In Which I Actually Make It To A Cask Event For Once

The previous two posts have been a bit Debbie Downer. So, let me surcease being a nittering nabob of negativism and wax ecstatic 'pon the great deal of fun I just had, thanks to the nice people of CAMRA Vancouver.

But first, a word about Dead Frog.

I got this at the 16th St liquor store, and while there's always something interesting there, take note that they don't have a lot of turn-over. In fact, you can git yo'self a bottle of Naughty Hildegaard, Spring Rite or even Cuvee D'Hiver, last I checked. So whither this comes in the Brewmaster's lineup, I know not.

But let me speak to the schizophrenic nature of this brewery. At best, its regular lineup is a local version of Sleeman's. At worst, its regular lineup is a local version of Sleeman's. If I wanted to drink Sleeman's, I would drink some damn Sleeman's.*

*Actually, if I felt like having a Sleeman's, I'd probably go for some retrograde phrenology and hit myself with a series of large mallets until I snapped out of it.


But as for the Brewmaster's Series, well, apart from the T-Pain label, they've all been quite good. Case in point: the Citra Hop Dead Frog. Scuttlebutt has it that there's a bit of a revolving door at Dead Frog, so the wide variety of styles in their Brewmaster's Series could possibly be due to there being a new Brewmaster every few months. However, I've done exactly zero research to ascertain whether this rumour has any truth behind it. I mention it here in the best traditions of TEH INTERNETS, where nobody is ever wrong about anything cough Wikipedia cough.

This hopped Pilsner is pretty good, and I even poured it into something other than my usual pint glass. 'Twas a hot day, and it went down like a torpedo'd Lusitania. Which is to say, quickly, and with a certain amount of North-Atlantic-like crisp refreshment.

But on to the cask event.

This was a last-minute attend for Mrs. Damnbeerblogger and self. Normally, we attempt some minor project on The House, and next thing you know we've spent all day installing skylights, flying buttresses and a moat. Happily though, a quick jaunt on the seabus had us in Gastown in a jiff.

Vancouver sure is beautiful from the water.

Any road, as it turns out, our memberships were lapsed, so we seized the opportunity to sign up, especially as I keep telling everyone I'm in CAMRA anyway. It's in my byline for the paper and everything.

Shout outs to @mikefarlane, @scorpiogirl and @vancitybeer, all of whom I now have put a face to the tweet-handle.

The beer.

Howe Sound Jack-Daniels Infused Imperial Pumpkin Ale:
-delicious!
-less brown-sugar flavour than last-year's (could be the Jack in the cask)

R&Bl Brewing Black Cherry Hefewiezen
-light and refreshing, the cherries are quite subtle
-second sip: man, R&B is underrated as a brewery

Red Racer Vodka-Soaked-Vanilla-Bean Infused Oatmeal Breakfast Stout
-That's a long name for a beer
-Oooh, but it's good
-The vanilla is pretty buried, it's almost a coffee stout
-Can't wait for cans of RR stout. Imperial?

Granville Island Brewing Bitter
-As usual, GIB's special fare is much better than the mainline beers (although I like those too)
-Nice and hoppy, and only 3.5%? Cool.

Driftwood 2010 Old Cellar Dweller:
-Okay Driftwood, THIS is why I was so hard on the Twenty Pounder. I struggle to think of anything even half as good as this stuff.

Also a cask of La Chouffe, but we gave that a miss, as we had to hurry back home. Altogether a great cask event, and we look forward to being able to attend more of these as The House becomes complete. Yeah, right.

Last, a quick word about Beer-Mixology, Mrs. Damnbeerblogger's speciality.

Here's something she whipped up at the event: a blend of the Howe Sound and the Red Racer.

This would then be a Jack-Daniels Infused Imperial Pumpkin Vodka-Soaked-Vanilla-Bean Infused Oatmeal Breakfast Stout. Or you could abbreviate and call it Kick-Ass. Kick-Ass tastes delicious.

Getting Canned

It's the May long weekend, and already on my Twitter stream, folks are asking, "What's a good craft beer to drink... that comes in cans?" Good question.

