United Nations of Beer

DHam Ambree

by Ashley Cotter-Cairns
(UNOB HQ)

D'ham Ambree: QC beer with a label crisis

D'Ham Ambree beer

You know how the road to Hell is supposed to be paved with good intentions? Well, my road to Hell is probably going to be paved with undrunk bottles, cans and kegs of beer.

Yes, I've been meaning to review this beer since our Quebec Beer Tasting night back in early February, and it's now APRIL. Life really has a way of sliding past you when you're not looking.

That night was a turning point for me, with so many different Quebec beers on hand and several beer-loving friends to help me sample them. I found myself developing a taste for the province's brews, but perhaps more importantly learning what was good and what I really didn't like about them.

So with apologies to people who like things bitter and amber, I am getting a little tired of bitter Quebec reds.

It's really hard to differentiate between the various brands. Every single brewer produces at least one product exactly like the one I just sampled. Call it whatever you like (one cheeky company actually calls theirs Bitter Red, or rather, Rousse Bitter. Red Bitter to you, me or any French speakers around), it all tastes the damn same.

And so to the beer of the evening, D'ham Ambree. You'd be forgiven for expecting this to be a blonde. After all, the label does promise blondeness. Pour it out though and you'll find yourself reaching back to the bottle for a closer look.

And hey presto! There's a tiny little label proclaiming the true nature of the beast.

In all likelihood, this was from a mislabeled batch and by opening it, I've probably ruined a future collectable. Beer bottle lovers would perhaps be cursing my stupidity. Anyway, is D'Ham Ambree any good?

Well... I hesitate to slag this off, simply because there must be impartiality. It's no better or worse than any of the similar ones I've tried in Quebec. It pours with a nice frothy head and looks scary enough in the glass, with a deep amber-orange colour and a reassuringly wheaty nose.

For me though, if you're going to drink a bitter ale, why not go the whole hog and snuffle up an IPA? I like dryness with my bitters, and while there's plenty of taste here, the aftertaste is just too thin and meanly bitter to be something I'd seek out again.

Sorry, D'ham. I know you produce some fine beers, but this won't become one of my favourites anytime soon.