The Session #69 – The Perfect Beer World

And now for this month’s Session.

This month it is from Jorge at Brew Beer And Drink It.  I’ll say it now – rock on, Jorge.  There are two reasons for this:  Uno) Jorge lives in Arizona (right on, Jorge); Dos) Jorge has a straightforward, western, to the point, no beating-around-the-bush, call a spade a spade, etc., name for his blog (right on, Jorge); Tres) – oh, right, I said two reasons, yes, my bad.

Anyway, Jorge presented this theme:

 … what is something you would like to see change… something that will take us closer to the Perfect Beer World?

It’s so simple that it pains me to make the obvious statement.  The Beer World shall indeed be perfect whence-forth it has accepted me as its rightful King.

Until then, I suppose there could be some other changes.  I shall try to conceive of them.  Well, at least think of them.  Ah, wait, here they are, approaching me as vassals should, with their knees bent, beating themselves upon the head, desiring to kiss my awesome Ring of Power. ( isn’t it awesome, it opens beer bottles, you see.)  They quietly and respectfully tell me the things that the World of Beer must know and alter so that it may live on to times indefinite …

American craft brewers, please, stop with your incessant belief that hops is the greatest beer ingredient since the Egyptians started fermenting whatever they fermented and called it beer!  I mean, really!  Let me illustrate with some imaginary dialogue between a producer of fine beer (Brewer) and a consumer of this fine beer (Drinker).

“Behold,” says Brewer and he holds forth his newest libation, a glistening copper nectar. 

“Oh, lovely, what is it?” says Drinker, appreciator of all that is sacred and beery.  “What makes it utterly unbelievable and greater than all other beers?”

“I put hops in it,” says Brewer. 

A record scratching sound imposes itself into the conversation.  “What the …” says Drinker.  “You mean like Joe across the street?”

Brewer smiles a smile of smugness.  “Nay, Little Joe put in his amber beer only a couple of ounces of hops.  I, I have put seven hundred and eighty five ounces of hops in my three gallon pilot brew.  I shall make hop farmers wealthy land barons!”

Drinker rolls his eyes.  “Whatever, Bill put 784 ounces in his.”

Stop it.

There can be a separation of alcohol worlds.  It’s okay.  What do I mean by this?

Stop being such snobs!  Brewers and beer judges are starting to sound like uppity wine people, blabbing on about the age of their barrels and the vanilla bouquet of [insert French sounding words here] and going all geeky about how the cuvee de amber of what’s-his-name just sublimely complements the current of currants in a grease braised country fried steak.  Whatever.

Granted, the tastes and flavors of beer are sophisticated and generous, as much or more so than wine.  But that does not mean beer people should try to be, well, see above.  Come on.  Beer is the ultimate social drink.  Sharing a beer with someone puts each drinker on the same playing field – just another human enjoying humanity’s greatest beverage with another human.  Open, honesty, happy – that’s beer.  So act that way!

Wouldn’t be great if beer was free?


A Glass of Friday – Tequila Sour by Bottled Roger

Here’s how I made it.

  • 1 empty glass (rocks)
  • Sauza tequila gold (or whatever your favorite is [this would be better with an anejo Don Julio])
  • Almond amaretto
  • Margarita mix (of your choice, or sour mix)

Pour an arbitrary amount of tequila into the empty glass.  My own arbitrary amount wound up being about a finger and a half.  Then add a miniscule amount of amaretto.  About a cap full or less.  Top off with margarita or sour mix.  My drink ended at two and a half fingers.  Add a couple of ice cubes if you like.

In Appearance …
It’s green.  A weak lime green.  The tequila was light colored anyway, golden bronze; the amaretto is a dark, tea brown but I don’t think there was enough included to affect the color.  Therefore, the green of the margarita mix I used dominated the color scheme.  How greedy.

But The Taste …
What a silky body this drink possesses.  A citrusy, lemony, and yet grapey, flavor controls the glass.  It’s bright, it’s summer, it’s a kiss from the girl you love.  The sugary explosion of the margarita mix dances with the oily seduction of the amaretto and these two take the edges off the tequila.   There’s still an edginess there, but it’s refined by the rest of the mix.

That Smell …
In the traditional man’s workshop, there is a conflation of solvents and paints and other chemicals.  Put that workshop out here in the Mohave desert and the scent of weeds mingles with those chemicals.  That’s how this smells.  Not that pleasant, really, now that I see it written out.  Yet, beneath all that still lingers your girlfriend’s perfume, reminding you of the sweetness to which you’re committed.

Join Me For A Plate Of …
Chicken alfredo.

The Conclusion Of The Matter Is …
Tequila sours, amaretto sours, whiskey sours, they are all beautiful!