Mad Brewers Hoppy Hefe

The Hefeweizen can be a bland style of beer, often because the ingredients are for the most part the same, and the difference from one brew to the next can be subtle at best.   When it comes down to it, the Hefeweizen is the vanilla at the Gelati stand, the Corolla in the car yard, or the iPhone of beers... perhaps without the vicious lawsuits.   Once you peel away the packaging, and strip the marketing garb, the bare bones you are left with form essentially the same product as the last.   I do enjoy a good wheat beer when thoroughly parched on a hot summers day, but have yet to really embrace the genre, as there is never enough meat on the bones to justify the class as a versatile beer.   Enter Mad Brewers' Hoppy Hefe.  

A 7% Hefeweizen that comes only in a 640ml bottle, brewed by our own Malt Shovel (of James Squire fame).   The label firmly declares that 'sweet and spicy' German wheat beers could do with a lashing of hops, and be all the better for it.   I certainly can't argue with that.   I am at a point in my life where Maccas could just about put me in a diabetic clinic by releasing a McHop Burger.

The pour of the 'Hoppy Hefe' is visually striking.   The body is incredibly thick with colour.  Think shades of orange, amber, and burnt peach, all working in intertwining circular layers as if it were brewed by an intergalactic crop artist.   You can actually swirl the liquid around in your glass, and watch the different shades and pigments glide around.   Compared to your average beer, this belongs in the Louvre.   A thin fluffy head sits perfectly atop the body in a crowning fashion.   The nose is pleasant, and smells like a resinous pine tree that has been genetically modified to bear fruit.   Monsanto would be incredibly jealous.

The tone of the beer is as much a Hefe, as Chris Farley was an inspiration for anorexia.   The feel is weighted, and moderately heavy like a good American Pale Ale.   There is a mild oily slickness to it, but the delicacy is something that I have rarely encountered.   It's akin to being brutally socked in the jaw... by a feather bat.   Being swung by a fluffy cloud.   The addition of hops have wrought havoc upon the light carbonated sting that normally accompanies a wheat beer.   The flavours are complex, but balanced, with passion fruit and nectarine-like fruits vying for supremacy amongst sweetened wheat, and bitter hops.   Nothing is truly allowed to dominate, and where a dead heat might normally leave a crowd feeling numb and unfulfilled, this is full of life and breeds nothing but contentment.

This is one of the best Hefeweizens I've ever drunk.   The truth is though, had the word 'Hefe' not been printed on the label I likely would not have considered it to be so.   This is really an American Wheat Ale, for want of a more accurate term.   But lets not descend into genre arguments, for that is why God invented YouTube.


8.5/10

Red Duck White Garden

I had been wanting to keep reviewing beers on a more regular basis, but alas, life has gotten in the way.  After weeks of drinking cases of the same beer, over and over, I decided the funk must be broken.  There were a few random stowaway beers at the back of the fridge, and the first one I picked up was Red Duck's White Garden.  Red Duck are a very small brewery based in Victoria, whose wares I have sampled before.  In general, they are an above average brewer so I wasn't intimidated by the chances of this one being a dud.

It's hard to imagine what one might be doing when entering 'White Garden'.  You could simply be walking in to a large collection of daisies, or perhaps the ceremonial grounds of the Ku Klux Klan.  The write up on the label describes the ale as a mixture of various malts, combined with Raspberry and Rhubarb Jam.  Boy, that escalated quickly.  I wasn't expecting

'White Garden' to be the moniker of a beer brewed with condiments that are, for the most part, red.  The name is all in the appearance.  The ale pours a very light whitish/yellow, and hardly even looks like a beer.  The body is not translucent however, and has a serious murkiness to it.  It is littered with 'floaters', and resembles the Atlantic Ocean amidst the aftermath  of the Titanic.  Much like the disastrous event, the majority of these floaters perilously sink to the bottom.  We all know there was room for two people on that piece of wood Kate Winslet, you selfish bitch. 

If you've followed my reviews you'll know that I don't often pay much to credence to the appearance and 'nose' of a beer, unlike many other wankfest beer writers, but Jesus Christ the smell that eminates from this beer is something horrific.  The aroma is confoundedly tart, almost to the point of being rotten.  Basically, it smells like Madonna.  I know you probably think I'm being comedic here, but I honestly would not be surprised if Madonna smelt like this beer.

Just when you think you may have some sort of a grasp over this concoction, you end up taking a sip.  It doesn't taste like raspberry, or rhubarb.  The sweetness you might have been expecting has been brutally beaten to death by what can only be described as a sour mess.  The feel of the beer is flimsy and watery, and adds nothing to the overall experience whatsoever.  I cannot think of any circumstance that anyone would 'want' to drink this.  Then just to add insult to injury

as you approach the final third of the drink, which is a considerable amount, you are confronted with a naval minefield of floating crap that not even the Red October could navigate it's way through.

