We could all use a Warmer Winter Winter Warmer today

It's no secret to a lot of my friends that I don't really like the cold these days. For years I thought I did. My favorite quote was, "I can always put more clothes on, but you don't really want to see me take more off."

Well, I'm here to tell you that those days are over. I'm cold. Damned cold. As I sit here in my home office I'm wearing a sweatshirt, long pants, socks, shearling slippers and the space heater is roaring.



When I have to leave the house in this crap this is my battle gear.

 

After 2.5 weeks in Key West at the beginning of the year for the Key West Literary Seminar I thought I had avoided the Polar Vortex. Yeah. No. That shit just decided it wanted to swing right on back down and smack me in my bald head. So much for my wishful thinking. I've been getting a good lesson in why I want to retreat south to Florida with all the snow birds, Yankee or not.



When the scene is like this, you find yourself wanting a little bit more than most beers can provide.

 

I stuck my head down in the cooler - It's warmer in there than it is outside, believe me. I should be sticking stuff I want to be really cold out on the back patio tonight. - I knew exactly what I was looking for. Buried within its bowels was a lovely bottle I had set aside for just such occasions.

Cigar City in Tampa has been a favorite of mine for several years. They really can do very little wrong - though their Cucumber Saison didn't exactly make me rush out to buy more, but then again I'm not much of a saison fan anyway - and what they do right they tend to do *really* right. Their Marshal Zhukov Russian Imperial Stout is amazing, and their Maduro Brown is awesome. It's actually even better when it gets up to room temp, which I found very exciting since I was drinking it last on the Schooner Hindu at sunset and I had no koozie with which to keep my beer chilled. That last swallow before we headed back to port was very, very good.

Tonight's bottle just so happened to be one I've had stashed back for more than a year. From what I can tell they've been making Warmer Winter Winter Warmer since 2009, though they might have started in 2008. I'm not really clear, but I do know that this beer is exactly what I needed on this night.




As you can see, this version is the 2012/2013, released in late 2012. At 11% ABV it's no beer for lightweights, but you'd never know it by tasting it.

I poured a big ol' tulip full of this coppery, fairly thick libation and lifted it up to my olfactory receptor. The first thing I got was a nose full of thick, creamy head (Yeah. Make jokes about my wording.) and then I smelled dark fruit, brown sugar, a touch of hops and raisins. Frankly it smelled sweet. Like candy sweet, not like cool sweet, though this kind of sweet is pretty cool as far as I'm concerned. There was absolutely no booze burn. It just didn't smell boozy. It actually smelled a bit tame.

I sloshed a little into my mouth and swirled it around. Tasted like caramels mixed with raisins. The finish was a bit bitter on the back of the tongue, but not cloyingly so. Just enough to let you know that they used 6 different hops in the crafting of this fine brew.

As the bottle warmed up the sweetness became very prominent. Like eating biscuits with plum jelly, it had a buttery, bready, fruity taste to it. I don't know that I'd ever want to drink a whole bottle of this by myself again unless I have a way to keep it cold while drinking it. I could have put it back in the cooler, but that's on the other side of the basement and my office is a lot warmer with the space heater than the tiki bar is.

Overall impression? I like it. I'd better. I still have three more bottles of this iteration in the cellar. I don't even remember buying that much of it, but I have it anyway. Next time I drink it I'll keep it cold during the emptying of the bottle. If I can't have a warmer winter, I guess this winter warmer will suffice for now.

Oh, and just so this post doesn't feel all that cold, here are some pictures from my trip to Key West.

Curry and Coconut and Cumin. Oh My!

Over the past few years I've enjoyed most of what Ballast Point has put out. Their rums are amazing, and the vast majority of their beers are excellent.

I don't even remember where I picked up this bottle of Indra Kunindra. I think it was in North Carolina at Triangle Wine Company, a great couple of stores in the Raleigh area. All I know is that I never really paid attention to what all was in the beer. I just knew that a limited release Ballast Point had a very good chance of being good stuff. I wasn't disappointed.

