Beers of 2014

As usual, my beers of the year list highlights those I drank for the first time last year, but there are a couple here that don't meet that criterion. I'll explain when I get to them.

No ranked order this year, just an approximately chronological list of the beers that made my year. 

Nugget Nectar (Tröegs Brewing Co.)

I didn't acquire as many "white whales" last year as I did the year before—I think perhaps that's a phase I'm growing out of—but this was one of my most sought-after beers when the year started. A trip to the newly opened Craft Beer Cellar in a neighboring town to get my hands on some late-season Lagunitas Sucks proved fruitful in helping get advanced notice of a future shipment of this wonderful Imperial Amber (which isn't quite as good as Sucks, but I can't guarantee a blind taste test would confirm that). Get to know your beer guys, kids. I mean, young adults. 

Chico King (Sierra Nevada/3 Floyds Brewing Co.)

Sierra Nevada's Beer Camp Across America 12-pack of collaborations with smaller brewers was another of the most highly coveted products to me this year. A few of the guest collaborators were breweries it seemed I might never get my hands on their offerings. Most of the beers were good but not great, but this was the first one I drank and it made the biggest impression on me, even if everyone else raved about the Double Latte: Coffee Milk Stout collaboration with Ninkasi. 

Fort Point Pale Ale (Trillium Brewing Co.)

My first actual visit to Trillium was a fruitful one. Some half-drunk guy who worked across the street tried to convince me to opt for Congress Street IPA instead, and on most days I would have. But, I was planning on sharing it with a friend who's not a hophead. Still, this one has many characteristics I was instantly infatuated with—gloriously citrusy hops and a nice bite—that leave it straddling the line between pale ale and IPA. In fact, this one beats out Nugget Nectar as my favorite non-IPA-that-could-be-called-an-IPA, and was probably also better than any IPA I had last year as well. Time to head back to Congress Street to get more of what Boston's best brewery has to offer. 

Breakside IPA (Breakside Brewery)

It's not officially a rule or a tradition, but it seems our trips to visit KJ's family always include one night where I pick a restaurant/brewpub to go to dinner with her parents. Breakside was an excellent choice this time around, because the food was good, the atmosphere worked for a party of five that included two senior citizens and a toddler, and because their IPAs were excellent. Perhaps the fact that my father-in-law, whose favorite beer is Fat Tire, chose this over their Woodlawn Pale Ale—which was about to be my recommendation—put me in just the right mood, but I think it was really strong on its own merits. 

Fred (Hair of the Dog Brewing Co.)

I went to Portland's Hair of the Dog seeking out Adam, but I found Fred first and he made Adam seem much less friendly. Yes, these beers are named after dogs and no, they don't have much bite, which I guess is a good and a bad thing. Fred was golden and delicious (and 10%) and Hair of the Dog was one of two beer highlights of our recent family trip to Oregon. As a bonus, I got to take LC one block down the street to watch freight trains pass at street level...not once but twice. 

Celebration Ale (Sierra Nevada)

I'm not really sure how long it had been since I last enjoyed this one, but it dates back to the days when Sierra Nevada Pale Ale was one of my first favorite micro-brews in the mid-'90s. Celebration Ale was always a wintertime treat that was noticeably bolder than anything I was drinking at the time. I hadn't really thought twice about it in years, until the Beergraphs guys started talking it up. The fact they were now calling it a Fresh Hop IPA (i.e. a winter ale that doesn't get any spicyness from anything but hops) made it a must-have-again for me. I was not disappointed. 

Loose Cannon Hop³ IPA (Heavy Seas Beer)

Two-plus years ago, during our visit to Baltimore for a friend's wedding, an 11-month old LC and I explored parts of the city together while KJ did pre-wedding things with the girls. After he nodded off in the stroller, I took him to Heavy Seas Ale House. He woke up a little quicker than anticipated, but I still enjoyed a cask-conditioned Loose Cannon with him. It was good, but not great, I'll admit. For Christmas this year, it was one if the beers in my stocking and it was much better than I remembered. I even snapped a photo of LC handing one of my stocking beers to me and it turned out to be this one. Clearly, this is our beer. 

Honorable Mentions: World Wide Stout (Dogfish), DirtWolf (Victory), Jurata (Coronado/Cigar City)

Council Rock and the Hall

If you're still reading, you've certainly noticed this blog's output has dropped off quite a bit this year. I don't expect that to change anytime soon, but I'm still going to try to keep writing about what I consider the essential subject matter. 

To that point, I'm a little (as in way) overdue for an update on my annual trek to Cooperstown for induction weekend. 

Hall of Fame weekend was the last weekend in July, and we spent Thursday through Sunday in Cooperstown. Here are some highlights. 

A Thursday evening visit to Council Rock Brewery, a relatively new place on the outskirts of town. I wasn't expecting to be blown away, and I wasn't, but I was pleasantly surprised. 

I enjoyed a flight of five 5-oz. samples for $8.50, which included a few guest taps as well. In fact, I was just as impressed with the offerings from Hamilton, New York's Good Nature Farm Brewery (Bavarian Dream Hefeweizen and American Brown Ale). 

The Council Rock beers (Full Nelson Pale Ale and Vienna Lager) were very good as well, leaving me to wonder if this isn't already the second best Cooperstown brewery. More on that at a later date, hopefully. 

I was a little less enthusiastic about the one guest beer from a brewery I was already familiar with (Captain Lawrence Kolsch). 

Of course, this and future vacations will surely have an increasing emphasis on Little Chuck's entertainment, so this year seemed like a good time to check out the Farmer's Museum for the first time. 

Considering he still talks about it, I'd say the Farmer's Museum was a hit, although at one point we realized he thinks a farmer is what you and I refer to as a barn. We haven't really bothered to correct him—well, we've tried, but it hasn't worked—so we're leaving this as one of those cute toddlerisms that will correct itself eventually. 

Here's another reason the Farmer's Museum was a big hit. As I said earlier, I hope to eventually get around to writing something about the Cooperstown beer scene, including the area's history as a hop producer. 

Of course, there was Saturday night's parade of Hall of Famers down Main Street. No acknowledgement from Eddie Murray this year. He's still a family favorite, but Rollie Fingers is now LC's favorite player. Because of the mustache, of course. 

Last, but certainly not least, here are the induction ceremony high—and low—lights:

• Greg Maddux made a fart joke.
• Dumb Braves fans started the tomahawk chop/war chant (or whatever it is) during Tom Glavine's speech. 
• Many dumb Braves fans left after Glavine's speech. Honestly, I suspect that's what the Hall of Fame wanted. Why else would they schedule Maddux, Bobby Cox and Glavine as the first three speeches. 
• I missed most of Tony LaRussa's speech waiting on line to use the porta-johns. 
• Frank Thomas cried. A lot. It was fantastic. 
• Dumb Braves fans booed when Joe Torre referenced the 1996 World Series—his first in a career that spanned 18 years as a player and 16 as a manager to that point—during his speech. These are the first boos I've EVER heard at a Hall of Fame induction ceremony, except those directed at Bud Selig.

Obviously, not all Braves fans are dumb, but the notion that only Yankees and Red Sox and Phillies fans are idiots has been out the window for many years, as far as I'm concerned. 

Top Ten States for Craft Brewing

USA Today recently ran an article ranking the ten "best" craft brew states in America. As it turns out, it was really just a list, in descending order, of the states with the most craft breweries.

While I hardly consider myself fully qualified to evaluate all 50 states in the union—although with a little more time and money, I'd be happy to take on the challenge—I do have some of my own opinions on the subject.

So, this will be a quickly produced list of my top ten craft brewing states which, admittedly, will be heavily influenced by where I live, what's available here, and where I've traveled. So, if you happen to be an advocate of North Carolina's or or Texas's craft brewing scenes, I apologize that those states, among others, didn't really get fairly evaluated.

As I like to do with these things, the list is presented in countdown format:

10. (tie) Washington/Michigan - I'm awarding 10th place to the two states most known for craft beer among those whose offerings I have less experience with than the nine listed below. While Washington's breweries are mostly on the smaller side, Michigan's Bell's Brewery is the 7th largest craft brewer in the nation, but unfortunately they don't distribute to New England.
Personal favorites: Yakima (WA), Founders (MI).

