O'Dell Brewing Co., Loose Leaf American Session Ale

Spring is fully sprung and summer will soon be upon us.  Our yards are a mess and we are men (and women, or however you self-identify).  We cut our grass, edge our sidewalks, pull our weeds, and we sweat.  When we are finished, we proudly look upon our works and defiantly raise our gloved fists to the old eldritch gods, exclaiming:

"I sure am glad that's done.  Now, I need a beer!"

~supplicant~

Let's talk about that perfect post-yard beer.  For obvious reasons, the whole educated world agrees that the correct beer for that moment is the classic ice-cold Coronita with a slice of lime.  There is healthy debate about the need for a touch of salt, but, it takes all kinds.  If you are wondering why the full size Corona is wrong, you need simply go and try them both for yourself.  You'll see.  The cold Coronita with lime is smooth and crisp, has a silky golden beauty, goes down like a water-slide, and (as any decent doctor will tell you) is the finest of all the energy drinks available.

But, today I am tasting something else.  This bottle was brought to my attention by the outstanding Amber, patron saint of the beer aisle at my local HEB.  I thought, "A session ale?  Do I look I look sickly and weak?  Does she think my car still has on training wheels?  Are we going to have a fight?"  I read the label, and to my further dismay, it proudly(?) claims to be "hop-forward."  I thought I might have to put on the foil, coach.  But, Amber has an easy way about her, and a could very likely kick my ass, so I figured, what the hell... Part of the reason I try a new beer every week is to broaden my horizons and make fun of stuff.  Also, I needed to mow my lawn and this fit the theme.

O'Dell Brewing Co., Loose Leaf American Session Ale. A candy-assed 4.5% ABV, 12oz bottle.  Diabetic horse piss yellow, with a mild but short lived head.  The label shows a leaf in agony as it downs in a rapidly flowing river.  The artist must be a cruel sonovabitch to design that.

The post-mow, first taste was (and I admit to heat-stroke and fatigue at this point) sooooooooooo good.  Ohmagawd... bliss.  Straight out of the back of the fridge, cold.  Light on the palette, but flavorful.  The light malt and yeast are lock-step with the hops.  The experience is floral, but manly.  The grass clipping in my hair blended perfectly with the crisp semi-citrus aroma.  It was heaven.  Not Coronita heaven, but mighty fine.

I really wanted to trash this beer.  Maybe if I had thought to wear a hat and put on sunscreen and a knee-brace before I mowed, my less addled brain would think appropriate thoughts about a session ale that intentionally refers to itself as f'n "hop-forward."  Which is really stuck in my craw if you hadn't noticed.  Sadly, I'm enjoying the shit out of this beer.  Yay, O'Dell!  You done me right.  Here I am gulping away, tired as hell, cross-eyed, and bleary, having a great drink.  Which, when I think about it, is exactly how I want to experience my post-lawn work beer.  I feel like I earned it.

I forgive the "session ale" part of this beer.  It is sitting lightly on my work-knotted gut, and making no challenges to my status-queas.  I forgive the hops, as they allow me to drink a fresher lawn than my own, while making my personal grass-funk seem almost pleasing.  I still feel traitorous to my malty, dark, and heavy beer-love, but maybe there is room in my expanding waistline for other styles.  Who knows, one day I might even drink an IPA without flipping it off first.  Or maybe it's just the heat-stroke.  For now, Prost, L'Chaim, Kampai, and whatever-the-hell else you toast, your lawn looks like shit, go mow it!