This has been one of the most unkind summers that I can remember, from both a personal and a meteorological standpoint—so when my good friend James texted me back in July, wondering if I was game for the Rare & Wild Beer Festival at the Marina Park near downtown San Diego, on Sept. 14, I quickly checked the brewery list and, seeing some promising names, bought my ticket.
A very long six weeks later, I departed to San Diego, with sunny skies, a cool breeze and the thermometer topping out at 73 degrees. When James told me that he and his girlfriend, Meg, were to be married in a small ceremony in the Pacific Northwest the next weekend, the weekend turned even more celebratory.
After an evening concert with another friend, Bennett (who, with James, has joined me on my L.A. Beer Fest excursions), an excellent conversation and a good night’s sleep (with the windows open … imagine that), Bennett departed, and we got prepped for the festival. We walked a couple of miles from Meg’s place on Banker’s Hill to the Marina Park North at the Embarcadero. When it’s that lovely outside, why wouldn’t you walk?
We arrived, and after a quick bite from one of the various of food trucks, we got down to business. The first tent I saw had bottles of Cantillon Gueuze being poured—and a shockingly short line for what I consider to be one of the most premium beers from one of the most premium breweries in the world. I dragged James over to try it, and it was as subtly beautiful and refined a lambic can be. The organizers got two cases of the stuff along with many bottles of 3 Fonteinen’s gorgeous Kriek and Peche lambics (cherry and peach, for those unfamiliar with the Flemish and French words respectively). The Rare & Wild Festival had already pleased me, and I was one pour in.
After a semi-disappointing pour of The Chateau from de Garde (generally a brewer of sours), I shambled over to Sour Cellars to say hi to co-owner Chintya, whom I am always happy to see. I sipped on the Drinkitite—a blend of four separate years of barrel-aged sours that is re-fermented with blueberries. As we caught up, her line began to get deservedly long, and as she sold some merchandise, I stepped in to pour for those waiting (with my Cicerone knowledge actually being put to good use for once!). I always tell everyone the same thing about Sour Cellars: It’s a world-class sour brewery in an industrial area of Rancho Cucamonga. There’s no excuse not to go.
From there, the Sierra Nevada tent was calling. Their Oktoberfest collaboration with a Bavarian brewery called Gutmann is absolutely killer, especially on a clear, warm day by the sea. While not wild or rare, their “crystal wheat,” Old Chico, was being poured—and it was incredibly thirst-quenching, crisp and delicious. They call it a pale bock, and I was surprised how much I loved it. Sierra may have pivoted with the Hazy Little Thing IPA stuff, but they know their roots and can still deliver.
In a line a few yards from the actual harbor, Everywhere Beer and a brewery perplexingly called There Does Not Exist stood. I took a pour of There Does Not Exist’s collaboration with Firestone called Temporal Illusion. It is a saison, and its yeast character is heavily reminiscent of pepper, a little citrus and a whole lot of bubble gum. Everywhere had a picture-perfect German-style pilsner and a West Coast IPA to sip on while I talked to one of its owners about another beer of theirs I had recently enjoyed.
Around this time is when I started to take in the view of the harbor, feel the cool breeze off of the sea, see the many boats out on the water, view the entirety of Coronado Bridge and the island itself, and hear the funk band with a full horn section playing ’70s music. I felt simultaneously pleased and then sad, because I live in a place where the summer was particularly cruel, and where the beer culture is actually regressing somehow.
Thankfully, I caught myself and focused on the sea as James and Meg rejoined me, and we hit a few more breweries before the festival’s end. That’s when I found Itza Brewing from Ocean Beach. The brewer, Javier, is from Mexico and described how they don’t even have a taproom yet. As soon as I tasted KAAMOS, the Baltic porter that Javier poured, I was sad there was no taproom: It was a truly delicious beer, brewed to style with a lovely dark fruitiness and toasty quality. You don’t see many Baltic porters brewed, but when they’re done well, they’re like smoother versions of an English porter, which can already be quite smooth. He had a hazy IPA that drank like a West Coast (a good thing in my book) and a Mexican lager which he fermented similarly to a sake. Keep an eye open for Itza Brewing to be sure.
All in all, the Rare & Wild Beer Festival very satisfying festival experience. Were all the beers rare or wild? No. Did all the breweries listed on the website show? No. But was the setting, overall level of beer, entertainment and organization of high quality? Yes. I had a great time—and I’m hard to please in this respect.
