Deviously non-conformist ‘fall celebration’ better defined as adjunct red ale rather than marzen-styled castoff. Dewy meadow waft, resinous earthen mouthfeel and honeyed tea tonguing deepen caramelized rye sweetness above tingly ginger-cardamom spicing. Recessive purple grape, orange mist and lemon zest nuances plus tertiary toasted nuttiness nearly confound excessive flavor profile.
Despite generic white-labeled bottle, well-rounded medium body boasts an abundance of flavors. Mild grassy hopped bittering, wafting floral bouquet, and earthen wood-dried resin glazed by tropical grapefruit-peeled pineapple, peach, honeydew, strawberry and pear fruiting as well as citric clementine, naval orange, mandarin orange and tangerine tang. Honeyed toffee malts settle below to further sweeten abundant up-front fruited confluence. Hopheads unite for Pliny The Elder’s East Coast rival.
Because of its virtuous Imperial status, adventurous limited edition ruby-crimsoned full body is easily one of the best red ales marketed. Piney IPA fruiting leads the way above caramel-roasted pecan-pied almond toasting. Red grapefruit, cherry, apple, orange and melon juiciness provides tangy up-front sweetness reinforced by ripe prune-raisin-fig conflux and brown-sugared spices.
Ruinous astringent acridity envelops indistinct crisp-watered copper-browned autumn seasonal too solvent for scattered flavor profile to overcome. Soapy brown-sugared molasses entry fades to phenol nutmeg-cinnamon-allspice-clove spicing and slackened prune-dried raisin-fig dalliance. Earthen bottom picks up nut-skinned pumpkin, squash and sweet potato nuances. On tap at Shepherd & Knucklehead, blander 2012 version scattered musty earthen soiling across lemon-soured gourd spicing, dissipated caramel malting and teasing butternut buttress. Advertised molasses sapping apprehended by watery orange-dried finish.
Perfectly straightforward sunset-hazed medium body stays crisply hop fruited. Piney grapefruit-peeled bittering glazes perfumed peach, pear, orange, and apple illusions atop sugary caramelized vanilla malting. Boozy juniper-ginned bitterness tags briskly resonating juicy-fruited finish.
OXFORD, CONNECTICUT
A respected 23-year military combat veteran in the 2nd armored cavalry regiment, new-sprung brewmeister Michael Mc Creary developed a love for English ales while running a sales force over in Europe. And now he’s importing English barley and hops to create his own crisply approachable British styled elixirs under the banner of CAVALRY BREWING COMPANY (closed May ’11)
“My policy is to make Cavalry a veteran-owned and run operation,” Mc Creary informs me as I peruse his 3,000 square foot warehouse space in an industrial mall along the rolling countryside of rural Oxford, Connecticut. “Right now I have only one employee for sales and delivery, but I’m about to hire another one.”
Starting January 2010, it took the industrious entrepreneur four-and-a-half months to assemble equipment and then fill brew tanks. Since then, he has crafted four flagship and two seasonal ales. In order to get his beers to truly emulate specific British characteristics, Mc Creary treats the local water source in order to mirror the ‘hard water’ from the Midlands of England. And from the taste of each dry-bodied potion, I’d say he’s definitely on to something. Each selection seemed to identify with the rustic tree-lined foliage surrounding this clean-as-a-whistle central Connecticut brewery.
As Led Zeppelin’s chilling “Heartbreaker” plays in the background, I sampled Cavalry’s lightest offering, Dog Soldier Golden Ale from the tap. Modeled after an English session beer, its grassy Fuggle hop earthiness and dry lemony orange interlude mellowed into a light rye finish.
Next, Hatchplug Ale, a Classic English bitter named after a first lieutenant, seemed not far removed from an easygoing Extra Special Bitter, with its earthen leafy hops and barley-toasted cereal graining picking up alfalfa, whey and mushroom illusions (finishing drier than Dog Soldier).
Taking its moniker from a World War II brigade, Marauder I.P.A. maintained an easy flow as well, but its bark-dried oaken cedar parch and desiccated date-fig-prune conflux leaned towards a Classic English IPA style instead of a citric-pined American takeoff. Fuggle-hopped earthen peat soiling and minor nuttiness underscore this medium-bodied delight.
