I’ve been making some pale ales to contrast the brown, this one created when I thought that Spring would show up soon…

It’s a Sorachi Ace pale; nose is faint but pleasant, with a soft grassy quality that has an undercurrent of grain to it. The head lasts pretty long too: half way through the beer and there is still plenty of foam on the top.

The flavor is pretty solid; a fine element of malt in there but this finish….
It is bone dry. I don’t know exactly how I did this. It’s so dry, it leaves a feeling in my mouth like I’ve touched a 9 volt with my tongue.
It’s pretty good though, easy to drink and not heavy at all.
I just wish it had been a little warmer out when I was drinking it.

Brew date: 3.19.17

Steeping grains
4 lb Munich
3 lb Maris Otter
1 lb 6 Row

Fermentables: 4 lb ExLME

3/4 oz Mosaic @ 60
1/2 oz Sorachi Ace @ 60
1/2 oz Sorachi Ace @ 5
1/4 oz Mosaic @ 5

Yeast: Imperial’s Dieter

OG: 1.072

FG: 1.018

2ndary on 3/30, 1 oz Sorachi Ace added

Bottle 4/2

ABV: 7.3%

Respite 43\Second Pint IRC

35307654540_71ffc91cf4_cI came to Bailey’s after serving the closing shift at the Portland Craft Beer fest and I deserved a beer. Sat down on the rail and ordered what looked like the most interesting thing: Buoy‘s Foraged for Thought, a North Coast Gruit with honey, cranberries and rose hips.

After a long day at the craft beer fest serving, this is about dead on. Crisp, fruity, a bit tart; this beer is a hell of an argument for these weirdo kinds of styles.

I had this whole spiel, “Happy birthday, America, it’s a great republic, if you can keep it, however we manage to struggle right now” going. You know. Old man rants.

Which leads us to; How DO we keep struggling? Especially without heading down a path of “Just burn it all down!” As if that helps.

In hour three of my serving shift-it’s late in the day, the drunks are getting cocky, my knees vocally unhappy, and for two hours I had to listen to a loop of music that included “I think we’re alone now“. Twice. I swear that has got to be a crime against the innocent. Or at least against me.

A DJ took over and people were starting to dance, which is always a crowd lightening event. It’s a little amazing how that works; people dancing equals a bit of joy

Two women nearby were really getting into Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” and another woman, asking for a glass of wheat beer from me, said “How do I get to their level?”

For once I listened to the first thing that came into my head.

“I think you just decide to dance.”

Metaphor, baby.

Today’s second pint goes to the International Rescue Committee.