No need for much ceremony, I’d guess I drank somewhere around 700 different beers in 2012, and here are the best of the best.

As always, I’ve only included beers I tried for the first time ever in 2012, regardless of the year the beer was released. (Previous best beer lists: 2008, 2009, and 2010)

1. Hill Farmstead Society & Solitude #3
I love Heady Topper–my #1 in 2011–but this is the best Vermont IPA I’ve ever had.  Maybe even THE best IPA I’ve ever had.

2. Goose Island King Henry
A boozy barleywine aged in a Pappy Van Winkle 23 barrel? What could possibly go wrong? Only the fact I’ll never taste it again.

3. Evil Twin Imperial Biscotti Break
In the running for best coffee beer I’ve ever had.  Straight dessert.

4. Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek
The utter heights of Belgium fruit lambic, its cherry tartness making others tastes like a syrupy Lindemans.

5. Cascade Sang Noir
An epic American sour ale, so fucking tart and wine-y, even more complex.

6. Stone Ruination Tenth Anniversary IPA
Sixteen years since they started, Stone had one of their best years ever, and this was one of their best beers ever.

7. Avery Uncle Jacob’s Stout
Makes my beloved Bourbon County Stout seem a little thin.  Boozy and thick as a milkshake.

8. Allagash Coolship Resurgam
Brilliant American representation of a pure, unfettered, sourass gueze.

9. Thornbridge Kipling IPA (cask)
This UK-version of an American IPA is so dank and delicious, I nearly emptied this cask by myself.

10. Firestone Walker Wookey Jack
The best Black IPA EVER made.  Must be the rye.

Notables:

Avery Meph Addict
The Bruery Fruet
Captain Lawrence Hops N’ Roses
Cigar City Dos Costas Oeste - Grapefruit Wood Aged
COOP Territorial Reserve Oak Aged Barleywine Ale
Deschutes Collage Conflux #1
Uerige Doppelsticke (2008 vintage)
Evil Twin Without You I’m Nothing
Goose Island Bramble Rye Bourbon Brand County Stout
Mystic Cabernet Sauvignon Barrel Fermented Saison
Stone Fifteenth Anniversary Escondidian Imperial Black IPA aged in Lowland Scotch Barrels
XBeeriment Black Force One

Social media.

Where new brides annoy us with countless wedding photos.

New mommies annoy us with innumerable baby pics (Madison’s first poopy!).

And newly published authors annoy the shit out of you with pleas to buy their new book.

Not this time.

This is the one and only time I’m going to tell you about Drunk Drinking, just released on Amazon. It’s my collection of writings–mostly new, some old (but improved!)–all about that one subject we truly care about most. There are stories and essays about the drunkest par 3 public golf course in America, about the nerdiness of rare beer release “parties,” how one drinks alone in a packed bar on a Friday night, what a liquor cabinet should look like depending on your age, and one about a guy simply known as “the anti-game, self-inflicted cockblocking tourist.”

Twenty-two pieces in all, with one special bonus essay. Over 35,000 words you probably haven’t read before.

If you loved The Vice Blog, if liked How to Fail: The Self-Hurt Guide or The Cheat Sheet, you’ll dig Drunk Drinking too. Guaranteed. If you hated those, why are you reading my blog, weirdo?

Even better…want a free copy of Drunk Drinking?

For the next week (til July 20th), just write an Amazon review of either How to Fail here or The Cheat Sheet here, email me a link to that review (aaron@aarongoldfarb.com), and I’ll send you a Kindle, epub, or PDF file of Drunk Drinking.

Even better than that, for the one Amazon review that makes me laugh hardest, I’ll send you a “The Works” goodie bag full of autographed books and Goldfarb schwag.

Or you can just pick up Drunk Drinking for about the cost of sending five Third World children to college.

Even if you don’t buy, please share this on Twitter or Facebook. The more you share it now–this second!–the less likely am I to renege on my promise to never annoy you with the hawking of this book ever again. Or to start posting tons of baby pics on Facebook.

While at the great DBGB last night slip slidin’ the night away with the carpet salesman, I noticed a beer type of the like I’d never seen before:  a gin-barrel-aged brew.  Now, I didn’t even realize gin was made in barrels, but glad of it, because this beer was outstanding, a funky saison with a leafy, crisp botanical finish and just a slight hint of sourness from an additional barreling in pinot noir barrels (!).  Seems this saison is part of something called The Zymatore Project, as press-release-explained below:

The Zymatore Project is our endeavor to create liquids of unheard flavors and aromas that destroy the boundaries of beer, wine, mead, cider & spirits.

