Boulevard Funky Pumpkin Ale Commercial Description:
“Our entry in the very popular pumpkin ale market is an eccentric one, with pumpkin flavor scarcely present, upstaged by cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg and ginger. A pleasant tartness prevails, with barrel aging providing a mellow roundness, and Brettanomyces putting the “unk” in Funky. ”
Our entry in the very popular ale market is an eccentric one…
Additions: Pumpkin, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, ginger
Boulevard Brewing Company
Missouri, United States
Style: Spiced Sour Ale
Like a transsexual in the whore house, this beer was quite a shock to me. I ordered Boulevard Funky Pumpkin Ale one crisp fall evening, last Friday night, and was greeted with quite the surprise. First of all, I don’t know what bartender in their right mind would carry this beer, because there is no chance on earth there is someone on this planet that enjoys this. Sour ale? I don’t claim to be a beer expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I had never heard of a sour ale before. But since trying this beer, I have noticed other sour ale offerings out in the world, waiting to trick the taster into purchasing. What a mistake.
So there I sat in the Cloverleaf Tavern in Caldwell, scanning the daily beer list for any pumpkin beers I had not yet tried, when it jumped out at me from the page. Boulevard Funky Pumpkin Ale? Sure! Sounds great!
Then the bottle comes. I pour it into the glass. There is nothing unusual about the pour. A crisp, golden color coats the pint glass. A whiff of the glass calls to mind the distant scent of piss, or cider, whichever is grosser (debatable).
And then the taste.
At first you try not to give a hearty heave, sending your sour mouth contents all over your girlfriend sitting across from you.
I can only compare the taste to that of vomit, but…cold vomit. Is there such a thing? Refrigerated vomit? I hope not.
Take a sip, hold it in your mouth, and feel the tartness draw saliva out of your tongue. It burns.
Needless to say, I made it about 1/4 of the way through this beer before throwing in the towel and ordering a Dogfish Head Punkin Ale, aka my savior.