For most styles you need to know which notes to hit hard, which to hit softly, and which to ignore altogether. Old Ale is a style in which that balance is tough to strike, but essential to get right. Let’s start with the name, which might throw brewers for a loop. In particular, it’s the “old”—that means it needs to be aged extensively, right? I mean, it’s right there in the name. It’s also in the “strong ale” category, so you need to be getting a lot of warm alcohols, right? I mean, it’s right there in the name.
Unfortunately for the literalists out there, this is a beer that is not particularly “aged” in its presentation (or, at least, it doesn’t have to be), and in most cases, it is not particularly alcoholic in its presentation (or, at least, it doesn’t have to be—am I getting repetitive this week?). Done well, Old Ale includes flavors that we often associate with aged beers but that can be developed without the risk of actually engaging in extended aging. Don’t let the name fool you.
Style
Historically, Old Ale was the stronger alternative to the bitters and milds that English breweries produced. Since neither of those low-alcohol staples hold up well to aging, a stronger beer was developed that could hold up to some age but was not explicitly aged for any particular reason. In fact, it was common to blend older ales with young beers to make the newer beers taste less green, thereby allowing pubs sell the younger beers sooner and increase their pull-through. Those that were aged, though, often picked up some wild yeast (often Brettanomyces) tartness and funk from their casks, and that plus the vinous quality caused by oxidized alcohols led to the modern interpretation of a moderately strong English ale with complex flavor—though usually without the sour notes.