In all honesty I cannot say why I’ve never signed up at Beer Advocate before now. RateBeer is what I found first when I plunked “good beer” into the Yahoo search page and, satisfying my needs for a beer rating website, I looked no further. (Yahoo? No search bar? Must’ve been the stone age!) Nor can I really explain why I signed up at The Other Site just a few days ago.

So far there seems to be a little more content at BA (articles, news, guides) and fewer ratings, forum chatter and Europeans. The travel-oriented BeerFly section appears to be downright barren when it comes Finland and there’s a not-so-subtle lack of Finnish beer entries as well. Perhaps that will give me something to work on, though the queue of 557 establishments waiting to be verified for BeerFly is slightly discouraging.

On a more positive note, I certainly appreciate their take on the beer reviewing process. Specifically, BA policy seems to encourage users to be a little more careful and polite with their words and to take style into consideration, though not to rate strictly by style. BA’s minimum character count is also larger (250 vs the 75 of RB) and many actions that are unrestricted on RB are somewhat guarded. Will any of this make a difference in the actual quality of the reviews? Time will tell. I do fancy the ability to flag other user’s reviews as inappropriate if necessary, by the way.

While in the process of setting up my roost at BA I came up with six truthsthoughts about beer and reviewing, inspired by my recent rating renaissance. If heeded, the world just might be a prettier and happier place…hah. Well, the quality of ratings everywhere would improve at any rate.

Each review is a destination along a personal journey of knowledge and enjoyment. Make your best impression at each stop.

Every beer is greater than the sum of its descriptors. Poetry exists in translating themes, not copying dialogue.

Good reviews seek neither length nor brevity, but use the minimal number of words to describe the maximal amount of experience.

Don’t be afraid to score a beer high or low; politely constructive opinions are better than hedged scores.

If you don’t like a particular style keep trying. Meanwhile, don’t publicly critique with bias.

Styles are historical trends. History is (re)written every day but to define the present at the expense of the past cries of lunacy.

So, Respect Beer. Respect Yourself. Respect History. Respect the Motherfucking English Language, Homes. (Or your native language if that’s how you roll.) Saying much more would detract from the efficiency and clarity I strived to achieve in those six thoughts. However, I will add one tangent here. Good reviews follow the above thoughts where applicable but they also come pre-digested. Now don’t gross out here, listen to me.

What I mean is that the writer has chosen his words and structure such that the reader is required to do little independent thinking to process the words trickling past his eyes. This means no elaborate metaphors and similes, no convoluted language, no terrible spelling or grammatical errors, no intellectual laziness, no unnecessarily large words, and no using multiple words where one would suffice. Think: an efficient, flowing review of what the beer is. From my personal stockpile of beer reviews, I give you…

The Good

Billowing white cream; hazy, pale lemon hue. Fried bananas served with vanilla ice cream and cinnamon; oatmeal with stone fruits. Brief malts give to tangy acids; coating wheat lingers into a bright lemon zest finish. Well attenuated yet creamy; drying with fluffy carbonation. Smooth and safe with tangy acids and intriguing spice. (Hoegaarden, 66 points on 26/05/2008.)

The Bad

A thin, foamy pink head is quick to disperse over a deep and rich burgundy, sanguine hued body. The glass beams red like a cherry Jolly Rancher when held to the light…captivating (the beer, not cherry Jolly Ranchers). Cherry aroma is not lacking as this beer is bursting dark cherry and cherry pit aromas…very sour, very tannic. Farmyard and horse blanket aromas bustle about but fall squarely in line with the other elements, never dominating. Distinct lactic sourness simply adds to the sour and funky party already under way. Warm and bready, even crusty, malt elements really work well here much in the same way I’m so fond of New Glarus Belgian Red (…cherry pie…). Acetic acid also appears to be present, but not enough to make the beer seem pickled. The oak barrels have imparted a very mellow and warming presence to the aroma. The flavour begins sweet and full, making no mistake that the cherries are the star in this beer. Sour (almost licorice) and tannic qualities crush the sweetness down some making this infinitely drinkable. The acidity level is mind-blowing perfect…everything is. Bready malts arrive late and wash into wonderfully long, dry and tart finish. This is reminiscent of a really well made Zinfandel—the actual sweetness is fairly low and the finish dry, but the juicy and fruity flavours keep fooling you into believing that it’s very sweet and rich. While this beer isn’t nearly as sour as the Cantillons or Oud Beersels and not nearly as funky as Hanssens it does something none of those beers manage. It somehow manages to transport the flavour of these fresh picked cherries straight to the glass without disturbing them in the slightest. Mouthfeel, I almost forgot! Very rich and almost syrupy up front, it seems to quickly thin out into a velvety—almost oily—texture as it dries out in the finish. Carbonation seems a bit on the low side, but allows the flavours to be delivered with less interference…I’ll live. I can only begin to imagine how impressive this would be with a rich dark chocolate cake filled with real cherries and coated in a semi-bitter chocolate sauce. …Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek? …I <i>like</i> you. *blushes* (3 Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek, 94 points on 28/06/2006.)

The Ugly

I found the malt character of this beer to be too pronounced. There is hop bite at the end, but the hop and malt flavours never coincide. I thought this beer was interesting at first but the more I’ve had of it the less enjoyable it gets. (Rogue Dead Guy Ale, 64 points on 01/07/2003.)

Maybe I’ve abused the semi-colon as of late, but it’s a great little tool and hey, Michael Jackson used them with vigour. Good enough for me. As for the other two reviews, *shudder*, opposite ends of the spectrum of wrongness: saying everything and nothing at all. Yeah, I’m happy with my reviews now, but not so content that I won’t strive for improvement. Stay tuned for posts about Statistical Geekery and Überhoppy: The Misunderstood IPA.