What's In a Damn Label?

Another Canucks victory, another King Heffy purchase. Coincidence?

No.

But I digress.

This weekend was quite busy for Mrs. Damnbeerblogger and me. Right after work on Saturday we headed out for a spot of camping in Goldstream which involved a little Begbie Nasty Habit, a smoky campfire and the discovery that my sleeping bag was as useful at retaining warmth as damp single-ply Kirkland toilet paper. It. Was. Cold.

In the morning, with my testicles retracted up to somewhere in the region of my pancreas, we had a big feed of fish-tomato-curry (better than it sounds) and went for a long run.

Two things happened on this run which were surprising. Firstly, I was slightly faster than the Missus (which is like Notorious B.I.G.'s corpse outrunning Hussein Bolt) and, secondly, I experienced my first "runner's high". Basically, this phenomenon is caused by a release of endorphins when the body undergoes muscular distress. Alternatively, you could just have a nice beer, and your legs don't hurt the next day.

Post-run, I always feel like I've earned a beer or two. Or, like, lots. My first selection was based off a recent review over at left4beer.

It provides me with endless mirth to think that Ian and I are lumped into the same category as "beer reviewers". The difference, as I see it, is akin to that between the theatre critic who's seen every major broadway production and is friends with all the great directors, and the guy who shouts, "Look behind you Mr. Caesar!" while spilling his large popcorn in all directions. Which one do you think I am?

Anyway, Ian took on a porter from Wolf brewing up in Nanaimo and he liked it, and when he likes something, it's like Mikey from the Life cereal commercials liking something. As such, I thought I'd give another brew from Wolf the oul' going-over: their Red Brick IPA.

First off, this is not a new beer. As you may or may not be aware, Fat Cat Brewing has been bought out and the new owners are re-branding their beers, while keeping the recipes largely the same.

As you can see, it's the difference between Snagglepuss and the one of hearaldic crests from HBO's Game of Thrones. So we go from Chester Cheetah to mechanized infantry flag, and I'm of two minds about it.

On the one hand, the Fat Cat labelling was dangerously cheezy, but at least it was light-hearted and semi-interesting. Wolf seems pretty generic: oh look, the bottles come in different colours. But it's a bit too serius bizness for me. So how's the beer?

Pretty good actually. No surprises here: it's a pretty solid West-Coast IPA without being overly floral. Think apricot and coppery malts. Certainly worth a try.

For dessert though, I'm going to need something bigger. After all, we haven't advanced to the third round since the Winnipeg Jets were still around. Time for something from my favourite 'Murican brewery: Southern Tier.

But first, a word. If you don't already follow the Penny Farthing Liquor Store on twitter, I highly suggest you do so.

This is a great little store, with a nice selection of beers. Seeing as it's in Oak Bay, fully 7/8ths of the store is dedicated to sherry and Blue Nun, but the beer section is great: lots of Rogue, full Howe Sound lineup, Choklat, Baird, you name it. There were even two fairly forlorn-looking bottles of Anchor Brewing's Christmas Ale.

I got this.

Yum.

Lighthouse Goes Only A Bit Overboard.

Happy visual pun day, everyone.

Let me just put this out there: in about five minutes, I'm headed down to The Beagle, where I will drink heroic amounts of Race Rocks and watch millionaires with bad haircuts either win victoriously a la Gladiator: Blood and Sand, or soil the bedsheets like mad George III after a feed of mushy peas. I like Lighthouse. I like Dean. I think they've got an established fanbase, a passionate new brewer, and a great product lineup.

But.

An Imperial Pilsner?

Let me just frame this for you: I've harped on time and again about how great everything Imperial is. Imperial Pint? Better than the short-bus regular pint. Imperial Tie Fighter? Better than the X-Wing, and apparently environmentally-sensitive as it doesn't have any engines. Imperial measurement system? My car gets forty rods to the hogshead, and that's the way I like it.

So too with Imperial beers... up to a point.

Obviously an Imperial Stout is a fun playground for barrel-aging and the like, and an Imperial IPA (if done right) can be a standout of the brewer's artifice. Even Howe Sound's King Heffy Imperial Hefeweizen bumps up the banana-clove esters to monkey-aphrodisiac levels, and that's pretty delicious.

But.

And yes, I love experimentation and despise half-hearted crossover Xerox beers as much as Adem Tepedelen does. And yes, I'm first in line to taste the newest brew, and yes, everybody up to and including Samuel Adams and Brewdog do an Imperial Pilsner...

But.

This is a good beer. It's hoppy and drinkable, packing a wallop without alcohol-heavy smarminess. It ain't no Fubar-style shotgun special, and will certainly appeal to those who enjoy ze German-style heavyweights.

But.

