Saturday Beer Review: Point Einbock

Mother Nature has kindly resolved The Common Man's conflict this week, postponing Game 3 of the World Series, and allowing The Common Man to college football without guilt or the fear that he'll miss something switching back and forth. Indeed, the conflictingly scheduled game is the bane of the sports fan's existence, leading to self-doubt (which game should you be watching?), disappointment (you missed the double-reverse, flea-flicker TD pass), and, worst of all, bad karma (as the game you decide is most important to you will ultimately end poorly).

To celebrate his reprieve, The Common Man cracked open a Point Einbock, a local brew out of Stephen's Point, WI, that The Common Man had sampled a few weeks back. Indeed, hoping to improve his karma and his manly rooting talents, The Common Man knew he needed to drink a big beer, one with full body and flavor. Indeed, to have the testosterone to root properly, The Common Man strongly believes that only good, strong beer will prime your manly pump. Indeed, any beer drunk solely on the basis of its "drinkability" will leave your rooter on empty by the start of the third quarter.

Point's website brags that its Einbock "is hand-crafted utilizing the finest Munich and Vienna styles of specialty malts with a blend of Bavarian Hallertauer hops." It starts relatively smooth and flavorful, but has a strong bite on the back end. Still, the bite is not overbearing nor does it discourage further consumption. Rather, its a reminder to slow down and enjoy the beer's ample caramel and fruit flavors. It is a manly bite, sure to put hair on your chest and drop your voice by at least an octave. Perfect for gameday.

Stuff and Saturday Beer Review: Stockyard Oatmeal Stout

Today was a cool, crisp day. The kind of day where The Common Man doesn't mind being out raking leaves, contemplating the end of summer, because the temperature is perfect to do work and not become a sweaty nasty mess. Instead, he could collect said leaves into a neat pile and enjoy watching The Boy collapse, face-first, into them over and over. Indeed, as The Founding Father points out, over at The Mantuary, there is no month like October if you're a man. Football, baseball, raking, perfect temperatures. Fires in the evening.

And finally, it's time to get into real beer. No more light and airy beers, tasting vaguely of fruit and dancing. Instead, it's time to drink stouts, porters, and bocks, strong dark beers designed to ward off the cold and provide nourishment in the barren winter months. So, tonight, as The Common Man sits in his favorite chair, watching the Red Sox-Rays game, reading one of Rainster's latest book recommendations, and just enjoying life, he holds in his hand a mug of Stockyard Oatmeal Stout, which he found at his local Trader Joe's.

Stockyard is apparently brewed by Goose Island Brewing Company, out of Chicago. The Common Man says "apparently" because there is no Stockyard Brewing Company, and other beer bloggers out there have suggested that they've found some kind of connection. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that this is a perfectly acceptable beer, rich in flavor and dark in color. There's a significant amount of carbonation, and subsequently it has a thinner feel to it than, say, Guinness.

Indeed, after sneaking a taste, The Uncommon Wife called it "Guinness for wusses". She's got a point. That said, there's less flavor here than in Guinness. It's got more chocolate to it than coffee flavored aftertaste, and sticks with you far shorter than the Irish Stout by which Irish Stouts are judged. It's worth a try if you want to like Guinness but are turned off by just how thick, rich, and overbearing the beer can be. Just be sure to drink it when it's warmer. The Common Man gave it a try right out of the fridge and didn't get the full body of the beer until later. It was then he realized that it's a manly beer for manly men, but not for the manliest of men, who drink a Guinness for breakfast, a Guinness for lunch, and then a sensible dinner.

Saturday Beer Review: Summit Extra Pale Ale

Sometimes, when you drink a beer is just as important as what beer you drink and how it tastes. Case in point: today, The Common Man tackled Summit Extra Pale Ale.

Normally, he wouldn't be a fan given its overall hoppiness. However, since The Common Man had finished mowing the yard just before cracking it open, and he was enjoying a warm, Indian Summer day in the middle of fall, the Summit hit the spot.
It's the Prairie Home Companion of beers. You have to be in the right mood to enjoy it. Otherwise, it would be pretty annoying, with Garrison Keillor's overplayed folksiness and his utterly unnecessary singing.

