Like most dudes, I love beer. Yet I'm not much of a connoisseur - that is to say, when I'm in the mood for a beer, even a mediocre one will make me happy. But sometimes it's worth it to dig a bit deeper, especially when you've got two buddies like Chris and Paul. These guys take their drink seriously, and when they plan out a voyage of beer-fueled self-discovery, you must go, no matter how far they are talking about driving.
If the thought of beer tasting in San Diego brings to mind images of windswept North County oceanside cliffs, then you are misled by false images. Think instead of the corporate order of business parks and miles of small suburban houses that, until recently, were valued at upwards of half a million dollars each. This suburban sprawl, while not as picturesque as your average wine country, is just another type of wilderness to navigate on your way to a malty, hoppy payoff.
First we stopped at Green Flash in Vista, pictured above. All three of us handled the $6 flight of 10 beers, beginning with a sensational Belgian-style Saison. Less than a week ago, Wonderwife ordered a competitor's Saison at Father's Office in Culver City, and I thought it tasted like the pink industrial hand soap most often found in McDonalds and rest stops. But the Green Flash version had nicely balanced bitter, citrus and floral notes, with no lingering sourness or sweetness. Admittedly, my dislike of sweet, heavy beers puts me in the minority of advanced drinkers, which became apparent while we plowed through their Imperial IPA, Double Stout, and Trippel Ale. I skipped the Barleywine entirely - it sounded too goth, plus I was already tipsy. The highlight by far was the West Coast IPA, and Chris and I split a case of it that was discounted 50% due to a slight underfilling by the bottling machine. Major score!
You will no doubt remember, dear readers, my suggestion that getting 'the tip' defines a successful tasting trip. While Chris and I were making our purchase, Paul was chatting up a self-described 'beer judge' who directed him to Ale Smith, our next stop. The Judge also filled his ears with stories of Ballast Point's Home Brew Mart, a mythic place near the Mexico border where an enclave of local brewmasters bring their private stashes and ladle the goods directly from the casks into your gullet.
Ale Smith's most refreshing brew was a nut brown ale, which was unfortunately not available in a bottle. That left us only one option, the growler, sported above by Paul. This is a half-gallon jug which is refillable, but only at the brewery where you first bought it - unless you have a much coveted growler cozy to obscure the bottle's label, but good luck finding one of those. Ale Smith's other standout brew was an unctuous chocolaty stout, which was ultimately too sweet for me. Paul tried to persuade me that this was not a beer for now, but rather for sipping in far off December, preferably in a cabin in front of a fire. I was unswayed.
The road to Ballast Point Brewery took us into what I will call "Deep San Diego." Finding this one is not for amateurs. Beware Nimitz Blvd., which is the DSD equivalent to the Bermuda Triangle, if I understand it correctly. Those who make it past will find themselves faced with an array of beers like this:
One distinguishing characteristic of DSD is the abundance of tweaker facial hair (once known as pro-wrestler facial hair). In the parking lot, one such lengthily-goatee'd gentleman jumped out of his Tercel with an empty growler and headed inside for a refill, no doubt to pair with the foot long subway sandwich in his passenger seat.
As promised, Ballast point was connected to the 'home brew mart,' an emporium of beer making equipment and raw materials - hops, malt, liquid yeast, solid yeast, etc, etc. And, if you notice on the bottom of the board we have the mystery homebrew du jour - another Saison! Also notice the lack of an IBU rating for this one - IBU meaning "international bitterness units." I find it a small comfort that while the world seems to agree on little else, the standard of bitterness is well established. The brew itself was pleasant enough, but sour - which set it apart from the sweetness of most of the other beers here. As I was sampling down the line, I heard one of the patrons telling the bartender that he had added black strap molasses to his latest batch and was hoping it would be ready for Christmas. "That sounds really good," was the encouraging reply. It was then that I realized everyone in the near vicinity was in near total agreement. Beer is good, making it yourself is even better. And no matter what the result, you've got some like-minded bros here.
I stumbled out of Ballast Point with two 22oz bottles of their perfectly balanced Black Marlin Porter, which has the deep bass notes you want in a dark beer but finishes crisp. From there, we started to make our way back North, stopping at Solana Beach and its magnificent Pizza Port. Of course, before eating my weight in pizza, I grabbed my board and ran down this incline to catch a few kind North County waves - in my opinion, the only thing in San Diego that's more tasty than the beer.
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