For me, it's just not a seek-out beer. The up-coming Barnacle Wheat IPA? That, I'm going to track down. That sounds crazy and intriguing. That sounds like an experimental beer that blazes a trail nobody else has done before.

Lighthouse, (and apologies for the pun) you need a beacon. I see no reason why a company that's already got a steady income steam from its mainline brews shouldn't be further out in left field for the experimental stuff. Overboard is a good beer. Navigator was a pretty good beer. Deckhand was a great beer. Next one? Turn it up to eleven.

An Extra Special Bitter Rivalry: YADBB's Election

Bedad it's early. Tell the truth, I'm a bit fuzzy today after sampling a dozen beers last night with the lads and --c'mere 'til I tell you something funny-- I had this crazy dream where despite repeated abuses of power and enviro-trashing, we elected the Lego-haired robo-Steve to a thundering majority. Crazy, right?

*pause*

WE DID WHAT?!?!?!

Well, it's post-election hangover time (figuratively and literally) and as I sit wool-gathering with a cuppa of Bushell's, it's also time to dissect the beer pairing for last night's electoral frivolities: a sampling of every last Bitter in BC!

That I could find.

Last Wednesday.

A last minute delivery came by float-plane thanks to @GingerLiz, but other than that, the lineup of beers that faced off on Monday night are all readily available given a modicum of footwork. Notable absences include Big River Brewing's ESB (mentioned by @janteweats as being among the best) and Granville Island Brewing's Bitter, which is receiving high praise so far. Why're they missing? Well, both are only available at the brewery, and while that's not a disqualification (Blue Moon hem-hem) it just made it impossible to get our hands on them for an on-Island tasting. But first, let's set the bar.

As it turns out, we're setting the bar rather low. Fuller's ESB is a old favourite of mine, but when I did a little research to determine how it sat in the ESB lineup, I discovered that the judging guidelines contra-indicate for comparing other bitters against the Fuller's floral, malty profile. Wait, "judging guidelines?" Like I'm going to pay attention to those. It's time to stack the Supreme Court.

Opinion was mixed, but the Fuller's tastes like an old friend. Hum. that sounds unnecessarily dirty. It's true though: this is a very familiar, English-y beer, and will appeal to fans of Wychwood, Black Sheep and the like. Light fruit, bread and toffee tones: tastes like eating the world's blandest fruitcake.

Our first BC brew to take a bow is from Spinnaker's: Mitchell's ESB. Frankly, much like the election, I'm braced for faint disappointment. Nothing against Spinnaker's as an establishment, but their Blue Bridge Double IPA resembles other single IPAs in the same way that the structure from which it takes its name resembles the Golden Gate Bridge. I'm expecting it to be thin and vapid and, unfortunately, this isn't Canada's Next Top Model.

But the Mitchell's surprises by being... not bad! A bit too fizzy, but fairly true to the style, and I bet it'd be nice in-cask. Verdict: worth a try if you're at the pub itself.

Next up is Swan's ESB. I tend to forget about Swan's a bit. Sometimes you can get their bombers everywhere, sometimes you have to go right to the source. I'm curious to see whether the cask they're running at Tres Fantastico helps spread the word and gets them to step up their game a little, although their Coconut Porter is an excellent beer that nobody else does. Would you also seek out their ESB?

Well, maybe. It's nicer than the Mitchell's, that's for sure, but it's still very mild. Makes for a nice pint on a hot day, but I don't know whether I'd ride all the way into town to track it down. Verdict: best at the pub, or on-cask.

Russell's Blood Alley comes as a bit of a surprise. Frankly, my first whiff let me know that I'd buggered up the tasting order. Big hop aroma after the other three, more of a west-coast-style ESB. It's dry-hopped, natch, and there's some big pungencies from the Columbus here.

Overall, well-received, but the baby-IPA-style IBUs may have smashed our palate for the next contestant...

But it hasn't. Howe Sound Brewing's Baldwin and Cooper has some big shoes to fill, and I remember their Bailout as being quite light-drinking. This ESB isn't.

It's got the hops and the earthy, near-acrid finish you expect from West-Siiide stylings, but without the pungency, and with big malts adding a smooth brown bass line. Very drinkable in style. Nuttier than a certain political party. Front-runner for sure.

I thought I had taken a better picture. Oh well; if you aren't already familiar with Central City's unvarying artwork, then you must be living in a cave. In which case, ask a SEAL to describe it.

This beer got shafted. By that I mean that we should have had it about 3rd in rotation. Leaving it until after the Russell and the Baldwin just makes it look kind of half-hearted, when it's actually a very nice beer. Not really sure it's a true ESB, so much as the Red Racer IPA Training Wheels Edition, but it's certainly worth grabbing a six.