Originally this beer was produced for the 46th anniversary of Holiday Wine Cellar, my favorite liquor store in Escondido, CA. Most know Escondido because of Stone Brewing, but I would argue that Holiday Wine Cellar should be a destination too. When I visited they offered me a sample of Lemon Hart 151 after I explained that I hadn't tried the new version after Lemon Hart pulled out of the United States market and then returned. The building itself fascinated me, with its funky mid century architecture, and when I walked inside I was blown away at how much awesome they packed into one small building. I could move into the wine cellar and be a very happy boy.

But enough about liquor stores. I'm here to talk about this beer.

I'm in the middle of a marathon rewrite session, trying to get my first and second book rewritten so I can begin submitting to publishers. By the end of today I needed a beer. This was the one I dragged out of the refrigerator.

I opened the bottle, still not having completely read the label, and poured it into my Great Divide snifter. As I poured I noted that it looked more like a porter. Not as thick or dark as a stout, it had little to no head and seemed quite watery. I was prepared to be underwhelmed.

Boy was I wrong. Lifting it up to my olfactory appendage I got huge notes of coconut. They don't even tout this beer as a coconut beer, like Stone does with their not-so-great R&R Coconut IPA. The text on the bottle that describes the ingredients is tiny. Crazy tiny for these old eyes. I still hadn't read it.

Then I took a big ol' swig and my tongue blew up. What the hell had just happened? My mouth was confused. I was transported straight to a place I'd never been. I assumed it was India, and I might have been right given that they called this an India-Style Export Stout. It might have just been Sitar (the best Indian food in Knoxville) but it didn't matter to me. Insanity is all I can say about this beer. I grabbed the bottle and read the fine print and immediately recognized the flavors I was getting. There was so much going on it was hard to single them out, but with the help of the list, I was able to do so.

Coconut. Cumin. A huge dollop of curry and a serious dose of cayenne pepper. Though not listed, I also got a bit of chocolate, but that's not so unusual in darker beers.

It was like I'd filled my mouth with vegetable pakora and tandoori chicken, minus the vegetables and chicken. My mouth was in ecstasy and my throat was on fire. I love Indian food, and I loved this beer.

This, seriously and without extraneous hyperbole, had to be the most challenging beer I've ever poured in my mouth. As it warmed the flavors melded even more. I finally began to smell the Kaffir lime, but only slightly. The heat slowly disappeared, but the curry flavor never went away.

I'd be very interested to see what this beer would be like if they went to an Imperial style. As it is right now, it's an export stout. I've never been all that fond of export style stout, as it's usually not very complex, but I must say that if all export stouts were like this I'd be drinking them on a regular basis. An Imperial would be terrifyingly exciting.

Currently a couple of stores in North Carolina have this beer in stock, so I'm going to have to see what I can do to get more. I could drink this with a big ol' helping of naan bread and just be one happy guy all evening. A liquid visit to one of my favorite local restaurants? I'm in.

Black, like his noir soul

The Traveler knew that there was a need for such a libation. Speakeasy's Payback Smoked Porter. Black, burnt and bitter, just like the souls of the women he had scorned so many times in his youth. It had to be. He wasn't quite sure why he knew, but he did. Such a drink was supposed to happen. It was written in the stars, so with resignation he withdrew the bottle from the depths of the refrigerator and set it down on his desk. It stared back at him, glance askance, menace in its soul. Payback time.

Approaching the vessel with trepidation, he ripped off the cap, wincing in fear of what the repercussions might be for his actions. The sound of gas escaping from the bottle mirrored his gasp of shock.

When he poured the dark, angry liquid into a glass he was stunned at the thick, luscious, creamy head that billowed from the depths. Craggy, with big bubbles and even bigger promise, it teased him as it beckoned. "Drink me," it moaned. "Drink me and all your troubles will be erased."

