Well then.

Allow me to extend my condolences to Mr. West Coast and the rest of the citizens of San Francisco after a hard-fought loss in yesterday's NFC Championship game. We were both rooting for a 49ers victory, since it would certainly have been fun to yell at each other from coast to coast.

Love it.

I was rooting for a 49ers victory because of what happens now: the unmistakable merry-go-round that will become the ESPN, NFL Network, Boston Globe, and New York Daily News as they all try to stretch a three-year-old football game into two weeks of anticipatory coverage. David Tyree. Remember him? The guy who said he'd give up that catch and the Giants 2008 Superbowl win to keep marriage in New York between a man and a woman? He's back and he's going to be ALL OVER YOUR TV. As my buddy wrote on his blog two days ago: "You know what’s annoying? Hearing Boston and LA fans discuss the NBA Finals of 2008 and 2010. This would be even more annoying."

So as a Boston native, I was really hoping to avoid (for Winter anyway) the whole New York vs. Boston hatefest. Hating on the Yankees is fun in Boston, but what's even more fun across America is hating on both of these cities for hating on each other. Sort of a modern-day crane and clam. Anyway, I hate the Giants.

Aaah... The New Jersey Turnpike...

Here's a beer that's a little topical. We've done a few posts on Flying Fish Brewery before, each of them on their Exit Series of beers that celebrate New Jersey. Exit 16, their Wild Rice Double IPA, is named after the grains that used to cover the wet marshes of the Meadowlands, near the Giants' home stadium.

Like scum on a New Jersey waterway.

This was incredibly hoppy (duh, it's a double IPA), but I was unprepared for how dry the beer was going to be too. Usually a beer will have some malt sweetness as a base against which the hops can work. Not this one.

I will concede that this is a very nice-looking pour.

I got a really nice light yellow pour with a lot of sticky lacing that was not dissimilar from the sort of greasy foam one finds in the Hackensack river up here. The nose was the traditional citrus fruit salad (orange, lemon, grapefruit) with some brighter floral notes and intense pine resins. On the palate, bone dry, with incredible bitterness as well. I wasn't really able to taste any sweetness in the beer - the bitter hops just hit and hit hard. I also wasn't able to detect any wild rice, though one of the things I dislike about wild rice is its bitter aftertaste, so maybe it was there all along.

Maybe the only reason to brew big bottles is to have a label

big enough for your essay-long descriptions.

This is an unmistakably American double IPA - punchy, intense, and wildly unbalanced. It's not my favorite thing to drink, but if I can find another bottle of this limited release, I might bring it to a Superbowl party.

Happy Birthday, West Coast!

In honor of Mr. West Coast, whose birthday it is today, I'm reviewing a recent favorite. Avery Brewing, from Boulder, Colorado, has been doing pretty much everything right for just under two decades. Avery's very delicious Hog Heaven is a perfect specimen of what they do well. And I happen to know that contrary to his name, Mr. West Coast is in fact from the heartland state of Iowa, a land of pigs and porcine deliciousness. And I know Mr. West Coast is a pork fan, so here's to him, and to this marvelous beer.

Hog Heaven - one of their Holy Trinity of Ales

The first thing one notices is how fantastic the labels are. Avery puts a lot of work into its label design, and it shows. Nicely done, folks.

Nice pour. Yes, we're eating sushi behind this.

It pours a really nice and almost viscous orange, with a very weak head that faded fast. As a dry-hopped beer, Hog Heaven has a lot of aroma. I got a burst of citrus on the nose - grapefruit and orange, mainly, with some nice floral resins too. As it warmed, I also started to smell a very welcoming undertone of caramel.

The description, while correct, borders on hyperbolic ridiculousness.

Avery describes Hog Heaven as a "dangerously drinkable garnet beauty" with "intense bitterness and the dankest of dry-hopped aromas." I'm not sure I got dank aromas - they were lively and fresh, but I can attest to both its bitterness and its dangerous drinkability. That drinkability is dangerous primarily due to Hog Heaven's 9.2% ABV.

Nice color.

