Creativity in any area tends to have a very intentional give-and-take. In school, we all learned about the story arc, with its rising action that builds toward a climax and then falls away. In the theater (theatre for those of you drinking a mild ale), soliloquies stop time for a moment, giving the audience time to reflect on one character. In classical music, this often happens through what musicians call pacing: how a piece unfolds and keeps you interested over time depends just as much on the small moments as it does on the big ones. Today, the Blonde Ale, in addition to a few other styles, fills a similar role in a brewery’s offerings.

You’re not likely to pick one of these up and have a revelation about the meaning of life based on its elegance and refinement (if you’re looking for that in beer, though, you might want to try French wine or acid). This beer is all about simplicity. It gives beer loves an option that’s interesting, but doesn’t yell over your conversation with massive flavors. In a good blonde, you’ll find an easy-going pint with light toasted malt, subtle but interesting hops, and a smooth, clean finish. To achieve that, brewers often use clean American ale yeast fermented cooler, but many also use lager yeast or cold condition this beer (it’s considered a “hybrid” style by the BJCP and BA for that reason).

All of this is a matter of perspective, though. We might call this “easy-going” today without flinching, but put this beer in front of Jack Arnold from the Wonder Years and he’s going to spit it all over that perfectly trimmed lawn (then patriarchally demand a vodka tonic). Before IPAs became as big a part of the market as they are today, these beers were a big seller in the craft industry, likely because in comparison to big beer, these things were bold and a bit challenging.

There’s a ton of variety in how brewers approach flavor, but one thing we all have in common is that we want beer with great flavors, and we want those flavors to be diverse. We had purposefully bland and homogeneous beer in the US for a looooooooong time (see our post on American Lager) and it was boring. The craft movement is about asking more from the things you buy, the people who make them, and the ingredients they use. Most of the beer you try in tap rooms now is fairly big and bold, but this beer is a quiet celebration of the ingredients and subtlety. Even more importantly, it’s a celebration of the people you share it with.