LAST WEEK, I wrote about some strange brews that have been popping up on beer shelves. Beer flavored with bananas, blueberries, even crème brulee.
Here's one to top 'em all: Mama Mia Pizza Beer.
I kid you not.
It's an ale flavored with fresh tomatoes, oregano, basil and garlic. Take a big whiff, and you think you just opened up a box from Domino's. Take a sip, and you get a mellow tomato flavor - not overwhelming, just a hint - with a nice garlic bite on your lips.
I know, pizza-flavored beer sounds awful, like something teenagers would think up after swiping a sixpack from the garage fridge and discovering that – much as they enjoy the buzz – they really can't stand the taste of lager. Dude, they should make pepperoni pilsner!
In fact, this stuff is really pretty darn good.
Not just marginally drinkable, like a gimmick that you'd try once and then smile just to be polite. The underlying tomato character brings to mind a tart rye ale, the spice tingles like a peppery Belgian saison. Flavorful, full-bodied and fun - it's a surprising treat.
Surprising, even, to Tom Seefurth, the guy who invented it.
The original batch was just a lark, he said. A longtime homebrewer from St. Charles, Ill., Seefurth and his wife, Athena, were sitting around two years ago over Labor Day weekend, trying to figure out what to make with a bunch of leftover ingredients.
"We had some tomatoes, and I thought about using those. And I had a neighbor who was always talking about doing a garlic beer, so we added that. I had some fresh oregano, some basil, an old packet of [yeast]," Seefurth said. "I said, 'It probably won't work - if it doesn't, we can just cook with it.' "
Fermentation did its trick, the couple bottled the beer, waited for it to carbonate and then gave it a try.
"The first time we tasted it, we looked at each other and said, 'You know, it's actually good,' " Seefurth said. "I'm glad I wrote down the recipe."
A couple weeks passed.
One night they ordered a pizza - one of those stuffed Chicago pies - and opened up a pinot noir. It just didn't go well with their meal. They uncorked a zinfandel - nope. A cabernet.
"None of them worked. So I said, 'You know what, let's pop open one of those tomato beers.' We gave it one taste and I said, 'Holy s- - -, this is fantastic! It's perfect with pizza.'
"That's when we started calling it Pizza Beer."
