Tom Porter, owner of Lake Louie Brewing, names quite a few of his brews after neighboring places, like Coon Rock Cream Ale, named after Coon Rock Road off of U.S. Highway 14. Hell, the name of the brewery itself comes from a tiny pond just outside Arena. However, Prairie Moon, tonight’s beer review, didn’t get its name from the countryside, because Arena sits in a giant floodplain of the Wisconsin River. Which would explain the flooding folks in the area experienced last month.

The copy on my bottles of Prairie Moon call it a farmhouse Belgian-style ale, which most likely means it’s a saison: it’ll look light, be a decent strength, and have some funkiness (it is a Belgian style, after all) to keep your taste buds on their toes.

Prairie Moon hits all three of those factors square in the nuts. I pour it into a wide-mouthed goblet, a hazy gold with no head to speak of. The nose is spritzy orange zest on the front, barnyard funk on the back, with faint musty hops rounding off the edges. The sip starts super acidic—so much so that I initially feared I had a tainted bottle—but settles down after the first couple-three sips. The acidity is still very much there, alongside tons of cow pasture notes. The finish is sharp, tart, and refreshing, punctuated by a shot of earthy hops.

Prairie Moon is a dead-on, no-punches-pulled saison. The body was a little heavy for the style and the head needed some work, but otherwise a solid take on this ideal summer quencher. Not as distinctive as, say, a Rabid Rabbit, but both refreshing and complex, just like a good saison should be. So grab yourself a sixer while it’s still in season.

Reviewed by Eddie Glick on July 10, 2008.

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