Hoppy Thoughts

The Worst of the Worst

2009-07-07T03:00:00.011-04:00

In addition to being a beer lover, I'm also a journalist. More importantly, I too am a huge nerd. Roll those three together, and it's no surprise that I keep a list of all the beers I've sampled. Well, the ones I remember anyway.

After a few new additions on Independence Day, I'm up to 615 documented samplings. I once endeavored to rank the beers on my list in order from favorite to least favorite, but it was far too great an undertaking for one man. Besides, how could I name my Best Beer of All-Time?? My beer tastes change with my mood, with the season and by the minute.

A famous beer writer once opined, "My favorite beer is the one that's in my hand." It is much, much easier, however, to identify your least favorite beer of all-time. Great brews stand out in your mind, as does the first moment that fateful drink touched your lips. But how can you compare beers when they achieve a certain level of greatness?

We all remember in painstaking detail, though, the absolute most disgusting beer we've ever had the misfortune of forcing down our throats. That first vomit-inducing swallow is ingrained in our memories like a terrible nightmare.

I can't name my Top 10 Beers of All-Time -- that's why the list to the right is my favorite beers "of the moment" -- but I have no problem selecting the Bottom 10. A now-famous Web site proclaims "Respect Beer," but these brews have no place in this world.

THE WORST BEERS ON THE PLANET
(from bad to worst)

10. Left Hand Juju Ginger
A ginger beer ... or ginger ale, if you will? Terrible idea. And tastes just as bad. The taste isn't as terrible as the rest of these beers (that's why it's No. 10), it's just gingery. The whole beer, though, is bland and bleh.

9. Leinenkugel NorthWoods Lager
For all its reputation as a historic brewery, Leinenkugel makes some not-so-good beers. There are at least three other Leinies I could put on this list, but NorthWoods makes the cut because of its odd flavor and weird aftertaste.

8. Bar Harbor Blueberry Ale
I don't know much about Bar Harbor other than both their beers I've tried are nasty. The Blueberry Ale tastes like the Kool-Aid Man filled himself up with blue liquid and took a piss in a beer bottle. Bar Harbor's Real Ale is gross, too.

7. Creemore Springs Premium Lager
Ah, the Canadians. I heard good things about beer from north of the border, then I visited Toronto and made the mistake of sampling it. All Canadian beer I tried was flavorless swill. Creemore was not flavorless. Unfortunately it had the flavor of ass water. Canadian ass water.

6. Natural Ice
I think we all know how bad the infamous Natural beers can beer, but Ice takes the prize for nastiest Natty. Just typing the words "Natural Ice" make my stomach turn upside down.

5. Gritty McDuff's Original Pub Style Ale
This beer had a quirky name, so I tried it. I've learned with vast experimentation, however, that any brew with the words "Pub," "Original" or "Real" in the name will be undrinkable. It's like the beer is so bad, the brewers can't fit it into a category, so they call it a generic Pub Style Ale. Anyway, you should stay away from any pub that serves it.

4. Anchor Our Special Ale 2008
I love Anchor. One of my favorite breweries. And each year, Anchor makes a new Christmas-time beer that I normally look forward to. Last year's seasonal, for whatever reason, was a swing and a miss. Sometimes you'll get a skunked six-pack, so I bought another, and it was just as unbearable. It was so bad, I threw a few bottles out, and I never do that.

3. Miller Chill
It's like Lime Drink and Miller Lite had a baby. A retarded baby.

2. Burger Beer
I have never seen this beer anywhere else besides my college fraternity pledge party. Some of the older guys went out and bought dozens of cases of the cheapest swill they could find ... which happened to be Burger at $5.99 a case (and this was this decade, not way back in the '70s or something). This gasoline-flavored drink is good for one thing only -- erasing memories.

1. Budweiser Chelada
It might be unfair to make this The Worst Beer On The Planet because I'm not sure it's actually beer. It's something Bud came up with, I guess, to reach the ever-increasing Hispanic population. It's Budweiser mixed with a popular Mexican drink known as Clamato, which is clam juice and tomato juice. As impossibly terrible as that sounds, it's 100 times worse. I still regret the night I was brave and order this at a bar (lots of Mexicans where I live). I still shit my pants when I think about it.

2009-06-09T17:28:00.004-04:00

It was a Wednesday. I was hungry. More importantly, I was thirsty. I had that parched dryness in my mouth that only the perfect craft brew could alleviate. I wanted something different, though, than the one bar with a decent tap selection within 50 miles of my apartment could offer.

