Weyerbacher Imperial Pumpkin Ale

Available in regular six packs, Weyerbacher Pumpkin tastes like the kind of beer one expects to get in a bomber or growler. (It's priced that way too-- be ready to pay ten bucks or more for a sixer). Indeed, at 8.0% ABV, a pint of this delicious brew is all you really need to get a pleasant buzz on; drinking a full six pack, or even splitting it with the estimable Pumpking, will get you drunk in a hurry. (Which explains, in part, why there is only review going up today. Like the Dwarves of Moria, we dug too deeply and too greedily into the chilled beerstock last night). The bold taste, too, suggests something that traditionally comes in a singular, large serving size. It's got that special, "there can be only one" je ne sais quoi. Like the Pumpking bomber, more than one of these is simply glutinous. We recommend starting a beery night with Weyerbacher, and then moving on to more manageable brews, like Saranac or Blue Point. 

But this is definitely a beer worth trying. The craft brewery, out of Easton, PA, boasts that their product is "the mother of all pumpkin ales... heartier, spicier, and more 'caramelly' and 'pumpkiny' than its faint brethren." They got the first part right, in any case. Upon the pour, sift&sniff, and first taste, one is treated to an indulgent (if slightly overwhelming) burst of caramel as well as strong hints of cinnamon, like a pumpkin infused Twix Bar. To be sure, then, Weyerbacher upon first blush is among the sweetest pumpkin beers available, comparable to UFO in its prime (see post below). What makes the brew interesting is that it mellows after the first few sips-- or perhaps the taste buds acclimatize-- becoming somehow robust instead of deliriously saccharine. It grows more balanced as you drink it down. Does Weyerbacker live up to its claims of achieving optimal pumpkinyness, you might justifiably ask? That depends on your definition of pumpkiny. If you want your pumpkin flavor to resemble reduced-sugar pie filling, then yes sir, that's your baby; if you are looking something with a little more bite (and why wouldn't you when purchasing a self-proclaimed imperial ale?) you might be disappointed. We were assuredly not disappointing, however. I wish I could tell you more about it, but as I say, drinking more than one of them may cause impaired judgment and memory lapses, among other things. Oops.

From the haze of last night, though, this at least is a true statement: Weyerbacher Pumpkin is a gem of a beer. Grade: A-.

UFO Pumpkin

I'm searching for a stronger word to describe UFO pumpkin, but so far the best I've come up with is "uneven." But to an epic degree. UFO was the first pumpkin beer to arrive on the scene in Upstate New York, surfacing in area bars and the grocery store in late August, and going for a reasonable $7.99 a six pack. If we had been a little less lazy and reviewed UFO right away, it would have received a glowing report. Our first encounter with UFO was magical; we raised our glasses joyfully to toast in the fall, and found, to our great pleasure, a very sweet inauguration. The beer was so rich and creamy, like drinking pumpkin pie, that we took to calling it a dessert beer.  It could have been served Starbucks-style, with a frothy whipcream head and delicious, delicious sprinkles. Although the beer had already been amply spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg, we enjoyed its flavor so much that we proposed drinking it with a box of graham crackers (a proposal ultimately shot down when it was determined that no city bar currently stocks cookies of any kind) and treating the brew like pie filling. Improving matters further, the Pumpking chatted up the regional UFO representative at the bar and was rewarded with free beer. Looking back now, we should have known trouble was on the horizon. Things this good don't last.

Flash forward to present. Something, somewhere went terribly, terribly wrong. That, or something's rotten in Rochester. In the weeks since UFO first won our hearts, they have broken them many times over. Now what I am about to disclose is shocking, so before you start to question me, gentle reader, know this: we have bought six packs at different times and from different stores to try to cast a wide net and produce a fair sample size. To no avail. Over the last month, the once mighty UFO has gone sour. LITERALLY. The beer tastes skunky and unpleasant, still pumpkiny but quite spoiled, like the brewery either used fresh ingredients that don't age well or they got a bad batch of canned pumpkin after their initially-successful launch (and admittedly this is UFO's first stab at pumpkin beer; the rep told us while dispensing freebies and pleasantries).  While drinking their recent stuff I imagined that last, saddest pumpkin left in the patch-- lumpy, moldy, bruised, soggy, unlovable except to a Charlie Brown. Then I imagined that UFO guy grabbing it up, throwing it in the hopper, and rubbing his hands together gleefully  (and possibly twirling a newly-grown mustache) at his fiendish plot: the old bait-and-switch. Give 'um the good stuff, get 'um hooked, and then dole out a line of crappy replacement product.

UFO has shrunk in our estimation from nearly first to nearly the worst. Original UFO: A+/ Current iteration: D-. Yikes.

Heavy Seas-- The Great Pumpkin

Well, so much for improved diligence.

So, the Great Pumpkin, eh? Let's be clear, there are definitely a few things that are great about this beer: its name (nice homage to a Halloween classic), its size (you can only get them in 22oz bombers), and its coloring (when held against soft light after being poured in a glass, er, goblet, the beer projects multicolored layers of oranges and browns-- kind of like a tequila sunrise but with autumn colors). Another great thing about this beer is the story of how the Pumpking and I acquired it. While shopping at Beers of the World, a massive store which delivers everything promised in the name, we made a beeline for their special "seasonal beers" shelf to see what was new in pumpkindom. A lot, apparently. However, they only had one Heavy Seas bomber left in stock. I made to grab for it just as another fellow, less regal in countenance and dress, did the same. I beat him by seconds, and, after an awkward moment of staring at each other, he deferred to me, admitting that I won the beer "fair and square."

Good thing, because this is hardly a beer worth fighting over. Priced at about ten bucks a bomber, we were expecting great things from the Great Pumpkin, a beer described as "imperial" on a label which is otherwise sadly marred by superfluous pirate cliches. An example, you say? How about "Its Extraaaaaaaardninary," as the bearded sea-rat on the front of the bottle claims. If only.  The beer tastes, to an extraaaaardinary degree, like last year's disappointing Pumpking ale. That is, it starts off incredibly sweet upon initial taste, but the longer one allows it to linger over the palate, the more bitter it becomes. A study in contrasts is an interesting thing, naturally, but it lent this beer a certain mercurial flavor. It couldn't decide whether it wanted to please us with buttery, creamy pumpkin pie sweetness and light, or blast us with the imperial stout lurking beneath the surface. Ultimately, as we split the brew, it decided to try for both and achieved neither. The more our taste buds grew accustomed to Great Pumpkin, the more nondescript it became. By the half-way point of consumption, the beer became bland-- drinkable but not desirable. Quite a head-scratcher, really. Heavy Seas is a tricky little blighter to figure out, and in the end the effort is hardly justified.

In all, a strange creature of a beer. It's worth trying once if you're looking to make the rounds, but if you are only in the market for solid pumpkin beer pass this one by. B-/C+.