Avery Karma Ale

Brewed by Avery Brewing Company
Style: Belgian Ale
Boulder, Colorado USA

I never discuss beer, religion, or the Great Pumpkin. But if I did, I would say that any connection between a Belgian farmhouse ale and karma is hard to find. I am learning to base very little of a beer (or anything else for that matter) on its marketing. If I did, I’d be drinking a light beer and listening to an iPod. I enjoyed the beer, just wish I couldn’t read. Maybe if I have enough of them...

Bottle at Oliver Twist (Sthlm). American hops, some maltiness but sadly very little Belgian yeasts..

12 oz. bottle - pours clear and orange with no head; stale bread aromas and flavors comes off sweet and malty

The vague Western notion of Buddhism is part of a much greater and confused amalgam that sticks Buddha, Confucius, Daoism, chopsticks, General Tsao Chicken and Bruce Lee together. A few Western travelers may have enough know how to wade through the over played icons of Asia, but most, admittedly and expectedly, do not. So what’s the appeal to Karma? A very Southeast Asian style Buddha graces the cover, peaceful and tranquil. But I can’t help wonder how Avery’s Far East approach has any sort of meaning or allure to the beer. Well, a sip is all I need. After sampling Avery’s Karma I find myself desperately wishing for nothingness – a quick, one way trip to Nirvana. Heck, I’ll take Taos. Anywhere that’s not near the beer itself. Nevermind the creamy roseate color head, or the rustic bronze body. Pay no heed to the vibrant smells of apple juice, caramel and mixed nuts. All of this is meaningless. Zen. Zero. When you drink Karma the world vanishes. That’s because you are blinded by fear. Imagine a concoction made of wet paper towels, cardboard, a spoonful of hops and a heaping scoop of Golden Retriever. There you have it. That’s Karma. It is spiritually shattering. I am left feeling dejected, inconsolable, and afraid. This is not the hopeful, positive message China town’s across America have been peddling of the great epicene Buddha. This is trench water, corpulent and ghastly. Let it be known that thanks to the tenuous and ill gotten connection between this Avery butchery and a fine spiritual export, I have no ill will towards Buddha or Buddhism at all. Merely additional angst against Avery’s marketing department. This will take some serious meditation to shake off.

12-oz. Pours a gorgeous gleaming golden amber with scantest of visible white heads and no lace. Nasty sweat sock/foot funk on the nose, but at least it’s subdued. Body’s medium, carb is soft--barely palpable. A little bit of grass and candi sugar keeping that gym shoe company on the mid-palate. No finish. This one’s appeal is a bit elusive.

Bottle. Poured a brownish ruby color. Aroma is wheat and barley. Taste is kinda watery but ok.

Sampled at Avery. Pours a nice looking orange color. Aroma of wheat, potato bread, sourdough, and grapeskin (or rotting/sour grapes). Light bread flavor with a nice yeast character coming through along with some wood. Finishes dry and funky, and fairly light. Very drinkable, like an APA with a Belgian yeast. This isn’t meant to be a beer of strength, but it’s good "hotter season" lighter beer.

Has the yeast, spice and sweetness of a light Belgian aroma. Singel. Something of a stone fruit undercurrent. Poured clear amber with a humongous frothy white head that laced. A bit thin bodied. Floral hop. Fruity spice. Not as sugary as the dubbels or tripels. Not as alcoholic either. The finish is relatively dry, and it seems to leave hop bitter all over the mouth. Really good approach.