Frontiersman
HopCat

 

 

This is a cedar aged wild ale. “Possibly infected,” we were told. Definitely infected, I would say. But—it’s a wild ale and that’s part of the risk and reward. Described by my drinking buddy as “drinking an antique” from a garage sale.

Looks an intriguing hazy tan. Definite buttery/diacetyl aroma that steps up and smacks your olfactory nerves around. Whew! It was off-putting—but underneath it was this overpowering sour-tart aroma. I was afraid it drink this, based on the aroma alone, but … I was on a mission.

Resolve steeled I sipped cautiously. It was indeed like drinking a garage sale. Old, musty, stale, tart, like yellowed pages on dusty books or dimly lit basements. I think some of that was the cedar notes coming through—and a good deal of it was the ‘wild’ in a wild ale.

I could tell there was an interesting beer here. Just not today.