“The biggest pain in the ass is bottling,” Mc Creary confesses. “I’d rather do kegs any day of the week and service local bars.”
Presently, he turns out about 180 cases per week and the rest is kegged for consumption. After he runs back and forth getting one of the brew lines ready for boil, Mc Creary serves up an experimental concoction just filtered, transferred and carbonated the day before. X Limited Edition, a Nut Brown Ale, brought mild tea-leafed hop-toasted ESB-like bittering to refined peanut-shelled walnut-chestnut-butternut illusions, ancillary autumnal foliage, and tertiary citric licks.
The Eagles revitalized sneer “Already Gone” blares from the speakers as I slip into Cavalry’s darkest ale selections. Nomad Stout places roasted hops and black chocolate malts into a sedate black coffee setting, picking up hazelnut along the way.
“That’s probably my simplest recipe given to me by Steve Potts of Bull Lane Brewery. I use a highly attenuated, very aggressive yeast for that Dry Irish Stout.” he offers while the opening riffs of Derek & The Dominoes esteemed “Layla” takes us back to the Seventies. “I like the malt-y front end of my beers. And I like to get a little hop bite at the backend.”
Though not presently available on tap, Mc Creary’s best bottled offering may well be Big Wally Porter, a creamy caramel nutty medium body utilizing whole bean coffee and designated after an Iraqi commander. Peanut, hazelnut and Brazil nut crowd the hop-charred cocoa bittering and dark chocolate confections.
“We have a Cask Wednesday in the middle of each month. It’s a traditional cask beer and we usually get around 25 people for the $5 tasting tour,” Mc Creary concludes.
Check out the Beer Index for all bottled reviews. Also, 20 miles west of Oxford is Danbury’s Fairgrounds Wine & Spirits, featuring a large selection of microbrewed beers.
Bland autumnal fare suffers from washed-out gourd spicing and soapy pumpkin-seeded vegetal astringency. Negligible white wheat wallow and listless phenol spicing get in the way of barren brown-sugared cinnamon-nutmeg blip, getting lost in a sea of bubbly hop fizz.
Adequate adjunct brown ale celebrates brewers’ quarter-century mark. Soft-flowing bittersweet vanilla bean entry receives fudge-y milk chocolate embrace above ashen maple-sapped molasses impression. Hop-oiled walnut bittering recedes quickly alongside cocoa dried depletion, caramel-burnt toffee subsidy and wispy bourbon wining, finishing thinner and less creamy than anticipated. On tap at Amazing Grapes, better version featured molasses-sugared chocolate, toffee and vanilla creaming above sharp hop roast, picking up light hazelnut and cola nut influence. Modest fig-date-plum conflux fades away. Try in lieu of Neopolitan Ice Cream.
Mainstream Czech-styled session lager remains just a tad stronger than pale-bodied competition. Easygoing hop-toasted bread crusting and dewy rye persistence sedately affected by superfine sugar-glassed sweetness. Caramel nuttiness cannot overcome bland phenol spicing.
Vigorous Stone/ Troegs collaboration brings lusty dark chocolate richness to enthusiastic Scotch whiskey boozing, picking up ashen charcoal astringency for obsidian-hued dry-bodied milk stout. Ascending vanilla and coffee bean bittering overshadows restrained black cherry-pureed blackberry-blueberry-elderberry dried fruiting. Luscious bourbon easement seeps into bold mocha-bound affluence. Tertiary brandy-wined chocolate-caked cherry jubilee illusions float by. But its murky flavor profile crowds too many wandering adjuncts.
Accurately described as a ‘quasi pale ale,’ robust ESB-like dry body maintains approachable medium-bodied drinkability. Reedy molasses rye breading sops up peat-dried pumpernickel nuttiness and light Vienna-styled Munich malting. Clean eight-grain bread finish picks up tertiary sunflower seed, poppy, and whey illusions.
Acute alcohol burn embeds commencing lemon-peeled orange rind bitterness of invigorating gold-paled medium-to-full body. Tangy yellow grapefruit, mango, peach, pineapple and tangerine tropicalia gains prominence, as does sharply counteractive juniper berry bite. Zesty passion fruit sprinkled through tongue-tingling salt peppered carbolic fizz. Less piney than dryer West Coast-styled India Pale Ales, though some wood remnants underscore fruited frolic.