Father’s Office, Santa Monica, CA

Slàinte.

On this particular evening I had kickass seats. We’re talking Field Level, Aisle 12, Row K. I had to sit in that seat for as long as I could, and therefore couldn’t afford to go down a couple of aisle to get my beloved Tecate, lest I miss the honor of getting beaned in the head by a foul ball with eyes off Manny’s bat. Yes, you know what I’m talking about.

The concession stand sadly only had two beer options: the obligatory Bud Light, or one I’d never heard of before called Red Trolley Ale. Considering I wouldn’t drink Bud Light even if it were free and came with a hot date with Salma Hayek (okay, then I’d consider it), I opted for the fire brick red Red Trolley Ale out of the Karl Strauss Brewing Company in beautiful Sandy Eggo.

Right off the bat, the darkness worried me. Not being a stout, which I like fine, I was worried that it’d be overly hoppy. But the hops weren’t as accented as much as the malted barley, with which I’m very okay. This isn’t to say that the barley stifled the hops; instead, it looks like the folks at Karl Strauss found a way to make them play well with each other so nobody gets hurt. I was also surprised for the hint of sweetness that I couldn’t quite place, but that I enjoyed very much. (The website says that the malts are caramelized and there is a toffee flavor along with a hint of raisin). The result is a decent ale that I’d probably have again, so long as it isn’t at the Stadium.

Although these flavors meshed well enough to compliment the Dodger Stadium-must Dodger Dog, it is a moderately heavy beer, which doesn’t make the baseball-going experience as enjoyable as it should be. I mean, after having the Red Trolley and my Dodger Dog, I was good for another day and a half. I suppose if you’re on a budget it’s the beer for you. But if you’re more interested in having a Dog, or two, and downing enough beers to start a fight with those sad Giants fans, then it’s best to walk as fast as you can down a couple of aisles for the Tecate. Or the Corona, if you’re into that kinda thing. And if you are, I’m sorry.

Red Trolley Ale: B -

Sampled at: Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, Ca.

¡Salud!

But then I considered the other end of the spectrum. The least politic choice. A beer that would send FOX News ballistic. Something that invoked the ire of God *and* a former Cold War enemy.

Of course I’m talking about Russian River Damnation.

This is a kickass name for a beer, by the way. You order a Damnation, and you can’t say it without a kind of Yosemite Sam swagger. In case you’re suspicious, Russian River has absolutely nothing to do with the former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. It’s a California brewery, based in Santa Rosa, north of San Francisco. They specialize in beers with great names: Pliny the Elder. Blind Pig IPA. And this, their Belgian beer: Damnation.

I have to admit, the name scared me. I’ve had jalapeno beers at festivals that nearly burned my teeth out of my head and sent me screaming for the first aid station. The impression is, this is a beer you Do Not Want To Mess With. Dance with the devil. Come what may. My first sip was tentative, assuming I was going to need surgery afterward.

The truth is, this is a smooth-drinking beer. It doesn’t overdo the Belgium in the beer: it’s only slightly sweet. It’s a dry, tasty, flavorful beer that improves with every sip. Most Belgians want to prove their European roots by making sure you know it’s a Belgian, infusing it with berries and honey and the sweat and tears of Trappist monks, and Damnation is a refreshing change from the herd. It’s a confident beer, with roots in California and a tip of the hat to Belgium. They claim there’s pear in there, but it’s so light you might miss it.

It’s a good beer with a great name from a really inventive brewery. If you’re lucky enough to find it on tap, I encourage a pint. Unless you’re Barack Obama and the press is watching, at which point I forgive you the Bud Light. Which is owned by Belgium anyway.

Russian River Damnation: A

Sampled at: The Daily Pint, Santa Monica, CA

Slàinte.

Argument settled, I commissioned myself to write blog entries that serve as a tour of my favorite beers that come from Mexico. A bit about me: Mexican-American from the East LA/Montebello area; lover of most types of alcohol, but especially partial to Mexican beer and Jack Daniels; and a Capricorn.

Mexican beer is produced by one of two breweries: FEMSA, the largest beverage company in Mexico; and Grupo Modelo, which has been in danger of becoming owned entirely by Anheuser Busch for a while. Mexican beers are primarily lagers or pilsners and range from light to very dark, but even the darkest of them lack that viscous quality you’ll find in a good pint of Guinness.

I’m a simple kind of guy. I like to sit back on my sofa and watch sporting events, or attend them in person. I like to hang out with family and friends at parties or BBQs. I like the simplest of Mexican food, though I confess I am very snobby about where I get my Mexican food. For each of these occasions, my Mexican beer of choice is Tecate. It is a splendid accompaniment to each of these events, and several other, more fancy ones, though for those I inevitably navigate toward spirits.

Tecate is smooth, refreshing, and is the only beer I’ve had whose taste is actually improved with a wedge of lime. (As far as I’m concerned, what a wedge of lime only does for Corona is give you the taste of a once beautiful, immaculate lime terribly wronged by nature). Some opt for a dash of salt, but I’m of the opinion that the only beverages that should go with salt are Margaritas and Bloody Marys. I don’t even take my tequila shots with salt. Or lemon, for that matter.

A product of FEMSA (which also brews other fine lagers) Tecate is isn’t at all filling. Once, an uncle and I went through more than a dozen cans on our own, and would have continued if it weren’t for the food being ready. From my experience the less filling beers are either lacking in taste or potency. Not Tecate. My uncle and I were nearly reduced to teary-eyed party guests telling everyone we saw that we loved them while the sweet, heartbreaking strains of Ranchera music played loudly behind us.

I’ll admit I’m not a fan of American beers. The only popular American beer I’ll drink – only if I don’t have a choice – is MGD. I have only recently been turned on to Crasftsman by guess who. I like several European beers, and several from elsewhere in the world. I’ll also admit that Tecate isn’t as refined as these beers, and probably isn’t better tasting than some of them. But for me, it provides comfort and ease; a sense of home that others do not. What more can an Aztec ask for?

Tecate: A+
Sampled at: Countless East LA parties, BBQs, and my home sofa.

¡Salud!