The overall 'taste' of the beer is not bad, it's drinkable, but the entire package as a whole is unrefined, unnecessary, and essentially useless.  Avoid.

3.5/10

Mornington Pale

Mornington Peninsula Brewery is another Victorian micro that has been making a bit of noise lately, with this Pale Ale in particular gathering some favourable reviews around the traps. 

The logo on the bottle has a bit of a cheeky history to go with it.  The symbol is derived from 16th Century alchemy, and signifies 'drinkable gold'.  Apparently 'drinkable gold' at one point was sold as a fail safe remedy to 'cure all illness'.  Medieval times were fascinating in this regard, as mankind had managed to escalate the advancement of death dealing weaponry and disease, yet hadn't succeeded in keeping medicine anywhere as nearly up to scratch.  Whereas now you might leave the doctor's office with some antihistamines, back in the day you likely would have been carrying two raven feathers and an eye of newt for the same ailment.  Nevertheless, you can't argue with a beer brewer using such a symbol to hawk their wares.

The Mornington Pale pours a crisp orange colour, and stands up to it's billing as an American style Pale Ale in appearance at least.  It looks similar to a Little Creature's Pale Ale, with a touch less cloudiness blurring the atmosphere.  Immediately as you raise the glass, a striking waft of fruity aromas spear your nostrils like a blade forged by Hattori Hanzo himself.  The significance of which I struggle to accentuate through words, but it resembles a party at Tony Montana's house after all the coke has run out, and everyone has resorted to chopping up passion fruits and mandarins out of sheer desperation.

The taste of the beer is an exact replica of it's nose.  The blend of light citrus and passion fruit is absolutely seamless.  To be honest I wouldn't have bothered trying to muscle in on the American Pale Ale crowd because this deserves it's own genre.  Like the Stone & Wood Pacific Ale, this is a tropical paradise in a bottle.  It should be drunk under an umbrella on the beach while a lovely lady massages your beautiful brake foot.  I doubt as to whether even Katut could bring you a drink as delicious as this.  The body is light and refreshing, and there are marginal hints of resin and sweet malt, but the assemblage of the tropical style fruits is the sure fire party stealer.

I've drunk a few fruit powered beers that don't always get the balance right.  Mornington Peninsula Brewery have hit the nail square on the head.  It isn't a beer for all occasions, and doesn't quite boast the versatility of other Pale Ales, but what it does do is execute with the enthusiasm of a Texan judge.  Fantastic summer beer, and one that I will look out for when the scorching sun finally returns to Melbourne.

Cheers.

8/10

Karl Strauss Tower 10 IPA

After spending the last while drinking standard ales and lagers, I started getting that itching feeling.  My skin felt like it was burning, my eyes were twitching uncontrollably...  I couldn't sleep...  I couldn't concentrate.  I needed another hit of hops.  It was time for a fix.

HOOK IT TO MY VEIN.

I picked up this at the same time as the Dundee IPA, this number was only $17 for a six pack and is an imported IPA from San Diego, California.  The story goes that in the 1980s, under Lifeguard 'Tower 10', two college grads and an old brew master drew up plans to start the first craft brewhouse in the area.  This West Coast style IPA pays homage to this moment of grandeur, so lets hope that it delivers truly.

The Tower pours an amber colour with tones of copper, bearing a lovely orange hue bursting through it with some light in the room.  It looks pretty good, a bit thin, but West Coast IPAs are generally a few kilos lighter than those from the Eastern Conference.  The first impression this beer leaves is deeper than the Chicxulub Crater.  The word bitter does not even cut the mustard.  Once it really lays the boot in, the bitterness factor of this beer is more assertive than Joseph Stalin's dominatrix.   The feel has that slick oily resin element, but it is extremely subtle for a powerful IPA.  The balance between meaty flavours and refreshing texture is quite astounding, and is something that has to be experienced.

I recommend this beer.  It does come with a warning however.  If you have never tinkered with this genre of beer before, then you may walk out of this experience looking somewhat like a napalm victim.  There are some subtle citrus fruits and sweet tones, but above all it's a gatling gun full of pine needles coated in a residue so bitter it may have been sourced from Eddie McGuire's tears after last year's Grand Final.

A solid, refreshing IPA at an affordable price.  Definitely not amongst my favourite beers, but I still give a nod of acknowledgement in it's general direction.

7.5/10

BrewBoys GT Lager

This lonely lager was sitting by itself in the corner of a fridge at The Local when it was being cleared out, during it's closing down sale.  While I was particularly on the lookout for some unique ales, I thought what the hey?  Sometimes you just want a nice, clean, refreshing beer instead of the liquid version of a Dali painting.  I'll readily admit that at times I am guilty of being a beer snob and refusing to drink anything that doesn't taste like diving head first into a barrel of hops, while wearing Steven Tyler's mouth and Charlie Sheen's nostrils.

