Beer Blog

Jennandbeer.com

2010-04-19T13:58:00.002-06:00

Hey everyone,

Jenn and Beer has officially moved! Check out the new digs at www.jennandbeer.com.

Thanks!

Jenn

Native? Really?

2010-04-14T16:43:00.006-06:00

Here’s the thing about being native to Colorado. You have to be born here. If you were born somewhere else, you’re not a native. Exceptions can be considered for people who move to Colorado by the age of five. But we Coloradans, we’re pretty picky about the use of the word “native” and its application to our state.

So, when AC Golden Brewing released their Colorado Native lager, I was ready to judge.

Now the premise of this beer is that 99.8% of the ingredients come from Colorado: hops grown at employees’ homes, bottles from Rocky Mountain Bottling Co. in Wheat Ridge, barley from the San Luis Valley, even cardboard packaging from Temple-Island in Wheat Ridge.

I, of course, support the idea of locally grown ingredients – the premise behind it is to lower the carbon footprint of the beer. And Colorado Native is only available in, well, Colorado. So there’s a fun level of exclusivity when it comes to the beer distribution.

But here’s where I have an issue with the beer. In their promotion, the concept of the “Colorado native” is completely ignored by AC Golden. At the release party, there was a large sign describing the beer that asked “Are you a Colorado Native?” and then started its response with: “Being a Colorado Native isn’t really about where you were born; it’s more a state of mind.”

Lies, damned lies all around

Actually, being a Colorado Native is about where you were born. I’ll accept that being a Coloradan isn’t about where you were born; but as an actual, honest to God, native, I know how picky we natives are about using the term “Colorado native.” In most cases, we welcome new people to our state (unless you’re a Lakers fans. And with two days to go until the playoffs start, I’m really going to need the Lakers fans to get out. Now.), but that doesn’t make you a native.

The idea of a completely Colorado based beer appeals to me, a lot. As exciting as it is watching our breweries start distributing throughout the country, it’s nice to have something that’s meant to be exclusively for us back home.

But given how much attention AC Golden Brewing is putting towards its promotion -- much of the press its received has related to the concept and advertising of Colorado Native, rather than the beer itself, the failure in messaging really bothers me. Call it Coloradan Lager, something, anything, just not Colorado Native.

Now about the beer

The beer itself is a flavorful beer pong beer: better than Coors Light, but you wouldn’t mind throwing a dirty ping pong ball into it, then chugging it down without stopping to taste it. Quite frankly, my friends out of state aren’t missing much.

And has anyone else noticed how the packaging of the beer is remarkably similar to Breckenridge’s Avalanche?

Coors, I’m trying to get over my negative feelings towards you, but this Colorado Native thing isn’t helping your cause. Great idea, terrible execution.

If you want something more than just my "Colorado Native" rantings, here are links to a few articles that are more about the production of the beer:

Denver Business Journal

5280

Denver Post

I hope this doesn't make it snow

2010-04-14T15:18:00.011-06:00

Top Five Patios:

With spring peaking its head out in Colorado, and then getting smothered by another winter-that-just-won’t-quit, it’s time to think about warm weather drinking. And that means beer on patios.

One of my absolute favorite things to do is spend a warm summer evening enjoying beers on a patio with good company and, preferably, my dog. I obsess over it. When the weather starts to improve I neurotically check the forecast trying to determine when I can partake in this activity.

The criteria are as follows:

beer choice

atmosphere of patio

clientèle

is Sasha welcome?

service

food

Keep in mind, the descriptions and criteria highlight where this place stands out. If the patio doesn’t receive the “service” shout out, it doesn’t mean the service is bad, just not noteworthy.

So here are, in no particular order, my favorite patios around Denver:

1) Vine Street Pub

Good food (with good vegetarian options), great beer on a crowded, but not too crowded street. What more could you want? Oh that’s right, Sasha’s welcome there too, as long as she stays on the other side of the fence.

This is the first place my mind visits when the sun starts to shine. It might be a bit strong on the Grateful Dead/Phish theme, but I’ve never heard anyone criticize it for such, and that includes the friends of mine who shudder at the word “Boulder”.

The one drawback of Vine Street is I’m not the only person who thinks it’s the bees’ knees. I don’t remember the last time I went there and didn’t have to wait at least half an hour for a table. And when the weather improves, the wait only grows. Still, when I eventually get my patio seating, I’ve never regretted losing the time it’s taken to get there.

2) My Brother’s Bar

I’ve only sat on their patio once, but every time that I visit the bar in the winter, I inevitably mumble something about how I wish I could be sitting on the patio.

There are a series of wooden benches that blend naturally into the fence and environment of the stone paved patio. Vines wind over the walls, creating a more intimate atmosphere. The surroundings are like the perfect backyard for a neighborhood party.

The beer selection’s not amazing. I can always find something worth drinking, but it’s a destination I would choose for the atmosphere rather than to educate someone about beer. As for the food, well, all I can say is, this place makes me miss eating meat.

3) Max Gill & Grill

Another backyard type patio. Only this one feels like it should be in Louisiana or Florida. The décor is what you would expect if a Coloradan moved down south and opened up a bar on the waterfront: fairy lights, a few knickknacks without becoming kitschy, beat-up wooden fence and some special element that makes you feel like you’re on the bayou.

The food here is fantastic; it’s by far my favorite non-sushi place to go for seafood. In fact, I know that if I mention their lobster stew, I’ll get an angry “why’d you have to bring that up? Do you have any idea how much I miss it?!” message from a particular friend of mine currently residing in Iowa.

The drawback of Max as a summer beer-drinking patio is that it’s a restaurant. You can’t just sit and drink -- meals need to be ordered, tables need to be overturned. I’ve never been rushed out of the place, but it’s not like Great Divide where you can sit back, relax and drink for a few hours.

Which brings me to…

4) Great Divide

It goes without saying that great beer is drunk on this patio.

Now the environment isn’t the best – Great Divide isn’t in the best part of Denver, which means homeless people wandering past isn’t unheard of, but it’s not enough of an issue that it should deter anyone from going. And I’m fairly certain, though not positive, that Sasha would be allowed to visit Great Divide’s patio with me.

Its location is central enough that it’s a great place to grab a drink after work, but not in the heart of the city so you won’t find every other 9-5er there. Plus, the service is great – Jenny and Collin will get a little overwhelmed when there’s a rush and they don’t have additional help, but spend an hour or so there when the place is empty and they’ll make a point of saying hello the next time you come back.

5) The Meadowlark

I’m kind of cheating here. Their patio isn’t just a patio, it’s a venue. In fact, it was the 2009 Westword's Best Outdoor Stage. But considering the amount of time that I have spent at the Meadowlark this winter, I know this will be my most frequently visited patio this summer.

The patio is essentially the back yard (spend enough time there and you’ll run into at least one of the people who lives there), with a large wooden stage, sandstone tiles covering the ground (a common fixture in Colorado home patios).

In addition to that, the Meadowlark crowd is fantastic. The people are friendly and willing to chat – within a few visits, you start to feel a part of the scene.

The beer is better than I expect at venues, and there are rumors of beer being brewed on site in the future. But, obviously, the selection is nothing special. And considering the crowd of starving musicians that frequent the joint, I’d guess that more PBR is ordered in a night than any other beer is ordered in a week.

Honorable mention:

Appaloosa

-good beer selection, great people watching, good food

The Thin Man

-good beer selection, similar atmosphere to Vine Street, but without the food, Sasha’s allowed

-only drawback is the proximity to East and running into everyone I knew growing up when I go there.

The Freeman porch

-great environment, good company, usually good beer selection (menu changes), service could use improvement

2010-04-13T14:55:00.001-06:00

Random thought about Fat Tire

At the game last night I came up with what, in my opinion, is the perfect analogy for Fat Tire:

Fat Tire is to Nuggets games what hot dogs are to baseball games. Yes, there are better options out there; yes, it’s not the most tasty thing ever; but, in those particular circumstances, it’s the only thing that’s right.

In other news

Apologies, once again, for the lack of posts. Life has been getting in the way of me writing. But don’t fret; there will be so much beer blogging in the weeks to come you will miss the days of no-posts.

In fact, next Monday, I, with the help of Greggers, will be launching the Jenn and Beer website. The site will have all you could ever want to know about beer and if it doesn’t, let me know and I’ll find a way to change that.

So spread the word and help support your favorite beer blogger, as she starts this new phase of beer blogging.

A bar with no name

2010-03-16T23:01:00.003-06:00

Sam: What'll you have Normie?

Norm: Well, I'm in a gambling mood, Sammy. I'll take a glass of whatever comes out of that tap.

Sam: Looks like beer, Norm.
Norm: Call me Mister Lucky.

-Cheers

My friend told me that the bar was referred to a “Narnia.”

Kyle and I spent the drive questioning this. How on earth could a bar in Boulder be like Narnia?

When we arrived, the answer became obvious; we didn’t even need to discuss it. Walk in a random door between two restaurants on the Hill and you’ve completely escaped Boulder.

Even knowing about the bar and being relatively certain of its location, I wasn’t positive I was there. I called my friend to verify that I was in the right location. The sign on the door just says “Open Daily 4 p.m. – 1 a.m.” and has a small window with iron bars, as some sort of tribute to the days of speakeasies.

The place is beautiful – light wood paneling throughout the place, lovely sand-blasted glass lamps with dark steel fixtures – classy but homey in a style I have never before encountered in Boulder. The clientele was what I expected from Boulder when I was young and before I understood the term “college town” – old hippie types who seem more Coloradan than crazy acid heads. The younger crowd seemed like the kind of people I would have befriended, had I attended CU. They were certainly Colorado college students, but without the trustafarian or frat boy element.

The service was great, our waitress checked on our table at all the right times and even explained the neon sign in the window after overhearing us trying to guess what it was (I won’t tell, that’ll ruin the fun, but I will say Kyle was wrong).

The beer selection is a step above average: you have your regular taps – Guinness, Sierra Nevada, Harp, Bass, and two O’dells; then a few more interesting ones – seasonal Breckenridge IPA and Ska’s Modus Hoperandi. The bottled beer selection was more diverse with some typical brews and weaker beers, then Monty Python’s Holy Grale, Breckenridge’s 471, bombers of Avery’s Reverend and more. The rest of the menu was liquors and spirits, suggesting that their cocktails were good. After all, aren’t the best cocktails served at bars where there’s no menu listing what they can make?