9. Maine - I appreciate the brewing scene in New England's largest state area-wise, but the mediocrity of a few of its more well-known brewers (Shipyard, Geary's, Gritty McDuff's) drags it down a bit. Still, I know there's at least one highly regarded brewer whose beers I've never tried (Maine Beer Co.) and I'm sure there are a few other hidden gems as well.
Personal favorites: Baxter, Allagash.

8. Maryland - If only Maryland and Delaware could join forces, they'd probably make the top five on the strength of Dogfish alone, not that Maryland doesn't also pull its weight.
Personal favorites: Stillwater, Flying Dog.

7. Massachusetts - It wasn't long ago that I was pretty critical of the dearth of good craft breweries in the state where I've resided for over 15 years now. But, oh my how things have changed since the days when there wasn't much beyond Samuel Adams and Harpoon. There are many newer, smaller breweries I haven't checked out yet, but Massachusetts has made some serious progress.
Personal favorites: Pretty Things, Clown Shoes.

6. Vermont - The best brewing state in New England also holds the distinction as the state with the most breweries per capita. In what is already becoming a common theme, there are a few breweries I'm aching to visit, namely Hill Farmstead and The Alchemist. Unfortunately for me, both are in the northern half of the state.
Personal favorites: Rock Art, McNeill's.

5. Pennsylvania - I'm sure there are microbreweries in the western half of the state—no, Iron City doesn't count—but my knowledge of this state's great brewers is entirely from the east.
Personal favorites: Victory, Stoudt's, Tröegs.

4. New York - My home state easily beats out my current state of residence, at least for now. Ithaca Beer Company is another upstate New York brewer I need to explore further.
Personal favorites: Southern Tier, Ommegang, Sixpoint.

3. Colorado - It says a lot about Colorado's brewing scene that I've spent a total of only two or three nights there and it still ranks this highly. What this also tells me is I need to spend more time in Colorado.
Personal favorites: Oskar Blues, Great Divide, Boulder.

2. Oregon - Despite living in New York for six post-college years and Massachusetts for almost 16, and spending a grand total of about five weeks in Oregon, I'm pretty sure I've been to more Oregon breweries than those two states combined. Enough said.
Personal favorites: Ninkasi, Lompoc, Rogue, Amnesia

1. California - With more than twice as many breweries as any other state, California has an obvious size advantage, but it's my pick as the best craft brewing state based on quality not quantity.
Personal favorites: Lagunitas, 21st Amendment, Stone, Anderson Valley

Portland: Take Five

This past week, I made my fifth trip to KJ's hometown of Portland, Oregon, and it was our second involving Little Chuck. Considering the latter part of that sentence, these trips are no longer the brewery tours I originally envisioned them to be, but I still managed to visit three new (to me) brewpubs this time.

Prior to my first trip to Portland in the summer of 2009, I fantasized about a city where every other tavern brewed their own beer. In reality, the greater Portland area is a strange hybrid of charming urban neighborhoods and modern-city suburban sprawl. But, honestly, the more happening areas aren't that far from my romanticized ideal. I still vividly remember, on more than one occasion, driving past several brewpubs I'd never heard of on our way to our ultimate destination.

Of course, not being from the area, there were bound to be places I'd never heard of. But, you'll have to believe me when I tell you I'd done enough research to be familiar with the majority of the city's brewing operations.

On that first trip, I tasted close to 40 different local beers in a 10-day span. This time around, although the trip was a little shorter, the list paled (not a reference to the beer style) in comparison:

Eager Beaver IPA (4th Street Brewing Co.)
Black Hearted Ale (Migration Brewing)
Black Rabbit Porter (McMenamins)
Sunflower IPA (McMenamins)
Sahalie (The Ale Apothecary)
India Session Ale (10 Barrel Brewing Co.)
Shocks of Sheba IPA (Fire on the Mountain)
Red Headed Stranger (Fire on the Mountain)
Lunatic Fringe (The Rock Wood Fired Pizza & Spirits)

Yup, that's it. 1-2 beers per day is all I can handle at this point. Well, when I say handle, I'm really talking about what I'm able to consume and still feel comfortable with my parenting ability. But, like I said, three additional brewpubs (4th Street, Fire on the Mountain, The Rock) visited brings my Portland total to 17, if my count is correct. I'm not sure if I'll ever reach the "goal" of eventually making it to every one in the metro area—there are around 40 according to beermapping.com, but I know of at least two that aren't on that list, so I suspect the total is maybe 50 or more—but I sure as heck will enjoy trying.

The real highlight of the trip was a bottle of Sahalie a friend and I shared during a brunch get-together of KJ's crew. It's brewed at a small operation called The Ale Apothecary in Bend, Oregon.

When our friend purchased it at a local beer store called Belmont Station—which he raves about—he was told it smells like bubble gum, but tastes like a horse smells. This might sound a little peculiar to you, as it does to me, but he honestly meant that to be a good thing.

I'll admit my sense of smell isn't the keenest, but I didn't pick up any bubble gum in the aroma, so it's possible my friend misunderstood the description. In fact, I thought its creamy head imparted a faint, but funky, scent (of horse manure?) into my nose.

Despite this, it tasted fantastic. Described as an American Wild Ale, it's not a style I would necessarily consider my thing, but its combination of fruitiness and tartness, and slightly woody champagne-like essence went down easy, despite being around 10% ABV. I suppose it didn't hurt that I drank most of it on an empty stomach, giving me my first pre-noon buzz in I don't know how long.

Streets of Baltimore

When KJ, LC and I headed to Baltimore for a wedding last weekend, I had a few objectives in mind:

1. Enjoy quality time with KJ's core group of friends from college, whom I've been getting to know over the last few years, despite living 3000 miles away from most of them.
2. Get a taste of the local flavor by trying at least a few Baltimore-brewed beers. Yeah, yeah, yeah...what else is new? I know.
3. Wear my St. Louis Browns cap whenever appropriate (not to the wedding, obviously) and take mental notes of the reactions I receive.
4. Walk around town with the Gram and Emmylou version of "Streets of Baltimore" in my head the entire weekend, occasionally switching it out for the Jayhawks' "Baltimore Sun."

I was mostly successful:

1. Nice wedding and all around great weekend, but you're not really interested in that part.
2. See below.
3. Only one stranger talked to me about baseball, and it wasn't actually in reference to the hat, although it certainly was inspired by it. A guy on the elevator in my hotel asked what the current status of the NLCS was (Cardinals 3-2, at that point), obviously not understanding the significance of the orange STL logo on the brown hat. I'm not holding this against Baltimorans, though. Most likely, since that encounter occurred in a hotel, the gentleman in question was an out-of-towner. Additionally, since we were staying in the inner harbor area, it's fairly likely most of the folks I crossed paths with weren't natives either. Still, I was a little disappointed.
4. That one was easy.

Now about that beer. I used to think New England was the top eastern region for craft brewing, but with the emergence of breweries like Delaware's Dogfish and Pennsylvania's Victory, I've since realized the mid-Atlantic is the east coast's best answer to the Pacific Northwest.

Baltimore's scene isn't good enough to be considered the region's capital, but I was still fairly impressed. One particular brewery I'd never heard of prior to the trip dominated my weekend's consumption, but I also found the time for an afternoon stop-off at a more familiar place.

Let's discuss the latter first. The wedding was Sunday, so on Saturday morning the girls had a pedicure appointment. Which, of course, meant a few hours of boy time with me and Little Chuck exploring the city's streets.

Not surprisingly, an hour-plus of strolling around town turned into a short nap for the little guy. In fact, I first noticed he was asleep as I came upon this landmark:

Canal Street Malt House

Now a condo complex, the Canal Street Malt House was originally built in 1866 to store malt for the city's growing brewing industry.

Just across the street was the Heavy Seas Ale House, the brewery I was previously familiar with, having tried a few of their beers prior. Their brew pub was also a little off the beaten path and not as crowded as some of the inner harbor joints, so it seemed like a reasonable place to take my 11-month old son.

I waited a half-hour, though, because I needed to keep moving so as not to risk interrupting the nap that had just begun. Once inside, a pint of their cask-conditioned Loose Cannon Hop³ Ale seemed appropriate. When traveling, it just makes sense to drink beer you can't get elsewhere, and while this brand is distributed to my neck of the woods, the cask obviously is not.

It was a solid IPA, but not the best of the weekend, and it had the result that a good first beer usually does. It made me want a second, an urge my parental responsibilities forced me to resist.

