The Fifth Beer of Christmas

On the fifth day of Christmas my trusty assistant brought to me a St. Bernardus Christmas Ale;
Left Hand Polestar;
Shiner Holiday Cheer;
Great Lakes Christmas Ale;
and a Sierra Nevada DevESTATEtion.

Almost half way through the 12 Beers of Christmas with just over 24 hours until Christmas Day. Clearly things are getting lazy because the picture cuts off the top of the bottle. The backup picture cuts off the entire right half of the bottle - and both pictures were taken before I started drinking. On to the beer...

This beer is almost made in Trappist Monasteries. St. Bernardus Christmas Ale is made in what was once a cheese factory known as "Refuge Notre Dame de St. Bernard" in Belgium. For a time, the Trappist brews were licensed to the owners of what is now St. Bernardus. Sadly, for us, the monks ended their experiment in commercialization and returned to their roots of brewing only for themselves and a few local pubs. Clearly these monks are not familiar with the roots of American commercialization (and greed).

Sint Bernardus - Watou left us with a very nice almost Trappist replacement. The aroma is sweet but it's just a setup. The taste is distinctly Belgian but not so sweet that it overpowers the beer. It does have a spicy tang with a molasses feel that really suits the holiday season. The dark, chestnut brown color just feels cozy. It's like drinking an ugly Christmas sweater (which is a compliment since these sweaters are apparently fashionable now).

Fourth Beer of Christmas

On the fourth day of Christmas my trusty assistant brought to me a Left Hand Polestar;
Shiner Holiday Cheer;
Great Lakes Christmas Ale;
and a Sierra Nevada DevESTATEtion.

The real gift on this fourth day of Christmas is a new HVAC. What started out as a leaking humidifier quickly turned into a cracked heat element. I actually didn't think much of it. Here is the exchange with the repair man while showing me the cracked element on his fancy scope camera:

RM: You have a cracked heating element. See it right there?

Me: Oh yeah, this thing has run like a champ as long as we've been here. Guess I'll have to replace it in the next couple of years.

RM: I don't think you understand. I can't, by law, turn this system back on.

Me: Um, excuse me?

Maybe it's the new found poverty. Maybe it's the even warmth created by the new and improved, high-efficiency, heating system in my basement. Regardless, this Polestar is going down smooth tonight. That's saying something because during the dark, winter months I shy away from pilsners. Stouts and porters, preferably with a hint of chocolate and coffee, from now until spring is how I roll.

Polestar is well carbonated and is a little dry. It's light bodied so you can drink several (and I plan to this evening) without getting that "I feel full" sensation half way through the second round. There is a bit of spice but I get more from the hops. Also, this beer goes great with pretzels.

Third Beer of Christmas

On the third day of Christmas my trusty assistant brought to me a Shiner Holiday Cheer;
Great Lakes Christmas Ale;
and a Sierra Nevada DevESTATEtion.

There are two things I like about Texas: ZZ Top and Shiner beer (three if you include the scenes from Pee Wee's Big Adventure). Shiner Bock is a classic and not available in upstate New York...but then what to my wondering eyes should appear but the tale tell yellow of Shiner's good beer. 

Holiday Cheer is a dunkelweizen; which I believe to be German for "holiday beer". It's a malty and fruity brew that would seem out of place any other time of the year. Heck, even the color is of roasted chestnuts fresh off the open fire. You probably will not drink several in one night - a sixer is just about right for the season. Of course, you will need more if your sharing with friends; it is the holiday season after all.

Second Beer of Christmas

On the second day of Christmas my trusty assistant brought to me a Great Lakes Christmas Ale
and a Sierra Nevada DevESTATEtion.

I don't wait for a lot of beers. Like most simple people, I like a lighter beer during the warm months and a darker beer during the cold. The Great Lakes Christmas Ale is one of the few specific brews I look forward to each year. The trouble is this beer always seems to be on a short run and it ain't exactly cheap; even for a limited release. So, I restrict myself to one sixer each season.

As you can tell from the image above I drank five before the yule log could get warm. Number six needs to last. I'm going to savor this one. Merry Christmas (Ale).

The Return of the 12 Beers of Christmas

Today we bring back the 12 Beers of Christmas. If last year's list is any indicator we'll get through at least five brews. Regardless, we'll be piss drunk by Christmas Eve and passed out under the tree for the kiddies by morning; preferably wearing nothing but a pink bow. With that image stuck in your head...

On the first day of Christmas my trusty assistant brought for me Sierra Nevada's DevESTATEtion.

