Great Lakes Brewing Co.’s flagship Dortmunder Gold is a cultural icon: Classic CLE Eats & Drinks

CLEVELAND, Ohio — You never forget your first.

Beer. I meant beer. Come on, people.

My very first beer was a respectable Miller Lite. I say respectable because:

a) Milwaukee and Cleveland are more alike than they are different, except they’ve known what to do with their lakefront longer than we have;

b) it was served to me at a questionable age (“gasp!” and “woot!”) at Cleveland Municipal Stadium… staaahhp it, the statute of limitations and the building itself have long passed;

c) “how” it was served — warm, in a 16 oz., wax-coated paper cup, with a piece of plastic wrap over the mouth, held there precariously by a rubber band over the mouth. They pre-poured (heathens!!!) to keep the long lines moving. You had to drink up that temperate nectar before the bottom of the cup fell out.

Oh, and perhaps we should also consider d) unlike some beers of today, which are served with a wedge of citrus on the rim, this one had the original Murder Hornet — a mean ol’ wasp known as a Yellowjacket — clinging to the cup like it was Tom Cruise in a “Mission: Impossible” film.

Those were the days.

If you showed up at the ol’ Stadium for the start of the second inning, they just let you in without a ticket.

Management made more in concessions and merch on walk-ins than they ever would on admission to a baseball game. Those 100-loss seasons really crimped their style.

If you know, you know. Back then Browns games were a whole other story.

Ah, but I’m really not here to talk about sports or even my first light beer (at least not anymore).

No, I’m here to talk about my first craft beer. And as it was for so many in The Land, that first was a “Dort” —Dortmunder Gold, brewed by the godfathers of CLE craft at Great Lakes Brewing Co.

The brewery got its start on September 6, 1988, when brothers Pat and Dan Conway decided to dump the day jobs for something a little sexier. Before opening the brewery, Pat was a schoolteacher and Dan was a banker — and as current and former employees know by heart, nothing makes you want to drink more than handling other peoples’ kids and their money.

The rest is history, including Dort’s former name, The Heisman — named for football icon John Heisman of Cleveland’s Bridge Avenue and the resulting trophy that bears his name. This led to an infamous cease-and-desist from the trophy folks. That story is best served and summed up by our own Marc Bona.

Unlike my first light beer, my first Dort came legit on my 21st birthday at the brewpub.

A delectable lager beer, first popularized in what’s known as North Rhine-Westphalia in central Germany, the Dort is an intriguing brew: simple, yet complex. Smooth, well-balanced, accessible and crushable. But also subtly nuanced with a thin head, biscuit-like flavor profile with floral notes and beautiful, orange-bronze color.

Dort is also the beer that broke Cleveland wide open into becoming one of the premiere destinations for craft beer on the planet. Inspiring in more ways than one.

Here’s a brief music analogy: a lot of people who bought the Velvet Underground’s debut album went on to form bands of great import. With Dort, the beer was a gateway to making brewers who have gone on to fortify Cleveland’s legendary stature on the beer globe.

Brewers like Andy Tveekrem (Market Garden Brewery), Matt Cole (Fat Head’s), Luke Purcell (Collision Bend) and many others brewed for Great Lakes early on.

“That’s why it’s Cleveland’s original craft beer and remains a cultural icon,” said Mike Williams, beer educator at Great Lakes, referencing the beer that launched a thousand more.

“The beauty of it is that it’s simple and complex, which made it accessible to industrial [read: commercial] lager drinkers, but unique at the same time,” he said of the brewery’s flagship brew.

“I fell in love with that beer just like you did and, you’re right. It’s perfect as an entry-level beer for the craft-brew-curious, but there’s really a lot to unpack.”

Dortmunder Gold is still as tasty at a tailgate as it is at the tail end of a lobster on a surf-and-turf platter.

A friend once called Dortmunder Gold the perfect “helmet-to-heels” beer—that is to say, comfortable for a football fan’s day of “grievance nurturing” or a night on the town. No-frills and fancy all at once.

I wholeheartedly concur and will put that status to the test with the Cleveland Arts Prize festivities and Browns/Seahawks game this weekend. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find some wax paper cups…

I’m kidding. Really. I’m not a monster. Who could do that to a Dort?