This is the house amber ale at Fitzgerald’s Pub in Manhattan, New York.
I’m in New York because an old friend got married and asked me and another buddy from Portland to be his groomsmen. I’m in Fitzgerald’s because the third groomsman, whom I hadn’t met previous to the day of the wedding, invited us to his bar the next evening.
To my surprise, the amber is made by Michelob but damnit, it’s tasty. Nice mouthfeel, just enough caramel malt to look and taste amazing and easy to drink.
“It’s 6%,” the bartender-and our host- says, a little apologetic, his Irish accent softened by years of living in New York, “so it’s a little high,” and I chuckle in response.
“We start our IPAs at 7.5 in Portland. This is great.”
I had a blur of a weekend, and 90% of it was in service to the wedding I attended.
But for just a little bit, after it was all over, I was able to make a little time to sit at the pub with some old and new friends, and have a drink.
That’s a pretty good deal.
In Portland, beards are a thing. They just are. I don’t have one-my face really doesn’t want to do the beard thing-and that’s fine. It’s a beard, not a lifestyle.
But if point 11 on this list is true well then…I’ll take my extra beer, thank you very much.
Sorry, folks; Just not quite feeling up to snuff and so I didn’t get out to write. Instead of half-assing it, I’m going to stay in and warm.
And since I’m lucky enough to have a home to stay warm in, today’s second pint goes to the National Low Income Housing Coalition.
Adidas has made beer-proof shoes.
That’s really it. Yes, it’s absurd and yes, you can accomplish the same thing with a good pair of hiking shoes and some waterproofer.
But what the heck; we can have some fun, right? Maybe not $240.00 worth. But some.
I’m on the road soon, so the next post will go up Wednesday the 13th. Cheers!
A friend sent me a link to a machine that brews beer and man, do I hate marketing speak.
I feel like owning this machine would some instantly turn me into a self-righteous asshole who has forgotten what the word ‘generosity’ means, so long as I have a beer in hand.
While I was running through the Ecliptic brewery, sliding around actual professionals who make beer for a living I saw this:
And I thought, “I have a hydrometer like that at home.”
Which brought to mind this scene from Hoosiers.
I don’t talk about it much, but I don’t consider myself to be a great brewer. I have had a lot more failure than successes, more undrinkable beers than drinkable ones. I won’t deny that I have improved: twelve years of brewing should show some improvement, damnit. I just seem to drink beers made by others that are (almost) always better than mine.
In the end though, there isn’t any magical difference between what they’re doing as professionals and what I’m doing. Skill, certainly, knowledge, more expensive tools, no question.
But it’s not magic. It’s just work.
This is Sherpa, and yesterday we had to put him down. I’d known him for 11 years and no matter what I was writing at this computer, he showed up to insist that I provide some space on my lap for him.
He was a good kitty and he will be missed by everyone who met him. He was just like that, you know?
I miss my friend and I hope he knows I love him.
We’ll get back to the beer stuff on Wednesday.