Sip of Sunshine

Seth and I became fast beer friends. Our competitive sides have emerged through beer, specifically, which one tastes best. It's not a Floyd Mayweather and the guy who head butted him type of competitiveness. It's the friendly kind. But it's real. I learned this early. My wife Heather knows Anna, Seth's wife. Heather likes to introduce me to husbands, but fortunately not every husband. She has a pretty good sense of which husbands I will like and which ones I'll be nice to. Seth fell into the category of a "couple find" for Heather. And as usual, she was right.

Seth and I see eye to eye on a lot of things. So much so, he invited our family to his ski house in Vermont despite the fact that I've skied once in my life. But I merrily went because I don't mind falling down in snow AND because I knew a showdown was coming.. 

Seth and I had that type of I know that you know conversation about beer the first time we met. It turned into a raid of his fridge and a night that eventually ended on the subject of bourbon (which I take way too seriously). He introduced me to Michters (one of the original American bourbons) and I told him all about Widow Jane (New York made-don't judge) that is a hot newcomer the bourbon scene. 

The invitation to Vermont led me to Treehouse, the current pound for pound craft beer champion. I secured all I could get, 12 cans of two of their varieties and figured I'd shock Seth into beer submission. I'd be in his house, probably using his skis and have won. But Anna found out that I went to Treehouse and told Seth who mobilized to acquire a variety of the best beers Vermont has to offer. And when it comes to traveling with beer, Vermont crushes Connecticut. So when I got to Seth's place, he wasn't just ready, he was armed.

The first thing Seth says is he heard I went to Treehouse and proceeds to open the refrigerator which is stocked with an array of cans I'd never seen before. And he went for the home run in his first at bat by forcing a can of Sip of Sunshine into my hand. I had to hold back my laughter. The can is a groovy yellow and it's produced by a group that describes it's beer as "fine liquids." What is this crap? But I knew Seth wouldn't have opened this day up with something low rent even though the can gave me flashbacks to sucking on helium balloons and eating yummy yummy grilled cheeses in a nondescript parking lot before the Grateful Dead show. 

Never judge a beer by it's can. Sure the beer might have been brewed by Cheech but it's possible that Chong knows what the fuck he is doing and in the case of Sip of Sunshine, they beyond know what they are doing, in fact, I'm not sure I've had a beer I like better. 

The can demands that I "pour it mindfully and inhale it deeply." Again, cut the new age Bullshit. I get it, the beer is good, so good you might forget you drove your SUV to your second home in a upper crust ski village. It also tells me that I will be "enjoying a tropical vacation in a glass." No I'm not. I'm in Vermont. It's never a tropical vacation in Vermont. 1) There are no black people 2) Am I seriously ordering a whole red snapper baked in Carribean spices in Stowe Vermont. No I am NOT. 3) I'm skiing right now. The genius of the Jamaican bobsled team is the absurdity. 

But I did pour mindfully and they were right about that part. There are a lot of bubbles, almost like the skim over the clear blue Carribean waters Mon. The aroma is intoxicating. I don't think I've ever had a beer that wasn't clearly marked with "This thing is made with fruit" that had a better natural smell. It was tropical: passion fruit, sweet grapefruit, mango. It was almost a magic trick. 

The color of the beer is burnt orange, but be careful, the pour can turn it quickly into a giant glass of head. 

It's smoothness is what really tuns this thing into a lollapalooza. You can taste all of the fruits and it becomes refreshing in a way beer rarely can be. I felt like I was at some Marriott breakfast buffet in St. Thomas. 

And then there is the kicker, this little groovy fruity smoothie packs a whallop: 8% alcohol. So I finally get it. Drink a few of these and suddenly that can maaaaaannnnn is starting to make a lot more sense maaaaaaannnnnn. 

The big news was Two Roads, my favorite emerging behemoth in Connecicut is distributing Sip of Sunshine for the Brewers who are originally from central Vermont, a town called Warren. So it appears I'll be able to have as much Sip of Sunshine as I want. 

Round one, Seth by split decision. But I have a feeling the rematch is coming soon. One day, remind me to tell you about the party at Seth's house where we drank so many different beers between 4-6PM, I had to hold in vomit so my children couldn't see how drunk Daddy got. 

City Steam Innocence

I'm biased here. Tyler is my friend and because he's my friend I got into drinking "his" beer expecting to like it and laud it and talk about how life changes when you drink it.
Tyler's dad Ron Ronald (not making that up) is a dude among dudes. Ron Ronald hosts an annual Octoberfest at his chateau (not an exaggeration) in West Hartford and my family has been lucky enough to be invited 4 years running. The yard behind the chateau surpasses all expectations of a backyard on your typical suburban street where property is under a half acre. His chateau opens up to an actual beer garden with what could be but isn't lighted path, perfect substations for food and beer and pours out into a larger then usual, yet privatized back area that is perfect for the random fire pit or the inevitable 7 year old games of chase with sticks.
Ron likes to drink. He'll have 4-7 taps running in this back yard, a full table of whiskeys and wine and when I say full, I mean the glass is literally covered with bottles. And if you want to hang out inside, the kitchen has 3 taps running too. Ron has that good times look to him, the kind where it appears like he went to a house party in 1976 and never left. He's the original LMFAO, except that he's white, doesn't wear neon glasses and isn't faking a second of it.
Ron's friends are characters too. My favorite is someone who either goes by "Bull" or "Rhino" or something like that. He's rotund, smiley and has the perfect Octoberfest handlebar mustache. He also likes to sing traditional European drinking songs (or I just made up that part of the description of them). But doesn't Just want to do it, he wants to be asked. At some point around 4:35 PM, you'll hear "Bull" loudly pronounce that he just can't sing today and it takes about 13 seconds of light arm twisting for him to be warmed up enough to belt out some German jams. And he's for realz good, so by the time he's gotten his just due of "please please pleases," he's singing.
Bull and his other pals also cook, like homemade freshly ground kielbasas that are ridiculous.
In all, Ron Ronald and his son Tyler and all the people who congregate at Ron's house define good people, fun people.
Ron is a part owner of City Steam Brewery in downtown Hartford. It's a huge space connected to a hotel that probably was killing it when the Whalers played a block away but now caters to those who actually hang out in downtown Hartford. And that scene ain't what it used to be.

