Over the years my friends and acquaintances have chided me for having no palette when it comes to choosing beer for any and all occasions. While packing for a NASCAR race in Charlotte, NC my boss handed me a hundred dollar bill with the one condition being that I couldn't spend it all on Budweiser. He and others who were accompanying me on the excursion had been spending evenings and an awful lot of their per diem on beers with words in their titles such as: Lambic, Dogfish Head, Dopplebock, and Lagunitas. To thirty-eight-year-old me this was a terrible waste of money. At 42 I might be starting to see the light as my tastes have expanded and now include some of those fancy labels that require a steady paycheck (or should) to enjoy.
A few weeks ago a rep from Chicago Beverage came to the Old Town Ale House and dropped off a six pack of tasters from the Argus brewery, which is located on the south side of Chicago. The names on the bottles were all weird and those of us doing the tasting had a hard time keeping track of what was in the yay and nay column. Four of the beers were under consideration. One wasn't bad but the final candidate, which was some wheat mess that tasted like spit, was immediately discarded. The winner was the Argus Pegasus IPA. This fine beverage now has its place in the cooler at the Ale House and sells for a bargain price of five dollars. The people who try it love it. I tried it and loved it. That is when I started to notice a change or as my friends have put it - a long overdue maturity. Ever since the Argus tasting, I have been turning my nose up at traditional flavors that have so dutifully quenched my thirst for quite a few years.
The first time I ever tried beer I loved it. The first time I remember trying it was at Pope's Tavern circa 1977. One afternoon my parents took me along to see a musician friend of theirs named Drew who attended our church. My step father ordered a bottle of Budweiser. It came with one of those hourglass pilsner glasses that you hardly ever see in bars anymore. When my step father poured the Budweiser into the glass my mouth started to water. This small ordinary act had a big effect on an eight year old boy from the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Tiny bubbles rose through amber colored liquid that seemed to glow as bright as the sun. To put it simply I was captivated. I asked if I could taste the beer. Thinking like most parents would my stepfather agreed and pushed the glass my way. I stood up in my chair and grabbed that fine hourglass shape with both hands then gently put the rim to my lips. The carbonation sensation mixed with the smell of barely and hops hit me in all the right places. I tipped that glass up as high as I could and tried to drink the whole thing down as if it were a sippy cup full of apple juice. This caused quite a commotion because the next thing I remember was the glass being yanked out of my hands and beer spilling on the table and my Garanimals. The waitress rushed over some towels and my step father said: "I didn't think he'd like it." Even Drew, in the middle of a song, laughed at the scene I had just caused. Ooops.
My affinity for America's best-selling lager stuck. It is one of the longest lasting relationships I have ever endured. However, tastes have changed and Budweiser just doesn't do it for me anymore. Maybe when the warm weather returns things will go back to normal but for now sitting back on the couch when all the items on the to-do list have been crossed off requires something with a little more attitude, something a little more distinct.
Yesterday I went up to Binny's Beverage Depot and had some fun in the craft beer aisle.
My afternoon was spent enjoying the fruits of my labor. After a recent conversation with the Chicago Beverage rep I followed his recommendation and opened up a bottle of Southern Tier Imperial Mokah. I like a flavorful cup of coffee in the afternoons but after an incredibly productive day I went with a coffee-flavored stout instead. The Mokah tasted like hedonism and set the stage for an incredible siesta with one bottle at 1 pint 6ounces having 11.2% alcohol by volume. I wish I had let it sit in the fridge a little bit longer because I drank it a few degrees too warm. The first sips were delicious but has time went on (this heavy beer was probably meant to last from a kickoff to a halftime) I had to drink faster than I would have liked as the beer started to get closer to room temperature. My gaffe at the chilling process did not make for a bad experience at all with the Mokah. I look forward to putting another bottle in the fridge quite soon.
In the evening I opened a bottle of Dogfish Head My Antonia which is labeled as "a continually hopped imperial pils." This beer is more my speed. If it was more of a bargain price I would keep a steady supply in my fridge. This beer was light yet packed a fine-tuned hoppy flavor and boasted a bouquet that made me breath deeply before every sip. This 1 pint 9.4 ounce bottle disappeared before the first commercial break of Mad Fashion and I was sad to have made it disappear so quickly, but at least it made Gracie's choice of nighttime television palatable. Never again will I go into a store and walk out with only one bottle of My Antonia unless I only have ten bucks in my pocket.
Another tasty choice I tried recently is Hinterland's Luna Coffee Stout. I found the best flavor was achieved exactly the opposite way of the Imperial Mokah. The first sips right out of the cooler had a little too much bite but as time went on, after one episode during a marathon of House Hunters International, the flavors settled down and tasted more authentic to the brew master's intention. The beer was much lighter and I could still maintain my charming personality after three pints and six episodes of HHI.
All three beers will have a return engagement to my refrigerator but the clear winner is Dogfish Head's My Antonia. Those folks over there in Delaware have really done some spectacular brewing. I look forward to trying more of their wares. For now I need to close and hit that to-do list because there is a whole shelf full of craft beers left over from yesterday that need taste testing. Who's going to come finish up the bottles of Budweiser way in the back?
I frequently say that when it comes to beer and coffee I can go high end or barrel bottom. Cutting grass or out on the boat, any beer will do. Come winter time, oatmeal or imperial stouts abide.
ReplyDeleteNext time you are on the Shore, we need to make a road trip to Evolution Craft Brewery in Delmar, DE. Or I'll have them bring stuff back here (brewmaster is a friend and lives in Easton).