Dear Sam Adams,
This is a really tough letter to write. It’s taken me a lot of soul-searching to be able to find the strength to tell you what I’m about to, but deep in my heart, I know it’s for the best.
Sam Adams – I’m sorry. It’s over.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been seeing another beer – Dale’s Pale Ale from Oskar Blues Brewery in Colorado. It started off as just a fling – just to try something new and exciting – but the more time we’ve spent together, the more I’ve realized that Dale’s Pale Ale and I were meant to be together.
It doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. There’ll always be a special place for you in my heart (and liver.) I’ll never forget the first time we met, in that TGI Friday’s restaurant in Huntington, Long Island. On my first day in America, you were my first introduction to ‘real’ American Beer, and some of the finest times in my life have been enhanced by your foamy deliciousness.
You were my ‘Friday night special’ when I lived on Long Island. When I was back home in Britain, imported bottles of Sam were my little reminder of where I’d decided my home was. Even recently, when hitting up the Renaissance Faire in upstate New York, you were the foamy ale I quaffed while checking out the girls in bustiers and corsets.
But the fact is, something’s missing. I need more from the beer in my life – something only Dale’s Pale Ale has been able to deliver. Ever since I first cracked open that little blue can, I’ve realized that I’m an unrepentant ‘hop head’ and Dale’s potent, hoppy recipe can satisfy me in a way your more sedate, sophisticated brew can’t.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m sure I’ll slip occasionally and we can briefly be together for old times sake, or when visiting a Casual Dining Restaurant that doesn’t stock my favorite Blues brew (very few do.) But we both know it can never be the same. Our time together was great – but now I think it’s time we accepted that I need to see other beers.
Thanks for being so great about this. You’ll always be special brew to me.