Posted by: Scott | January 14, 2010

Red Chair NWPA Review

I try to ensure a certain level of polish in my posts. I edit and re-edit my work, striving to make it readable without sacrificing eloquence. As a result, my beer reviews are usually as finely tuned as I can make them. But my inner nemesis, Drunk Scott — the tiny me who spends his days in an RV in the back of my brain cursing words like palate and dipsomania and bière de garde (Frenchies!!!) — he loves beer simply because “it tastes good,” and the only review he’ll write is a well-timed wall-shaker of a belch. Well, last week he and I had a “talk” (play along, I beg you), and I conceded that my review style doesn’t always represent the drinking process, which, regardless of the alcohol employed, usually aims to relax the drinker.

We compromised. For this review, I’m going to drink an entire six-pack (or however many it takes) of Deschutes’ Red Chair NWPA before writing a single word about it. Then, the next morning, I won’t edit it. This way, you’ll receive the real, drunken, in-the-moment truth about why I like or dislike this beer. Feedback is welcome; I don’t plan to drink myself silly for every review (because doing so would be unhealthy and irresponsible), but if this gets a positive response, I may start incorporating a bit more revelry into the rest of my writing.

Style: Pale Ale
ABV: 6.4%
IBU: 60
Calories: 192 per 12 oz
Glassware: Pint Glass, Mug, Stein
Serving Temp: 50° F
Price Range: $7 per 6-pack

Ready? Here I go.

6 beers later …


Author’s Notes from the Next Morning:

I think Drunk Scott was trying to be clever. Or he really passed out on the Z. Hard to say.

I found a scrap of paper crumpled up and scribbled on (and … spat on?) next to my desk. Apparently Drunk Scott attempted to keep tasting notes. His musings start off coherently: He describes the beer’s smell as “citrusy, like oranges, with hints of pine and flowers. Definite hops.” Not so bad.

Now the spelling errors begin. He writes this about the taste: “Hop bitterness isn’t overwhelming, lots of pine, like an Oregonian wildness contained wholely in your mouth.” I’m hoping he meant “wilderness.” Next he writes, “earthy too, like chewing on dirt, but good,” and, slightly farther down, “CHEWY CHEWY CHEWY.”

At the bottom he describes the mouthfeel as “not too light, not too heavy … this beer = poridge if Dorothy drank” (I think we can assume he meant Goldilocks) and gives it an overall evaluation of “that’sa hoppy meat-a-ball!” He finishes with, “PINE TREES YAAAY!”

Mom must be so proud. For the record, the beer was quite tasty — although probably not perfect-score tasty.

Monday: We’ll return to sanity by discussing beer as a breakfast drink! Wait …



  1. Great post! Quite a hilarious concept, and I’m glad the beer was tasty too.

    • Thanks! I’d definitely grab a bottle or six if you’re a fan of the style.

  2. Hahaha. Awesome.

    • 😀

  3. Mom is quite proud! And pleased that you stayed home and did the drinking in a responsible manner.

    • Of course!

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