Remembrance of beers past

When you revisit a place you haven’t been for a long time, you tend to see things through new eyes. Which is what happened when I decided to check back on some old-school microbrews from my early drinking days.

I got the idea from my recent Seven Sips interview with the Steam Plant’s Ben Quick, who talked of cutting his craft teeth on Deschutes’ Mirror Pond and how well it has held up over the years.

At the risk of carbon-dating myself, many of my introductory micros are long gone from the market – in particular, Bert Grant’s gloriously hoppy IPA (the first I’d had), nicely balanced Scottish ale and intense Russian imperial stout, along with the likes of Redhook’s Ballard Bitter and Deschutes’ Bachelor Bitter (oh, for another sip of Full Sail’s erstwhile spring seasonal Equinox ESB).

But I still was able to assemble a respectably nostalgic six-pack for some reminiscing and rethinking:

Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (5.6 percent alcohol by volume, 38 International Bitterness Units): Pale ales are a bit of a dying breed in today’s IPA-crazed times, but Sierra’s original flagship shows why the style still deserves some respect. The deep golden beer starts soft and lightly sweet, with grapefruit flavors in the middle from the finishing Cascade hops that give way to a subdued but lingering bitterness. I’d take this over what some breweries bill as their “session IPA” any day.

Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale (5, 40): This Cascade single-hop has a slightly darker color than the Sierra and a fuller body with some breadiness from the addition of Munich malt along with pale and caramel, offset by a distinct underlying bitterness. Even more sessionable, it boasts admirable flavor and balance for a rather light beer.

Anchor Steam (4.9, NA): This historic cross between ale and lager (using cleaner lager yeast fermented at warmer, fruitier ale temperatures) grabs the eye with its beautifully clear, rich amber hue and pronounced carbonation. In the mouth, it’s malt-forward but fairly dry, with an initially creamy mouthfeel that turns more crisp and effervescent, and grassy, minty notes from Northern Brewer hops. I’ll have to try this with some foods where I might ordinarily reach for a Vienna-style lager, such as pizza and many Mexican dishes.

Redhook ESB (5.8, 28): While I was more of a Ballard Bitter guy, I downed my fair share of this as well back in the day. By current standards, there’s simply not much to either like or dislike; it’s lightly sweet and sort of watery, with a hint of hops, certainly inoffensive but not particularly appealing (some insist it’s been dumbed down since Redhook signed on with A-B InBev, but I don’t trust my memory or palate enough to completely concur). The ingredients aren’t listed on the website, but it’s not hard to find craft examples of the style that use true British malts and hops to produce more interesting results.      

Full Sail Amber (6, 31): Back when I was weaning myself off Labatt’s Blue Light, I remember having a hard time finishing an entire bottle of this one, which just seemed so big and chewy by comparison. I don’t have that problem anymore, but I can sort of see what was going on; for an amber, it’s quite deep and rich in both color and flavor, with a bit of roastiness from a dose of chocolate malt alongside a hearty helping of crystal. It’s more of a pleasant cross between a beefy amber and a dryish brown.

Widmer Hefeweizen (4.9, 30):  I can’t say I ever really drank that much of this, but it just seemed like it belonged with the others in the final slot of my sentimental sixer. The classic American take on the unfiltered German style is a touch more complex than I recall, with some creaminess from the yeast, tanginess from the wheat and Munich malt breadiness. Like Redhook ESB, it pales in comparison to more authentic options – the numerous Bavarian-inspired craft versions with that traditional banana/clove character – but you could definitely do worse.