Grown men begged and cried out for more when the kegs were all tapped and gone. We got a mere thimble-full of the special seasonal brew before the night was out. I knew I needed a bottle of my very own. Mr. Doom and I cracked open the 22-ounce bottle recently and were very please with what we found inside.
It pours an warm orange color, with very little head (what head there is dissipates fast). Cinnamon, clove, orange peel and vanilla waft into our noses. Unlike some seasonal pumpkin ales, this beer has a squashy quality and natural sweetness to it. This is what I imagine the pumpkin juice in Harry Potter must taste like, instead of the apple juice baba they served us at the park. It tastes like baked pumpkin bread or pumpkin pie, but not pumpkin-flavored, just straight up baked pumpkin goodness.
Halloween and Thanksgiving are over, but this is a brew to be enjoyed throughout the cooler months. Just because the pumpkin already rotted, and the turkey is all gone, doesn't mean you can't enjoy some final sips of fall.
[
{
"name": "Ad - NativeInline - Injected",
"component": "12461396",
"insertPoint": "3",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "5"
},{
"name": "Real 1 Player (r2) - Inline",
"component": "12436357",
"insertPoint": "2/3",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "9"
}
]
During Creative Loafing's BeerFest, my partner in crime Mr. Doom and I were charged with the task of delivering Southern Tier brews to the masses. On tap were several different brews from Southern Tier, including a limited supply of their Pumking pumpkin ale. Our line was perpetually long, longer than most, and held steady well into the night.
