First, the Not So Awesome Brew…
Every month, a Not So Awesome Brew is featured as a baseline. After all, what is an Awesome Brew? Awesome compared to what? Compared to something like this:


Every month, a Not So Awesome Brew is featured as a baseline. After all, what is an Awesome Brew? Awesome compared to what? Compared to something like this:

Wow… where do I even begin with this… Ok, as you all probably have guessed, when I get prepared to do an Awesome Brews review, I typically know ahead of time what I’m going to run as the not-so-awesome brew as well as a fair selection of awesome ones. For this month, I decided the focus of my not-so-awesome wrath would be Genesee Cream Ale (more on that later) mostly because it was cheap, it is common, and it was purchasable as a single-can. More times than not, these mass produced beers end up being crappy from the use of cheap ingredients and the most economical methods they can employ to boost alcoholic content. I made a list of beers I regarded to be crappy when I started this format, but as of late, that list is growing pretty thin, aside from some extra-special ones I’m reserving for the right moment or just because the review would otherwise read like a monthly bash of yet another American adjunct lager. My other pickups for the month, of which there are several, I choose two to be featured as the awesome brews. Often, any random two will do, as most everything is better than the typical common beers available.
Well, one of those pickups was this stuff. My wife saw it and was like “Those are cute! They come in mason jars! You gotta get one for your review!! I think you should get ‘Red, White and Blueberry’!” Who am I to argue? It certainly looked interesting. It was in an odd part of the store where typically wine coolers can be found. It was listed as a “malt specialty beer”. Meh, why not I figured, maybe it’s not the awesomest of brews, but it’s certainly better than that can of Genesee Cream Ale, right? After all, I had Zima back in the day and that wasn’t thoroughly terrible. Maybe some flavoring to something like Zima would be pretty tasty. Refreshing even!
HOLY CRAP THIS STUFF IS BAD! Great America is pure hobo hooch – hell, I don’t think it’s even fit for hobos. OMG, first sip of this unnatural cobalt blue swill and I was wondering if I was going to go blind. It had that BAD alcohol taste; the kind that makes you question whether or not this was the “good-happy alcohol” that gets you drunk safely, or the “evil-poisonous alcohol” that puts you into a drunkenness coma and makes you blind. Chemical spill don’t even begin to describe this malt liqueur monstrosity. The smell was pure synthetic chemical, like what you caught whiffs of in high-school chem class. It was syrupy, like they melted down Popsicle to make it. It’s labeled as blueberry, but I can’t even taste bad synthetic blueberry flavoring. A few more sips and I almost wanted to wretch. I told myself “maybe it’ll get easier as I get used to it”. It didn’t. I took some gulps with eyes closed tightly, and realized I was barely finished with the first quarter of it. My wife watching me the whole time says “I had a sip, I didn’t think it’s THAT bad, I think you’re overreacting”. At that point, I was ready to pour it down the toilet.
I smiled at her and handed her the mug and said, “Here, I’ll just write up your review of it…” Seriously, the Malört was far more enjoyable and I would happily drink it over this stuff. I seriously felt like I was poisoning myself. My wife pushed on for about another quarter of the way through before it got to her too and we ended up dumping it down the drain. Just like our President elect, Great America won’t make America Great Again, it’ll just bring out the worst in people and alcohol. I bet your wondering what I’m going to say for my closing statement and serving suggestion, don’t you dear readers? Well here it is, don’t serve… ever. Period.

As I mentioned above, Genny Cream Ale was one of the very first beers I ever tried. I know this because my father drank it for a time as well as some of the guys on the shooting team we belonged to. I probably didn’t react too well to it back then, since I was new to alcohol in general, and beer is, after all, an acquired taste. I never heard anything actually “bad” about the stuff, even from beer snobs, so I didn’t know how hard or easy I was going to be on it for my review as the “not-so-awesome” brew. I always considered it an “old man’s beer“, because I only ever saw old men drinking it. As the first beer I actually drank for this month’s review, it was actually quite pleasant. In fact, it was downright tasty. I knew I was actually going to have a hard time dissing it and was wondering if I shouldn’t run out to the gas station for something more sure-shot bad for this month.
Then I had the Great America which came to my rescue – probably it’s only redeeming feature. So for my first Awesome Brew of November 2016, I’d like to congratulate Genesee Cream Ale. Genesee Cream Ale is not a complex beer. It was neither too bitter nor sweet, and lacks the old-corny taste found in most adjunct lagers. It was almost buttery smooth. It was an easy drinker and went down clean, and I very much enjoyed the can I had. If I hit up a dive bar with nothing but typical American lagers on draft, this stuff would be on my list. The head on this brew was magnificent, like a rootbeer float. It dissipated fast enough not be annoying though. It’s a daily-drinker, and Genesee Brewing Company certainly made a winner. You could probably drink this stuff warmer than most beers but I drank it ice-cold. It’s a great afternoon beer, and after the Great American, I really can’t praise this beer enough. Serve cold after a hard day of work with a homemade burger or meatloaf and a copy of Pork Chop Hill.

I honestly didn’t know how I got lucky enough to have scored this one. It was on one of the international shelves at Red, Wine and Brew, where they typically stock always-available international beers. Special one-offs are usually kept up front with larger than average pricetags; especially if they’re foreign. What’s more, this stuff has apparently been sitting quietly for the last three years. Going to Brasserie De La Pleine Lune’s website doesn’t have any indication this beer ever existed, but like some other small breweries, they seem to be more interested in making awesome brews than maintaining a website. Even Beeradvocate’s listing is somewhat wrong, giving the wrong ABV and classifying it as an American IPA, which it isn’t. It’s an IPA but there’s nothing American about it, and not just because it was brewed in France.
France, to put it bluntly, isn’t the first nation on this planet to come to mind when you say the word “beer”. Hell, they’re most likely not on the first page of nations listed in order in 8pt font that come to mind when you think “beer”. I’ve learned though, that even in a country dominated by the wine industry, there are some bold, fearless Frenchmen who, like their fierce ancestors who resisted the Nazi’s in World War 2, flip convention the big middle finger and make alcohol from grain instead of from grapes. They do this, and they tend to do it well. American IPAs are essentially, IPAs that tend to fall on one extreme of the IPA spectrum. They’re typically extremely, overly hoppy, bitter affairs with a lot of overpowering flavor. They’re a favorite of beer snobs everywhere because of their strong flavor, first-choice among microbrews and varied flavors. Super Nova is more like a traditional English IPA. It’s medium bodied and hoppy without punching you in the gut about it. It’s only slightly bitter, with the bulk of the bitterness mitigated by a faint sweet taste. I almost felt like I was drinking an Irish Red ale, because for an IPA, it was certainly mild, whether by choice, or from sitting around on a shelf for three years. It lost none of it’s carbonation during that time and poured with a fairly impressive head, though mediocre in comparison to the Genny Cream Ale. Super Nova was a smooth drinker and next time I head back to my favorite beer store, if there’s any more, I plan to buy it all out. It’s proof you don’t need to go to huge extremes to brew a really damned good IPA. Serve with Coquilles Saint-Jacques (because it’s nearing Christmas) or Blanquette de Veau while flipping off the wine in your wine-rack and a copy of Army of Shadows.
Some of the pictures taken for Awesome Brews were done by Diane Schuler of Schuler Photography