The 'GT' Lager presents itself like a 70's V8.  The GT stripes and badging, and '35.1 bitterness units' being presented as an advertisement of cubic inches - 351.  Otherwise known as 5.8 litres in our language.  I'm a bit of a petrol head, so I 'get' what they are trying to do here, but even to me it still comes off as sitting somewhere between straight to DVD sequels and Christmas sweaters on the tackiness scale.  I likely never would have bought this on presentation, if it wasn't 40% off and one of the last bottles on the shelf.

The GT pours a surprisingly rich amber colour.  There is no head to be seen, as is to be expected, but apart from that you could be mistaken for thinking this is an amber ale, albeit a soft one.  The feeling is crisp and refreshing and sharply carbonated.  The depth is found in the flavour, a trait not commonly found in the bottom fermented version of our favourite beverage.  Nuts, caramel, malt, hops...  it has all the traits of an amber, but just wears a skimpier outfit.  It takes the bolder tastes of the beer world and makes them exceptionally easier to pound down.  Kind of like the British economy.  Get it?  Pound down?  The pound... ah forget it.

6.5/10

Moa Blanc

Boutique bottle shop 'The Local' in Balaclava had a closing down sale on Saturday, and while most of the carcass had been picked clean I did manage to snaffle a few cheap beers I hadn't tried before.  I also snared some Jalapeno peanuts which were on some serious next level shit.  It is distressing to know that it will be the first and only time I will ever get to sample such a delicacy.  One minute of silence please, for the nuts.

I remember liking the Moa range when I went through a few of them last year, notably the Lager, Pale Ale and Pilsner.  I have now also perused their Witbier, otherwise known as 'Blanc'.  Moa have managed to develop a signature feel to their range, which is something admirable given how flooded the world is with different beers nowadays.  Both a blessing and a curse, the winds of trade have brought us some delectable ales, but also a cavalcade of fizzy yellow piss in the same gust.  Moa brew spicy, clean, thirst quenching beers that don't pretend to try and wow the hop headed snobs, just demolish their parched mouths.

The beer pours an orangey straw yellow, without much head, and looks pretty much like every other witbier you've ever drunk.  Which is to be expected.  The feel of the Blanc is light and crisp, but weighted just enough to not feel watery.  Pepper and zesty citrus dominate the forefront, the finish resembling some sort of a malty lemon.  It's all very familiar, and by no means a stand out witbier, but there is something so damn refreshing about Moa's beers...  it's like stumbling upon a glistening oasis after a six hour trek through the Kalahari, where you had nothing to eat in your backpack but a stick of beef jerky wrapped in sandpaper.

Nothing groundbreaking or out of the ordinary.  Very safe in terms of ingredients, flavours and style, but nevertheless, a very tasty and refreshing take on the wheat beer genre.  Only a wanker would really try and sit there and poke gaping holes in a beer like this.  It isn't trying to reinvent the wheel, because it doesn't have to.

7/10

Dundee India Pale Ale

The cheap imported IPA.  A glimmering beacon when it first catches the eye, that can soon turn in to a running of the gauntlet once you pass the checkout.  Craft IPAs are almost never conservatively priced.  I often paid 8 or 9 dollars for a single IPA during my 365 day challenge, a transaction that under normal circumstances would have been harder to justify than Vanilla Ice's career.  Astonishingly at the time, this six pack only asked but 15 dollars for it's purchase, a price so low that I nearly moved past it out of pure disbelief that a solid IPA could be had at that rate.

Dundee is an American brewery, based in New York, of which I know absolutely nothing about and had never heard of prior to drinking this beer.  The beer pours an orangey copper colour, clearer than your run of the mill IPA, with little head retention.  The colour is nice, but does look a little light on the 'oompf' at a glance, but this would not be the first time my eyes hath deceived me.  This could be a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The feel of the beer is interesting, as it has a crispness to it that I expected due to the clear body, but there is still enough depth there to solidify it's place in the genre.  The flavours however are akin to a tornado that has just ripped through a farm.  There are citrus tones, bitter hops, biscuits and bread, but rather than working together in stages it feels almost like your mouth is hosting a Royal Rumble, and the referee is currently knocked out after a stray swing of a chair.

While not as clinical as a title fight, the royal rumble still has it's place.  Order can, at times, come from chaos and given the moderate price I can't be too judgmental here.  One gripe I will raise though is with the bitterness factor.  Yes, IPAs are often bitter, but there are degrees and variances to be had.  The finish to this beer sour and bitter, and cheap and metallic in quality.  It comes on so quickly that you cannot even compute the core ingredients of the beer.  The whole experience ends up a bit like Grant Hackett's apartment after a day at the track.

If you're a hop head and love an IPA, and none of your multis came through, then this is an affordable drop.

6/10