Hello old friend, it’s good to see you again. I noticed your 13th birthday is around the corner in April. It’s great to be able to celebrate your birth on tax day, something to celebrate on a day many bemoan. Or seek an extension. Or spend decades trying to evade paying. But hey! ‘Tis the season to prosecute treason. So maybe on your 13th we’ll have more good news about democracy. Maybe we’ll prosecute the folks who haven’t paid taxes since Rosalynn Carter lived in the White House… or maybe not!
I noticed a difference in you. Your design is sleeker. The “DC” in DC Brau is much bigger. The Capitol building is larger and your crown of barley spikelets and hops which once came below your dome have disappeared. But fret not! For their essence is still in you, Public Pale Ale.
One point of pride comes above your name, “Proudly crafted in the District” and we couldn’t be prouder of you. For a beer that’s now changed, one thing that never has is the location of your production; a beer that both Washington and DC could feel pride for. It’s been a wild 13 years, and some of the places we used to enjoy you, from Bohemian Caverns to Meridian Pint have closed. In fact, the last time we noted a change at DC Beer, you were on draft at the late Fado Irish Pub.
While it is a massive bummer that we can’t drink you in the spaces that have closed, your ubiquity around town is a brite hoppy bump to the beer culture that remains in DC. These closings remind us and serve us well remembering how things used to be. While your creators had planned a launch with a soft landing in 2011, on that tax day, April 15, the line to get into Meridian Pint was around the block. The plan was to order seven kegs for the bar and those kegs were delivered. But on the day you were born, the public demanded more Public. And so 8 more kegs were delivered later that day, and you wound up serving the public 15 kegs that Friday. You were so popular as you were yeeted out into the universe that the public drank you dry in one day when your 15 kegs were allocated to last all weekend.
So what do I make of the changes? You seem smaller, from an alcohol by volume perspective, but yet somehow brighter, and with a more pronounced hop character. There is your old self still there with that classic candied grapefruit aroma. You’re still dank, if not more so now, your notes of hibiscus and overripe stone fruit pleasantly prick make my nose. Floral notes of sunflower and daffodil rise out of the pokal I’ve poured you into. Your bright aroma is delicious with flecks of sweetness reminiscent of the way a honeysuckle flower smells.
Getting into Public, there is a graham cracker sweetness but with a nice firm bitterness that seems to be shaking hands or giving a hug to the classically aromatic candied grapefruit notes.
Fine bubbles and a persistent carbonation lift the tiny bubbles, dancing up from the bottom of the glass and provide scaffolding for a pale white cap atop the beer.
It is hard to tell if the beer is paler in color, and part of the reason is because the beer is so clear. Clarity can of course make a beer appear paler. Rocky white foam sits atop Public, paler than gold, but certainly lighter than amber.
All in all, Public, you’re very pleasantly easy drinking. You’re sweet upfront, medium bodied in the mid pallet, and you possess a quick crisp brisk finish after the sip you are left wanting more in the sessionability of the Public pale ale is at maximum strength.
It remains a strong choice to pair with cuisine. Last week I paired it with a riff on Stephanie Grant’s red rice, with a can I picked up from the Craft Beer Cellar. The next day we made our way to Sloppy Mama’s BBQ, there a can of Public paired well with brisket, greens, beans, and cornbread.
So welcome back, old friend with a new taste. It’s nice to have you here.
