Gary O'
Well-known member
Couldn't find a beer thread, sooooooo
BEER
With fruit
Up until a couple decades ago I never really cared what kinda beer.
Cold beer was....better.
But one time, while team driving with a happening dude, we stopped for the night.
Found a bar.
Shot the breeze about the usual; politics, sports, economics, sports, ingrown toenails, sports, carburation vs fuel injection, sports, and....beer.
He seemed to know his way around several types and flavors; pilsners, stouts, lagers, ales, porters and on and on.
My main selection was 'wet'.
I noticed he had a piece of fruit in his beer.
'Corona with lime, good beer.'
I try one.
Actually, it was rather refreshing.
But just that one time.
Dark beer
While golfing, my club wielding hippy buddy offered one of his porters.
Black Butte porter
Man, that was gooooood beer.
Was
For awhile it became my beer of choice.
Then, like an old girlfriend...a flame that went out as fast as it flared up, my taste for it just disappeared.
IPA
After months of just getting whatever was on sale, my lady and I dropped by the Edgefield poor farm, one of McMenamins beer gardens just outta Portland OR.
Cool place.
One of our sometimes favorite haunts.
A quaint place on the grounds is called the 'little red shed'.
Cozy
Stone fireplace
Bowls of peanuts, of which you were encouraged to toss the shells on the dirt floor.
Short bar, rather up close and personal.
I asked the barkeep what his favorite beer was.
'IPA'
'I Pee what?'
'India pale ale'
He then went on with the IPA story about the Brits needing beer in India.
He drew one for me.
Not a lager
Not a pilsner
Definitely not a dark beer
Not any ale I'd ever had.
It was very good.
Distinctly good.
It became the beginning of a fascinating quest for me to find the best one. The best of the best in my opinion.
Up until last night, I'd actually hoped I'd never find it....traveling around, tasting, sampling.
But,
the hunt is over.
This beer, this medium dark beer....not dark, not amber, but a rich bodied color of....maybe mahogany, was capped with a glorious head.
A head that was not scraped off, but about two inches higher than the brim.
A head of tight little bubbles, bubbles so small they didn't really look like bubbles at all, but more like combed fleece.
This beer, this beer looked the epitome of the word 'quench'.
I knew I'd found it.
I hoped I'd found it.
I hoped it tasted half as good as it looked.
It tasted....better.
There is none other for me.
I cannot go back.
I refuse to go forward.
Why would I?
I have arrived at my destination.
Actually, after a few years, my taste changed
Right now it's
but it's not in my town
cheers
BEER
With fruit
Up until a couple decades ago I never really cared what kinda beer.
Cold beer was....better.
But one time, while team driving with a happening dude, we stopped for the night.
Found a bar.
Shot the breeze about the usual; politics, sports, economics, sports, ingrown toenails, sports, carburation vs fuel injection, sports, and....beer.
He seemed to know his way around several types and flavors; pilsners, stouts, lagers, ales, porters and on and on.
My main selection was 'wet'.
I noticed he had a piece of fruit in his beer.
'Corona with lime, good beer.'
I try one.
Actually, it was rather refreshing.
But just that one time.
Dark beer
While golfing, my club wielding hippy buddy offered one of his porters.
Black Butte porter
Man, that was gooooood beer.
Was
For awhile it became my beer of choice.
Then, like an old girlfriend...a flame that went out as fast as it flared up, my taste for it just disappeared.
IPA
After months of just getting whatever was on sale, my lady and I dropped by the Edgefield poor farm, one of McMenamins beer gardens just outta Portland OR.
Cool place.
One of our sometimes favorite haunts.
A quaint place on the grounds is called the 'little red shed'.
Cozy
Stone fireplace
Bowls of peanuts, of which you were encouraged to toss the shells on the dirt floor.
Short bar, rather up close and personal.
I asked the barkeep what his favorite beer was.
'IPA'
'I Pee what?'
'India pale ale'
He then went on with the IPA story about the Brits needing beer in India.
He drew one for me.
Not a lager
Not a pilsner
Definitely not a dark beer
Not any ale I'd ever had.
It was very good.
Distinctly good.
It became the beginning of a fascinating quest for me to find the best one. The best of the best in my opinion.
Up until last night, I'd actually hoped I'd never find it....traveling around, tasting, sampling.
But,
the hunt is over.
This beer, this medium dark beer....not dark, not amber, but a rich bodied color of....maybe mahogany, was capped with a glorious head.
A head that was not scraped off, but about two inches higher than the brim.
A head of tight little bubbles, bubbles so small they didn't really look like bubbles at all, but more like combed fleece.
This beer, this beer looked the epitome of the word 'quench'.
I knew I'd found it.
I hoped I'd found it.
I hoped it tasted half as good as it looked.
It tasted....better.
There is none other for me.
I cannot go back.
I refuse to go forward.
Why would I?
I have arrived at my destination.
Actually, after a few years, my taste changed
Right now it's
Michelob Amber Bock
but it's not in my town
cheers