Purists are not fans of mixing styles. Hands down the best part of craft beer in America is that we'll make any style beer and fuck you. Black IPAs are the premier reason for mixing styles. They're dark, a little malty, a little hoppy, and bitter.

DevESTATEtion is uses organic malt and estate-grown hops; that makes it healthier than your average craft beer. The real beauty of this beer is that it's smooth going down with a bitter finish. It's dark with a malty, caramel head but the aroma is all hops. A beer that slants towards bitter is better suited to Christmas Eve while dealing with relatives you see semi-annually. It's also good for kicking off a half-assed list - on a Monday. Anyway, here's a picture:

We have only a couple of holiday ales in stock so it's off to the beer store or this series is going nowhere.

Sell Out vs Co-Branding

collar & cuffs are white; that's money

One great thing about craft beer is the collaboration. It's rare to see an industry where most of the competitors are also brothers in arms. That collaboration often means co-marketing and, to a lesser degree, co-branding. Drinking Brewery Ommegang's Take the Black Stout inspired us to ask: "when a craft brewer co-brands with big names is it brilliant marketing or selling out?"

We here at Dumbarton's Beer contacted old friend Donny Deutsche, one of America's foremost marketing executives, to ask what one should consider before entering into a co-branding arrangement. I can't talk about this shit. I work for the government; what the hell do I know about marketing? Anyway, some things to consider...

Co-branding fits both brands. I'll be honest, I couldn't even get through the plot summary for Game of Thrones but the images online and on the bottle are how I imagine Cooperstown to look in late August. Seriously, imagine the Ommegang Brewery is the capital of Thrones-ville surrounded by peasants, lots of fields, and a moat. Men with swords, bows and arrows fighting over maidens and speaking in bad Olde English. Also, there's a baseball game at high noon - no gloves allowed.

The quality of the products. You absolutely cannot water down your product (pun intended) in the name of marketing. This is probably more important for the beer than the books/movies. I'm sitting here drinking "Take Black Stout" so I can verify the quality of the beer. It's up to Ommegang standards.

Most importantly, co-branding sells both brands. Game of Thrones is probably going to make some money. The question is are these partners dancing in step or is somebody playing lead? It needs to be clear that both are going to increase sales because of this partnership. Game of Thrones on the label probably helps sell Ommegang and hopefully it goes both ways. However, I'm not convinced that Ommegang is going to inspire craft brew geeks to get into the series.

Literally A Stupid Debate

Literally Brewing Co?

The e-world was abuzz this week over the definition of one word. Check it out here, here, or here. That word is literally. Words get used, misused, and abused all the time. Why do we care about the use of literally? I have no idea and wonder where this backlash was while we killed epic. Then again, this is the Internet.

Per the experts, literally means "(1) in a literal sense or manner: actually ; (2) in effect: virtually ".

I literally think this debate is a waste of time but thought I would share a list of things I literally cannot do without a beer in my hand.

Grilling. I have a Weber charcoal grill. No wussy gas barbecue for me. There is something manly about standing over fire and burning meat with a cold beer.

Mowing the Lawn. Living the almost-rural lifestyle means having grass - and a lot of it. You spend a precious weekend day cutting 1.5 acres of grass and a beer is mighty refreshing. Sometimes while on the riding mower, sometimes as a break, sometimes celebrating a job well done. Regardless, a beer in hand beats two in the brush.

Eating Pizza. I once had a friend and colleague who got sick. The kind of sick that transforms, and ultimately takes, your life. While discussing his drug regimen he said thing he missed the most was having a nice cold beer with pizza. I almost never miss an opportunity to have a beer with pizza. Lesson learned, Scooter.

Watching (or talking about) Sports. Just like everybody else.

Writing Blogging. My high school and/or elementary school educators would be ashamed to admit I was on their class roster after reading this waste of space but chances are I'm drinking a beer while I'm at it.

Sex. Just kidding, honey; but definitely while checking my iphone.

Required Reading for Wet (and Dry) Political Scientists

History. Politics. Illicit booze. Daniel Okrent may have written Last Call: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition (paperback) just for me. Mr. Okrent brilliantly weaves history, culture, politics with wit, intelligence, and humor to provide the definitive tome on Prohibition.* The book starts in the pre-prohibition era covering just how awash in booze the country was in the early 20th century. The story gets particularly interesting when the dry movement starts gathering momentum. The various stakeholders that come together to get the 18th amendment passed is almost mind boggling - drys, women suffragists, immigration opponents (yep, we've hated immigrants almost from the beginning), creation of the income tax and even the Klan. Overturning 18 was not quite as politically riveting but is a good story nonetheless; particularly given how insurmountable that mountain appeared. There were indeed opponents to the 21st amendment, not the least of which were the gangs and bootleggers enjoying a tax free, unregulated enterprise.