The brewer I was introduced to on this trip was Stillwater Artisanal Ales. Similar to Massachusetts' Pretty Things, Stillwater doesn't have any of their own brewing facilities. Instead, they rent out space from and/or collaborate with other breweries for each of their offerings.

Friday night, all of KJ's friends who were in town for the weekend, including the then-future bride and groom, met up for dinner at a great little beer bar called Of Love and Regret, which happens to be co-owned by the head of Stillwater.

Their beer selection, of course, includes at least ten of Stillwater's creations on draft. The first one that jumped off the menu at me was a Belgian IPA called Why Can't IBU, my new choice for the best beer name ever.

Both KJ and I had the same initial impression of this one. It's a really nice IPA. As insipid as that sounds, I think it's meaningful. The beer doesn't knock you over with typical IPA characteristics, but it draws you in with subtle but distinctive elements: a mildly piney and citrusy aroma, crisp and dry up front, with a nice (there's that word again) hop finish.

For my second beer of that first night, I enjoyed an Existent, Stillwater's answer to your inner crisis of character. A smooth and dry dark ale, it's also nicely hopped and well balanced. 

Sunday night was the big event, and here's where I admit I finally broke my new beers resolution. At the time, I rationalized that I wasn't, but there's really no denying it.

Before I explain, let me first say I already decided my home brew would be the allowable exception. I wasn't about to brew a 5-gallon batch of my own recipe and limit myself to one 12-oz. or 22 oz. serving. So, I guess the loophole was to say the resolution only applies to commercially-brewed beer. Fair enough, right?

Well, at Sunday night's reception, the beer options were a keg of Stillwater Cellar Door—awesome choice, by the way: a session beer appropriate for both summer and fall and one that should definitely appeal to the masses—in addition to Bud Light and Natural Light. So, basically there was only one choice. If one of the lesser alternatives was National Bohemian, I may have gone for it, but instead I decided a wedding celebration was a good enough excuse to bend my rules a bit. Actually, I tried to tell myself a keg was just one big beer I was sharing with a bunch of other people, but the same would apply to a keg at a bar, so that rationalization fell flat when I reconsidered it later.

I still plan to finish out the year by drinking only beers I haven't yet consumed in 2012 (current count: 149) and to make next year's goal to drink more distinct beers than this year. But, there's no mistaking I didn't make it through the entire year without drinking the same beer twice. Oh well.

LC's West Coast Adventure, Part 2

OK, so I'll admit that a west coast trip with an infant wasn't as easy as I made it sound in part one. I only touched on his problems adjusting on the night we arrived. Well, there were a few more instances of the effect of jet lag, but for the most part he was a trooper and handled the change in his schedule pretty well.

But, as KJ has reminded me on several occasions, it's the return trip back east that's the real challenge. So, since we've been back home, the boy is really experiencing some jet lag. All the more reason I should have gotten started on part two while I was still on vacation.

Anyway, where did I leave off? When we stopped off for the growlers at Migration, the idea was to have an empty one (or two) on hand at the in-laws' place so we could fill it (or them) with fresh beer from various breweries during this and future visits. I was pretty sure, but not 100% certain, that any area brewpub would fill any growler, no matter where it came from.

I'm not really sure why I ever doubted that would be the case. I haven't purchased too many growlers in recent years, mainly because most of the brewpubs in and around Boston are nothing special, but also because I don't often find myself in the situation where drinking (or even sharing) a gallon of beer in one sitting is realistic, believe it or not. I suppose my brewing pal and I could handle it without much problem, but we're usually drinking our own beer while "working."

While it's certainly possible that some New England brewpubs would frown on the idea of filling a container with a competitor's label on it, Portland breweries were happy to fill any growler, of course. In fact, on Monday, after an outing to the Portland Zoo*, we attempted another brewpub drive-by (so to speak) only to find out Coalition Brewing is closed on Mondays. But, as it turns out, the sole employee (brewer? owner?) working that day was more than happy to fill my growler, after offering me a couple quick samples.

*I'm really looking forward to when LC appreciates this sort of thing, and so is KJ, especially since she's expressed on several occasions her desire to take him to Disney World. In fact, we've had numerous conversations about how we're really looking forward to living vicariously through our son by taking him to places we have fond memories of via our own childhoods.

The beer I opted for was Coalition's Apollo Creed CDA. CDA stands for Circadian Dark Ale, but I was told it's basically a black IPA. It was good, but I'd rate Migration's offerings a little higher, especially their signature brew, MPA (Migration Pale Ale).

As expected, this trip wasn't the usual brewpub crawl that previous outings to Portland were. Actually, the first one was, with subsequent visits being progressively less beer-centric.** This is probably a good thing, although to me the ultimate vacation involves lunch brews at the expense of nighttime drinking.

**The afternoon spent at the Oregon Brewers Festival being the exception.

We did make it to four new (to me) brewpubs in all, with the fourth being Rogue Ales' Northwest Portland location for a late lunch on Thursday. My choice of their XS Imperial IPA was a good one, except it made me a little more tired than I wanted to be on a day LC needed a little extra attention. My bad, of course. Another good choice was a bomber to-go of Rogue's Maple Bacon Voodoo, which survived the flight home—despite our luggage being temporarily lost and finally delivered to our home about 30 hours after we returned—to be shared with my brewing partner, and compared to our I've Seen All Good Maple Bacon Porter, of course.

The flight home went as well as the trip west, as far as LC was concerned. I fully expected KJ and I would split the duties of being a pillow for the little guy, but my better half stepped up on both occasions, allowing him to continue to sleep undisturbed in the position he fell asleep in. This meant she barely moved for the duration of each 5 1/2 to 6-hour flight and, of course, is part of the reason she's one of the two best moms ever, in my not-even-slightly biased opinion.

LC's West Coast Adventure, Part 1

Little Chuck's first real travel adventure got off to a good start Wednesday night. A six-hour cross-country flight with an infant is a tenuous situation. KJ and I knew, going in, it would either go really well or really badly. Well, I suppose there was the potential for some middle ground, but it turns out the former was the case.

LC slept for the entire Boston-to-Portland flight, proving the naythinkers wrong. Of course, the "naythinkers" may have been a figment of my/our imagination, but it was hard not to think everyone sitting near us on the plane was dreading their luck when they saw us board.

There is one kind of funny story regarding that. The gentleman sitting in the aisle seat in our row was offered and accepted the chance to switch seats once it was determined how many empty ones there were. I can't say I blame him, but it turns out, he should have stayed put, as his new spot had him in the row in front of a two-year old who didn't travel as well as LC.

Some of the credit goes to LC's parents—OK, his mother—for the successful strategy of choosing a flight that departed right around his bedtime. You can probably do the math, though, and realize six hours is not a full night's sleep for an infant. Given that his sleep was interrupted, it probably comes as little surprise the remainder of the night was not as easy as the flight.

Another obvious side effect of traveling to Portland with a baby was to make it more difficult than usual to take advantage of one of my favorite aspects of the city. So, my first beer of the trip was a Ninkasi Total Domination IPA I had left in my in-laws' refrigerator the last time we visited.

Speaking of side effects, an unintended and unnoticed (until now) result of my new beers resolution is that I'm drinking less. For instance, after the Total Domination, I was offered a Fat Tire by my brother-in-law. I declined, partly due to parental responsibilities, but also because I knew my father-in-law's refrigerator is always well-stocked with Fat Tires and I needed to save that one for later.

On Friday night we met up with a bunch of KJ's friends and ended up at Burnside Brewing Company, another new brewpub to me. I was planning on grabbing just a pint, but there were so many interesting sounding selections on the menu (many of which I wouldn't risk my only pint of the night on) that I decided to go with the sampler: 4-oz. tastes of all nine beers currently on the menu.

I like that all of their lighter offerings are a little jazzed up, and although I'm not generally a fan of fruity beers, all three that fall into this category are subtly and well done. I particularly liked the Fruity Monk, a Belgian Ale aged on pineapple, mango and papaya, although at 5.9% ABV I probably shouldn't be calling it light. Hard to believe by the description, but the fruitiness, while recognizable, was not overpowering and added a distinct pleasantness to this one.