As he lifted the snifter to his trembling, dry, cracked lips, his nose was assaulted by the acrid scent of burnt coffee and the warm, welcoming smell of the bitter chocolates his long lost love had been so fond of. It reminded him of the inevitably burnt wheat toast that she would serve him when she wanted to break from tradition and do breakfast in bed the morning after.

The cool, dark liquid poured over his tongue in a wave of thick, dark flavor, shocking his senses back from reverie. Coffee again. This time with maybe a touch of cream. The campfires of his youth, back when Boy Scouts was about learning to be men instead of a popularity contest.  Burnt malts and sugar. Things that remind one of youth as well as later years. This kind of beer might scare off new members of the beer cult. Not something to be trifled with, it challenged his every preconception of what a smoked porter should be.

As he drained the glass of its last dregs he reminisced on what he had just experienced and lamented the passing of such a wonderful liquid. Had he to do it all over again, he might perhaps take a little more time to get to know it on a whole other level. Perhaps spend a few more minutes plumbing the depths of everything it had to offer. But tonight it was not to be. First impressions are the most important in this sad, angry world we live in, and this first impression was one that would stick with him for a long, long time.

Old Old Guardian

I never have denied that I'm a big fan of Stone Brewing's work. Over the past few years I've moved away from the absolute fanaticism I had for them, but that doesn't change the fact that I typically love what they're doing. Heck, you can take a look at my cellar (a work in progress. I still have a lot of databasing to do) to see that I'm definitely an acolyte.

My first trip to San Diego was in 2011, as I've mentioned before. In fact, it was my first trip to California at all. As soon as I was off of the plane and in my rental car I immediately set the GPS for Stone in Escondido, and wasn't disappointed by the trip. The Stone Brewing gardens are gorgeous and their the taproom/bistro is beautiful and busy. It was the perfect place to partake in my first taste of their 15th Anniversary Black IPA, not to mention a healthy pour of Bashah, one of my all-time favorite beers.

I have several Stone brews that have been sitting in the cellar for a while. Every once in a while I'll break one out and see how it's done as it ages.

The last time I opened an Old Guardian, it was a 2006 release that I brought out for an advance showing of Beer Hunter: The Movie that I hosted during Knoxville Craft Beer Week. To say I was disappointed was an understatement. It wasn't what I expected. It tasted like wood, was flat and was overall just not all that good. It had definitely gone beyond its prime.

So it was with trepidation that I grabbed the 2009 bottle I've had sitting in the back corner of the cooler since the 2012 Super Bowl. I had planned on doing somewhat of an incomplete vertical, but that never came of fruition, so I figured I'd try it .

As much as I was disappointed with the 2006, I was just as pleased with the 2009. The bottle says it was a "Limited Early 2009 Release." I don't remember how many bottles I bought. I know I have one bottle left after this one, and I'm glad I do.

I could see a fair amount of sediment in the bottom of the bottle, so was very careful not to disturb it as I took pictures and poured a glass. It poured a beautiful golden/ruby color, with a nice tan head that was about a finger's width. That head dissipated quickly but began leaving very nice lacing behind.

Sticking my nose down in the glass, I could smell malt, malt and more malt with a bit of booze, leather and hops backing it up. I was surprised to find any hop presence left 4 years after the bottle was pulled from the line, but it was definitely still there.

I detected the usual barleywine characteristics. Caramel. Brown sugar. Toffee. You know the routine.

As it sat in the glass I could see the bubbles rising very slowly, almost as if they were in a syrup instead of a beer. Lifting those bubbles (and their container, of course) up to my pie hole, I took a big ol' swig and swished it around in my mouth. As it rolled over the tongue there were two main sensations: Hops! It still had hop flavor! And booze. The warmth of the booziness of this glass of nectar could be felt all the way down my esophagus. Even 5 minutes after taking a healthy pull on the glass I could still feel that booze warmth.

At 11.3% ABV, the boozy nature didn't surprise me a lot, but most barleywines I've had tend to tone down quite a bit as they age, but I'm not sure this one did. It's 4 years old and still packs a wallop.