One thing I didn't taste in this beer was the alcohol. 9.2% ought to burn a little on its way down, as a warning - this didn't at all. I got punchy hop bitterness, a lot of the aforementioned citrus, and wonderfully full malt flavors, and the beer itself was pleasantly thick. I could drink a lot of this beer far more quickly than might be prudent. The malt really comes into its own about halfway down the glass, so although there's plenty of hoppy bite, the whole thing ends up really well balanced.

Happy Birthday, Buddy.

So there you have it - Happy Birthday, West Coast, and cheers to you!

Aloha! ...Oregon?

One of the nice things about my fiancée is that she likes beer. It's nice to have someone to try a bottle of beer with, or to kick back and have a beer with, or shop for beer with. It helps when you also think that person with whom all that beer is happening is really cute.

Another nice thing about my fiancée is that her dad likes beer, and they have cool things in their house including beer from bygone eras. What follows is one such beer.

A True Oregon Experience?

Behold, Star Brewing Company's Pineapple Ale. You know you're in for a treat when the interwebs note that it's been closed since 1996. Says a positively ancient article from the Portland Business Journal, "Wayne Anderson, president and chief executive officer of Star Brewing, said the company expects to close its Portland brewery by late September and move the operation to Phoenix. The company will be reborn as Phoenix Ale and Lagering Co. and consumers in the Southwest could start quaffing its brew by February 1997." However, that proved to be too optimistic: Star never made it to Phoenix, and shut down instead. A quick google search reveals that Wayne Anderson is now the chief sales manager of Oskar Blues, so at least he's landed on his feet.

I don't know why 1894 is featured on this bottle.

But back to the Pineapple beer. There's indication then that this beer is around 15 years old, since an article in Country Living from 1996 notes that the Pineapple Ale was added at that time. Here's a quote from the article: "Though Star features such high-flying comets as an Alt, I.P.A., and an Imperial Stout, it is the Raspberry Ale that puts ink on an account ledger. "It's an abomination to mankind," [Owner Scott] Wenzel overstates, "but it represents 44 percent of our sales." Star has just added a Pineapple Ale to its line." The art is screened onto the bottle directly, so it's held up nicely. As my future father-in-law opened the bottle (with significant trepidation, I might add), we were all shocked to hear the breaking of a potent seal.

Real live bubbles. Who'd have thought?

Bubbles! Actual carbonation survived for 15 years in this bottle. Impressive indeed. The aroma was all sugary sweetness and while I wouldn't have been able to pick "pineapple" out of the aroma if asked directly, I suppose after a while I started to detect some hints of the ripe tropical fruit on the nose. It wasn't a bad pour either - good ruddy copper color and a fluffy head that stuck around a while.

"Surprisingly tart" is not a descriptor I would use.

Flavor was really out there. True to its aroma, this was a super sweet beer. I tasted none of the Perle & Willamette Hops that were so lovingly highlighted on the bottle. Nor do I think I got much of the 2-Row, Munich, or Carastan 30-37 malts. What I got was sugar and maybe some very sickly-sweet pink bubblegum.

A Vacation In A Bottle!

In my dream vacation, I'm drinking a different beer.

When I was a kid, my Dad used to crack open cans of Dole pineapple chunks to put on cottage cheese. I, being wholly uninterested in the cottage cheese, would spoon the pineapple juice / syrup out of the can. The flavor here was not far removed from that sensation, and it left me in much the same state: speedy sugar high followed by crash.

Sediment. Not nearly as much as a beer this old should have had.

We were totally impressed that this beer had held up for as long as it had. Between the four of us, we ended up finishing a nice tasting of this bottle, though I'm pretty sure I was given the lion's share. This beer went down quite easily, I have to say, but it sat weirdly in my stomach and I would not recommend it again in case another bottle is somehow found.

Celebration

One of my favorite beers, year after year, is the Sierra Nevada Celebration. Unlike Abita's Christmas Ale, the recipe for Celebration doesn't actively change from year to year - Sierra Nevada finds what it likes and sticks to it. Minute changes do occur, I'm sure, and as such, I had high hopes for the 2011 version, after my West Coast partner reviewed the 2010 incarnation and found it a little lacking.

My camera doesn't really like the color red, which is a problem

in photographing a beer that's this copper-colored.