Take a peek at this:

This is the best craft beer in Hawaii, as I discovered on my recent trip there. You know what? It only comes in cans. You know why? Well, this is ripped right off Maui Brewing's website:

...cans don't break like glass bottles do and it is particularly important for us to do whatever we can to keep our 120 miles of coastline, 30 miles of beaches, and other public areas free of broken glass! Cans can be recycled, are virtually unbreakable, and are lighter to carry and easier to chill than bottles. Also, key to the purity of our beers: cans eliminate light damage and the risk of oxidation. This will ensure that our canned microbrews will be flavorful, brisk, and satisfying.

The Myth of the Metallic Taste:

Bottles have long been considered the best packaging for good beer. This is no longer the case with modern aluminum cans because they are lined with an internal coating. This lining prevents the beer from ever making contact with the aluminum and ensures no metallic aftertaste.

This isn't just marketing, folks, there's a whole website devoted to the superiority of aluminum cans as a way to package beer. Personally, my favourite type of beer packaging is me, but I do confess a certain preference for cans over bottles, particularly when it comes time to return the empties.

So, suggestions.

Immediately, Central City Brewing's Red Racer lineup presents its cans like I was wearing a Sharks jersey and sitting in a penalty box. Before I got annoyingly serious about fly-fishing, there always used to be a sixer of their IPA under the seat in the canoe, and we'd crack 'em every time we hooked something. Even when it was just weeds. Or my hat.

Granville Island Brewing does nearly all their beers in can form. My fav is probably the Brockton as it won't smack you around as much as the RR IPA, but it's super refreshing for a hop-head. Honourable mention to Kitsilano Maple.

Howe Sound Brewing also now provides its lager in cans. It's getting near the temp where this'd be the perfect beer to suff in the bottom of the backpack for a good hike-in camping trip. This beer belongs wedged in some ice-cold creek, with a smoky campfire for ambience and the sounds of the BC wild for dinner music.

Oft-overlooked is Tree Brewing's canned beer. Unfortunately, none of their award-winning Hop-Head makes the leap to aluminum, and that's a special shame because Tree uses tall-boys, which are just about the greatest thing ever. Nothing is more satisfying than a perfectly filled pint-glass, and I've got my fingers crossed that Hop-Head joins Thirsty Beaver, Kelowna Pils and Cutthroat in 500ml form.

More Craft Beers from the Interior: Fernie Brewing (First Trax) and the aptly-named Cannery Brewing: Anarchy Amber or the Naramata Nut-Brown are the way to go here. Also worth a try are some of Nelson Brewing's beers. I like the Faceplant, but have heard good things about their new Hemp Ale.

For us Island-types, Race-Rocks and Lighthouse Lager would probably be my go-to summer canned beers. A lament for the Keeper's Stout in cans, but with the sadly limited appeal of darker beers, I can understand the move to only provide this delicious Irish-style stout in bottle format.

So there you go. Canada: you can't spell it without "can". Also "nada", but let's just overlook that, shall we?

Empties.

Bit of a catchup post today, as I've been sadly neglecting my blog. Apologies.

Actually, scratch that. I shouldn't be apologizing for not inflicting my rambling incoherencies upon you for nearly a week. If anything, you should be thanking me!

Well, you're welcome. And if you'd like to know why there's been a dearth of activity on YADBB, it's because my good lady wife and I are attempting to purchase a house, an activity which is as stressful and difficult and apparently impossible as trying to castrate a unicorn. Luckily, there are many ways to cope with stress: vigorous exercise, deep breathing, meditation.

I chose alcohol. It's traditional.

But the line representing page hits on the blog has been trailing off like the trajectory of Charlie Sheen's career or, if you prefer, coming very close to a graph representing my fading will to live over the duration of that awful Rebecca Black video, so it's time to get back behind the keyboard.

Let's rummage through the pile of empties. First dead soldier: an Elysian Immortal IPA. We hit up the Hogshack in Steveston on Saturday for some BBBQ (the extra B is for craftBeer) and an Elysian schwag pack. I highly recommend it. Great beer, good eats and yet more people fired up about the local craft brewing scene. Plus I got a free shirt.

Read here, for a proper review of the place.

Next, a new pair from Howe Sound Brewing.

Rockfish Red is good, although after drinking wild and wooly stuff like Pothole Filler and Megadestroyer I was a little surprised it didn't actually contain fish. But as a fisherperson, I applaud their action for conservancy, and it was a tasty little bevvy. The hemp ale is the better of the two; it's a full Big Lebowski of malty creaminess. I didn't know the wife had picked it up but my beerdar must have been on because I inexplicably chose to buy humus on the way home. Fitting.

