It says a lot about how far Alberta has come when beers that are clean, well-made and tasty start to be considered run-of-the-mill stuff.
On one side, you have a craft beer industry that is maturing and finding its stride, thanks to a wealth of creative, talented and proficient brewers working in Alberta. On the other side, you have a customer base that has grown up alongside the industry and has come to expect adventurous beers that are brewed to a high standard.
It’s a nice place to find ourselves, but I can’t help but wonder if people aren’t getting a little spoiled when a couple people I know recently described beers from Blind Enthusiasm’s Market brewery as “underwhelming.” While the Market’s offerings may be straightforward compared to the complex, mixed-fermentation beers being made at Blind Enthusiasm’s Monolith brewery, the putdown seems more than a little unfair: Blind Enthusiasm won Brewery of the Year at the 2018 Alberta Beer Awards solely on the strength of its Market-produced beers. I’ve always enjoyed the non-traditional touches the Market puts on traditional styles and the beers are, without exception, clean and free of flaws.
“Clean and free of flaws” should be the expectation these days, but we’re not at the point where we can take it for granted. I recently poured two new releases from an Alberta brewery down the drain because both had a distinct, unpleasant plastic and vinyl flavour to them. There are a few causes, but a frequent one is using chlorinated tap water without treating it. Some people perceive the off-flavour as a smoky trait, but both observations are in the ballpark.
Lest we get too smug about the sophistication of Albertans’ palates, I’ll add that this off-flavour has been showing up in this brewery’s beers for the better part of a year — but that hasn’t stopped the fanboys and fangirls from posting rave reviews on ratings sites. What HazeLuvr69 calls “an interesting spin on the style,” I call a failure.
Anyway, back to the Market: before the pandemic, one of the only places to get its beers was Blind Enthusiasm’s on-site restaurant, Biera — either in-house or via a growler fill to go. When Biera closed due to public health measures, Blind Enthusiasm pivoted and started canning beers from the Market for off-site consumption.
I decided to try a new offering, Uncharted Citra, as opposed to one of their mainstays. Blind Enthusiasm isn’t big on style guidelines, but I’ll go out on a limb and call it a pale ale. They’ve added a bunch of Citra hops late in the boil, a technique that’s intended to increase hop flavour and aroma without dramatically adding bitterness.
The beer poured with a faintly dank aroma and a whiff of the characteristic cat-pee smell that Citra hops can be known for, but the overall effect was subdued and never tipped over into being disagreeable. The Citra hops came forward more in the flavour, bringing a sweet orange taste, like mandarins. The malt had a pleasant and mild crackery quality to it and it provided a good counterbalance to the hop presence. There was a softness to the medium-full mouthfeel and a touch of lingering bitterness on the palate, but it finished crisp and moderately dry.
If that seems like faint praise after building up the Market as much as I have, it’s not meant to be. The resulting beer doesn’t deliver the Citra punch that I wanted and expected — but it’s nicely balanced, it’s free of any identifiable faults and it hit the right spot for a sunny afternoon on my patio.
One thing I’m mindful of, is that the beers brewed at the Market are geared toward pairing with the food at Biera. It’s entirely possible the brewers were going for a more subdued, balanced take than what I had in mind. Since Day 1, Blind Enthusiasm has been zealous about recipe development and has kept tweaking its beers until they feel they’re dialled in. If Blind Enthusiasm took another run at Uncharted Citra with a more assertive hop presence, they may be onto something even better. I’d be eager to try it again, too.