Recent champ at CAMRA's spring Fest-of-Ale, Moon Under Water's Blue Moon Bitter is a favourite after-work wind-down. Others, who'd been lucky enough to sample a few early editions preferred the old original, but I like the new tweaked brew.

Problem is, in bomber form, it loses a bit of that fresh hop tastiness. We were lucky enough to have a fresh-drawn growler for comparison, and you could tell the bottled beer had been blunted somewhat. Still very good.

Ah, Hildegard. Probably the best thing about this whole tasting was a better appreciation for what Driftwood has done with the Naughty Nun.

My initial impressions on Hildegard's initial release were, frankly, tinged with pining for the piney perfection of last year's model. That beer wasn't an ESB, but it was Extra Special.

Having gone through the lineup though, this year's Hildegard shows her strengths. It's a very nice west-coast ESB, and oh-so-bitter. Lip-smacking for sure.

But we weren't done yet. Ian showed up with an Elysian ESB (the Wise) which surprised and delighted all, especially Dan, who had some rather unpleasant things to say about their IPAs, and we also managed to cram in a couple of Propeller ESBs. East Coasters, how does Keith's survive with this stuff readily available? It's all about supply and command.

Lastly, I'm happy to report that Lighthouse's Overboard Imperial Pilsner isn't fubar. And I think we liked the Serendipity No. 3 that Dave brought.

But for the next four years of bitterness, there's only one beer for me. If you're at the brewpubs from whence they came, stick with the Spinnaker's, the Swan's and the MUW's. Try to at least sample the Blood Alley and the Hildegard before they disappear.

Baldwin and Cooper's though, that's the must-have.

Dear Songs about Friday: "Bowl" does not rhyme with "Cereal"

First things first. Pray, gaze upon the compelling magnificence that Dan hath wrought:

Truly, this is my Ozymandias moment; when only lone and level sands stretch far away, this crude MSPaint of an elderly gentleman wearing lipstick and holding a bottle of beer that you can no longer get will remind all of the faded glory that was once Yet Another Damn Beer Blog: the Blog that says, "Look on my drinking habits, ye liver health specialists, and despair."

Anyway, after the immense response to my recent Girls Who Drink Beer Rule posting, I certainly wasn't about to let an event like the Smokin Cherry Bomb Saison cask at Clive's Classic slip past. The Missus and I bounded in there around 6ish.

Now, I know Ian will probably disagree with me on this, the cantankerous bastard, but I was a trifle let-down by this brew. Mrs. Damnbeerblogger didn't even finish hers, and she quite ruined it for the rest of the table by mentioning band-aids, which made every mouthful taste like Flinstone's sticking plasters. Of course, then it warmed up a little and you could navigate your way through the smoke to the more interesting flavours, but I warn you, smoked beers are not going to be everyone's bag.

Still, I'm firmly planted up to my withers in the "Any new beer is a good beer" camp, and recognizing that you should never take advice on Saisons from me, as I'm not a fan of the whole tulip-glassed fiddle-faddle, I think the consensus was, "Interesting, but not for everyone." Certainly I would be first in line to taste another collaborative brew from these fine ladies, assuming that I haven't been beaten to death by a pink wellie for saying something inappropriate.

Anyhoo, off to Veneto's for some duck poutine.

Some more poutine, should say. Any time Dave is in the vicinity, poutine happens. And I'm fine with that. As a side note, he's the worst restaurant companion ever if you don't like poutine, as that will inevitably be the only thing he's had on the menu when you ask for recommendations.

I had a Hilde on tap, Mrs. Damnbeerblogger had this.

It's half-and-half White Bark and Nut Brown, and we alternately called it the Brown Bark or the Nut Tree. It actually wasn't half-bad, although the purists out there have probably self-combusted into the squeaky froth-mouthed rage of a pug savaging a tube of toothpaste.

I like that the Wifelet is always mixing beers and being experimental. Too often, the brewing community gets up their own lower-intestinal-tract a bit. Beer is fun! Beer is mixing things together and seeing what happens! Sometimes you get band-aids, sometimes you get Belle Royale.

How Drinking Howe Sound Brewing's King Heffy Helped the Canucks Win.

It's just that good.

Girls Who Drink Beer Rule. The End.

There are a number of reasons that I fell in love with and married my wife. Chief among them, she'd have me.

But there's more than just this bizarre blind spot to an otherwise entirely intelligent person. Wifelet is funny, brilliant, musical, highly-organized, sensitive, sweet-natured, cute, athletic, environmentally-conscious and smart. I'm just ginger. She smells good, she learned to drive stick so we wouldn't have to buy a boring automatic-transmission when we downsized to one vehicle, and guess what? She drinks beer.