I wanted some microbrewed ale straight from the brewpub. So, Penny (the girlfriend) and I hopped into The Hawk (my 2005 Honda Civic) and started the 30-mile journey to the only brewpub within 100 miles of Naples, Florida: Hops Grill & Brewery in Fort Myers.

Now Hops is nothing special. In fact, I would say it's rather unspecial. It's a four-state chain brewpub, and it's not one of the good ones. Unlike Rock Bottom or select other chains, it has never won awards, nor will it probably ever do so. But, gosh darn it, it's craft beer, and that's what I craved.

An odd thing happened, though, at the end of our 45-minute trek to Hops. It was gone. The building remained, but the brewery had long since closed. My only reasonable source for freshly brewed beer was out of my life. Strike another blow to the feeble Southwest Florida beer scene.

Living in Naples is like being stranded on an island surrounded by macrobrewed American light lager. There is no beer scene to speak of. The best "beer bar" in the Southwest Florida three-county area offers maybe 12 craft beers on tap. A small group of liquor stores offer a decent selection of brew, but it's nothing out of the ordinary. And, as hard as I've searched, there are no home-brewing clubs and not even a homebrew store within 100 miles.

So this got me wondering: What makes a good beer scene? I'm no expert -- in anything, really -- but here's a short list I've compiled. Not all of these characteristics are essential to having a good beer town, but the more the better:

~ Having a brewpub quickly creates a haven for beer-lovers
~ Liquor stores that specialize in craft beers, both foreign and domestic
~ Bars willing to make the effort to bring in taps of good ol' American craft brew. And I'm not talking about Amber Bock.
~ Homebrew shops and clubs
~ It's always good to have a beer expert. Either a person, brewery or bar/store. By expert, I mean someone (or place) renown for beer knowledge. Someone recognized on the national beer scene as a beer afficiondo.

Most of all, you have to have passion, something Southwest Florida lacks. And not just in beer. This whole area smacks of apathy, I think because of the laid-back beach lifestyle. Plus, the hot temperatures make it tough to brew beer, endearing the state more to wine-lovers than hopheads.

But not all Florida is this way. The best I can tell, Tampa and Orlando are burgeoning beer havens. Both cities are on the way up in the beer world, with the brewpubs there making better and better beer each day.

Now if only that could trickle down south.

Brewing good times and good beer

2009-06-07T16:30:00.004-04:00

It's been about 10 months since I started my journey into the wild, wacky, malty world of homebrewing. In that time, I've found the hobby to be the single most frustrating and yet rewarding activity I've ever participated in.

The topic of homebrewing is so in-depth and all-encompassing that it deserves its own blog. In fact, there are billions of homebrew blogs, sites, forums and pages out there on the Web, and I don't intend this to be an attempt to rival them. Rather, on this blog reserved for lovers of ale, I am here to encourage others to dive head-first into this fascinating hobby.

Making beer, in theory, is simple. Just boil malt and hops with water for an hour, add yeast and let the whole concoction sit somewhere cool for two weeks. There are so many variables, however, it can be maddening. Any slip or slight in any minute area or tiny detail can leave you with five gallons of crap-water. It took me four batches of brewing to finally get something I enjoyed drinking. That's six months and hundreds of dollars spent honing my skills.

But when it all comes together ... oh my, there is nothing quite like it. I'd like to think I've been pretty successful in all assets of my life, but I've never experienced as much joy as when I finally cracked the one homebrew that was as good as anything I can buy at the store. To know that I made this drink, this beverage that riles my passion, swelled my soul with pride.

And I'm no expert whatsoever. I have plenty of room to grow. I have endless miles of improvement ahead of me, so the beer and the fun can only get better from here on out. It is a joy I wish upon all of my beer-loving compatriots. If you truly love good beer, you owe it to yourself to get into homebrewing.

The best part of the hobby, of course, it drinking your own brew. Not only do you get drunk, but you are intoxicated with a sense of accomplishment knowing that you created this magic drink. Normally when I get drunk, I feel like a bit of a slob and a drunk. Now, when I'm hammered at 3 p.m. off my own brew, I can feel good about it.

So go buy the above-pictured book, spend $100 on basic equipment and ingredients and get brewing!

