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: ?

We’ve finally done it as a society: someone has created just-add-water beer.

A company called Pat’s Backcountry Beverages, based in lovely Talkeetna, Alaska, (seriously, visit there sometime; they say it was one of the inspirations for Northern Exposure) has developed a line of concentrated beverages, including beer, which are paired with a portable carbonator bottle.

Apparently, the stuff is not dehydrated beer, but beer made through a patent-pending process that makes it strong and nearly waterless.

My initial thought about this stuff — perfect for camping! — doesn’t really make sense; water weighs as much as beer, so it doesn’t help you save weight in your backpack. However, the company seems to be aiming more toward reducing shipping weight and resources, such as the cost of packaging and the fuel to ship heavy containers of beer. And if you take it camping, you’ll have less garbage to carry back out.

Personally, I’m looking forward to seeing what this stuff tastes like before the water is added. And then I’ll probably keep a few in my car’s glove box. For emergencies.

Pat’s Backcountry Beverages will also offer soda, if you’re more soberer than I am and interested in such drinks.

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

Prior to camping this past weekend, I decided I would need a breakfast beer. I didn’t feel like going the coffee porter or stout route, and opted instead for a Chelada.

Chelada comes in both Bud Light and heavy versions, and is spiked with Clamato (clam-fortified tomato juice), salt, and lime. Bud Light is the best-selling beer in the world, but I do not like it. It leaves a horrid aftertaste in my mouth. I’ve tried the Bud Light Chelada before, and was very unimpressed. This time, I reached for the more caloric can.

I drank one can while setting up a tent following a four-hour drive, and another the next morning for breakfast. I quite liked the stuff. It was refreshingly fizzy, with a solid kick of tomato and a detectable lime bite, and perhaps a little too salty. To my tongue, it tasted exactly like the sum of its parts. Personally, I would add a splash of Tabasco.

Before even attempting this beer, you need to ask yourself the following: Do you like tomato juice? Do you have an aversion to shellfish? Do these things sound appealing mixed with beer? Do you ever put lime in your beer? Does salty beer sound in any way appetizing?

A month or so ago, I was mixing these myself from scratch. Beer with V-8, Tabasco, black pepper, and lime. I was at a friend’s place and using his beer. The Budweiser version was perhaps on par with my self-mixed Rolling Rock version, a little worse than my Corona version.

The beer snobs on the internet have much hate for this stuff (a 52 at BeerAdvocate and a stunning zero at RateBeer). Obviously, if you hate Budweiser, you won’t like this stuff. If you hate tomato juice, clams, etc. you won’t like this stuff. Even if you love the Bud and all the ingredients separately, you might find this stuff strange. But sometimes, and for some people, it can be just right.

The Basics:

• Anheuser-Busch, Inc.
• St. Louis, MO
• Style: Lager with Clamato
• ABV: 5.0%
• IBUs: ?

Oh, those wacky Norwegians. Even their bears like to drink.

In northern Norway, a bear and three cubs appear to have ripped the wall right off a cabin, and then went in and partied bear-style. Their consumption included over 100 cans of beer. They also ate all of the honey in the house (of course), as well as all the marshmallows and chocolate spread. (Lacking opposable thumbs, they did not make s’mores.)

As the cabin’s owner told the local news, “They had a hell of a party in there. The cabin has the stench of a right old piss-up, trash, and bears.”

One can only hope that the bears didn’t suffer from unbearable hangovers in the morning.

Beer has been brewed in the small town of Hoegaarden, Belgium, since about 1445. Originally the work of monks, the brewing of wheat beer eventually took off in the village, and by the end of the 19th century, Hoegaarden had 36 breweries. And only 2,000 villagers. But this little plot of Beervana wouldn’t last. Due to the post-World War II economy and the rise of competitors brewing clear lagers with industrial methods and new refrigeration techniques, the small wheat breweries fell one by one. In 1957, Tomsin, the last wheat beer brewery in Hoegaarden, closed its doors.

In 1965, a group of Hoegaarden villagers, led by the village milkman, Pierre Celis (who had worked at the Tomsin brewery before it closed), decided to revive the beer.

