To me, “American Strong Ale” is more a vibe than an official style - I think of it a big American IPA with the maltiness of an English ale. Something like Stone’s Arrogant Bastard would be towards the lower end at 7.2 percent ABV, while some versions push up into barleywine territory. So when I first looked at Sunday Road’s American Strong Ale and saw that it was 6.5 percent, my brain decided to read it as “American Strong Pale” for the first few minutes. Since this beer’s both at the lower ABV end and the lower colour end for an American strong ale, that name probably works just fine as well.
What matters is that it’s an old school US hop bomb, with Centennial and Cascade hops bringing blasts of grapefruit peel, bitey resin and earthy bitterness. Of course, it’s not 2015 any more; this beer’s dry-hopped in a way IPAs weren’t back then, and there’s some Idaho 7 and Citra keeping the hop profile more familiar and less abrasive for anyone who wasn’t around for the IBU Wars of the 2010s.*
Between the name, the label design, and the hop lineup, you can’t help but notice this beer is ‘Merican as apple pie and Dolly Parton - apart from being made by an Australian brewery, of course. But if you try to guzzle this form one of those big red plastic cups, you’ll be coughing up bald eagles for a week.
The Strawberry & Rhubarb Imperial Sour takes the opposite approach, tempting you to drink up even though it’s higher in alcohol. There’s nothing confronting here; I mean, yes, it’s a sour, but as I often find with imperial sours, that extra sweetness is a velvet glove that softens the pucker punch.
To me, this beer has a very distinct impression of strawberry clouds. You know the ones: pinky-red gummi lollies, soft and spongey, coated in sour sugar, stain your tongue red. And your lips. And your fingers. When I was a kid, they were 5 cents each at the convenience store, and I used to get them at every opportunity. I still remember the day they went up 10 cents each. A tough time for kids living off pocket money.
Anyway, this beer tastes just like them. Sure, it’s maybe less sugary and more tart, but it’s really not far off. I guess that rhubarb earthiness sets it apart a bit, as too does the bitter finish.
Okay so maybe the strawberry lolly thing is clouding my judgment,** because it’s latching onto my nostalgia and refusing let go. Does the fact that my 36th birthday is coming up play into this? Is my subconscious trying to keep me from musing on the ever-accelerating passage of time, the loss of youth and innocence, the slow but steady decline of my body and the ever increasing awareness of my impending death?
Nah look it really does taste a lot like strawberry clouds.
Mick Wust
* We lost a lot of good palates in those years.
** Pun intended? Pun not intended? I don’t even know any more.
Published October 2, 2024 2024-10-02 00:00:00