The case for cans

2009-06-04T14:14:00.009-04:00

It's commonly accepted beer-consuming protocol that good brew must be poured from a bottle into a style-specific drinking glass. Lagers belong in pilsner glasses, Belgians go in goblets, strong ales are to be poured into snifters and wheat beers shall be drank from weizen glasses.

The proper glass contributes to both the taste and appearance of a beer, increasing the overall drinking experience. But what's a fella to do at the beach?

Nothing is more satisfying than a cold one on a hot day by the ocean. It's a substantial pain in the rear, however, to lug heavy, clunky, brittle bottles to the beach. And don't even think about transporting pint glasses shoreside.

The unfortunate solution for the craft beer lover has been to grab a six-pack of macrobrew to imbibe on the beach because it's the only beer packaged for outdoor consumption. Until now.

There's a wonderful movement bubbling in the craft beer scene, and I say it's about time: Cans. Yes, cans, those aluminum containers associated with cheap piss-water and drunken minors. No one would have dreamed of putting a good, flavorful beer in a can until 10 years ago when the visionaries at Oskar Blues Brewing decided to wrap their Dale's Pale Ale in aluminum simply on a whim.

The can filled a niche for drinkers at tailgate parties, on golf courses, on airplanes and anywhere else where glass isn't allowed or bottles are just to cumbersome. And now several other craft brewers and beers have followed suit: Brooklyn Brewery, Yuengling, North Atlantic Brewing, Wittkerke, Pilsner Urquell, Old Speckled Hen, even Guinness.

It's time to embrace the can and realize beer poured from lightweight aluminum is just as tasty as that from glass bottles. If anything, the light-proof walls of a can will keep brew fresher than glass, which can allow its contents to get skunked.

Cans have a stigma against them because they usually contain cheap swill and are associated with pounding as many brewskies as possible to get hammered rather than appreciate the beer. That image, however, adds a certain amount of novelty to putting craft brew into a can.

When I think of cans, I'm taken back to my college days, popping a hole in the aluminum with a car key then shotgunning the beer with my frat brothers. Imagine, though, reliving the raucous parties of your youth, only this time with wonderful real beer. That's what this canning revolution does.

Such a magnificent beer (such as Dale's or Oskar Blues' Old Chub) coming from such a drab package is reminiscent of a beautiful flower growing out of a pile of manure. The origins of the beauty make the product all the more amazing.

Now, if only these cans of craft brew cost the same as a sixer of Coors. A four-pack of Dale's Pale Ale retails for about $9. Well worth it, though, for the delicious liquid and the memories of parties past.

Back by popular demand

2009-06-02T21:40:00.003-04:00

As stated in my original blog post (just scroll down to read it -- there are only like four entries), I've always wanted to write about beer. I created this blog to satisfy that passion. Once I started Hoppy Thoughts, I was pretty proud of myself for taking the next step in my eventual career in the beer biz.

Well, then I got a bit complacent. Creating this blog, after all, was more work that I'd ever done toward actually realizing my dream. I neglected to realize that I actually have to write in this blog for it to be effective. Consequently, I let my friend Hoppy Thoughts fall by the wayside.

But now I'm back in full effect, ready to rock the blogosphere with my insignificant, unimportant and uninformed thoughts on all things hops (and malt, and yeast, and adjuncts, even water). I'm making it a concerted point to blog about lovely, lovely beer at least three times a week. In fact, I swear here and now in front of all 1.5 of my readers that three blogs will be posted weekly.

You see, the problem is my day job (which often becomes my night job). I'm a sportswriter by trade, so all I do all day is write and think about writing and plan my writing. So, the last thing I want to do after eight hours at a keyboard is write some more. But once I get started a beer-bloggin', it's always enjoyable.

So, my beer brain will be emptied into this forum every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. That is for sure. Please continue to come back and tell you friends, your mother, your friends' mothers and your mothers' friends.

The most wonderful time of the beer

2009-04-22T13:16:00.004-04:00

We as humans are very present-minded people. We, for the most part, are solely concerned with the here and now. Whatever is foremost in our minds appears to be the most important.

And so it is with beer. I believe it was none other than arguably the world’s greatest beer writer, Michael Jackson, who opined, “My favorite beer is the one in my hand.” When it comes to superlatives, we have short memories. How many times have you heard some one declare, “This is the best beer I’ve ever had!”

