Saturday, December 21, 2013

the horned one

Like the Horned God and the Green Man together
 That threatening deer head was what really caught my attention, I guess.  Then, it's a super IPA - Madness IPA - which my taste is stuck on at the moment.  The bottle makes the beer appear deceptively dark; when poured, it's a light golden yellow, with abundant head.  The flowery-citrus smell comes off the beer even as it's being poured into the glass.  The taste matches up with the scent perfectly.  The IPA bitter overlays the citrus sweet, but there are hints of it at the first moment and in a slow-rising aftertaste.  Topping up the glass results in a fresh deposit of foam.  It reminds me a little of lemon jello covered with whipped cream.  I'd much rather have the beer.  Lemon jello, yech! 
Much tastier indeed

Saturday, December 14, 2013

a tale of birds

A-woosh went the wind in the trees and all the covered heads looked up.  The birds held tight and weren't blown off, but some feathers made slinky trails to the dirt below.  One of them landed near the worn shoes of the weaver woman as she trudged through the trees with her bundle of reeds.  She didn't notice the feather, but soon she began to notice that she wasn't alone in the woods; voices were in the wind, getting louder and clearer.  She looked around, but spied no-one, no clothing catching the beams of sunlight, no footsteps crushing twigs on the forest floor.  She stood awhile, listening, wondering if it was the Time of Spirits already.  But could the year go so fast?  They hadn't even begun to harvest.  She cocked her head and listened as closely as her old ears would allow.  The voices were in the air alright, drifting down from above.  But there was nothing to be seen in the branches but...the birds.  Could it be?  The weaver woman tried to pay more attention to make sure.

"I tell you it's true," chirped a sparrow, "I saw the army preparing myself.  The horses are dressed and the banners are hung."

"But after so many quiet years?  Why stir themselves now?  I thought the blanketed ones would stay in the balance they have reached.  Everything is better for everyone on a balance."

"You forget," chirred a dove, "The blanketed do not seek balance as others do.  In fact, they may even seek to destroy it where it exists."

"You tell a tale," huffed the sparrow, "No-one in there right minds seeks to destroy a balance, only create and make steady."

"I tell no tale," retorted the dove, "And I think you know nothing of the blanketed.  All my kin tell me how they cause trouble every number of seasons."

A tiny wren piped up, "Yes, not all of them seem to believe in the balance.  I hear many complaints in the fields.  The field blanketed feel unfairly used.  They plot and mutter.  They fill the white blanketed with fear."

"What complaints should they have?" asked the sparrow, "If they are not for the task, they can leave it.  It is what we all do."

"Indeed, you know the blanketed little," nodded the dove sagely, "They are not like us.  They have many complicated rituals to fill their lives.  These rituals must be done continuously even when none of their number wants to do them.  Their flock would be otherwise extinguished."

"Perhaps better for us all that it were," muttered the sparrow, hopping on the branch in agitation.

"My opinion of the blanketed ones is somewhat warmer than yours, I think," spoke a crow, in a surprisingly smooth voice, "I and my kin benefit greatly from their labor and inattention.  Still, when they fight, it goes no worse for me when all is said and done, nor for our cousins, the bald ones."

"Blech!  Don't mention those stinkers to me!" warbled the dove haughtily.  The impending fight was interrupted by a bird of bright red feather, who was rarely seen in that forest.  It landed clumsily on the branch near the crow and the others stared at it with curiosity.

"How goes, cousins," the new bird piped out, "I trust you do not mind if I rest a short while.  I may give you just warning of things to come."

"What things do you speak of?" asked the crow, voice now scratchy with suspicion.

"I fly before flames, cousins, my home is burnt.  The blanketed armies have done it to discover their enemies among the trees.  The wolf told us it would be so, and we were ready to take wing for our lives."

"Ah, that trickster.  How did he know of it?"

"I cannot say, but I can guess he had a wing in creating the confrontation.  There were indeed blanketed enemies in our woods.  We heard them talk of justice and freedom.  We heard them name the wolf as they do, calling him 'Uncle'."

"Ha!" spat the crow, "They just would claim a kinship with him!"

"In the woods they shouted to each other," continued the red bird, "Calling words like crime and oppression.  They said the wolf opened their eyes to the unfairness of their lives.  Now they will make right and fair, in spite of any one of their own."

"What's this talk of fair?" grumbled the sparrow, "Only the balance matters.  If it seems unfair, your eyes must deceive you, for the balance does not allow that."

"Now, now," mused the crow, "I have observed them all my life, and I can tell you, sometimes they create a balance where there is none to fool their fellows.  It is an unbalance that eventually tips under its own weight."

"Do they not foresee this?" sniffed the sparrow, ruffling its earthy feathers, "Can they not simply live in balance?  It seems to me their whole existence is spent upsetting it, for themselves and for all others."

"Balance is not happiness, I think," continued the crow, "And you know we are rarely happy, as the blanketed are.  They must require stronger emotion, and in balance, the happiness is countered by unhappiness.  Then they fight."

"I have seen and heard the enemy of the white up close," said the red bird, off-hand, "And I begin to wonder if they do not have some clear sight.  The white ones take from them the largest part of the rewards of their toil, and what's more, they prevent the field blanketed from increasing their own reward.  I see them all unblanketed at the river, cleansing their hides.  They are the same.  They have no marks or signs to designate some fated chore.  There is no balance to their flock, where only a few have unceasing control over the many.  The tipping is inescapable."

