Full Tilt at Half Acre.

Their beer tastes of frontier.
The newsboys proclaim, “Gold has been discovered at Hopleaf”, and this news sweeps the city like O’Leary’s bovine fire brigade.
Seven Half Acre barrels cracked. The pioneers pour in, forming a storming snake of a queue. The volume of anticipation pounds the floorboards as the faithful stand poised to harvest the fruits of this fertile Half Acre.

On tap? Double Daisy Cutter, Guajillo Baume, Shewolf IPA (3 Floyds Collaboration), Freedom of ’78 (Short’s Brewing Collaboration), Bairn Farmhouse, Longthai Rainbow Rye and StickyFat American Dark Ale.
Consistent with frontier forts, HA’s offerings reflect both sophisticated islands and rough hewn hideouts.

Within an hour and half, the vein taps out and the claim runs dry.
Summer is over.
A Pause to Refresh: Consider for a moment, the spectrum represented in those seven Half Acre offerings. It gives me the goose bumps.

Ain’t no cure for the Summertime Brews.
It’s hot out. I park on a side street and am greeted by a waft of malty breeze. With an eagerness of step that telegraphs my purpose, I take a short turn of a block and a half to arrive at the modest door of Half Acre brewery & Craft Beer Emporium.
Inside, young people with easy smiles and relaxed posture sample beer at their leisure. Upon my entrance they turn as one to bid me welcome, and ask with a casual air that belies the serious and masterful current that runs deep in this generation of brewers, “Would I care for a beer?”

I’m at Half Acre, and I am home.

Fearless young men in their brewing machines.
If you don’t know Half Acre, let’s take a stroll together.
Situated on Lincoln Avenue, mid-block, east side, two blocks south of Montrose.
Half Acre’s narthex features a glowing reception and a tasting room populated by a team of spigots promising an outpouring of good beer.

Mad mountain men inhabit the world of Half Acre. Wild and wooly wizards of Ol’ Foamy, fearless and bold adventurers all. They brew the way others skateboard or surf or drive on the Kennedy—at will, what ever they will, with a prodigious output of the weird and wonderful for our consumption.
The press of offerings is relentless, one interesting offering after another being proffered. I’m buying a tent and camping by the door.

Half Acre @ Hopleaf—September 29, 2010.

A Evening Full of Surprises.
Before we begin, how did these guys get so dang lucky? They breathe rarified air.
(Lest ye worry, every pour was a half pint.)

Freedom of ‘78: in conjunction with Joe Short (Short’s Brewing) and Jonathan Cutler (Piece). No pikers them.
If you fashioned a hop cone from a rambutan or mango, you’d nail it. Made with 1000 lbs. of Ecuadorian guava, this brew walks a tightrope that is dry yet fruity, wheat yet full—that unique tropical tang tangos with hops bitterness. Curious, intriguing and very drinkable. Weird and worthy of a try—if there was any left.

Double Daisy Cutter:
A touch of ‘Freedom’ without the fruit. Substantial hoppiness with clouds and dust not found in the aforementioned. A touch confused, the big and bitter, alcohol laden DDC is a double hop knee drop on your tongue. Here’s a limb to climb: Does ‘Freedom’ and ‘Double Daisy’ represent the HA signature hop profile? More research is needed. Worthy of a try—if there was any left.

Sticky Fat American Dark Ale:
First, an aside: I’ve partaken of  numerous American darks, dark IPAs and even black IPAs–and though customary beer labeling has gone by the board—these beers have proven to be little more than hoppy porters. Not bad in itself, but when the brew’s malt fist leads to the kisser, it ain’t no PA, Rocky.

Sticky Fat ADA: Now ‘The Dark Side’ is a thing of joy and delicate balance. Malt increases, yet hops increase further still. A close run race, with hops clearing the finish first. Malty bittersweet marries Mr. Whole Leaf Wet Hops—a little rough around the edges like homespun—it serves up dry, bright and bubbly by the magician’s art. Worthy of a try—if there was any left.

