Anyway, it's all silly and Stephen Beaumont said all that needed to be said about it a week after the original piece appeared.

Three bottles of beer on the desk, three bottles of beer...
They've been staring at me for a week or more, empties stacked up against the bookshelf to remind me to comment about them, all picked up during my last visit to Capone's.

Bell's Hell Hath No Fury Ale, which I'd had previously on draught at Drafting Room Exton is a very nice dark strong ale (7.5% abv) which is something a bit out of the ordinary for the Michigan brewery. I like it a lot. Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald Porter is an old favorite from Ohio and this latest bottle did nothing to change my opinion that it is one of my favorite brews and at least semi-sessional at 4.8%. Blackout Stout, also from Great Lakes, was new to me, however, and is an ass-kicker at 9%. Hey, if your ass is gonna get kicked, this is the way to do it. Very impressive...and I didn't need to see the last half of that basketball game I was watching when I opened the bottle anyway.

[Posted 4:55pm edt]

17 March 2007
One happy Irishman.
I just got back from a visit to Sly Fox Phoenixville, where I enjoyed a couple of beers with that fine broth of a lad, Brian O'Reilly, who was in fine fettle and good humor this St. Patrick's Day. And, indeed, why should he not be?

First there was Joe Sixpack's love poem to O'Reilly's Stout in yesterday's Philadelphia Daily News, and today he learned that Food & Wine Magazine says Phoenix Pale Ale is a "MustTry" item for 2007.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Instigator Doppelbock 2007 has just been bottled (I just had my first taste from a bottle I brought home with me and it may be the best version ever), Panacea Barleywine is on draught at Phoenixville and is getting absolute raves, all the Bock Festival/Goat Race beers are on track and Royal Weisse cans are in the house (or close enough), meaning that the first canning will happen on schedule this coming week, with an official release date set for April 1.

Hey. even for the dour Black Irish, some days the sun just shines too bright to be ignored.

That Brooklyn Beer Dinner.
The Monk's Tuesday night dinner was, as I said in an earlier post, as good a showcase for Brooklyn as I've ever seen for any brewery. The combination of the beers poured and a near-perfect meal was just plain outstanding. As also posted earlier, I held off posting about this in any detail in hopes of talking in more detail about some of the newer beers with brewmaster Garrett Oliver. That didn't happen, so I'll just have to struggle along on my own.

The evening began with the very fine Saison de Brooklyn 2005, a GABF Gold Medal winner from Garrett's own cellar. The Amuse beer was Brooklyn Cuvee D'Achouffe (draught), paired with a wonderful Salmon Mousse in pastry cups so flaky and perfect it was almost sinful. This beer is a collaborative effort; Oliver went over to brew a batch at Les 3 Fourquets in Belgium (the brewpub owned by Brasserie D'Achouffe) and Pierre Gobron and Christian Bauweraerts of Achouffe then came over here to brew.

Brooklyn Local 1, which I first sampled at the General Lafayette event a couple of weeks back, is going to be a Big Smash Success for Brooklyn, trust me. This beer, if I read my notes correctly, was first released as Fortitude last year as a draught-only brew. It is a strong golden ale made with German barley and malts, Mauritius sugar and Belgian yeast. This version is refermented entirely in the bottle and is a "wow!" beer of the first order. It was poured with Pan-seared Pennsylvania Rainbow Trout, done to perfection.

The now classic East India Pale Ale was appropriately matched with spicy Thai Glazed Quail with "spring roll" stuffing. That was followed by another Brooklyn standard, Brown Ale, and a very tasty Smoked Pork Loin with Chipotle sauce, with caramel notes in both nicely playing off one another. The final entree´ was mini-filets of Roast Duck in a great Cherry sauce, accompanied by draught Smoked Weissbock, another new Brooklyn offering which I first had at General Lafayette. A wonderful beer, this, 8% abv with a spicy wheat nose and subtle notes of smoke.

Dessert was Chocolate Coffee Cheesecake accompanied by Black Chocolate Stout. What, you were expecting Pennant Ale?

"Maybe I could kill this Lew Bryson guy." Those were her exact words.
By "her," I mean her, but I've decided not to tell the story in any detail to protect both the innocent and the guilty. Let's just say it involved Bryan and Adam of the Brew Lounge; one woman who was Brian's wife and another who was not; a train ride during which I tried to sell the latter on a complicated (but quite believable, I thought) explanation about how Mr. Bryson, whose name had come up, was but a fictional character I'd created under which I publish my lesser writings; some discussion about whether it is okay for Bryan to refer to me in this fashion (if you read the entire paragraph in which this dastardly description appears, you will perhaps understand that I am being a perfect gentleman here, anxiety-wise), and a discussion of where each character in our little drama might best fit in the fictionalized version of our momentous encounter should I decide to write same.

You can figure it out, really you can. If not, I'm am always susceptible to being bribed with a beer or two.

I will say this in closing: that Beer Lounge? It might just might be a cooler place to hang out than you'd think from its bright and airy online image.

