I believe the Pale Ale standard was set back around 1990 (like so much local rock music) by Sierra Nevada‘s now-classic green label offering. So it’s with a mix of skepticism and excitement that I greet any new Pale—even those originating in the beervana that is the PNW. Append Pyramid Brewing Co.’s name to the style and I’m even more divided.
The Seattle-born macro-micro has done IPA, Hefeweizen, and apri-hefe amazingly well for years—setting standards of its own—but its other labels, especially seasonals, are either less memorable or short-lived. (Curve Ball was once a Kolsch; Coastline died; Broken Rake died; etc.) So, Pyramid’s new spring brew, Fling Pale Ale?
Sounds like an advertisement of its tightrope existence.
The press release claims, amid its loquacious superlatives, “a big, fresh hop nose followed by the perfect blend of malt sweetness and hop bitterness.” And hey, it nails the latter half. I didn’t detect much of any aroma after popping an advance bottle, but Fling does piggyback a very nice, crisp hop bite on an initially, briefly, sweet flavor. The first few swallows didn’t do much for me, but a lingering, tongue-coating bitterness grew stronger with each (modest) gulp.
The PR people have an intriguing explanation: “Fling is punctuated with a slightly hoppy bite thanks to an experimental Cascade/Fuggle hybrid hop, as well as Nugget and Willamette hops.” My expertise ends at “hybrid,” honestly, but my mouth says their experiment (code name: XP-04188) has resulted in something swell. If I didn’t know better, I might think this beer was a lesser (36 IBU) IPA.
They say Fling sports “medium body” and “a beautiful golden orange color.” And in this case, they’re accurate with both claims. It is pretty, but a little flimsy, in the glass—looking more like Bud Light than boutique Pale. No head whatsoever. So the slow build of 5.2% ABV body belies Fling’s instantly clean mouthfeel; after the glass is empty, a pleasant, dry hop bitterness remains.
I have to admit, my disappointment with Pyramid’s new brew—available in six- and twelve- packs, 22oz bombers, and on Brewhouse tap February through March—is that it won’t be around for beer garden/baseball season. Or the rest of the year. Tastes more like a quality staple offering than a special (high ABV, special ingredients, whatever) release to me.
Here’s to Fling having a longer shelf life than previous Pyramid seasonals.
I thought Broken Rake was gross. I’ll try Fling, but like you, I’m skeptical.
And *all* of their labels are really fucking ugly. That alone deters me from buying their beers half the time.
Funny, I’d initially included the word “fugly” in reference to the new art. Totally agree with you, Jack. Goes hand in hand with choosing to qualify the Apricot with “Audacious.” Ugh.