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.

Crossing Cultures

We're maybe a month into the Year of the Rabbit, and it's been a good year for beer so far. I wasn't able to find a Chinese beer for my New Year's dinner, but a good Japanese lager did the trick.

Koshihikari Echigo - A golden lager for a prosperous year.

Japanese lagers tend to be pretty light colored - they're the color of pale gold, with a lot of grain and sugar on the nose. This one, Koshihikari Echigo, was no exception - I was hoping it would be a little more bitter, but there was a lot of rice and malt sugar that kind of threw off the balance a little bit. Usually, a sharp beer can cut through the oily finish of a Chinese stirfry and lift the more fresh, vegetal notes of steamed dishes. Without much of a hop presence, Echigo struggled with that second task, but its aggressive carbonation and crisp flavor shone through admirably.

And then, of course, there are the two most American celebrations this side of July 1: the Superbowl, and President's Day. The Superbowl is an event generally marked by its quantity and not its quality - its watchword is excess, and its patron saint just may be Animal House's Bluto. At the Superbowl, I cracked open another one of the Flying Fish Exit Series: Exit 4.

Flying Fish Exit 4. A taste of the turnpike.

Exit 4 is an "American Trippel," whatever that means. What I interpret that to be is a recipe that has its roots in Belgium, but which is then heavily inflated by American excesses. Kind of like rugby vs. football. Oh yes, I went there. As with much of NJ, this beer had two distinct phases: when ice-cold, this was a beautifully balanced beer, with wonderfully complex hop notes competing for prominence while imparting wonderful pops of bitterness and depth. The head was full of the aroma of resin, citrus, and all-around deliciousness. Unfortunately, once it warmed up, Exit 4 became sweaty, odiferous, and pretty nasty. The hops turned from fresh citrus to stale sourness, and what malty sweetness there had been was overwhelmed by an oddly acrid stench. Ladies and gentlemen, New Jersey. Ew.

Finally, President's Day: a day in which we celebrate our Presidents by buying automobiles. Makes sense to me. As good a time as any to break out the Sam Adams "American Originals" variety pack.

American Originals. Sarah Palin nowhere to be found.

From left to right, those are the Irish Red, Scotch Ale, Revolutionary Rye Ale, Noble Pils, Boston Lager, and White Ale. So Irish Red and Scotch Ale are American? Whatever. The ubiquitous Boston Lager hardly deserves a mention, and the White Ale was already a part of the Winter Sampler. For President's Day, I had a nice Revolutionary Rye Ale, which was a good deal redder than I had anticipated (I forgot to take a picture, but trust me). It had lovely orange and rye bread aromas, but I didn't really taste the rye on the tongue. Perhaps it's my proximity to New York and its caraway-studded rye loaves, but I'm a lot pickier about rye flavor than I used to be. I guess I wanted more sweetness, depth, and complexity. I also think I wanted more difference from the standard Sam Adams, and I missed that too. It's not a bad beer, but it's not different enough, I think, to be called Revolutionary.

Gauguin

One of my favorite art history class moments is linking up the Gauguin painting "Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?" with the Calvin and Hobbes strip quoting that very strip. I learned two things that day: that Calvin and Hobbes were much deeper than I had ever imagined, and that I needed to learn more about art history if I was going to appreciate the world around me.

Used entirely without permission.

The turning of the calendar always brings out my more contemplative and reflective side, and this is no exception. I've moved to New Jersey, and I've had to grapple with the real questions of what I want out of life, and whether I'm willing to pay out the nose in rent to get it. Answer to part (b): not really.

So it's in that spirit that I review three beers that represent where I'm coming from, what I am, and where I'm going.

Where do I come from?

Just north of the City of Oxford is a town called Bicester, which is home to Oxfordshire Ales. A little over 4 years ago, I left New Jersey to attend Oxford University, where I converted dollars into pounds, and further converted pounds into pints. It was glorious. Oxfordshire Ales' Pride of Oxford takes me back to those summer days sipping session beers in lieu of library reading. It's really nice and beery, with a certain sweetness that doesn't feel like it came from malt (maybe even some banana esters at the back of the sip). It pours a straw-gold, with a very thin head, so the hop aroma isn't as pronounced as it could be. It's light on the tongue, crisp without being sour, and bitter without being astringent. Rather, it's very refreshing, with an aftertaste that leaves you wanting more instead of coating the throat and punching you in the head. At 4.2% ABV, this is a nice beer for a lazy day.

What am I?

Boston's own Harpoon brewery is truly a hometown favorite. Their Chocolate Stout is a jet-black pour with a head that dissipates almost instantly. The nose is redolent of dark chocolate, and the beer is creamy and rich in the mouth, with wonderful dark chocolate flavor and hints of bitter black coffee. However, its weird metallic aftertaste is a little off. This beer feels much stronger than its 5.9% ABV would suggest, and the bitterness is borne of the alcohol and not of the hops. As such, there's a burn in the aftertaste that makes this beer pretty good with actual dark chocolate, but not with food.

Where am I going?

Finally, I started my new job today, and Flying Fish's Exit Series of beers seems like a great way to start my new employment in Newark, New Jersey. Specifically, I'm celebrating my new employment with their Exit 13 Chocolate Stout, which attempts to channel the Port of Newark. Fair enough, since they're actually one exit off for the downtown. But whatever.

Exit 13 is dark and forbidding, with an inky pour and a thick brown head. Immediately, one smells sweet toasted malts and caramel, which is very promising. Flavors of creamy milk chocolate win the day on this one, with only a hint of maybe lemon citrus on the very tail end. The finish is dry, but not aggressive, and both the carbonation and flavor are smooth and full. This, I have to say, is a good sign: I think I'm going to enjoy New Jersey.