Letting my tongue rest, other flavors started poking their heads through the bitter booze. Fruit. Caramel. I still felt that resiny overtone throughout, but at least something else was trying to move up there to compete. I was left with a mildly laced glass and a sweet/bitter finale.

Mrs. Traveler's opinion: "It smelled good. It smelled very promising. It was just a little more sour than I expected. I could definitely drink more of it though. It's definitely better as it warms up."

That's a bunch of words by her, so I guess ultimately she liked it.

Overall it's a good bottle. I'm glad I have another one stashed, and will probably open it next year about this time to compare notes. I still have a 2006 as well, but I must admit I'm afraid to open it.

Cruising through the Bluegrass State

This weekend was our first (and perhaps last, but that's a later blog) time attending Fandom Fest in Kentucky, and when driving to Louisville I can't resist making stops along the way. This adventure was no different, but instead of distilleries we visited mostly breweries.

We left out of Knoxville on a Thursday after dropping our girls off at the vet's office for puppy camp. Lexington lies 2.5 hours north and is home to another of my many favored breweries, West Sixth Brewing, as well as one of my favorite liquor stores, Liquor Barn.

Mrs. Traveler: It comes in pints? Me: Yep. Diet Coke is now available in a tallboy. It's a sign of the apocalypse, I'm sure.

Over the past few years I've finally started relinquishing control of the wheel. I've grown to enjoy the scenery from the passenger seat instead of watching the world fly by while having to keep my eye on the road.

I first became aware of West Sixth Brewing from Lexington last year when I was in Louisville visiting a friend. I'm a big fan of their IPA, so I begged and cajoled Mrs. Traveler to take me there on our way.

The new West Sixth logo.

West Sixth is located in an old Rainbo Bread slicing and cooling building nicknamed The Bread Box. It's home to not only West Sixth, but also a bicycle coop, a local printing press and a flat-track roller derby team, as well as other development.

Lots o' space

Cool sculpture on the side of the Bread Box. Death Star motif FTW.

Their tap room is an extremely comfortable setup. It really is one of the nicest tap rooms I've seen in a long time. With a bar that seats about 15 people, several tables with very cool rocking chairs and a few couches, there's plenty of room for people inside. Outside there are tables, and there's even an area with picnic tables in an adjacent room that has a great view of the brewhouse. This last room, judging by pictures on the wall, has even been used for yoga classes and other events, so it's a great example of a multi-use space.

Pretty menu board

Mrs. Traveler being a goof. Dig the growler lampshades.

The couch area, with a cooler and TShirt/glassware/etc. sales area.

Brewhouse

The room I dubbed The Yoga Room

Thursday was Firkin Thursday, so I couldn't resist grabbing a glass of their Cocoa Porter. I'll apologize ahead of time for not having the copious notes that I usually take, but I was on a road trip and the last thing I wanted to do was grab a pencil or pen and start acting like a beer douche.

The firkin wasn't cold, so I got a nice room temperature pour. There was a very light, medium tan head and a big malt nose with a slight spiciness to it. Rolling it across my tongue there was a really nice cacao bitterness. Not as sweet as most cocoa porters, and I was happy with that. The carbonation was very fine and gave a tremendously satisfying mouthfeel. The hop backing lingered quite pleasantly.

Mrs. Traveler's notes: Good. Mild.

She's verbose like that.

Next up was their Smithtown Brown. Mrs. Traveler took the first sip.

"I like that. It has a tingy zing to it. A ting is a mild zing. Doesn't taste mass produced."

For me, I detected a mild, malty nose with a bit of brown sugar. The taste was of very light hops, malt and a bitterness at the back of the tongue. Just like the Cocoa Porter, this brown was not as sweet as many of the same style, which definitely moved it up the list on my chart.

After we left Lexington I programmed the ever-faithful TomTom to take us to Against the Grain Brewing, We made the drive in great time and pulled off of the exit to make our way to Slugger Field.

"Wait! Wait!" I yelled, scaring the living crap out of Mrs. Traveler.