Of course, I was working my way up to the darker and/or hoppier beers, and I was equally impressed at that end of the spectrum. The Oatmeal Pale Ale had the most pleasing aroma of all, citrusy with subtle hints of its malty sweetness. Ultimately, though, Burnside's IPA and Alter Ego Imperial IPA were not disappointing in their roles as headline acts. Both were above average representations of the style and good enough to interest me in returning for proper pints of one or both. We'll see if I have the time for that.

But, would doing so break my new beers resolution? That is, do I consider each of the nine as my one and only for the year? I did, in fact, have a little help with the sampler, so I really only had 2-3 ounces of each. Therefore, I'm inclined to just count it as one beer in total and say it would be OK to have any of them again. It will probably turn out to be a moot point, as given all the great beer options in this town, I'll likely opt to keep exploring others rather than return.

On Saturday, we visited the Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum in McMinnville. I share this not because I have any intention of describing the experience, but because I don't want you to think all I do in Oregon is drink.

On the way back to the in-laws' place for dinner, we decided to pick up a growler of fresh beer. So, we pulled off the highway in Portland and I pulled up the Find Craft Beer app—which uses data from the Beer Mapping Project—on my iPhone and asked it to find the nearest brewpub. Just three-tenths of a mile away was Migration Brewing, so we Google-mapped it and headed there for a gallon-to-go of their MPA (Migration Pale Ale) and Luscious Lupulin IPA.

This, to me, was the ultimate use of a smart phone.

Take LC Out to the Ballgame

I've been to games at 30 major league parks, 19 of which are currently in use by big league clubs. I've also been to a whole lot of minor league parks, but I honestly don't know how many that is. I've tried to figure it out, but it's not as easy to jog your memory when there are so many minor league teams that have come and gone over the years.

In fact, I know I saw one game at Reading, Pennsylvania when I was in Lancaster on a work trip, but I can't remember if I also hit Harrisburg. I also once received a job offer—that I didn't accept—from the Williamsport Cubs, but I believe my only visit to that park was for the interview.

My rough count has it at around 30, including independent leagues, spring training sites and the inaugural home game of the Sun City Rays.* So, that's an approximate total of 60 professional baseball parks I've seen games at. Little Chuck has some serious catching up to do—but, we plan to give him every opportunity—as this past Saturday he got his first live taste of the sport that both his parents revere.

*In case you're wondering, the Rays were a team in the Senior Professional Baseball Association, a league for players 35 and older that began play in 1989 and folded halfway through their second season due to poor attendance.

KJ, LC and I went on a little overnight jaunt this past weekend to Portland, Maine—a two-hour drive up I-95 for us—as one of my birthday presents was to take our son to his first game.

Interestingly enough, Portland happens to be one of the ballparks I couldn't seem to recall whether I'd been there or not. I certainly spent a lot of time in that neck of the woods when, in my previous career, Poland Spring was my client. But, as it turns out, walking up to Hadlock Field was all the evidence I needed to realize it was my first time there.

The Portland Sea Dogs are the AA Eastern League affiliate of the Red Sox, so for some reason they thought it would be a good idea to turn their home into a bit of a replica of Fenway Park. The left field wall, dubbed the Maine Monster, is a wooden version of Fenway's Green Monster, complete with miniature Coke bottle, Citgo sign and WB Mason billboard. However, the scoreboard is electronic rather than manual, probably because there's nowhere for the scoreboard operator to hang out, or for Manny Ramirez to "take a break," had he ever played there while on rehab.

I have mixed emotions about the Maine Monster. I guess it's kind of a cool idea that some young fans might get a big kick out of, and I'm more appreciative of that angle these days. But, I can't help wondering if it was created for player development purposes, and this would seem like a silly idea to me.

Ultimately, there is only one Fenway and it should remain that way. Now, if they decided to tear down the original, then I'd be all for paying tribute to it elsewhere.

At least the amenities at Hadlock Field—most notably the relative spaciousness of the seats—made for a much more comfortable fan experience than at its major league counterpart.

The one important area where Hadlock was hands-down better than any major or minor league park I've visited is in beer selection.**

**I'm kind of embarrassed to say I don't remember what the selection was like at PGE Park, the former home of the Portland Beavers. You know, the superior Portland (no offense to Maine's, but Oregon's is a tough standard), also known as the craft beer capital of the United States.

The park has an entire stand dedicated to microbrews, with about a dozen selections from Maine brewers Geary's, Sebago, Shipyard, Sea Dog and Baxter, one of my new favorites. They also had Harpoon IPA, which I suppose is better than offering Bud Light, but I would have preferred it to be exclusively local beers.

In hindsight, I should have opted for one of the Baxter offerings that I've never tried, but I was in the mood for an IPA and they didn't have Baxter's Stowaway, which is excellent. So, I opted for a Sebago Frye's Leap IPA, which was good, but falls short of my favorites for the style because of its piney rather than citrusy hop characteristics.

There's also a Shipyard Grill concession stand, offering a wider selection of styles from one of Maine's weaker microbreweries—in my opinion—as well as a few interesting food options and...Bud Light. I guess you can't win 'em all.

We missed the first two innings of the game between feeding LC, taking turns in the rest room following a few hours on the road, and getting ourselves fed, but we knew this was par for the course when taking a baby to a ball game. After spending a few innings in our seats, it was fairly obvious the boy needed a respite from the sun, so we headed to the souvenir stand.

We had our sights set on an infant ball cap, which would be LC's first and would appropriately commemorate his first game. But, all they had in his size was a girl's cap. The Sea Dogs hat sized for a 2-4 year old was adorable, but I didn't see the point in buying his "first hat" if it wasn't going to fit. So, we purchased a cheap $8 Sea Dogs ball, which will be a decent souvenir we can hang onto until he loses it or decides he's not as nostalgic as we are. But still, we couldn't help feeling a little disappointed (even more so when I discovered the infant cap is not available online).

We weren't sure how long the little guy would last at the game, but our Baby Bjorn sure made it easier for his parents. The wife has more experience carrying him in it, but I quickly learned to make sure everything else I was holding was at least an LC arm's length away. So, in fact we did make it through nine innings, although LC did fall asleep briefly in the 8th, which is right about when all the fireworks were happening (literally).

The Sea Dogs led 1-0 until late in the game when both offenses came to life: the visiting Binghamton Mets scoring five runs in the top of the 8th, the home team answering with three of their own (on two homers) in the bottom of the frame, and one more to tie it up in the last of the 9th.

Portland's outburst introduced us to the lighthouse that rises behind the center field fence, accompanied by fireworks, after a home team player hits a home run. I liked this attribute of the ballpark much more than I did the Maine Monster.

Now is when I admit we left after the bottom of the 9th, and didn't stick around to see Binghamton win on a solo homer in the 10th. Normally, I'm not a fan of leaving early, but I think you'll cut us some slack considering the circumstances.

Our hotel was in South Portland, only a mile or so away from two brewpubs, or so I thought. My first choice for my birthday dinner was Sebago Brewing Company, but it turned out The Beer Mapping Project needs an update as that brewer's South Portland location is no more.

The other nearby option was Sea Dog Brewing Company. I made the mistake of telling KJ earlier my initial impression of this brewery wasn't a great one, so of course she felt bad we were settling. But, it was getting late, and being a beer snob is much further down my list of priorities than is being a parent. Besides, I didn't have a strong recollection as to why I was so non-plussed about Sea Dog, and I'm always willing to challenge such hazy impressions.

Turns out, my first impression was dead on. Their IPA was basically a Bass Ale clone passed off as brewed in the style of an English IPA. But, if you ask me, while Bass is worthy of being considered the predecessor to considerable improvements in the style, it really shouldn't be mentioned in the same breath as an IPA at all.

The food was nothing to write home about either. I broke a personal rule by ordering an ethnic dish—Chicken Mole—in a region not known for that particular ethnicity. It actually wasn't bad, but the portion was a little light, even after I questioned why it included only one filet and was brought a second. KJ, on the other hand, ordered something you'd think it reasonable to expect would be done well in Maine. But, her Fish 'n' Chips looked more like fish nuggets and were a little on the soggy side.

None of this, of course, detracted from a great little birthday road trip, one I'm sure will remain in the memory bank for however many more years or decades this world has in store for me. I took my only son to his first baseball game, after all. Short of watching him play in his first game (but, let's not rush things), it doesn't get much better than that.

Solar-Powered Beer

There's no shortage of subjects to write about from my recent trip to Oregon, but I'll start by profiling one of my favorite new (to me) Portland brew pubs.

