For my birthday last week I told Sarah we would go beer tasting at the Park Chalet brewery in Golden Gate Park. This was very unusual for me; normally I refuse to make my own birthday plans. That’s the job of my loved ones: discern my deepest wants and make them birthday wishes come true. I’d brought Sarah to the Park Chalet several weeks prior—our first time—while researching an article on the park for 7x7. I bought her appetizers and a margarita to bribe her into being my photographer for the day, (food and booze are valued currencies to that girl). That’s when I saw that the Park Chalet’s draught selection is comprised of original house brews. Tempted though I was, I made the wise decision to keep my head clear for the task at hand that day, (i.e. I allowed myself but one beer), and vowed to return and drink them all another day. Here are my notes from my birthday beer sampler ($13): V.F.W. Light (7/10): Besides being a little sour, the V.F.W. Light doesn’t have much taste. I’m awarding it a bonus point for having the coolest label though. Giant-ass battleship cruising around the Golden Gate Bridge.
I wonder what V.F.W. stands for? Okay I googled it: Veterans of Foreign Wars. Hence the battleship. But this light blonde ale hardly seems fitting for our vets. I see them more as an Imperial Stout. Oh man, I didn’t even mean to make the “Imperial” association. How about moonshine? Maybe our vets are moonshine. High Tide Hefeweizen (5/10): Hefes were my favorite beer when I was 22. I had a child’s taste buds and next to a 40 ouncer of Mickey’s, Blue Moon tasted like richman’s beer. High Tide, like other hefeweizens, is fruity and flavorful—the Capri Sun of the beer world. It’s not bad by any means, but I’m 28—shit make that 29—I need sophisticated, oldman beer. California Kind Ale (8/10): This is my kind of beer. It’s got hops, but not in the mouth-puckering way we’ve all grown accustomed to an account of brewers who think that a butt-ton of hops is a shortcut to character. But it’s not really their fault because the friggin craft beer community has such a snooty hard-on for hops that they hardly recognize any beer unless it has the letters I, P, and A and the flavor profile of a pinecone. Seriously, good beer should be about profile, not ridiculously overstacking one dimension. Goddammit. Where was I? Malt. I love it, this beer’s got it. It’s like an English Bitter—a Newcastle with a touch of hops. Presidio Pale Ale (5/10): The tasting placard reads “strong hop character.” IS THIS THE EXACT BEER I JUST FINISHED RANTING ABOUT? Okay, it’s not that hoppy. It’s got 73 IBUs, but tastes far milder. It’s alright, but it doesn’t have a lot going on. Riptide Red Ale (7/10): A nice and mellow a red ale. Very calming. FleishHacker (4/10): This roasted, chocolate oatmeal stout has a faint hint of cough medicine. I’m no stout man, rarely drink the stuff, but I know that can’t be right! There were also two seasonals, both of which were quite good. But they didn’t come with little placards and the server talked really fast so I forgot all the names and details. Look, I’m a visual learner who’d been drinking. Typing up these notes it appears that my general opinion was that these beers were okay. Besides the FleishHacker, none tasted bad, but with the exception of the California Kind Ale, none were particularly interesting. It’s funny, because thinking back I remember enjoying the sampler more. Maybe that’s because it was my birthday. Maybe because I just like drinking. Maybe because this place is ridiculously gorgeous.
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