I know I can blame the fact that it is my job, but somehow that doesn’t seem to let me off the hook. How many times do I need to be burned by the latest “new thing” from one of the big brewers before I just stop giving them even a milli-second of possibility? I can’t seem to help myself. I see the glossy ad, the big promises of flavour, quality and “newness”, and even though my gut screams out at me that it is nothing but marketing fantasy, my brains insists that I give the beer an honest try. I never expect much, but I convince myself that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. And, rarely, it is and they find a way to release a beer that is at least passably drinkable (see Rickard’s Dark as an example).

But most of the time three minutes after the pour I find myself gazing down the glass wondering how so much hype could produce so little beer. It reminds me regularly of the quote from Macbeth of “the tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” I am left wondering who is the idiot in this picture (could it be me?).

Today’s culprit is Alexander Keith’s Ambrosia Blonde, their latest Brewmaster’s Limited Release. The stupidly over-the-top name should have been my first tip-off. Then the boasting ads of “slight hoppy” and “caramel” flavours should have sent my running for cover.

Yet somehow I found myself staring down a glass of Ambrosia (Really? The marketing guys couldn’t come up with a name more outlandish – like Alexander Keith’s Orgasm?). I will say this: it’s blonde. That part is accurate. From there – not so much.

I found very little flavour in the beer at all. Some light grainy sweetness, a bit of fruitiness and a lot of water. The hops weren’t “slight”, they were non-existent. And the closest caramel came to touching this beer was the candy store down the street from the brewery. I actually suspect it is all-grain, but what a waste of good malted barley. My overall impression is that it is Keith’s IPA (which we all know isn’t) fermented a bit warmer and with fewer adjuncts.

And before the AB-Inbev guys write me off as a hophead beer geek fanatic, let me say that just the day before I lingered over a bottle of Harviestoun’s Bitter and Twisted, appreciating every sip. I mention this tidbit because that beer claims to be a simple blonde ale and nothing more, yet it finds a way to impart some gentle malt sweetness, citrus sharpness and refreshing crispness. I enjoy Bitter and Twisted immensely and would happily have one on a hot summer day (of which there have been none here in Halifax, but that is another story).

A blonde beer doesn’t need to be boring. It actually is one of my favourite styles to brew, as the challenge of making it both light and flavourful is fun. So why does Keith’s feel the need to sluff off some insipid, boring substandard product and then promise that it is the next best thing to sliced bread? We probably all know the answer to that.

All I can say for myself is that this time I neither ordered a full pint nor did I pay for the beer. I talked the wonderful server at the pub into providing a small sample before ordering a real beer. Maybe I do learn, albeit slowly.