Next up, a hopeful story accompanying a purchase of Hitachino Nest.

Cook Street Liqour provided me with some high-test after a day of wrestling with mortgage lenders, and amongst the haul were a pair of Japanese hooters. These guys were hit hard by the tsunami, and there were rumors that the brewery would be out of commish for months, if not years. At least as far as I can ascertain, Hitachino will be back in production in about 3-4 weeks. The sake brewery seemed more damaged, pictures can be found here. Good news for everyone. Side note: the Cook Street boys have got their hands on some Baird beer. Coming soon from the rising sun.

Lastly, a small obit for Dogfish Head.

As everybody already knows, the Delaware-based brewery has simply maxed out in terms of production. It's Peak Beer, worse even than running out of liquid dinosaurs. As such, no more DH for Canada, the U.K. and a few Red States.

Sad surely, and I'll especially miss the 90 minute 4-pack (far more effective than NyQuil), but I'm going to put a positive spin on it. You know what? So we lose one beer company. Big deal. This might have been a tragedy three or four years ago, but nowadays we've got multiple local guys brewing crazy beers, loads more foreign imports like Mikkeller and Brew Dog, good availability of East and West Coast American brewers, and the big micros are stepping up their game in a huge way. Examples? Just look at Lighthouse's Deckhand and GIB's upcoming Imperial IPA.

You know what? It's a hell of a time to be a craft-beer fan in BC. We've got kickass brewers, great organizations like CAMRA, and a community of enthusiastic beer-folks spreading the gospel. I'll miss Dogfish, but one dead soldier either way doesn't make a damn difference.

Penance.

Note: Just rolled over 1000 page-views on the counter! Many thanks to all who read and comment, and special thanks to the nice folks who brew me my delicious fizzy Medicine. No beer today, but a post to mark the occasion nonetheless.


The woman gazing pensively out into the misty beyond in this picture is my lovely wife, and ninety-nine percent of the time, she is kind and loving and wonderful beyond words. I am perfectly aware that I have many faults, chief among them the inability to organize my way out of a wet paper bag even when provided with a giant pair of pruning shears, a headlamp, and a large-print edition of the book "Organizing Your Way Out Of Wet Paper Bags For Useless, Bumbling, Incompetent, Pea-Brained, Blithering Idiots: A Pop-up Book".

If she ever leaves me, it will be about ten minutes before I'll be found dead, curled up in the fetal position in a pool of my own drool, vomit and urine.

So ninety-nine percent of the time, she's great, and my heart leaps about in my chest like a gaffed salmon just thinking about how much I love her. However. HOWEVER. One percent of the time I go running with her, and then the bubbly sweet-natured girl I married turns into something that makes Pol Pot look like a recess lady. Forced death march doesn't even come close. You can see from the picture that the rock surface we are descending is as slippery and dangerous as Charlie Sheen. She made me run down it, and then run back up it again, even after I'd already climbed up the other side of the mountain (it's Mt. Finlayson, local peeps).

But even here I appreciate her for the prodding, while she leaps up the hillside like a deranged mountain goat and I labour on behind, tomato-faced and apoplectic, because without it, I wouldn't really get any exercise. And with apologies to Left4Beer and his studies around the health effects of drinking beer, and taking the general view that a beer now and then lowers my stress levels back down to a more-manageable DEFCON 3, there is only one thing I absolutely know about the physical effects of drinking beer: it makes you fat.

It has been clinically proven, without shadow of a doubt, that if you drink enough beer regularly, you will turn into Zach Galifianakis. After he's just eaten John Goodman. Deep-fried. Except you won't be funny.

And given that I have the build of a teenage Laotian ladyboy, I can't really carry any extra poundage unless I want to resemble a burlap sack full of suet that somebody's stuck four pipe-cleaners into. So today is a beer-free day, and tomorrow I have to go for a run, and Friday I should probably do a long bike ride, and maybe by Saturday I can think about cracking open something delicious (suggestions? Howe Sound, perchance?).

However, I'm happy to do Penance for my beery sins since the good craft brewers of B.C. continue to tempt with lascivious hoppiness. Ooh, that reminds me! Naughty Hildegaard soon?