"What?" she blurted, slamming on the brakes.

"There's Apocalypse Brew Works! Right there! Turn in!"

We pulled into the little bitty space, The Fallout Shelter, that houses Apocalypse. I'd heard good things about them, and had their RIP Rye IPA back in December, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

We got out of the van and wandered into the tiny, tiny, tiny little hole in the wall. One of the owners, Paul, was moving some kegs around and I smelled beer brewing.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"We were on our way to Against The Grain and saw you here."

"We're actually just stocking and brewing today. We're not open."

"Your website said you were," I said, pulling out my phone.

"Oh no. It does?" he asked, looking at my phone. "Oh. Wow. I'm glad that's not our website. I was about to freak out. That's Apocalypse out west."

"Aw man. I'm sorry," I said.

"No biggie. Where'd y'all come from?" he asked.

"Knoxville. We're headed to Fandom Fest."

"Well, if you don't mind us working around you I can serve you a beer."

"I don't mind at all. I like the smell of a brewery and I'm good about picking up my feet when I need to get out of the way."

He poured me a glass of their Smokin' Pyres, a smoked porter. Pitch black in the glass, it had a nice tan head. Heavy smoke and malt aromas wafted from the glass.

Taking a tug from the glass I was hit by a nicely balanced hop bitterness and sweet malt.

Mrs. Traveler, seeing my happy look, grabbed the glass from my greedy little mitts.

"Ohhh... That's good. More complex than the last couple. I like the bitterness."

While we were drinking the Brewmaster, Leah, came in with her two sweet dogs. It was nice to get a little puppy therapy and meet the other part of the brewery. We talked for a while about beer as I admired their unique brewing setup, then left them to their devices so as to not get in their way anymore.

Interesting brewing rig

Louisville can be a bit confusing if you don't have a GPS. It's easy to get turned around, and there always seems to be construction going on. After a couple of perplexing moments we managed to wend our way to Against The Grain (ATG).

ATG is attached to Slugger Field, a beautiful AAA baseball park that I became aware of through Zane Lamprey's Drinking Made Easy: Louisville episode. On a trip to visit JD last year he told me about the brewery and I had to check it out. This time I had to make sure Mrs. Traveler got to check it out too. I love the place. It's a gorgeous joint and you rarely get the same beer twice, since they don't usually repeat their recipes at ATG.

This picture doesn't do this beautiful field justice

Hint: If the Bats are not playing that day and there are no other events at the field, you can park in the field parking lot for free. JD and I didn't know this last time and wound up paying for a meter. This time we parked where we should.

Inside Slugger Field

Inside entrance to ATG

Neat drawing about how the brewhouse works

Three-story brewhouse

I ordered vegan wings and a flight of their beers, as well as a bowl of their vegetarian chili. I don't remember what Mrs. Traveler had. The vegan wings, which were made of seitan, were pretty good. I loved the texture, but they were far too spicy for me in general. The vegetarian chili was just too damned hot for normal human beings. I like Thai hot food and this was a whole other level of insanity.

This is how ATG denotes each of their brews. The chalkboard is where you find out each beer that goes with these names.

The chalkboard

Flight o' fabulousness

Satan's seitan. I didn't get a picture of the puddle of lava they called chili.

I hate to admit it, but the seven beers I had weren't even reviewed other than my Untappd notes, since I couldn't really taste as much as I would have liked. Top that off with the fact that my nose was running like somebody had turned on a spigot, so I couldn't smell most of the aromas of what has proved to be great beers before.

I've yet to figure out why people think that Vegetarian = Needs To Be Spicy Enough To Remove Rust From The Bumper Of A '47 Buick. It's a common problem and drives me nuts. They're not the only ones that I've experienced. I probably got an anomaly at ATG, because everything else I've eaten there is amazing.

The list is as follows:

Ionic Blonde. I couldn't taste this one. Very mild and just couldn't cut through the inferno in my face.

Citra Ass Down. All I could taste was hops and brimstone.


