It’s one of my favorite response memes, an illustrated tale told in six mostly quiet panels. The man speaks, with great seriousness, “I DON’T LIKE THING.” Slowly, carrying her harp, an angel descends a staircase of light and hands a note to the man. It reads, simply, “OK.”
Not all that long ago, this meme might have been me. I used to get irritated when I didn’t share enthusiasm for the things it seemed like everybody loved. It’s still hard, sometimes, to not get frustrated by fanbases that seem irreconcilable with reality or reason. I mean, really, The Bachel — nevermind, nope, not getting into it.
The beer calendar sees seasonal releases of certain beers that it seems like almost everyone goes bonkers for, but that some grumpuses just can’t seem to get behind. Right now, it’s Sierra Nevada Celebration Fresh Hop IPA season. And one of those grumpuses, I’m sorry to report, has been me.
Like Bell’s Hopslam in late spring, Celebration is a signifier of entry into a new phase of the year. The Celebration label shifts subtly from year to year, as Sierra Nevada’s typeface choices change, or when the brewery calls it a “Fresh Hop IPA” rather than simply “ale” as in previous years. But the center of the label is always red, showing a cabin in a pine forest, bedecked with snow. It’s evocative.
Now, I will first admit that of all the hop flavor profiles, the piney hops are less often what I clamor for; I prefer tropical or citrusy ones. Here’s the thing, though: we don’t have to like every beer, even the popular ones.
I razz my buddy Mark, probably too much, for not being a barleywine guy. It is not a fatwa situation, he is not an anti-barleywine zealot. He’s just not that into them, doesn’t subscribe to the #BIL — “barleywine is life” — drinking regimen. As an adjunct ingredient nerd, I found it more galling, frankly, that he doesn’t often care for coconut or (gasp) hazelnut flavors in his beers. I trollishly brought our bottle of Haunted Hazelnut over to share last week with him and his wife, and to his enduring credit, he did proclaim it tasty.
That sense of polite disregard is how I typically feel about rauchbiers, too. It may frustrate fans of the smoky Germanic style, but they’re not my jam. I rarely order them, like I rarely buy or order Celebration IPA.
But this last weekend, a sort of miracle on Milwaukee Street: The Malt House was open on a Sunday. The Packers-Ravens game was being shown on a projector screen, and Karben4 was debuting a special release just for Malt House, and just for the game. It was a raspberry/chocolate oatmeal stout, by the by, and it was pretty decent. Wouldn’t you know it, though, Celebration was on tap too.
If I’m going to find a way to love Celebration, I thought, it’s going to be in draft form. The atmospheric bottle art is one part of the experience, sure, but in the end it’s about the beer in that bottle, or in the glass.
Celebration pours a deep amber, almost ruby hue, with a persistent resinous pine character in both aroma and flavor. Unlike Hopslam, it’s a casual-drinking beer; at only 6.8% ABV, it’s nowhere near imperial, and the bitterness comes in at a reasonable (for the style) 65 international bittering units.
I have no problem acknowledging that it’s a damn near flawlessly crafted beer. The balance, the color and clarity, the head retention — it’s all so dialed in. Those Sierra Nevada folks, their brewery may just make it. And I will also say that this year, I found the beer to be good. Fine. I didn’t regret ordering it.
Even if my wife and I traded pints at about halfway through.
