Back to the blog and rolling along with bock season! Thank you so much for bearing with me while I took February off; between our baby, Michelle working hard on a new project, and a new job I'm still settling into, it's getting tough to find space to write about beer. Taking February was the right call for me. 

Today, we're hitting the ground running on this cold yet still spring-like late-winter day with a beer that perfectly encapsulates the changing seasons, a style I eagerly anticipate the whole winter long. That's right; we're doing a bock.

I'll say here that I only have two bocks slated for review this month. A stroll through the shelves at my local bottle shop this afternoon showed that breweries are more focused on fad-like brews (which isn't a dig--I love fad beers!) than sticking with this tried and true seasonal. Luckily, one of the breweries adhering to this malty tradition is MadTree, who canned Guten Bock this year. Let's get to it.

This is a post I've been sitting on writing for a long time. I first had Genesee Spring Bock (then just "Bock Beer," a spring seasonal) back in 2018. Since then, I've had plans on writing about it during some springtime on the blog. Each year since, I've consumed my final can of the stuff before getting around to blogging it.

Here in 2021, however, I decided that ought to finally change. I stuck a can from my 12-pack in the back of my fridge for safe keeping. You might think I've forgotten about it--that's not the case. While I had planned to write this in late-March, time quickly got away from me. Now, just as it's almost no longer relevant for this year, I'm finally able to sit down and tell you about Spring Bock.

Can you believe that it's been nearly six months since I've discussed a cider on the blog? Truth be told, I haven't had much cider (apart from some homebrew) in that time. Now that spring's sprung and I'm looking forward to blossoms adorning my apple trees (hopefully they finally fruit this year), I have cider on my mind.

Luckily Rhinegeist's Cidergeist brand seems to have just the thing for me in Bloom, a cider bursting with springtime-inspired floral notes. Let's see how it's drinking on this fine Easter Sunday.

This is weird. I know that different parts of the world are in different places right now. Hell, different parts of the US are in different places right now. Ohio, as you may have heard, is in rapid shutdown mode: Bars and restaurants now close at 9 each night and are only open for carryout/delivery; bowling alleys, gyms, and theaters won't be allowed to open after today; places of employment that are still open in some capacity and haven't been ordered to close by the governor are racing to figure out how to deal with what's coming next. The rest of the world (at least those parts still in the beginning stages of the COVID-19 pandemic) will most likely be mirroring my state's actions in the coming weeks. I literally have no idea what tomorrow'll bring. We're in uncharted waters. Wash your hands.


Okay, I guess that was a bit of a lie. See, I do know something that tomorrow'll bring: peepers, the harbingers of springtime. I know that peepers are pretty divisive critters, much like summer's cicadas. But, much like with cicadas, I really enjoy the peepers' music--it's a nice, nightly reminder that winter's on its way out and warmer, brighter days are ahead.

When I saw that Maine Beer Company had a beer called Peeper, I knew it'd be my post to shepard in spring. Today, while Michelle and I were out provision hunting (to little avail--what a time to actually need toilet paper), we swung into the bottleshop where, less than a week ago, they had plenty of Peeper bottles. To my dismay (and luck) there was just one left today. I bought and, well, here we are.

Memorial Day, as I heard on the news once in high school, is the start of summer. Is it the official start of it? No, not quite--that's still nearly a month off. But still, with all the cookouts and people heading to beaches today, summer might as well be here.

I don't know about you, but I have had an incredibly productive Sunday. I woke up around 7:30 and went for a nice, long run. I started working on the final paper for the last of my summer courses. I took a break from that to head to the bookstore to buy the new Harry Potter book (that was around 2). I came back, ate lunch, and continued to work on my paper. Once I reached the 20% mark, I set it aside. Don't laugh--at a whopping total required length of 20 pages, 20% in one day is pretty commendable.

