Ballast Point’s Mango Even Keel
I wrote this right after daylight savings time started in the US and I am mad I haven’t posted it til now. Anyway, I hate daylight savings time. That fall back bullshit sucks. What's so good about getting tired an hour earlier? Nothing. That's what. And since drinking usually fixes my internal clock when I fly, I figured I'd try it with daylight savings time. That and I need to drink away the fact that I had to shop at Walmart today. It was between them and Best Buy and Walmart has beer. But then again Walmart didn't have the thing I needed so I have to go to Best Buy anyway. Not a fan of Best Buy either. But they're just so damn close to where I live and convenience is a factor.
Anyway, like I said, I need to wash away the day. How am I going to to do that? With a mango beer. Mango Even Keel to be exact. From Ballast Point. Now Ballast Point is in a weird place in the beer world. It's owned by a big beer owning company thing, but it isn't one of the like big crap ones. I think. I remember something about Corona. Or something. Fuck if I know. I am going to drink beer because drawing this out is killing my funky flow.
It smells like joy. And by joy I mean mangoes and tropical fruit style hops. Like you can definitely smell the hops in it, as you should since, you know, it's a session IPA and they are supposed to be more hoppier because they use less malt or something. But the hop taste is definitely second fiddle to the mango, which, again, I feel like it should be because the mango has top billing. And yes I choose to ignore the fact that mango session IPA makes more sense than session IPA mango when used to describe a beer. It is my choice to cherry pick facts that only confirm my biases. This is called confirmation bias. Because of course it it.
I like this a lot and let me tell you why. Mangoes are magical. Mic drop. Then pick up mic cuz I ain't done talkin' yet. This beer is pretty mango-y. And I like that. It's awesome. But the thing about mangoes is that they are crazy sweet. That one mango beer I drank that one time way back when was amazing. But then I had to shave my teeth. It was that sweet. This beer is mango forward, but it's cut with enough hops that the bitter and dry hops cut that sweetness. So rather than gag on super rich sweetness, you can drink a bunch of these. Which is awesome if you like the taste of beer but have poor impulse control. Not that the hops don't contribute in their own magical ways. There is some pineapple and spice in there that gives this a nice little tropical Caribbean flavor. I really want a rum punch right now.
Bad stuff is just standard IPA bad stuff. Blah blah blah bitter in the back of the throat. Blah blah blah oral sex joke. And the mango can make the bitter in the back of the throat be a little bit burny and maybe sort of sour. But I had a bad day today so bonus points for containing mango. Nothing will crush my dreams for this beer. And my dreams for this beer are for it to make me forget I was at Walmart. I hate Walmart.
I choose to drink this from the can, not for you, but for me. That is an empowerment exercise. I assume. But I did consciously grab the cans of this. I knew what this was. Anyway, moving on. Much hoppier from the can. Not complaining but I am complaining. They are juicy hops which is nice, so when the mango come in from behind it is riding the momentum of the pineapple-y hops, but it's like the mango is playing second fiddle to the hops. And again, mango has top billing. All and all it is still a pretty good beer, I just like it a bit better from the glass. The bad stuff is more of the same, but the not bad stuff is where this beer slightly disappoints me. Oh well.
You know how you can tell you're almost in the right place when you're drinking? When you laugh a little bit to hard at an old black lady saying “is that Becky with the good hair?” when trying to guess what the slang term “Becky” means and you realize that you're subtly racist (like the Avenue Q song says “everyone's a little bit racist, sometimes). But not so far that you have an existential crisis about it. When you hit the existential crisis, you have gone too far. Either way, I feel pretty okay. I'm not too too gassy and I have to poop but I get the feeling the two are unrelated. Not too full either. Good times.
I give this an 8.5. Mostly cuz as the night wore on it just sort of tasted like an IPA.