House brews are an interesting creature: sometimes a major brew with a different name on it, or something a little craftier but similarly rebranded, or something brewed just for the establishment. Half the fun is trying to figure out what the beer is. Then when you ask, sometimes they’ll tell you, sometimes they won’t.

While visiting my brother down in Phoenix, we swung into Famous Dave’s for some brew and ‘cue. I’d had all the other beers on the menu, and when I asked about the Wild Hog, the server just said, “It’s kind of dark.”

(Info about this beer is pretty elusive on the interwebs. I found one site that called it “Hog Wild,” but I had checked the word order three times on our menu.)

The beer arrived a dark reddish brown, and seemed like it would be a good accompaniment to my Texas Manhandler, a sandwich chock full of brisket, smoked sausage, and pickles.

Wild Hog is fairly malty, but without any of the bitterness that comes with some types of malt. There wasn’t much, if any, hops flavor, or really any bitterness at all. It’s only lightly carbonated and smooth, and is fairly light in body for a beer that dark.

Then the guessing began. I surmised that it might be a slightly lighter version of Redhook’s ESB. My friend guessed maybe Moose Drool or Dundee Amber (which would have been a decent guess if they actually made one, but they do have a couple that are roughly similar.) My brother took the lowest-brow guess with Amber Bock. (A couple days later at the Fox and Hound, the house brew was Budweiser American Ale, an affordable and very underrated brew that isn’t as widely available as I would wish. So some places do rebrand some pretty mainstream stuff for the house.)

We asked the server if she knew what it actually was, and she went to check, and came back with an answer of Pyramid Amber. “Ah,” we said. But later I recalled that Pyramid doesn’t distribute an amber. So I’m assuming they brew this stuff just for Famous Dave’s; the chain is big enough for such a contract. In general I like Pyramid, and I like the Wild Hog. It’s a pretty good compliment to the range of barbecue sauces at the restaurant, and pairs well with red meat.

So next time you’re craving some Famous Dave’s barbecue, grab a Famous Dave’s brew, too.

The Basics:

• Pyramid Breweries
• Seattle, WA; Berkeley, CA; and Portland, OR
• Style: Amber ale
• ABV: ?
• IBUs: ?

Turbodog is one of those beers I’ve been aware of for ages, but have never tried. The one trip I’ve made to New Orleans was during one of the soberer stages of my life, and the few drinks I did have were of a more weather-themed variety (i.e. Hurricanes). The only Abita brew I’ve tried is Purple Haze, which is a fine brew, if you’re in favor of fruit in your beer and Hendrix references.

Abita brews in Abita Springs, about thirty miles north of N’Awlins, and runs a pretty respectable operation. Beers such as SOS (Save Our Shores) and Restoration Ale give money directly to some good causes: 75 cents of every bottle of SOS to an environmental restoration fund and $1 from every six-pack of Restoration Ale to the Louisiana Disaster Recovery Foundation.

Turbodog is pretty dark for a brown ale, and tastes the same. If someone had given me this as a blind sample, I probably would have guessed it was a porter.

The beer hits the tongue with an almost burnt cocoa flavor, but it isn’t harsh or astringent (we’re not in Starbucks coffee territory here). Adding to the bitter flavor is a very distinct hop flavor; they’re using Willamette hops here, and the brew tastes hoppier than the 28 IBUs would indicate.

The bitter elements are balanced out by a fairly light caramel flavor. The beer has a pretty thin body, and goes down very smoothly. Turbodog reminded me quite a bit of Firestone Walker’s Reserve Porter, which I reviewed two months ago, and also liked quite a bit.

If I have one big complaint against the beer, it’s that the label is pretty boring for something named Turbodog. I was envisioning something a little more like this:

C’mon, Abita, I love ya, but feel free to get wacky sometimes.

The Basics:

• Abita Brewing Company
• Abita Springs, LA
• Style: Brown ale
• ABV: 5.6%
• IBUs: 28

As I prepared to watch the Season 2 finale of Breaking Bad on Netflix, I decided such an occasion required a badass beer. I had an array of badass-sounding brews in the fridge, things with names like Terminal Gravity, Titan, and Turbodog. I passed over these and reached for the Heavy Lift Vessel.

I grabbed the bottle of Boatswain HLV because, though it might lack some alt-coolness in its name, it was the only beer I had in a big-ass bottle, and it was the strongest by alcohol. It was in the fridge because I had some prior luck with the brewery’s stout.

The internet tells me the beer is the same as the Minhas Mystical Jack Traditional Ale. At first, it comes across with the flavor of a pale ale, but it also tastes roasty, with hints of cocoa, almost like a porter. The beer also had a noticeable alcohol bite. Despite seeming fairly heavy, the brew had a weirdly thin body.

While I liked some aspects of the beer, it was marred by a weird grapefruit flavor. The previous weekend, I had a Widmer IPA that was actually brewed with grapefruit peels, and the HLV tasted disturbingly similar. So the beer manages to taste like both cocoa and grapefruit; does that sound like a winning combination to you?

At only $1.99 for a big bottle with 7% alcohol, it is a good drunk value. But it isn’t a good beer.

I’ll be avoiding this stuff like Walter and Jesse avoid the DEA.

The Basics:

• Rhinelander Brewing Company
• Monroe, WI
• Style: Ale
• ABV: 7.0%
• IBUs: 80

I like the idea of Belgium. They’ve given us big poofy waffles and French fries, and they weren’t on the wrong side in WWII. And they are known for brewing good beer.

And what better entity to brew Belgian beer here in America than a brewery named New Belgium?

