Erik's Ale is a very limited release fruit flavored spontaneous fermentation ale from New Belgium Brewery. I was lucky enough to come across the only remaining keg of Erik's Ale in California at the Ol' Factory Cafe in Sand City a few nights ago.
Like a lot of people, I remember the first time I had Fat Tire, when it was a delicious and flavorful beer. Like many of us, I have become slowly resigned to the fact that New Belgium shamelessly sold out on its vast marketability. But it must be said that they've not squandered their riches. In addition to becoming the first self-powered brewery blah blah blah, the New Belgians have used the capital (monetary and otherwise) to undertake some pretty exciting experiments, of which Erik's Ale is the most successful so far.
Erik's Ale pours from the keg an unfiltered foggy golden, with a solid head that deflates quickly and evenly. I wanted to wait for it to warm up a bit and tried to pass the time with my nose in the glass: white winey and cidery fruit esters were not unexpected, but what surprised me was that the peaches were very muted, and the brettanomyces too. My first sip, too cold, was sharp and sour but not as dry as traditional lambic or geueze. The peach juice hits the front of your tongue sweet, but only for the briefest moment and until the rest of your mouth is coated and the tartness takes over.
As it warms to serving temp, the peach starts to assert itself both in the nose and the mouth - but thankfully never as a sweetener. In fact, the peach is a great if understated flavor and does a lot to balance the heavy-handedness of the sour ale; it keeps the beer from drying out your palate halfway through. This was its best moment, and while Erik's Ale is never an epiphany, New Belgium does seem to have experienced a revelation long overdue in this country: That an over-the-top beer need not be foisted on ingenuous American beer-drinkers as "Imperial," "Double," or "American-Style" when in fact it is simply poorly balanced, or worse, just plain bad. It is not a skillful effort with the honed sensibility of experience, but in Erik's Ale New Belgium achieved the same feat I imagine relieved a Belgian brewer some centuries ago after, at his wit's end, he stuffed some leftover fruit into a barrel of beer gone bad.
As it nears room temp the peach moves closer to the center of the flavor profile. Unfortunately, it is too shallow and without strong sourness and carbonation in a supporting role it flattens into a thin, canned flavor that is tough on the back of the throat. This flavor, characteristic of the super-sweet syrup supplemented pseudo sours, was always Erik's Ale's easiest pitfall, and it was gratifying not to reach it until the very end.
Now, let's be clear about this: I was not hopeful. Erik's Ale is La Folie with peach juice, and La Folie is exactly what it says it is - a long shot on the part of the New Belgians (and kudos for the effort) that likely introduced at least seven or eight people with unshakable faith in the brewery to sour ale, but it will not find a place alongside the Cuvee Lou Pepe any time soon. I expected Erik's Ale to be poorly balanced, with too much sour funk from old La Folie and too much syrupy sweet from the peach juice, and not enough beer in the middle. In fact, Erik's Ale is a brave effort by great moderates of the American beer community.