Longthai Rainbow Rye: (from an earlier adventure).
A liquid travel log. Full figured yet a light, bright farmhouse saison brewed with long Thai peppercorns. Belgium-esque shenanigans meet genteel pepper pillow fight. A whisper of sweet and sour, a touch of tundra, a dash of malt, and a smidgen of eastern spice. Interesting lighter fare and probably worth a try—oh, and there may be some left on tap at Bad Apple.

Guajillo Baume: Chocolate Rye American Stout
Take a frying pan. Dry roast Oaxacan cocoa pods, pine nuts, a few coffee beans, and a handful of Guajillo chile peppers. Grind and drink. Deep, rich, effervescent, textured like peasant’s bread, a burning bitter molé negro in a glass. Yi Chiwawa. Yummy and worthy of a try—if there was any left.

Shewolf IPA (3 Floyds Collaboration): (anecdotal tasting)
Darn. Reported to be exactly what you’d expect from yet another deliciously big, hoppy brew. Will it never end?

Give Half Acre your FULL attention.
Find out for yourself why your glass is never “Half Empty” at Half Acre. Visit these hearty frontiersmen and score a bomber or growler of their wares at Half Acre Beer Co. 4257 N. Lincoln Ave Chicago, IL 60618 or visit them online at  http://www.halfacrebeer.com/

Cheers. BL.

Berry Good Brews News.

To most Johns and Joans, Juniper berries say gin.

But long before those crazy 17^th century Niederlanders cooked up gin, Egyptians, Greeks, Eastern Indians, Romans, even Native Americans used juniper for anything and everything. Everything! Female contraception, ‘the Cure for the ‘Rheumatiz’, spice for wild game and kraut, even as a ‘dieting aid’ to suppress appetite during famine. Juniper adorned the ancient’s rustic beauty as jewelry beads and made the scene in the good old days for ‘juicing’ by classic Olympians—though Theogenes of Thasos denies all allegations.

Since hops weren’t cultivated until the 8^th century, Fins fashioning a rye-and-juniper beer known as sahti–flavored with both juniper berries and branches–centuries before they skied rings around the Ruski.
By the way, as juniper berry is the female seed cone produced by the various species of juniper conifers, it’s no big leap for brew dogs to jump from seed cone—to hops.

Ol’ Foamy fast-forward.
Given the craft beer revolution’s insatiable appetite for new brewing ideas, there’s small surprise that juniper is jumping.
e.g. Dogfish Head’s Sah’tea and Vintage brewery’s Sahti (out of Madison) both feature that revived female voice.

Out last night with that intrepid beer-hunter Hopkaiser. The Map Room offered one of Rouge’s collaborative, barrel aged ‘John John’ specialty beers.
• Rouge John John Juniper Pale Ale (Concocted from a myriad of malts, Styrian, Golding, Amarillo & Rogue Hopyard Willamette hops, Juniper berries, and then aged in spruce gin barrels). Dry, peppery and sour—this baby sees Belgium lambic covering first base. Interesting collection of doorknobs—piney, spicy, bitter medicine pill for what ales you. Weird, yet worth trying.

Kitchen sinks and swim.
Juniper. Rosemary. Smoked Bacon. Agave. Peppercorns. Chili. Rose hips. Oysters. Mustard seed. Toasted hemp. Pizza (figures that it follows hemp). Even Caphe Cut Chon coffee beens (found in the droppings of the Civet-jungle cat) are all possible fixings on the beer ingredient buffet.
No one has been more surprised than I by the inventiveness and prolific growth resulting from the craft beer phenom. Exploration and daring (cat) do seem part and parcel of the new breed of brewer’s DNA.
True, not every offering is spot on, but risk-filled and dynamically creative brewing continually creates the cure for the common 12oz. beer curl.

So we exhort ye. Keep searching young ladies and sirs—for the mystical ‘Britney’ to fill our grails. With you bold brewers on watch, much wild adventure awaits us beer enthusiasts in the years to come.

Cheers. BL

Munster Monster.

