It’s a sticky mess.
That’s how Tim O’Meara describes the most important step in brewing his Honey Brown Ale. One slip and the rusty hued nectar coats his arms, drips over pristine stainless tanks and tacks itself everywhere.
“It’s not easy to pour,” he said of the local wildflower honey batched into the brew. “It is fun, though.”
Perhaps, though it’s more likely the fun starts when patrons raise a glass. A twist on O’Meara Bros. Brewing Company’s popular Bevins St. Brown Ale, the honeyed version presents a familiar creamy, mellow character similar to toasted cashews and then admits to a wilder, more primal nature.
The dissolute aspect is subtle — often fleeting — but it is persistent. Reflections of pumpernickel dotted with beeswax, dark honey bubbling in cast iron and a genteel contrast of fresh meadow flowers dart under the more traditional brown ale profile. It’s flavors taunt, withdrawing sweetness where expected, then dabbing it lightly.
It is a niftily balanced beer — dark and creamy, but not heavy. Laced with honey, yet hardly sweet. Bitter nips appear, but the product is so lightly hopped they blend back in to the toasted notes.
This particular batch of O’Meara’s Honey Brown Ale is a departure from earlier versions that relied on clover honey.
“The wildflower was a way to make it different,” he said. “It was amazing.”
O’Meara started with the base recipe for his Bevins St. Brown, but introduced more caramel malts into the mixture. He then dolloped in honey, of course. And he alludes to a secret ingredient — a mistake in a recipe many years ago that somehow made his brown ale peal.
But the local wildflower honey truly makes this beer stand out. In fact, O’Meara is now considering alternating the Honey Brown Ale with the Bevins St. in his lineup.
“The wildflower made it more floral than sweet,” he said. “It’s a fun one.”
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