I almost feel guilty talking about the bar – part of me fears that any publicity will lead to Narnia becoming just another quirky Boulder bar. But we drove 32 miles for the specific intention of visiting this place, so I’m writing about it, dammit. Expect to hear more about this bar, word will spread quickly – one of my friends decided it’s going to be his local from here on out. But for now, I’m leaving you pictures.

Arthur's craft

2010-03-16T22:52:00.006-06:00

"What'll you have?

I'll have a pint!

I'll have a pint with you, sir!"

-The Pogues

Before I knew anything about beer, I knew about Guinness.

The summer I turned 16, I went to Ireland with my parents and brother. About two weeks before we left, my brother called me and left a long babbling message about how excited he was for the trip. I remember nothing from the message itself, except one thing: he was DAMN excited to show me Guinness.

Ten years later and Guinness has kept a special place in my heart. I, by no means, love it the same way my brother does, or even as much as my mam, but I do have a strong appreciation for it. So when I received an email offering the chance to interview Fergal Murray, the master brewer of Guinness, I couldn’t believe it. I honestly did not believe the email. Thank God I have people like Greggers and Kyle to keep me in line and look into these sorts of things; otherwise it would have been one hell of a missed opportunity.

Fergal spends about two weeks of March traveling around the States each year – acting as the face of Guinness, while the eyes of the world turn to Ireland for Paddy’s day.

Actually, regardless of the season, much of his life is spent being the face of everyone’s favorite Irish stout. Fergal spends his time traveling the world – from Cork to Dallas to Sydney and everywhere in between – talking about what makes his beer so iconic.

Guinness is special, he says, because it gives people the ability to “cling on something from home; coming home to the emerald island. When they can get a pint of Guinness it connects one to Ireland; it gives them the community spirit. It’s a symbol of people who want to become Irish. But it’s also the quality of the product: the taste – that bold and distinctive taste. That’s why it sticks out to much.”

Much of the importance of Guinness, he says, relies on the visual impact of the craft. “You have to see it poured correctly. I don’t ever want to be disappointed by a bartender. It should be a work of art coming across the bar – the final top off the dome. The flavor’s the bonus. That’s what Guinness is about.”

With 250 years of brewing history, Arthur Guinness signed the lease for St. James Gate 17 years before America declared its independence, Guinness must be doing something right. Fergal tells me about how the stout has developed in the past two and a half centuries. “It got better. It has consistently improved. It’s a journey. If Arthur were around today he’d agree. The computer technology has improved, which affects the craft – it makes it easier to brew. The flavor recipe is exactly the same, but the consumers experience is so much more.”

So how does one obtain the “most envied job on earth?” “It’s about mastering a craft, understanding it and having that passion. Whether you’re making chocolate or fixing clocks, it’s about the passion, it’s about the beliefs and knowing why it’s such a great product.”

While the passion for Guinness shows in everything he says, Fergal’s love for his job is most apparent when he describes his travels, “The engagement is so cool: the passion of the people, the opportunities of pouring a perfect pint. Watching people obtain the bragging rights of pouring the perfect pint...”

Everywhere he goes, he says, he finds fantastic bars and delights in the experience of watching the training of the bartenders. “Getting it into the glass is the art, the same perfect way that they get it in the glass. I’m very content that you’ll get a great tasting pint no matter where you go.”

Fergal speaks highly of the stouts from the craft beer market, saying, “other breweries do a good job…it’s cool to see the distinctive flavors between them.” However, he insists that on Paddy’s day no beer other than Guinness should be drunk. “If anyone does something silly like drink a domestic American product on March 17^th, I’m certain St Patrick will come down and haunt you.”

While my experience with Catholicism has suggested no such thing, I trust Fergal on this one. Tonight, I’ll be drinking Guinness.

Happy Paddy's Day, everyone. And remember, clovers aren't Irish.

[Timothy, you can stop holding your breath now.]

Photo courtesy of Taylor Montgomery.

Cheese!

2010-03-16T12:57:00.000-06:00

"Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza."

-Dave Barry

I love cheese. To me, beer and cheese belong together. Great Divide apparently understands this. Once a month they, with the help of St. Kilian’s cheese shop, host a beer and cheese pairing. Five beers, five cheeses, one very happy Jenn.

We arrived late, probably around 6.30. The benefit of our tardiness was being seated in the brewery between the kegs and the Stranahan’s barrels used for oak aging the Yeti. Sure, I would see all this if I ever made it to Great Divide in time for the tour. But relaxing in the brewery, enjoying a drink and delicious cheese? Pretty close to perfect for me.

On to the pairings.

Starting in the middle and working around the photo clockwise, here’s a list of the cheeses and beers:

1) Tommy Crayeuse – Denver Pale Ale

2) Bucheron – Colette

3) Beemster – Titan IPA

4) Morbier – Hercules Double IPA

5) Valdeon – Oak Aged Yeti

With the exception of the Colette, I was quite familiar with all the beers. However, trying them with cheese was a different experience. I’ve always been prone to ignore the drink this beer/wine while eating this food guidelines. I want this beer and this food. Rarely do my choices pair well, but it’s what I want, so I’ll order it anyway.

I was surprised to discover how much one affected the other. The DPA was the same average DPA that I’ll occasionally drink. After a bite or two of the Crayeuse, it was much more exciting. I didn’t like the Beemster cheese much, but paired with the Titan, the flavor was greatly improved. And in the case of the Morbier and Hercules? They go together like Simon Pegg and zombie movies.

Seattle, Last Call

2010-03-14T17:11:00.004-06:00

She likes to think/she likes to drink

-Nirvana

We managed to fit in one last brewery visit before I had to go to the airport on Sunday: Big Time Brewing Company. Judging from the website, I expected this place to be like the Wynkoop. Instead it had the feel of a worn in country bar, complete with old advertising signs and aged wood paneling. I couldn’t quite figure out why the bar's logo is an elephant, nothing about this place seems remotely Asian/African or safari like. However, there was a giant dinosaur head mounted on the wall, so it’s pointless to try to make assumptions about this place. (Take a moment to pause and consider the idea of a dinosaur head mounted on the wall in a country-style bar. How great is that?)

I ordered the Atlas Amber Ale. (For some reason, I think my brother would like this beer. Someone must have said something about it sometime.) I wish I could remember the Atlas better, but all I have is what’s in my notes: “Amber’s good, fruiter than most. Weak fruit smell, relatively weak taste – but not necessarily a bad thing.”

It did make me realize that there was some underlying similarity among all the Seattle beers. No matter what I drank – stout or hefeweisen, there was some characteristic that unified all the beers. Justy suggested it was the water and he could very well be right. All I know is, there was something that connected all these beers together, some sort of underlying taste, and thinking about it further, I would say the same is true of Colorado craft beer.

As we discussed this, our conversation turned to beer culture. Justy (cautiously) asserted that Seattle has a stronger beer culture than Colorado. To his surprise (and relief), I agreed with him, but considered Seattle to be more of a beer community. Seattle, as a city, has the feeling of community running through it. Coloradans, while certainly friendly, are too independent to have a cohesive community. Even Denver is too sprawling too diverse to feel completely unified. And that applies to the beer culture as well. Picking up one of the beer newspapers available around Seattle left me feeling like I had tapped into (no pun intended) the Seattle beer community. There’s no equivalent to that back home – The Westword and 5280 are great publications and offer endless amounts of Colorado based information, but they don’t leave you feeling like you are necessarily a part of Colorado culture. Leaving Seattle I felt like I had experienced their beer community. And while there was still plenty of this beer culture for me to explore, I felt connected to it.

Someday I’ll be back for more.

Crawling through the Emerald City. A Seattle Six Shooter

2010-03-14T16:02:00.013-06:00

(Jenn's note: Apologies for my lack of posts. New job apparently means less time for blogging. I'm working on developing this balance, don't worry.)

I don’t think Justy knew what I had in mind when we started drinking Friday afternoon. Shortly after booking my flight to Seattle the week before, I started considering a Six Shooter for my last night there. When Justy and I started counting the bars and breweries we intended to visit that day, I realized we could actually accomplish it. Keeping it simple, the theme was Seattle beers. Not hard to accomplish when you’re visiting Seattle breweries.

1.18 p.m.
The Pike
1415 1st Ave. Seattle, WA

Pike XXXXX Extra Stout, $5

Something about this bar feels so very, very Seattle. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but to drive the point home, Nirvana starts playing as I try to describe the bar in my notes.

The walls are decorated like a Hard Rock type bar, with nick-knacks and paraphernalia all over the place. Only, instead of music or Americana themed decorations, it’s all Pike’s beer related. The bar is downstairs in a shopping center. There isn’t even a ceiling, just beams that create a sort of overhang. Looking through the ceiling of the bar, you can even see a clothing shop on the second level of the mall. It’s like the perfect escape for the guy who got dragged along shopping. I wish we had a bar like this back home; I might be more willing to shop if good beer was included.

Justy orders the IPA and I decide to try the XXXXX Extra Stout. Anything with that many xes in the title will either be awesome or terrible.

Justy told me that he likes the Extra Stout because of its strong chocolaty flavors. I refrain from looking at him like he’s crazy – all I’m getting from this beer is smoke. I mean charcoal-like smoke. Really nothing but smoke. About a third of the way through my pint, my palate adjusts to the smoke and the chocolate starts to make itself known; I guess there was more to the beer than just smoke. But I still think Justy’s crazy.

Halfway through my pint, I start counting the breweries we were planning to visit that afternoon: Pike, Pyramid, Elysian and Fremont. That’s four. And we had plans of going for drinks that night. Five pubs. Obviously I needed one more. I explain the situation to Justy, and he agrees. We left the decision for our last two destinations to a later time. But it was official: We were going Six Shooting.
3.15 p.m.

Pyramid Brewery

Alehouse Amber Ale, $5, and free tasters(!)

Pyramid is not a brewery that I would rank highly on my Breweries I Respect list. It produces a lot of mediocre beers. They have good starter-beers – something you’d suggest to someone who insists that they don’t like beer, if you’re determined to prove them wrong. Visiting the brewery changed my opinion of Pyramid quite a bit.

The atmosphere of the place strongly resembles New Belgium, if New Belgium were more restaurant than tap house. Light wood, slight industrial feel, copper pipes and decorations, high ceilings with huge windows peering into the brewery.

My rule about beer is always order what you haven’t had before. If there’s a beer that is only available on site, I must drink that. Alehouse Amber was an Alehouse exclusive. So I was obligated to order it. While I perused the menu for food, Justy started chatting with the bartender. Apparently it was a worthwhile conversation – when I looked up there were three eight-ounce tasters sitting in front of us.