Tyler is the type of guy who didn't fall far from the tree. He's a free spirit, fun and interested in good beer. He and I have discussed my dream of having a destination brewery in a mountain setting. A vineyard experience for beer lovers. We brew, we bring in our favorites, we hang out. The problem is, I don't know anything about the business of making beer let alone the actual process of making beer. All I know is I like drinking it and being in nice places when I drink it. So Tyler said to come with him and he proceeded to introduce me to Sam, the new young brewmaster at City Steam. Sam objected to the particular glass I was enjoying and demanded I try his IPA that he recently created for the brewery, Innocence. It was great. He was lit. We talked. Upon Tyler's pushing, he agreed to let me come to City Steam one day and watch him brew and I did and it was fascinating.
He explained the process, the science behind it. I saw the grunt work of the cleaning process and we talked about why having your own pub selling your own beer is about the only way to make my kind of real money worth being in the beer business. Cool. I'm not trying to become a subsidiary of Miller. I just want the coolest brewery spot in the Shenandoah Valley.
So I'm biased because Ron, and Tyler and Sam and their crew are cool and fun and nice and generous and they also happen to make some of the best beer in central Connectciut. Sam was right, his creation Innocence, an IPA might be the best of that bunch.

It's light and crisp, the hops come way late in this one and stay with you. It's got quite a bitter edge to it. But Sam openly admits he loves hoppy beer. The hoppier the better so apparently he's putting his beer where his love is. The bitterness washes away quickly though leaving you almost refreshed. In that regard, Innocence felt a little like drinking sparkling water, but clearly packed with flavor. It has a strict beer aroma and is bronze in color. The pour I gave it left me with a pretty good head but that said there is a trick to Ron's taps that took me three years to figure out or end up with a glass of foam. All in all, Innocence was great.
City Steam's signature beer, The Naughty Nurse, (I know, amazing name) is distributed pretty widely in the area. So City Steam, while a landmark is also a pretty good purveyor. And if you stop in or happen to find yourself with one of their beers, in particular Innocence, you'll thank me.

EvilTwin Nomader Weiss

I'm having this beer at a sushi spot in the hip part of Louisville on the eve of the Kentucky Derby. The word "hip" is being used loosely here, but that's not meant to piss all my Kentuckian friends off. I don't know whether Kentuckian is a word, but it should be as in: I might as well have a doctorate in bourbon and horses which makes me an honorary Kentuckian.
Anyway, the day was spent at Churchill Downs scanning the fashion and races through some cheap RayBan sunglasses that I borrowed from a woman. Long story.
I was there for work with the Jockey Club which is the marketing arm of big time horse racing. Here's the link to what we came up with from the 2016 Derby the following day.

https://www.americasbestracing.net/videos/2016-abr-wired-bram-weinstein-kentucky-derby

OK I'm done giving you the me me me me crap. So we're at a place that specializes in sushi and other moderately Asian items. So I'm concerned the people I'm with are not culinary experts. It's hit or miss in this sport. A friend described a Derby through the lens of Hall of Fame jockey Mike Smith by saying it's the only event where you can meet the Queen of England and Ron Jeremy outside a pot-o-potty. The last part happened this past Saturday.
The group I'm having dinner with swore by this place even thought the menu demanded you have to save room for the tempura friend Snickers bars.
Look, I'm thinking about seersucker suits and smoking expensive cigars. I'm in no mood to slum it Kentuckian style.
And the beer list scared me. I think I mentioned in a previous post that I almost can't eat sushi without beer and in most cases, some kind of Japanese fare. The list I got had a bunch of craft things which suggested this place was so scatter brained it didn't know it's audience. Who thinks the perfect meal is  a rainbow roll, deep fried Twix and a Miller High Life?
I did recognize one brewer, which as those who travel know becomes unusual when you aren't in your region of expertise. I was in Cincinnati one night and had a beer by Rhinegeist and it was great. I assume I'll never ever see it again.
But my eyes stopped on the EvilTwin who makes insane beer out of Connecticut and the one I landed on was one I'd never had. The Nomader Weiss.

I'll get to the EvilTwin's Gose soon, but let me just tell you that one of his major partners Two Roads in Stratford CT is becoming a force. And if the EvilTwin has made it out to Kentucy then it's possible my beer neighbor is about to go global.
As for the Nomader Weiss, while I'll describe it as good, I have to admit was nowhere near the level of great I'd come to expect.
The Nomader Weiss had no head on it and the can (bizarre looking to start with) demands that I "store it in the dark."
It actually kind of tasted like a cheap champagne, like Brut or Martinellis sparkling cider that was on the verge of going flat.
It was a touch sour, almost Granny Smith Appleish (I don't know if that's a word either) and was really crisp like you just bit into it.

The can instructed me also to drink this "when I'm near Madsion Square Park in New York." OK, well, um I'm in Louisville, eating sushi after spending the day hallucinating that I'll one day own the Derby winner.

As far as the EvilTwin goes, maybe I needed to drink this at night in the NYC Park, because otherwise I'll be inclined to pass on this one for another variety. Or maybe it's just that I was in Louisville, eating sushi (and the tempura friend Snickers bar) after spending a day wearing women's glasses pretending I'm going to be one of the sport's kings.