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May25

Duff beer is real. I dranked it.

by mynie on May 25, 2015 at 4:32 pm
Posted In: Uncategorized

Screen shot 2015-05-25 at 5.40.52 PM

On draft, obviously, at Universal Studios. Beer was surprisingly easy to find in and around the park, and while they didn’t have any knock-out selections there was some decent stuff scattered around.

But, you know, you got to get Duff. Ever since I was a little kid, when I first watched the episode where Homer goes to the brewery and get a DUI, I wanted to try it (which means I totally ignored the message of that episode, I guess, but such is the power of fine, imaginary branding).

Only Matt Groening said repeatedly that he’d never release an actual Duff beer because he didn’t want to sell a product that would hurt people. An Australian brewery got sued for making Duff in the 90s, and by the early aughts cans of their swill were going for over a hundred per on ebay. There’s a couple of grey/black market knock offs produced in Mexico and Germany but, again, they’re inaccessible unless you want to chance an international beer trade with someone who statistically is very likely to be a sex offender.

Thank goodness, Groening has come to his senses. Or he realized there’s some money on earth that isn’t his yet and so he panicked and allowed Universal to make this. Or, erm, to, uhh, contract this out to Florida Brewing Company, a brewer whose reputation maybe isn’t so good.

What connects did these guys have? If Universal had put out an open call to produce this beer, could you imagine how many revered or at least competent brewers would have jumped the chance?

Anyhow, this ain’t good. I guess that’s sort of the point, but it’s not even “not good” by typical BA, “MACRO BADMAN” standards. It’s more like the bad lagers churned out by mediocre brewpubs across the country, who all seek to produce a beer that appeals to girlfriends in 2003. “It’s like Bud Light!” the waitresses say, even though it’s much worse than Bud Light because at least Bud Light doesn’t taste like candle wax.

It starts off fruity and sweet–completely okay, but far off for the style. Then, quickly, it gets too sweet. The middle is syrupy, the finish is medicinal. Bit of an off taste, like it was made with extract syrup.

It’s hard to lager a beer. It takes a really competent brewer to do so effectively. Frankly, I would have greatly preferred it if they had been contracted out to AB. As is, I’m glad I can say I tried Duff, but even while sitting in a life-sized replica of Moe’s Tavern I couldn’t bring myself to order a second.

 Comment 
Mar12

Print game: Six Point “Hi-Res”

by Girth Brooks on March 12, 2015 at 3:40 pm
Posted In: Beer Reviews, Features

IMG_2418

7 A.M. Thursday. Sometime in 2008. I walk into a nondescript white building where I work–push my way past the doggie door to the right of the front desk, walk toward the layout room, another right, then into my office. My friend and editor, D, bloodshot eyes and all, sits behind an outdated iMac in the back of the room.

“Want a smoke, yo?” he asks.

“Let’s do this,” I say, nodding.

I throw my laptop onto my desk and we walk out into the layout room and outside through the back door. We stand outside and begin lighting up.

“You finished?”

“Got two more, gonna send ’em to B. I’m sure he’s gonna want some bullshit edits that add absolutely nothing.”

We were both reporters for a small weekly newspaper in South Texas. I’d been working there for a few months, D for a couple of years. We both went to the same high school, were both stellar journalism students for our UIL team, and had the same penchant for beer, cigarettes, 2pac, and college football. It was a decent job: D had hooked me up because I’d had absolutely NO plan post college and I’d just been rejected from the graduate program I’d really wanted. Our days consisted of covering whatever mundane stories happened in the Mission-La Joya-McAllen-and-sometimes-Edinburg area. I had the lovely beat of covering County Commissioners Court meetings, school board meetings, and city council meetings (of which one city council member accused me of having a vendetta against her–in a town of literally hundreds of people).

Monday’s through Wednesday’s were largely spent away from the office under the guise of “covering” our beats–often we’d stroll into work at 9, drop our stuff off and head to the neighboring coffee shop, shoot the shit and chain smoke for a couple of hours, then D would inevitably reveal that his dad had leftover fajitas at his house and it was about lunchtime. We’d head to “pop’s” house, eat, then head back to the office for a couple of hours then call it a day. The pay was crap, we had no medical or dental, but for me it was an ok stopgap until I figured out what I was gonna do with my goddamn life.

But Thursdays…holy shit. Thursday was when we went to print–invariably I would be up until 2 or 3 in the morning finishing that week’s stories, get a few hours of sleep, then head to the office at 6:45 to grind everything out. Morning panic–last minute edits, a ghost story that was “assigned” to one of us that neither of us remembered because it never fucking happened, and layout.

So again, it’s 2008–we were still literally cutting and pasting print onto a layout board. Making space for ads. Changing our ledes or headlines. It was so rushed that D and I would only take one morning smoke break as opposed to our usual 4. Double checking sources and quotes that we literally had saved onto our tape recorders but, fuck us, right?

Finally, we’d go to print sometime around 11AM or noon.

“Lunch?”

“Let’s do this.”

We’d proceed to pick up Jack in the Box, head to D’s, then start eating and drinking for the rest of the day. Friday’s were a wash where we’d get next week’s assignments from our boss while trying to keep from falling asleep, then completely check out for the rest of the day.

I think back to that point in my life with a melancholy fondness. Saudade is what it’s called in Portuguese. My family life was at peak complication for various reasons, but we were also very close. This was about the time I started really hitting the craft beers–every Saturday or Sunday we’d cook fajitas or steaks on the grill. What was once my dad’s grill was now mine after my parent’s divorce, so I took over grilling duties. It was my time to sit outside, blast my post-rock, and drink my beer. My mom would buy the meat and I’d go and buy the beer. At the time I was heavily invested in Pyramid’s Hefeweizen.