I failed to write down anything about the Alehouse Amber and only noted two of the three tasters, but Justy and I agreed that the beers available at the brewery were by far the best Pyramid brews we’d found. That being said, two of the samples were from MacTarnahan’s brewery in Portland (I *will* visit that brewery someday).

The waitress tells us that Spine Tingler, a MacTarnahan’s brew with a dragon’s head tap (yes, that *is* why we ordered it), is 9% ABV. As a result, there’s a two pint limit. I appreciate the let’s-keep-people-from-getting-too-drunk efforts, but I can’t imagine this happening at a place like Great Divide. An image of a particular friend of mine being limited to two Hercules pops in my head: “what do you mean ‘only two pints’?!” It wouldn’t go over well. Ah well, Coloradans are a different breed of people.
4.23 p.m.

Elysian Brewery

Bye-bye Frost (failed to notice the price, it was Justy’s round)

When I was on the Obama campaign my producer would frequently quote “Ghostbusters” saying, “Jenn has gone bye-bye, Egon.” The description for Elysian’s Bye-Bye Frost was “Too much Bye-Bye will make you gone gone.” Thinking of Greggers, I couldn’t pass up ordering this beer.

The beer is 10.6% ABV and other than that I have nothing to say about it. It’s a standard pale ale. That’s all I’ve got. For comparison, Great Divide’s Hercules is 10% ABV and Espresso Yeti is 9.5%. Strong beers, yes, but I don’t immediately worry about them making me “gone gone.” (For reference, see above.) And they’re more exciting than Bye-Bye. The Coloradans win on this one.

Lacking anything more to say about my beer, I’ll talk about the brewery and the other beers. The place reeks of malt. The thing about that smell is, as an avid beer drinker, you come to love it. It’s like dating a smoker – no matter how much you want to dislike the smell, you’re attracted to it because of what it represents.

There are gigantic windows peering into the vats of brewing beer. As I sipped my Bye-Bye Frost, I watched one of the brewers climb a ladder up the vat and proceed to tend to his craft. From a beer drinker’s perspective, nothing beats watching beer get brewed while drinking it from a few yards away. Actually brewing the beer yourself probably tops this, but it’ll still be a little while until I can vouch for that.

We met up with two of Justy’s friends, who did a better job of choosing beers than I did. Justy, showing a bit of his Colorado roots, ordered the Trip V – a New Belgium and Elysian collaboration. The waitress and my friend explain how New Belgium and Elysian have been working together for the past year and a half to help promote their beers in a more environmentally friendly way. I’d heard a bit about New Belgium’s work with other breweries on their tour, but hadn’t seen it in practice. I was delighted to see how well it worked – Trip V was a gorgeous chocolate cherry brown ale, like a liquid Godiva truffle.

While we all agreed on the Trip V, I was the only one who enjoyed the XOXO Chocolate Chili Stout that one of the friends ordered. This was my first chili stout and I found it incredibly interesting. The flavor had a chocolate front with a sharp chili back. I don’t know if I could drink an entire pint of it and certainly didn’t love it as much as Golden City’s Javapeno, but it was exciting to try.
6.38 p.m.

Fremont Brewery

Little Woody $5

Justy and I stopped by Fremont the day I arrived in Seattle to find out what time their tasting sessions took place. Between our brief visit and Friday night, I had thought of little else but going back to Fremont. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I was excited about this brewery.

It’s a warehouse, just like Great Divide’s (random note: how many times can I bring up Great Divide in a post, sheesh!), but without a tap room. Walk in the door and you are surrounded by kegs, barrels and vats. During our visit on Wednesday a man, who we guessed was the master brewer, explained that the hours of drinking at the brewery were limited because of the liability it created: they were concerned that people visiting might get injured by forklifts when the brewery was in operation. That’s how small a place this is.

Considering the size of the crowd, Fremont won’t last much longer at such a small location. The picnic tables (held up by kegs) were full and the line for beer wound through the brewery. It was easy to imagine that during the summertime people would spill out onto the sidewalk through the garage door of the warehouse. Even on a February night, a cluster of people gathered on the sidewalk outside. Between that and the dogs and children wandering around the place, the brewery felt like a block party.

Little Woody was as unique a beer as the “bar” that served it. It’s based off Fremont’s flagship beer, Universale Pale Ale, but aged with medium-toast American White Oak, dryhop with Chinook Hops. I still don’t know enough about hops and the beer brewing process to comment on the production of Little Woody, but however they make it, they need to keep doing it. If Jameson made a beer, this is what it would taste like. It’s light, smells of wood with flavors of whiskey and honey. It’s amazing.

If I forget everything else that happened in Seattle, this is the one experience I want to remember.
10.15 p.m.

Naked City

Naked City Desantis $4.50

We took a break for dinner and Olympics after Fremont. Probably a good thing too, anything after the last bar was bound to disappoint.

Naked City took me back to the days of Justy living in Denver. It felt like the Thin Man, only bigger and without the Jesus paraphernalia.

Justy tried to tell me about how Naked City isn’t a brewery, but they have beers brewed for the bar offsite. About halfway through the explanation a bright shiny object distracted me or maybe I started reading at the chalkboard listing their beer selection, but something happened that made me tune out.

We played cards and talked beer. We ordered a Jubel 2010 so I could finally try it. Again, fruity beers and I don’t get along. But it made me like the Desantis a lot more. Overall, a relatively unremarkable experience. Guess that’s what happens when you break up the Six Shooter over 10 hours.

Aside from the selection of beers, I wasn’t too impressed with the bar. I wrote in my notes “I wonder how I’d feel about it in Denver.” Too much time has passed between writing that and now, as a result I can’t remember what I meant by that. The rest of my notes were random comments and questions: “have I had many Belgian style reds?”, “second time we’ve heard the modest mouse ‘all all something all right’ song tonight,” “total beginners luck at ‘Oh Hell’” things of that ilk. It was time to move on and finish up the night.
11.10 p.m.

Pillager's Pub

Black Boney Porter $4.50

This place was ridiculous. It was situated in a building that looked like one of the new brick structures on Broadway in Denver. The inside was like Black Bart from Casa Bonita had opened a bar: horrible wood paneling, silly pirate flags, netting, murals and fairy lights, complete with a little toy cannon. Again, this place was ridiculous.

I didn’t bother to find out about the beer. It obviously had some specific relationship to the bar, but couldn’t have been brewed onsite. Frankly, I don’t care enough to find out. Fruit forward, smoke back. Not what I want in a porter. I wrote in my notes “some fruity theme based on Caribbean/pirate beer?” Judging from my comment, I must have found the others’ beers to be just as excessively fruity as my own. The flavors fit the porter about as well as the music fit the bar (back to back Johnny Cash songs, on a Friday night, in a pirate themed bar. Really?). I wasn’t having it. Drank up, headed home.

At least Casa Bonita has cliff divers.

Swapping up the order of things

2010-02-25T00:48:00.004-07:00

“May your Guardian Angel be at your side to pick ya up off the floor and hand ya another cold stout from the store”

-Anonymous toast

I have two posts left about Seattle and another one about Denver, but I just returned from Vine Street where they’re holding Stout Month for all of February. (It’s also being held at Mountain Sun and Southern Sun for those of you northwest of Denver.) I’ve been meaning to return there since the beginning of the month, but time’s been escaping me. So tonight I met an old friend to catch up over some tasty dark beer. As a result, I'm neglecting the other posts and focusing on my new favorite thing about February.

Vine Street has a full sheet (front and back) listing and describing the beers offered during the month. My issue with this, and I admit it’s a purely selfish one, is that each night only ten of these beers are available – five Mountain Sun brews and five guest beers. Fortunately, there were more than enough beers on tap tonight that I wanted to try. Sara and I ordered four eight-ounce beers a piece, sticking to the stouts the other wasn’t drinking. She sampled the Mountain Sun drinks and I took the guest route.

So here are my thoughts on the four:

1) Deschutes The Abyss 2009 Reserve

I expect a beer with “Reserve” in its title to be something special. I also usually enjoy and respect Deschutes’ beers. The Abyss was good, but to my palate it was little more than a traditional stout – strong smoky flavor, fruity smell which develops into a taste as you drink more of the beer. It was good, but certainly not memorable.

The website describes the beer as one with “immeasurable depth… [with flavors that] draw you in further and further with every sip.” It also has an impressive ABV at 11%, making it strongest beer I’ve encountered in awhile. I wouldn’t have expected the alcohol content to be that high, which speaks positively of the flavor.

The Abyss was released for the fourth time on November 3^rd of last year and is a limited release, coming out about once a year. Knowing this, I’m glad I tried it. But, again, of the four I tried this evening, it will be the first I forget.

2) Left Hand’s Fade to Black Stout

From the first sip I felt like I was stepping up the stouts. This may not be a better stout by professional standards, but it was certainly more interesting than the Abyss. And when you drink as many stouts as I do, “more interesting” often means better.

Fade to Black had a creaminess that is comparable to a milk stout, without the thick whole-milk like quality that makes a milk stout so dense. The smell was sweet, with a hint of fruit similar to the flavor of dried strawberries. The smoky flavor is more subtle than most stouts and is more of an aftertaste than anything else. But it stays with you after each sip. Of the four, this was definitely the beer I most wanted to savor.

3) Golden City Javapeno

Recently, my boyfriend has been obsessed with Golden City. For the past couple weeks, I’m fairly certain he’s brought it up every time I’ve seen him. I’ll refrain from discussing the actual brewery until he actually takes me there, but as a result, the name sticks out. Even then, I would probably order a stout called “Javapeno” regardless of where it was brewed. I mean it’s coffee and spicy things in a beer. Pair it with cheese and all of my favorite things are covered. (I wonder if Golden City does beer and cheese nights…)

Considering the name, the flavor of the beer was calmer than I would expect. It had a smoky front, with hints of java and chili. It certainly lacks the grab-hold-of-your-tongue-and-make-you-curse intensity that I have encountered in every other chili beer I have had. But the flavor grows. It stays on your tongue, subtly. It never becomes overwhelming, but the chili characteristics certainly are there. The java even compliments the chili creating a very comfortable complexity. With its creamy texture, it was the first chili beer I could drink a full pint of, and even consider ordering a second.

4) Nitro Young's Double Chocolate Stout

After the Javapeno I didn’t expect to find anything better. The list said this was one of their biggest selling beers during stout month, but I know I don’t think like other people, so my expectations were not that high. Oh boy, was I wrong.