The brewery offers a couple Belgian-style brews, including Abbey, a dubbel (meaning “double,” so named because it’s stronger than a standard offering). Trippel (the style is often spelled “tripel”) goes a little bigger.

Trippel is brewed with a little bit of coriander, and the herb is pretty light in the smell. However, I thought it was a little much in the taste. The beer is quite heavy, at 7.8% ABV, and it does have a fairly boozy taste. The beer finishes with a bit of citrus and pepper-like spice.

The Belgian yeast is quite prevalent in the flavor, but in this beer, it tastes like soap to me. The beer also has a thick and slippery texture, again, like soap. (Yup, I’ve had soap in my mouth before. Thanks, Mom!) I hated the aftertaste of this beer; everything I disliked about the beer just seemed to hang around in my mouth. Despite the soap taste, it didn’t finish clean.

I should point out that I might be one of the few people who doesn’t like this beer. My usual sources of beer intel rate it pretty high. But it’s not for me.

While we Americans have mastered some of the Belgian foodstuffs, I think we’ve fallen a little short here. Have some fries or waffles on hand to get the taste of this stuff out of your mouth.

The Basics:

• New Belgium Brewing Company
• Fort Collins, CO
• Style: Belgian-style ale
• ABV: 7.8%
• IBUs: 25

With summer firmly upon us and temperatures in my neck of the woods cracking 90, I figured it was time to finally pop open the bottle of spring seasonal that’s been sitting in my fridge for a while. With beer in hand, I would think wistfully back to a time when life was a little bit cooler, in the thermometer sense. (How a spring beer managed to survive spring in my fridge without getting consumed, I really don’t know. Maybe with the green label, it blended in with the grapes or lettuce? Or maybe, since the brewery is named for the goddess of fermentation, the beer prolonged its own life with some Mesopotamian goddess wizardry?)

Ninkasi is a pretty highly regarded brewer here in Oregon. But to be honest, I’ve never been the biggest fan. I do like the Oatis Stout, and most of their beers are solid, but nothing I’ve tried from them has really blown me away. And so it is with their Spring Reign seasonal ale.

Spring Reign comes on with a pretty heavy hit of malt that then gives way to a bitter hop finish. And…that’s about it. The beer has a pretty clean finish and medium body, and there isn’t a whole lot else going on.

The bottle’s label says this: “Notes of toasted malt up front, with a bright and crisp Northwest hop finish, it’s a session beer that everyone can enjoy!”

And I have to agree. No distracting, weird flavors. No bells and whistles. Just a solid beer.

I’d never turn one down, but it’s not a beer I’ll be thinking about much after that day’s drinking is done.

The Basics:

• Ninkasi Brewing Company
• Eugene, OR
• Style: Ale
• ABV: 6.0%
• IBUs: 38

Ah, agave nectar. That honey substitute for vegans or people who are convinced that it has a lower glycemic index than other sweeteners. Personally, I’ve always just found it a less tasty, more expensive alternative to honey.

At the store the other day, I picked up a Blue Moon sampler: the classic Blue Moon; a Belgian-style pale ale; Honey Moon, brewed with clover honey; and the Agave Blonde, which gets a hit of nectar from the agave cactus. After finishing the case, I’ve decided that not only do I prefer honey to agave on my pancakes, but also in my beer.

I was excited to try the Agave Blonde. Agave makes me think of cacti, which makes me think of Mexico and tequila and wandering around the desert on peyote searching for my spirit animal. Alas, Blue Moon did not help me find my spirit animal.

Agave Blonde is vaguely crisp up front, but it fades very quickly. It’s only lightly carbonated.

Surprisingly, the beer is not sweet, despite the use of the special sweetener. There is a very restrained wheat flavor, while the predominant flavor is a weird, almost vegetal bitterness. With only 14 IBUs, I’m assuming the bitterness is coming from the agave, not hops. For some reason, paired with the yeast, the beer’s flavor reminded me of Vegemite or Marmite (minus the extreme saltiness of those products, of course). The beer had one of the worst aftertastes I’ve encountered in a while.

I think the beer would be greatly helped with the addition of some citrus, or maybe as part of some sort of border-inspired beer cocktail. For now, though, I’ll be looking to Mexico, or perhaps, Arizona, for my borderlands drinking options.

The Basics:

• Blue Moon Brewing Company
• Golden, CO
• Style: Blonde ale
• ABV: 5.6%
• IBUs: 14

I’d had Pyramid’s summer seasonal, Curve Ball, years ago, and didn’t remember particularly liking it. Indeed, it gets a mediocre 75 over at Beer Advocate, and a pretty dismal 25 at Rate Beer. I avoided it for the better part of a decade.

However, I love my summer beers, and thought I’d give it another chance.

The first sip is crisp, and very fizzy, with a distinct but light citrus tang. That initial flavor gives way to yeast and very mild malt, with an almost biscuit-like flavor. The finish started out pretty clean, but as I got further into the bottle, I noticed a building and slightly sticky sweetness that I didn’t really like.

Pyramid’s Curve Ball is a pretty easy drinking and fairly standard summer ale. It’s not bad, but it’s nothing special. One night, I kept going back and forth between bottles of Curve Ball and Alaskan Summer, and must say I much preferred the Alaskan.

Pyramid doesn’t hit Curve Ball out of the park, but it doesn’t go down swinging, either. It’s hanging out somewhere in that broad middle ground between an All Star and Mario Mendoza.

The Basics:

• Pyramid Breweries
• Seattle, WA; Berkeley, CA; and Portland, OR
• Style: Blonde ale
• ABV: 5.0%
• IBUs: 18