I poured this one into a tall pilsner glass. It poured a really nice ruddy copper color, with the thick head that Sierra Nevada always seems to get right. Because I can't always remember from year to year what this is supposed to smell like, it ends up being new for me each year, and I really liked what I could pick up. A lot of grapefruit and pine resin hops on the nose, for sure.

I've already remarked on the scenic quality of Sierra Nevada's labels.

Nonetheless, it bears repeating. Their graphic designer is awesome.

I've been harping on balance for a while now, as it's one of my complaints about American beer that it tends to be really hop-heavy. Sierra Nevada has been leading the movement (I've just sampled their Estate Ale and hope to write it up soon) with huge quantitities of very intense hops. Their Pale Ale, for instance, is a bitter standard in my mind. However, Sierra Nevada takes time to select the right hops, so while things are definitely bitter, everything just works. I think what I like about Celebration is that it's still got a good malty backbone that balances out some of the hops while the bitterness cuts through the rich food of the winter season and provides a spicy counterpoint to what is otherwise a very heavy couple of months.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. True to the aroma, I got a lot of grapefruit flavor, with some honey and toffee from the malt. It reminds me of wintertime citrus instead of the picturesque snow-covered cabin on its label. I really liked the mouthfeel as well - I didn't find it terribly thin, but I can see what West Coast was thinking when he called the finish "harsh." I disagree - I found it bracing and refreshing, but I could imagine that the astringency might be off-putting as well.

This was lovely, and very easily drinkable.

A bit too easily drinkable...

And one more thing: I'm really glad to find a winter ale that isn't heavily tarted up with "winter flavors." I'll have far too many examples of that particular travesty in the coming weeks. This one is one to celebrate.

Fall, Part 5 - Weather is Weird

So this past month, we've had 30 degrees and snow and we've had sunny high 60s, so I thought I'd channel that unpredictability with this post.

First, the ridiculous snow we had. Dear winter - go the hell away. Seriously - roads got sloppy, tree branches snapped under the weight of heavy snow, and I lost internet access for a whole two days. Horrible, I tell you, horrible!

Goose Island Mild Winter - another winner.

So we pray for a Mild Winter (see what I did there?). Goose Island's Mild Winter is a delicious malty treat of a beer. It's a nice deep brown with a great sweet aroma wafting up from a nice fluffy head. The first sip was beautifully smooth, with just a touch of bitterness on the back end to balance everything out. I couldn't really smell anything, but that might just have been a stuffed nose on my part. I had a hard time tasting any of the "spicy rye flavors" that Goose Island was touting, but I really enjoyed the beer's overall richness and dark fruit flavors. And Goose Island's got some slight balance issues (their IPA is aggressively hopped and their Bourbon County Stout could kill) but this one settled down nicely.

Sledding is very wintery.

Hockey Skates - also wintery.

I enjoyed the label as well - nice view of the Chicago Hancock tower on one side, and the Willis (née Sears) Tower on the other. I've become a pretty big fan of the city of Chicago over the last decade, and both it and the beer are worth a return visit.

Serving suggestion.

Ps. What's a Willi Glass?

And then there was that two week period of gorgeous late summer days and mild evenings, not even a week after the snow. In celebration, I grabbed a really nice Sierra Nevada Summerfest.

Sierra Nevada has the most scenic labels.

I'm usually pretty enamored of Sierra Nevada. Their Pale Ale is distinctive and delicious with just the right amount of bite for a good all-around beer. I wish I liked the Summerfest as much, I'll be honest.

Not a bad looking pour.

Color was off on the camera though.

I think a lot of the problem was just that I'm not as in love with lager these days. There was some great grassiness hay on the nose, and the pour was the pure bright gold of summer. It had, as it promised, "a crisp, refreshing finish," but I guess I didn't taste any of the "delicate spicy and floral hop flavor" that I was promised.

Overpromise + Underdeliver.

I think Summerfest's greatest strength is in how mild it is - I could put a lot of these back without overwhelming my taste buds, because there wasn't a lot of flavor there.

It did not take me long to finish this beer.

Maybe in the depths of August that's really necessary, but on an Indian Summer day in November, it was nothing more than my pathetic attempt to hold on to the fleeting sunshine.