Foamy alcoholic chocolate milk. That’s what this beer is. In the best of ways. The beer is soft, not smooth, but soft on the tongue. It smells of chocolate, with a slight hint of fruit. The taste has a slight smoky touch to it, supporting the chocolate, and develops into a beautifully complex alcoholic chocolate milk. Damn it’s good. Drink this beer.

I will finish the posts on my Seattle trip soon and catch up on the other Colorado drinking events that have happened since I returned. But, for the time being, if you like dark beers and are within driving distance of Denver or Boulder go to Stout Month. Seriously, go. Now. And when you get back, let me know what you thought. I certainly enjoyed it.

(A note about the photo: Sara would like me to let everyone know she had gone through a long day of class and work before meeting me.)

Seattle -- Second Round

2010-02-19T11:26:00.004-07:00

"What does it take / To get a drink in this place" -Postal Service

Libby’s primary concern was finding a bar where we could watch the Nuggets game. She admitted that she wasn’t certain of the beer selection while driving me to Jillian’s. Given I am in Seattle, and they seem to be rather proud of their beer here, I assumed there would be *something* on tap I hadn’t had before. I just hoped it was something good.

Jillian’s is a chain of Dave and Busters-like pool halls. I had been to one before, just can’t remember where. That’s the thing about Jillian’s – it doesn’t matter what city you’re in, they’re all the same. But tonight was about two things: Libby and the Nuggets beating the Cavs (she says confidently after watching Melo sink a winning shot over Lebron in overtime). And yes, there was good beer there that I hadn’t had before.

Mac & Jack’s African Amber

Libby was surprised that this beer was new to me. I guess it’s a pretty big deal out here. Let’s see, locally brewed amber ale that’s frequently on tap… I won’t say it, but you know what I’m thinking. This beer actually reminded me more of Avalanche than Fat Tire. There was a slight citrus front to it, which, as far as I can recall, I’ve never come across in an amber before. But it works.

The commercial description says that “no visit to the great beer city of Seattle is complete without a couple of pints of this magnificent amber ale.” Yes, I very much liked it. Yes, I am glad I tried it, especially considering its apparent fame in Seattle. But I’m here for three days; I’m moving on to my next drink. (Once again, lacking photos of Seattle, here’s me with a lion cub in Africa.)

Red Hook Mudslinger/Nut Brown Ale

There should be an experiment where someone tests how much I like my beer based on whether or not the Nuggets are winning. Actually, I can think of someone who I imagine would do a very good job of determining this. African Amber? We were up somewhere between five and ten points. I ordered the Mudslinger right about the time that the Cavs had their first lead that I had seen in the game.

Maybe it’s the fact that I see the words “nut” and “ale” and expect Tommyknocker’s Maple Nut Ale or maybe it’s the fact that I have no tolerance for us losing our lead in the second half. But I was not impressed by this beer. The website lists it as “medium body,” I found it lighter than that. A little watered down almost. The flavor was sweet and nutty, but it got too sweet at times. A pruney taste surfaced from time to time, not something I want in a nut ale. So I decided to chance the hefeweizen.

Pyramid’s Haywire Hefeweizen

Back home, at least among my friends, Pyramid brewery is known for its Apricot Ale. We’re a unique bunch though, so this might just be us. I can’t say that I have had any of Pyramid’s other beers. (I do hear that they have an amazing brewery tour, but something tells me that I won’t be making it there today.) I also don’t like hefeweizens, at least usually. The one thing I tend to not tolerate in beers, on a personal level, is that weird taste in heavily unfiltered beers. Hefeweizens more or less guarantee that flavor, so I tend to avoid them. I know, it’s a problem I have, I’m trying to get over it. This beer, however, didn’t have that taste. As a result I liked it, I felt like I was cheating, but I liked it (and no, the Nuggets weren’t necessarily winning. Damn, Lebron is a hell of a player).

Haywire, it turns out, won the gold for 2009 American-Style Wheat Beer with Yeast at GABF. This makes me feel justified in liking the beer, but also given the title of the prize, it’s obviously not a real hefeweizen. The beer reminded me of Breckenridge’s Agave Wheat, only lighter – one of those rare times when lighter is actually better. It was less filling than Agave while maintaining the citrus-sweetness, but not in an overwhelming way like Michelob’s Shock Top or Lienenkugel’s Sunset Wheat.

I finished it shortly after Melo sunk his winning two-pointer with only seconds to go.

I like Seattle.

Seattle -- First drinking session

2010-02-18T14:25:00.012-07:00

"Watch the nightly news and drink a beer...

Like I could even change the world, yeah right..."

-Pearl Jam

We got suckered into the Olympics. And by “we” I mean “Justy and his friends”. Sure it’s interesting to watch in passing, but I’m not a big Olympics person. As a result, the first beer I drank in Seattle was pulled out of Justy’s fridge, while the guys discussed how amazing and attractive Lindsay Vonn is.

Snoqualmie Steam Train Porter

Of the beers I tried last night, this was my favorite. It’s a flavorful porter – strong tastes of chocolate and coffee, with fruity prune taste that develops as you drink it. The aftertaste was one of the best I have encountered, like sipping a well roasted coffee (I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Seattle beer reminds me of good coffee). I am surprised it isn’t actually an espresso porter, but the flavor is derived from chocolate, brown and crystal malts, or at least that’s what the website tells me. That being said, it was lighter than a lot of the porters I’ve been drinking, something I could consistently drink through a night. Part of this may relate to the ABV, which is only 5%. For comparison, my favorite espresso beer, Espresso Oak Aged Yeti Stout, is 9.5%. I’m not sure how much that affects the flavor, it’s a question I’ll leave for another post; I am on holiday after all. (Rico, if you’re reading this, you have any answers?)

Brouwer’s Cafe

Eventually the boys managed to pull themselves away from Lindsay Vonn’s post-winning-the-gold freak out and we headed out to my first Seattle bar. Brouwer’s Café is, from what I can tell, like Falling Rock, only not in Lodo and with a strong Belgian theme. Once I recovered from the fact that there were no Colorado beers on tap (Justy assures me this is not usually the case), I stopped to take it all in. The website says they have 64 beers on tap and over 300 bottles. From what I could see, this was indeed the case. (Again though, 64 beers on tap and not one of them is from Colorado? All right, I’ll settle down.)

The atmosphere of the bar certainly appeals to me: big stone wall, industrial styled coolers – an overall cave-like feel. But it was too big. I can understand that, as a restaurant, it needs to accommodate a lot of people, which could explain the size. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time at the Meadowlark, or expect a bar with that sort of beer selection to be more intimate like the Brickskeller in D.C., but something about this bar just felt so manufactured. The Macaroni Grille as a lovely décor, until you realize that every other Macaroni Grille in the country looks the exact same. Something about Brouwer’s felt like there were more Brouwer’s out there that looked the exact same. It didn’t feel unique.

A side note that may have affected my opinion of this place and then I’ll get back to beer. The bartender took awhile to decide if my ID was actually me. Yes, I understand he’s doing his job. But just because my ID is from Colorado and my hair is no longer black (he should be happy it’s not purple), does not mean that I’m not me. ::sigh::

I did like this bar though. Any place that has as nearly many beers available as days in a year is good in my book. And a place that frequently rotates their taps makes me want to return. Plus they had a GABF sticker (Great American Beer Fest, for those of you who haven’t heard me refer to this festival a million times over already) above the bar. That helped to compensate for the lack of Colorado beers on tap.

Moving on…

I let the boys decide on my beer. As long as it was from Seattle, I was happy. Well, from Seattle and good, but Justy knows better than to order me bad beer.

After much discussion, primarily of beers the boys wished were on tap, I ended up with Schooner 3 Grid IPA. Turns out, this is the flagship brew of West Seattle’s Schooner Exact Brewery. The website describes it as “fine tuned…to have the hop aroma and flavor to please true hopheads, but balanced enough to enjoy all night long.” My take on it was that it was too bitter without any additional flavors to balance it out. Near the end of the glass I started picking up on more of the floral citrus taste, but a beer shouldn’t take that long to taste good.

Justy ordered an IPA from Oregon that was significantly better. And, let me just say, he’s lucky he’s not David, otherwise I certainly would have swapped the beers – without his permission.

Tonight it’s Libby’s turn to show me the wonders of the beer in this city (as well as some other non-beer related things). Tomorrow is brewery tours and more beer with Justy. If you have suggestions of particular beers I should try, leave them in the comments or email me. Remember, though, I leave on Saturday.

By the way, has anyone noticed that I haven’t mentioned the Nuggets in two posts? Crap, screwed that up. And yes, I will be the awkward girl in the bar tonight asking that one of the TVs be changed from the Olympics to the Nuggets/Cavs game. But Coach Karl did once coach the Sonics; so really, the people of Seattle should be on my side on this one.

(Note about the photos: I forgot to bring the cord that connects my camera to my computer and didn’t think to take photos with my blackberry last night. So, until I get home, the photo for this post is not of Seattle or bars here, it’s of Justy playing with an oven mitt. Those of you who know him will at least be entertained. The second one is a photo of IPAs from the Six Shooter last month)

In the steps of my favorite Denverite

2010-02-17T18:36:00.004-07:00

"Just ahead, over the rolling wheatfields all golden beneath the distant snows of Estes, I'd be seeing old Denver at last. I pictured myself in a Denver bar that night, with all the gang, and in their eyes I would be strange and ragged like the Prophet who has walked across the land to bring the dark Word, and the only Word I had was 'Wow!' - Jack Kerouac, "On the Road"

I have this obsession with Neal Cassady. A rather large one. To the extent that John Leland once told me to be careful about it. The obsession has settled down quite a bit since my early 20s but I still have this unnatural affection for Neal and the places in Denver where he used to hang out. My favorite of all these places, surpassing Charlie Browns or even my own high school (I think he attended it for two years; he obviously didn’t graduate), is My Brother’s Bar.

It’s been nearly a year since my last visit. It’s a difficult for me to go there after giving up meat; kind of like spending time on an awesome smoking patio after recently giving up smoking – too much temptation. I miss the Ralphie Johnny burger, I’ll admit it. If I ever start eating meat again, that will probably be where it starts. Anyway, that’s why I haven’t been there in so long.

This particular night I had already eaten a ridiculous amount of Vietnamese appetizers, so when my friend suggested burgers and beer, I decided it was time to return to My Brother’s Bar.

