Spring still has 20 days left on its lease, but we’re kicking its butt to the curb. It was fun and all, but our relationship is over. And it’s not us — it’s you, springtime.
It started out with so much romance: sundresses and cherry blossoms. But before we knew it, springtime, you changed. Don’t think we didn’t notice when busloads of stinky, sweaty tourists flooded our party; when your buddies started showing up in those awful striped suits.
If you had needed space, we would have gone to the beach and maybe worked things out, but you sprang sunburns on us without warning. We hoped that we would tan, springtime, but we didn’t. And now we’re just sweating in a concrete jungle. It’s over, and we’re leaving you for a new adventure — summer.
Stop! We know what you’re thinking: “Summer is boring, baby. Stay with me and I’ll treat you better. You want exciting beer, don’t look to summer — all they have is lights and wheats!”
Well, springtime, that ain’t gonna work this time. Because we’ve met Victory and Boston Brewing Company. And this year, when those guys came to party, they didn’t mess around. In fact, they kicked ass.
Photo by TheDC's Grae Stafford
So without further ado, let us explain just what kind of kick-ass we’re talking about. We have seen the other side, and it is good.
Victory Brewing Company’s Summer Love Ale
Now that we’ve broken up with springtime — which most people outside the tourism industry would call crazy — we’re going to explain why. Summer isn’t boring anymore.
When was summer boring, you ask? When we were focusing on the beer. There’s a time and a place for drinking beers that need fruit in them, getting arrested, forgetting about obligations and getting tattoos: It’s called college. Also, the boardwalk. (We do love the boardwalk). But the point is, that ain’t what it’s all about. It’s about the beer. And that, fortunately, seems to be what a number of our favorite beer companies seem to understand. And that’s the spirit that the gang from Pennsylvania tackled their Summer Love Ale with.
Victory Brewing Company's Summer Love Ale
Summer Love starts out unsuspecting, with a fluffy light head, with medium carbonation and a quick dissolve. The body is a standard golden-yellow, which is probably the reason springtime wasn’t worried about us hanging out together.
On the nose, this brew has a classic citrus smell, with sweet hints of bread. But come on, it’s like 90 degrees outside and everybody’s thirsty, so dig in.
Summer Love is not your normal fling. With a shock, this beer hit us with bitter, slightly sour notes and lemon on the sides of the tongue. It took us off guard with its bite, and we liked it. Sweet, with a floral aftertaste underscored by that lingering hoppy sour sting, this beer is bold and different. On the second sip, the surprise fades, leaving us with a more sweet, floral taste.
At 5.2 percent ABV, Summer Love has some kick. Available May through August on draught and in bottles, we picked up a 6-pack for $8.99.
And hey — throw some shrimp on the barbie with that beer. Why not? It’s a celebration.
Boston Beer Company’s Samuel Adams Porch Rocker Radler
Boston Beer Company is developing a reputation for putting its own spin on old-fashioned beers, and the Samuel Adams Porch Rocker Radler is no exception. For this beer, the brewers picked up on a cool story from the early 20th century.
Basically, a gang of cyclists were traveling through a Bavarian town in the ’20s and a German innkeeper, wary of such roving gangs of bicycle hoodlums, needed a way to keep them all satisfied without running out of beer. So, with a trick that would never pass with the average American motorcycle gang, he mixed his beer with lemon soda, passing the mix off as “cyclist’s liter” — or Radlermass (Radler is German for “cyclist”).
Samuel Adams' Porch Rocker Radler
As it turns out, the German innkeeper was on to something, and the style quickly caught on. At least it did in 1920s Bavaria. We had never heard of the stuff. But thankfully, those crafty Sam Adams brewers brought it to our attention with their recreation, made by blending Helles-style beer (a “straw-blonde, German lager”) with a “a hand-crafted lemon blend.”
Beginning with an off-white head over a pale, dull-gold body, this beer also caught us off guard. As one might expect, it didn’t taste like your average German beer.
With a lime-soda nose, this brew is sweet, like a sugary lemonade. And refreshing, insofar as sugary lemonade is refreshing, with light bubbles less powerful than a champagne.
At 4.4 percent ABV and with a strong taste, the Porch Rocker Radler should be served with a course, either before or after dinner.
TheDC suggests starting off with potato salad or a brie baked with walnuts and cranberries. If not before dinner, than after, with an apple pie and vanilla ice cream.
Available May through July, you can find a six-pack for $7.99.
Delicious beer news from TheDC
Ogden's Own Distillery's Five Wives Vodka
On June 2-3, if you’re in New England or have the itch to travel on that bicycle of yours, hop on, because the gang at Beer Advocate will be hosting the American Craft Beer Festival. And oh yes — it’s all you can drink. But get there early! The line to get in the door is long. And if you intend to stay for two of the sessions they run each day, stay cool in the second line and take off all that dope swag you got at the first one, because you aren’t supposed to do that.
Last year, we ended up in a fistfight among friends over a plate of late-night buffalo tenders. And it was totally worth it (Mike and Corey were in the wrong; those were our tenders). Also, try to get some fried clams in between sessions, because nothing says “I’m-wasted-in-Boston-and-I-ain’t-stopping-for-hours” like a big old plate of fried clams. We suggest the Boston Sail Loft.
On July 2, Founders Brewing Company will release Frangelic Mountain Brown, the fourth in the brewery’s 750mL Backstage Series — a project that brings local-distribution Founders beers to national doorsteps. At 9 percent ABV, you can bet we’re excited.
In non-beer, liquor-related news, officials in Idaho have banned Ogden’s Own Distillery from selling its Five Wives Vodka in the state’s government-run booze stores because it is “offensive to a prominent segment of our population,” whatever that means. Five Wives Vodka is produced in Utah, where the long polygamy-free Mormon church is based. Here’s an idea: If Idaho doesn’t want Five Wives, we’re more than happy to take them in here at TheDC. And we’ll love them all the same.