Celis was successful, and today Hoegaarden is enjoyed in numerous countries around the world.

The beer is a traditional Belgian white, brewed with the classic coriander and orange peel. It is pale yellow in color and hazy, due to being unfiltered. Hoegaarden says that the beer is best served in its traditional hexagonal glass, but I chose to drink it straight from the 11.2 ounce bottle. (I just can’t help but feel a little cheated by those missing 0.8 ounces, but then again, I’m an American, with my sense of entitlement and need for overconsumption.)

The beer was well carbonated upon opening the bottle, but went flat quickly. The beer starts off with a nice hit of citrus that gives way to an oatmeal-like flavor. It’s about medium on the sweetness scale, and tasted slightly watery. The brew had a funky wheat aftertaste; not really skunky, but sort of like bran flakes that have sat on the counter for a day or two.

Hoegaarden is a decent beer, and fairly refreshing, but personally, I think there are a couple other imports that do the style a little better.

But those other beers might not have such a good story. The milkman who saved a town’s beer: I’ll drink to that.

The Basics:

• Hoegaarden Brewery
• Hoegaarden, Belgium
• Style: Belgian white
• ABV: 4.9%
• IBUs: 13

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

MacTarnahan’s. I remember buying mixed cases of this stuff from Sam’s Club when I was in college. I kind of thought of it as something maybe a step up from High Life, but still something to be purchased in mass quantities at a warehouse store. Even the name seemed a little contrived, like it was trying a little too hard to sound Irish or Scottish or something. I never really took the brewery seriously.

And then I moved to Oregon. MacTarnahan’s is based out of Portland, and used to be the Portland Brewing Company. And the name isn’t some corporate creation, but the name of one of the brewery’s original investors.

And while it’s not even close to one of my favorite breweries, they do put out some pretty decent beer.

MacTarnahan’s Inkblot is Baltic porter. The style is more robust than a standard porter, and got its name because it was a popular style to ship across the North Sea. Inkblot is fairly strong, at 7.5% ABV, but doesn’t taste overly boozy.

The beer is thick and a little syrupy, and weighed a little heavy in my stomach. As a decent porter should, this one was roasty, with fairly restrained flavors of coffee and chocolate. The beer is sweet, but didn’t seem excessive for something so strong.

Really, the thing this beer made me think of is Cocoa Puffs. Particularly, if you had laid out some Cocoa Puffs on a baking sheet and toasted them under the broiler, so they were not quite burnt. If that sounds delicious to you, you will like this beer. If not, it’s still probably worth a try.

The label tries to mimic the beer’s name, and looks like crappy graffiti, which doesn’t really make much sense; I don’t think folks in the hood are sipping this stuff. Still, I like to think that maybe this is the stuff that Rorschach, of the Watchmen, likes to drink when he’s not beating up bad guys. Or hipsters, since the beer hails from Portland.

The Basics:

• MacTarnahan’s Brewing Company
• Portland, OR
• Style: Baltic porter
• ABV: 7.5%
• IBUs: 35

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

Samuel Adams has created Brewlywed Ale to help commemorate wedding season. And love, I suppose.

The brew is a limited-edition offering, and will only be available Thursday, July 26, from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the brewery’s Boston location. The first 20 people to arrive in wedding attire will get to move to the front of the line, which will give them a better chance at getting one of the fifty bottles signed by Samuel Adams’ founder and brewmaster Jim Koch.

There will also be a raffle with prizes ranging from coverage of a rehearsal dinner tab to the rental of a photo booth.

And how does the beer taste? Brewed with a Belgian yeast strain, the beer is grassy and fruity, with tastes of flowers and cloves. The beer is 8% ABV, slightly hazy with a medium body.

The beer will be sold in 750mL, cork-finished bottles; the price is $14.99 per bottle. Brewlywed can also be purchased in cases of twelve bottles, and buyers are limited to three cases per purchase.

If I lived in Boston and was, you know, in love or something like that, I would do my best to be there. Go love! And beer!