Four For Fall

Hofstettner bier

Granittbock

2010

2010

A very good year.

Or was it? I can’t remember.

Obama’s first term was yet to be upset

by the midterms (we hope history doesn’t repeat)*

But it rhymes—

the bitter fruit of other times

syrupy malt of a bygone age

yields ultimately to the faint hops

faded from a self-assured European Union

untouched by Greek bank collapse,

Brexit, or the resurgence of ethnic nationalism.

But the beer, man! How does it taste?

- Oh, I thought I’d told you that. You want to try some? When I’m good and ready…now to compare it to a Trappist ale that had been sitting around growing flat and separating sediment, cut with pure blue water from the Danube would be a cop-out, but it wouldn’t be entirely groundless.

Oddly enough, as I haven’t smoked since before the pandemic and never crave one, this beer would, I think, go well with a cigarette.

Hard as granite

Yet easy to drink

What more can I say?

I’ll shut my mouth now 

(except to drink 

the very last sip)

* remember I wrote this back in September 

Allgäuer Büble Festbier

The moment the cap is off the bottle, the warm aroma of malt caresses nostrils that flare in anticipation: confirmed by that caramel sweetness and crisp effervescing hops extract. Finish, dark and smooth; resplendent on a late afternoon in October glowing orange with Indian Summer, another season, another year trickling down the old gullet, fully sated by the gifts of Ceres.

The packaging is quite charming: a Bavarian boy, holding an overflowing stein as big as his torso. An idyllic childhood if I may say so.

Paulaner Salvator

Have I spoken before [I can’t speak (highly) enough] of Paulaner München’s Salvator? But if so; after all: a doppel bock deserves a double-review—and I have been thinking about drinking a (OK, 4 or 5) bottle for some time now; but as fortune would have it, all the Festbieren rollen out since September have diverted me, on those trips to Inman Square Wine & Spirits made less frequent by my aging knees: the need to lessen the load upon them, and the frequent intake of Advil with which I no longer seek to combine excessive alcohol consumption (even if my liver should prove more enduring than Prometheus’, in the final [chemical] analysis.)

What! are you waiting for me to describe the bouquet of European hops, the malt perfected as long as my people were in Egypt Land, the taste of this thick ambrosia! but go buy a six-pack, and pour some on the sidewalk—to the philosopher who taught you how to lift your elbow! 

Zero Gravity Powersuit India Pale Ale

I headed to the store in the mood for a hoppy IPA after listening to The Doors, for a change from all the fantastic German beer; something with a medium alcohol content that wouldn’t break the bank. Zero Gravity’s Powersuit fulfilled these requirements, at $13 and change with 6.3% abv—but most importantly the Ultraman knockoff character on the label—that was the clincher, and both the guys in front of me in line, and the employee filling the fridge shared my amazement that they were straight ripping off the great Japanese superhero. I loved Ultraman when I was a kid—of course the action figures in the US were limited, but my Japanese friend had a whole host of Japanese figures with wildly different suits—and of course my favorite rapper Kool Keith is an even bigger Ultraman nut than me.

Now, getting down to business…the “tropical hop trifecta of flavor!” promised under the hero’s boots—pale and crisp, reminiscent of pineapple (the fruit as well as the cannabis strain) but with more linalool, and sharp aftertaste of pinene—therefor relaxing, earthy, and a source of nourishment rather than the bitter poison too many metal cans of hip, overpriced craft beer offer.

Good to the last drop!