Some ranting and sarcasm to ensue - be warned
So, I see a lot of posts by folks seeking to brew the perfect ___________________ While the quest itself seems a bit quixotic I do really applaud the attempt! But it seems, there is a need for validation and wide ranging advice on how to attain such an unattainable goal. Many folks enter competitions, others join clubs, and as we all know many use these internet forums. I have found the array of replies to run the gamut from confusing to amusing!
Personally I rarely seek outside opinion on my brews. One of the reason is that I already brew the PERFECT example of eight or nine different styles. How do i know this? Easy! Because I said so. These beers please me, I like the taste. My family likes the taste. They make me happy, they make my ears ring and the angles sing. And THAT is all it takes to qualify as perfect. Outside validation of perfection is not sought, because frankly it cannot exist. People like what they like, and it is a sure bet that is different from what I like.
However - last night in a fit of foolishness, or perhaps some deeply ingrained need for self-abuse, I agreed to join my brother, at a gathering of brewers to be held in my nephews basement. Simple game: Bring a few samples of a few different brews along with a little card with the grain bill. Drink, compare, repeat . . . . Sounds fun right?
I took half a dozen beers, ranging from an export Stout on one end to a Blonde Ale that i thought came out quite nice. We entered to house, descended the stairs, and found ourselves adrift in the Great Hipster Sea! I have never seen so many tulip glasses in my life. And i still have bruises all over from bumping into those rigidly extended pinkie fingers. We found the table, laid out our wares, and joined in on the tasting part as quickly as possible.
Those who know me are aware that i am fond of beer flavored beer. I am not the biggest fan of the assorted coconut-guava-breakfast cereal-doughnut thingies. Feel free of course! Just none for me thanks. We- my taste buds and I - quickly discovered we were probably in the wrong place. There were a lot of imaginative amalgamations. However with some judicious searching, a few cool and tasty adult beverages were discovered and tried. With that part under control, we started listening to the critiques. Where i discovered a number of things.
First, a youngster who was born about ten years after i first started brewing, scrutinized the grain bill on my pet APA. He told me the beer was OK, but that I could tweak it a little and make it better. When i asked for enlightenment, he told me to basically replace the entire grain bill with other ingredients, and to quadruple the IBU's. When i opined that that would in fact create an entirely different brew, he chuckled knowingly . . . I heard the knowing chuckle A LOT over the next couple hours.
Next was a pretty young lady who told me my Blonde Ale was really good, but that it would be better with some fruit. I told here that I dislike fruit in beer. She game me a knowing chuckle. Then she explained that EVERYONE likes fruit in beer, and that i just hadn't tried it right. ( I Still don't know what that means) She then reiterated that this Blonde Ale really needed some blackberry, or blueberry, or dinggleberry or something.
The rest of the evening went in a similar manner. Too many hops in my IPA expect for when there were not enough hops in my IPA. Why no chocolate, raspberry, froo froo sauce in my export stout. You should dry hop that Blonde Ale more. Your brown ale is: too sweet, too dry, too low in IBU, too bitter, "Hey is that a mild", "What a wimpy stout" "Good Porter man". On my Red Ale, I heard, "What is wrong with this brown ale?" and "It need some chocolate"
After about a day and a half the two hour event came to an end. But not without one last treat. My nephew and his pal have been bitten hard by the NEIPA bug, and they had just completed their masterpiece, and they broke out big old pints for everyone! Now i should explain right here that I find NEIPA repulsive. In fact i would rather lick the bottom of my shoe after a square dance in a hog pen. But he is family. It was everything i have come to expect (Dread) A thick glass of orangish/grapefruitish cloudy liquid, with about 2 million IBU's of hops, that when swallowed left me with the sensation that a small little mean spirited imp was rubbing 40 grit sandpaper across what used to be functioning taste buds. As my brother and i were leaving the kid asked what i thought. After a moment I said, "needs some fruit." And I chuckled knowingly as i climbed the stairs.
My brother took me to a favorite local tap room and bought me a supersized Two Hearted Ale, as a form of apology for instigating the evening - and to help initiate the rehabilitation process. Unfortunately the scarring may be permanent To my alpha acid tortured tasters, the entire mug had no more perceived flavor than a glass of Mountain Spring. . . . . The kid behind the bar suggested some fruit........