I’ve long been trying to officially determine my favorite beer season – spring, summer, fall or winter – but every three months or so I become too entrenched in the beers-du-jour to objectively judge. So, here and now I will do my best to declare my favorite set of seasonals.

Let us first take a look at the calendar of beers season by season:

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SPRING

Ahhhhhhh. A season of rebirth and renewal. A season oft associated with love. These spring beers are crisp, refreshing, easy on the palate and playful.

The best and original example of a spring beer would be a bock. In olden times, bocks were brewed late in the year, stored (or lagered, which is German for “to store,” hence the name lager) in cold German cave and tapped in the spring. Lagers are crisp, clean and clear, which is why most spring beers take on these qualities.

My favorite examples of spring beers: Sam Adams White Ale, Sierra Nevada Early Spring Beer, Broadripple Brewpub (Indianapolis) Spring Bock, Dogfish Head Aprihop, Rogue Dead Guy (available year-round, but it’s considered a maibock, which is a spring style).

SUMMER

The hot months call for a light, refreshing, maybe even fruity beer. You certainly don’t want to be sipping a stout when the temperature is creeping into the triple digits. I made the mistake of taking a sixer of a brown ale to the beach one time, and it was the worst experience of my life.

Wheat beers are the favorite under the sweltering sun. Anything light will do, though. If you like crispness of an American Pils, that works. If you want a little more flavor and kick, but not too much, and American Pale Ale will do the trick.

My favorite summer beers: Bell’s Oberon, Flying Dog Doggie Style Pale Ale, Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat, Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier, Upland Wheat.

FALL

The leaves are changing, the breeze is getting chilly and you want a beer that will warm your soul. But, you don’t want a brew that’s too heavy for the mild, sunny days of fall.

Obviously, Oktoberfests are the beers that come to mind in the fall. Brown ales seem to work well during this season, and it’s really the only time you see pumpkin beers. A hearty amber or red ale, though available year-round, is fantastic on a chilly fall evening.

My favorite fall beers: Sam Adams Oktoberfest, Lagunitas Imperial Red, Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale, Dogfish Head Raison D’Etre, Post Road Pumpkin Ale.

WINTER

This is probably the easiest of the beer seasons to identify. Anything that’s thick, heavy and/or loaded with alcohol makes a superb winter beer. You want something to warm and comfort you as the snow falls and the ice forms.

Stouts are the first winter beers that come to mind because of their inherent thickness. But, stouts aren’t always the “heaviest” beers in terms of alcohol content. Little-known old ales (North Coast’s Old Stock Ale) and strong ales (Stone’s Arrogant Bastard) will warm you up good. Barleywines, with their high alcohol content, will do even better.

Winter also lends itself handily to Christmas beers. If you get the right Christmas beer, with its spiciness and intense flavor, you’re in for much yuletide cheer.

My favorite winter beers: Great Lakes Christmas Ale, Delirium Noel, Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale, Sam Smith’s Winter Welcome, Bell’s Expedition Stout.

***********

So, then, which of these wonderful times of year is best? Here are my end-all-be-all rankings:

1. Winter
Winter is the beer time for the same reason the NFL is the greatest sport. They’re the shortest seasons, and their long layoff makes you want them more. You can find most seasonals in some form year-round, but Christmas beer is unique to these snowy months.

2. Fall
You can drink a nice summer wheat in the fall, but you can’t drink a hefty fall beer when it’s warm out. It just makes you feel gross. So, similar to winter, fall grabs the No. 2 spot because its brews are unique to the season. And delicious.

3. Summer
I supposed I’m partial to summer because I love wheat beers. My favorite brew of all time is Bell’s Oberon. But, while these summer beers are thirst-quenching and delicious, they aren’t as flavorful as winter and fall beers. I can’t really say I look forward to summer wheats as I do Christmas ales.

4. Spring
Eh, spring is spring. Good beer that I’ll buy when I see it, but nothing I especially look forward to. Plus, I don’t really like bocks. It’s all about personal choice

The Boycott

2009-04-18T19:09:00.002-04:00

If you read my last post, you know I saw Beer Wars on Thursday and I now fully despise macrobrewers. If you didn't read my last post, go ahead and have a looksy. It's OK, I'll wait...

In support for the small craft brewers, which I hope someday to join, I am boycotting products from the Big Three. Well, it's really the Big Two now since Miller and Coors merged. Regardless, from this point on, I will not drink a beer brewed, owned or distributed by Anheuser-Busch InBev or MillerCoors.

