Bud American Ale - A Weiser Choice?

If there's one word that just screams "Amer'can" (three-syllables), it's Budweiser. For decades, the name has defined not only beer, but a way of life. If you are a "Bud Man," chances are you are a patriotic, blue-collar guy, who likes to work hard and relax at the end of the day with a cold one. Chances are you drink it directly out of the can or bottle, and drink it partially because you want to support Amer'ca and Amer'can workers -- at least up until six months ago.

This is the stereotype, anyway. For most people, Bud is a shorthand for affordable, universally-accepted beer that you could bring to a party without risk. It is the Coca-Cola of American beer; it's a wonder they still even feel the need to advertise.

Because of this, the unveiling of Bud American Ale has been met with curiosity and skepticism. I'm not sure how long Bud had been planning on unveiling this product, but it has put its weight behind it. Skeptics would say that Bud is attempting to tap into the craft beer market by creating a beer with a reddish hue that will somehow crossover by luring in the frugal craft beer fan, as well as the loyal -- if curious -- Budweiser aficianado.

So is this a cynical attempt to tap into the burgeoning craft beer market? Or is it an earnest olive branch to the evolving American palate? I took a flier a 22-oz bottle to find out.

First, let's observe the appearance: yellow water it is not. Although it is see-through (I was able to watch a few scenes of "30 Rock" completely through the glass), it is a nice reddish-orange color. The head is relatively sturdy -- another surprise. At face value, the look is not bad at all.

The aroma is relatively inoffensive as well. The caramel malts to which they refer in the commercials are noticeable, in their slightly toasted smell. It is sweeter in the nose than I had expected it to be, mostly because I had expected an English pub ale by its appearance. There is a little bit of a tinny, metallic presence here, which is typical of a macro beer. Some mild grassy hops are a minor accent, and some extra sweetness comes through in some brown sugary notes.

Finally, time to take a sip. The first thing I notice is how sweet it is, with more of that brown sugar coming through, but more of a sweet toffee flavor. It's actually too sweet for me, only because there is not enough of a hop balance.

I know that America is not ready for a steady diet of hops in a macro beer, lager or ale. But it appears to me that if Bud is truly committed to making a craft beer -- as opposed to simply cracking into the craft beer market -- they need to start adding some hops for balance. Sure, it may hinder sales among the fratboy crowd, but it might actually convince craft beer drinkers to give it a chance when they are looking for a cheap, widely-available ale. As-is, it's like Bass with a more cloyingly sweet, unbalanced flavor.

It does feel creamier than any Bud product I've ever had, but that's not saying much. It's drinkable, but it's weak. Far too cloying in both its sugary sweetness and its overbearing alcohol, which should have been hidden by more richness.

It seems that Bud may have suffered from trying to straddle the line between wanting to make something that would entice ale-drinkers, but not offend their hardcore contingent (i.e. 50% of the American beer-drinking population). Unfortunately, I think they may have failed at both.

My hope is that the American Ale will find a way to infiltrate the masses, thereby allowing the populace's palate to change from bland macro lagers to something more rich and flavorful. (For all its flaws, American Ale is far more flavorful than any of it's Bud brethren.) This, in my utopia, would lead to more ale-drinkers, who would then branch out into other beers and breweries.

Of course, I'm sure the folks at Bud don't share this hope.

Budweiser American Ale is a below-average but inoffensive ale. It reminds me of a sports bar more than a pub. And whether Bud should be lauded for branching out or scolded for being opportunistic and exploitative, I'll leave that up to you.

Quick Takes: Otter Creek Otteroo (Sparkling Australian-Style Ale)

You know what's thoughtful? When somebody very thoughtfully gives you a beer-related gift for the holidays. Those are the kinds of relatives you keep in the will, to say the least!

My younger brother Nick (he who, in the fall, reviewed Miller Chill) presented me with an Otter Creek Otter's Selection Gift Pack this Festivus - this pack included an Otter Creek pint glass and bombers of 3 so-called Otter Creek World Tour beers, through which I have been slowly making my way.

One of the bombers included in this gift pack was the Otter Creek Otteroo, described as an Australian-style sparkling ale (but made in Vermont). The bottle promised extra carbonation and the use of Australian hops and ringwood yeast. Admittedly, I was a bit wary of this beer - for all of my recently-acquired beersnobbery, I wasn't tremendously familiar with Sparkling Ales as a style, and went in expecting something like a fruit-less Lambic.

