Supple CA

The most pious among us believe that if you pray long enough for something, you’re bound to get it. Well, if that’s the case, some sour-tongued beer geek in our neck of the woods has been prostrating up a storm, because last week we got word of three cases of Russian River’s ‘Supplication’ hitting a couple select L.A. stores. The limited release, 14-month barrel-aged, self-described “American wild ale” has churned up impressive praise from the webby scrutinizers. It helps that its name references the nondenominational past-time of groveling before God. Not being huge fans of Russian River, but also not wanting to miss tasting the hype, we grabbed two bottles: one to slurp now, and one to save for later.
To be frank, the tasting scenario was less seriously critical than normal. The bottle got popped around 4 pm on a 90-degree Friday afternoon — when just about any drivel will taste like the nectar of a bejeweled duke. But discerning or not, this beer has a pair of wine legs.

Russian River’s Supplication

Poured haphazardly into a glimmering German pilsner glass, the stuff came out amber and hazy with a huge, watery head of the kind of froth you wanna flick on someone’s nose like bubble bath suds. The glassware choice ruled, because all of the crazy carbonation traveled from the base of the glass to the surface in little unpredictable patterns, like shooting stars. That bubbly turbulence is thanks to a refermentation process allowed in the bottle, champagne styles. Despite being a brown ale, the nose was all watermelon Sour Patch kids, puckery smelling. The first hit to the tongue is sour cherries, not sweet like some, but dry — drier than fossilized wood. Then comes an even woodsier forest taste, like biting into oak bark, followed by what we can only describe as what would happen if you madly shook Angostura cocktail bitters into a lambic. Right at the end, the sour brew actually smooths out into a buttery, vanilla tannin-sy, roll-around-on-your-tongue sensation. Consider us converted, just don’t expect us to talk to a god about it.
Dairy Pairy: Petite Basque, bloomy sheep’s milk
Soundtrack: Comet’s On Fire’s “Pussy Foot the Duke”