A return to reviews

So I originally intended this to be an outlet for our opinions on things, and have been decidedly lax on that front. Now considering I live in what could be considered the capital of beers, the very people who inspired Beer Fest, and who annually hold Octoberfest, it may be surprising that the beer I chose to review now is a bit closer to home. I bring you Samuel Adams Boston Lager! Oh and an aside, proof that they like their beer, the entire state still hasnt sobered up enough to realize that they hold Octoberfest in September.

Samuel Adams Boston Lager
4.8% ABV and 35 IBU

This is as much a review of German Beers versus American Beers as much as it is a review of Sam Adams. My annalogy is to relate them to cars. I love German cars, VW, BMW, Mercedes, they are refined, generally flawless, and a joy to behold. But anyone who saw my first car knows that I like a bit of what would be generously described as roughness. Not 120 grit sand paper rough, I mean rough around the edges. My first car was also Aaron's first car, and Ethan's first car, and it was older than me. It was a 1983 Chevrolet Crew Cab with an extended bed. It was light blue, though it spent various times in its life with us with brown doors, a mismatched rust and blue paintjob, and its final baby blue courtesy of Pa and I and a June afternoon. I digress, but you may see the difference I am hinting at. German beers are wonderful, perfectly smooth, balanced as only hundreds of years of brewing the same recepie can be. But they lack that origionality, that tail pipe about to fall off edge that I really like. This difference led me to a proclaiment last Friday night, when I looked in the fridge and said to my bride, "I need some American Beer." Now while that could have meant Coors or Miller or Budweiser, I wanted an origional car, not a 1983 Honda that belches blue smoke. Sam Adams is a readily accesable representation of what makes American beer great. It has the right blend of hops, that hint of spice, and the rich warm color that make you feel like youre back in New England again. It goes perfectly well with steak or hotdogs, as a refresher after mowing the lawn or something to enjoy after dinner while my bride quafs a Guiness. It is like Otis, my stuffed dog from when I was 4, that reminder of warm days and happy memories. It can go anywhere and still be great, even if it is the young whippersnapper compared to its neighbors in my refrigerator. And when push comes to shove, it is easier to justify 12 ounces over 1/2 a liter.