More than anything the book is a lesson in political achievement led by one Wayne B. Wheeler. Today we have Karl Rove. Karl Rove is no Wayne Wheeler. The defacto leader of the Anti-Saloon League (ASL), Mr. Wheeler was a master of the political process. Last Call goes to great lengths to show how Mr. Wheeler effectively controlled Congress in the realm of liquor. He was adept at knowing where the ASL should put its support and what issues were not worth fighting. Through Wheeler, the ASL supported candidates who supported Prohibition. The ASL was allied with other groups that supported the Prohibition cause. Wheeler, and the ASL, focused on one agenda and made no judgement of candidates with views on other social, political, or moral issues. Because of his political acuity, the ASL stayed away from some debates after passage of the Volstead act. For example, Wheeler wisely stayed away from the debate about funding federal enforcement of Prohibition. From the book: "Wheeler, familiar as he was with every hillcock and valley on the political landscape, had early on recognized the prevailing resistance to government spending. Wheeler told Morris Sheppard that five million dollars would be a sufficient appropriation for all federal enforcement of Prohibition (by way of comparison, the sum wouldn't even have covered the payroll of Columbia University that year)."

Western New Yorkers should have an interest if only to learn more about John J. Raskob. Mr. Raskob was born in Lockport, NY and played an integral part in overturning the 18th amendment. Raskob worked for Pierre du Pont first at General Motors. He was a major player in politics serving as chairman of the Democratic National Committee. Mr. Raskob's more impressive work in repealing Prohibition would make anybody from the greater Buffalo-Niagara area proud. Oh, he also apparently sold his GM stock to build the Empire State Building and penned the obviously titled article "Everybody Ought to be Rich".

Last Call should also encourage locals to learn more about the area's role during the 13 dry years of Prohibition. The book references massive deaths from wood alcohol originating in Buffalo. Further, Mr. Okrent spends many pages discussing the important relationship between Canada and Detroit, MI in getting illicit liquor into the country and distributing it across the Midwest. In fact, the booze flowed freely from various maple leaf points into the states. One can't help but wonder about Buffalo's role given it's own proximity to the border - there's your next book Mr. Okrent.

So, there you have it. Politics, history, local boy makes good, and booze. Read this book; with a cold beer close by.

*Strictly the opinion of the author who is not an historian or even really sure what a tome is.

Home Sweet Home

I had this great rant going on the bankruptcy of Detroit but then I got distracted by...

The house was created by John Milkovisch in Houston, TX. It's currently owned by local nonprofit Orange Show Center for Visionary Art. Nice little read here and, if you're in the area, drop by for a visit at 222 Malone Street.

Membership Has Its Privileges

Signed the family up this weekend. Closest we'll ever get to a country club.

...and there is no need to feel down.

Rust Belt Porn

The grain elevator hearkens back to the glory days of Buffalo, NY. The opening of the Erie Canal in 1825 made Buffalo the first gateway to the (mid) west. Grain was one of the premier products shipped through Buffalo and as use of the Erie Canal expanded so did the need for grain storage. Enter Joseph Dart. Mr. Dart invented the first grain elevator and built it in Buffalo. The grain elevator changed everything by unloading grain by something other than the backs of men. Everything you could want to know about grain elevators can be found here.

Today, things are different. Only a few grain elevators remain. This past weekend we got a close up look at a few of the towering structures and the pictures are worth sharing. Up close, these elevators are monstrous. We took a brief self-guided tour through one of the smaller brick buildings. It was creepy and romantic at the same time. Walking through the structure you can feel just how busy it once was. Whatever comes of these buildings, and the pieces within, they must be preserved.

Grain elevators in Buffalo, NY

Self-guided tour.
Pics below were inside this structure.

Nearby elevator.

h/t The Buffalo History Works

Running into an Old Friend: Sierra Nevada

Rye is the worst. Nobody worth his salt ever has a sandwich made of rye bread. When you go to a fancy restaurant and they offer a selection of breads which one is always left on the table? Rye. Sure, Martin van der Griten will tell you it's "a hardy grain, more tolerant of frost and drought than is wheat. It is the most winter hardy of all cereals." Nobody eats rye cereal, do they? Rye is used to make animal feed, flour, and...beer.

