The return of Singularity, and other miscellanea

It's back!

It's difficult for me to imagine that we're entering only the fourth year of having a brewery like Driftwood around. They are, and continue to be, BC's Dogfish Head: putting out the sort of beer that you'd elect flag-carrier for the nation at some sort of world-beer throwdown.

This year's Singularity is no exception. It pours as black as squid ink and tastes like drinking barrel-aged 90%-cocoa chocolate fondue. Additionally, if it's 11.8%, then a Tim Horton's Maple Cream Doughnut is low-carb. Everybody knows this beer is at least 14% worth of lip-smacking darkness. If you could bottle all the sexy things Barry White ever said, this is what it would be. My favourite thing to do is this: hold up a pint of Guinness to a bright light - it'll show through red. Hold up a pint of Singularity to the same light - black as the dark side of the moon at night during January.

What else; well how about this?

It pains me to say it, but even Megadestroyer isn't something that you should drink after tasting Singularity. Mega-D is really quite good this year but it's a whole different level of insanity. If you want to have a go at something fun, be blasphemous and pour yourself a half-and-half. The resulting melange of imperial stout hits the low notes like a double bass. Phenomenal.

Now here's something interesting.

I passed over these beers in the bottom of the fridge at 16th street liquor store because... well because I didn't think they were beer.

As it turns out, and despite the seemingly-strange things added to the brew (not just limes, but lemongrass and other spices in the tripel), they're actually pretty good. Partially, I know I'm giving both these brews the benefit of the doubt because they're in cans, and I'm always a sucker for the aluminum, but both worth picking up should you stumble across 'em, particularly the Baltic Porter.

The Alibi Room Is The Best Place to Drink Beer In Vancouver. There. I Said It.

When bearded flip-flop enthusiast and serial-ruiner Jonny Lieberman (of Motortrend) mentioned he was coming to town, there was only one place that I was going to send him: without a moment's hesitation, I recommended the Alibi Room.

Now, had I taken a moment, I probably would have put forward Milestone's or something else equally meh. The Loverman has a tendency to lay waste to previously excellent things like some sort of King Midas of lame. To wit, next time I rolled into the Alibi Room, they'd run out of casks. Dammit, Jonny!

Anyway, probably none of you are getting this inside joke, so I'll move on.

The point is, while there are many excellent places to drink beer in this amazing town, only one can wear the King Heffy -style crown. This is not to cast aspersions on any of the fine quaffing establishments that rub shoulders with the 'Room but, like Highlander, there can only be One... ridiculous Scotsman with a Samurai sword.

In this case, it's Nigel Springthorpe, who is about as Scottish as, I dunno, Christopher Lambert. But trust a Geordie to get the beer right. Naturally, credit goes to sis-in-law Raya Audet and the good Mrs. Springthorpe as weeel.

God I love this place. Not only is the beer list constantly changing and double-sided, but there's frequent casks and also the food is amazing. I'm of the opinion that good beer should not be served in a place that doesn't have good fries. The Alibi Room's taters are kick ass.

There were many sensible, logical and financial reasons for my move from lovely Victoria (and I miss all you guys) to busy and frequently wet Vancouver. But I can't help thinking that perhaps all the rationale laid out on the table was simply just a justification to get closer to the unequivocal best tap list in BC. Crazy, right?

Right?

Is Beer Snobbery Getting Out of Hand?

No.

Okay shortest post ever, everybody go home.

But before we do, let me just explain myself a little. On the old Twit-feed this morning, I stumbled across this article from Draft Magazine. I'll give you the Coles' Notes: writer thinks ciccerones et al are a bit silly, wants beer to remain opiate of masses, comes to realize beer education is good at reducing the snobbery. Or something.

But the question raised is a good one: with the burgeoning popularity of craft beers, do we face falling into the same trap the oenophiles occasionally wander into? Isn't is a bit fruity and extended-pinky-ish to start rambling on about mouthfeel and coriander notes and all the rest of the high-falutin' nonsense that results in "organic grass-fed bison with sesame aioli and watercress froth on a 14-grain hand-kneaded artisan kaiser" when all you want is a goddamn burger?

Again, no. And now I want a burger. Great.

Here's my argument: Wednesday evening found the wife and I at the Lighthouse Brewery for a meeting of the local chapter of CAMRA. There were tours of the brewery, jugs of beer pulled right off the tanks, four taps on the go, and much chatter about beer. We also snuck away and ate brownies (regular ones) in the lab.

At no point was a soapbox produced, a cigar lit, not did anyone peer through a lorgnette at their beer and say something like, "I say, these plastic cups are quite frightfully ghastly, don't you think? One does ever-so-much miss having a proper glaahss to sip from." In short, no snobbery, just CAMRAderie.

Here's the second part to my argument. If you're not already aware, the Georgia Straight's Golden Plates awards came out last week and, as far as the craft beer community is concerned, the beer category was a laughingstock. Among other things, Alexander Keith's IPA was listed as being the best beer from outside BC, ignoring the facts that it's

(a) brewed in Creston,

(b) not a real IPA,

and

(c) goddamned terrible.

Needless to say, everybody who drinks real beer was a trifle upset. I think Chuck's head may have exploded. See his take at Barley Mowat, and mind the swears. There were some successes: Driftwood, Central City and the Alibi Room all got mentions, but it was not what you'd call a banner day for craft beer. But it wasn't quite a horrible one either.

The fact of the matter is, we're getting there. I'm actually just about to head out the door down to the Beagle, where I will no doubt be delighted with the offering that Central City is showing up with. Week after that there's two casks of Naughty Hildegard around Victoria, and more to come. Meanwhile, over in Vancouver, you'd have to be a raging alcoholic to attend every cask event that's going on over the next two months. Either that, or an Australian.

So here's the good news: yes, we need ciccerones to educate the masses so they quit poisoning themselves with pale-yellow fizzy corn-syrup, and grab a real beer instead. And yes, from time to time, I'm a little wary of the tulip-stemmed glass crowd and the attendant pretentiousness that is always just around the corner when you start getting elitist about anything. But beer is, and will always be, more than just a drink that the pedantic can get snobby about.

What it is, when you think about it, is liquid bonhomie. Sure, most beer contains yeast, barley, water and hops, but the good stuff, the stuff all us beerthusiasts are really after, the stuff that people like @sticklebract make, is the kind where they add a fifth ingredient: pride.