…..continued – We reluctantly left Detroit on Monday, September 9th. It was humid and rainy, but by the time we reached Kalamazoo there was a blazing sun beating down on us. We walked the quaint, quasi cosmopolitan city in the early evening and while Julie captured a gorgeous sunset the humidity thickened the air considerably. Kalamazoo was not just a point on the map, it was west and we were headed west, but most importantly Kalamazoo is home to the Bells Brewery.
Lounging on the Bells outdoor patio, too excited to have my first Oktober beer to worry about the lake of sweat forming on me in places no man wants moisture, I was relaxed and ready for a beer. The Marzen came and was good. Of course it had the proper aroma, was malty without fruit, down the center as far as bitterness, however not as classic Bavarian a Marzen as I’m accustomed to, feeling like an American Amber dressed as a Marzen. I often like when breweries take something classic and delicately spin it to fit their aesthetic, doesn’t always work, but for Bells it does. Continue reading