AleSmith Speedway Stout – Macadamia Nut
Or, On Burgers and Macadamia Nuts
So I find myself at a loose end in Woodland, California. I’ve already had a sit down with a good book (American Gods) and had a coffee. I’m peckish and still have in the back of my mind the hunt for a good beer in town. Foursquare to the rescue! Not a hundred yards from where I’m sitting, I see there’s a bar-and-grill called The Burger Saloon. I wander over and stick my head around the door. There’s a dark-wood bar. There are beer pumps. There’s an expansive blackboard with beers listed. Do I go in? Of course I do.
Being me, before I sat down, I went to see what was on the beer list, and was delighted to see a stout on offer, and of course being a sucker for a dark beer, I plumped for that, albeit with some reservation given that it was advertised as being in some way connected to the Macadamia nut.
The burger was good. I mean, really good. I ordered a simple cheeseburger, that came with a really good chunk of cheddar. But this is, of course, all about the beer.It’s a nice beer, smooth and sweet and nicely bready. It looks good too, being all dark and mysterious with a fine creamy head. The flavour is all mocha and bonfire toffee and dark toast, all in all a wonderful pairing with my burger, and to be honest I could have supped it with a dessert too, had I been inclined. Of course there’s also the matter of temperature. This one came at an ideal “cellar” temperature, and so all the flavour was immediately available in full measure. Sadly, I had to rush somewhat, so I can’t report on what happens as it warms, but my bet is that all that smooth toffee comes even more to the fore.
Were there hops? Yes, but in a perfect balance to the dark bittersweet of the malts; more a subtleharmonic hint than in-yer-face. Were there nuts? Quite possibly, but if so, the addition is subtle. Macadamia nuts are smooth and creamy and this beer has all of that in spades. Alesmith’s description doesn’t mention them, instead pointing to coffee adjuncts, and those tones are pretty clearly present. I may have to write and ask them, because I’m now more curious than ever, having written this.
Will I go there again? Hell, yes. In an age (and season) where lighter-malts and high hoppiness prevail, this was a most refreshing change. Nicely done, Alesmith.
P.S. Apologies for not posting my own photo. As I said, I rushed and was too disorganised to think about it at the time.
A Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ Ale
It’s confession time. I’ve been unfaithful. For the longest time, I was fast and enduring to the sweet, sweet malt, and eschewed the bitter hop. But this little blonde enticed me with her sluttiness, and having tasted her delights, I was drunk with pleasure. I admit to some sybaritic desire, because after the first sipped kisses, I wanted to possess her.
It began in the restaurant, before the bar was open. Daily, I’d see the display of fine wines, and jealous of them, plucked this spunky gal from the nearest store, a single bottle to grace the shelves. Passing her daily, I lusted for that golden delight, and finally she drew me in to her web.
Ooops. Slipped into old male thinking there for a wild moment. Enough of the fantasy, now for the real deal. This is a beautiful beer, seriously. It would have to be to draw me away from my usual malty lusts – it’s a pale amber with a excellent crowning head that holds well, laces the glass with pretty silk stockingtops of lace (here we go again); a true delight to the eye.
The nose is gently hoppy and quite fruity, with clear notes of tangerine and backed with a bready wheatiness. The little hop bitterness balances a sweet savour of herb bread, and the light, slightly spicy citrus carries through to a dry finish that is clean and fresh after the maltiness. Each draft, sip or quaff, reveals more.
It’s a great food beer, good with sturdy salads and light to moderately flavoured dishes. I’d pick it as a good introduction to food pairing with lightly spiced meats and cheeses. There’s little to fault, it’s a superbly balanced pale wheat brew that continually surprises. As I find with so many brews, the character changes as the beer warms. In this case, it seriously glows, becomes more floral and aromatic. Care is needed though, because at some point it loses that essential freshness. After all, it’s a hoppy Lagunitas ale, and deserves to be on the chillier end, around 50 at the top end.
Will I have it again? Without hesitation. A delightful warm-weather beer that I’m certain will appeal to a wide variety of palates.
On the Evils of Hops
It’s fairly well known that I generally prefer the malt to the hop, which is unsurprising given the beers I grew up drinking; thinner, sweeter beers like the browns and milds popular in old-fashioned British Midlands pubs in the 80s. Even when I moved into the pale ales and bitter beers, I was happy enough drinking them as session beers.
I didn’t mind a little hoppiness, after all it’s what makes a good ale. That said, I came to realise that I loathed too much hop, and I can even tell you where I was. It was a Saturday afternoon, at the Bell pub in Norwich, a debauched post-rugby drinking binge with a vast number of rugger buggers intent on swilling as much beer as possible as quickly as possible. Not a pretty sight, and not an easy one for me, given that they dragged me into their foul antics. It was during the early evening that someone bought me an IPA (possibly because they’d drunk all the bitter). It revolted me. Not oly that but it sent my poor belly into spasm and gave me heartburn. Honestly, it wasn’t the several brews I’d downed beforehand. This was astringent, sharp, and it burned.
When I moved to California, I delighted in finding many beers I could enjoy from a multitude of microbreweries, but as I ventured further afield and pushed back the boundaries, I came across a new phenomenon – the overhopped beer. With names like Hoppy Face Brewery and the Big Ass Hoppy Amber it became clear that many breweries were jumping onto a hop bandwagon and there were many who followed them. Having tried a few (Racer 5 being notable) I decided that I would eschew the hop and stick with my malts.
But I was scorned, and scoffed at, and abused by the hopheads who insisted that unless a beer burned one’s gullet, it was a no-good beer. But it seems that I am not alone in my observation that the hop madness has gone too far. The excellent Samuel Smith writes: “…there’s a disturbing trend that needs talking about: a runaway obsession with hops…” Please, good brewers, leave it out, and bring me a good Nut Brown Ale. Oh, and a nice pork pie.