Sounds easy enough, right? Just steer clear of anything with Bud, Miller or Coors in the name. That's part of the boycott, but only a small portion. Thanks to recent mergers (A-B with Belgian giant InBev; Miller with South African company SAB, then Coors), there are literally hundreds of beers that fall under this boycott.

For example, I can no longer wake up to my morning Steel Reserve (owned by MillerCoors) or get wasted at the beach with Tequiza (Anheuser-Busch). Seriously, though, Leinenkugel, Bass, Hoegaarden, Red Hook, Blue Moon and Killian's are beers I've been known to enjoy that I will no longer drink.

I encourage everyone who cares about beer -- good beer that is -- to join me. To accommodate those who want to help rid the world of the Evil Empire, I've compiled a list of beers to avoid. These, my friends, are the beverages we are no longer to touch:

They're broken down into category. I didn't list every single product. Instead, if "Miller" is written down, it's understood that every product with "Miller" in the name is boycotted. Got it?

A-B InBev
Alexander Keith’s
Bacardi Silver
Bare Knuckle Stout
Bass
Beach Bum Blonde
Beck’s
Boddingtons
Bohemia
Brahma
Budweiser or Bud
Budvar Czechvar
Busch
Franziskaner
Harbin Lager
Hoegaarden
Jack’s Pumpkin Spice
Kirin
Labatt
Landshark
Leffe
Lowenbrau
Michelob
Murphy’s
Natural
O’Douls
Oranjeboom
Redbridge
Red Hook (minority ownership)
Rolling Rock
St. Pauli Girl
Shock Top
Spaten
Staropramen
Stella Artois
Stone Mill Pale Ale
Tennet’s Ale
Tequiza
Tiger Beer
Widmer (minority ownership)
Wild Hop Lager
Winter’s Bourbon Cask Ale

MillerCoors
Aguila
Blue Moon
Carling
Castle
Coors
Cristal
Fosters
Grolsch
Ham’s
Henry Weinhard
Icehouse
Keystone
Killian’s
Leinenkugel
Magnum Malt Liquor
Miller
Mickey’s
Milwaukee’s Best
Molson
Olde English
Peroni
Pilsner Urquell
Red Dog
Sheaf Stout
Southpaw
Sparks
Steel Reserve
Zima

Beer Wars: The little guys vs. the Big Three

2009-04-17T14:01:00.004-04:00

In journalism, it's about faces not facts. The way to connect a story to the reader is by telling the stories of the people affected by an issue.

That's the idea behind Beer Wars, a documentary done by film-maker Anat Baron about the craft beer industry. It was shown as a "One Night Only" event at theatres across the country last night, and I was lucky enough to get a ticket. The film was simulcasted to hundreds of locations from a large showing in Los Angeles, and was followed by a live panel discussion from the L.A. theatre.

I went into the movie expecting another "look how great craft beer is" documentary, talking about the passion of the people behind the brew. I thought it would be a film showcasing the growth of the industry and the wacky, crazy beers being made.

Surprisingly, Beer Wars is about the struggles of the craft beer industry in its fight with the Big Three -- Anheuser-Bucsch, Miller and Coors. In fact, the movie wasn't truly about beer. Beer is the vehicle used to tell the story of the people battling to keep their brew alive, solely for the love of brewing.

Beer Wars is an underdog story, and who doesn't love an underdog story? It's the Rocky of beer documentaries. The small craft brewers, like Rocky Balboa, don't want to score a knock out blow on the Big Three, the Apollo Creed of this saga. These underdogs just want to go the distance with the champ and prove they belong.

Even the biggest craft brewer is struggling to hang on. Sam Calagione started Dogfish Head 15 years ago and has one of the 50 largest breweries in America, yet he admitted he still loses sleep sometimes worrying if it business will stay afloat.

Of course, Beer Wars is slanted against the Big Three. Film-maker Anat Baron, who once was an executive for Mike's Hard Lemonade, clearly is heavily biased against Anheuser-Busch. So, everything in the film must be taken with a grain of salt. Still, Baron does a good job using facts, not just opinions, to show the corruption of the A-B evil empire.

Most importantly, the film does an amazing job of cultivating new-found respect for the little guys of beer. Their beer already is far superior to the Big Three's, but now beer-lovers can appreciate the passion and hard work these craft brewers put into their companies.