Two years ago, Lucky Labrador Brewing Company was one of the places KJ had wanted to introduce me to, but we didn't make it there until this past week. It was worth the wait.

I actually only had time for one beer, but I was quite impressed with their Super Dog IPA. This aggressive-but-not-overpoweringly hopped brew quickly moved to the top of a list I'll probably share in another post. That is, I placed every beer I drank over my nine days in Oregon into one of three categories: "One and done," "I'll drink it again," and "More please." Obviously, Super Dog—which features a grapefruit and piney hop profile—made it onto the "More please" list, but I'll explain the lists later, if their meanings are not super obvious.

But, it wasn't just Lucky Lab's beer I was impressed with. I was also pretty fascinated with their claim that they use solar-heated water in their brewing process. Since they're able to heat the water using solar power to 185 degrees, they use this water for several of the facility's non-brewing functions, but also for the part of the process that is analogous to the steeping of the grains in home brewing.

Click to enlarge for a more readable version

185 degrees is not quite boiling, so they're not able to use solar energy for the entire brewing process, but, as the sign above explains, they use the solar-heated water for the all-important step in which fermentable sugars are extracted from barley malt.

The atmosphere at Lucky Lab is also top notch. One of my observations on this trip was the more rustic brew pubs tend to be superior to those that have a more corporate feel. This, of course, is a gross generalization, but this particular establishment helps to maintain the stereotype.

Lucky Lab features a sort of cafeteria-style atmosphere, in which you order food and ales at the bar and then just take your selections to your seats. No table service, just no-nonsense self-service in a warm, comfortable setting.

Ranking the Portland (OR) Brew Pubs

KJ and I just booked our flight for a summer trip to Portland, Oregon. It will be my third trip to the "City of Roses," otherwise known to me as the wife's hometown.

Of course, if you're reading this you know my favorite aspect of Portland is that it's indisputably the #1 beer city in the country. In our two previous trips, I've spent a fair amount of time exploring the local beer scene. Admittedly, though, I've only been able to scratch the surface and, short of moving out there, I'll probably never be able to produce a worthy list of the city's best brew pubs.

Regardless, I thought I'd post a short list of my favorites so far. There are so many more I need to check out. Hopworks Urban Brewery and Lucky Labrador are among those currently on my radar. But, for now, here are my top five:

1. New Old Lompoc Brewery - On my first visit to Portland, in the summer of 2009, I was pretty much blown away by both their LSD (Lompoc Strong Draft) and C-Note Imperial Pale Ale. The former was my pick for that year's best new (to me) beer, while the latter is named for the fact it's brewed with seven different varieties of hops beginning with the letter C.
   
   

2. 

   Admittedly, not my most
   flattering photo

   Amnesia Brewing Company - Also during that first visit, I was quite impressed with Amnesia's Copacetic IPA and Desolation IPA—as well as a couple others—and by the fact this particular establishment had two IPAs on tap simultaneously. I also loved the atmosphere here. It's an old converted garage with lots of outdoor seating. In fact, I was so enamored with this place that I bought a T-shirt.
   
   
3. Alameda Brewhouse - This past Christmas, on my second trip to Portland, I discovered this spot and it quickly became one of my new favorites. I enjoyed their Papa Noels Olde Ale and Yellow Wolf Imperial IPA, the latter so much that I risked making a mess in my suitcase to bring home a 22-oz. bomber.
   
   
4. BridgePort Brewing Company - When I first met KJ, she considered BridgePort IPA to be the one beer that fondly reminded her of home, so this was one of our first stops my first time out there. Their beers were very good, particularly the ESB and IPA, but they were lacking that one brew that really blew me away. It's a special place nevertheless.
   
   
5. Laurelwood Public House & Brewery - My latest trip included a stop-off at Laurelwood. Their Workhorse IPA and Vinter Varmer were more than solid, earning them the final spot on this short list, although it may be tenous, considering I have every expectation my next trip will result in a couple more great discoveries.

Redhook's Stationary Brewery Tour

At the end of our holiday vacation out west, KJ and I traveled to Snohomish, Washington to spend New Year's Eve with her brother's family, and to fly home from Seattle on the red-eye the following night.

Well aware of our passion for craft beer, my brother-in-law decided he needed to take us to the Redhook Brewery in Woodinville. So, he recruited his new personal designated driver—his 16-year old son—and younger teenage daughter, and we headed to the brewery on New Year's Day.

My first impression of the place was that it looks pretty much identical to Redhook's Brewery in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, which, admittedly, I haven't visited in over ten years. This isn't necessarily a problem, but it does give it a bit of a corporate feel.

We sat in the brew pub and ordered beers and appetizers while we waited for the tour to start. I drank a Big Ballard Imperial IPA, so named as a tribute to Redhook's flagship brew from the '80s, Ballard Bitter. At 8.6% ABV, Big Ballard is surprisingly very easy going down for an Imperial IPA. Not that it's difficult for me to drink beers of this style, but this one is actually pretty smooth, although it does have an assertive hop aroma.

The Big Ballard may have been a questionable decision, considering I was going on a tour that would undoubtedly include tastings of several less robust brews, but it was the one on the menu I most wanted to try, and I wasn't disappointed. The brewery tour was another story.

The "tour" only cost a dollar per person—although this included the two teenagers with us, who obviously couldn't drink—but it was really nothing more than a tasting. Our sophomoric, Phish-head guide informed us about the brewery and its beers, in between pouring us fairly generous samples. Don't get me wrong, here. He was pleasant, charismatic and fairly knowledgeable, but his drinking philosophy was not what I expected from a craft brewery tour guide.

At one point, he asked us if we knew what ESB stands for, to which several tour-goers correctly responded, "extra special bitter." His reply was to point out that it also stands for "extreme shower beer." Now, I'm not going to try to convince you that I've never drank in the shower, but there was something about this frat boy attitude that seemed odd from a person the brewery was presenting to the public as their representative.

I also didn't admire how proud he was of the fact that Redhook has reached the point of production where it's no longer considered a microbrewery, although he was quick to refute the misconception that Redhook is owned by Anheuser Busch (they own only a 1/3 stake). Not that I would begrudge a once small brewer's ability to grow their business, but it's evident from the mediocrity of most of Redhook's products that this means they've pretty much gone the way of Samuel Adams.

But, most importantly, I simply expected that a brewery tour would, in fact, involve...well, touring the brewery. Not as far as Redhook is concerned. As I already inferred, their tour consisted of hanging out in one room, sampling beers and being directed to turn around and look at the brewing vessels through the window behind us. The closest we came to actually touring the brewery was when we walked out the back door of the tasting room and onto a landing which overlooked the fermentation tanks.

As I pretty much already said, the beers that were poured during the tasting were nothing to write home about. Their ESB is, and has always been, solid. In fact, years ago it was one of what I'll call my "crossover" beers. That is, a beer I would usually have on hand at parties, that I felt was appropriate to serve to craft and non-craft beer drinkers alike. I still feel this way about ESB, although nowadays there are so many other options out there that I haven't purchased it in quite some time.

I definitely also enjoyed Redhook's Long Hammer IPA, but it's really just average for the style. The rest of their lineup, besides Big Ballard IPA—which wasn't served on the tour—are all drinkable beers, but, honestly, no better than average, and that's being a bit generous. This would have been forgivable, though, had they just led me on a simple 30-minute walk through their operation, as every other brewery I've ever been to has done.

Keep Oregon Beered

A slogan commonly seen around Portland, Oregon—it's even painted on the side wall of one local business—is "Keep Portland Weird!" Portlanders apparently take pride in the uniqueness of their city, but the phrase is as much about encouraging the support of local businesses as it is about maintaining a certain level of eclecticism.

Of course, a clever spinoff of this is "Keep Portland Beered!" In fact, local brewery Bridgeport put up a billboard featuring the saying. My personal philosophy when I'm visiting the in-laws out west is to only drink beer indigenous to the state.

KJ and I only spent about half as much time as we did the last time we traveled to Oregon, so I didn't come anywhere near sampling as many brews as the 40 I tried back in August of 2009. This time, I focused on proper beers, instead of opting for the 2-3 ounce samples offered at most brewpubs, and I counted 15 in total. These were all Oregon-brewed offerings, of course, with the exception of a trip to the Red Hook Brewery in Woodinville, Washington on New Year's Day. But, I'm saving that for a later post.