The Extra Pale Ale is the flagship of Summit Brewery, light bronze, and, as The Common Man has mentioned, awfully hoppy. However, the hops are tempered somewhat by a light caramel flavoring. The beer is light and perfect for warm summer days, but flavorful enough for real beer drinkers.

However, it's not a beer for lazy drinkers. The Common Man walked away from his pint glass with about a half-inch of carbonated-malt goodness remaining because The Boy woke up from his nap. By the time he got back (about a half-hour later), the beer was flat and lifeless by then. So down it fast, while it's still cold and fizzy. And enjoy.

Saturday Beer Review: New Glarus Spotted Cow

For the first time in as long as he can remember, The Uncommon Wife advocated for a "pajama day" for the Uncommon family. She, The Common Man, and The Boy were to remain in their jammies all day, and simply enjoy being at home together on a crisp fall day. Fortunately, The Common Man had beer available for his sequestering. And since The Common Man isn't leaving the house today, he has chosen a beer that is both close to his home and close to his heart.

And in choosing a beer to siphon, The Common Man would be foolish not go with New Glarus's Spotted Cow. The Cow is a light "farmhouse" ale, cloudy in appearance and complex in flavor. The bitterness of the hops is mellowed by a slight fruity flavor and a bit of sweet corn. The result is a delightfully flavorful beer that leaves no aftertaste and is very refreshing.

Indeed, if The Common Man weren't duty bound to remain indoors all day, he'd say it's the perfect beer to take on a family picnic. The fruity flavor compliments the outdoors, while the low alcohol content (4.8 ABV) means you won't be acting drunk in front of your kids. Never underestimate the importance of saving face.

When you're sitting around, watching the Brewers beat the Phillies, there is no better beer. You support the local art of brewmaking, the local team, and display local pride. And if you're not a fan of the heavier beers, The Common Man believes you can drink this and not feel ashamed or less of a man. Saving face is important in front of the boys too.

Saturday Beer Review: Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat

When The Common Man was but The Common Boy, he and his brother, The Dentist, would always order the same drink, Cherry Seven-Up with extra cherries. You see, it was important that the beverage not taste like Seven-Up, but like bubbly cherry juice. And the extra maraschino cherries skewered by a plastic sword made for excellent hors d'oerves. Slowly, as their tastes matured, the brothers moved on to Cherry Coke (preferably with the cherries), until it was no longer socially acceptable to order a cherry-flavored drink with extra cherries. And, indeed, soon the appeal of the cherry-flavored beverage was squelched altogether.

When The Common Man first sipped Sam Adams' Cherry Wheat this evening, he was magically transported back to those days when extra grenadine and extra cherries were an integral part of any beverage. The cherries are frighteningly strong, and really overshadow the rest of the beer. Though it may have been exciting when The Common Man was still nine, sadly the overabundance of cherry goodness was a real turnoff to someone who was looking forward to a good beer. Instead, The Common Man got a bubbly mouthful of cherry. A cherry bomb. A veritable explosion of cherries.



This is surprising, since the Samuel Adams website claims that "The sweet fruitiness of the cherries is balanced against the crisp, cereal note from the malted wheat and the subtle citrus flavor from the Noble hops." Phooey, The Common Man says. This beer has the balance of a drunken Ohio State fan after a crushing and depressing defeat to USC. Or the balance of an inebriated Penn State backer revelling in another blowout win over a creampuff non-conference opponent. Just look at the logo there. Sam is surrounded by cherries. Like a football player (not a kicker) dragged to the ballet by his girlfriend, Sam just seems out of place. A real man surrounded by girliness. Baffled by a world he didn't make, and that has moved on without him.

And it's not like it's impossible to make a good cherry beer. Friend of the blog, Godfather to The Boy, and The Common Man's private brewmaster, The Deacon, has perfected a Cherry Porter that has a decent-sized cherry flavor but still tastes like a beer. Indeed, it's one of very few fruity-tasting beers manly enough for The Common Man. It may be, along with The Deacon's Drubble, The Common Man's favorite on a cold morning of tailgating, before the scrambled eggs and toast have been grilled on the barbecue and the Porembas have broken out the Taco Ring.