Dork Lard. A big ol' Barleywine. My notes consist of "Full bodied. Cuts the vegan chili heat quite well." Can you tell my tongue felt like I'd been licking Satan's sphincter?

Boob's Old 3600. I didn't make any notes on this one at all in Untappd, but I gave it 4 caps, so it must have been pretty good to my swollen tongue.

Sicherheit Wort. I recall liking this one pretty well too. The smokiness wasn't there for me, but that's probably because my whole head felt like it was smoking.

Oats and Hose. The lactose in this actually started cooling my tongue off. I saved it for right before the An Ale Stimulation when I realized it would probably help my cauterized taste buds.

An Ale Stimulation. Say that one fast. This was the last beer I had. By then I could actually taste it since the heat had started to subside after pushed the chili aside. It was an awesome Imperial Rye Stout. I still don't have any major tasting notes, but I liked the way the rye complimented the chocolate notes of the malt. It was also 11% ABV, so was quite the finisher.

Mrs. Traveler and An Ale Stimulation

After boxing up what was left of my beans, tomatoes and napalm we made a beeline for The Galt House.

The Galt House is a huge hotel that sits right across I-65 from the Ohio River. It consists of rooms, suites and apartments. We were lucky enough to score a cheap suite, so we were able to stretch out a while before JD got there.

Once JD arrived it was time to try and find something to drink again, as my buzz was starting to go away. What better place to go than Bluegrass Brewing Company? We wandered out onto the street, turned left and walked the block to BBC.

A lot of people knock BBC, but I actually really like a lot of what they do. Some of it is pretty middle-of-the-road, but a lot of it is pretty damned tasty. In fact, my notes on the Homewrecker Double IPA I had consisted of, "Damn that's tasty." Nothing like being succinct in your evaluations.

Half a glass of IPA left

I washed the bitterness down with a Raspberry Mead, a nice cap to my evening's beer experience. I didn't take any notes, but that's because I was enjoying the mead too much. I remember it being not-too-sweet. Sweetness, to me, is the problem with a lot of meads, and this one wasn't like that.

We closed our tab, but I wasn't done yet. It was time to stumble on over to Jockey Silks Tavern, one of my all-time favorite bourbon bars. With leather seats, a sunken bar (so you don't have to sit on a stool), a well-stocked jukebox and dark wood surroundings, it feels like a bourbon bar should.

Jockey Silks has about 150 bourbons in stock at any one time, so you're likely to find something that makes you happy. For me it's bourbon flights. We bellied up to the bar and I ordered 5 different whiskeys I hadn't had before.

WL Weller Special Reserve was delicious. I didn't do any fancy notes, since I forgot my notebook and my phone was about to die, so forgive me for these being a bit boring.

Old Granddad 114 - Powerful

Old Bardstown 90 Proof - Sweet. Mellow.

Big Ass Bourbon - That's damn good

Bulleit Rye - Mmmmm...

As you can see I was past the point of effusiveness, but was having a good time nevertheless.

We wrapped up the night by sitting in the hotel's Conservatory having water and a salad and watching the stars walk by who were in town for the convention. We were even seated a few seats over from Joey Lauren Adams (Chasing Amy) and Lew Temple(The Walking Dead), which made me happy, since I've liked Joey ever since seeing her in Dazed and Confused.

The first day of Con was unfortunately over, but it had been an epic trip for me so far. The rest of the week wouldn't prove be as eventful alcoholically, but it was eventful in other ways. I'll post pictures and a description of Friday, Saturday and Sunday shortly.

Not distributing to Washington? Say it ain't so!

In January, Russian River sent out a letter to their customers in Washington letting them know that they would be pulling out of the state. There were people who were angry and there were people who understood.

It reminds me quite a bit of the kerfuffle that happened when Dogfish Head pulled out of four states. I'll admit, I was pissed at the time. I swore I'd never buy another Dogfish Head beer, but I caved. Their beers are just too damned good for me to avoid.