The bar can be described in four words: old, dark, wooden and classical music. Okay, five words. The classical music is an important feature though. For one, the music softly escaping the speakers outside the entrance is one of the only ways to verify that the bar is open without actually checking the door. From the outside, it never looks open. But the music also defines the bar. What other burger joints do you know play Beethoven?

By the time I arrived, Liz had already made friends with the bartenders. So I plopped down in the barstool next to her and handed her new friend my ID.
Of all my visits to this place, this one made me feel closest to my favorite Beat. Before this, I had never sat at the bar before. It’s a whole different experience. I can’t imagine the bar itself has changed much since Neal’s day. The cash register is one of those old school machines with the nickel-sized buttons that resembles Denver’s most famous sky scraper. The kind that take as much time to process one entry that a modern day machine takes to total an entire order.

It’s easy to imagine the laid-back bar staff allowing a remarkably charming, broke man to run up quite a tab here back in the day. They chatted with us quite a bit and even made jokes when I started taking photos of the bar. I’ve never had problems with the service here, but sitting at the bar there’s a new level of friendliness – like what you’ll find at a touristy bar, without the we’re-trying-to-prove-how-awesome-our-city-is element.

When one of the bartenders started putting a cocktail together for someone else Liz asked what he was making. I’m certain that our expressions showed familiarity with the drink when he responded “lemondrop martini.” Even then, he poured us small servings of the drink, claiming he made too much. Maybe I’ve been visiting the wrong bars, but this has only happened to me in Denver when I’ve already made friends with the bartenders.

My intention was to talk extensively about IPAs, focusing on O’dell’s, the beer I was drinking that night, but I got caught up talking about the bar. But this visit changed my perspective of the restaurant – now I can see it as just a bar, and a bar worth visiting.

And if I get hungry, the jalapeno poppers are still damn good.

Time to answer some questions

2010-02-09T17:37:00.008-07:00

My old friend anonymous sent me a number of queries last week. So to prevent him from feeling like a mangy cat, I’m going to go through the list and attempt to calm his puzzled mind. (I'm not sure why, but for some reason this photo seems appropriate.)

If you had to pick a city or town in America as the microbrew capital what would it be?

It’s hard for me to give up on Colorado so quickly, but limiting the question to a city or town rather than a state makes it hard to choose my home. Colorado breweries are scattered all over the state – Fort Collins, Denver, Boulder, Colorado Springs, all worthy beer towns. If all of their breweries were in one location, then I would claim that location as the microbrew capital. But since there is, at least, two hours worth of driving between Fort Collins and Colorado Springs, I can’t claim them as one town (and can you imagine the uproar if Boulder and Colorado Springs were considered to be the same place?).

So, with a limited knowledge of other towns’ microbrewing feats (I understand that Ashville, NC is making quite a name for itself), I’ll go with Portland. After all, they do have the most microbreweries per capita.

I will be visiting Seattle in a week’s time, so expect some reviews of out-of-state beer in the near future. (For some reason, Anonymous, I feel like you would appreciate me visiting there.)

I’m also going to take this opportunity to share one of my favorite moments from my drinking with strangers escapade last weekend. Rico, one of the most knowledgeable beer drinkers I have encountered, said the following:

“In Colorado, we like our beer if it’s good and it gets us drunk, which is a little harder for us since we’re used to the altitude. In Portland, they think they’ve found beer nirvana. In San Diego, it’s all surfer dudes who are like ‘we like beer!’” And then in Ashville they’re like “Rawr! Beer!”

Moving on…

How about more in your turf - which city or town in Colorado is the best for beer - Denver? Boulder? Fort Collins? Explain.

This is another question I will want to re-visit after a bit more exploration. But for now, here’s my two cents:

When I first think of Colorado beer, Fort Collins comes to mind. However, in consulting the beer map, it turns out this town has only six breweries. The reason it seems like such a beer-haven is it homes three of Colorado’s largest breweries: New Belgium, O’dells and the Colorado branch of Anheuser-Busch. In addition to this, three of the first Colorado breweries that I came to love (again New Belgium and O’dells as well as Fort Collins Brewery) are located up there.

Boulder steps it up a bit with ten breweries in the city and another few scattered in the neighboring towns, such as Broomfield and Longmont. What limits Boulder from being the microbrew capital of Colorado is the unfamiliarity of a lot of these breweries. Of those located in

Boulder city itself, I would only expect Avery Brewing and perhaps Boulder Beer or Twisted Pine to be known by the non-fanatic beer drinkers. I may be misjudging the popularity of Boulder breweries, and would not be surprised to find CU alums arguing with me about this, but when I started really drinking beer, these were the breweries I knew.

I will add that Upslope Brewing Company, which is located in Boulder, is starting to get a lot of attention. I recently tried their pale ale (leaving the review of it for a later post) and expect this to become one of Colorado’s biggest beers. But again, you’ll have to wait to find out more.

Denverites don’t really approve people from the suburbs claiming Denver as home. And I will readily admit that I am one of those Denverites. Because of this, I have to now limit Denver breweries to, well, Denver. This means I can only claim ten breweries to be Denver based, instead of including an additional ten or so by allowing a place like Littleton to be considered part of Denver. That being said, I am also the most familiar with Denver breweries and brew pubs, because they’re only a few miles away at most. And we do have a mighty good selection: Great Divide, Bull and Bush, Wynkoop, two outlets belonging to Breckenridge Brewery, the former home of Flying Dog. I could go on. Just by considering all of these, I have to claim my hometown as the Colorado beer haven.

The short of it is this: If you’re spending a short time in Colorado and looking for beer, there’s more than enough to see in Denver. If you have a week, make sure you take a day or two to visit Fort Collins, Boulder and any of the surrounding towns so you can get the full Colorado beer experience (or as much of it as you can). I will obviously be talking a lot more about Colorado microbrew standings when I tour the state visiting breweries (something in my not-too-distant plans). But for now, I’m giving Denver the gold.

Is Left Hand a Denver brew? How about Tommyknockers?

Left Hand is brewed out of Longmont (a town outside Boulder for my non-Coloradan readers). If included in Boulder’s list of breweries, it certainly ups Boulder’s standing in my Colorado beer-town rankings. It's logo alone is found throughout Colorado, and once I even saw it it Ireland.

Tommyknocker is from a lovely mountain town, (known to Denverites as the place to stop for pizza on the way back from Winter Park) Idaho Springs. I love Tommyknocker and I love Idaho Springs. Returning to my advice for people visiting Colorado – spend an afternoon in Idaho Springs. It’s only an hour out of Denver and you can try great mountain pizza (Beau Jos flagship restaurant is there) as well as visit one of my favorite breweries with the views of a beautiful mining town in the background. Seriously, go there.

What's the deal with Fat Tire? People love this beer and I frankly don't care for it. (though I do like 2 Below) Do you like Fat Tire? I mean, every time I try it I am disappointed. Is that just personal taste, or is Fat Tire in fact a mediocre beer?

Remember Rico? (If not, you have a terrible memory; he was quoted only a couple hundred words ago.) He doesn’t like Fat Tire either. Prior to Saturday, I may have thought you were crazy, but between you and Rico’s opinions, I’m reconsidering it.

For me, Fat Tire is a constant safe bet. It’s what I drink at the Pepsi Center during Nuggets games (only non-Coors or Bud tap available). It’s something that’s easy to find and you know what you’re ordering. That being said, no, it’s not a remarkable beer. However, the lack of complexity means I can have a few of them and not feel like I’m overwhelming my tongue or cheating it out of an actual beer. So I’ll keep drinking it, when there’s not a more exciting choice. When there are more exciting choices, I’ll let you know all about it, in hopes that you'll enjoy it too.

Thanks for all your questions. As always, feel free to leave more in the comments or email them to me.

Oh, and Anonymous, can you get that dear friend of yours some River Horse to bring to Denver? It isn't distributed here.

Drinking with Strangers

2010-02-07T23:13:00.002-07:00

"Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza."

-Dave Barry

About a week ago, one of the people who runs Denver Six Shooter – from here on out known as the Colonel – sent me an invite to a beer stunt at Ernie’s (a bar on Federal that has 30 beers on tap). The idea of this beer stunt was we’d break up into two teams of three, each team would choose a side of the line of taps and move their way to the middle. Two teams, three people, thirty taps, five ten-ounce beers a piece. (Don’t worry; it was over a couple of hours.) Keep in mind that I had never met these people before.

The night beforehand the Nuggets beat the Lakers – without Melo, in L.A. after a couple of bad games. And Kyle wanted to go to a gig at the Meadowlark that night. So I drank a bit more than I had initially intended. The next morning I wasn’t hung over, but I was tired. And I wasn’t eager to get up to go drinking with people I didn’t know, even though I was excited to meet them. Yet someone insisted I go drinking with these strangers, more or less pushing me out the door of my house. And I went.

And here’s the purpose of this post: beer brings people together. It’s not something I expected.

I love my life in Colorado, but after so many years of living in different countries and different cities, I’ve had a difficult time of putting together a social circle. I have a few key people here: my best friend, my boyfriend, some other characters who keep my life entertaining (you know who you are). But I’m a social person, I feel most comfortable with a group of close friends. And I’ve been looking for that since I came home.

I’m not saying that Saturday fixed this for me, but I find it remarkable how easy it is for people to unite over beer. This wasn’t the first time. I’ve been in an incredibly diverse group of people, who had nothing more in common than the people who brought them there, and watched as the topic of beer united all of them. It’s an amazing social lubricant, not just as an alcohol that puts away social fears, but as one that creates a conversation topic where there may have not been one before.

I’ll post more about the beer stunt later, but for now, those are my thoughts.

Some thoughts about Stouts (and brown ales and porters)

2010-02-05T20:21:00.001-07:00

"A quart of ale is a dish for a king."

-William Shakespeare

It used to be that when I went out drinking and decided to consult my server about which beer I should drink the following exchange would happen:

Me: so I’m a big beer drinker, what would you recommend?

Server: Um, what kind of beers do you like?

Me: Anything as long as it’s filtered and good.

Server: *looks confused, eventually finds something on the menu to suggest. Eight times out of ten, I had drunk the beer before.*

Recently though, I’ve realized I prefer darker beers. Unless one of my favorite lighter beers is offered, I find myself almost always choosing a brown, porter or stout. I’d be tempted to give my brother credit for my attachment to such beers – he’s one of the biggest Guinness drinkers I know (Timothy, I mean you love your Guinness, not that you are a huge human being); however, he doesn’t like dark beers all that much. I heard him say, and I quote, “I’m just not much of a porter or stout drinker.” I suppose when I felt myself physically react to those words, I should have known I was developing rather strong feelings for the malty variety.