Here's the list. All were bottles with the exception of Caldera (cans) and those from the Alameda, Laurelwood and Old Lompoc brewpubs (draft).

10 Barrel Brewing Company (Bend): Apocalypse IPA
Alameda Brewhouse (Portland): Papa Noel's Olde Ale, Yellow Wolf Imperial IPA
Caldera Brewing Company (Ashland): Pale Ale
Deschutes Brewery (Bend): Black Butte Porter, Mirror Pond Pale Ale
Laurelwood Public House & Brewery (Portland): Vinter Varmer, Workhorse IPA
MacTarnahan's Brewing Company (Portland): Winter HumBug'r Ale
Metolius Brewing Company (Portland): Dolly Varden IPA
Ninkasi Brewing Company (Eugene): Believer Double Red Ale, Sleigh'r Dark Double Alt Ale, Total Domination IPA
Lompoc Hedge House (Portland): LSD (Lompoc Strong Draft)
Rogue Ales (Newport): Brutal IPA

Although two of those listed above—Ninkasi's Total Domination IPA and Lompoc's LSD—were among the five I raved about following the last trip, this time the story was Alameda Brewhouse, which instantly climbed to the status of one of my top three Portland brewpubs, along with New Old Lompoc Brewery and Amnesia Brewing Company.

My first beer at Alameda was their winter seasonal, which was excellent. I'll share here the less-than-140 character review I wrote on Twitter at the time:

Alameda Papa Noels Olde Ale is a rich, malty, non-spicy winter ale with a luscious chocolately finish, and just enough hops bite.

Next, I opted for their Yellow Wolf Imperial IPA, which is a very citrusy, high octane—8.2% ABV—and well balanced offering. In fact, I was lucky enough to find a 22 oz. bomber in a beer store, and was able to safely transport it home in my luggage, although I was a little nervous about that. So, I'm saving that one for a rainy day, and I look forward to enjoying another taste of Oregon at a later date.

Best of 2010

A little later than I did this last year, here are my other Best of 2010 awards in categories related to this blog.

Best Brewery
While attending a conference in Chicago back in April, KJ and I visited Piece, the brewpub partly owned by Cheap Trick guitarist Rick Nielsen. It was, hands down, the best new brewery I checked out this year.

Best Beer
While Piece's Wack Job and Dysfunctionale were both excellent, my favorite new (to me) beer of the year goes to Mikkeller 1000 IBU, which I sampled at the Armsby Abbey in Worcester, just prior to the Neil Young show at the Hanover Theater.

Best Ballpark
Although I visited U.S. Cellular Field for the second time—12 years removed from my first visit—George M. Steinbrenner Field in Tampa was the only park I visited for the first time this year. It was an impressive complex, nonetheless, so although it takes this award kind of by default, the Yankees Spring Training home is a winner.

Best Concert
I slacked off a little on the concert-going in the first, third and fourth quarters of 2010, but I attended a fair amount of shows in the three month period from April to June. While Keith Emerson and Greg Lake's reunion tour stop in Lynn would be the runner-up, The National's House of Blues show in June was definitely my concert of the year.

Best Trip
I used to call this category "Road Trips," but that description really didn't apply to my top travel experience this year. Although our frequent wedding planning treks to Grafton, Vermont were quite memorable, it should come as no surprise that KJ and my honeymoon excursion to Italy was by far my favorite trip of the year.

Piece Out

On our way out of town, KJ and I finally made it to the brew pub we'd been hoping to get to all along. Honestly, we had no idea what we would have been missing had we opted to skip it. I really just wanted to get a taste of something locally-brewed, and the fact that Rick Nielsen is a part owner was simply a bonus. What I didn't know was that Piece would deliver the best new (to me) beer I've had since visiting Oregon back in August.

The thought crossed our minds to order a variety of 3-oz. samples, but instead we opted to cut straight to the chase and go with the styles we were really craving. "We're hoppy people," KJ said to our waiter, who lumped himself into the same category. I ordered a supercharged IPA named Dysfunctionale, and KJ's selection was an Imperial IPA called Wack Job. What she didn't realize was that the latter weighed in at 9% ABV.

My first impression of the Dysfunctionale was of its pleasantly mild grapefruity hop aroma and profile, the bitterness of which perfectly balanced its full-bodied maltiness. My first smell and taste of the Wack Job, though, revealed how truly subtle the Dysfunctionale's notes of grapefruit are, as those characteristics in this one blew me away. Much more hoppy than the Dysfunctionale, the Wack Job is slightly higher on the bitterness end of the scale, but still very well balanced.

Although rating both of them highly, KJ clearly preferred the Wack Job. I couldn't decide which I liked better, but can honestly say they are the best pair of brew pub ales I've had since Old Lompoc's LSD and C-Note Imperial Pale Ale.

Our waiter also gave us small samples of two other brews, Marketing Ploy—an IPA that isn't as well-balanced as the others, but is solid—and Surrender—a Belgian Farmhouse Saison that's pretty good, but a little too sweet after the highly hopped beers we already had. Of course, it was the name of the latter that piqued my curiosity, but I still chose the Wack Job for my second beer, despite already sampling much of KJ’s.

The beer isn't all that Piece has going for it. The service is excellent, and their brand of New Haven-style thin crust pizza is tremendous as well. We ordered ours with pepperoni, banana peppers and garlic, a delectable combination. The atmosphere is great also, with plenty of music memorabilia hanging from the walls, including a Rick Nielsen trademark five-neck guitar. Playing from the tavern's sound system was an excellent mix of indie rock, much of it highly recognizable and some just slightly familiar, all at a reasonable volume. That is, not nearly as loud as in other places with similar vibes.

After that, we hopped back on the 'L' to O'Hare, quite content that we had ended our visit to a great city on an extremely high note.

Beer Wars

About once a year it seems, I do a post about a movie, and this year a documentary about one of my favorite subjects earns the honor.

Beer Wars offers the viewer an inside look at the American beer industry, particularly from the perspective of two small-time brewers, Dogfish Head's Sam Calagione and Moonshot's Rhonda Kallman. These two are quite the contrast in terms of success, though, as Dogfish has thrived in its underdog role, while the film portrays Moonshot as on the verge of ultimate failure.

Not that I really needed any incentive to stay away from the products of Anheuser Busch and MillerCoors, but the film takes my dislike for the U.S.'s largest brewer to another level. At the risk of echoing every other bleeding liberal—which I'm really not, because I do believe in the free market system—who advocates for the little guy versus the evil of big business, this movie has me truly considering a boycott of Anheuser Busch and all of its brand names. That list includes Monster Energy, a company guilty of its own transgressions against Vermont's Rock Art Brewery.

Here's a little clip from the movie, in which Calagione discusses Anheuser Busch's frivolous lawsuit versus Dogfish. A spoiler alert isn't really necessary, because this is a documentary, after all, but this is one of the film's better examples of the corporate giant's anti-competitive practices.



The narrator refers to Anheuser Busch as a monopoly, which I don't think is technically true. Although approximately one of every two beers sold in the United States is one of their products, MillerCoors also has a market share of about 28%, so I think the characterization of Anheuser Busch as a monopoly is a bit of an exaggeration.

Also of interest is that both Anheuser Busch and Monster Energy have been unsuccessful in their lawsuits versus these smaller brewers. I'm not sure what came of the former's case, but I do know that Monster dropped their suit against Rock Art as a result of public backlash.

As far as I'm concerned, they can use advertising to pull the wool over the eyes of all the non-discriminating beer consumers they want, but when a company with 50% of an industry's market share tries to bring down a "competitor" with 0.002%, over something as trivial as how generic the names of their beers are, that's a slap in the face of capitalism. I also have no problem with the fact that Anheuser Busch makes terrible beer. It's their prerogative to do so, just as it's mine to not drink it, and their popularity is more than enough justification that their swill-producing business model is a successful one.

I'm sure it could be argued that all corporate giants are guilty of anti-competitive tactics, at least to some extent. But a major difference between Anheuser Busch and Coca-Cola, for instance, is the latter doesn't have to resort to such measures because, although there are folks who prefer Pepsi, Coke's products are actually good. There is no Dogfish Head of the soda industry, and the reason there isn't is because there's no niche for the little guy to make a superior product to the big guy.

