REVIEW: Long Trail Blackbeary Wheat

Beer and college go together like peanut butter and jelly, spaghetti and meatballs, Bret Michaels and anti-fungal medication, Botox and the cast of The Real Housewives of New Jersey, RuPaul and surgical tape…

Okay, I think you get the idea. But, how about beer and fruit?

“Beer and fruit you say? I don’t want no fruity stuff in my brewski. I don’t even want that little pansy orange when I get a Blue Moon. Fruit and beer!?! Knock it off with your crazy talk, stop blocking the TV and go make me a turkey pot pie, woman.”

Well, Mr. Stereotypical Domestic Beer Drinker, I guess you wouldn’t be willing to try Long Trail’s Blackbeary (yes, Beary) Wheat.

Just like you, Mr. Stereotypical Domestic Beer Drinker, I too am a consumer of beers typically found in packs of 30 due to the crickets that have found a place in my wallet and chirp on cue when I open it just to piss me off and make fun of the fact that I am a poor college student. Those bastards. However sometimes when I want to splurge (especially when I’m in New Hampshire where beer is much cheaper than the Keystone State.) I pick up something that’s local and what I assume has better quality than a 30-pack of The Beast.

Long Trail is a brewery that hails from Vermont and…

“Vermont you say!?! You’re telling me they make beer in the state that got those Birkenstock-wearin’ liberal hippies, ice cream with names that are always a play on words and maple syrup!?! I told ya to knock it off with your crazy talk. And where the hell is my turkey pot pie?”

Well, yes, Mr. Stereotypical Domestic Beer Drinker, Long Trail is from Vermont and, actually, Vermont has more breweries per capita than any other state. Throughout the year, Long Trail likes to put out specialty brews that fit the season, and usually they have cute names and adorable labels with bears skiing or lounging out by trees or, in the case of the Blackbeary Wheat, an angry wife holding a rolling pin about to smack her husband who is attempting to take a piece of pie.

“Cute and adorable you say!?! Beer ain’t supposed to be cute or adorable. I need a beer that uses hot babes with their jugs bouncing up and down in their commercials, not some damn cartoon bear. Speaking about pie, where the hell is mine!?!”

Oh, Mr. Stereotypical Domestic Beer Drinker, you are so right. Beer shouldn’t be about how cute the label is; it’s all about the taste. The right amount of hops, how much alcohol it has, how quickly you can pound it during a game of beer pong, or with Long Trail Blackbeary Wheat, the perfect fruit to grain ratio.

“Ratio!?! What the hell are you talkin’ about, ratio? When I’m drinkin’ a nice cold one I don’t wanna think about some damn mathematical equation!”

Nor do I, Mr. Stereotypical Domestic Beer drinker, but when I do drink a fruit type beer like Sam Adams Cherry Wheat, I keep in mind the unification of fruit and grain. However, I couldn’t find any unification whatsoever while drinking the Blackbeary Wheat. In fact, I had to do a double take at the label to make sure I was drinking a fruit infused brew. The fruit flavor was nonexistent, like Spencer Pratt’s brain, which left my mouth wanting something with more substance even after I downed two of them.

“See, I told ya. Don’t buy those fancy, pansy-ass beers with cute names, stick to brews that got one syllable names like Bud or Miller.”

Um, Mr. Stereotypical Domestic Beer Drinker, Miller has two syllables…

“One. Two. Same difference. Now what did I say? Stop blockin’ the TV and go make me a turkey pot pie, woman.”

Item: Long Trail Blackbeary Wheat
Price: $11.99 (on sale)
Size: 12 oz – 12 pack
Purchased at: Shaw’s
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: It’s beer. Funny/adorable label. Beer commercials. Playing beer pong. Only 6 grams of carbs. Being able to purchase beer at a grocery store. Poking fun at misogynistic stereotypes.
Cons: Literally no trace of blackberry. Literally no buzz. The crickets in my wallet rubbing it in that I purchased this instead of a 30-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.