Monday, I bought a Goose Island sampler pack. Tuesday, sampling completed. I bought it as part of an ongoing campaign on my part to identify and imbibe every delicious yet reasonably priced beverage I can get my hands on. This campaign is of course rooted in my own deep personal sense of... well of poverty. Lets be honest folks, the moment I get my hands on some cash I'm going straight back to $60 bottles of bourbon "for mixing" and a $70/weekend St. Germain budget. Until that time, you can all enjoy me floundering my way through the petite-bourgeois end of the booze pool.
From left to right: India Pale Ale, Nut Brown Ale, Oatmeal Stout, Honkers Ale.
I chose Goose Island for this particular experiment because, well, I like Goose Island. Not the beer necessarily, and certainly not a real island filled with this most wretched of animals, but the brand. "Quiet competence" is something of a Midwestern ideal, and whether or not Goose Island posses that virtue, they certainly project it in spades. Just look at that box. It says "yeah, I've got some flash, a little color, maybe some fancy script, but I'm not going to cover the box in artwork or fake stickers like some kind of damn hippie!" I also chose Goose Island because I am a big fan of their "fancy beers" of the $10-20/bottle variety, and while I had somewhat written off the brands basic brews, a pack of "Mild Winter" that I had enjoyed recently had convinced me to give them another shot at $13 of my imbibing dollars.
So, what did I get for my $13? Well, lets say I got 2 No Reservations's, and 2 Man Vs. Food's, which is a lot better than the 1 Battlestar Galactica and 3 CSI: Miami's that you get in a Brooklyn sampler.
The least impressive was easily the India Pale Ale. Now, I know what you're expecting: mass produced IPA, not enough damn hops. Shockingly, this was not the case. The hops taste was crisp, forward, and cascade-tastic. Unfortunately, what came after was a shockingly Blatz-y yeast note from which me and the beer's relationship never quite recovered.
Next up was the most impressive and most shocking beer out of the entire pack, the Nut Brown Ale. Why was it so shocking? Because I don't bloody like nut brown ales. It's not that there is anything inherently wrong with them, it's just that they are usually all malty-sweetness, and I am all about hoppy-bitterness. What set this one apart? The extraordinary strength and clarity of the toasted nut flavors. It was like drinking a glass full of toasted walnuts, alcohol and happiness.
Also a winner in a category I'm not usually a fan of? The Oatmeal Stout. Most stouts = malt-splosion = dead to me. This beer? Nice and bitter, no unpleasantly caramel-y malt flavor = my new favorite stout.
Last and barelynotleast, the Honkers Ale. Too sweet to drink like pop, but not complex enough to drink like it matters. Replace either this or the IPA with Mild Winter, and you'd have yourself a sampler pack worth buying, except for one minor problem. You see, unlike most breweries, Goose Island charges exactly the same price for their sampler as they do for a regular 12-pack. So for the exact same price, I could have had 12 great beers, instead of 6 great beers, 6 mediocre beers, and a lingering sense of obligation. My advice?
Go buy some goddamn Mild Winter before they cut off the supply.
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