It's always the quiet ones, innit?

Now here's a bar bet.
When I was first scheduled to have eye surgery March 14, we had our largest snow storm of the year, cancelling it.

When the surgery actually happened, March 7, we had our second largest snow storm of the year.

When I went in yesterday for my post-op checkup with the surgeon, we were blessed with snow, sleet and freezing rain, despite the fact that the temperature hit the 70s earlier in the week.

I still got one eye to go, so you might want to lay some cash with a gullible rube or two, taking the position that we'll have a surprise mid-spring snowfall on Wednesday, April 11.

Jes' sayin'.

[Posted 6:45pm edt]

15 March 2007
Tuesday at Monk's.
The Brooklyn Brewing beer dinner at Monk's Cafe´ the other night was, if that's possible, even better than the Michael Jackson one on Sunday. What it definitely was, as I told both Tom Peters and Garrett Oliver on my way out the door, was perhaps the finest dinner presentation in terms of exposing attendees to the full range of beers available from a single brewery that I can recall. Five courses and dessert, plus seven beers, and not even the hint of a clinker in any of that.

I'll go into more detail tomorrow or over the weekend; I'm hoping for a call back from Garrett so I can discuss the new Local 1 and Smoked Weissbock with him in more detail. Since Tuesday evening ended with an, um, spirited discussion between the two of us about whether or not everything posted on the internet is pure crap, I want to make sure to quote him exactly right.

Also, I need to figure out how to explain the blonde on the train going home who offered to off Lew Bryson. That'll take some thought.

The I'm getting kinda jealous post.
Speaking of Mr. Lew, given his taking over the world with his Session Beer shtick and pimping out his puppy to boot, he's pretty much using up all the air in the room in terms of this drinks-writing thing these days. I'm gasping here.

Then there's Victory's 2007 European Pils Tour from April 12-22. It's long past time to sign up for that, not that I could afford it anyway, but I can surely spare a few minutes to envy those who will be going.

Wow, as they say. Read the day-by-day descriptions and you'll be even more blown away. About the only saving grace I can dig out is that at least I won't be confronted with the final day decision whether to hit even more new breweries or instead have a second afternoon here. That'd be a toughie.

Another upside, actually, is that this probably means the better part of two weeks spared from a half dozen or so Richard Ruch "funny" emails a day. Then again, he'll likely unleash spam hell when he gets back.

Lew ascending and journeys not partaken. None of this can be good for my delicate psyche.

[Posted 11:28am edt]

12 March 2007
Last night at Monk's.
Michael Jackson dinners at Monk's Cafe´ are always special. The Man is in the house, there's electricity in the air and everybody rises to the occasion. Michael was in full digression mode which, as I've said many times before, is fine with me. I can figure out the beers for myself and prefer hearing his tales of meat pie lunches and writing for a penny a line in the good old days and of being confronted by a gaggle of soccer hooligans in a Glascow pub and confounding them while they debated which of two competing factions should pound on him based upon his religion by announcing he was Jewish, leading to the inevitable question "are you a Protestant Jew or a Catholic Jew?" Last night, as he rambled hither and yon, the man quoted Dylan Thomas and Woody Allen ("machines are anti-Semitic") and described one of Lew Bryson's trademarked and ear-piercing guffaws as akin to "spontaneous fermentation." What's not to like?

Anent that Allen quote, we had evidence on scene that technology in general is more likely "anti-beer geek" as the ineffable MJ, the inimitable Fergus Carey and the inevitable George Hummel fumbled and bumbled with attaching Michael to a sound system and getting it work. The invisible Mr. Peters, it seems, was wisely hiding in his office.

In the rising to the occasion category, Adam Glickman and his kitchen staff did just that, per usual. After a welcoming glass of Ommegeddon (nice start), the five-course meal began with Chicons au Jambon, which turned out to be Belgian endive wrapped in Ardennes ham in a cheese sauce. The sauce was perhaps a bit overwhelming but the ham and endive combination was wonderful. This was accompanied by Vapeur Saison de Pripaix, one of my two favorite beers of the night. The Country Pate´ which followed was one of the high spots, a huge and extraordinarily tasty slice, accompanied by a lentil-based puree and a pair of girkins. A striking dish this one, matched quite nicely with Fantome Bris Bon Bon.

Escargot en Croute came next, De Ranke XX Bitter alongside. Personally, I might have preferred the escargot without the pastry wrapping, perhaps with just a bit of oil and garlic, but that's quibbling. The high point of this course, though, was the match between the De Ranke and the bitterly tangy greens accompanying the snails. Wow. Pan Seared Red Snapper with an amazing watercress sauce followed, with a little something called Saison Dupont pouring with it. Going into the evening, I thought it would be cool to do this sort of dinner and not included the best saison in the world, just because they could, but one sip reminded me that cool ain't always best.

