Maestro
Is/Was Brewing

 

Thank you FBarber for this
375 ml bottle poured into a tulip

A- Most of the bottle erupted all over my kitchen. The little bit that did not cover my kitchen pours a hazy golden straw with no head.

S- Wheat, smoky, agave, touch of lemons, hints of funk.

T- Tart, lemons, smoky, agave, wheat, mild funk.

M- Smooth, medium body, went nearly flat after erupting everywhere.

O- The smoked agave does a great job bring a mezcal smokiness to this. This is a beer I would like to try again from a bottle that isn’t completely over carbonated.

A gusher, caught the foam in the glass and it instantly filled the glass with loose, soapy bubbles. After a few minutes the head dissipated to nothing. Stray rising carb trails and a saturated golden orange color.

Aroma is a bit closed, yeasty, some grain and light minerality.

Taste is nice, there is some of the roasted agave heart character present, citrusy and lightly smoky. Nowhere near the intensity of Mezcal, but a light touch of similar character. Espadín is often sweet, fruity, and lightly herbaceous. Very light earthy smoke and citrus, Brett is present with some light phenols, sterile gauze, that ends with a dry, leathery funk towards the back end. Well carbed and light bodied.

Interesting that Brett *seems to be* in here, as it’s clearly labeled as the non-Brett version (reddish-purple label). It could be naturally occuring in the agave, as it does in pineapple (see also Tepache). Or just some wacky Saison yeast.

Overall this beer is interesting and worth a try. Also supports a good cause of sustainably replanting agave in Mexico through the nonprofit initiative S.A.C.R.E.D.

Given our vaunted stature in the beer world, I am probably the only BA Poo-Bah who feels inadequate about being the first to review an ale. When that ale is from a young brewery who is obviously very talented, I become insanely shy. So, I'm going to tell a story before I explain my rating.

Last February, I started a conversation with StoneTrippin' by complementing him for coining the phrase "Euro Saison Head." (Since that is what I really am, I was glad someone finally could tell me who I was.) After savoring that description through this summer, I'm coming to think there is another dimension to the traditional saison that American crafters are using to generate some really interesting experiments... like Maestro. That dimension is the innate flexibility of the saison's origin: whatever grains are leftover at the end of the harvest, throw them in the tun.

Americans are not satisfied with this 19th Century practice, so they keep adding stuff: some of which sounds awful and is; and some of which sounds interesting and also is. Entering the positive side of this milieu is Is/Was. And they have a number of experiments that I mostly appreciate (some of which I'm also the first review.) And today, they bring me agave: that wonderful plant that cleanses our nasty intestines and soothes our abused skin. (And probably stimulates long stories.)

To cut to the chase... Maestro can't keep its foam like a saison should. But despite its average Looks, The Maestro knows what it is doing. Smells offer subtle citric fruits, possibly a lemon. Tastes are balanced; all ingredients play nice to make a holistic experience. And in the mouth, this is a star; cleansing the palate with bubbles and agave and skill.

So naturally, I invited Maestro to show his stuff next to my world-famous ratatouille. He passed.

While I am becoming a fan of Is/Was, this does not resolve the dilemma of what to call myself in light of the active American re-invention of the Belgian saison style. For now, let's call it NASO... the North American Saison Organization to encourage nanos and gypsies and micros to make better saisons. To further improve what we call each other... Instead of Euro Saison Heads, let's call ourselves NASHs... North American Saison Heads. Simple Classics, like the Nash Rambler.

Now that I've solved that world problem, I deserve another saison.

3/30/22 I've had well over 300 saisons in the last 20 months between Maestros (I often have 4 a week since they are my go-to at dinner.) But I found another Maestro (at The Beer Temple) and Maestro saved another mediocre meal. this copy seems slightly more tart than I remember the first. While 300 saisons is a long time ago, this copy was still suitable at the table. Counting over @ UnTappd. And if you are a NASH, so should you.