So, as wonderful as Sam Adams tends to be, the Cherry Wheat is a sad failure for them. Terribly disappointing for a beer that knows how to please a man. You might like it, you know, if you're a girl. Or if you don't like beer with your beer. If the latter's the case, you're not welcome at The Common Man's tailgate. If it's the former, feel free to stop by. The Common Man always has a fru-fru beer in the cooler for emergencies.

Saturday Beer Review: Fat Weasel Ale

As The Common Man sat down in the Mancave to watch the Ohio State-USC mismatch, he was supported by freshly baked sugar cookies and a bottle of Fat Weasel Ale, a thoroughly satisfying beer out of New Ulm, MN. Though not fancy, the Fat Weasel is a terrific option for a variety of scenarios, from tailgating to a fine compliment to steak dinner.

It's primary benifit is that it has flavor without being at all intrusive. Though an ale by name, the natural bitterness of the ale is subdued significantly. Thus, it allows the flavor of whatever you're eating to come through. Or, if you're simply drinking with the guys, the flavor won't get in the way of mass consumption, like the extreme bitterness of an IPA might.

What sets this beer apart, and perhaps may make it ideal for nights out with the boys or days drinking in a parking lot or field (I'm looking at you, Deacon), is the high alcohol content. At 7.1% ABV, this is easily the most alcoholic beer The Common Man has reviewed on this site. The alcohol, undoubtedly, covers a great deal of the ale's natural flavor, but it also might result in a day to remember (or perhaps not to remember).

For instance, if The Common Man were an Ohio State fan, he'd be drinking this beer in copious amounts from now until midnight. If you're in desperate need, Buckeye fans, head to your nearest Trader Joe's and grab a sixer or two. Follow them up with a couple of Aleve and a large glass of water. Wake up tomorrow and avoid any and all media outlets, and you won't even care that you don't remember how disappointing tonight was for you.

Saturday Beer Review: Moose Drool Brown Ale

He knows, you've all been waiting with baited breath to see if The Common Man will show today. Well, here he is, boys and girls, in all his glory. Behold and admire him. He's sequestered in his mancave, watching the manliest of sports, pro football, and enjoying many a fine carbonated malt beverage. The world is a strange place: Brett Favre is wearing a different shade of green (since he's a Jet), former LaDanian Tomlinson caddy Michael Turner has 196 yards on the ground for the Falcons (in related news, once again the Lions suck), and the lowly Kanses City Chiefs are keeping it close in New England.

And since this is a topsy-turvy, bizzarro world, The Common Man felt it was appropriate to crack open a Moose Drool Brown Ale in honor of the GOP's vice-presidential nominee, Gov. Sarah Palin.
Palin, of course, has burst onto the political scene in the last week and a half. She has transformed public consciousness, making phrases like "hockey moms," "moose hunting," and "Alaska" part of the national discussion. Indeed, Palin's ability to rally her base and to label herself at once a loving mother (and soon-to-be grandma) and a pitbull has been particularly impressive.

Like Sarah Palin, Moose Drool comes from the northwest part of the country. Brewed in Missoula, Montana by Big Sky Brewing Co., Moose Drool understand the world from which Palin comes, with its harsh winters, its imposing terrain, and its "hockey." Of course, Moose Drool's origins lie further south and east than Palin has tended to roam, but still comes across as a manly, big brew for men who need a lot of flavor in their beer. Indeed, Moose Drool is nothing like the Yard Beer that Kevin, at Return to Manliness, wrote about a month back.

Anyway, like Palin herself, Mosse Drool presents several contrasts. It's name would imply that it's disgusting, yet the label, a serene painting of a moose swimming in a mountain pond, suggests a cleaner, fresher beer than you're used to. And, like Palin herself, it combines that sweetness with a killer hoppiness that is very bitter. It's the first beer The Common Man has profiled here that's almost better warm, or at least cool. The chill tends to accentuate the beers hoppiness while killing some of the chocolate and carmel flavors that sweetens the aftertaste.

This is a sipping beer, best to have before a good meal, as it will dominate the food you're trying to enjoy. And it's a good beer to drink with a sole friend at dusk. The Common Man, for instance, was introduced to Moose Drool by his good friend, Alto, who is essentially like Arnold Schwarzenegger to The Common Man's Danny DeVito. As they sat at The Common Man's cabin, on the deck overlooking the lake, thinking about the work they had done and the times they had seen together, they both knew that life was good. And that the beer was too.

