I picked up a six-pack of Sierra Nevada’s spring beer, Glissade last week. If there is one word I would use to describe Glissade, it would be basic. But that’s not a bad thing. It tastes like BEER. It’s has a perfect balance of hops and malt, just the right level of carbonation, a straw color, etc.
Remember that first illicit sip of beer you snuck on a summers day years ago? That strange flavor that was intriguing yet foreign? That’s Glissade. This is what I imagine the once great American beers tasted like before prohibition, before rice, before “Tastes great – less filling.”
I come from a family of non-drinkers. Maybe that explains my fascination (obsession?) with beer, wine, and spirits. However, in the summer, my father enjoyed a beer after he mowed the lawn. He always bought (in that strange shaped bottle). Once he let me try a sip.
So crack open a Glissade, pour it into a glass, and close your eyes. And then maybe listen to some John Cougar Mellencamp.