I remember a few years back having a conversation with a well-known professional craft brewer and being surprised when he said that he really respected the brewers at the big corporate breweries. He argued that it is very hard to make such light-bodied beer with consistency and without flaws. While I was a bit taken aback at first, upon reflection I realized he was right. In a light lager, the brewer has nowhere to hide. Every little off-flavour will jump right out. With big roasty or hoppy beer, some of the more subtle mistakes can be masked by the intense flavours found in the beer. His point about consistency also rings true, but that is not the point of my post.

I want to spend a few moments celebrating a kind of beer often overlooked these days. You know, those modest, moderate beer styles. So I made so-called “quiet beer” the topic of this month’s Beer 101 (which you can read here). A quiet beer is any beer that still offers interesting flavour but in a more toned down fashion. This can be anything from the oft-ridiculed (unfairly) pale lager to blonde ales, brown ales and even English Bitters. Anything where the emphasis is on moderation and balance.

Why do I feel the need to defend quiet beer? It is because I am wondering if some people have simply left them behind. As beer drinkers’ palates develop and the grow accustomed to big, hoppy IPAs, dark Russian Imperial Stouts and oak-aged ale, for many I wonder if a brown ale or amber lager become boring. In conversations with beer bar owners recently I have heard a few times that brown ales, amber lagers, blonde ales and the like are not moving very well, while bigger beer are selling at a crisp pace. This suggests to me that consumers, at least the consumers who go to those kind of establishments, are wanting bigger beer and eschewing quiet beer.

As I mention in the column, a few minutes cruising any one of the beer review websites you find a decided bias toward big, bold and brash. Even stunningly well made quiet beer get “mehs” from the reviewers. I have seen hundreds of reviews of blond ales, ordinary bitters and pale lagers that are summed up with “not very interesting”.

Which is fair. I am not going to second-guess people’s tastes in this matter. But I do want to raise a glass to those overlooked quiet beer. They can offer a very enjoyable pint or two. And to those who are finding such beer timid or uninteresting, stop and consider just how hard those beer can be to make. Without a bucket of Citra hops or six-weeks of aging in oak, there is very little to hide behind for the brewer. Any flaw in their process will show through (and sometimes does). Subtlety is just as hard to achieve as big and bold, because it offers so little room for error.

When judging a beer, I work hard to keep in mind what the brewer was aiming for, as to me that is the only fair way to judge the beer. Comparing some light, fruity wheat ale to a double IPA stacks the deck against the quieter beer. When you are in the bar, feel free to order whatever catches your fancy. All I ask is that before you pass over that nut brown ale or amber lager, consider the effort that went in to making it in all its modesty and subdued balance.