Fall, Part 4

The sequential naming of all of past four posts has a point - I've been quite taken by the beauty of Autumn and its harvest bounty, and I'm much happier eating (and drinking) seasonally. As I've said before, I'm a marketer's dream, which isn't far from my first point. What is seasonal cuisine anyway, but nature saying "limited time only!"

Mmm...

Of course, the pinnacle of limited time only is, of course, the McDonald's McRib. Like Maine sweet shrimp or the best New Jersey tomatoes, the McRib is available for a tantalizingly brief moment, during which the truly devoted are eager to partake of nature's bounty.

Lovingly scattered onions

I mean, let's talk about this thing, right? It's a spongy slab of pork goodness shaped, with humor, as if it had ribs. It's "smothered," as the ads say, in tangy barbecue sauce, with two pickle slices and a smattering of real onions strewn across its textured meatscape. That barbecue sauce is pretty thick and heavy, and it paints a messy swath across the box, one's hands, and one's lips.

Bread is weird

This bun is hilarious - it appears at first glance to be toasted (I mean, it's got that irregular brown shading that one finds on actual bread that's been actually toasted), but the soft squishiness of the bread-like-substance shows it might as well have been painted on. But the whole of the sandwich is significantly greater than the sum of its parts, and because it's "limited time only," I'm all over this thing.

Way too thin.

Not enough depth.

Not enough complexity.

But what to drink? I tried a few seasonal varieties and found them sadly lacking - the Otter Creek Oktoberfest, the Sam Adams Octoberfest, even the basic Sam Adams Boston Lager. Nothing really had enough umph or backbone to complement the sharp onions, savory pork, or tangy bbq sauce. So I ended up looking a little outside the box to the other things that might complement slow roasted meat by-products and ended up with a true winner.

Big bottle of delicious

Samuel Smith's Yorkshire Stingo was exactly what this sandwich needed. The old oak barrels impart an amazing sweetness and lush roundness to the flavor.

What a color

The roasted malts provide a lovely caramel flavor with buttery toffee notes. On its own, this is already a lovely beer.

Hell of a pedigree for a beer

There's a bit of sharpness from the alcohol that cuts through the richness of the pork (this is a strong 9% abv), while the caramel flavors meld with the onions for a really amazing sweetness. And the aroma of apple cider in the beer was the perfect accompaniment to the fatty, squishy pork.

Part of this balanced meal.

Overall, the Yorkshire Stingo was bold enough to stand up to the smothering spice of the barbecue sauce, producing a truly heavenly pairing that elevated both elements. I'll be waiting, beer in hand, for the next time the McRib comes around.

Fall, Part 3

So I'm definitely a little behind. I love drinking beer and I love talking about beer, but there are a few times at which I'm not wild about picking up my laptop to write about it. My bad. There's also a TON of beer in my fridge that I'm also a little behind in terms of drinking. Trust me though - I'm working on it.

So there's a lot of beer in here. Hmm...

So my distaste for pumpkin beers is well known. I'm not wild about pumpkin as an ingredient, and I do not like it in beer. I do not like pumpkin in bread, I do not like pumpkin in pie, I barely enjoy pumpkins in catapults. I'm terrified of them when they're drenched in glitter.

But damn if suddenly come Labor Day, the liquor stores aren't flooded by pumpkin beers of every kind. It's rare to fine one that I like. Well, it's rare to find one I'll buy, which means it's even that much harder to find one that I like. I am a huge fan of the Sam Adams variety packs (see the Spring pack - I bought the Summer one, but didn't review much from it). So hooray for the Fall pack, which I started off on two posts ago. I ended up having to take home two of the Harvest Pumpkin beers as a result. And I have to say, they weren't horrible.

Nice copper color.

11 pounds of pumpkin go into each barrel, they say. At least it's actual pumpkin, and not 11 pounds of pumpkin pie spice. I appreciated that it wasn't too sweet, wasn't too heavily spiced, and wasn't frankly, an average pumpkin beer. I couldn't smell a lot of fruit on the nose - the aroma was bready and yeasty instead. The body was smooth, the mouthfeel was pretty nice. And then at the very end there might have been some cinnamon and other spice on the finish. It wasn't candy-like, but there was enough caramel malt sweetness to remind me that this was a fall beer. Really, not bad.

