Despite bubbly effervescence, citrus-tinged spiciness, creamy malt elegance, and pleasant grain finish, pale reddish-hued ale remains unassuming. Easy to drink, but in need of extra umphh! Beer’s been retired since ’08.

Amiable creamy-headed straw-hazed sparkling ale combines dark Belgian malts with sinewy yeast funk, bitter citrus spicing, and tea-like splendor for casually perplexed moderate body. As hoppy as an IPA (with wispy yellow grapefruit, green apple, and orange fruiting), but softly crisp-watered and lightly grained, allowing pilsner fans a chance to catch their breath.

Toasted almond nuttiness, brazen barley roast, and cracked wheat spine thin out to diffuse buttery finish of middling light body. Somewhat flat, acidic, and oily when warmed.

Thick doughy essence and cloy creamed corn froth buried beneath dismal maize-dried metallic hop fizz to sudsy diacetyl finish. Acetous density bloats gut for flatulent conclusion. Low-budgeted blue collar fans call it Genny Cream. Pass.

Unlike most Rogue’s tried and tested, this was found only in smaller 12-ounce bottle. Amazingly, it loses little textural richness or fine organic consistency. Honey-glazed creaminess, moderate fruity bitterness, and herbal twinge enhance corn syrupy malted grain continuance, though intrusively astringent hop finish ransacks buttery vanilla snippet.

Pours from the can like thick nitro-fueled Guinness (though much lighter in appearance), allowing cascading bubbles to arise from bottom. Creamy froth saturates orange peel tang, wafting barleymalt sweetness and brisk hop bitterness, bettering Boddington’s billowy dilution by a widget. But it’s a tidbit thin for its class.

Initially, sour-fruited hefeweizen-pilsner-pale ale combo needed more pronounced Scotch malt thrust and less astringent nuttiness to hike wavering orange-lemon midst and floral-spiced backdrop. Second tasting a year hence, 10% alcohol level enlivened caramelized apple sweetness, broader floral bouquet and ascending piney-hopped grapefruit-apricot finish for much better result.

Brewed with hemp seed, indistinguishable cream ale knocks off richer, more popular Hempen Ale, though sour-fruited nature and bittersweet honeyed malting seem apprehensive. Fairly strong (is that the hemp going to my head?) with fine grain mesh and paltry berry dab.

In cheap transparent bottle not unlike Miller Beer, pale-toned welterweight layers soft lemony-hopped toasted nut sputter and doughy dullness across corn sugared malt piquancy. But light buttery essence lacks discernible creaminess. Polite, simple, indistinct mediocrity gets nod over Genesee.

A different version of Labatt 50 to celebrate brewers’ half-century mark. Fizzy raspberry spritz, floral fruit scamper, and grain-malted tranquility consume front end. Short-lived meringue finish recalls spicier red ales, but expected creaminess lacks.

Translucent coppery one-off can’t escape miring Sleeman-related grain dankness. Yet heavier alcohol combustion and tangy orange-apricot stint best brewers’ traditional Cream Ale. Sweet malts turn frustratingly pungent though straw-to-cracked wheat spine holds up well against meager lemon drop snip. Too bad carbolic diacetyl finish gets oily. (Numeric appellation designates ancient recipe page.)

Exquisitely full-bodied hazy golden amber libation seamlessly merges pleasant floral hop bitterness with dense honeydew-orange-grapefruit wallop and residual candied sugar sweetness, besting meagerly cream ale competition with its eccentric cornucopia of fruits, spices, and grains. Peppery herbs are scattered across tropical kiwi-mango flourish, sappy honey continuance, piney resin goo, and eventually, an earthen mineral-like mustiness. Sterling.