How does that old business adage go? Location, location, location. But I think there's something that can be even more important than location to a business: timing, timing, timing. And timing, of course, does not seem to be on the side of Anheuser-Busch with the release of their Budweiser American Ale. Why might that be, you ask? Because unless you've been hiding out in a cave for the last six months or so (and even then I'd be a mite surprised if you haven't heard), Anheuser-Busch is no longer an American company, having been gobbled up this summer by the Belgian-Brazilian Inbev conglomerate.

That puts a rather un-American slant on the new American Ale. To be fair, the boys at Bud have been working on this one for a while, announcing its arrival well before the Inbev acquisition. Then too, they're trying to trumpet this as an entirely new style, "American Ale". At the same time, you've probably seen a lot of billboards lately declaring Budweiser's flagship beer as "American Lager".

The latter has a bit of a claim to truth, most noticeably because American lagers like classic Bud, Miller, and Coors have been granted their own sub-style of American Light Lager (not to be confused with light beers). But AB has released promotional videos declaring that America really does not have an ale all its own, and that it really should mind you, and therefore enter Anheuser-Busch to the rescue with their new beer.

I beg to differ, of course. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale comes to my mind as a classic American ale, and there are so many more I can't even begin to name them all. In effect, Budweiser American Ale is really nothing more than an amber ale (and Miller Brewing really beat them to the punch in that style by more than a decade with their Miller Reserve Amber Ale).

Still and all, this is a radical departure for AB, who in the past have relegated anything approaching a craft beer/microbrew to their Michelob line. The use of select malts and American Cascade hops is touted highly, and sure enough there's a lot more to this beer than I expected.

Budweiser American Ale pours to a coppery amber brown color with a light fizzy head formation and a slightly chocolaty, surprisingly malty nose. The palate is surprising too, with a hint of caramel and even more chocolate malty flavors to it. But lest you forget you're drinking a Budweiser beer, let your beer warm slightly and you'll get a hint of green apple, too.

The technical term for that green apple flavor is acetaldehyde, a compound that most brewers consider a flaw. But it's present in Budweiser's classic lager, too, and I'm certainly getting it here. It's almost become a signature of the lager, and seems now to serve as a link between the latter and the new ale. As to hops, there are enough to balance, but not enough to really be noticeable.

Overall impressions? Budweiser American Ale is a drinkable, tasty enough ale, which is exactly what AB was going for. It's a decent amber ale in the final analysis, especially for six bucks a six-pack, and while there are tons more like it already on the market, none come from such a large brewery as Anheuser-Busch. Is this a sign that the craft beer craze is more than a fad, and that consumers increasingly want more flavor in their beer? You betcha. But American Ale is also a double-edged sword for AB, because while it may generate curiosity business from the notoriously fickle craft beer crowd, it's unlikely to garner repeat business.

Instead, it may cost them customers, as some Bud drinkers may try it just because of the name, decide they like it, and end up experimenting with craft beers from other, smaller brewers.

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