All great beers need a catchy name to be heard above the chatter. That’s what they teach in beer marketing school. Or so I’m told. I don’t know because I’ve never taken a beer marketing class.
Surprised? The truth is I don’t have any of those advanced beer-marketing degrees that people are getting online these days. Just because I keep my beer supply so miniscule doesn’t mean I’ve been taught to create false demand. The truth is I’m hoarding my beer. Also, I suspect people won’t actually like my brews, which is why I’ve been giving them names like “One” and “Two” and “Three”, and so forth. Who wants to drink a “Three” when they could wait in line at a Vermont beer outlet to buy a single Heady Topper? And so my very limited supply is ironically not in demand at all.
A good thing, because my latest effort, a farmhouse Saison, is an ale meant to be packed with flavor, but is actually rather light and airy, the result of a series of brewing blunders that essentially failed to extract fermentables from the steeping grains. Oh, I could go on, but the fact is that despite my considerable wisdom and brewing experience (hey, I’ve been doing this since 2013!), I’ve produced what may be the most insipid Saison ever.
Which is why I’ve decided to rebrand it “Disaster Pat’s Insipid Ale.” Interested in trying one? Of course not. Not when you can wait in a mile-long line in Vermont for a Heady Topper. (Limit: one per customer.)