(Side note: I’m curious to see how much of this relates to the weather. Last spring, there was an actual moment in time where I stopped ordering Tommy Knocker’s Maple Ale at my best friend’s bar because it was too heavy for the sunny weather. Paired with this is some vague recollection of missing the darker brews during this time. Someone remind me of this when spring hits.)

On that note, here are a few brief reviews of some dark beers I’ve been drinking:

The Wynkoop’s McKenzie’s Milk Stout. The other milk stout I am certain I have tried is LeftHand’s Milk Stout, and I remember liking that as well. Unfortunately, it’s been some time since I tried it, so I can’t quite compare the two. McKenzie’s was incredibly smooth and easy to drink. Quite possibly the smoothest drink I’ve found -- the beer pours down your throat like milk. It has a subtle smoky taste, but tastes sweet if you leave it on your tongue. It’s by far one of the more memorable beers I’ve had in the past few months.

Another Wynkoop brew I’ve tried recently was the B3K Schwartzbier. I know I’ve had it before, but I haven’t paid much attention to it until now. Even this time I didn’t take notes (yes, yes, I know, I should take notes, but there was a Nuggets game on and I was deep in conversation with a friend of mine). Mostly, I remember it as smoky: another beer trait I’m starting to realize I strongly favor. It’s the kind of beer I would drink when I’m craving Ellie’s, but want something a little different. Worth noting, it received the 2008 Gold medal from Great American Beer Fest for the German Schwartzbier category. (In some later post, I’m going to delve into the world of GABF awards. I think it’s something to explore.)

Finally, tonight I returned to the world of Lost Abbey. Mountain Sun/Vine Street, a Boulder based brewpub, is doing a stout month. I am obviously excited. As my luck would have it, the beers on their long list of stouts they have available this month, aren’t actually available, at least yet. They have a few at this point, but not whatever it was I wanted, so I let the bartender decide. He chose the Lost Abbey Serpent Stout. I ignored the feelings I developed towards Lost Abbey from my previous encounter with it and agreed to the selection. It was much better than the last one (still don’t know what that was). It was definitely fruitier than most stouts, and we all know how I feel about fruity beers, but I was willing to drink all of it – and not just because David/the Italian wasn’t with me. The 10% ABV gives it a bite and the smoky flavor comes out as more of an aftertaste, which again, I found somewhat unusual for a stout. But again, I didn’t mind the beer. I will say it doesn’t pair well with the avocado and cheese sandwich, and if I’m going to choose one or the other, I’m going with the sandwich.

Random Top Five

2010-02-03T18:58:00.005-07:00

Yes, I love John Cusack. High Fidelity was [most likely] his last good movie (there's a number of them I haven't seen, but I'm willing to wager I'm not missing out on anything.). And while Top Five lists are nothing new, it's impossible to make one post-2000 without thinking of John Cusack and High Fidelity.

So, with respect to my favorite '80's actor, here are my top five beer-related possessions that aren't beer (in no particular order):

1) My beer-cap earrings. I found my first pair of these at the Cherry Creek Arts Festival last

summer -- two Lefthand Brewery bottle caps welded into a ball. Obviously, I had no choice but to buy them. Then I lost one at Great American Beer Fest. My best friend made me three new pairs for Christmas and all I need to do for her to make me more is, well, drink beer and give her bottle caps. I think I can handle that. (I swear I uploaded the photo so you can see the earrings, not just to boast about having a photo with J.R. Smith. If I were boasting, I would have uploaded the one with Chauncey or Melo.)

2) My New Belgium beer taps. Remember how New Belgium taps used to be wooden and last year they swapped them out for the metal ones that better suited New Belgium's bike theme? Well, the folks at my favorite brewery understand their beer drinkers and sold the old taps at their store. I was fortunate enough to be standing behind a man who knew this when I visited the brewery last January and, as a result, I now own a Sunshine Wheat and a Fat Tire tap. (My boyfriend suggested that my ridiculous New Belgium obsession may have put me in favor with someone at the brewery that would have then made them inclined to give me such an awesome gift -- I'm paraphrasing here. But no, I bought them. With money.)

3) My Great Divide hoodie. It's brown, comfy and has a picture of a yeti on the back with the words "I believe." on it. I bought this last November and have more or less lived in it since then.

4) My beer map. I've talked about this. It's obviously a big deal.

5) My Birdman drinking glass. Did you really expect me to get through a whole blog post without mentioning the Nuggets? You under estimate my obsession. Another Christmas present from Rach. I understand that this isn't exactly a beer-related object, but I use it for beer. And water. And really anything. It's far and away the best thing Arby's has ever produced. And I'm not just saying that because I'm a vegetarian. (In response to the photo, yes, I am a huge dork.)

In search of David Bowie, or My First Six Shooter

2010-02-02T12:39:00.002-07:00

(Note: Last Friday I went out with a bunch of friends for a Denver Six Shooter. In the most basic of terms, a Six Shooter involves going to six bars, having one drink per bar and there's some sort of theme that brings it all together. Each Tuesday one Six Shooter is featured on the website. This was my week. Check out the website though, it has some of the most entertaining drink writing I've found. And by "I've found" I mean that Kyle has shown me.)

I’m a beer girl. A very passionate one. But when it comes to going out, I almost always avoid downtown and rarely venture past my local bars. For the sake of my first Six Shooter, I decided to make an exception and wander the streets of downtown, at least the ones where you can find good beer.

So I called up a few friends and started planning a route around Blake Street. My goal was to have beers I had never had before. Knowing this is a difficult feat, I had a backup theme of craft beers, just in case I had to settle on New Belgium at some point.

When Porphyry Kyle realized our night of drinking fell on the same night that a David Bowie cover band was at the Meadowlark, our final destination was determined.

Thus began our David Bowie Craft Beer Night.

8:07 p.m.
Great Divide Tap Room
2201 Arapahoe St
Claymore Scotch Ale, $5

Great Divide was crowded. I think of the Tap Room as more of a stop-by-and-find-out-about-Great-Divide-type place, rather than a place to go out drinking on a Friday, but the place was packed. I guess more people think like me than I expect.

Fortunately, we started with just four people and halfway through our time there, the place cleared out. Either there was a bigger pub crawl than ours going on, or we missed something. Regardless, I got to sit down, so I was happy.

The Tap Room is exactly what you expect from a tasting room. It's small, it feels industrial, with metal signs and huge windows looking into the brewhouse, reminding you that the beer was made only feet from where you're standing.

Sticking to my attempted theme of beers I haven’t had before, I flipped through their seasonal beer menu and decided on Claymore Scotch Ale. Porphyry Kyle went for the Old Ruffian and I instructed the Semi-Native to order an Oak Aged Yeti (he’s new to Denver and I know his taste in beer. For the record, he really liked it.). Wyatt ordered the same.

The Claymore was wonderful; Great Divide really knows its darker beers. It tasted like a lighter Yeti, their signature stout, with a bite; a dark beer that I could drink in the summer time. (Random fact: A Claymore is a medieval Scottish sword. Great Divide says “...unlike its namesake, this beer only requires one hand, but it’ll still make you feel like nobility.”) Definitely the right way to start the night.

Around the time that Wyatt and I lost the Semi-Native and Kyle to an intense conversation about sports, the twins showed up. Our group split in two, like seventh graders at a middle school dance, until Porphyry Kyle finished his beer. We herded ourselves out the door to our mantra: “David Bowie cover band.”

9:20 p.m.
Celtic Tavern
1801 Blake St.
Pint of Bridgeport IPA, $5.25

I hate Irish pubs. I went to college in Ireland and spent two years drinking at Irish bars before I could legally drink in the States, so the novelty is lost on me. Plus, American Irish pubs represent the American idea of what is Irish: signs that say “Erin go bragh” (none of my Irish friends even know what that means), tons of four-leaf clovers (another inaccurate representation of Ireland) and the like. Irish cheese. These bars are about as authentically Irish as Tom Cruise's accent in Far and Away. But we needed another bar on our list, and since the Celtic is only a block away from Falling Rock, and it was only for one drink, I figured "Why not?"

I hadn’t been to the Celtic Tavern since before I was 21, and I was pleased to see it was less obnoxious than I expected. The Celtic is huge, with the requisite amount of tacky Irish paraphernalia: Irish road signs, among other things. I have a terrible sense of direction, but I can almost guarantee that Donegal is not in the direction that the sign in the Celtic Tavern suggests.

But on to beer. The Bridgeport was remarkably wheaty for an IPA. The strong citrus flavors lead Porphyry Kyle and I to debate whether it tasted more like a wheaty IPA or a hoppy wheat (it was definitely a wheaty IPA). Regardless, I liked it and was pleased with myself for finding a memorable microbrew that wasn’t Coloradan.

I was instructed to mention that the Celtic Tavern has a smoking room. This affects me in no way, shape or form; but while I was taking my notes, one of my companions instructed that I write that down, insisting “It’s very important.” This also meant that three of my five friends spent most of their time at the Celtic taking advantage of smoking indoors. Smokers are a funny people.

While the others were enjoying the Havana Lounge, the twins and I were joined by the Italian and his friend. The five of us entertained ourselves by watching the band set up. Based solely on their appearance and the few chords they played as they warmed up, I determined that they were the kind of people that listened to Zeppelin and Cream when they were my age and never realized that music developed after that point. When they launched in to some pretty fun blues, I was pleasantly surprised. I guess they did realize that music moved on, they just followed the same musicians on to the next style of music.

In one of those “that’s the way it goes” moments, the second we put on our coats to leave, the band started into some song that had us all singing along. One of the twins protested, insisting that we should stay just for that song. But Porphyry Kyle pushed on, assuring us that the David Bowie cover band would make up for it. (For the record, Porphyry Kyle later attested that he finds those kind of cover bands depressing, which was part of his pushing us out the door.)

10:18 p.m.
Falling Rock
1919 Blake St.
Some brew by Lost Abbey, either $5 or $6.

As a beer lover, especially one that is always interested in trying new beers, I love Falling Rock. The problem is too many other people do, as well. The bar was the busiest we had seen since starting at Great Divide. And when the bar is that busy, it’s hard to make a good selection.

