Reading this story about what is probably the most expensive pint in the world, I really hope that scientists are able to use what’s in those cans to analyze yeast and other materials to tell us more about how things have changed.
It’s a cool piece of history, no question and I’m glad they’ll be on display somewhere, too. I just am hoping that a little more will come of it.
Maybe I’m being naive though and there’s just no way to examine the cans and contents without ruining what makes them valuable. That would be unfortunate but I can certainly understand why they wouldn’t be given further examination.
You know, normally I’d avoid a hazy IPA; they’re frequently poorly balanced and nearly undrinkable. But those hazy beers are rarely made by Ruben’s and aren’t a double.
So let’s have Ruben’s Double Crush.
The nose has grapefruit, yes, but there’s also an element of pine in there too. It’s subtle but provides just enough dimension to make this beer feel more approachable and now I’m looking forward to drinking it.
The Double Crush does not disappoint; this hazy is definitely sweet, but there’s a hint of tartness and some actual bitterness on this finish to keep this beer a drinking one. An easy drinking one at that. Which might just be dangerous, depending on the ABV of this beer… which my research says is 8%.
Yeah. That’ll set you in your chair if you aren’t careful.
The second glass lets the grapefruit tartness rise up a bit, and my sips reveal a little spiciness on the finish. Definitely more interesting than the first glass let on.
We aren’t even a week into the new year and already the fears of WWIII have kicked in. Sometimes you just want to have a beer in peace: 2020 will apparently not be that year.
We live in the timeline where the dumbest, most callous, petty, greedy humans have been put in charge. So I do what I can: I try to raise the profile of the disadvantaged so they will be seen and we will do right by them.
And I tell the president to go fuck himself on Twitter. Because he can go fuck himself. And the more of us who say that, the safer all of us will be…eventually. So let’s keep talking.
Today’s second pint goes to the NW Immigrant’s Rights Project.
It’s been quite a while–probably three or so months–since I’ve been to the Brassneck, and significantly more time since I’ve sat down to have a brew. But Mr. Bottle and I had time to kill between an art show and a play, and we were in the neighbourhood, AND there were seats available.
So down we sat to have beer and sausages.
My beer was the Quibbler, a tart blonde with quince; the beer on the right was Mr. Bottle’s, the Dark Place, a barrel-aged porter with B. claussenii. After trying both, we each came to the same startling conclusion: we each liked our beers the best. Normally when we’re out, I pick for Mr. Bottle something he’d like, even if that’s the beer I’d most like to drink. I then try something a bit more experimental, and often find myself wishing I’d just ordered another pint of what he was having.
This time? Well, Mr. Bottle’s beer was a perfectly fine porter with some brett in the mix, and…this time, I wasn’t a fan. It was fine; it wasn’t for me that day.
My beer was lovely in colour, golden and opaque, with an enjoyable nose (sourness, with a bit of the fruit coming through). The mouthfeel was juicy and appealingly rich–this beer has significantly more body than you’d expect. It’s also very reminiscent of the complexity of the fruit it’s celebrating, with perfume and hints of both apple and pear. I found the back end quite dry, but in a good way.
All in all, it was a lovely way to kill an hour.