Man, after a day like today I wish I had a fire pit. Right about now I'd be piling wood onto it in preparation for a killer bonfire. I'd roast weenies, drink beer, and, for dessert, make s'mores. Do you know what I don't have? A fire pit. It's a perfectly fine summer day in a season that's been chock-full of perfectly fine summer days. Yet, I haven't had the chance to enjoy a single s'more. While, technically, Saranac's S'more Porter will not change that, here's hoping it gives me the whole s'more experience in a beer form!

Good news, folks. It's looks the hypothesis I made in my last post actually came to pass: Winter has hidden it's hideous face from the world until the end of the year. It's very obviously springtime here in south-western Ohio. My windows are open, the birds without them are singing, and I've started to notice people outside exercising with greater frequency.


How am I choosing to celebrate the changing of the seasonal guard? With a limited Woodchuck cider that was in production nearly a year ago. Regardless of its age and current availability (I shouldn't have been able find it) I think this cider is a great choice for weather like this.

Before I start talking about today's beer, please allow my to explain my month-plus long absence: I've been sick. Really, really sick. My illness took away some of my sense of taste and the majority of my sense of smell, and I need both of these to be in working order to fully experience a brew. Now that I'm on the mend my nose and tastebuds are starting to shape up enough for me to tell you about Blue Moon's early-spring offering.


This beer has been siting in my fridge for over a month awaiting my review. After I wrote about Sam Adam's Cold Snap (a post in which I mentioned Fist Peach Ale) a friend of mine informed me that he prefers First Peach and that he believed I would, too. It's not a bad beer, I'll give it that.

First Peach's packaging touts that it has "...notes of peach and coriander" (yet again, I don't know what coriander actually tastes like because I've only ever encountered it layered under other flavors in spring-time releases). The brew's profile on Blue Moon's website (heavily) implies that it's a fusion of a traditional Belgian-style sour brown ale and a peach wheat ale from the good ol' US of A.

I've never encountered a peach wheat ale--nor have I ever seen one--so I cannot speak to their flavor or overall goodness. In fact, this is only the second peach-infused brew I've had (the other one is a go-to Christmas brew of mine that I'll write about in late-November or December this year).

However, having said that, I am incredibly fond of peaches in and of themselves. I tell you this so you'll hopefully understand the gravity of what I'm about to type. The peachy taste of this ale is far more that prominent; it's overpowering.

From the scent to the taste, all I get is peach. Which isn't necessarily bad (especially if you like peaches and things reminiscent of peaches) but it may not be your thing (I'm guessing it isn't Purrl's because she gave it one measly sniff before turning away and refusing to pose next to the bottle for a picture with her nose facing the beer).


If she, in fact, does not like peaches I understand her lack of sniffage; the aroma given off by the bottle is 100% peach. Speaking from a purely taste perspective, this is a beer that doesn't taste like a beer: it's peach flavoring with a watery backing.

Mouthfeel-wise, it's pretty dang flat until you move to swallow it and it assaults the inside of your cheeks with bubbles. It's a really odd sensation to go from nothing to something like that and, I have to say, it's really cool.

When I was sixteen I worked as a lifeguard at my town's community pool. Being out under the hot sun all day meant, aside from the fact that I had a kickass tan, I had an obvious need to stay hydrated. The pool met that need by supplying us lifeguards with bottles upon bottles of water. They also gave us an assortment flavor packets to mix into the water. Among the available packets my favorite was peach tea. That's almost the exact flavor offered by this brew.

Near the beginning of this post I said that this isn't a bad beer and I stand by that (I also stand by my "it doesn't taste like a beer" statement. Take that as you will). I wish it was stronger for what it is (the 5.6% ABV doesn't quite do it for me) but that's neither here nor there. Since I like peaches and things that taste like peaches, I'm giving Blue Moon's First Peach Ale a 7.0/10. If this sounds like it's something that'd be up your alley, give it a shot! Because of the oddness of Fist Peach, it's really a beer that you ought to try for yourself. I just hope you like it more that Purrl does.

(My numeric rating for this beer is, as it always will be, located at the bottom of this post.)