I couldn’t find a beer list of the 80 taps they have, so I went for something I could identify from across the bar. A Celtic cross with the words “Lost Abbey” was visible from where I stood. I ordered that and a Ranger IPA for Kyle (I’ve been very excited about this beer since New Belgium announced it and this was the first time I had seen it. Porphyry Kyle definitely ordered it just to humor me).

As for the Abbey, I didn’t like it.

I’m not a big fan of fruity beers to begin with, but I had a hard time determining what it was I didn’t like about this beer. Something about it just tasted awkward. Fortunately for me, the Italian wasn’t enjoying his beer either (He doesn’t like hops. Who doesn’t like hops?), so we swapped. My awkward fruity beer was exchanged for a lovely winter seasonal called Santa’s Little Helper. It was a smoky, dark beer with a slight fruity taste that reminded me of both a porter and a barley wine. Also it had an ABV 10.5%. (I say this mostly because after the next beer, I was officially drunk.)

While there, another two people joined us, bringing our group count up to 11. The fact that we managed to keep this group intact almost to the end of the night astonishes me. But more people means more time at each bar. We had a less than an hour until the David Bowie cover band started and two bars to hit before then.

11:12 p.m.
Breckenridge Brewery
2220 Blake St.
Mighty Brown, $4.75

The place was empty. Empty. But by that point there were enough of us that it didn’t matter. We had managed to keep track of all eleven people and picked up another two at the bar. Plus, most of us were teetering on drunk, which made the group seem even bigger.

I order from the first tap I've never seen before: a Mighty Brown. The flavor was much too intense for a brown, with a weird prune juice after taste. I took a sip of the Italian’s drink and swapped mine for his. There’s a fairly good chance I didn’t ask his permission to do so. (I may be developing a “when you’ve known someone 11 years, you don’t always need to ask their permission to swap beers with them” policy. Though this may only apply to the Italian.)

I’m sure he told me what he ordered, but I can’t for the life of me remember. All I know is it was much better than the Mighty Brown. (He later informed me it was the Oatmeal Stout.) The swap lead to conversations about different kinds of beer: the difference between porters and stouts, educating the Canadian about what good Belgium Whites she could find in Colorado and me rambling off about how much I dislike Coors.

By the time we had finished our drinks, the we guessed that the Bowie cover band should have already started.

11:58 p.m.
Blake Street Tavern
2401 Blake St.
Flying Dog Winter Ale, $3 dollars (Three dollars!)

I’m ashamed to say I had never been to Blake Street before. I don’t usually like sports bars, which is probably why I had never been there before, and again, I don’t go out downtown much. But this place is exactly what I would want from a sports bar.

After Flying Dog Brewery moved to Maryland, Blake Street Tavern remained their Denver hub. The connection is obvious when you walk into the bar – the walls are decorated with Ralph Steadman’s Flying Dog art. There are pool tables, darts, shuffle board and enough TVs to guarantee that I’d never have to miss a Nuggets game. The place is big enough that it can handle a weekend crowd, but maintains a cozy feel that prevents it from seeming awkward there when it’s empty. Oh and did I mention my beer cost three dollars? I’m still excited about that. Expect me to return here. Frequently.

At this point I was feeling the effects of the previous four beers. I was drunk. But the winter ale was good, and after having been disappointed by my last two selections, I was happy to have chosen wisely. I honestly couldn’t describe more about the beer, other than it was dark, I liked it and it cost three dollars.

My notes at this point are limited to basic information about drinks, a quick thought about the bar, a comment about the Nuggets losing and a drawing done by Nathan. That, in itself, was a sign that we needed to move on and finish up our night.

(Side note: Had I been more sober, I’m sure I would have taken a more artistic photo of the Flying Dog art on the walls. But I was drunk, angry that my team had lost and excited to see a bar that supported both the Nuggets and the Red Sox, which explains the photo of the ATM.)

12:30 a.m. (One hour after the David Bowie cover band was supposed to start)
Meadowlark Bar
2701 Larimer St.

Fat Tire, I don’t know the price, Porphyry Kyle bought it for me and I doubt he remembers, either.
They didn’t charge a cover when we walked in, a sure sign that our Bowie cover band had finished their set. At that point none of us cared, except maybe the Semi-Native, since he was sober. I don’t imagine him getting too excited about a Bowie cover band, anyway.

Porphyry Kyle bought me a Fat Tire. I had reached the point where I didn’t care enough to examine their beer selection. And judging from my notes, it wouldn’t have made a difference if I had found a new beer to try – I wouldn’t have remembered anything about it.

I love the Meadowlark. I think it is all you could ever want from a small local venue (except maybe a better draft beer selection). This was my first visit in the wintertime and I was happy to see how well it adapted to the cold weather. While the bar lacks the craft beer theme, it was a great place to end the night.

Of our time there, our exit was the most memorable. I’m not sure how long the giant animal head has resided by the bathrooms, but none of us had noticed it before — and Kyle visits the Meadowlark probably twice a week. But given our drunken state, this animal (we called it a water buffalo, it wasn’t a water buffalo) received a lot of our attention: photos, Iphone researching, Wyatt repeatedly trying to pet it. I think it made up for missing the David Bowie cover band.

A quick note

2010-01-27T16:26:00.002-07:00

Yes, I am drinking again. I had a 90 Shilling and, of course, a Sunshine (with a lemon not an orange...disappointing) at dinner with my dad last night. Not too much to report there; it was just nice to have a beer again, especially after spending the night before watching the Nuggets game with my brothers and one of them taunting me for not being able to drink. I don't handle Nuggets games well without drinks, especially when particular players get ejected for stupid reasons. (...and breathe)

Anyway, February is shaping up to be an exciting month for drinking with the release of New Belgium's Ranger IPA, the return of Espresso Yeti, Deschutes releasing their Jubel 2010 (available once a decade) and Lefthand's Chainsaw (double Sawtooth) coming out. So there will be much drinking and blogging (don't worry, JS, I will review your beloved beer and figure out why you are cheated out of one bottle a six pack as well).

In addition to all this, I, with the help of my beloved Greggers, will be revamping this here website. So my question to you is what additions would you like to see to the website? Any beer websites or blogs that include features you particularly like? Let me know. As always, post in the comments or email me. Thanks!

A Sober Saturday

2010-01-23T20:06:00.004-07:00

"There can't be good living where there is not good drinking." – Ben Franklin

It turns out that when you get your wisdom teeth taken out you’re not supposed to drink for a week afterward. So my week of not drinking has been extended an extra four days and I’m spending the weekend beer-free, or at least beer-consuming free. But don’t fret; next week is already filled with plans involving beer to compensate for my down time.

In the meanwhile, I figure it’s time to learn more about beer.

Last year at the Great American Beer Fest I bought the “3^rd edition Beer Drinker’s Guide to Colorado,” a map that lists all the breweries in Colorado and includes a ridiculous amount of Colorado and beer based information ranging from the Colorado fourteeners to tips on home brewing to which glasses are appropriate for which beers. From here on out, this wonderful source of information will be known as my “beer map.”

On my beer map there is a beer tree – a diagram that divides the various types of beer along limbs and branches. It looks like this:

Since the blog is still in its developmental stages, I figure now is as good a time as ever to explore a little bit of the different genres of beer and to see what I can find out about them.

All of the various kinds of beer come down to three types: ales, lagers and lambic (I’m not going to lie, before looking at this diagram I had never heard the word “lambic” before. In fact, the closest word that comes to mind is “iambic” and I’m sure that there is no correlation between beer and poetic verse. Except, of course, when Shakespeare talked about beer, but we’re getting off topic).

As you can see on the diagram, ales and lagers are differentiated by the kind of fermentation they undergo, which is determined by the kind of yeast used. The yeast found in ales ferments at temperatures between 10 to 25 degrees Celsius. The yeast usually creates a foam at the top when it ferments (there are some British yeasts that are the exception to this rule). Ales are usually stored for three weeks, although certain kinds may be aged for months or even years.

The yeast found in lagers has a bit of history to it, going back to a beer that claims to be the “best in the world,” Carlsberg. For the record, I disagree. But I appreciate their contribution to beer history.

In the late 19^th century, the head of Carlsberg Brewing laboratory, Emil Christian Hansen, developed a method for isolating single yeast cells by storing them in cold caves. The wild yeasts survived the cold (around 10 degrees Celsius) and would continue to ferment the beers after the other yeasts had died. As you may have guessed, these yeasts tend to collect at the bottom. This new kind of beer was then stored near freezing point for about a month, allowing it to mellow and develop a smoother taste. And, after that time, a lager is created, preferably one that tastes better than Carlsberg.

At least that’s how you used to distinguish the two different kinds of beers (I’m ignoring this lambic business for the time being). Now, since homebrewers and microbrewers continue to experiment and develop the beer-making process, the difference between ales and lagers is the yeast’s ability to process raffinose. Given I only had my wisdom teeth extracted four days ago and I’m still not entirely with it, I’m going to give this chemistry-related information a miss and will come back to it at a later date, probably about the time I can find someone who knows science and can explain it to me in a way I understand.

A bit of information on Lambic Beers.

Apparently these are only available in a specific region of Belgium -- the Pajottenland region, which is southwest of Brussels and Brussels itself. It’s made through spontaneous fermentation by exposing the beer to wild yeasts and a particular kind of bacteria that is native to the Sienne valley. The beers are the "winiest of all beers" -- dry and cidery with a slightly sour aftertaste. I expect them to taste like the champagne version of barleywines. I also don’t expect to like them, but I'll at least give them a shot. Someday. (If you know anything about lambic beers, or can suggest one I should try, please comment below or email me.)

Of course I’ll be going through ales, lagers and, yes, even lambic beers in more detail in the months to come. For now, I’m going to return to the Nuggets game and hope that my team remembers how to score free throws before the half is over (Come on, boys, it’s Rocky’s birthday!). And halfway through the week, I’ll return to my regular, beer-drinking self. I promise. As always, email or leave comments if you have questions, comments or suggestions.

A post that doesn’t involve me drinking

2010-01-18T13:48:00.010-07:00

"I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts, and beer." -Abraham Lincoln

I’m taking a week off from drinking. I know how this sounds. I blog about beer, how can I go a week without drinking? Well if a particular Nuggets guard had gotten you as drunk as he got me last Thursday, you’d feel the need to give your liver a break as well. Dear god.

Fortunately, there are ways to blog about beer without consuming it, so I’m still writing, even while sober.

Time for some random beer facts.

