Swapping up the order of things

“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

"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

"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

"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

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

"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)

"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.