What makes Our Mutual Friend
unique is their hands-on approach to brewing; most breweries buy their
ingredients ready-to-go but Our Mutual Friend takes the extra step to malt and roast their own barley which they source entirely within Colorado. This allows them to more closely monitor
their beer’s quality and it elevates
malts to a higher level of beer geek awareness because, let’s face it, of the Reinheitsgebot
ingredients, hops are quarterbacks, the star of the show and everybody’s
favorite, and malts are the O-line—we know they’re an integral part of the team
but fewer people buy their jerseys. Want
to keep this metaphor going? Okay, yeast
is the coach because it whips those lazy sugars into shape and turns them into
game-winning alcohols and water is the field goal ball holder because they aren’t
on anybody’s mind unless they do something terrible.
The outside of Our Mutual Friend is
the very definition of nondescript; a cream corn-colored brick wall with nary
an insignia in sight save for a small graphic on the front door. Indeed, I think I would have walked right past
the joint had I not noticed customers enjoying their brews on the side patio. The inside is, likewise, subdued with the
color palate running the gamut of dark gray to light gray, a vaulted,
corrugated steel ceiling, and tables of black metal topped with light wood thus
imparting a bit of warmth into the space.
 |
| Here's the only sign letting you know you're at the right place |
I don’t mean to give the impression
that the taproom is cold and lifeless, though; quite to the contrary, the muted
nature of the space allows the highlights to pop ever more colorfully. For example, the back of the bar is designed
like your grandparents’ bookshelf resplendent with eclectic books, musical instruments,
desk lamps, board games, and other assorted tchotchkes.
The big-bulb Christmas lights strung from the rafters also lend a
festive air while the vinyl record sound system provides a little something for
the hipsters.
Nicole and I sampled every beer
on tap: Proletariat (4.5% ABV), Saison (4.3% ABV), Pale Ale (5.6% ABV), IPA
(7.1% ABV), Brown Ale (6.3% ABV), and Huckleberry Roasters Coffee Stout (5%
ABV).
 |
| Left to right: Huckleberry Roasters, Brown Ale, IPA, Pale Ale, Saison, Proletariat |
Proletariat is a pale—almost white—straw
yellow beer that’s mostly clear with a touch of haze. The aroma smells of berries and bubblegum
while the flavor is crisp and wheat-y with hints of rye-like spiciness.
Another hazy, pale yellow beer,
Saison features whiffs of coriander that carry over into the flavor with bread/yeast
and traces of black pepper rounding out the taste.
Pale Ale is cloudy and orange
with sweet, tropical fruit scents—perhaps passion fruit? The flavor is interesting; it tastes a little
like tobacco and coffee. Did the malts
from Huckleberry Roasters infiltrate this batch? Cascara, the dried fruit shell leftover when the coffee bean has been
extracted, can have a tobacco-y quality to it so I’m not discounting
this theory. It’s not a bad beer by any
means but I do wonder if this batch came out as the brewers intended.
The
copper-colored, slightly cloudy IPA smells of wet wood—dank like a deciduous
forest—and is smoky. The hops are
apparent, not overly bitter, and rather grassy.
Brown
Ale is reddish-brown or mahogany with a beige head. The aroma is defined by dark fruit esters and
chocolate while the flavor is akin to a sweet chocolate-covered dark cherry
intermingled with toasted malts.
Huckleberry
Roasters Coffee Stout, made with coffee from the eponymous, local coffeehouse,
was far-and-above my favorite of the night.
Mostly black with ever-so-faint red highlights and a mocha-colored head,
this beer smells and tastes like strong, black coffee. It’s decedent and robust and I’m forever
befuddled by the fact that I hate coffee yet love coffee-flavored beer.
Before
departing, Nicole and I indulged in a waffle sandwich from Wafflegänger, the
food cart parked outside the taproom specializing in waffle sandwiches. It’s an eccentric concept but, take it from me,
it works! I may have had a Homer Simpson-esque drop of drool hanging from the corner of my mouth when I
absolutely destroyed my “Wäffen-cheese.”
On
our way back home we stopped at Denver Beer Co. for a spell to try the Chill
Out Chocolate Chili Stout which, while a fine beer, could have used a few more
peppers in the brew pot; I was expecting something much spicier.
 |
| Chill Out |
Our
Mutual Friend brings Nicole and I’s brewery count to an even 90 (I thought we
were already at 90 but a second-glance dispelled that assumption) and it was a
worthy place to reach such a milestone.
If you’re looking for a comfortable, urban, intimate place to sip some
suds, Our Mutual Friend has what you’re looking for so head over to Five Points
and give them a go.
Prost!
Chris
With the holiday season
quickly approaching, Chris and I thought it a good time to prepare our palates
for the impending feasts with some delicious Colorado craft beer. My favorite beer at Our Mutual Friend was
Huckleberry Roasters Coffee Stout. If all coffee tasted like this, I’d have a
cup every morning. I’m usually not a fan of bitter flavors but the roasted
bitterness of the coffee, for whatever reason, didn’t make me shudder. In fact, it was all quite smooth. Perhaps a visit
to Huckleberry Roasters to pick up coffee beans is in my future.
Like Chris, I devoured
my Wafflegänger creation. My sandwich
was called Scout. You can’t go wrong with apples, granola, peanut butter,
and honey between two waffles. In this
season of giving thanks, I’m thankful they provided me with a moist towelette to clean
up my gooey mess.
Nicole
 |
| Seen on a car outside Our Mutual Friend; I guess it's obvious they'd support him over the guy who doesn't drink |
