You Really Plan to Drink That?

So one of my things to do this year is keep people from always drinking wheat beer (hefeweizen, weiss, hefe, bunchaotherspellingsingerman.) Let's go ahead and cross that one off the list.

Five Reasons Not to Drink Wheat Beer all Damn Year

-The glass. You look like a real no-nonsense kind of idiot carrying this around.

Carry this around and there will be no nonsense, idiot.

Incidentally, have you ever tried hand-washing a hefe glass? It's like going fist-deep into the mutual destruction of shattering glass and lacerated wrists.

- Wheat beer simply does not go with every type of food. Enjoy that tuna salad sandwich, because it's about the only thing you can while gulping down your orange slice-laden cloudy beer.

Steak? Stew? Human flesh cut directly from the spit? You're going to need something with a bit more oomph for all of these if you want your beer to pair. This is a great beer for braising a human thigh.

-Way back (in the day) wheat was rationed (death panels!) for brewing, because so many people wanted wheat beer that there was a shortage on bread. Think about that for a second. We almost starved to death because we couldn't get enough Blue Moon.

Not pictured: craft beer.

-I got your sister drunk one night on Franziskaner... and now the connection will make you barf.

-There are so many different styles of beer. This is probably the best reason.

So what if hefeweiss is your favorite style of beer; I'm sure there are others that can satisfy your mis. Didn't your dad drink Budweiser all his life? Didn't you swear to "get off this goddam plot of earth he's always tilling, and experience life."

Then do it.

She Was Cute, Not Interested.

I'm snowed in at my other job at the airport. Again.

Last month I got snowed in at the airport, and I vowed not to find myself in the same situation again. I'd call in sick, I said. Tell the boss my car just wouldn't make it, and hang up the phone before a word of refutation could be uttered (been reading John Adams, and the 18th century-speak is creeping into my vernacular.)

Instead I'm wasting away what could be a beautiful day for drinking. What's better than an (actual, because "she dumped me/I dumped her/I took a dump on her" doesn't count) excuse for drinking mid-day? Grab some buddies that can't get to work (most people don't get up at 4am to get yelled at, but we can't have it all) head over to your nearest bottle shop (might I suggest this cozy place?) and grab a few bottles that'll tide you over to warmer weather.

These are my suggestions:

-Start off with something big, since it's so damn cold - but not overly hoppy because you wouldn't want to ruin your palate on the first beer (so none of this.) An English Barleywine,
perhaps? If you can find an '09 bottle of Legend Barleywine (which, if you haven't bought one already, you can't) then drink it. It may be better in a few years, but with global warming, this very well may be our last snow day on Earth.

Then we'll have to drink Corona.

-Slow down the pace there, buddy, 'cause it's a long day (especially if you'd got up at 4, then decided that the roads were too bad like you were supposed to.) If you've got some mucus-ey buildup (you dirty boy) from the Barleywine, then it's Dry Irish Stout. Beats the pants off of Guinness. If you still need some viscosity in your life, then THIS. Seriously, one of the best beers I had in 2009.

-Now you can step up the hop profile, because your tongue is probably getting close to shot. Pale Ale is a good bet, maybe something on the sweeter side. If you're feeling brave, you could have a Tripel. This one is a winner because it's so damn tasty, and at something like six bucks a bottle, it's one of the cheapest representations of the style.

-You've earned it. Time to pleasure/pain your tongue with a shitton of lupulin. While everyone has an opinion on the best IPA/DIPA/IIPA/BigAsHellHoppyFuckingBeer, I kind of like this one. So much hop, so much much malt. So much going on that at this point you wont appreciate it.

Of course, you'll probably just guzzle this crap all day. Fucking hipster.

Tasting Note (Inspired) by Holden Caufield

Of course they would switch the wines on me. Of course, this week, when it's my week, they'd pull a switch-up and mess with things. No continuity. But people never notice anything.

What I like about these beers is that they don't give you a bunch of horse manure about what a great beer it's dad was. No one cares that they come from a long line of Helles lagers, and beers that brag on it are just phony.

Delicate, that kills me. Those lagers are about as delicate as a toilet seat.

