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.

Liquid Breadfruit. What a Cool Name.

I'm a bit of a tikiphile. I'm not talking about the Caribbean style of tiki hut so many are fond of. No. I'm talking about true tiki. I guess I should probably capitalize that. Tiki.

I attend Tiki conventions like The Hukilau and Tiki Oasis. Yes, you read that right. There are conventions dedicated to vintage Aloha shirts, lounge music, rum drinks and mid century-style debauchery. Everybody gets dressed up in their vintage best, yours truly included, and grooves to the dulcet tones of such greats as Arthur Lyman, Augie Colon, Don Tiki, Martin Denny and Les Baxter. DJs spin vintage vinyl and room parties go all night long.

I love Tiki so much that I built a bar in my basement that harkens back to the golden days of Tiki. Trader Scott's Tiki Bar & Lounge is 600 square feet of retro Tiki goodness, mixed in with my own personal style of escape. I spend a good deal of my time within its confines, blackout curtains pulled and classic lounge and jazz on the iPod. It only seems right that, when I'm in the mood for something other than a Mai Tai or Zombie, I should reach for something like Maui Brewing/Dogfish Head's Liquid Breadfruit collaboration.

Here's what the brewers have to say about it.

It's a cool name. Beer has been called liquid bread for centuries. Monks used to make it and people used to subsist on it before we figured out that bugs in the water did nasty things to our guts.

I picked this can up in Seattle (Tukwila, actually, but who's looking at a map?) and transported it all the way home. Thankfully it got here safely, because I was about to crack this baby open. I'm a fan of cans because they're easy to transport, easy to stack in my cooler and easy to collapse so that they don't take up as much room in the recycle bin.

Pouring this beer into my much-loved Trio Wine, Beer and Cheese tulip I was struck by the apparent turbid nature of the beer. It had a bit of a wheat beer cloudiness to it. The head was nice, even though I had to force it a bit by pouring down the middle, but it built up nicely then settled out within about five minutes. Bubbles were extremely fine and not all that prolific. No lacing whatsoever on the glass after it was finished, which kind of surprised me.

Grabbing a big ol' whiff of the stuff, I noticed a yeasty note first. Kind of like bread baking in your mom's house. A bit leathery, with an underlying sweetness and toasted nut aroma.

As I poured the beautiful elixir across my tongue, I was a bit shocked to get a mild tartness/sourness that I wasn't expecting given the nose. There was a smidge of maltiness, but not enough to really blow out the tartness. The carbonation was soft on the tongue, and my mouth was in tropical heaven. The body is much heavier than I would have expected from this beer. So much that I felt almost like I had a skim coat of oil on my tongue.

The Calypso hops they used linger at the end. You really don't get hit by them until after most of the rest of the flavors have gone away. I did detect a sweetness on the sides of my tongue that was doing battle with the bitterness of the hops, and it was a pretty nice little war.

As the beer warmed up the higher gravity became a bit more apparent, but not as much as some other 8% beers I've had. That hop bitterness I just mentioned also toned down some, allowing more of the sweetness to hang out in my mouth.

If I could describe a Tiki beer, this might very well be it. It's tropical without being too sweet. True Tiki drinks are never crazy sweet. (Hint: If your Mai Tai is pink, it's garbage. Send it back.) They evoke images of a Plastic Paradise that many in the '40s, '50s and '60s only dreamed of. This beer makes me want to visit Maui, and I guess that's what it's all about.

Here's a great recipe for a Mai Tai, as noted by Jeff "Beachbum" Berry, the premier cocktail archaeologist. I've made this recipe countless times and it never fails to make me happy. The mint is important. It adds another level to the drink.

In your shaker pour 1 ounce each fresh lime juice, Rhum Clément VSOP Martinique rum, and Appleton Estate Extra dark Jamaican rum; 1/2 ounce orange Curacao; and 1/4 ounce each orgeat syrup and sugar syrup.  Add at least 2 cups of crushed ice, then shake well for around 10 seconds.  Pour unstrained into a double old-fashioned glass.  Sink your spent lime shell in the drink, and garnish with a mint sprig.