Welcome to the Floyd.
Which one is pink? Think again. These boys are RED hot at making cram-packed brews. Every square milliliter is chocked full of flavor and brimming with their unique take.
I’ve been hitting Three Floyds since I was middle aged (sigh*), trudging barefoot through miles of snow, traffic and Chicago Bear’s games to let the Floyd flow.
Peering back through the mists of time: I was lending a hand at a Slow Foods event in the gallery district of Chicago. I think Harding was president then. T’was there that I bumped headlong into the three caballeros. Begging a taste, I knew then and there that everything was different—a world transformed. And though I knew better, I intoned with the Bard, “I’ll stop the world and melt with you.”

Floyd Flash-backwash.
Here’s a tale to make grown men weep.
When first a fan, I came across ‘Three Fs’ finery in Dekalb, Illinois. My son was in school for fine art. I maintained that siren’s pipedream of finding a cherry vintage Porsche in a barn for a couple of large. This worked out better.
In one particular ‘beverage’ store, I came upon a case of Dreadnaught. I offered to take the whole fleet off their hands.
Price per bomber? $3.95. Weep yes, but tears of joy.

HK and I made the journey last night, to celebrate life with a good Joe named George. There was a 20 minute line—one line worth waiting for—and one well earned as result of a remarkable flow-tilla of great beers over the years.
Want to impress friends, family and foreigners with what’s going on on the beer front? Go Floyd. Ohhhh, Andy.

Let the love Floyd.
How do you mend a broken heart? The Sox may have taken a bath, but we made out pretty well.
• Gorsch Fock Helles Lager: Big for the style, yet light, bright, clean, with a light touch ‘o’ the hops.
• Lord Admiral Nelson ESB: By British Bitter we mean American Revolution. At most joints this is a PA and possibly an IPA. Big, rich, yummy bitter butter. Fabulous.
• ‘Sand Pebbles’ American Brown: Roasty, toasty, malty tasty, yet quiet and clean as a bosun’s whistle.
• Dreadnaught IIPA: The best big, clean liquid Christmas tree in a bottle.

Need I say it? All are Worth Trying.

Our choice brews where paired with comidas a la Floyd. Ladies and Germs, they have a good kitchen—slinging tasty snacks and noshes (Scottish Eggs and Pommes Frites), bodacious burgers (mit pretzel roll, gorgonzola and thick-cut bacon, baby), sandwiches, Za (they’re Piece Pals), and other munchy-wunches.

No air guitar with these heavy-up boys, as every beer comes with extra.
Some accuse the Floyds of breaking the rules, of busting a big move on every style until there is no style. When hoisting a beautifully big and balanced brewski—who gives a flying Floyd.

“I’ll show you style. Floyd style.”—Liberty V.
Just do the math, and know that almost all offerings come plus, plus, plus—to sharpen you up for a little ultra tasting.

Cheers. BL.

Repeat That Northern Beer Beat.

Sadly, summer is drawing to a close with frightening rapidity.
So Hopkaiser and I joined forces with the spirit of Richard Crenna, and striking out from Chicago, made one last savage thrust into the heart of Wisconsin.
Madison that is. Movie stars. Swimming pools. And fried cheese curds.

First. Is there no end of great new beers?
Secondly, Wisconsin once again proves a pioneer’s paradise.

For them that like adventure, know that we hit some of the best of the bold—Vintage, Great Dane, Ale Asylum and Tyranena.
The Wisconsin Summer Solstice Beer Lovers Festival in June was our initiation. T’was there on a perfect summer’s day, that HK and I met and toasted Wisconsin’s new breed of brewers. And tasted many a fine brew.
The breweries that follow make suds that rise again and again to the top of the list.

Four Fermenting Feathers in Madison’s Cap.

Sir Vintage leads the charge.
From a Chi-eye view, we worked Madison from left to right, stopping at Vintage Brewing Company first.
Scott Manning, ‘V’s rock-star brew master is the second reason we came to call. The beer was the first.
• Derby Girl ESB: A refreshing, all evening beer with a nice hop presence, this ‘Bitter’ is bigger and better than Britain’s name same. Worth Trying.
• Palindrome Pale Ale: An APA of remarkable balance. Bright and full. Hoppy and malty paired to perfection, 44 IPUs are plenty when applied artfully. Tasty coming and going. Worth Trying.
• Alpentraum Weizenbock:(Sampled) Amazing strong dark wheat made with smoked malt—light, bright, effervescing, dark, sweet, and smoky. Fabulous. And dang sad that we were reduced to only a taster. Worth Trying and perhaps worth moving to Madison for.
• Rosemary:(Sampled) A Rosemary infused, cask conditioned experimental brew that suggests that Rosemary is kissing cousin to Mr. Hoppy. Going green never tasted so good. Worth Trying—if it isn’t already gone.