Field Mouse's Farewell

I'm definitely a sucker for a cute label, and the Pretty Things Beer and Ale Project out of Somerville, MA has some of the folksiest and most lovely labels around. I mean come on, how can you resist a little mouse with a satchel slung over his shoulder? Of course the beer has to taste good too, and thankfully, Pretty Things makes some amazing beer.

This camera doesn't really do the beer justice.

The Field Mouse's Farewell poured a nice cloudy golden color, with a fluffy white head and an enticing aroma of light brown sugar and apples. It actually did look a little like a pale unfiltered apple cider. All of that sweetness in the nose gave way quickly to a bracingly (and unexpectedly) bitter sip on the tongue. Pretty Things gets a little wordy in their description of this beer though. "The hops are Strisselspalt from Alsace and Bramling Cross from England. We combined Belgian and English yeast strains (inspired by the proximity of Calais and Kent?). Oldy woldy worldy." Really? Oldy woldy worldy? Stick to beer - your writing is weird.

I will say, though, that the hops profile really gave this beer a huge kick of flavor. Unfortunately, the larger bottles in which this beer is sold means that by the end of the first glass, my tongue was crying out for something to cut the bitterness. I wish that this beer had been a little more balanced - maybe some sweetness in with all of that hops bite. I do, however, commend Pretty Things for varying up the hops profile: a lot of American hoppy ales are pretty one-note, like drinking a pine cone. Field Mouse's farewell delivered a lot of citrus, some pine, and quite a lot of pepperiness too. It might have gone well with some smoked cheese or cured meat: something with richness and oomph that could stand up to the flavors of the hops. I liked it, but next time I'll try to find a friend to share it with.

Cruel Britannia

So I'm a pretty big fan of Britain. I spent two years of my life in the UK, and I enjoy a good pint of English bitter on a hot day. Or a cold day. Or really any day. Personal favorite favourite: Morland's Old Speckled Hen. Delicious stuff, and brewed not far from the dreaming spires I called home. But that's another beer for another post.

Which was why I was so excited about two British beers I was able to find in my local beer establishment, and why I was ultimately so let down by them.

First up, Wells' Bombardier. This poured a very promising ruddy amber, with a creamy off-white head with a decent staying power. From the looks of it, a good start.

Given the gorgeous look of this beer in the glass, I really expected better.

However, there was really no aroma to speak of. Granted, I poured the beer all the way to the top of the pint, so the glass was unable to trap any of the aromas. Clearly, I had to empty some space at the top of the glass by imbibing some of the liquid therein. Sadly, even the first sip was weak, a little bready and yeasty, but without the characteristic burnt caramel bite that I expect from a traditional English bitter. Additional attempts to coax an aroma out of the glass were roundly unsuccessful, and the mouthfeel got thinner and thinner as I continued to drink. It even developed, by the end of the bottle, a faint sourness, which was very out of place, and overall, the beer felt and tasted exceptionally watery.

Incidentally, I've provided the link to the Bombardier website, in case you are so interested. I cannot, however, in good conscience recommend clicking on it, however, as the site itself is designed very poorly, and the user experience assaults the sensibilities. Blah.

I also held out some promise for the Fuller's Vintage Ale 2009. Fuller's is the brewery of one of my favorite beers: London Pride, which is a wonderfully well-balanced session beer, as well as the previously and very well-reviewed London Porter, so I had very high hopes for the Vintage 2009. Sadly, this was also not to be.

Unlike the aforementioned watery mess of the Bombardier, the Vintage 2009 was awash in heavy flavors and aromas. The aroma was of sweet fruit, toffee, and candy, and the flavor was about the same, but with a kick of alcohol spiciness.

A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.

Unless the medicine is already as sweet as this stuff.

