Friday Brew Review: Winter Welcome Ale
As we finish another orbit around the sun, it’s natural to peek over our shoulders and assess the voyage thus far. What’ve we done that we’re proud of? What improvements do we need to make? How closely do our realities resemble our dreams?
All questions worth asking, no doubt.
But if you’re daring, and I mean truly willing to look down the barrel of embarrassment, you’ll take this end-of-the-year opportunity to ask some better questions. Y’know, inquiries into love and hate and sex and death and everything else that makes life both horrifying and beautiful. Ask yourself just one of these types of questions, answer it honestly, and then revel in the ensuing revelations.
So what’s my question? Well, here it is: When did I fall in love with beer?
When I first started drinking, my libations of choice pretty much included anything other than beer. Hard liquor. Zima. Complicated cocktails. All of `em went down the hatch, tasted great, and made me feel good. But for some reason, I just couldn’t understand the appeal of beer. I’d drink it if it were around (show me a picky college student and I’ll show you a coddled miscreant), but it was never my go-to. I was a fool.
But I wouldn’t be foolish forever.
Towards the end of my junior year of college, I met up with some friends at a bar in Kenmore Square. For the first time in my life, I took an honest look at a formidable beer list. I was stunned, staggered, and stupefied by all of the choices. But alas, when the waitress came by to take my order, I had made a decision based solely on a name. But I had been led astray, because the brew proved to be one of the greatest tasting I’d ever have the privilege of sampling.
From the first sip, I knew that beer was not something to be feared or avoided, but loved and embraced. Flavors upon flavors filled the glass, and then my gut, that was when I decided to try as many different varieties of ale as possible. And I think I’ve been doing a decent job.
So it looks like today is the final Friday of 2011. As such, I’m honoring my penchant for reflecting on past discoveries by drinking a product of the very brewery that turned me onto beer. Today, I’m drinking Winter Welcome Ale from the the Samuel Smith Brewery.
While my personal track record with the brewery brought me to this ale, I must admit that I was sold by the description on the back of the bottle. It reads as such:
This seasonal beer is a limited edition brewed for the short days and long nights of winter. The full body resulting from fermentation in `stone Yorkshire squares’ and the luxurious malt character, which will appeal to a broad range of drinkers, is balanced against whole-dred Fuggle and Golding hopes with nuances and complexities that should be contemplated before an open fire.
Seasonal? Drinking in front of a fire? Fuggle?!? Count me in!
I poured Winter Welcome Ale into a standard drinking glass and took note of its translucent amber color. The ale’s reddish tint is capped off by a thin layer of foam that dissipates as quickly as it’s revealed. Visually, this is a brew just askin’ to be drunk!
Running it through the olfactory exam, I’ve decided that Winter Welcome Ale is equally floral and sweet. I’ve jammed my nose as deep as possible into the open mouth of my glass, and I still don’t want to pull it away. After all, the aroma is rounded out by a note of spiciness and roasted-bliss that compliments the other qualities quite fantastically!
At this point, there’s only one thing left to do – DRINK!
Winter Welcome Ale is a fine tasting beer. On my first few sips, all I could pick up on were the standard amber-lager characteristics. However, as I made my way through the twenty-two ounce bottle, I began to detect a multitude of other flavors. Breadiness. Holiday-styled spices. Mayhaps a light fruitiness, not unlike a wine or cider.
In other words, this stuff is legit!
So there it is – after paragraphs and paragraphs of describing why Winter Welcome Ale is my drink of choice today, I gave a review. That’s right, I’m going to wax philosophical and then describe the beer I’m drinking. I know it isn’t a format everyone loves, but it’s one that I enjoy writing. So as I consider the various triumphs and foibles I’ve experienced during the last rotation around the sun, I’ll know where the Friday Brew Reviews stand.
In any case, tomorrow is the last day of 2011. If you’re a Mayan or an asshole, next year’s the last of all-time. So grab a Winter Welcome Ale, toss that shit back, and bask in the glory of the end times.
Or, if you happen to be reasonable, grab one of these beers and look forward to humanity’s NEVER ENDING struggle between self-destruction and collective evolution!
The verdict: B+