Seeing the struggles these small brewers face, most of them brought on by the deep-pockets of the Big Three, it makes you never want to drink another Budweiser again. I, for one, am instating a full-fledged boycott of all Big Three products.

But more on that later...

Why I love beer

2009-03-25T19:31:00.001-04:00

Though it’s becoming more rare, I still encounter those people who scoff when I offer them a tasty beverage, sneer and object, “Oh, I don’t like beer.”

This stance was acceptable, or at least tolerable, when I was in college and Natty Light being downed at the frat house. If that was your only experience with beer, of course you’re going to hate it.

Now, when I meet the endangered species who claims to dislike beer, I always reply the same. “You just haven’t had the right one yet.”

After the craft beer boom of the ’90s, there’s a little something for everybody out there. You’re a girl and you like frou-frou drinks? There’s a fruity beer for you. You’re a roughneck who chugs Beam? A bourbon-barrel cask ale will suit your taste. You like wine? Chocolate? Jalapeños?? There is a beer for you.

Beer is just too complex for anyone to swear off all together. Just because your last girlfriend broke your heart doesn’t mean swear off women altogether, right?

The versatility and the endless possibilities of beer is why it is my second favorite thing is the world (the Indiana Pacers being the first). No other drink on the planet is as complex or offers as many varieties as beer.

Wines of the world run the gamut from red to white, sweet to dry, light to hearty, but in the end they all still taste like wine. Beer, on the other hand, has so many different flavors and styles and smells and mouthfeels that “beer” is too small a word to hold the many different types. There is beer out there that I wouldn’t even know was beer unless you told me – it’s flavor profile is that unique.

Versatility means a beer-lover will never be bored. Beer’s bountiful varieties also have led to a specific set of cherished memories. I distinctly remember playing cards till 5 a.m. in Cincinnati when I tasted Dogfish Head’s Red & White for the first time. I remember Dave’s bachelor party when Pat introduced me to Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier. I remember splitting a 32-ounce Spaten Optimator in the Rathskellar Biergarten because an honors professor in college recommended it.

Remember that one time you had that Pinot Grigio? You don’t because they’re all indistinguishable.

There are many other reasons my beer is the best beverage known to man – the smell, its unpretentious nature, the passion it inspires in those who create it – but its versatility is first and foremost and makes it a truly pandemic drink.

An intro to the beer lover and his hoppy thoughts

2009-03-13T18:01:00.007-04:00

I believe it was Killian’s Irish Red my sophomore year of college that first opened my eyes to the world of good beer.

Not that Killian’s is going to take home any trophies at the World Beer Cup, but it showed me that there was more to beer than the cheap yellow, fizzy American macros my buddies were chugging in excess. It showed me that beer could have flavor and wasn’t meant simply to pour down your throat as quickly as possible so you could numb your senses enough to grind on fat chicks at frat parties.

Killian’s was a gateway beer. From there I moved on to Dos Equis and Sam Adams and then to that wonderfully delicious Bell’s Oberon. It was Bell’s Brewery out of Kalamazoo, Mich., that truly hooked me. After graduating from college I moved to Michigan where Bell’s flowed like water. After my first trip to the Mishawaka Brewing Company near South Bend (which is on the Indiana side of the border town I lived in), I was hooked on craft beer.

Since that fateful day, beer has been my passion. It has taken me to numerous brewpubs, the Great American Beer Festival, into a foray into homebrewing and now to this blog.

My occupation is writing – I am a sports reporter by day. But my avocation has long been beer. I’ve always wanted to blend the two for a living. Until I can find a way to financially support my craft beer addiction with my pen and notepad, this blog will have to serve as the outlet for my hoppy thoughts.

Let me tell you a little about this blog by telling you what it won’t be. It won’t be a place for me to review every new beer I try. There are enough beer blogs like that, and besides, who the hell cares what I think about Joe Schmo’s IPA? Try it yourself and form your own impressions.

From time to time, though, if I find a certain beer particularly striking, I may comment on it. But I absolutely will refrain from typical beer reviews. At least until someone pays me to do them.

As I am not a beer insider, and I ain’t the greatest homebrewer, I won’t have a ton of insight to offer into the beer industry and the comings and goings of the business. What I will do is provide my own philosophies on drinking good beer – a pub Plato, if you will.

So hang with me, offer thoughts, rebuttals and suggestions. I’m always down for a good conversation, even a debate, especially when it comes to beer.