Beer Escapades - Adventure I

 

I think my BIL planted the seed with a case of ale he bought me for my birthday, but I can’t blame him. The idea really took shape out of a conversation I had about potentially recession proof businesses venture. Another fellow and I agreed that making beer seemed like a stable business. And if you could start a brewery during bad times and make a living out of it, then surely we’d be able to kick ass during good times to come. We even came up with a theme for a brew pub and decided what kinds of beer to brew. It was an excellent bar room BS slinging session, except we were sober in the confines of our office. We haven’t discussed it since. But it made me think, which made my brain hurt.

 

Faced with the idea of making beer, I realized that I knew very little I knew about the art form I’ve so admired for much of my life. And since this conversation occurred at about the same time my IRS refund showed up, I decided to spend a bit of that cash on “research”. I would brew my own beer.

 

I quickly discovered a shortcoming in the process. I would need 54-108 empty bottles to fill with a couple batches of freshly brewed beer. Luckily the local beer distributor had plenty of bottles. They were just full of beer. I had to empty them somehow. I decided to drink the beer. I therefore ventured boldly forth on the first of what I think will be three brain cell assassinating adventures.

 

Choosing the brands of bottles to empty was hard work. They couldn’t come with twist off caps or I wouldn’t be able to recap them. That ruled out most mainstream American beers. I ended up in a realm I hadn’t visited in years, the happy, happy Land of Real Beer.

 

I ended up with Pete's Wicked Ale (www.peteswicked.com/) for my first 24 bottles. Pete had brewed the first microbrew I’d ever tasted, which seemed fitting for my first homebrew. The bottles also have raised lettering that reads “wicked”, which I thought was, er, um, wicked. Truly a bonus.

 

Bottles 25-48 and 73-96 contained beverages brewed within a couple miles of my house. Even though I’ve lived nearby for years, I’d not sampled anything from Troegs (www.troegs.com/). Their Sunshine Pils (www.troegs.com/beers_sunshine.htm) turned out to be outstanding, definitely my favorite out of the four. Their Hopback Amber (www.troegs.com/beers_hopback.htm) was my second favorite. Both were very hoppy, but no so ridiculously hoppy that you couldn’t readily taste the malts. And neither had that excruciating, sphincter puckering bitterness common with most hoppy brews. Both cases made me very happy.

 

Bottles 49-72 housed my least favorite brew. What made them remarkable was the store in which they were purchased. I ventured into a place called Westy’s Beer Distributor. There I discovered a couple of small aisles crammed with the normal cast of American mainstream beers. The rest of the store was a beer drinker’s romper room, jammed with craft beer from all over the country, and imports from Europe and Asia that I’d not heard of before. I wandered aimlessly reading labels and gawking for more than half an hour. I finally hit full sensory overload, said fuck it, and picked a random case to take home with me. Mad Anthony’s American Pale Ale by Erie Brewing Company (www.eriebrewingco.com/beer_madanthony.html) was a fine drinking brew, but nothing special compared to the other three contenders.

 

After drinking so much Natural Light, drinking beer with flavor and character was fantastically enjoyable. I’m already bummed that my cupboard is restocked with Natties. 

 

But as I mentioned, this escapade appears to be a trilogy, so I have more yumminess in my life to enjoy. I’m not totally Natty again. Pictures to come.