This Hi-Res brings back those memories–that sweetness that hits the front of your tongue while you look out over a sunny day. I would drive to the HEB on north Trenton because they had an excellent beer selection, then I’d drive through the surrounding neighborhoods looking at houses that I liked. Picturing myself living in them, inviting my mom and sister over on weekends, my dad on alternate weekends. Cookouts with the family are ingrained in me and it’s something I’ve sorely lacked while living in Indiana these past six years.

I still like looking at houses. I still envision a place that will actually be mine. And it’s still a warm feeling.

└ Tags: Hi-Res, memories, past lives, print game, Six Point
 Comment 
Apr30

Almanac: Farm to Barrel: Barrel Noir

by mynie on April 30, 2014 at 11:17 pm
Posted In: Beer Reviews

photo (4)

First off, this bottle is really hard to photograph. I dig the patent medicine aesthetic: it’s old timey and pretty but still slick enough to avoid any of the ultra-Caucasian Americana trappings that make, say, banjo music so revolting. But, still, there’s too much shit going on there to get it all in a single photograph, and I’m not gonna post a gif of a fucking rotating beer bottle.

Second, hi. We’re gonna try writing these again.

Third, this is a straight up blend! We need more of these, especially with aged stuff. It’s okay for beers to not taste like fire. Actually—call me crazy—but I almost think that a lack of burn and pain, ditching that whole Raw Whiskey thing that totally masculine dudes have recently embraced because it so well compliments their cigars and racism—I—I think that’s a good idea. It’s cool to show restraint, guys.

Fourth, okay. Part American imperial stout, part BA dark ale. The result is intoxicating, but since this is a 10% ABV beer that’s not necessarily an achievement. What we got here is a big BA beer that’s kinda sorta meek, which is nice. The barrel aged movement has gotten so out of hand that a beer’s character can now be judged by how intense it isn’t. No dick waving here (or, umm, tit waving, for the ladies).

Blending two beers allows for (gasp!) different flavors to compliment one another, as opposed to blotting each other out in a hail of fire and rage. Starts just a little bit burny, but that moves into a lightly vinous dark ale middle that’s part peppery alcoholic, part lightly sour porter malt. Things smooth out into a finish of vanilla that’s backed up by a light whiskey burn and then a long, lingering aftertaste of dry hops.

Darn good. Not perfect, but darn good.

└ Tags: Almanac, Barrel Noir, Beers with too many words
 Comment 
Dec06

Green Flash Double Stout

by dustine on December 6, 2013 at 10:33 pm
Posted In: Beer Reviews, Lifestyle Guide

green_flash_double_stout

Oh boy, a beer that’s available virtually anywhere! First time in quite a while writing one of these and you choose something really special. (Also why are you talking about yourself again, this is about the beer? You’re creeping yourself out!) Well actually, this selection would be sort of an anomaly if not for the fact that it’s -40 F or something outside right now. Normally (which means everyday) when I go to the liquor store my withdrawal symptoms kick in and I rush out with whatever trusted IPA has a bottle date on it. And with Surly Abrasive out right now at the bargain price of $18/4pk, resisting these urges has become even more arduous. This habit has afforded me a close-minded avoidance of most other beer styles.

Enter winter, the only good reason for climate change. Now, I’ve already covered my moral objection to winter on this blog here as well as contacted my local legislative representative to finally get something done about this piece of shit menace who keeps stealing my newspaper. So I’ll just keep it simple and start by saying that when it’s real fuckin’ cold out, for some reason, us peoples are all programmed to search out taunting reminders of warmth, e.g. roastiness, hence why I chose today’s Green Flash Double Stout.

This 8.8% bastard’s dark chocolate scent, palatably reminiscent of powdered chalk, luckily suggests that the fix for this subconscious need will soon be provided. And lo, how it is so! (I’m almost finished with the glass at this point so most of these sentences won’t make any sense) Bitter roast up front, Rolo middle, and a dry coffee end. Warmed up, an innocuous fusel alcohol comes out as the chalk gets transmuted into wood and the mouthfeel is smooth despite its appearance of respectable (for a stout) carbonation.

Good job Green Flash, you did what we paid you to do.

└ Tags: bullshit, Green Flash, stout, winter
 Comment 
Dec05

Surly/Three Floyds “Urine Trouble”

by mynie on December 5, 2013 at 11:49 am
Posted In: Beer Reviews

urine trouble

Hur hurr I bet those dudes at FFF actually peed in this and everyone’s enough of a sheeple that they’ll pretend it’s good hurr hurr.

Fuck you. Know what? I am that sheeple, man. I’m covered in wool and shelties terrify me. Was I born in a barn? Please. I’d have killed to have a door that I could have left open all the time. You insult this beer, you insult my people.

I tried a glass of it at the brewery in like june and I said to myself “there’s a beer that could use some aging.” And, again, here the BA moron denizens will start chastising me because, dude, you aren’t supposed to let a DIPA age. But—ha—it turns out that you freshness queens are the real sheeple, because not all double pales are meant to be canvases upon which hops explode. Sometimes, the yeast and brett are meant to take center stage. And when that happens, drowning out a bit of the beer’s intentional cat-pee nodes makes it much more interesting.

Tastes like a barnyard, which is good. Previously it tasted like a petting zoo, which wasn’t as good. Tart berries, ripe fruit, pineapples, and hay. Now is the time to open yours up.

└ Tags: FFF, Indiana, Minneapolis, Surly, Three Floyds, Urine Trouble Review
 Comment 
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