Besides waking up feeling like my brain had been stomped, drinking all that beer and wine made me especially sensitive to the plight of the little African kid on the Constant Gardner, I think I cried. Drink at your own risk. I hate that African brat.
Budwieser and the Beer Monks
Felecia and I went to the Blue Moon tonight after a little walk around the neighborhood. It was my first time out of the house all day. I had an IPA that was smooth and unmemorable except that it was cloudy and unfiltered. McMenamins changes their IPA every few months. I went off on how amazingly strange looking it is until Felecia told me that I said exactly the same thing to her last time I ordered it. That's how married conversation goes and only illustrates why I need this beer journal. I can't keep track of my shit. Now I'm enjoying an Old Boardhead.
Since I posted last I've had a twelve pack of Black Butte Porter and a six pack of Henry Weinard's Classic Dark. The Black Butte is one of my favorites; and it’s grown on me since I first tried it a couple years ago. Something about dark beers is intensely satisfying in the same was as red wine or an afternoon blowjob from someone you love. It makes me feel warm and content. Sheaf's Stout does the same.
The Classic Dark is less flavorful, and although it’s black, it has a light character. It’s my favorite Henry's, but seems half-assed in comparison. I've been told that Henry's is now owned by Budweiser. They used to brew downtown in Portland but now their beer is all shipped here from Washington and California. Budweiser wants part of the craft beer market. Now they make Bud Select. I’d be embarrassed to buy it. Does this make me a snob? It seems like all the great artistic accomplishments in modern American beer have come from small breweries owned by ambitious but ambivalent drunks who really love hops AND malt. They had a vision of uniquely gorgeous and loving beer and made it a reality. Modern-day monks they are.
Craft beer makes a statement for social justice. The worker deserves his or her pay. It’s about the quality of our lives. Budweiser is based on a philosophy that beer tastes bad, and should be made less beer-tasting, until they realized they're missing out on some cash. I say “Fuck that shit.”
Full Sail Brewery in Hood River OR makes a barley wine called Old Boardhead that I enjoy quit a lot. It's super hoppy with a crisp citris taste; its like a really chewy, superfreshIPA. The surface texture after the head melts off is syrupy like a malt liquor. Fred Meyer, the grocery store across the street, sells a big bottle, a pint and 9 oz I think, for $3.59 and the Handy Mart around the corner stocks it too. It's a lot of bang for your buck at over 9 alc./vol. Walking Man Brewing, right across the Columbia from Full Sail makes Knuckle Dragger, which is comparable. It was on tap at The Rose and Raindrop in Portland. I tried a new one the last week from Mad River Brewery in Hum bolt Co. CA called John Barleycorns Barleywine Style Ale. It's less hoppy and a little smokier. I'm afraid I couldn't tell you the IBU's or any brewmaster designations. It just makes me happy.
If you can find these beers I recommend all three. Let me know what you think. I got the Mad River one at Belmont Station in SE Portland, it's available at Liquid Solutions too.
The labels are from Cory and Nate's Beer Labels.
A brief history
I've been hitting the sauce pretty hard the last few weeks, actually, for about as long as I can remember. [not long at all]
Beer is one of my chief passions. About three months ago I got stoned enough that I passed out without a drink, but I've been true to my habit ever since. One of my first memories is waddling off with my dad's budwieser, nude but diaper. A few things have changed since then: although I still often drink in my underwear, I don't run with beer in hand and I don't drink Budweiser except at Beavs game, where, by the 7th inning I usually have half of it on my shirt. I'm a little spoiled.
Hopefuly I've proven my love for a frothy cold one. This blog is where my slow but joyous slide to cirrosis can be documented. Come along with me, and by 40 maybe you too will be consistently slurring your words and too shaky to piss straight in the morning. That sounds great.