The pour was a deep amber, with a beautiful fluffy head that concentrated the aromas of cherries and, perhaps, cotton candy (or at least, severe amounts of sugar). The carbonation was pleasant and kept the sip interesting, but the flavor was severely disappointing. Instead of a molasses (treacle?) complexity that combines both bitter and sweet, this smacked of pure cane sugar. There were some banana esters that managed to escape being drowned out by the heavy sugar content. Instead of hops, the flavor of raw alcohol punctuated each sip, making for a truly bizarre counterpoint between cloying sweet and harsh spice. In the end, however, the syrupy sweetness of the beer won out and became very unpleasant, making the bottle a chore to finish.

It's almost enough to make me take up arms in revolution.

Happy New Beer!

This is a time for celebrations, and some celebrations are tailor-made for a nice drink. Said Napoleon, "Champagne! In victory, one deserves it; in defeat, one needs it." While I'm not as down on champagne as Christopher Hitchens, I don't often reach for champagne when I'm thinking of celebrating. Instead, I'm much more eager for a beer, a cocktail, even a glass of wine. The thin astringency of champagne just isn't my thing, I suppose.

Goose Island Bourbon County Stout

So I'm ringing in 2011 with a few choice beers. Chief among them, the Bourbon County, from Goose Island. Make no doubt, this is a very big beer, with a ton of alcohol flavor. Most of Goose Island's offerings are nicely balanced, but the alcohol brightness (13% ABV) was in the forefront of this one. Backup notes include caramel and creaminess, but the there's a lot of vanilla in each sip (from the oak of the bourbon barrels). Some bitterness at the end (again, alcohol and dark chocolate). Great with dark chocolate. I also tried this with a very salty dark pretzel, and this beer actually intensified the saltiness. After only several sips, this beer warmed from within. Sipping only - this is heavy stuff. Very nice, but pretty tough to drink a lot of.

I'm reminded of a few other days of celebration I've experienced this year. Moving backward through the year, there were a few delightful beers over the Christmas table this year, and while I'm going to review the full Sam Adams Winter Collection later, one stands out particularly celebration-worthy. Old Fezziwig is the beer for which the Winter Sampler is really known – it’s the best of the selection by far, and represents well the jollity and festivity of its Dickensian namesake. Old Fezziwig is redolent of ginger, orange, and caramel malt, maybe some cinnamon and nutmeg as well, which also mirrors the spendthrift attitudes that got Old Mr. Fezziwig into trouble, since those spices would have been rather dear in Dickens’ time. It’s pretty great stuff, since the maltiness provides the backbone that this beer needs. Overall, there’s a good reason folks love this beer – it’s warming and fun without being cloying or muddy.

Brewery Ommegang: Three Philosophers

Further backward still, Thanksgiving was a delicious feast of turkey, stuffing, gravy, and Ommegang's Three Philosophers Quadrupel Ale. This is a wonderful blend of ale and lambic that pours slightly auburn and tastes wonderfully of cherry and raisin. Lots of yeast and some slight alcohol burn. It went beautifully with the roasted turkey and with the cranberry sauce.

And at the start of the fall, on Rosh Hashanah, I tried He'Brew's Jewbelation. Since this is He'Brew's 13th iteration of this annual beer special, the brewery celebrated their own bar mitzvah with this beer. It's pretty heavy on the tongue and in the belly, being very dark and deep. There's a mellow and sweet flavor with lovely roasted malt smoothness, but then halfway through swallowing, the alcohol kicks in and punches hard. Low carbonation in the glass and on the palate, with dull lacing left on the glass, the label says it says it has 13 types of hops and 13 types of malt. In the battle between those hops and malt, the hops definitely lose, sadly overwhelmed by malt sweetness and alcohol bite. It's pretty delicious, but it's candy-sweet and tough to drink a lot of.

So from the Jewish New Year to the Gregorian one, have a great 2011. 2010 was pretty wacky, with Lagunitas releasing its yearly reflection in the form of Wilco Tango Foxtrot. Subtitle: A Malty, Robust, Jobless Recovery Ale. It's punchy, with a lot of alcohol to sweep 2010 out the door. Nevermind that WTF (no kidding) was released in March. It's delicious, with lots of coffee and dark chocolate, with amazingly well-balanced roasted malt notes. So a swift and hearty goodbye to 2010. Raise a glass to 2011. Or several.

Capital!