Scott Free.
Scott came out to talk beer and make generous with his brew-offspring. HK and I drank in his scrumptious offerings and infectious enthusiasm for all things brewed.
We also chatted up ‘V’s sous-chef A.J., a man with vision for vittles cooked and paired with beer. These guys are going places. Check them out at vintagebrewingco.com and then go get a beer.

Great Dane stands tall.
Next stop, downtown, within the shadow of the capital building. Great Dane’s groovy digs speak of today and days gone by. The barkeep was good enough to turn us on to a brew that reflected GD’s philosophy sketched in ol’ foamy.
• Black Watch Scotch Ale: A peat smoked, cask conditioned Scottish style ale, with those room tempature, low effervescent characteristics you expect from hand-pulled pleasure. Deep, complex, resonant bass notes complimented by an ambient malty sweet aria. Sipping stuff. Worth Trying.
• Tri-Pepper Pils:(Sampled) Hot pepper light with a dash of Jalapeño green. Hot. Dry. Bitter. Peppers. Get out your dowsing rod.

Bark as good as it’s bite.
Our tight schedule recommended that we move on—before we became tight. One tasting did no service to Great Dane’s line-up, and HK and I look forward to a longer stay.
See what we’re baying about at http://www.greatdanepub.com

Lock me in the Ale Asylum.
And throw away the key.
My long-standing nickname has been ‘Hop Whore’, which makes Ale Asylum all comfort zone. For Chicagoans, think ‘brewed in the manner’ of Three Floyds (Munster, Indiana) where every beer delivers big, bad, bold bang for the brew buck. Asylum offers taste and IPAsters galore.
• Ambergeddon amber ale: As west-coast style, each aspect is big as California’s debt. When ample hops and malt collide in proper proportion, the results are full, clean and eminently drinkable. Think Reese’s. You got malt in my hops—you got hops in my malt. Worth Trying.
• Hopalicious APA via Ballistic IPA: I drew the short straw. Now don’t get me wrong, Hopalisious delivers everything you want in a solid, hoppier than usual pale ale. But HK ordered the Ballistic IPA and it’s the bomb. Hops in profusion, 105mm malt support, this is a clean, full flavored, beautifully colored citrus explosion. Worth Trying? Yeah, baby, yeah.
• Satisfaction Jackson:(Sampled) “Is his name. Is his fame.” Talkin’ ‘bout the three hundred pound hop in the room. Nuff said. Worth Trying.

Crazy about beer.
Happily, one of the Asylum’s knowledgeable wardens came over to chat, and prescribe some medication. Thanks to Otto Dilba, we learned more—both aurally and orally—about the mad, mad, mad, mad world of the Asylum, craft brewing, marketing, competition, beer travel, style platforms, art of packaging, etc. This is a must place for beer-nutters.
Knock yourself out at http://www.aleasylum.com

Tyranena no longer a mystery.
Our fantastic voyage researching the ‘Brewing’ straits, upon the intrepid USS Brewmobile, landed us at last on the friendly shores of Lake Miles, home of Tyranena Brewery.
“Oh bury me, by Tyranena Brewery.” Comfortable, familiar space, friendly denizens, beer garden, eclectic and far-reaching selection of ‘Liquid Courage’—how else you going to run the ratlines in dirty weather.
• Gemuetlichkeit Oktoberfest: One reason why Oktoberfest is celebrated in September—there’s no waiting for such a full flavored, handsomely balanced hop and malt hornpipe. Worth Trying.
• Scurvy IPA: The other side of IPAs. While some sport denser, stormier hearts, this IPA unfurls those sparkling grapefruit and orange citrus notes that compliment a perfect summer evening’s sunset, sitting on the Ty’s quarterdeck. Worth Trying.

