My good friend’s father was in the Army during the 60’s and was stationed in Turkey. Ever since, he’s had a proclivity for Turkish cuisine, culture, and most recently, Turkish beer. He’s also gotten in contact with old friends from Izmir, an ancient port city on the Aegean. Able to reap the benefits of this set-up, I acquired two Efes beers: one Pilsner style and one called Efes Dark. I’m always up for imports, or anything I haven’t tried, so I figured I’d try to give these an honest review while I had a moment.

The Efes Pilsener, which interestingly enough lists itself in tiny print as “Pilsener Ale” on the neck’s label (more than likely due to import reasons), is a pale straw color that produces a finger of brilliant white head that dissipates without leaving any lace behind. It has a biscuity and grainy aroma, smelling somewhat metallic in the sense that it could be brewed with adjuncts. From its appearance and smell, I’m concerned this may be another mass-produced Euro lager with little character, but I’m reserving judgment until I taste it.

Turns out, the metallic bite that comes from many industrially made lagers is non-existent. Efes Pilsener has a grainy, pale malt introduction that is more robust than expected, and it fades smoothly and evenly in the middle. The result is a clean, slightly drying finish, but again, not in the way that many macro pale lagers tend to do; this is refreshing. On top of that, there is a noticeably soft hint of diacetyl that mimics its Czech ancestors, and the carbonation isn’t too much on the palate at all. Not an exact replica by any means, but a notable feature to this beer. Enough to make me look kindly on this one, and see its appeal for what it is.

Then we have the Efes Dark. This beer is even more confusing than its sibling, and, even for a self-appointed Dark Beer, also lists itself as a Pilsener Ale. Go figure. Not only that, while the Pils is contained in a brown glass bottle, the Dark is in a clear one.

Anyway, the Dark is a rich mahogany hue, but translucent nonetheless. About a centimeter of head forms at the top and disappears quickly. The aromatics are actually cleaner than the Efes Pilsener; this brewery is just full of surprises. There’s a touch of caramel in the nose, but other than that, not much else.

The taste is perplexing to say the least. Again, this is somehow cleaner on the palate, but also less flavorful, both of which I didn’t see coming. That ghost-like caramel malt sweetness is accompanied by a soft toasted character up front, but lacks any dynamic as it exits quietly. There is a bit of the caramel flavor that lingers in the aftertaste, but it’s nothing to write home about.

Overall, I’d say that Efes has done a great job of throwing my brain and tongue for a loop, to say the least. Their Pilsner-style offering was one that I could see being a savior at a bar filled with Heineken and Bud products, but the Dark I wasn’t so keen on. Both were decent enough, but I’d opt for the Pils out of the two.

If I ever get to Izmir, I could see that one hitting the spot on a balmy day. But after my trip to Central Europe, I’ll have to settle for the heat of the Richmond summer instead. Either way, I can’t complain.