Name: The Crisp
Brewery: Sixpoint
Style: Pilsner
Price: $9.49 per 4-pack of 16 oz. cans
ABV: 5.4
IBU: 42
Final Grade: B
Score: 37

This was my first Sixpoint beer, which was admittedly an unusual choice, as “The Crisp” is the only lager that this ale-centric brewery has crafted. Yet it left me with a terrific first impression.

I’ll acknowledge, up front, that I drank it out of a can on that first tasting. It was my first night back in Brooklyn and two old friends showed up with this as one of two Sixpoint four-packs in their hands. Cans are not the ideal tasting vessel, of course. And what came through as big malt developed into more of a cooked corn aroma when I poured it into the glass.

A little cooked corn — caused by dimenthyl sulfide — is common in some lagers. It’s allowed in pilsners and light lagers, but this was a bit much for me. I checked some other beer review websites, and nobody else has mentioned it, so perhaps I got a bad batch or maybe I’m just more sensitive to it than others. Nevertheless, I still liked this beer. It’s highly drinkable. Plus, I love the name.

Oskar Blues likes to be cute with names. The “Ten Fidy,” “Old Chub,” and “Gubna” Imperial IPA, while outstanding beverages, seem more like punch lines than serious beers.

The party hosts had impeccable taste and, judging by the hors d’oeuvres — most of which included some kind of smoked meat or artisan cheese with an unpronounceable name — they wanted us to know it.

As per usual, I was in the kitchen, alternately sipping Smuttynose IPA and Old Grandad, while geeking out with a couple of guys over beer.

One of those guys was the husband, who’d lived out West during the craft beer explosion of the early 90s. Dude had tasted his fair share of barleywines, double IPAs, Russian Imperial Stouts and American takes on those flavorful high-alcohol Belgians, all of which I was gushing about.

Then he said something that startled me.

“You know,” he said, “Years ago, everybody was going crazy over all of these big beers. ‘Man, I’ve never tasted anything like this.’ But sometimes, I really just want a nice pilsner.”

High noon snuck up on Rik Marley one Saturday in late November. The afternoon had seemed to come a few hours too soon.Marley brightened, however, when the conversation turned to pilsners.

A guy I know recently tried one of the Rauchbiers I’d brewed a few months back, and said something I found both flattering and startling.
“I’ve tried a couple of your beers now,” he said, “and they’re very grown up.”
Grown up? What the hell does that mean, I thought, knowing full well his point. It means showing restraint, not overdoing the alcohol kick or hops or, in this case, the smoke. I’d agree with him on that beer — it had some alcohol kick at around 6-6.5 percent, but nothing …

Just as I was ready to swear off using fruit and other adjuncts, I sampled some homebrews that restored my good faith in and hopes for experimental beer.
This brewer who we’ll call “Bob” (because that’s his actual name) broke out several special brews, including a honey ginger lager, cherry porter and jalapeno pilsner that were all things to behold. I’d tried using ginger, honey and jalapenos in the past — with mixed results — and the raspberry basil porter I made in February convinced me to give fruit a rest …