The Brew-oceanographical Society.
All the adventure in the world, with all the comforts of home. This is the easiest, friendliest way to sign on—and travel the high seas of brewskis. Visit them at http://www.tyranena.com

Madison is home to giants.
They might be? They are.
Touring the beers and breweries of Madison has been both a treat and an eye opener—and a trip worth making if you’re interested in that loveliest of libations.
Make it a day. Or two and stay over night. I’m telling you folks; Madison joins the ranks of them which offer the best that beer-dom has to offer.

Should you venture forth, drink WATER while you drive. Then make room for food, room for convivial conversation, room for pacing and room for sleeping bags.
TIP: We find that progressing from lighter to fuller styles, and maltier to hoppier formulas (robust porters, stouts can pile up, yet that bitter bud punches through) work best when tasting and taking notes—allowing each voice to be heard over it’s neighbor.
TIP: Half pints, shorts ‘n’ samples. Make sure you get the bear, and not the other way ‘round.
TIP: Order plenty of water while working, to keep the palate refreshed and the ol’ bod hydrated. Critical.
TIP: Hotel, motel, Easy Boy, Bag.

Check out the Wisconsin Brewers Guild member’s page at http://www.wibrewersguild.com for more worthwhile destinations.

Bon Voyage.
Cheers. BL

Beer Strike.

HK and I went bowling last night. Settin’ ‘em up, knockin’ ‘em down.
This particular game involves splitting and thoughtfully considering four ‘Beer Pins’ in four frames.

The head pin consisted of Dogfish Head’s version of the mucho delicioso Saison du Buff (Stone, Victory and DfH collaboration), succeeded by Goose Island’s Belgiums in a Box—featuring Sofie, Matilda and Pere Jacques.

Frame #1: Saison du Buff.
Refresher Course: Saison du Buff is brewed with parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, and has been brewed thrice, once at each brewery using the same recipe.
Suggestion: collect the whole set and have a ‘Blind-man’s Buff” tasting for your brew buds.

SDB is crisp, effervescent and green as all outdoors. If memory serves (unlikely at this age), this version of SDB serves those quintessentially Belgium citrus (lightly sweet) yeast notes up front—which rise from the bottom like bubbles to support and showcases that marvelous herbaceous giant, lying comfortably on the hop bed of bitterness.
How strange if ones subjective view could color a beer—but I’m pretty dang positive I can detect that signature Dogfishy something (Their alcohol tang?). Worth trying (all versions of  ’du Buff).

Frame #2: Goose Island Matilda.
Matilda offers a ‘classic’ American take on a Belgium pale ale. Which is to say “more of everything”—like two, two, two yeasts in one. ‘Mattie’ is fermented and re-fermented to add depth of character—she’s a yeasty fruity spicy sweetie-pie. Lots of flavors, decent hop presence, all overshadowed by prune-whip. A sip, not a chug. Worth trying.

Frame #3: Goose Island Pere Jacques.
Carmel, dried fruit, banana, and a pinch of alcohol. Beautiful in the glass, ‘Father’ tastes bigger than a dubbel—more of a strong dark ale.
To my lights, this baby is sweet, fruity and fizz free enough to be dessert.
Truth is, ‘Dad Jack’ is such a Belgium Belgium—that if I’m going to walk this line of country, I’m thinking Rochefort, Westvleteren or St. Bernardus. Worth trying. Right up your alley if you like Fig Newtons.

Frame #4: Goose Island Sofie.
Golden seltzer of love. Sofie puts me in mind of Duvel’s younger sister. A farmhouse that is bustling with activity—sparkling scharf dry citrusy goodness abounds—finishing up with a vanilla cream cookie treat. Wine-barrel aged with orange rind, this beer is great for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Worth trying all day long.

Goose Island Aside: We enjoyed these proofs that GI makes remarkably solid Belgium beers. As the aside, the brewer suggests that all three offerings develop in the bottle over 5 years. So dust off a shelf in your cellar. http://www.gooseisland.com

On A Roll.
Wings. Beef Grinders. Mosquitoes. A roaring fire (to keep ravenous mosquitoes at bay). Lively conversation. Even a dollop of Wes Anderson.