Really, though, the Otteroo wasn't much like any of my expectations. The extra carbonation was barely noticeable, if at all, only really serving to keep the head on my pour from bomber into glass at a bare minimum. As for the taste, I must say that this was a particularly malty, somewhat bittersweet beer - not at all a bad beer, really, but considering the exotic ingredients, it was nothing particularly spectacular. Given that the hops traveled halfway around the world, I would have liked to have been able to taste them more.

For a special-batch beer, which the Otteroo seems to be, I wasn't particularly overwhelmed. Overall, it was a decent pint-and-some, but if I return to the Outback for this type of beer, it probably won't be with the Otter Creek brewers as my tourguide.

Quick Take: Three Floyds Gumballhead

Clark's Ale House continues to be the class of downtown Syracuse. While the Empire Brewing Company still awaits its liquor license, and the Blue Tusk becomes some sort of discotheque after 8pm, Clark's remains consistent: no loud music, no TVs, Trivia on Wednesdays, good rotation of beers.

One beverage we had not anticipated seeing there several weeks ago was the Three Floyd's Gumballhead American Pale Wheat Ale. We had heard of Three Floyds Brewing Company in Munster, Indiana through the grapevine, and Beeradvocate.com generally rates most of their beers very high for style. A Pale wheat ale? This sounds like it would be some sort of unclassifiable Hefeweizen or Pale Ale with wheat thrown in. What we found was a truly unique drinking experience.

First of all, this is a very very hoppy beverage. It's like a great India Pale Ale, with bitter, flowery hops and that little bite on the way down. But it does not make a fetish out of the hops, or flaunt them, or simply over-hop for hopses sake. It's the perfect dry IPA upon the first sip. But then something happens. Something unusual.

There really is a "gumball" flavor at the swallow. The aftertaste becomes a sweet -- but not too sweet -- candy like flavor. Like a dry candy, say a bubble-gum flavored sweet tart. It's the perfect counterpoint to the bitterness of the first sip. In this way Gumballhead reminded me a bit of Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat, with the latter having a very pronounced orange sherbet taste. But Gumballhead proves to be far superior given the understated nature of the gumball taste, as well as the care that all Three of the Floyds took with the hops.

If you see it on a beer menu in the Northeast, get it.

Beer O' the Moment: Gritty McDuff's Pub Ale

We will actually be the first to admit that we are going through a rather unusual "English Ale" phase right now. The porters of winter and the imperial IPAs of last autumn have ebbed, and will likely rise again, but currently we are experiencing a bit of an affinity for the subtle, balanced ales, ostensibly perfected by our neighbors across the Atlantic. We suspect that this affinity for the English style is perhaps subconsciously concurrent with our obsession with all things English (we just finished watching the first season of Fawlty Towers on DVD of all things), yet we digress.
Enter Gritty McDuff's, a heretofore slightly average (in this critic's eyes) brewery based in Portland, Maine. Granted, I had only had two of their other brews -- The Black Fly Stout and the Christmas Ale -- neither of which are particular favorite "genres" of ours. Now maybe it was the lowered expectations, but I found this beer to be a really excellent session brew, with a little something for everyone.

First of all, it just looks like an English ale. Flat and warm. Well, not really, but there is no pillowy head, no deep dark haze. In other words, no gimmicks. It isn't trying to wow you with flashing lights while it serves up a mediocre brew.

Then there is the flavor. Oh the glorious flavor. It's actually one of the more versatile brews I've had in a while. It would be just as welcome on a hot summer Saturday by the pool as it would watching the snow fall at Clark's Ale House on a Tuesday evening. It's light, yet substantial. It's dry, yet utterly thirst-quenching.

The hops are strictly an accent to the dry, biscuity malt flavor. No bitterness, no bite. Easy to drink: sip, finish, repeat. The hops that do come to the forefront are slightly sweet and with a flowery character. They are a perfect complement to the understated malt.

Technically, I do suppose this is actually an American Pale Ale, but rather than having that distinctive pale malt with a dash of hops, it has more of the English style. Even the label (shown above) conjures up the merriment of an English pub. The scary part is, this is apparently twice as good on-tap, and I had it out of a bottle.

Get out there and try one. You know you can trust us.