Ed. Note: I stopped by Rorschach the day we got our advance copies of the second edition of the Ontario Craft Beer Guide. I’d been dropping off a copy for Nicole Crozier at The Auld Spot and the night seemed young. The kind of high spirits that surround having your book turn up in a physical format are not suited to actually reviewing something. The impression is rose tinted, and besides, they’d only been open for a month. Nearly three years in, it’s time to stare at the ink blot and see what emerges.



Is there an unfashionable end of Eastern Avenue? If there is, Rorschach Brewing occupies it. It’s a part of the city that specializes in function. Pushing past the TTC’s Russell Yard on the streetcar, the overhead cabling seems an oppressive suspended web, and the low slung letter processing plant next door was constructed in a style somewhere between Late Brutalism and Mid-Century Bureaucrat. Rorschach itself is the last building on the street, housed in a century home next to an auto repair yard. Rorschach’s rooftop patio has a commanding view of the very pleasant, but extremely unfairly named Main Sewage Treatment Playground.



On the way in at 5:30, Eastern is still the outflow from the city for commuters and the street is best crossed at the light. Later in the evening, it’s comparatively a ghost town with most of the foot traffic up on Queen Street.



Rorschach Brewing is probably best seen during the summer. With both a front patio and a rooftop patio, the property seems sprawling. In February, the focus is on getting people through the door. Previously the property had been a french restaurant, Le Papillon On The Park, specializing in exactly one experience. Currently, there are posters behind the bar advertising recurring weekly specials: five dollar wings on Tuesdays, fifteen dollars for a beer and a burger on Thursdays. For Valentine’s day a cheese and chocolate pairing. Music Trivia on Wednesdays. Live Music on Fridays. A food pop-up Saturday and a handmade goods pop-up Sunday.



Music trivia as seen from the perspective of a squeegee

It seems to me an interesting reversal of fortune for the Rorschach brand. At the time of launch, the lineup of beers all drew their names from the world of psychological concept. The Rorschach inkblot test itself is designed to reflect the patient’s state of mind; the kind of thing a Hollywood movie might use as signification for diagnosis. The names were in some cases quite clever. Take Icarus Complex: A Double IPA with Kiwi and Lactose, named for a condition in which spiritual ambition is thwarted by a personal limitation. Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for? I don’t think much about Browning these days, unless it’s Maillard.



113 beers in within three years, the naming convention has relaxed somewhat, partially due to the fact that there are only so many usable concepts. In practice, your experience of Rorschach Brewing would depend on the day you were there as the hosted events would draw different groups of people. The selection of beers on offer might also be the most eclectic in the city. “Everyone has their own perception of what they like,” says brewer Matthew Reiner.



The list is eclectic and features something for everyone. Reminiscence, for example, is one of their best selling beers to licensees. It’s a simple Mexican style Vienna Lager in the Modelo mold, featuring Pilsner and Vienna malts and flaked corn in order to lighten up the body, while the hop variety is migratory. They work with whichever noble hop is available, finding synthesis with other recipes. The remainder of the lagers on draught are less traditional. Serenity sits lightly in the India Pale Lager mold, with oats and wheat providing a cushion for the Galaxy hops and their kiwi and passionfruit aromas. It’s a great showcase of Galaxy’s character, and at only six pounds of dry hopping per batch, potentially a better use of them than a hazy IPA.



Normopathy (ie. a fear of being unlike everyone else) is a Pilsner featuring Saaz and Ella, where the bridge point between those two hop characters is lemon peel. The aroma is honeydew and apricot, but the palate is that floral, peppery saaz snap. Shameless is a take on Malt Liquor, a combination of two-row, six-row, corn and some biscuit malt for colour. It’s all red apple ester and cherry wood tobacco, and at 7% alcohol is reminiscent of a better Holsten Festbock.



The entirety of the list is an exercise in play. The range of styles, even before you get out of the lager section of the menu nods at trend while subverting the expectations of traditional craft beer drinkers by including adjunct grains and styles most companies wouldn’t consider. Systematic Desensitization is the highlight. A Horchata Dessert Lager by billing, it features cinnamon, rice, lactose, and vanilla. While that may sound like a conceptual hodgepodge, it’s brilliantly realized, with a progression of flavour over the course of each sip that runs from cinnamon bun through a soft body to a crisp, refreshing lager finish at 4.5%. It somehow manages not only to subvert what the drinker might expect from a beer, but what the drinker might expect from a Horchata. It not only works, but elegantly.



It occurs to me, as I’m tasting through the tap list that several options are part of a series. Hedonism, for instance, is a series of Sour Sorbet IPAs. Opulence is a series of Fruited Dessert Sours. Malevolent Benevolence is a base Imperial Stout with any number of individual variants available through the bottle shop including a Nanaimo Bar version. None of these things existed in this market five years ago, but here we are with as many variants as you can shake a stick at. Reverie – a Dreamsicle Double IPA featuring guava, pineapple, mango, and passion fruit makes a compelling argument that fruit is a better source of fruit flavour than hops, but why not both?



Not that everything involves Lactose. God Spot is simply a well made Saison. At 6.5%, it has a light, powdery character to it with lemon, orange peel and pepper on the nose in addition to a touch of ripe bosc pear and white grape. God Complex, its bigger brother, turns up the esters and phenols: Ripe banana, pear and pepper with a touch more candied orange and a dangerously smooth palate. Both would be in the conversation for best in the city, if not the province.



Choose which version of the brewery you’d like to attend.





On my visit, the food menu was brand new. The beer comes in four different sizes, giving you options for consumption. If you don’t like the bleeding edge eighteen tap list as it exists, there are additional varieties in the bottle shop. Don’t feel like sitting inside? Two patios! I find myself wondering whether it’s necessary; If being everything at once is what it takes to succeed. The result is one of the most compelling brewpub beer lists in the city, but it seems like a hell of a lot of work. They’ve created an experience which will always be similar but probably not repeatable. No one will come out of Rorschach telling the same story, since the experience is so malleable.

At least that’s what I see.