Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Rock Bottom, Where Beer Lovers Go To Die
Early in our homebrew adventures--Andy and I, without quite knowing what we were doing, managed to brew up some sort of devilishly strong IPA--somewhere around 15% ABV and inky black in color. A few months down the line, it's become a nice enough beer for a first effort at something dark--the carbonation balances the depth out, and the cloying and heavy flavour has all but dissipated in favor of more subtle notes. But just imagine how a homebrew of such heaviness must taste after two weeks of fermentation. Horribly sweet, syrupy, and woefully undrinkable. Now imagine that you've just paid $4.50 for a pint of such filth. I did just that this Monday. It was my first day of jury duty, and being unselected by noon, I was granted a lunch break that lasted an hour and a half. "Great--I can have some beers, maybe get down to Bailey's" I thought to myself. Of course, being noon, Bailey's was closed, and my downtown knowledge is lacking to say the least. But then I thought to myself, "Josh, isn't the brewer at Rock Bottom on the board of the Oregon Brewer's Guild? And isn't the other big chain brewery in town, BJ's way more decent here than down in California? Maybe Rock Bottom wouldn't be too shabby of a place to try a beer--plus it's close to the courthouse." Thus, I set off on a wonderful beer adventure.
Upon taking my place at the bar, I glanced up to see a chalkboard sign promoting the limited release Belgian Porter that was now on tap. In retrospect, that I even would consider trying such a thing at a brewery with no other Belgian styles on the tap list seems asinine. But my sleep-deprived mind (jury duty starts way too early) quickly made wonderful associations with the Buffalo Belgian Stout, which I happen to enjoy very much. So, the 8.3% ABV Belgian Porter it was. What a mistake. The sweetness overpowered every other dimension to the beer--and while it might have been tolerable at warmer temperatures, served from a snifter or goblet, from a pint glass 'twas dross. Lacking intense carbonation, the beer simply tasted immature. There was no balance, no depth whatsoever--and it reminded me of tasting homebrew after a primary fermentation. The yeast characteristic was vaguely Belgian-esque, but again--how was I to tell? My palate was too overwhelmed by the intensity of the malt sugars. Perhaps this heaviness is meant to remind to uneducated drinker that the beer is slightly more alcoholic than the standard northwest brew--but to a seasoned lover of beer, it only serves to offend the senses. But hey, I did have to go back to jury duty, so I choked it down. I won't even go into the "palate-cleansing" lager I had immediately following. Oddly enough though, I'm fairly glad to have tried such swill--it makes every homebrew setback I've ever had so much less galling--for there is worse, far worse out there. It's just a damn shame that "far worse" has to be in this city.
Fuck you, Rock Bottom.
Upon taking my place at the bar, I glanced up to see a chalkboard sign promoting the limited release Belgian Porter that was now on tap. In retrospect, that I even would consider trying such a thing at a brewery with no other Belgian styles on the tap list seems asinine. But my sleep-deprived mind (jury duty starts way too early) quickly made wonderful associations with the Buffalo Belgian Stout, which I happen to enjoy very much. So, the 8.3% ABV Belgian Porter it was. What a mistake. The sweetness overpowered every other dimension to the beer--and while it might have been tolerable at warmer temperatures, served from a snifter or goblet, from a pint glass 'twas dross. Lacking intense carbonation, the beer simply tasted immature. There was no balance, no depth whatsoever--and it reminded me of tasting homebrew after a primary fermentation. The yeast characteristic was vaguely Belgian-esque, but again--how was I to tell? My palate was too overwhelmed by the intensity of the malt sugars. Perhaps this heaviness is meant to remind to uneducated drinker that the beer is slightly more alcoholic than the standard northwest brew--but to a seasoned lover of beer, it only serves to offend the senses. But hey, I did have to go back to jury duty, so I choked it down. I won't even go into the "palate-cleansing" lager I had immediately following. Oddly enough though, I'm fairly glad to have tried such swill--it makes every homebrew setback I've ever had so much less galling--for there is worse, far worse out there. It's just a damn shame that "far worse" has to be in this city.
Fuck you, Rock Bottom.
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