yesterday marked exactly four months since my last post on this website, though it surely does not mark the last bottle of beer that i consumed, enjoyed, or loquaciously reflected with a friend. the truth is that i sometimes fear writing about beer. i fear it because i want to say so much about beer. i want to talk about the brewery, the style, the ingredients, the moment in which i enjoyed the beer. there's so much to say about beer that sometimes i'm left dumbfounded and speechless. sometimes for four months on end.
i hope this post will put the words back into my fingertips.
i've thought about this site a great deal lately. i've thought about why this site was brewed in the first place, and i've thought about the gentlemen behind these beer posts that i've loved so greatly over the years. and all this thought has led me to a conclusion about my writing on this website, and that conclusion is this: i write for these men.
in the future, my reviews will be written to the men on this site and who subscribe to this site (jason scott and clint newlan and ben langford, that includes you) as the opening lines of dialogue about beer. forget the fanciness and the smartness and the pitch perfect wonderment of language. on this beer site, we're on the porch. we're hovering over the backgammon board. willie's on the dial and there's a story to be told tonight.
welcome to the conversation.
tonight i'm sipping a sierra nevada torpedo extra ipa. this beer is a beast. it's huge. and this is the last bottle in the six pack. one went to ian c. nelson; the rest went down the hamsterian hatch. i've chatted this beer up with several friends, all to great fanfare, and the unanimous word proclaims torpedo a beautiful ale. and it is. enormous citrus hop flavors nearly burn the tongue in the initial mouthfeel, followed by resinous copper flavors in the aftertaste. i'm not even sure if i know what i'm talking about, but multiple six packs and five ales over fives days tell me i'm not too far from my own palette's version of truth.
the one caution i do feel towards torpedo is that, by the last bottle, i grow nearly offended by the enormity of this beer. in the future, i'll probably purchase a sixer of torpedo alongside a sixer of something more subtle, like a blonde or a pilsner or some God-lovely PBR. perhaps an alternating sip of this one night alongside a good mellow chocolatey porter the next would save my sensibilities. all i know is that i love this beer, but by the end of a sixer, if this is all i'm sipping, i feel nearly nauseous at the sight of the sierra nevada label.
by the way, i showed my class the film HENRY POOLE IS HERE today. (long story). at one point the camera pans back to show a wide angle of henry poole's (luke wilson) kitchen. on the bottom shelf of an open faced pantry, the observant viewer might notice a six pack of sierra nevada pale ale. i wanted to call it out to the class, to say "that's the beer that taught me to love hops!", but i said nothing. and neither did anyone else. surely, american education is doomed.
so here's to happy returns. to more words. to more reviews. to letting go of perfection in trade for conversations. and here's to stocking the fridge strategically. God knows i've only got the one tongue.