One evening last week, I was sitting here surfing the internet randomly and looked up when she said, "Oh wow, this is really interesting!"

"What's that?"

"This Singularity I bought."

*Swoon*

There are many things that make a woman attractive to me. Firstly, yoga pants. Sweet baby Jeebus, Chip Wilson may have turned out to be a heartless business-person who sold out as fast as he could, but that man single-handedly accomplished the greatest leg-related service to mankind since that one guy cured polio.

More important than that though, is a woman who's real. Women who drink craft beer aren't your high-maintenance, gold-diggin', big-lipped white-wine-spritzer-sippin' botoxers. They're also not your bubble-headed Smirnoff cooler types. The ladies of craft beer aren't chicks, broads, or dames: they're women, and they're sexy as Hell.

So what do you bring home when your lady is more about stouts than fur stoles? Why, chocolate of course.

This is Southern Tier's Choklat Imperial Stout, and it's immense. It's also not just for me, it's for the Wifelet too. She likes beers a little different from my usual hop-heavy Super-IPAs. This one's no wimp though: 11% ABV and pure chocolate. The pairing? A Marks&Sparks almond shortbread biscuit. Unbelievable.

Oh, and if you're wondering, this brew is only available at The Strath. Follow Lon on twitter, he's got great selection.

It's my opinion that the success of CAMRA-YVR is due in no small part to the number of double-X chromosomes on the executive. Clive's boasts an all-female-brewer collaborative brew, Smokin' Cherry Bomb Saison, coming up on the 28th of this month. Hit up any craft-beer location and you'll see just as many women as bearded hipsters. It's just more proof that it's a great time to be a craft beer enthusiast in BC.

Another Damn Earth Day

Save the Earth. It's the only planet with beer.

Today is Earth day, a time when you're supposed to show your sensitivity to Mother Gaia by possibly not taking the Hummer to KFC until tomorrow. It's a time to think globally by acting locally, cut down on your greenhouse gas emissions and use organic Viagra instead of powdered Sumatran orang-utan scrotum.

I did my part. First, I left the car at home when I went grocery shopping. Secondly, I bought a nice organic Berkshire roast from a local farm, rather than lamb flown all the way from New Zealand. Thirdly, I passed a cow and, remembering that 14% of all greenhouse gas emissions come from methane-producing bovines, I punched it in its stupid, Earth-hating face.

Okay PETA-types, calm down, I didn't hurt Daisy one bit. But I did lock gazes with her and give her a really dirty look, which was bloody hard, what with cows not having stereoscopic vision. Gave me a headache.

Then, judging that I'd accomplished a suitable level of self-righteous do-goodery, I went and had a beer.

Unlike my other passion, the horseless motor-carriage, it is possible to enjoy a beer on Earth Day and feel completely guiltless for doing so. Unless you're a neurosurgeon or something. Beer, or at least good beer, is always made from all-natural products, and unless you're quaffing something with Papaya blended into it, almost all the ingredients can be sourced locally.

Organic beer? Well, that's nice, if you can get it, but USDA Organic certification is a bit of a con if you ask me. I'd rather have BC-grown carrots out of somebody's farm than Organic-certified produce flown up from California. First Local, then Organic, and then if you can't get any of that, the stuff that glows in the dark and tastes of bisphenol A.

I can think of no better paragon of locally-sourced, Earth Friendly brewing practices than Driftwood Brewing's Cuvee D'Hiver, which I enjoyed at Tres Fantastico. The restaurant/bistro/cafe was a short 10-minute bike-ride, the brewery's local (3 km away), and all the barley that went into the beer was grown and malted locally on the Saanich Peninsula.

Tres Fantastico is a great little place: you can read my Yelp review here. The beers were served at cellar temp, which opened up the fruity, grassy nature of the brew. Pairing was a very reasonable and delicious local charcuterie plate, but what really made the D'Hiver work this time was the gorgeous sunny day.

Last time I had the D'Hiver, it was a battleship-grey day with curtains of freezing rain sweeping across a sullen landscape of brown and browner. The effervescent, light and summery nature of the Saison seemed somehow out-of-place, like a a Viking in a sun-dress. Today though, Mother Nature smiled on my efforts to stop repeatedly pillaging her by rewarding me (and all #yyj peeps) with a sun-drenched hint of summer to come. Suddenly, the Viking was some flouncy Scandinavian princess, and the pigtails started making much more sense. What the hell am I talking about again? Oh right, beer.

Driftwood Brewing's Cuvee D'Hiver

Recommended if:

-Sexy Viking

-It's a summery day out

-You like a milder saison

Not Recommended if:

-Shave your legs, Snorri

-You want Deckhand-sized intensity

-It's raining. But then, it's Victoria after all. Just wait 5 minutes.