"How you go on!" scoffed the sparrow, "The politics of their flock is none of our concern!  Only their destruction."

"Cousins, I believe the time has come for my parting," announced the red bird, stretching flame colored wings and taking off.

"How abrupt," mumbled the dove, staring off after the traveler.

"How absurd," muttered the weaver woman, retaking her walk home.  "What could those feather-brains ever tell us about our own affairs?" And she went on her way, forgetting all about the chatter of the birds, until the soldiers knocked on her door.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

some seasonal color

It felt like time for red ale, being the season and all.  Something Belgian looks promising.  Ichtegem's Gran Cru has an interesting sweet and sour smell once opened.  The color is nice and ruddy and just a bit of head remains on top after a minute or two.  The first thing to hit me when tasting is the sweetness, surprisingly strong, but quickly replaced with a fuller, almost woody flavor.  In the past, woodiness has not helped a beer gain my esteem, but it's very subtle in Gran Cru and gives the beer some complexity while balancing out the sweet.  It reminds me of many fruit beers those Belgians like to mess around with, but less syrupy than many, with a sharper, more refreshing taste.


Sunday, December 1, 2013

what, again?? (w/ pics)

Yeah, yeah, finally getting around to posting impressions of the second day of the Beer Fair.  I went in the afternoon, thinking that most people would still be at work on a Monday, and indeed it was quite quiet at first.  I took the opportunity to go all the way to the back, since the day before it had been exceedingly difficult to squeeze down there. 

I found Birra y Paz looking a little lonely, although there were people sitting on the benches with their glasses in calm conversation.  The star promotion is a beer made with sea water.  The idea might make some people hesitate to try it, but it's actually a very normal tasting brew, with just a little bit of bite that surrounds the tongue.  It is, of course, filtered water, so no algae, but the mineral content is intact according to the rep.  It's more mineral than salt, kind of like a lot of mineral waters.  It's very easy to drink, possibly "dangerous".  The other offering was Socorrada, a triple malt with rosemary and rosemary honey.  Definitely a little more kick in the taste, very herbal, something of menthol in it for me.  In spite of the honey, it's not a sweet beer, the spice is much more perceptible.  Drinking the two together really accentuated the differences for me without diminishing any of their characteristics.  The rep insisted they were the first company to brew with sea water and rosemary honey, and that they had been shopping the product in the US, Mexico and ... Guinea.  Ok, then.

Socorrada on the left, sea water on the right, doing some teamwork
Moving towards the front, we had Mammooth of Granada.  I remembered the name from the first fair, and had tried their dark at the time, although it wasn't terribly memorable.  This time I went for the stout, which was as characteristic of its kind as could be: rich, black color with a dirty beige head and smoky and earthy in taste.  It might also be one of those dangerous beers, since it gets smoother and smoother with every sip.  Might be the reason for the name: Hecate.  The rep insisted on speaking some English with me, guess he's gotta practice, and since I was hanging around anyway, I got a bit of the other tap.  It's called Fósil, if I'm not mistaken, a blond beer, lemonade yellow with a heavy floral scent, and very foamy.  It also contains rosemary, but not rosemary honey!  It called to mind FM's Valverde, something summery and spicy, light and energetic for a warm evening.  While I was there, the rep didn't charge the tasters for their beers, so I have to give an A+ for the friendly and welcoming attitude.  And those beers, definitely memorable this time around.
Almost forgot the picture...

Up at the front, I found Dawat, and was convinced to try their special fair pilsner.  It's a 10º beer that they don't plan to put into real production, it was more of a gimmick for the moment.  Normally they have a lighter 5º and are brewing up a 17º for the near future.  The reps explained that pilsner is one of the most difficult beers to make and isn't profitable by itself.  The alcohol content is their something special on the market.  The fair pilsner was a translucent tan, slightly bubbly and a bit sweet.  The sweetness became almost a bubblegum taste, although after a while there was also a certain smokiness underneath it.  On the whole, Spanish pilsners just aren't my glass of beer, so to speak.

While mildly disappointed by Ebora the day before, this time they were serving their Christmas (or Navidad) special, so I gave them another chance.  The beer is just a bit fruity with a very light, fizzy head, and a sort of caramely color.  It's not as heavy as I might expect a Christmas drink to be, but it has some sweet candiness.  Maybe a little too sugary after a while, but the lightness keeps it from getting syrupy.  Ebora redeemed by Christmas magic.

I was about to leave, but decided to take one last look before the place filled up.  The afterwork crowd was arriving by that time, and it was getting busier.  I found Tyris in the corner, with another pils.  The rep insisted on just giving me the tasting, since the keg was almost empty.  I suppose that accounts for much of the generosity of the reps: they didn't want to carry back a lot of not-quite-empty kegs after the fair was over.  This was really a nice ending to my fair experience: very citrusy smell, very snappy taste, again with a bright, lemonade color.  Very refreshing with herbs and citrus pith.  There's something a little dirty in the smell, but it's a respectable dirt, the dirt of hard work and fun, kind of like a locker room, and the taste is clean as can be.
The last hurrah of the fair

If I haven't misread the trend, I'll be back to this in May for the summer releases.