We in Tennessee are about to get Dogfish Head beers again. They've recently completed an upgrade to their capacity, and they're going to be returning to the four states they left. We still can't get Russian River though, and now I've lost my Washington connection too. (For those who don't know, my entire immediate family lives in the Seattle area)

Have no fear though. My brother-in-law travels to Portland semi-regularly, and they're still going to be getting Russian River. I just have to hit him up to grab a few Plinys for me every once in a while. (You hear, me Oogie? I'm talking about you!)

So, as I mourned the loss of my connection while I was databasing my cellar today (Not even close to finished yet. 1 shelf done. 7 to go, plus two fridges) I decided to dig into the Russian River stash. Taunting me in a dark corner of the closet was a Damnation. My friend Chris, also known as Tiki 65, (Who is an incredible tiki artist. Do yourself a favor.) picked it up for me when he was at Tiki Oasis 12 last August and I promptly stuffed into a dark, cool corner of the hoard.

Bottled on 8/7/12, this one has had about a year to mature, and in its maturation I'm not sure it did as well. I had previously rated this beer as a 5, but I'm rating this one as a 4. It could be that my palate has matured (unlike me) or it could be that I used to give a lot of stuff a 5 and have changed my grading since I returned to Untappd. I don't know. This beer wasn't disappointing, but it wasn't a 5.

I love the ritual of cork and cage, so long as I can get the damned cork out. Russian River corks have always been easy. I untwisted the cage from the cork, leaned a little on the edge of the cork and *pop*, it opened without drama.

The artwork on corks fascinates me. I have hundreds of wine and beer corks, and as a general rule every vineyard or brewer does different artwork. Russian River's is no different. I love the suggestion to not use a shaker glass but instead pour it into a tulip.

I took their advice and snagged a tulip from the overhead glass storage.

As I poured the contents of the bottle into my Sweetwater 15th Anniversary glass I was rewarded with a golden, semi-cloudy liquid topped by big bubbles forming a 1" head which hung around forever, like groupies by the tour bus after a Kiss concert. It took forever to dissipate.

As the head settled down the aromas of the beer changed. Early on I got hops, pears and Belgian funk, but as the head finally decided to call it a day I began getting more the aromas of bread baking and rock candy, with perhaps a hint of bananas, though part of that may just be that I was hungry.

I tipped the glass up and took a tentative sip, swirling it around in my mouth like I was some kind of wine/beer expert. I'm not, but I like to play one on TV.

The taste was decidedly mild and the mouthfeel was crisp. Citrusy bitterness with a bit of peppery spice and grass. As it lingered on the tongue it became earthy and piney. That faded a few minutes later and left me with a mild sweetness on the tongue. Bubbles? We have plenty of them. Nice and full carbonation without being overpowering.

Overall, all the flavors played nicely with each other, but as it warmed up it just became boring. I hesitate to say it, but the warmer it got the more it tasted like a basic mass-produced lager.

I got so into the glass that I almost forgot to give Mrs. Traveler a taste. She got the last bit that was in the glass. Enough for about three or four tastes, which unfortunately was pretty warm. Her words? "Eh. Not something I'd seek out. It's not bad, but it's not good. Maybe my tastebuds are dying."

I wish she could have tried it colder. Maybe I can get another bottle or three at a later date. It's not going to happen for a while, though, since my Washington clan can't get it for me anymore. I guess I'm just going to have to keep hassling Oogie to hit the bottle shop.

A Road Trip and a Porter

Those of you who know me outside of the socioblogofaceosphere know I'm very fond of Asheville. More specifically, I'm very fond of downtown Asheville. It's a glorious place for those of us who love beer. Top it off with great food, one of the greatest independent bookstores I've ever visited and a dearth of bitchy people and it becomes a happy place for me.

Mrs. Traveler and I considered moving to Asheville when we left that failed experiment known as Florida, but we chose to move back to familiar stomping grounds. The great thing about that is that Asheville is still only 2 hours away, give or take a few minutes depending on tourist traffic.