-Alcohol was created by the Egyptians. I imagine this is a fairly well known fact (see photo), but for the sake of my friends in Team Cairo, I’ll mention it anyway. A few other Egyptian beer facts: beer was used for medicinal purposes (texts from 1600 BC list 100 medical uses for it!) and was considered a necessity in the burial process for the journey to the afterlife. (I expect much the same at my own funeral.)

-Last Egyptian fact: if an Egyptian man offered a woman a sip of his beer, they were betrothed. I’m trying to decide if this is either the best way to get engaged or would just get me in heaps of trouble. I’m guessing the latter.

-Among Noah’s provisions on the Ark was beer. Add that to the list of Bible facts I will actually remember.

-Molson brewery was founded in 1786 making it the oldest brewery in North America. Score one for the Canadians. However, the founding fathers Washington and Jefferson operated their own private brew houses. William Penn (the founder of Pennsylvania), stepped it up a notch by operating a full commercial brewery. Sam Adams, of course, did too.

-Yet it was James Madison who did us the greatest favor (at least in the opinion of this Coloradan) by proposing “that Congress levy a low 8-cent duty per barrel on malt liquors to encourage ‘the manufacture of beer in every State in the Union.’” I have a new favorite founding father.

-Yuengling is America’s oldest brewery. It was established in 1829 in Pottsville, Pennsylvania. They survived prohibition by brewing near beer, meaning de-alcoholized beer, and dairy products. Glad to know my favorite cheap beer has some history to it. And given how much better it is than Molson beers, I retract my previous statement about the Canadians winning.

-Another prohibition related piece of information. During beer festival week in Colorado, the Brown Palace Hotel – one of Denver’s historic hotels and landmarks, served beer in teapots. Supposedly, during prohibition beer was served in teapots to mask the drink. I’m sure that the more elite beer drinkers would object to pouring beer in such a way, but, I have to say, it’s a lot of fun drinking beer out of a teapot. My drinking buddy and I agreed that the Brown Palace should offer beer in teapots year round.

-And, perhaps the most important fact of all, in 1977 Jack McAuliffe opens the New Albion brewery in Sonoma, California. It didn’t last long, but it goes down in history as America’s first Microbrewery. Eighteen years later, there were around 500 breweries operating in the U.S., increasing at a rate of three to four per week. Last July the count was at 1,525 total breweries in the country.

I think that'll do it for this post. Expect another sober post later this week. And come the weekend, I’ll resume my normal course of blogging (e.g. drinking). Until that time, someone go have a good beer for me.

This post wasn’t supposed to happen.

2010-01-13T16:48:00.006-07:00

“Good people drink good beer” –Hunter S. Thompson

Monday I had an appointment to have my wisdom teeth extracted. However, the lovely folks at my dental insurance managed to lose any record of me in their system…so the appointment was postponed. As mad as I was at the time, it worked out for the best. The suckers are being taken out next week and I had the opportunity to watch the Nuggets game, and Melo was back after a five game absence.

But on to beer.

To help me recuperate from my frustrating day my friend, Kyle, agreed to tolerate watching a Nuggets game with me. We met at his local, Don’s, which is conveniently down the street from me. Now that I have this blog, every drink becomes a lesson and a potential blogpost. Given the circumstances I took it as a sign that I should pay attention to my beer, not just the game, and contribute to the blog.

Having received a request to discuss Flying Dog on my last post (I have a feeling I know who you are, anonymous.), I figured I’d try their Tire Bite Golden Ale, which Don’s carried on tap.

I’ve never found one of their beers that I really love, but I do have a personal appreciation for their craft. It was while drinking Flying Dog in New York City years ago that I solidified my friendship with the woman who suggested I start this blog. Maybe it’s the number of unfiltered beers they carry, or that I just haven’t tried the right one, but it’s not among my favorite breweries, or even close.

Tire Bite reminds me of Samurai, Great Divide’s rice ale, but with a weaker flavor, so it’s easier for me to drink more than one. It has a slight bitter taste, which I felt seemed out of character for a golden, or at least my expectations of what a golden should be. Turns out I was wrong.

Golden ales are, from what I’ve gathered, intended to be a more complex lager with malty flavors and a slight bitterness that contrasts the spicy or citrusy flavor also found in the beer. It’s expected to have a dry flavor, which Tire Bite definitely did, and four to five percent alcohol. Knowing all this, I need to revisit the beer. All I know is after two beers, I swapped to Titan IPA.

Now some information about the brewery:

I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit that I didn’t notice this before, but sometimes I miss the obvious. It turns out that Flying Dog has connections to one of my favorite journalists, the man who proved to me that journalism was still entertaining when I was dragging through the second half of my degree: Hunter S. Thompson.

The reason this is an embarrassing lapse of knowledge is among Hunter’s other contributions to the brewery, which includes a hefty unpaid tab, is introducing the brewers to Ralph Steadman. Ralph Steadman is one of those names I should know, but can never remember. Simply put he did this:

As well as this:

Flying Dog is Gonzo beer. And my respect for their brewery just grew. (This is the kind of trivia I love. Expect more of it in posts to come.)

The question posed to me by “anonymous” was about Flying Dog moving from Colorado to Maryland. At the end of 2007, the brewers at Flying Dog acquired a state-of-the-art facility in Fredrick, Maryland, about 45 minutes outside Washington D.C. (D.C. friends, you should go visit for me.) Before moving, the brewery sold about 60% of their beer east of the Mississippi and with an increase in the cost of raw materials (hops, malt, glass, etc), moving their brewery would make it more efficient. Overall smart business. The corporate office remained in Denver, maintaining Flying Dog’s, at least in my opinion, status as a Colorado brewery. And with an Aspen-based history like that, it’s hard to deny that they’ll always be Coloradans.

Here we go!

2010-01-10T15:20:00.003-07:00

I’m passionate about a number of things: Colorado, music, environmentalism, the Nuggets. On top of that there are a few things about which I am truly obsessed. My friends could list off a variety of topics that fall into this category, prefaced with the warning, “You don’t want to bring this up with Jenn. You won’t get her to stop.” But one thing surpasses all the rest: beer. Well, that and my dog, but I imagine the rest of the world is much more interested in beer than my dog.

I attribute a lot of this to growing up in Colorado. While traveling, I found that most people associate Colorado with Coors. But anyone who has even a small interest in beer knows that Colorado is much more than the watered down piss “born high in the Rocky Mountains” (sorry, Coors drinkers, but I’m a beer snob, you had to see it coming). I consider Colorado to be a beer drinker’s heaven. And by winning the title of the nation’s top beer-producing state in 2007, I can’t be far from wrong. There is a staggering number of breweries and brewpubs all over the state (121 according to my beer map), a wonderful assortment of bars and restaurants to learn about the beers, as well as a population who is as passionate about their beer as they are about their mountains. Being a beer lover is something I consider to be a fundamental part of being a Coloradan.

I’ll admit that I don’t know that much about beer, given how much I love it. I can’t describe the different ways beer is produced, or what the separates a porter from a stout – other than taste. But that’s part of my intention towards this blog – to educate myself (and hopefully you) about beer; everything from the different types of beers to how one brewery compares to another, history, random facts and more.

To get you going, here’s a list of my five favorite beers:

-New Belgium’s Sunshine Wheat

I am well aware that this is hardly an exciting beer. However, it was the first beer that I tried and thought “wow, this is really good.” I consider it to have taken my beer-virginity, so it will always hold a special place in my heart. In addition to that, New Belgium is an absolutely amazing brewery and company, with remarkable business ethic and a dedication towards sustainability and environmentally friendly practices.

-Great Divide’s Espresso Oak Aged Yeti

I love a good stout or porter. The Yeti line of stouts is amazing and Great Divide does a phenomenal job pairing it with espresso. It doesn’t hurt that the coffee used in the beer comes from the coffee shop down the street. I would be more descriptive, but as a seasonal beer, I haven’t been able to drink it since last March and, frankly, talking about it more will just sadden me. Expect a post about this beer in the start of February.

-Tommy Knocker’s Alpine Glacier Lager

All those Coors ads I mocked? This is what they are striving for. It is a light, refreshing beer, but it’s still a beer. There’s a slight sweet taste to it -- the first time I had it, it reminded me of rosewater -- but it has substance as well. It’s perfect for hot summer nights, but not something I would turn down in the wintertime either.

-Avery’s Ellie’s Brown

Something between the lights and the darks. I honestly didn’t notice how hoppy it was until a friend mentioned that to me recently. Prior to that, I found it to be a refreshing beer that is heavier than the lagers or wheats that I would normally drink in the warmer months. My friend's comments about the hoppiness verify the complexity of the beer – the variety of tastes it has without being overwhelming. Avery is a brewery that prides itself in making experimental beer -- many of their beers have intense flavors and strong overtones that are often too complicated for my palate. Ellie’s is where they mastered it, there are enough diverse flavors that it is interesting but not so strong that you can only drink one.

-Steamwork’s Third Eye Pale Ale

While most IPAs I can only distinguish from one another in terms of how hoppy they are, Steamwork’s has a unique taste – a sweetness and flavor that other IPAs lack, without straying far from the strong hoppiness that an IPA requires. In a blind taste test, this is the one IPA I would be able to tell apart from the others and then I probably wouldn’t give it back. If you haven’t had it before, get it now – I understand that Steamworks is going to stop distributing outside of Durango soon.

I’m well aware that this list is exclusively Colorado microbrews -- those tend to be what I drink. But I will expand my beer geography; I understand Oregon knows a thing or two about brewing.

This is only a starting point.

And with that, here’s what you can expect from the blog:

-Reviews of beers (frequent), bars (occasional) and breweries (as many tours as I can fit into my life). After all, the point of this blog is to write about beer.

-Lessons in beer: facts, history, overall beer knowledge. I intend to educate myself about beer, so while I’m at it, I might as well educate you too.

-(Hopefully) Stories from my first attempts at homebrewing. We’ll see how that goes.

-Random anecdotes, stories and other useless pieces of information.

Like I said before, I consider myself a beer fanatic not a beer expert. I am certain that there are a number of great beer blogs, websites and reviews out there written by people who truly know what they’re talking about. This isn’t one of those (yet). This blog is an opportunity for me to further my understanding of beer and to share the experience with you. So if you’re looking for extensive beer knowledge and expert opinions, you aren’t going to find them here. If you’re looking for thoughts on beer from a curious girl with a passion for hops, please check back frequently. I’m hoping this will be quite an adventure.

If you have comments or suggestions, email me at beerjenn@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you, especially if there are beers you’d like to suggest, questions you want me to explore or information you’d like to share. Thanks.