Tonight, I'm sipping on a Sierra Nevada Ruthless Rye IPA. There's a parallel between rye and Sierra Nevada. Craft beer snobs, of which I am one, are always looking for something new. Preferably something small, niche, hard to find. Same thing with rye. I don't have scientific data to back me up but it's safe to assume it's not the first choice of most bakers.

The point is that I'm regularly scouting grocery stores, beverage stores, craft beer stores, along with pubs and restaurants looking for something  new. Virtually every one of which offers Sierra Nevada. It's easy to forget they are craft brewers. It's also easy to forget they make damn fine beer. Prior to this evening, I can't say when I last had a Sierra Nevada. In the early days they were one of my favorites. The same can be said for brewers like Dogfish Head and even Troegs. Shame on me for letting so much time pass.

So, here's to you Sierra Nevada and all the other craft beer trail blazers who get unnecessary shit from beer snobs (aka idiots) like me. Now, off to renew some old friendships.


C'mon, you were thinking it.

Pig Burger - Everybody Wants Some

Somebody purchased this for my kids:

Which, of course, made me think of this:

Labels = Art

If these don't make you thirsty then you need help.

Bad Cholo Brewery - Los Angeles, CA

Bells Brewery - Comstock, MI

Founders Brewing Company - Grand Rapids, MI

Thirsty Dog Brewing Company - Akron, OH

This is My Wife

If somebody tells you that 36 hours from now Angelina Jolie is going to temporarily flip your world upside down would you believe them? I wouldn't but that's what happened to my family. Yesterday morning the world awoke to find that Ms. Jolie underwent a double mastectomy. As sometimes happens the local media jumped to find ways of bringing a national story home.

Not everybody knows this but approximately six weeks ago my wife, Madeleine, underwent a double mastectomy at the Roswell Park Cancer Institute. Somebody from Roswell got a hold of my wife's story and she spent the better part of yesterday and this morning making the rounds on local media. It's worth noting because women are making this same decision every day. This is her story.

My wife broke the news to me in the summer of 2012 while we were still living in Washington, DC. It was, in a word, stressful but her OB's recommendation was clear. Double mastectomy and, for kicks, removal of both ovaries. There was a lot going on at the time so we put off the inevitable while contemplating the next phase of our life, which include relocating to Western New York. It was a little abstract but it was always there lurking in the shadows. I'm fairly certain it was attached to the U-Haul trailer.

Jump ahead to February 2013. We're sitting at Roswell meeting with the various surgeons. Shit just got real. I quickly learn how courageous my wife is to go through this for her family. It's important to note that if you have a strong family history you have options and you should investigate them all. For the few, including my wife, with the BRCA1 mutation it means statistically the best option is a double mastectomy. We (meaning my wife) reviewed all the research, considered all the options and then we consulted with the surgeons; who confirmed what we already knew. We made the decision to have the surgery primarily for the twins. Kids need their mother. I think Madeleine explains it best to the listeners of WBEN (here) and viewers of WIVB (here). What the hell - here too.

The surgery was Tuesday, March 26th. We arrived at 9:00a. Madeleine went under the knife shortly before 1:00p. I saw her next at 8:00p. Over the next two weeks, including three days in the hospital, I really understood Madeleine's strength. She took a short walk less than 24 hours after going under, was eating and sitting up shortly after, and off her pain medicine less than a week after the surgery. Then it was just clearing drains regularly, rebuilding strength, a few weeks of physical therapy and visiting nurses and we are done...with Part I.

Then it was regular filling of the expanders (you can Google it). At the end of July Madeleine begins the reconstruction process. The entire show should be over by the end of the calendar year. The twins, at the ripe old age of 3, have been remarkable through this process. The support of friends and family is immeasurable.

I am telling this story to brag. Not about my connection to Angeline Jolie or about Madeleine's 15 minutes. I am, however, bragging about my wife - her strength, her courage, her love and sacrifice for others. We are telling this story so others have a better understanding while making this important decision. Hopefully many other women are telling their stories as well. Also, F-You Cancer.

Us       - 1

Cancer - 0

An Open Letter to Would-be Terrorists and Bombers

Dear would-be terrorist:

I’m not angry. I don’t have any sense of revenge. I do have a sense of guilt for admitting this but I feel no anger or rage about the events in Boston. I’m not angry because today I have this enormous understanding that you can’t win. Despite Lord Helmet’s famous quote evil cannot triumph over good. I’m not gloating or bragging I’m merely stating fact. The events at the Boston Marathon proved it.

Nobody knows yet about motive or who did this terrible deed. My heart does ache for the people of Boston and all those enjoying one of the best local traditions this country offers (second only to Dyngus Day). Squirrel at G:TB could not have said it better - about both the marathon and the people of Boston. 

