Oh boy am I excited! Tonight I'm reviewing a beer that I've had in the back of my mind for a long time. Goose Island's Juliet is a beer that I had heard many great things about, but which I never seemed able to find. Today, in a stroke of pure luck, the good people at Hyde Park Wine & Spirits in Cincinnati just happened to get some in, as well as Juliet's sister beer Lolita. I'm excited for that beer too and will be reviewing it in the coming days.
Goose Island is a pretty big heavyweight in the brewing world. John Hall started the brewery as a brewpub in 1988 in Chicago, IL and expanded into a production brewery in the 1990s. He opened two brewery locations in Chicago and helped to define Midwestern beer culture. Goose Island is today available in an impressive 36 states and Europe. Last year, Goose Island lost its independence when it was purchased by Anheuser Busch-InBev, the beer conglomerate responsible for so many lackluster beers like Budwesier and Stella Artois. Now a wholly owned subsidiary, this was initially seen as a major blow to craft beer - just another instance of the big boys swallowing the competition. But what seems to be happening, at least for now, is that Goose Island is being left to their own devices to continue making beer their way while benefiting from the marketing campaigns and distribution resources of AB-InBev. This improved distribution is, in my opinion, the reason I was finally able to get my hands on Juliet (and Lolita). I also think that us beer geeks are benefiting from the AB-InBev distributors not being familiar with all these new beers they're selling. They're more concerned with selling product to retailers rather than carefully allocating each case so as to keep things fair among retailers and maximize hype. The end result is that places like Hyde Park Wine & Spirits that are willing to pay the high prices of premium beers like this can find themselves with sufficient quantities to support a far larger number of sales. While this is certainly less democratic, its a gold rush if you know where to shop for the good stuff. So for now, I am cautiously happy about Goose Island's merger with the enemy.
Juliet falls into a somewhat new category of American beer known as American Wild Ales. This still murkily demarcated style doesn't necessarily mean that the brewers used wild yeast, but they might have. A more proper but broader term to describe this style might be to simply call them sour ales. Yes, you heard right. Beers can be sour and sour can be good! This is a hip style in the beer world right now and draws a lot of attention from hardcore geeks and brewers looking to capitalize on the craze. I'll admit to as of yet not being a huge fan of sours, but they're growing on me even as they hurt my wallet (sours are invariably expensive). The reason this style is kind of murky is because American brewers have done something new with these beers. They trace their influence to the great sour ales of Belgium. The Belgian sour ale family includes such a multitude of styles that encompass so many brewing and aging techniques, blending processes, unusual ingredients, and wild or peculiar yeast and bacterial infections that I can't even begin to describe them here. Suffice it to say that these Belgian originals are endlessly creative and their American counterparts have built upon that creative legacy by adding their own twists, including barrel aging. The qualities that all sour ales will typically have in common is some level of sourness, moderate to high acidity, and tannin-like qualities similar to what one might find in wine. Speaking of, this style is the closest thing to wine in the beer world and a great sour ale would be a prime candidate for converting wine drinkers into beer drinkers. Just don't push conversion too hard; you don't want to seem snobby. After all, wine is supposed to be fun just like beer.
Juliet, in particular, is aged in cabarnet wine barrels with real blackberries after being fermented with wild yeasts (I'm guessing, before I even drink the beer, that they're using Brettanomyces bruxellensis, a popular funky yeast). The beer weighs in at 8% abv. Goose Island's website recommends it as a great beer for pinot noir drinkers. I'm interested to see what happens!
The bottle is very pretty, nicely adorned with an eye-catching yet understated off-white label that identifies the beer in purple cursive and also prominently displays the vintage, as if calling out to wine drinkers. Indeed, this beer is bottle-conditioned and sours are excellent candidates for aging, just like wine. After a moderate pour into my upright Libbey Poco Grande glass, I am left with a very beautiful, if somewhat delicate looking, rosy red beer whose excellent clarity shows off tinges of orange, red, and amber. The head is a pinkish white quarter inch of champagne-like bubbles that quickly dissipates to a razor thin ring. Among the more interesting beers I've seen in a while. Appearance: 14/15
Putting my nose in the glass is different for me. As I said, I'm not as well versed in sour ales as some other styles but I like what I smell. A wood tannin-like astringency greets me, backed by a pronounced fruity (blackberry?) note. A hearty swirl reveals some funky yeasty notes I recognize from some Brettanomyces-infused saisons. I definitely get oak, maybe some phenolic spice. But I like these spices; they seem inviting. They're not the nasty sort of band-aid phenols. There might be a trace of white vinegar in there, but this beer smells as appetizing as any sour I've encountered. Nose: 24/25
Oh wow, no wonder they said this was a good choice for pinot noir drinkers. Huge flavors of dark fruit, more assertively blackberry than in the nose, express themselves wrapped around a huge oak tree. These big oak flavors dance nicely with a great red wine-esque tannin character. The beer is unmistakably tart and this might repel some beer drinkers. But the tartness isn't offensive and even suggests the kind of tart one might find in a breezy red wine. The beer is off-dry, neither dry enough to pucker my lips nor sweet enough to cause cavities. The sugars are beautifully attenuated and leave me with a superbly balanced flavor profile that transitions and offers new flavors as it moves down my tongue and hits my throat. Upon further tasting, the tartness is beginning to become a little puckering, more dominant than I initially realized. This isn't bad, just different from my original impression. There's also definitely some light spice in there but I can't put my finger on it. Cloves? Cardamom? I also get some citrus buried in there, is that tangerine? Palate: 48/50
The mouthfeel might be my favorite thing about this beer, even though I thought the rest was pretty damn good. Spritzy, tingly carbonation dances across your tongue. A medium body lends enough weight to support the array of flavors. Finishes clean with a bone dry swallow, dry enough to bring you back for more. Mouthfeel: 10/10
OVERALL: 96/100
Yep. I love this beer. The wait has been worth it. This was one of those pivotal, trans-formative beers for me. It is my favorite sour ale (Sorry, La Folie. You had a good run.) and has helped me cross the threshold into truly loving sour ales, perhaps my last great frontier among beer styles. I thoroughly recommend this beer to all red wine drinkers and adventurous beer lovers like me. I love pairing beer with food and this beauty will work wonders with all kinds of stuff. The bar has been set very high for when I crack open Lolita. Cheers!
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