Willamette Week | Restaurant Guide 1999

Happy Beer, Sad Beer

Enough with beer snobs and their insistence that you match beer with food. We know the best way to pick a brew, and that's by your emotional state. Is it a brew-hoo-hoo kind of day? Or a brew-ha-ha kind of night? Use our handy guide to find out--it's fun and educational!

BY ZACH DUNDAS
AND JOHN GRAHAM

So it's time once again for Willamette Week's annual beers-and-bars roundup. But what could we possibly say about beer in the Year 2000 that hasn't already been written over the past centuries, from the time cloaked monks first saw God in a goblet to today's tyranny of the fleece-clad craftbrew fanatic?

We could discuss beers as if they were wines. We could say things like, "This doppelbock's heady aroma is followed up with sprightly mouthfeel and a lingering, lusciously hopped aftertaste." But if you're at all like us, the phrase "sprightly mouthfeel" seems...goddamn gross, actually. The most important thing about a beer is how it makes you feel. Which brew matches your emotional state at a given moment? Which suds will guide you gently through the depths of black despair? Which will make you as gay as a spring lamb in those idyllic weeks before Easter brunch?
We're here to help. Read on.
First, check your mood ring: If it's light in color, so, too, should be your beer. Those feeling confident and daring may want to start right in with Hair of the Dog's Fred, a potent blast of 10 percent alcohol that's cloudy in color but clear in intent--you don't mess around with this pure-bred brew. Quick math'll tell you that a sixer of Fred has almost as much alcohol as an 18-case of Hamm's, so consider Fred your best accessory for a BYO party in an upscale 'hood. Making an entrance with Fred says, "This guy's got taste, class, some extra cash and an iron-lined liver. Make way for the cool guy." Another hot Fred-tip for parties: At those predatory bashes where strangers are certain to raid your 12er of Henry's, opt for six Freds pre-emptively divided among two or three friends.
On the other hand, BridgePort Blue Heron Ale shows your sensitive side. With an almost flowery aroma and a friendly sense of drinkability, Blue Heron is what you need to help your springtime romances blossom. Drop those roses; instead, strategically place a half-dozen of these babies in your fridge. That hottie from Sales will think you're a sweetheart. The rest is up to you--though getting your intended to stow a few of these puppies in his/her bloodstream can't hurt the cause, eh?
Oregon Brewing's India Pale Ale is similarly friendly. Maybe too friendly. Unlike the imperial Brits who originally brewed IPAs for their Subcontinent contingent, this particular IPA makes no claims of its own. ("It's light-bodied for lightweights," one taster noted.) Good for those wishy-washy, lazy summer days when you want an unobtrusive brew that's not Budweiser.
Next we come to a Portland "classic": Widmer Hefeweizen. Why the quotation marks? Well, this wheaty brew is immensely popular in PDX, but not so hot with us. Flaccid flavor-notes strain to achieve a forced jollity and wisdom, thus explaining its popularity with fans of adult-contemporary music. Widmer's flagship product is famous throughout the world as one of America's first 'weizens, though, so when you want to impress that visiting dignitary--your mom, for instance--pour a glass and fill 'em in on your knowledge of the Bavaria-Bridgetown nexus. This hefeweizen's cloudy appearance and slightly bitter taste also belie its strength as an ideal summer drink, perfect for those sunset concerts in the park, with the 2.5 kids and 1.5 pets.
Speaking of amiably inoffensive beers, Portland Brewing's MacTarnahan's Amber Ale is what we call an AUV, or "alcohol utility vehicle"--it can take you almost anywhere, depending on your initial mood. For example, since it's easy-drinking compared to heavier ambers, Mac's is great for added laughs when you play the extrovert. It won't fill you up, so you can drink it all day and night if need be. However, its caramel notes can be almost too sweet, so when you've just been dumped and are feeling maudlin, Mac's will merely taunt you, like the jovial, hand-holding couple you inevitably encounter just after a messy breakup. Make up your mind before you take that ride.
Similarly, Saxer's Helles Bock can be either friend or foe. With its reddish, almost crimson color and sweet accents, it says, "I'm fun--drink me!" Insecure types beware, though. While cocksure boys and whimsical girls will love it, mercurial, moody folks may get more than they bargained for when the 7.2 percent alcohol content kicks in. A borderline smile can turn into a vicious grimace if your liver loses control, so be careful or this bock'll beat your mood down. The same may be said for Nor'Wester Smith Rock Bock (7.3 percent alcohol), which is more tangy than Saxer but otherwise comparable in both taste and weight.
There's no doubt that Full Sail Amber is a great ale, richly flavored and satisfyingly heavy (inspiring our private slogan: "a beer you can believe in™"). However, because of its surprising weight and take-no-prisoners tastiness, it's better for post-work stress relief than extensive drinking. Prolonged exposure could mean trouble--what starts out nice could soon hang heavily upon you. A night of this amber could sink you into a morass of morose thoughts. (For example, as we quaffed, our discussion inexplicably shifted to the frozen gulags of Siberia.) View it as you would a summer fling: Enjoy it for a while, then move on before it becomes a burden.
Our penultimate beer is the ubiquitous Black Butte Porter. With carbo that clings to the side of your glass like a cola, Deschutes Brewing's finest brand is festive and energetic--with a subterranean edge, like an attractive person who's funny and smart but has a darkly serious side. This person goes to shows and yuks it up with his or her buds, then goes home and spins Sabbath or the Bad Seeds. Most certainly a nocturnal brew.
And finally, we come to Rogue Shakespeare Stout. Even the foam on this stout is dark. Yet like the Bard himself, Rogue works tragedy and comedy into a singular creation, giving you rich flavor and subtle nuances with a smoky subtext that could be the downfall of those of excessive hubris. A powerful brew for indomitable drinking kings. All others need not apply.