That's a pretty nice meal right there, innit? You figure it's time to move onto dessert? Not at Monk's, 'cause the mandatory Big Honkin' Piece o' Meat course needs must happen. This time it wasn't quite honkin', which is defined as hanging off both sides of the plate (although someone suggested they may be employing a bit of subterfuge by using larger plates), but big enough, a perfectly cooked pork chop accompanied by sliced potatoes, Brussels sprouts (bet a lot of those went back to the kitchen; some things are not meant to be consumed, says I) and, reportedly, apples. Very, very good (for all my complaining, I ate it right down to the bone) and accompanied by my second favorite beer of the night, Blaugies La Moneuse, which turned out to be highly carbonated, somewhat tripel-ish and wonderful.

Dessert was Bete Noire (great name!), a flourless chocolate cake with chocolate ganache (a blend of chocolate and cream), which was well served by the draughtMoinette Bruin which was the final beer of the night. You know, one of the great traditions of every Monk's dinner is awaiting the arrival of the Dessert Lady. If she's on time (which means there before dinner is over) as she was last night, she can be seen running up the sidewalk and into the alley and down to the back door into the kitchen. If she's late, she comes bursting through the front door, accompanied by grateful sighs from those who recognize that all is again right with the world.

Tomorrow night we do it all over again, with Brooklyn Brewing's Garrett Oliver in the house. Will this terrible burden ever be lifted from my shoulders?

Lord, I hope not.

First he tried to run me over, then he wanted me to pay his bar bill.
When we arrived at Monk's last night, I stopped just sort of the curb after crossing the street to say something to Patrick Mullin of Drafting Room Exton who was off to repark the car (didn't work, he still got a ticket) when I realized that the car in the drop-off spot in front of the cafe had been thrown into reverse and was coming back at me full speed. I jumped up onto the sidewalk just in time as many of my dearest friends and acquaintances cheered. Oddly, none of them had seen fit to warn me of impending doom.

The driver, it turns out, was Stewart Brewing's Ric Hoffman, who's becoming as much a regular character in this ongoing tale of the absurd as The Big One and The Other one, only more dangerous. Hey, sometimes the story takes control of the writer. You just go with the flow.

I was seated far enough away from Hoffman once inside that I felt secure enough not to have to use a food taster or keep my glass covered, but he wasn't done with me by far. After things had wrapped up, here came Tom Peters with one of those bill holder things, an item sure to strike fear into the heart of any beer writer. "The Stewart's table said you were paying their bill," he laughed, handing it to me. You have probably noticed that hell did not freeze over last night, so rest assured that did not happen.

There are those who accuse me of making Hoffman up. They contend that he's just a fun character I use to poke fun at myself so as to appear vaguely human. Not so, not so at all...and thanks to Bryan Kolesar, one of the proprietors at the very fine Brew Lounge website, I have photographic evidence:

That's me, of course, rather ineptly banging the gong in the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archeology and Anthropology Saturday afternoon to let the crowd at the first session know that the good times were about to end, with Museum Catering's Bruce Nichols and Anna Bauer looking on. And that's Hoffman in the background. It's not quite clear exactly what he's doing to that poor woman, but I'm pretty sure it's illegal in several states, certainly Delaware.

I do not make this stuff up. I couldn't.

[Posted 9:55am edt]

11 March 2007
Philly Beer Week 2008.
If you're any kind of beer person at all, you've undoubtedly heard the news about this event by now. If not, shame on you, but you can catch up by reading the original online announcement posted by Lew Bryson here and/or this boiled-down into news format story (with a bit of added background) posted by me at the Beer Yard.

This is exciting stuff, of course, although it's still early and it's hard to judge the overall feel of the thing. A somewhat similar event, although not on as large a scale as this one apparently hopes to achieve, has grown up in San Francisco in recent years. It's called Beerapalooza and is anchored by the Toronado Barleywine Festival on one end and the annual Celebrator Beer News anniversary bash on the other. It seems to have worked out very well and grown each year.

The esteemed group which has engineered all this has put out a Mission Statement, as you can see from Lew's report. That worries me, I have to admit. For one thing, secret cabals just don't issue mission statements, that's really bad form. For another, I hate mission statements 'cause they reek of corporateness (if that's not a word, it should be) and business school jargon.

Also got me a few questions to which I'll seek out the answers, perhaps as early as tonight at the Monk's dinner. Just for the fun of it, let me phrase them in familiar cliche´ format:

WHO'S YOUR DADDY? In other words, who came up with the original idea? Here's what Lew said:

This is not just me (and a good thing, too). This is conceived and backed by a combination of people who've been making beer happen in this area for years. Tom Peters of Monk's Cafe. Bruce Nichols of UPenn Museum Catering. Curt Decker of Nodding Head. George Hummel of Home Sweet Homebrew. Mark Edelson of Iron Hill. Chris Depepe of the Philly Craft Beer Festival. Tom Kehoe of Yards. Don "Joe Sixpack" Russell. Matt Guyer of the Beer Yard. Gene Muller of Flying Fish. Bill Covaleski of Victory. Carol & Ed Stoudt. Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head.