The Other Pint: Full Moon, a Belgian White Ale from Mudshark’s

Last May, my wife and I wanted to get out of town for our anniversary.  Flagstaff was our intended destination but it was 35 degrees and we didn’t want the cold.  So we went to our second choice and ended up at Mudshark Brewing in Lake Havasu City. 

It ended up being a nice day.  We sat on the patio at Mudshark’s, enjoyed the day, talked for a while, and had some great food and great beer.  If you ever stop by in the summer, don’t miss their Classic Caesar salad; it is absolutely refreshing.  Yet, if you desire something unique, order the Arizona Sunburst.  It’s as tasty as it is enticing.

Sitting on the patio on that perfectly clear day I was reminded why I love the desert.  Ten out of twelve months are perfect to sit and enjoy your best friend’s company and a pint of superb beer.  The best beer in the house is Full Moon, their Belgian White ale.   I drank it that day and revisited it recently.

Full Moon pours a murky yellow orange.  It’s an unfiltered wheat beer, so the cloudiness is expected.  Plus, the murkiness lends a milky, or white, character to the appearance.  It comes replete with a billowy head that erupts right away and falls back into the beer quickly.  It generally lasts in the glass. 

It smells like an citrus cologne.  All right, not that powerful, but the orange fruitiness is apparent.  It’s a wonderful aromatic blend of spice and fruit, a dance of sweetness and tartness. 

The dance continues in the taste.  It’s a medium bodied beer that does a nice jig all over the tongue.  It’s a creamy, zesty, smooth libation with no perceivable hops presence.  Maybe that’s why I like it so much.  I’m really tired of the hops craze of the West.  This beer doesn’t have it, that’s for sure.  It has a wonderful sweetness that hits the tongue right away – not a malt sweetness, a sugar sweetness combined with the orange peel. 

Wheat beers are perfect for the desert.  Full Moon is a perfect wheat beer in my opinion.  It’s always the first beer I grab when I visit Mudshark’s.  And I try to make it my last as I wander out the doors.

May the Thwart Be With You

A good book suggestion had been presented to me this weekend.  I thought about it and thought about and thought about it and decided that it was something worth pursuing.  By Sunday night, I was ready to plunge head first into the rapids of research.  Someone else felt it was a good idea, however.  Behold, Mr. Ed Sipos already works on the project.  A history of brewing in Arizona.

Well, I hope he is successful.  I will be certain to pick up the book.

Ah, the sweet joy of being thwarted.   I suppose I could work on a book of this nature anyway.  I mean, isn’t there supposed to be various ways to tell the same story?  My angle, my “voice,” as it were, should be unique, right?  I don’t know if I believe that either.

So, then, obviously I need to: 1) toss my hands in the air in a universal gesture of defeat and toss back a few hefty homebrews; 2) pursue research in the “beer in Arizona” arena and see what else pops up; or, 3) burn my truck.

It’s gonna take me a bit to decide.