What really knocks me out is when you're finished with a beer, and you wish the brewer was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him on the telephone whenever you felt like it. -hc

Ommegang Three Philosophers (Cooperstown, NY) 9.8% abv
I can't believe you're reading this, but I guess the first thing you want to know about this beer is that it's a dark, strong, abbey stylebeer like the monks used to make in Belgium. It kinds of gets me, that there aren't monks making this beer, but what do monks care about beer anyway? The beer is so terrific, it makes me sad that it's kind of phony. They added cherry juice to it too.


Smuttynose Barleywine (Portsmouth, NH) 10%abv
Another case of phony; this isn't wine.

For Want of Tryptophan

(Ok, I lied. This one is from a Thanksgiving tasting. )

I'm a southern boy at heart (look, I can't help the way I grew up anymore than you can help buying cheap wine every week) so my favorite holidays are ones centered around a meal. My ma's brothers and their families all live within a half mile of each other, on a bendy road in the part of Fluvanna we're hoping gets looked over (there aren't any lines on it yet, anyway) and, come next Thursday, we'll be eating, talking, and then falling asleep like families do. The ones where I come from, leastway.

Somewhere in Africa a child is crying, fatty.

Now, I wish that I could tell you that we'll all enjoy the beers you're tasting tonight, but much like I'm a beer guy in a wine shop (and from this perspective, a wine town I'm also a beer guy in a wine family. We'll drink "rye-zling" as my uncle calls it, maybe a "vig-ner," but beer? That's trashy. Nevermind the bottles are corked and caged, beautifully presented and drunk in wine glasses (yes, I drink Belgian styles in wine glasses) and that they arguably are more versatile to the meal. Beer is beer, and wine is better.

Dupont Saison 6.5% abv

We've tasted this before, sometime in the summer when I had first decided it was my favorite beer (and there's really no better way to while away an afternoon on the porch.) Perfect with "horse durves" (ok, nobody in my family actually says that) with high carbonation that scrubs the palate between crab cakes and cheese and those little hot dogs you have to poke out of the crockpot (you guys do that too, right?)


Unibroue Terrible 10.5% abv
After you're as stuffed as the poultry in front of you, and been told to quit burning rolls over the candles (that's it Charlie, no more candles for the chaps table!) and are trying unsuccessfuly to watch a football game that you don't care about, open this one. I promise that if you can get Aunt Lissa to have a glass she'll forget your pyromaniac tendencies, and you'll like that game a lot more.

Ten Things for 2010 (or, I Can Smell the Splenda from Here.)

(This'll be the first post not out of wine shop tasting notes, hopefully the last one prefaced with parenthesis.)

At the end of the year tasting at the wine shop where I work (seriously, more to come later) I did a "Ten Things I Learned in 2009" because 2009 was a big year for my palate. It was the year I learned that a west coast hop profile is not the be-all and end-all of beer. I even learned to love Belgian Dubbels (and lets face it, anyone can like a beer like Duvel, it takes a slightly [only slightly] broader view to enjoy Ommegang Abbey).

However, I still can't abide fruit beers. Seriously - get that framboise away from me.

I figured I'd start (officially) this blog off with a "Ten Things for 2010." Things I'd like to learn, things I'd like to be reality by the year's close, things I'll put in as a joke for filler.

10. Geuze. I don't ever want to fall in love with a sweet lambic, but if I can learn to appreciate these almost-spoiled, blended sour ales, this year will be a success.

9. Brew every week. I was doing so well with this New Year's Resolution, up to the third week...

8. Beer is good; however, more beer is not necessarily better.

7. Start wearing a small recorder whenever I go to a bar, to a tasting, or to a brew session that'll have plenty of beer (RDWHAHB, right?) Ties in to number eight.

6. Come up with something for number 6.

5. Keep people from drinking wheat beer year-round. Every single one of them. There has to be at least one of these that hasn't a chance in hell of happening, right?

4. Go to Belgium. Seriously, flight benefits, income that's nothing if not disposable, and I still haven't made it anywhere except for that quickie weed-run to Amsterdam last Christmas? Shame on you, Charlie.

