Proust! Or was it Prost?

Flavor is an amazing thing. While there is certainly something to the idea that smell is the most powerful sense (I seem to recall reading somewhere that the part of the brain that negotiates smell is conveniently close to the part that holds the deepest memories), it's also clear that the sense of taste is so closely related to smell that I'm going to lump it in there as well. Involuntary memory is pretty amazing stuff, really.

After all, while the tongue can distinguish perhaps six flavors (sweet, salty, bitter, sour, umami [assuming one believes in it] and hot), the majority of flavor distinction is found when the nose is involved. Block up the nose (hello allergies!) and food just doesn't taste the same.

So one of my great disappointments living in the tristate area is that I can't get Oberon, a lovely summer beer native to Michigan. I am told that it is available in Pennsylvania, but even I'm not willing to drive that far. Seriously - somebody get on importing this stuff to New York / New Jersey. During a long layover,* I had an opportunity to go back to Ann Arbor, Michigan and knew immediately what beer I was going to have first.

The color of a Michigan summer.

Oberon is a cloudy yellow peach color. Often, when poured aggressively, it develops a nice thick head. Our waitress was being trained, and I don't think she was willing to pour my beer with the right vigor. Too bad. Anyway, Bell's is a native Michigan company, and while I'm not wild about all of their beers, Oberon is a perennial summer favorite. The color, aroma, and flavor are enough to transport me back to the good days of law school (and some of the bad ones too).

There's a lot of wonderful citrus in this beer: grapefruit and bitter orange peel come through the aroma. The flavor, on the other hand, is overwhelmingly herbal: it starts out with grass and hay before moving to a floral sourness that refreshes. The one thing I found odd was that the mouthfeel was thinner than I remembered. And toward the end of the sip, I could have sworn I tasted some bubblegum.

Taps, glorious taps. Plus a huge selection of whisky and other alcohols.

Following a delicious lunch, my friend and I invoked yet another memory with a pint at Ashley's. I spent many, many afternoons and evenings at Ashley's, which is a lovely beer bar right on State Street in the heart of Ann Arbor. The place memories are fantastic - this is where we celebrated getting jobs, finishing exams, fatherhood, and friendship. A group of three of us even went to Ashley's in our caps and gowns on the morning of our graduation.

This is a happy place.

As you might imagine, the smell was exactly the same - a faint hint of smoke from when Michigan allowed smoking indoors, and the wonderfully inviting aroma of beer.

Edmund Fitzgerald, next to its tap. Note its front row status - very well deserved.

We toasted to old friendships with an Edmund Fitzgerald, from Great Lakes Brewing Co. I will be the first to say that I hate Cleveland (I got a flat tire there in the rain while moving out of Ann Arbor), but the Edmund Fitzgerald almost makes up for it. It's a near perfect porter, with all of the characteristics I would look for. Unlike the Oberon, this one was also perfectly poured. The flavors are wonderful: mocha, dark chocolate, burnt caramel, malt. The hops are present, but they work on the margins. Each sip is creamy, yet bitter; sweet, but refreshing.

It's been a long time since I've seen the bottom of an Ashley's pint.

It's honestly one of my favorite beers, and it was exactly as I remembered it being. This one, I'll drive to Pennsylvania for. Proust can have his perfectly dipped madeline - I'll have another Edmund Fitzgerald.

*incidentally, that layover was scheduled to be 4.5 hours. It ended up as 8. Awful.