I needed to pick up a box of beer from Bruisin' Ales, so Ratchet, Animal and I piled into the trusty Boozemobile and motored out. Traffic was heavier than I'm used to (I tend to go on weekdays and get to Asheville fairly early so that I can go to Malaprops - the bookstore I mentioned - first), but we still managed to get there just before Bruisin' opened.

While we were all surfing our phones a couple from Louisville, KY, showed up to wait for opening time too.

"We just need another couple of people and then everybody will think there's some kind of rare bottle release going on," Ratchet mused.

We picked up a few beers, loaded up the Boozemobile and set out in search of Appalachian Vintner. I'd never been and Ratchet swore by their selection and taps. I've still not been there. Well, technically I've *been* there, but I've still not perused their shelves. They're closed on Sundays.

By now Animal and I were a mite peckish, so the three of us headed to Wicked Weed Brewing, one of my favorite stops in Asheville. The food is always awesome and the beer is always amazing.

I was a smidge nonplussed, as it turned out there was very little vegetarian fare available, but the cheese platter sounded good. It was good. It was very good. Animal said his bison burger was good too. 

"It's what I always get when I'm here, and it's always perfect," he said between bites.

I ponied up for a snifter of their Black Angel Cherry Sour. Y'all know me and sours. How could I resist?

Dark colored with the taste of chocolate, plums, sour cherries and oak, this beer was damned good. I regret that I hadn't had it sooner, but one of the downfalls of getting to Asheville early is that most of the tasting rooms aren't open. Wicked Weed's upstairs opens during the daytime, but you have to wait until early afternoon for the basement, which is where their barrel aged and sour beers are located.

I decided to try an experiment. I snagged a chunk of the amazing blue cheese on my stave and chucked it into my gob to let it melt. Then I took another tug on the sour. It was like an epiphany. The sourness was tamed and the oak, plums and chocolate came bursting through.

"Hey Ratchet. Here's a chunk of that blue cheese. Coat your mouth with it and then pull on that sour in your flight." I moaned ecstatically.

He picked up the little piece of phenomenal cheese I grudgingly gave up in the interest of science, smeared it on his tongue and took a big ol' shot of the sour.

"Holy shit. Dude! Holy shit!" was about all I got.

"I know, right?" I said.

Well, I didn't actually say that, because I hate that phrase with the fires of a thousand suns, but you get my drift. I was too deeply in awe of the great combo to say anything much more intelligent.

That brings me to the next beer. Their bourbon barrel aged Infidel Porter. I'd had their regular Infidel on my last visit. I was very interested in seeing what the difference was, and I was not disappointed.

Pitch black on the pour, this baby tasted like the barrel. Bourbon, bourbon, bourbon. Sweet corniness, some chocolate and a mild booziness. It smelled like vanilla, chocolate and malt. A great example of a barrel aged beer, it satisfied my needs.

The day was over far too soon. We poured Ratchet back in the Boozemobile and headed into the afternoon thundershowers.

A day later I started digging around in the cooler and found a beer I had picked up at Bruisin' Ales on my first trip there. Cisco Brewers' Moor Porter. The label is pretty cool. Simple and direct, I dig it.

This beer poured a dark brown. Big bubbles formed the thick, luxurious head, hopefully indicative of a great drink. The lacing started up as the head subsided. It would prove to be one of the only impressive parts of this bottle.

Raising the glass to my nose I was immediately aware of the aroma of burnt chocolate, toffee and a hint of hops. It seemed promising at that point. Then I poured it on my tongue.

Disappointment. That's about the best word to describe it. I know porters don't tend to be all that complex, but this was beyond not complex. It tasted mildly like the burnt chocolate I smelled and it had a nondescript bitterness to it. That's all.

Mrs. Traveler's thoughts? "Bland. No aroma. Tastes kind of like something mass produced, like Lowenbrau Dark."

I agree. I'm not all that impressed. Either that or Wicked Weed spoiled me. I'm willing to bet it's a combo of the two.