In the immediate aftermath I, like many others, was almost overwhelmed with emotion. I went through the usual process but this time was different. Yes, I did experience extreme sadness and my heart does still ache for Boston and the victims. Rage and revenge though were but a fleeting thought. What I have been feeling for the last 36 hours is a sense of calm knowing that it’s going to be alright.

You can’t win. I’m not sure what you were trying to accomplish but if the motive was reassuring the public that in times of crisis we come together to help our fellow man, then well played. Any other motive or message is being drowned out by random acts of kindness that is having a much wider impact than any bombs you can throw.

I suppose it started on September 11, 2001. In the face of death, destruction, and mayhem folks chose to help whether in NYC, Virginia or in the skies over Pennsylvania. It really crystalized for me at the Boston Marathon. Story after story across the media outlets highlighting examples shrugging off fear and horror to offer assistance and comfort. I’ve seen video footage of folks running into danger. Stories of Boston area residents offering places to stay. Restaurants offering “pay what you can”. NPR even reported a man getting his tax return at a local Jackson Hewitt offering a portion of his tax refund to the victims. That local office is in Mississippi. There are countless other stories I’m sure.

The perpetrator of Monday’s terrorist attack will be found and will pay the appropriate penalty. I’m hoping this open letter helps you understand you can’t win so you stop the senseless violence. There are countless ways of accomplishing your mission through nonviolence and kindness. I’m hoping somebody somewhere understands this country has too much resilience, too much strength, too much love. I don’t know about your motive but I know I feel much better about the human condition today. So, why not put down the bomb and pick up a craft beer and go about your business in a different way? Because you can’t win with terror and bombs.

Sincerely,
Dumbarton's Beer

I Deserve This Beer Too

In April 2012, we posited that while we prefer to think we deserve a beer most times we simply want it. For the second time in less than a full calendar year I can safely say that I deserve this beer too. Since moving the corporate headquarters to upstate New York we have purchased a home, started new day jobs, criss-crossed the state for said jobs, and survived a Buffalo winter. None of that is why I deserve this beer.

Five days prior to the start of spring classes I interviewed for, and accepted, a teaching position with the local community college. I was looking very forward to joining the faculty as a part-time Assistant Professor in late August 2013. Despite a complete lack of educational experience (read: never taught a real class) I very much looked forward to shaping the minds of tomorrow's best and brightest. In my mind's eye were intense debates on the hottest public policy issues and in depth conversations on the various forms of federalism and their impacts on the states. Me, a modern day Charlie Moore, enlightening an emerging Generation Y on the importance of the role of government.

Then it all came crashing down. The Department needed somebody to teach a class for the spring semester. Thinking "sure, I can pull this off" I foolishly accepted the challenge of pulling together a full semester class in less than a week's time with no real teaching experience to speak of. What could go wrong?

How I see myself

The night before classes started I barely slept - my subconscious already knowing this was a mistake. By the alarm clock's warning the rest of me knew this was a mistake. I had no copy of the text book (it arrived later that afternoon). A pre-arranged meeting with the Department Chair focused primarily on Scantron forms and office keys; which did nothing for my nerves. Yes, they still use Scantron forms. After locating some chalk and my mail slot it was off to the lions den where things got worse. I don't fear public speaking but this was every cliched nightmare come true. Picturing everybody in their underwear wouldn't help because I couldn't remember to picture everybody in their underwear. Hell, I couldn't remember the course title or my name. I probably wet myself a little.

Things are better today (because we are in the middle of spring break). Using a different text book than students were purchasing at the college bookstore I managed to pull together a pseudo-syllabus. I've settled into a semi-stuttering groove with the lectures. The class did have a good policy debate on gun control.

How the students see me

I deserve this beer because teaching is fucking hard. I know several teachers and never suspected it to be an easy task but it's much harder than I expected. I literally spend all of my free time preparing for class - reading, researching, pulling together lecture notes, grading tests and papers, etc. Any minimal contribution I previously made to household chores is no more. I missed the Super Bowl and rarely catch any other sporting event. I'm up late every night and I'm a terrible educator. I can't believe people do this for a living.

Frankly, I'm supposed to be pulling together the next exam right now. Instead, I'm borrowing from the private collection a New Glarus Laughing Fox. It's a good beer gifted to me by a good friend. Any educator stumbling upon this blog will surely snicker at my whining and deservedly so. I'm going to enjoy this beer and in six weeks I'll have time for another post.