Gooder Good People Brewing Co Pale Ale

Ordering a draft beer at ROJO! cantina of the Highland area in Birmingham, AL, can be a gamble. But not the fun pissing away chips at a crowded craps table type of gambling. More like the sad type of gambling where you're slouched at a slot machine with your last Newport hanging out of the corner of your mouth knowing that once you're down to your last nickel the aging waitress in the short dress won't bring you any more complimentary Bud Lite.

"this time is it, I can feel i... damn... this time is it, I can feel i... damn..."

The gamble comes at Rojo because more times than not ordering a draft beer gets me something either warm, flat, metallic, or oily or chewy, and so forth, instead of anything proper. It could be caused by a number of things; dirty tap lines, warmed beer, soapy glasses. I don't know exactly, but it happens. A lot. And my point is not to pick on Rojo, as these problems are sadly shared across the town with other bars/restaurants.

My point to is to illustrate the fortune that came my way when last night while at Rojo. I ordered a local draft Pale Ale brewed less than a mile away at the Good People Brewery. You see, another sad fact of the local draft service is that locally brewed draft suffers from quality control, not from lack of care or professionalism (I like to think), but because the new guys, as a consequence of their newyness, have a harder time getting their quality control systems in place (I like to think). Good People, for all their effort, creates excellent and fun beers that are undermined by the poor tap maintenance of, well, whoever (distributors, bartenders, managers, and the brewers. It's a team effort to screw things up sometimes). This is important to Good People, as their product can only be found on draft.

But such was not the case on this fateful Thursday night at Rojo.

The sweet bartender of beer righteousness poured the best Good People Pale Ale I've ever had. A draft! and a locally brewed draft at that. I double downed on black and won. Crisp and effervescent and at that perfect not too cold temperature but just cold enough to last the entire beer. The nose was toasty and floral, but faint. Like a Pale Ale. The body was properly lighter than the usual Good People thick chewiness. Then that taste. Nothing too unique or "in your face" about it, but not lacking in flavor by any means. Like a Pale Ale. The toasty malt was just enough to step in front of whatever flavoring hops were there. Just well balanced, and though I want to say simple, that makes it seem plain, and that's not fair to this beer.

It's just that with so many brewers these days trying to "push the extremes" of beer flavors, we as drinkers end up surrounded by "extreme" pale ales, when by definition, such a beer ought to be mild (when compared to cousins IPAs, APAs, ESBs, etc). And the Good People Pale Ale is just that; mild, as well as unassuming. You can drink it without really having to think about it, but not in the Bud-Lite-glued-to-my-hand-all-afternoon way of not having to think about. But rather in the true session beer sense of not having to think about it.

Think about it. According to Good People Brewing Co, the Pale Ale has an original gravity of 1.054 and a IBU of 36. I can guesstimate an ABV of approximately 5%, so paired with that relatively low bittering amount of 36 IBU, this is quite the session beer. Enjoy one right after the other. And so here is the part of this article where I appropriately sum things up with my gambling metaphor by declaring that the Good People Pale Ale is a sure bet... when served from a proper draft.