Shame on you.

3. PBR is like reverse beer snobbery, but you have to drink shitty beer.

2. This is not mine and I have a problem with that.

1. Don't even bring that inside my home, unless you plan to sleep with me. The smell of it is giving me diabetes.

Shoo, Better Fill 'er Up

(Yes, I'm posting stuff I've written for tastings at my job [more on that later?] but since a good portion [all] of you haven't read it, it's new to you!)

I spent the past few days (back in October) in Portland, Oregon visiting some friends and enjoying some fruits of our microbial friend, the yeast cells', labor (I have a swollen ankle to prove it.) There's the big conception that everyone on the west coast loves hops, or precisely, loves MORE hops. My first beer (at a bar called East Burn, they have hammock chairs to drink in) was a red ale called Devestation, and it did nothing to disprove the idea. Big, juicy hops followed by a smidge of caramel followed by bigger, juicier hops.

So now I'm back on the east coast and I can't taste a thing. My lips feel like leather. My tongue is coated in humulone. I looked around the beer room, thinking "there has to be SOMETHING brewed on the east coast that can compete with such bitterness." And though I'm not sure if
we'll ever catch up to our buddies across the yard (and to be honest, I don't know if we should) I think I've found a few beers that can at least stand up and say "taste me, and destroy your palate."

I know what you're thinking. "But Beer Guy, I'm into malt, I much prefer a Scotch ale to an IPA." Tough shit. We all have to do things we don't want to sometimes - It's life. I will tell you that if you look (taste) hard enough, you'll find a sweetness in any bitter beer.

Starr Hill Northern Lights (Crozet, Va) 6% abv,
I've had this beer a few seperate times, each leaving me with a different impression. Today however, NoLights (as I am sometimes apt to call it) pours a hazy, honey color, that hints at least a small part of its smell. Mostly the nose is full of citric, bordering on harsh, hops, with a little
honey graham cracker in the back.

BIG bitter hops splash against the tongue, which is followed by some caramel and some toast, and is finished with citrus hop.

Blue Mountain Full Nelson (afton, Va) 5.9% abv, 12.99/6P
Touted as a "Strong Pale Ale," this one isn't fooling me; it's pure India. Nomenclature aside, Full Nelson pours clear amber with a thick head that subside to a thin layer of lacing.Hops take a back seat to bread crust and biscuit, but that doesn't mean we don't get any. Blue Mountain grows some of their own hops, as do I. The cascade vines my father and I harvested smelled like Thai peppers, and I'm getting a vague spiciness that I wouldn't be surprised if it was attributed to Virginia terroir.

Up front there is a floral quality, which gives way to breadcrust, which gives way to an acidic burst, finishing on toasted malt.

Quick Honey, Get the Cold Filter!

(For those of you acquainted to my weekly beer write-up for that wine shop tasting, this isn't new. Also, somehow it's kind of fitting that the first post for savingales should be on lager. Nowhere to go but up! Oh zymurgy.)


I'm going to own up. I like light lager. Not only do I like light lager, I think it's my favorite style of beer. Light lager was my(and I'm sure many of your) first beer; it was what turned me on to beer. I like nothing better than to sit down in front of the fireplace with Dan Brown's latest attempt and a warm lager in a wide-mouth chalice, mulling over all its intricacies (both the beer's and the novel's.)

And yes, I'm kidding. I'm in no danger of getting into an argument over whether I like my beer to be triple-hopped or beechwood aged, but I do respect the brewer that can make a beer with almost no taste. I've tried, and my beer was a yeasty, hoppy mess. The thing about light lager is that there are no big, stand-out flavors to hide any flaws. Unlike a roasty, boozy Imperial What-Have-You, the brewer needs to be meticulous in every part of the brewing process. Didn't sanitize properly? That bacteria infection is going to be really evident. Mash temperature to high? Be ready for an overly sweet, under-attenuated beer.

It's not easy to brew, and some might claim that it isn't even satisfying when it's done right, but remember that a real beer geek likes all beer, and realizes that there's a situation even for a lowly lager. Just not in front of a fireplace (and don't encourage Dan Brown.)