Glenwood Canyon Sunlight American Wheat

The mountains of Colorado harbor many niches, nooks and crannies, within which lie a bounty of hidden mines, towns and even the occasional bakery (Silver Plume). Glenwood Springs is not what you’d call a quaint mountain town, exactly, but it’s not a global tourism destination either. Home to a therapeutic hot springs, it sees its fair share of visitors, and those who do go get a chance to visit the local brewpub: Glenwood Canyon Brewing Company. It is by no means an infamous brewery, or a landmark in craft beer, but it provides better beer to a town with one foot still in the past, and that makes it all the more charming. My family and I ordered a sampler to get a well rounded taste of the offerings, and I came away reasonably impressed, considering my expectations. The American Wheat appeared early on in the sampler, providing a welcome therapy after the depressing efforts of the Glenwood Canyon Brewing Honey Lager. I’m doubtful that a wheat really belongs in a restaurant context. Wheat beers, whether Witbiers or American are exceptional by themselves, isolated, with the drinker’s palate dedicated entirely to the beer. The subtle spices and flavor configurations can only be appreciated without sauces, syrups and seasonings disturbing the precarious silence that a wheat beer demands. Perhaps a salad or a fish dish might be appropriate, but there are too few places at the dining table where a wheat beer can find the proper care and treatment it requires. This American wheat was actually a pre-prandial arrangement, but it’s still coupled to the restaurant that supports the next door brewery, no doubt spoiled by many diners who used it to wash down a rack of intensely flavored ribs. The Sunlight American wheat was a very golden yellow hue, with nary a floating particle in sight, nor any head to speak of. Still, vapor exuded from the half-dollar sized top, pleasant with hints of lemon, but countered by a Frankenstein skunk-flower blend that is more confusing than ill tasting. The taste ditches the bewildering aroma, glazing the tongue with a moderately sweet flavor of refined sugar and the slightest hint of coriander, besides the assumed generic wheatiness. If you can get past the confusing vapors, then you’ll find a solid American wheat with enough to please and no forays into the kinds of excess that harms many American wheats.