 Oro de Calabaza Artisan Golden Ale |
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Oro de Calabaza Artisan Golden Ale |
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I have this thing for really small breweries. We’re not talking
microbreweries, mind you, but even smaller: what you might call nanobreweries. These guys
don’t make a lot of beer, but what they do make is often quite special, and
many frequently concentrate on one particular nice market in the beer world.
Such was the case with the now defunct and much lamented Emerald Isle Brew Works of tiny West Warwick, Rhode Island. Rather ironic that my tiny hometown would have its own craft brewery, but it did, if only for a short while. Emerald Isle specialized in cask ales, but their production run was so small it was pretty much impossible for them to make a profit. Some months ago, another tiny brewer caught my notice when Jolly Pumpkin ales surfaced here in Atlanta. Located in a small and unobtrusive town (just like Emerald Isle) named Dexter, Michigan, Jolly Pumpkin is about 50 miles from Detroit. And just like Emerald Isle, Jolly Pumpkin concentrates on a niche market. Specifically, they brew French-style biere de garde, and age it in oak before bottling. The results are nothing short of spectacular, and are well worth the higher than average prices serious beer drinkers will be shelling out. After all, you don’t come across beers like these every day, now do you? I did, when I popped a bottle of Jolly Pumpkin Oro de Calabaza Artisan Golden Ale. Sure, the brewery may be small, but that doesn’t mean that the beer can’t have one of those long and sophisticated names. Of course, the name “Oro de Calabaza” means gold of Calabaza (I think). Calabaza is a squash similar to a pumpkin with a golden interior, though I’m pretty sure that no calabaza or pumpkin goes into this beer. Jolly Pumpkin Oro de Calabaza Artisan Golden Ale pours to a light orange color tinged with yellow that could be said I suppose to resemble a golden hue. A colossal head of soapy foam formed atop the liquid, composed of densely packed tiny bubbles. A thick layer of Brussels lace clung to the sides of my glass as the liquid descended. The nose is very tart, with subtle suggestions of spice. Once you sip, a touch of soft, slightly caramelly malt can be discerned at first, but before long you’ll get that decidedly tart sourness the nose promised thrown right at you. It intensifies in the finish, making the beer eminently quenching. The oak aging adds soft notes of vanilla, and you’ll also pick up fruity citric notes of oranges and lemons, and a touch of sour green apple. A healthy spiciness permeates the beer as well, some anise perhaps the most noticeable. The finish is dry and balanced with a slightly floral hop character, but is not really bitter. In truth, it doesn’t need to be thanks to the sourness. Oro de Calabaza is deceptively easy drinking, and its 8% alcohol by volume content will sneak up on you rather quickly if you’re not careful. I couldn’t help but drink an entire 750ml bottle; it was really gone before I knew it. Excellent stuff, here. But then the little guys always do make the best beer anyway.
And remember, try a new beer today, and drink outside the box. *Pricing data accurate at time of review or latest update. For reference only, based on actual price paid by reviewer. (B)=Bottled (D)=Draft |
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