So, in honor of Sarah Palin, go get yourself a sixer of Moose Drool and enjoy the rest of your weekend. You've worked hard to get to where you are. Or, maybe you're a cynical appeal to two demographics who you think you need to energize in order to win an election. Either way, you deserve it.

Also in honor of Governor Palin, The Common Man presents another installment of Stupid Man Tricks:



That seems to be a poor strategy for hunting moose, being 10 feet away and shooting one in the neck. Also, The Common Man loves how his buddy tries to call the moose back after it a) has just been shot and b) almost killed his companion. That is the definition of friendship, right there, trying to get your pal trampled a second time.

Sunday Beer Review?: Leinenkugel's Amber Light

The Common Man was only too happy to double up on his drinking assignments this weekend. He had many options. Corona (pushed back to the week of May 5th). New Glarus (still got to get to those). Point (which The Uncommon Wife brought home today). But when The Common Man's neighbor, Jim, handed him a bottle, told him to chill it, and to report back on what he thought...well, The Common Man was intrigued. The intrigue, coupled with the fact that Jim is such a generous host, makes it impossible for The Common Man to refuse, even though the rest of you are going to have to sit through another Leinie's review.

This one, however, is a little offbeat. According to The Common Man's extensive research, the beer he was given, Leinenkugel's Amber Light no longer exists. Despite winning a gold medal in the American Amber "light" division at 2003's Association of Brewers Great American Beer Festival, Leinie's pulled the beer from production in 2006, supposedly to make way for the Summer Shandy and other less manly offerings. The Common Man's neighbor, then, has been holding this beer back in reserve, hoping against hope that he'll have the chance to buy more and shelling out one of his last remaining bottles in the hope that he can find a kindred spirit. Someone who, like him, will fight for its revival.

Sadly, The Common Man can't go quite that far. Don't get him wrong, it's a good beer. For a light beer especially, it has flavor and body. It goes down very easily and is crisp and refreshing. The hops are thoroughly under control, allowing the beer flavor to stand on its own. And it didn't seem to suffer from its long stay behind Jim's bar. But, at least as far as The Common Man is concerned, there doesn't really seem to be anything special about it. Indeed, after drinking it and turning to The Uncommon Wife for confirmation, he concluded that it tastes an awful lot like Yuengling Light, another decent light beer that doesn't have any real defining character.

The Common Man believes these beers have their place. For instance, real connisseurs of beer would not want to get drunk on something like Bass Ale or Newcastle, preferring to savor the experience and appreciate the flavors. But these lovers of good beer have nights when they need to tie one on, just like the rest of you. And no real connisseur should stand for drinking Bud Light into the wee hours. After all, they aren't in college anymore.

So, beers like Leinie's Amber Light serve a valuable function. Because they're smooth and non-descript, they can be drunk in mass quantities. Yet, they have enough flavor and body that they look and taste like real beer. It's not as though you're drinking carbonated, malt water. And there's no shame waking up the next morning next to an empty case of Amber Light. Sure, you probably overestimated its hotness the night before, but it's not like you ended up going home with the tatted-up woman with a mullet that you thought was a 10 and it turned out was a 2, and now you want to get her out before your roommate sees her. Rather, you thought it was an 8, and it turned out to be a 6. Not bad. Congratulations all around.

So drink your Amber Light and be not ashamed. Enjoy it for what it is, a decent beer that's easy to pound back and that is versatile enough to be enjoyed with any meal, and classy enough for a variety of occasions. But be honest about what it is: the beer that looks good when you put on your beer goggles, and that is otherwise ok.




One final note, an informal survey at the party yesterday confirmed that no one actually likes Leinie's Berryweiss. And even though the brewery's suggestion to combine the berry and honey weisses to make a Honeybear turns out to be a viable alternative ("It takes the edge off the Berryweiss" one fellow said. "It's not bad," reported another.), the consensus was the the Honeyweiss was still better. One wonders, then, why in the hell anyone ever makes a Honey bear, and why the brewery keeps making this inferior product, while allowing a perfectly decent beer like Amber Light to languish. It's almost sad.

