Beer O'Clock: Sour French Kiss
I can't remember the last time that I bought beer.
In Ottawa, that is. I bought beer whilst in Costa Rica, some cans to put in the refrigerator of or rental condo, to enjoy as we sat on our patio or relaxed by the pool.
I've also bought pints in pubs, for lunch, dinner, trivia night, and karaoke night.
But I can't remember the last time that I bought beer to stock my beer fridge. For months, that appliance has sat nearly empty.
With the recent closure of another Ottawa brewery, Kichessippi, I grow nervous for the other area microbreweries. I liked Kichessippi and feel for the folks who are now out of work, and I would be devastated if we lost breweries like Stray Dog, Bicycle Craft, Broadhead, and others.
So maybe I should get back in the habit of stocking my beer fridge with their wonderful brews.
I opened this fridge the other day, hopeful that I'd find one errant can of beer but knowing, in truth, that I had none. And in fact, I had none: DW, on the other hand, had something.
When we were on vacation, last September, and were travelling around the Saguenay region of the Laurentians, we stopped in a dépanneur to see the local brews that were in their refrigerated section. Something that grabbed DW's eye went into our cart, and then into our cooler, and, eventually, the beer fridge, where it has remained, untouched, all this time, since.
"If you're not going to drink this beer," I called to her, "I will."
"Don't you dare," she shouted to me from our main floor. After a pause, she told me that I could have one of them.
DW loves sour, fruity ales. She's a big fan of cider so a sour isn't much of a stretch. Seeing this brew on the grocery shelves, she loved the artwork of the can, which was what caught her eye. And when we were making our way back home, we stopped in the town of Baie-Saint-Paul, where the brewery is located, and lunched at the brewery.
So I don't know why she's held off on drinking this beer all this time, but I was more than ready to crack one of the cans open.
Microbrasserie Charlevoix
Baie-St-Paul QC
Appearance: initially poured a crystal-clear, candy-apple red with a very foamy, pale-pink head that occupied about half of the glass when the can wasn't even halfway poured. I let the head settle, topping up the glass as space availed itself, and was left with a solid cap over a murky, burnt-red liquid. There was definitely sediment in the can that ended up in the glass.
Nose: sour crabapple with what could be cranberries and currants. (Actually, I discovered that cranberries and blackcurrants were part of the mash after I finally read the label.) It smells more like a cider than a beer.
Palate: the cranberries lead the sour cassis and I'm pleased that the sourness isn't overpowering. I'm not a fan of sour ales if they punch you in the mouth, and this one doesn't. It's no more sour than a lemonade. There's a sweetness in the fruit that cuts the acidity. The body is light and the finish palate-cleansing.
This would be a perfect summer brew. It's too bad that we picked it up in the fall and I opened it as the end of winter was approaching. I'm going to recommend that DW saves the other can for a hot day.
Overall impression: Sour French Kiss gets you puckering up but not for an aggressive necking. Rather, it's looking for a gentle but passionate snogging as it caresses your tongue. It's seductive and gets the senses all tingly.
In other words, it's good. Very good.
Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺
Much of the beer from Microbrasserie Charlevoix can be found in shops throughout Gatineau and across Québec, and I hope we'll see more of this beer when the weather gets warmer. As much as I will continue to support my local breweries, I'm happy to give my support to Québec breweries such as this one.
Cheers!
Comments
Post a Comment