But, we're not talking about soda here. We're talking about an industry that means a great deal to me, so it's one that has me considering taking a stand, which is harder than you would think. But, I'm not going to get into that right now. What I am going to do is recommend you check out Beer Wars: rent it, Netflix it, order it on demand. Or, if you're one of those people lucky enough to live near one of these locales, check out a screening:

• February 21 in Portland OR 
• February 28 in Portsmouth NH 
• March 25 on Long Island 
• June 27 in New York City

While we're on the subject, and since it is Friday, promise me that you'll enjoy a craft beer or two...or three...this weekend.

Best Comments of 2009

I hadn't really thought about this until recently, but this was the first year since I started writing this blog that I posted consistently throughout the year. So, the process of sorting through all of its comments for 2009 was a little more difficult than I imagined it would be. Of course, that's a good thing, as it means there were more comments than I realized, even looking past the fact that a considerable number of them were my own.

But, I still managed to compile a list of my five favorite comments of the year. When I first had this idea, I thought it would be about the most humorous comments, but as it turned out, that wasn't my major focus.

5. In what was probably the only time he read this blog, New Paltz, New York writer Terence wrote this in response to my September 7 post about local brew pub the Gilded Otter:

"Nice to see what non-locals think of the Otter. I agree that the food is excellent, but my taste in beer is fairly narrow (a limited selection of wheat beers tickle my tongue, but nothing else elicits excitement) so I've never been sure if they had decent beer or not. Next time you're in town, stop into Bacchus if you just want a selection of a hundred or so old familiars - they don't brew, but they have plenty on tap and in stock."

But, the part of his comment I really liked was this clever description of the difference between "hippy" and "hippie:"

"Incidentally, if you had typed 'hippy' you would have been saying something about the IPA's pelvic width rather than its social philosophy. I'm a writer living in New Paltz, so I need to know the difference between 'hippy' and 'hippie' for reasons of survival!"

Thanks, Terence.

4. In response to my November 5 post, "That Old Familiar Feeling," which of course was about the Yankees' World Series victory, Casey wrote:

"The Yankees make October more interesting. I hate them, and you know that. But last October just wasn't the same without them. I guess it is that I like seeing the Yanks lose on the big stage."

In a certain way, this really put it in perspective for me, and made me realize that it would have been that much better had the Yankees defeated the Red Sox in an epic seven-game ALCS on their way to the World Series, giving me hope that there still is something to root for. Casey then went on to say:

"Congrats to the Yanks."

That kind of sportsmanship is pretty unique in the world of the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry.

3. I love nostalgia, so I thought it was great when Joey Pants made this nostalgic connection to my June 30 post, "The Pride of Dutchess County," in which I wrote about the discovery of a monument to Hall of Famer Dan Brouthers in his hometown:

"Great post. As a Wappingers Falls native this is very interesting to me.

"I grew up playing Little League in Wappingers. Where exactly was Brouthers Field? We played on a field down Channingville Road, less than a mile away from St Mary's.

"Looking at the picture it doesn't look like the field I played on. Shame that it's gone."

2. In a September 22 post, I reminisced about a team I admired from afar, only to realize that one of my regular readers (Dan Day) had an up-close-and-personal experience with the 1982 Milwaukee Brewers, affectionately known as Harvey's Wallbangers:

"I'm a little late to be reading this post (and a number of others) but I thank you for it. Our young family was living in Milwaukee then, and I remember the series vividly. Somewhere in a shoebox I have photos of the Goodyear blimp making its way along the shore of Lake Michigan as it flew past our neighborhood on the way toward County Stadium.

"I'm pretty sure that Brewers logo was designed by a fan in a contest. Curiously, back then I thought it was kind of a cheesey (Wisconsin pun not intended) rip-off of the Montreal Expos logo (m-e-b, as in Montreal Expos baseball).

"Now, I am delighted whenever the Brewers wear the old-style pinstripe uniforms with this old cap.

"Thanks for dredging up some good memories."

Thanks again for sharing this memory, Dan.

1. In what was probably my favorite comment of the year, Lee called me out for referring, in my April 11 post about the new NESN guy, to New York Yankees' broadcaster John Sterling as a yahoo:

"Now wait just a goddamn minute...

"John Sterling's a lot of things, but he ain't no yahoo. Pompous? Sure. Effusive? OK. Bloviative? Of course. Blind-as-a-bat? Totally.

"It's dangerous to compare other broadcasters to Sterling, because he's not really a "broadcaster" in any common sense of the word—he’s about as objective as a silly straw. If you're tuning in to Sterling/Waldman for a description of the game, you're a lot better off with MLB Gameday."

Hilarious, although you might have to be familiar with Sterling to really appreciate it. Thanks Lee, and thank you to everyone who has commented on, or simply read, my blog this year.

Best of 2009

Before I begin the countdown of my top albums of the year, I thought I'd try something a little new. I'm going to hand out a few awards, by which I mean some "best of" designations in categories related to this blog. That's the important point here. To be eligible, there had to be some discussion of the award winner right here, on this blog, at some point this year.

So, without further adieu...

Best Brewery - Despite visiting some excellent brew pubs in Portland, Oregon in August, I'm going back to February and giving this award to Brewery Ommegang, Cooperstown, New York's fine purveyor of Belgian-style ales.

Best Beer - Although Ommegang Abbey Ale, Southern Tier Pumking, and several Oregon brews were contenders, Portland brew pub Old Lompoc's LSD (Lompoc Strong Draft) was the best new beer I tasted this year. It's too bad I don't know when the next time will be that I'll get a second chance to enjoy some.

Best Ballpark (Majors) - The new Yankee Stadium was great, but it really was hard to think about it in terms of how I usually feel my first time at a new park. It's pretty overwhelming, and although I arrived two hours early during my first visit, it was still very crowded and, therefore, difficult to take it all in. Rangers Ballpark in Arlington was everything I look for in a new stadium, and it was definitely my favorite of the four major league parks I visited this year.

Best Ballpark (Minors) - Since I called it "...the nicest minor league park I've ever visited," it goes without saying that the Portland Beavers' PGE Park wins this award.

Best Concert - According to this blog, I only count six concerts that I went to this year. It's possible there were a couple that I didn't write about, but that's still a pretty low number. There was a time when six in a month was closer to the average. Anyway, even in a year in which I showed further signs of slowing down, The Flaming Lips put on a show worthy of concert of the year status.

Best Road Trip - KJ and I went on a lot of great road trips this year. Plus, it's hard to imagine there could be a better trip than one that included attending a baseball game every night. But, although I sometimes took liberties with my definition of road trip here, our late May vacation in Georgia and South Carolina, particularly the Savannah part, gets the nod in this category. Just to set the record straight, it wasn't my favorite just because it was legal to drink in the streets, although that certainly didn't hurt. Probably the biggest reason was that, of all the trips we took this year, this one was to a place that was new to both of us.

I've got one more "best of" post in me before getting started on the countdown of the year's best albums. That post is going to be where I honor a few of my readers with a list of the best comments of the year. It should be an enjoyable look back at some moments that have either made me laugh, or simply appreciate what you've had to say.

Oktoberfest: The Finale

It might have been more fitting to title this post "Oktoberfest: The Letdown," because the end result of my quest is the realization that I simply don't like this style. I was disappointed with the offerings from otherwise solid breweries, such as Berkshire Brewing Company, Opa Opa and Geary's, although the latter was actually an Autumn Ale rather than an Oktoberfest. Another disappointment was that I was unsuccessful at tracking down Victory Festbier, the recommendation of one of my faithful readers. In fact, last weekend I went on their web site to try and locate stores in my area that carry their products.

Practically right down the street from me is Ball Square Fine Wines and Liquors, who had what seemed like every brand that I've ever heard of that Victory brews—including HopDevil, Prima Pils, Golden Monkey, Storm King Stout, Hop Wallop and Victory Lager—but no Festbier. In hindsight, I guess mid-November is probably too late for most fall styles, unless they're not big sellers and have been sitting on the shelves all season.

So, despite not getting to taste one of the fall beers that I most highly anticipated, I'm going to summarize. I honestly didn't find a single Oktoberfest that really made a positive impression on me. Even those that I thought were pretty good at first ended up wearing out their welcome before I'd even finished one, generally due to their overbearing sweetness. For that reason, I've come to a conclusion that's the beer-tasting equivalent of "it's not you, it's me." That is, I'm just not the right person to evaluate this style, because it's just not my thing.

