Archiving more beer writings: "Don't Fear the Peppers"

I can remember it like yesterday, being a wee lass sitting at a pizza shop preparing to put salt on my pizza (please don’t judge me). It never occurred to me that both sugar and salt could be placed neatly together on a table at a pizza shop. You can imagine my surprise when I took a bite out of my pizza and the sweet taste of processed sugar hit the sides of my tongue. It was an effective way for me to stop salting my pizza for several years.

The same type of situation took place at the beer store the night before Wingbowl (Philly’s excuse to drink beer at 5 am on a Friday while fat men gorge on hot wings while strippers cheer them on). I’d hopped out of the car and ran in with the hopes of grabbing a coffee stout for our 4 AM pre-gaming and a Rogue Red Ale to enjoy for the evening. Knowing what I wanted, I grabbed the red bottle and off I went without first admiring the bottle.

I was anxious to get down with this beer as Rouge’s Red Ale has been a favorite of mine this year. Opening the beer in the kitchen, I was hit with the surprising scent of… jalapeño peppers. Upon further inspection, I realized I had not in fact grabbed a Rogue Red but instead picked up a Rogue Chipotle Ale. Perhaps Rogue designed the bottle the same as the Red to trick people into purchasing the Chipotle Ale- Never mind the fact that the Red has yellow on the bottle and is not as similar to the Chipotle bottle design as I first thought.

Honestly, I would have never bought a bottle of Chipotle Ale on my own. I would maybe try a small taste it if it’s on tap at a bar, but that’s about it. But as I stood in the kitchen, with an open 22 ounce beer, I knew what I had to do.

It poured a clear golden copper color and the aroma of peppers ballooned around the glass. I nervously took a sip (I say nervous because I expected it to taste terrible) and was surprised that the hops came through the peppers and it was evident that I was in fact drinking a beer and not a glass of pepper juice. The 5% ABV made it an easy beer to drink. Slightly malty, slightly smoky. The finish, however, was all pepper.

The side of the bottle explains that you’re drinking a beer that has been “delicately spiced with smoked jalapeno peppers.” With “Chipotle” in the name of your beer, you expect it to punch you in the nose and have a knife fight in your throat. Rogue did pretty well keeping things “delicate” in the bottle and complex in your mouth.

It took half of the bottle for me to decide I like this beer. At first it was just weird to me. So weird that I had to continually sip it to comprehend what was happening to my senses. But as soon as the Mexican food arrived (we’d coincidentally ordered Mexican that night), Rogue Chipotle and I were friends. Unlike my traumatizing experience with the sugar on the pizza, Rogue has broken my apprehension of beer brewed with vegetables.