Saturday Beer Review: Two-Hearted Ale

(Note: For reasons that will soon become apparent, The Common Man eschews all responsibility for any typos, grammatical mistakes, or blatantly untrue statements contained in this post. Purple monkey, dishwasher.)

The Common Man was invited (with his wife and son, of course) to the neighbors' house for a pre-Labor Day blowout today. The Uncommon Wife and The Boy checked out early, but because The Common Man was ensconced in discussion with other writerly types, she told him to feel free to continue hanging out. That was at about 3:30. It's currently 6:30, and The Common Man is just getting home. Ahem. There was beer. And adult conversation (often in short supply when you have short people). And the combination may have caused The Common Man to inadvertently leave The Uncommon Wife at home, alone, with The Boy for 3 hours on a Saturday.

And so, even though The Common Man was set to just review the one beer today, an intriguing ale sure to appeal to friend of the blog, Rainster, The Common Man figured he would supplement it with another review tomorrow. After all, he was conspicuously absent last Saturday, and feels like he owes you. And owes his wife. There will be dishes done tonight and garages cleaned out tomorrow, let The Common Man tell you.

Anyway, first and foremost, The Common Man was ecstatic this week to find, in his local grocer's aisle, Two Hearted Ale. If you don't get the reference, and thus why The Common Man was so excited, don't worry. It's a little obscure. The Common Man will explain.



The manliest writer in all of mandom, for better and for worse, was and is Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway epitomized manhood in a time when manliness was highly valued. His stories and novels of fishing, boxing, bullfighting, loving, and fighting enthralled generations of Americans and have ultimately been added to the canon of great literature.



His style of short, choppy sentences epitomized manly restraint as he vowed not to waste a single sentence in any of his works. And, unlike so many men today, Hemingway lived what he preached. He was an avid boxer, fisher, hunter, story-teller (ok, so some of them probably weren't true), and lover. He drank a pint of whiskey as he wrote and beer when he was done. He was a man's man, and the officially endorsed author of The Common Man.

Anyway, during his senior year of high school and his freshman year of college, The Common Man became increasingly aware of and interested in Hemingway and his work (particularly when taught by The Professor, The Common Man's college advisor/drinking buddy/role model). Intrigued by the manly world he talked about, The Common Man would lose himself in In Our Time, For Whom the Bell Tolls, and The Old Man and the Sea. He internalized the message that, even though the world may beat you down again and again, leaving you no chance to escape, a real man presses on. In the face of overwhelming and discouraging odds, he fights on. Even when the world takes all that you love, the real man endures until he is destroyed.

In his debut collection of short stories, In Our Time (1925), Hemingway concluded his work with "Big Two-Hearted River," parts 1 and 2. In it, Nick Adams, Hemingway's semi-autobiographical everyman, makes his way through a burnt-out forest on the way to a local fishing hole. There, he makes camp and, the next day, fishes for trout. It is a story of psychological trauma and healing, of a man confronting the challenges he knows he must face in order to continue existing, and choosing to endure the pains that will not get better. It is a moving, sad, and mesmerizing story that, frankly, every man should read.

And so, when The Common Man saw the sixer of Two-Hearted Ale on sale at the local supermarket, he knew he had to have it. Made by Bell's Brewery, in Kalamazoo, MI, TH Ale seems to be the flagship of the brewery. The brewer bills it as "India Pale Ale style well suited for Hemingway-esque trips to the Upper Peninsula. American malts and enormous hop additions give this beer a crisp finish and incredible floral hop aroma."

It presents with a deep gold color and extremely high carbonation, and has a generous alcohol content (7.0%). The carbonation makes it feel as though you're drinking a beery soda, and distracts from the overall beer. The hops, as the brewer indicates, dominate the flavor of the beer, making it extremely bitter and difficult to drink. Coupled with the carbonation, it's not a brew that The Common Man would recommend drinking in quantity. Instead, it's the kind of beer that should be savored with a group of manly friends. Even better, have one at a time (since men are, ultimately, alone), and spread them out over six nights. Have it with fish or at the end of a long day. Or watching the sunset on your deck. Whatever you do, don't talk while you drink it.



Instead, imbibe it when you have time to contemplate. Contemplate yourself, and what you've accomplished. Who you've been and who you want to be. Think about the examples Hemingway provides us (rather than the rather troubling example he was) and try to live up to them.