That said, there were a few non-Oktoberfest fall brews that I really liked, so I'm going to rate my three favorites here. Unfortunately, you may have to wait until next September to get your hands on these.

Southern Tier Harvest Ale - Southern Tier Brewing Company is located in the village of Lakewood, in the southern part of western New York commonly referred to as the Southern Tier. I've seen their beers on draft around town occasionally, and even tasted their IPA before, but this fall they've become one of my new favorite breweries. This dry-hopped ale has a wonderfully hoppy aroma—unusual, of course, for a fall style—is nicely balanced and goes down smoothly. Grade: B+

Southern Tier Pumking - This one practically knocked me over with its powerful aroma, which is pumpkiny, of course, but also reminds me of gingerbread. At 9% ABV, you would think a brew of this variety would be overly sweet, but it's not. It's only a little hoppy, but that's just enough to offset its pumpkin-spiced sweetness. This is absolutely the best pumpkin ale I've ever tasted. Grade: A

Dogfish Head Punkin Ale - Not nearly as pumpkiny as Southern Tier, Dogfish's attempt at this style is a mildly spiced—with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg, as well as pumpkin—and mildly hoppy brown ale. In my experience, everything that Dogfish brews is excellent, and Punkin Ale is no exception. Grade: A-

Finally, here is the list of all the fall brews I tried this season (Oktoberfests unless otherwise indicated): Hacker Pschorr, Paulaner, Harpoon, Samuel Adams, Blue Hills Okto-brau, Southern Tier Harvest Ale, Gritty's Halloween Ale, BBC, Southern Tier Pumking, Shipyard Pumpkin, Geary's Autumn Ale, Leef Peeper Lager, Dogfish Head Punkin Ale, Opa Opa.

Down West

This is the unofficial third part of the brief "Unemployed in Vacationland" series of posts. If you haven't already, please go back and check out Part 1 and Part 2.

I had originally intended to write "Unemployed in Vacationland, Part 3," but since a few weeks have passed since part two, and since I'm no longer unemployed, I didn't think it would be an appropriate title. So, instead I'm going to do a post on a few beers from western Maine I had while there and those I brought home with me.

The first of these is Old Thumper Extra Special Ale. Created by British Brewer, Peter Austin, founder of Ringwood Brewery and mentor to Shipyard Brewing Company's master brewer Alan Pugsley, Old Thumper is a non-traditional English bitter. It has a nice, rich malty aroma. In fact, an under-the-weather KJ commented on this while she sat next to me on the couch playing Bejeweled on my iPod. It has a buttery, creamy mouthfeel and a mildly bitter finish. Grade: B

I'm not a big fan of Shipyard, so the fact that I give a rating that high to a brew even indirectly associated with them comes as a bit of a surprise. When I first came to Boston in 1997, el-squared turned me on to the locally brewed Tremont Ale. It was our beer of choice for quite a few years, and could usually be found on draft at most of our local hangouts. Then, in 2001, Tremont shut down their Charlestown brewery and contracted with Utica, New York's F.X. Matt Brewing Company, but eventually sold the brand name to Shipyard. It hasn't been the same since.

Shipyard's Export Ale and Chamberlain Pale Ale did a fine job of reinforcing my opinion about the brewery. Export Ale is their signature brand, which is hard to believe, as it has almost no redeeming qualities. On their web site, they describe it as a Canadian golden ale, and this is probably enough of an explanation. Why any microbrewery would want to emulate this style is beyond me. If I set out on a quest to discover the best Canadian beer, this would be a much more fruitless endeavor than seeking out really good Oktoberfests. [More on that one at a later date.] I've definitely had Export Ale before, and I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it always seems to have this not fresh taste to it. It finishes smooth—not that that's a raving endorsement—but, to be brutally honest, I'm really not sure if I would choose it over a Molson. Grade: D

Chamberlain Pale Ale is certainly better than Export Ale, but it's nothing to write home about either. So, I hope my dad is not reading this, otherwise that's exactly what I'd be doing. It's really just a mediocre pale ale, mildy hoppy but a little bland tasting. Grade: C

The India Pale Ale style is so named because the British discovered that hops are a natural preservative, so they added more to their standard pale ales so that they would survive long journeys to India, back in their imperialist days. In order to offset the increased bitterness this created, they also brewed them maltier and, therefore, stronger in alcoholic content. So, basically an IPA is a pale ale with extra hops and malt. An Imperial IPA is to an IPA what an IPA is to a pale ale. Geary's Imperial IPA is a good representative of the style. There's not much more to say about it, except that it's exactly what you'd expect. That is, very strong and very bitter, and very difficult to drink more than one or two of. Grade: B

There was also one beer from eastern Maine that I had with my lunch at a little place in Seal Harbor, on the southern end of Mount Desert Island. I never wrote about it, because I'd never heard of it, and was unsuccessful finding any information on the internet. So, for all I knew, the waitress had misidentified it as Black Bear Pale Ale, because all I could find was a British Columbia-brewed beer. Then, I persisted and discovered that Black Bear Brewery in Orono, Maine calls this offering Black Bear Pail Ale. It really is a nice hoppy ale with light citrus notes, so I didn't want to forget about it, but I would have to consider the alternate spelling to be a marketing no-no for an unknown microbrewery. Grade: B

Breweries Per Capita

As I was planning our recent trip to Bar Harbor, I got to thinking about what areas have the greatest number of breweries per capita. Of course, I assumed that, among major U.S. cities, Portland, Oregon would rank #1. But, what about New England? With Boston, as the largest city in the region, being pretty poorly represented, my focus was on smaller areas. So, I started trying to determine what county in New England has the highest rate of breweries per capita, believing that Hancock County, Maine—with three breweries and a population of just over 50,000—would top the list.

Hancock, of course, is the county that Bar Harbor is in. The process of trying to figure this out proved to be fairly tedious, and I have yet to finish it, but I'm pretty certain I'm correct about Hancock County. I'll get back to that little project eventually.

KJ and I were in Vermont this past weekend, checking out a potential venue for a pretty big party we're throwing next year. While there, we stopped in at a little place called Pleasant Valley Brewing in Saxtons River. We were a little unclear as to the reason—something license-related—but they're not yet serving their own beer. Still, we really liked the place.

Quite often, brew pubs are too posh, with more of a focus on atmosphere and dining experience than quality beer. Pleasant Valley was a no-nonsense blue collar place with a really friendly vibe. While conversing with the owner, he told us that Vermont has the most breweries per capita in the country. KJ was quick to defend her home state, but he stood his ground, claiming that while Portland has the most breweries, Vermont tops the list of states.

A little post-trip research confirmed that he was right. According to statistics released by the Brewers Association in 2008, Vermont—with 19 breweries and a population of just over 620,000—has one brewery per 32,698 people. Oregon has a population over six times that of Vermont, but their 93 breweries translates to one per 40,753 people, the third highest rate in the nation. Here are the top five:

1. Vermont
2. Montana
3. Oregon
4. Maine
5. Colorado

When we weren't discussing brewery statistics, we were tasting some of the local flavor. First up was Switchback Ale, described by Pleasant Valley's owner as the hottest beer in Vermont. It wasn't difficult to understand why. It's simply a very solid ale, hazy and pale to copper colored, slightly hoppy but excellently balanced. It wasn't advertised as overly strong, but both KJ and I felt a little buzzed after only one pint.

Later in the evening, while dining at the Old Tavern in Grafton, I enjoyed a McNeill's Dead Horse IPA, another excellent choice. True to the style, it's nicely hopped, but well balanced, although a tad higher on the hops side of the equation. To close out the night, we shared a 22 oz. bottle of McNeill's Firehouse Amber Ale, while watching game two of the ALCS at the Old Tavern's cozy Phelps Barn.

The Firehouse Amber is bottle-conditioned, which places it in the real ale category with Gritty McDuff's cask-conditioned Best Bitter. However, while low in carbonation, it didn't taste flat like Gritty's cask offering did. It was only slightly hoppy, but with some really tasty, caramel malt character.

This trip left me wondering what I was thinking when I called Maine the state that puts all others in New England to shame. Clearly, Vermont has something to say about that. Based on my recent experiences, I'm feeling partial to the Green Mountain State.