Rolling and controlling. Four-bagger on a soft Thursday evening.
Life is good.

Cheers.
BL

Which Beer Pairs Best With Grocery Shopping?

‘Stella Artois’, Founder’s ‘Red’s RyePA’, Great Lakes ‘Holy Moses’, Two Brothers ‘Resistance IPA’, Three Floyds ‘Robert the Bruce’, Dogfish Head ’60 minute IPA’, Metropolitan ‘Dynamo Copper Lager’? It’s hard to decide.

Beer Back Flash.
One day Hopkaiser calls me. He’s a lucky boy. He just went grocery shopping. Grocery shopping at place that has cup holders on the shopping carts. But cup holders to hold coffee, tea, bottled water?
Beer. BEER! Big, cold, refreshing, tasty, frosty pints of beer. Is this possible? Legal? Just a strange and vivid dream? A government sting?

Actual. Literal. Real.
Whole Foods Market in Sauganash (Cicero and Peterson) boasts the Sauganash Grill. The Saug is smallish island of earthly delights, serving beer, wine and food. 5 taps offer a regularly rotating, remarkably wide selection of brews, while the grill serves up smoked beef and pork flesh, burgers, sausages, sandwiches, and more.
On top of the beers and brisket, the S-Grill features chatty, friendly staff and a big screen TV (LCD) most often hosting the hottest sporting event—so you can root, root, root for the home team over a cold one.

The More Is The Store.
Everything the store offers can be enjoyed at the Sauganash Grill.
Beef sticks. Potato Chips. Shrimp cocktail. Exotic cheese. Corn chips and fresh salsa. Prepared salads and hot entrees, prosciutto, humus, a myriad of olives and pickles, sushi, ice cream. Get the picture? Well there’s more. If the Grill isn’t grilling something that rings your bell, you can walk 8 short steps and grab yourself a dry-aged steak. Or Moroccan lamb burgers, or fresh made Italian sausage, or tuna steaks. The Saug charges a $2 grilling fee to grill it up right.
And while the food is fabulous (and it is), the fact that you can grab any bomber or sixer of suds from the cooler and enjoy sitting while watching the Sox, is un-fraking-believable. There’s no fee for popping the toppen, and they’ll keep it in the cooler.
Heaven.

As a related aside—you can enjoy $3 pints of tap beer on Thursday.

In conclusion: While the Hopkaiser and I sat sipping and considering all the labels that adorned the taps—we reflect upon the fact that not so many years ago, the Suag selection would have qualified it as one of the best beer bars in Chi-town. Or any town. As David Mamet sez, “Things Change.”
So treat yourself to a trip over to the Sauganash Grill. Ironic that Whole Foods would host one of the best and  most affordable venues for enjoying old “How Come You So”.
Address: 6020 N Cicero Ave Chicago, IL • Phone: 773.205.1100

Perspective Is Reality.
I speak as a man to men. Here’s the doe-ray-me.
“Hey Honey? I thought I’d do the grocery shopping from now on.” “No, I’m happy to help, and my bad back feels much better. Really.”
Just saying.

Cheers.
BL

Talking about Beer Makes It Harder To Taste.

As a visual artist, I’ve often wondered at the visual arts dependence on words. Art critics, in an effort to ‘qualify’ the image or object up for consumption, use piles of words to prop up the work’s value. If there is enough obscure, dense and indecipherable language surrounding a piece, buyers are more likely to understand that they couldn’t possibly understand—and cough up the coinage.

Which brings me to two tasty beers—Ommegang BPA and Stone 14^th Anniversary Empirial IPAle—and a description that does them justice.

Care for a Weer or Bine, Sir.
For many years, wine industrialists grew a hedge of words around their bottles. As the language grew less accessible, the shakier the uninitiated consumer became. This highfalutin vin-nacular resulted in regular folks retreating to the comfort of this familiar harbor—“I my not know what is good, but I know what I like”, and grab another box of Burt’s Zinfandel Rosé. Too much talk can intimidate and kill the desire to learn.