So despite my initial two posts, east coast means all of the east coast: not just New England. This correspondent just got back from DC, where he celebrated the nuptials of two lovely friends of his.

DC is a funny place. It's got a huge number of out-of-state license plates on its roads, for all who come to the capital to serve the nation and its many constituencies. And it doesn't really have a lot going for it, culinarily speaking either, except maybe for Ben's Chili Bowl. Damn, that's some good eating…

So I walk into a store, and there's Dogfish Head from Maryland, Sam Adams from Boston, even Bell's from Michigan and Kona, from Hawaii. The most local stuff - National Bohemian, isn't even from DC. So unless you know a dude who's basement brewing or are willing to chance it on some local brewpub, you're out of luck on this whole "locavores" thing.

Which isn't to say you can't find good beer: you're just not going to be drinking locally. I went out with friends to the Brickskeller, which is listed in Guinness as "the bar with the largest selection of commercially available beers." Now, that may be, but our night, at least 5 beers we ordered were unavailable. Also, if you're a wuss, they also serve Bud Light and Bud Light Lime. FYI, this was kind of a mob-review: I tried every one of these, but didn't finish all of them.

In honor of a class I took on Icelandic Saga, I tried the Viking Premium Gold, which is a very generic lager. While deeper flavored and having much more citrus than anything that's so golden really ought to have, Viking is still pretty thin. Side note: dear Vílfilfell, and all other breweries who are using plastic decals instead of easy-to-remove paper labels: cut it the hell out. I collect beer labels, and plastic decals are freaking hard to remove well. PS. dear Vílfilfell: make better beer.

Tried the Ace Cider from Sonoma, CA (sorry, Steve) but it was sour, thin, and pretty wretched overall. At least it wasn't as sweet as other hard apple ciders can get. Refreshing, but I'm just not a cider kind of guy.

Founder's Java Porter is delicious and creamy, with a lovely hint of vanilla. Hailing from Grand Rapids, Michigan, I didn't get a lot of coffee in this one. Nonetheless, a fantastic, jet black beer with real depth and smoothness.

Also up from Founders was the Cerise cherry fermented ale. This was nice, with a lovely cherry flavor that didn't taste artificial. The cherries (for which Michigan is famous) were refreshing and tart, and the fruit flavor faded out of the way into a delicious ale. If I didn't think I'd be laughed at, I'd probably order this more often.

While we're on the fruit thing, one friend ordered the Sea Dog Apricot Wheat Beer from Maine. Sadly, it smelled a lot nicer than it tasted: unbalanced and yeasty, this one didn't have much else to recommend it. Stale, nasty, thin, gross. No thank you. Actually, screw the "thank you." NO.

In the meantime, I also had a Fix 1864 Spezial. Beer Advocate says that this is a retired beer - I don't think it is, but that doesn't mean I don't think it should be. Supposedly, the "National Beer of Greece," this was about as unpleasant as one might think Greek beer would be. Thin, watery, and redolent of stale white bread. Also, it's brewed in America, so it's not like our hands are totally clean on this one either.

My girlfriend ordered a Williamsburg AleWerks [sic.] Washington's Porter, from Virginia. It's really dark, with a pretty intense head and nice lacing. However, it over-promised and under-delivered: it was thin, with a fruity raisin-ish flavor and an astringency that evoked stale burnt coffee. Disappointing.

Also tried a "Sweaty Betty" Blonde from Boulder, CO. Our waiter warned me off, but the name sounded too good to be true. And in truth, it was a lot less objectionable than the waiter had led me to believe. It's rather easy to drink, with good grapefruit and orange aromas, and very little hop on the tongue. Instead, it's pique comes from its rather heavy carbonation. Not great, but definitely not as bad as the waiter had said.

Finally, a real revelation of the night: Oskar Blues Old Chub Scottish Style Ale. $4.00. Canned. Everything that says "stay away from me and order something Belgian." Wow, was I wrong. This stuff is pretty fabulous. It's dark brown with no head to speak of and very few bubbles, and its beautifully smooth finish leaves almost no trace of its 8% abv. Great roasted flavors, malt sweetness, and wonderful balance. These suckers are dangerous.