But, above all, endure it. Endure its bubbles. Endure its hops. Endure its bitterness. Just endure. In the end, you'll feel better. And when you're done, shut the door and turn off the light. Don't say good-bye, because it will be like saying good-bye to a brown, empty glass statue. Go out and leave and walk back to your house. Preferably in the rain.

Saturday(ish) Beer Review

Those of you who have been around a while may remember that The Common Man's first foray into Leinenkugel's line of brews was largely disappointing. Indeed, at this point, the word "berryweiss" is verboten in The Common Man's house, despite the fact that 3-4 bottles are still hanging out in The Common Man's fridge, trying to be a bad influence on the other beers.

But since The Common Man seems likely to stay in Wisconsin for some length of time, he thought it only fair to give the unofficial beer of Wisconsin a second chance. So today, The Common Man sampled Leinie's Sunset Wheat and Honeyweiss beers. Much better, ladies and gentlemen. Much, much better.

Leinenkugel's says that "we captured the Northwoods' finest moment in every batch." Sound ridiculous? Yeah, it does. After all, what the heck would a sunset taste like if you could capture it? But more importantly, is it any good?

Well, it ain't bad. The Sunset Wheat is a dark amber in color and presents with a lightness that is a vast contradiction to its flavor. Indeed, the Sunset Wheat is hoppy. Very hoppy. And the hoppiness sticks as a strong aftertaste. It's much like an I.P.A., to the point where the hops truly dominate the beer. So, while not bad, it's not exactly good in anything but small doses. A beer at a time, maximum. Preferably sipped slowly over a long evening with plenty of hors d'oeurves.

On the other hand, the Honeyweiss is terrific. Smooth and sweet, it's easy to drink and lacks any of the aftertaste that diminishes the Sunset Wheat. It has a light and fizzy quality and the honey is subtle. It's more of a summer brew, not big enough or flavorful enough to satisfy in the cold of tailgating or while watching the snow fall for the 8th day in a row in March. You'll want to drink alot of it, so The Common Man suggests getting a case and sequestering yourself to watch the Olympics. You'll want to devote your entire weekend both of them anyway.

As a final note, The Common Man is amused to find out that Leinenkugel's web site suggests that you mix Honeyweiss with Berryweiss to make "Honey Bear." The Common Man cannot emphasize enough how bad of an idea that truly is. It's like taking the Mona Lisa, cutting half of it off, and stitching it to Dogs Playing Poker. Or watching the most exciting first half of football in history and coming back from the bathroom to start the second half and see that a soccer game has broken out instead. Just another example of Berryweiss's bad influence.

Saturday Beer Review: Yuengling Traditional Lager

If you've ever walked into a bar in the Mid-Atlantic region of this country, you've undoubtedly heard of Yuengling. If you've known The Common Man long enough, you've hoisted a pint or 20 with him. The name sings off the tongue, a sweet note of nonsense that sounds like something The Boy would say while he holds a conversation with a strainer he's about to put on top of his head. D.G. Yuengling & Sons, Inc. bills itself as the oldest brewery in the U.S. (circa 1829), and makes several fine products. The flagship, however, is the Yuengling Traditional Lager, known affectionately around the state as simply "Lager."



Yuengling benefits from being refreshing, flavorful, and cheap. Cheaper than everything except the American waters who pass themselves off as lagers. Indeed, Yuengling is a true lager, full-bodied and flavorful. Muddier and darker than your Budweisers. If you like beer, and are looking for a good, inexpensive, but not heavy beer, you've found your man.

The flavor is difficult to describe, other than "beery." Perhaps "balanced" is a better and more appetizing term. You won't find the hops outmuscling the caramel malt, nor will you be burdened by a heavy aftertaste. In fact, Yuengling rinses clean away, and just as easy to gulp as it is to sip. The Common Man heartily endorses sharing a pitcher with friends. The bottles are good, but the beer appeals to so many palettes that it's best to share and bond. So enjoy the pride of Pottsville, PA (a close second: author John O'Hara) without reservation. Don't be fooled by the funny name and go for something familiar; you'll miss out and you may never have a chance to say the word "Yuengling" again.

Sorry for the relatively short review. The Common Man was in Delaware most of the day.