With the advent of the craft beer revolution, the world of brewskis has exploded. With unprecedented growth and change—new styles and combinations of taste making their debuts daily—those who brew and them which critic their efforts, are working hard to create and advance a standardized lexicon with which to effectively communicate ‘the what’ of any given beer.
Sadly it seems to me, that the model utilized by official beer taster types, shows signs of having roots planted in viticulture. When some member of the beer ‘cognoscenti’ asks me what I think of a particular brew, I get the nervous Nellie’s.
Is the head eggshell or off-white? Is that lace on the glass or soap scum? Is the nose as plain as my face, the body viscous jelly with black currant leather turnip notes with just a hint of laundry?
Yikes stripes. Look what they’ve done to my song.

A New Take on the Ol’ Beerometer.
Beer, I have always thought, was supposed to be the good stuff for the common folk. Let’s face it, you can’t touch the top rocket in the wine world for a ‘C’ note, but you can have a sixer of the best beer in the world for under a Jackson.
When I hit Beer Advocate for a review of some lovely, I get hit with a flow of cascading adjectives that leave me clueless as to what I’m tasting with my mind. Often it sounds as if I’m reading the ingredients listed on a bag of Asian gummies, or E.E. Cummings.

So what’s the goal here? To demonstrate how sophisticated suds are? To highlight how sensitive our tongues have become? Or to communicate that a particular beer is m,m,m good and worthy of a try (or that it should be used to hydrate the roses).

Hey, here’s a goal: How about if us beer nuts take a breather, and have a little bit more fun when we’re talking about our beer? In accordance with that thought, I’d like to propose a fresh look at new ways to describe the new wave of brews we’ve all been enjoying.

Judging A Beer By its Drinker.
The Hopkaiser (with very modest aid from me) has been working on a new system for classifying craft beers. The goal: helping beer enthusiasts—from timid to adventuresome—decide which unknown, untried beer might work best for them. More on that latter. http://hopkaiser.wordpress.com/

Judging ‘Mother’ by Going With Your Gut.
The BL Beer Evaluation System (TBLBES for short?) is easy to understand.
I will drink a beer.
I will then attempt to describe that beer in my own words. Each beer that is considered successful will find—after its description—this critical phrase: Worth trying.
Read the description. If it sounds yummy, jump into the pool. Simple.

Like—as in “for example”—the two beers I recently ‘evaluated’ at Hopleaf—Ommegang BPA and Stone 14^th Anniversary Empirial IPAle (Right. I actually sucked them down gleefully, filled with the joy of much deliciousness).

Allow me to digress to a Hopleaf sidebar. I love Hopleaf. One possible slogan: “Huh, never heard of ‘dat beer”.  This most recent visit found many heavy-up beers on tap. Big, tasty, complex, high alcohol only comes in half pints or goblets beers. 6 all told—and shockingly, I’d had nary a one. But that has since been rectified.

Back to the ‘beer depiction’ description:
• Ommegang BPA. An inviting, full-bodied, dryer than expected, classic Belgium yeast/citrus front door, well balanced, nicely effervescent, with a soft sweetness that sweeps down and toward a remarkable impact with a triple-hop back door—that keeps you from wanting to leave. Worth trying.

• Stone 14^th Anniversary—Empirial IPAle. A peppery hops attack. Orange/Lemon creamy pie eye inside a hoppy pine tar spirits hurricane—the Malt Atlas bent backwards deftly carrying tons of hop lumber. Worth trying. Wowzers—bitter is everywhere.

A New Set of Beer Goggles.
See? Now doesn’t that make you want to try them both?
O.K. I’ll keep working at it—diligently forcing myself to try, and descibe yet more new beer. In the mean time, take a run at these two interesting, related, yet contrasting versions of the ‘Oil of Gladness’.

Let’s keep on talking over a cold one.
Cheers. BL

P.S. The dialog that is beer is as lively as the beverage itself. Please don’t confuse personal opinion with the law—unless of course it says ‘Light/Lite’ on the can and then you can be sure it’s goat urine.