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I'm the kind of beer drinker who looks forward with more anticipation to fall and winter beer season than I do summer ales. I like big, opaque, high-alcohol beers that go great with holiday sweaters and large plates of hors d'oeuvres.
It's probably fair to say that no child has ever answered the what-do-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up question with, “Either a fireman, the president or a bartender.” And fair is fair, most children aren't acquainted with the bartender – nor should they be. Barmen are typically swarthy with acid tongues that can reel off obscenities to a beat. Bartenders are jaded, and our youth, with their chubby cheeks and open minds, are best served if they steer clear of such a population.
But more than a few of America's children will find themselves one day behind a bar, almost all of them without an ounce of any sort of official credentials. It really is one of the last professions learned entirely as an apprentice. Most bartending schools are a joke. They're a scheme to get desperate people to hand over their hard-earned cash just to memorize flashcard recipes of cocktails that no one's ordered in 20 years. Even so, most of their graduates can't tell you the difference between vodka and gin.
Four nights drinking in San Francisco, seventeen bartenders – only one of them with two x chromosomes. Perhaps part of it is that I went to a lot of hi-falutin cocktail lounges where they have unheard of spirits and bitters infused with bug parts. Almost every one of these bars had its version of the quintessential San Fran barman. Think Alferd Packer with cuff garters, tattoos, and skinny jeans – if Packard could have given up man-meat for some absinthe-infested concoction in glass beakers.
The latest addition to Boneyard's growing family of beers – a 14-percent imperial stout, dubbed Suge Knite, and pronounced just like the infamous gangsta rap producer – is the Evander Holyfield of ales: a serious heavyweight. Inspired by another oversize stout, the Dark Lord, from Indiana's 3 Floyds brewery, with whom Boneyard Brewmaster Tony Lawrence previously collaborated on Boneyard's Cascadian ale, Armored Fist.
A departure from the brew news and reviews this week to offer a congratulations to Silver Moon founder Tyler Reichert who along with his wife, Renee, celebrated the birth of their first child this past week. Reichert, who started Silver Moon as a home brew shop and tasting room off Division Street a decade ago, is the father of a bouncing baby girl, who as of our press deadline was still without a formal.
There will no doubt be a disagreement this week about what the better man drinks, Jameson or Bushmills. It's a timeless argument that merits some attention in honor of St. Patrick's Day. To wit, it is rare that a Jameson drinker will toss back a Bushmills and I have never seen a Bushmills connoisseur toast with a Jameson. Grey Goose drinkers will drink Ketel One, and Crown Royal drinkers will drink Pendleton, but the Irish whiskey drinker always stays true to his brand.
It's official. Deschutes Brewery is ready to launch its first major expansion in more than a decade, adding two new buildings and five fermentation tanks that will boost Bend's flagship brewery by 105,000 barrels per year.
MicroCosmos didn't make it down to WinterFest this year due to prior contractual obligations, but we heard tell of a magical traveling beer bar on wheels aka the Bend Cycle Pub, which made its 2011 debut during recent festivities. If you haven't yet seen or sampled the Cycle Pub, it's the 16-seat, people-powered bar/tour bus.
As the all-knowing tiny voice spouts out, “Side effects may include irritable bowel syndrome, thyroid disorders, and severe headaches,” you cannot help but ask yourself, “What kind of junk are the pharmaceutical companies trying to jam down my throat this week?” The sad thing is, we've fallen for it before, and we actually feel good about it.
Those who have found themselves buying three “beef” chalupas after a rough night always have a theory as to how their liver deceived them.
The schoolyard chant, “Beer before liquor, never sicker; liquor before beer, never fear” might be best left in the Kappa Kappa Delta house. If you've been drinking vodka all night, is it suicidal to have a Scotch nightcap? Is your liver really so devious that it considers a Long Island iced tea a complete insult and as such will get you back the next day?
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