A Race Day Brooklyn Beer Bonanza!

The Tempting Names of New York Brews

or

The Beautiful Yet Tragic Lies of New England

This week I was drinking in Brooklyn to celebrate my brother's 3rd greatest (chronologically) academic achievement. On Saturday he took Ma, Priya, and me down to his local, The Adirondack bar near prospect park so we could watch the Kentucky derby and knock back a few. It was crowded for the race, but we managed a nook in the back of the bar. I was very excited for my first New York boozing.

Priya bought the first round. Ma and I ordered a stout, Avram had a flashy mixed drink, and Priya ordered something pale. Have you ever noticed that Yankee beers have great names. I suspect it is a New York thing, but there is no way to know for sure. Or maybe it has more to do with demand. These days, that demand is being made by hipsters. Those ironic scumbags are infesting Brooklyn just like they infest our hearts and imaginations, with their fancy hair and skinny jeans. But, could the people who re-popularized PBR (they once watched blue velvet in middle school) ever give rise to a decent beer?

Rockaway Black Gold Stout

5.6%%ABV, dark, frothy, and good lookin' from Rockaway Brewing Company in Queens.

The stout Ma and I had, Rockaway Black Gold Stout, turned out to be a nitrous infused dark glass of beauty. By that, I mean it looked really good. I watched that perfect cascade of bubbles doing their carmagnole until their tasty bubble bodies settled into a foamy mocha head. It was mesmerizing.

But looks aren't everything. Which is a shame. For me. No, these days you gotta have looks and taste, like a sucker. The Rockaway had tastes of coffee and bitter copper with nutty undertones. Which is all fine and good, but there was a problem: thin mouth feel. Yeah, I said it.

Like all the best hipsters, this shit was too damn thin. I was very disappointed. I mean... I mean... I'm sitting here on the bench... I'm sitting here on the alcove (do you use this word, "alcove"?) bench, watching the Kentucky derby through some dudes' heads, trying to get into the spirit of the thing, and my beautiful stout turns out to be a nitrous-infused, coffee-flavored PBR. Seriously, what the shit?

Maybe the problem is that I had such high expectations for a neighborhood bar in Brooklyn. So, I'm going to cave, fight my baser instincts, and say some nice things about this lame fuck-around of a beer. The thin mouth feel makes this lame beer super easy to drink. And when you consider the cowardly low ABV, this makes for a very pretty session beer. Sure, I wanted a good beer, but when life gives you lemons, just be glad you didn't have to pay for them. It really was pretty, thought. I gotta give it that. 

I couldn't let that be my only Brooklyn bar beer, plus, I needed something another beer to get me to the finish of the derby. Soooo...

Upstate Common Sense

5.3% ABV, a layered throw-back beer from Upstate Brewing Company.

I bought this entirely for the name. It has New Yorkiness, is mildly insulting to anyone not ordering it, and could easily have been the name of a horse running the derby. This was a sure thing. I really wondered what kind of beer it was.

The flavors were layered, so here is what I tasted: toffee, sour citrus, bitter florals, caramel, some late-to-the-party malt, a touch of tobacco, and a god awful smell.  

It wasn't bad, but it really wasn't all that great either. I didn't mind drinking it, and towards the end of the glass, I was mostly good with it. I don't think I'd ever buy a six-pack of the Common Sense. I doubt I would ever order it again. But, it really wasn't so bad. I particularly enjoyed the toffee and caramel flavors, but they were always followed by those damn floral and sour notes. Priya says it is, "amenable, then it turns on you." And Ma commented that it "isn't sweet, but it isn't not sweet." I thought it was like being slapped in the face with fish you really enjoy. This beer has something for everyone to like and to despise.

At first I was 80% sure that this is an exotic sour ale. That made me 20% correct, because, according to the website description, this is a Kentucky Common Ale, and is not supposed to be sour, even though it definitely is. I feel cheated.

Clearly, this beer is brewed with lies and Yankee deceit. Why do you hate me, New York?

The race finished. I choked down the last of my second glass of dissatisfaction. We left my first Brooklyn bar. I may not have particularly enjoyed either of my beers, but I feel like the whole of the experience was more than worth it. Drinking in Brooklyn is a great thing to do. It is a very special place to down a beer, filled with history and character, great for people-watching, and the beer selection looks terrific on a chalkboard. It's a shame your beer sucks New York, but that's OK, because I live in Texas.