Friday, February 24, 2012

Winter for a malcontent

I like when it's not winter. I really do. In fact, I tend to prefer it when it's not winter. HOWEVER, what makes not-winter so great, is that sometimes it's winter. Without the unmentionable-numbing coldness of winter, we wouldn't get to enjoy the thawing of the unmentionables in the spring, and the exposing of the unmentionables in the summer.

What am I talking about, you ask?

Great question. Here it is: I'm as happy as the next guy that winter has been lame this year. Fewer car accidents. Lower electricity bills. Unmentionables partially frozen, like Timbits, but not totally frozen, like ice cubes. But I have some issues with this lack of winter.

First is the looming dread -- always there, barely noticeable, but rubbing me all over the head and back just enough to make me slightly uncomfortable -- that the end of days is coming. But that's just me (and perhaps a billion other people).

Most importantly, though, I have all this winter beer in my cellar. Spruce beer! Belgian beer! Delicious and dark and spicy and thick stuff! But, alas, the weather has been all wrong. I've been, instead, craving IPAs lately. The other stuff has seemed too heavy for the light weather. It's a shame, really. And that's why, for me, I could have used a few solid weeks of real winter. I would have liked to go out for a long, freezing cold walk in the snow, come home, and reward myself with a thick and warming beer. Then complained about how cold it is and watched a good hockey game. (Which, by the way, as a habs fan, I haven't seen too many "good" hockey games this year. gerk, another reason this winter sucked...)

But I guess I'll look on the bright side: the beers I didn't drink age well, and will be even better NEXT winter. I never thought I'd be able to resist them that long, but I think I will. Next winter: the beers will be open when the unmentionables are frozen. That, I promise*.

*Unless I drink them first.

Monday, February 6, 2012

The Best Beers... & Garrison Spruce Beer

The best beers do one of two things:

a) They force you to stop, and to be, and to pay attention. Whether it's a session beer to accompany conversations with friends, or a solitary beer after a long day at work, the beer enhances the experience, and helps you to enjoy the moment even more.

or

b) They take you away from where you are, in either time or space. Their tastes can take you back in time, such as anytime I taste a beer even remotely similar to the O'Keefe beer my dad used to drink, or when a smooth, pale lager transports you in mind to a cottage waterfront somewhere, even when you're sitting in your own backyard.

When either of these two things happen, the beer has gone beyond a liquid in a glass, and has become an experience. And that's what's truly special, for me, about beer. It's rare, but it's usually a sign that someone has made a fantastic beer. And it's why I constantly push myself to try new beers.

Mercifully, the lcbo recently launched their feature on Garrison Brewery (from Halifax), which featured five new beers. The long bare shelves are stocked again! There is light at the end of the long, winter tunnel! Of the five, two were standouts for me: The Grand Baltic Porter and the Spruce Beer.

I'll start off by saying that, if you see either of these, buy them. Then drink them.

Anyhoo, long story short (too late for that), the Spruce Beer did a b) all over my brain-mouth. As I was drinking, I was taken away to a smoky campfire, in the winter, near a sugar shack. I could just about see it. There were horses nearby (which I couldn't taste). I was in the middle of the winter that we've been spared (so far) this year. That's what it's all about, right?

Anyway, my point, is that there IS a gem at the lcbo during this slow slow winter season, and it's the Garrison's Spruce Beer. Buy it, drink it. And store some, apparently it ages well. And if we ever DO have a winter again, it may a) all over your brain-tongue too.