Using barrels of the highest quality and pedigree from acknowledged leaders in the wine & distillation crafts we take beers, meads & ciders to new and unexplored levels.

What may seem like unlikely combinations of liquids & barrels are designed to create new flavors & aromas that transcend conventional definitions.

Such quality makes it unique to be served to people playing casino games at classy casino floors. The unique blend of different flavors makes it a one of a kind product.

Now I’ve never had the base saison, heck, I hadn’t even heard of this brewery, but this is one of the more interesting tipples I’ve had this year, and it makes me want to seek out all the other intriguing offerings from “The Project.”  Which I most certainly will.

Of note, nerds on Beer Advocate–and Garrett Oliver no less (not calling you a nerd, good sir!)–have had a most interesting discussion about these beers.

A

Is this really the THIRD Annual “Boxes of Beer” Basketball tournament?

Time flies.

Good times have been had, and good beers have been won. Maybe this is your time.  Maybe this is the year you avoid the upsets and nail the winner. Maybe this is your One Shining Moment. Who knows, you could be walking around lucky and not even know it. A haul of some of the finest beer from around the country awaits.

Sign up today.

Password is “Beer”

Feel free to invite your friends, acquaintances, cell-mates, spiritual and religious advisers. The more the merrier. Email me if you have any questions.

PS If anyone has New Belgium Cocoa Mole bottles and wants to trade, let me know.

Now we all know I like my free shit.  And I get lots of it due to my celebrity status as a world-famous novelist.  More and more free shit coming every day, all from PR flacks that want me to write about it.  And, by “write about it,” they mean:  write exactly what THEY want me to say about it.

But, I’m an “artist,” and I have “integrity”–sorta–so I never bow to the man.  Though I do accept the free shit.  And…if I do write about a product, about some free shit, I write about it because I love it.  Such is the case with Espolon Tequila.

Now I’m not much of a tequila drinker–and it’s usually only the super high-end 100% agave almost-Scotch-like anejo that I drink when I do–but Espolon is one worth mentioning.  It’s just as cheap as the garbage swill college kids shoot, but it tastes so much better.  Soon as the college kids learn about it, Cuervo won’t exist any more.  Check it out at your finer getting-loaded establishments.

I also decided to make some PR-friendly cocktails with my Espolon in honor of Day of the Dead, whatever that is.  And, you know what, the cocktails were actually really damn tasty.  I tell you, those PR flacks can drink with the best of them, so when they say stuff is good–even if they have to–they’re usually right.  They know their (free) shit, and I thank them for it.

Try these cocktails below tonight when you get home from another miserable day at work (you should considering getting into PR…or, novel writing) and let me know how it goes:

Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), a holiday widely celebrated across Mexico and Latin America honoring the lives of friends and relatives who have passed, is gaining immense popularity in the United States. Each November 2nd, crowds dress in colorful costumes, don skeleton-like makeup, parade through the streets and erect decorative altars in remembrance of the dearly departed. The traditions of Day of the Dead are far and wide: pottery calaveras (Spanish for skulls) are painted bright colors, graves are adorned with yellow marigolds and glasses of Mexico’s national drink, tequila, are raised in celebration.

This year, to commemorate Dia de los Muertos, mixologists from some of the top bars and restaurants in Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York have created Espolón Tequila cocktails that stir up the complex essence and celebratory spirit of the holiday.

The following intriguing cocktails bridge Mexican traditions with modern mixology.
On Day of the Dead, make your way to these cocktail havens and sip a specialty Espolón cocktail in honor of those who have gone before.

If you need more information on Dia de los Muertos or hi-res images for the cocktail recipes below, please let me know.

Best,
Shani

About Espolón
Espolón Tequila is a super premium, 100% pure agave tequila, whose bottles are adorned with intricate Day of the Dead-style imagery. Inspired by 19th century artistry, the labels celebrate Mexico’s storied history and culture. Available in Blanco and Reposado, Espolón Tequila is a versatile spirit, perfect for sipping or mixing in cocktails.

The Procession
Created by Daniel Hyatt
The Alembic, San Francisco
1.5 oz Espolón Tequila Blanco
.75 oz White Crème de Cacao
.5 oz Ruby Port
.75 oz Hibiscus Tea, chilled
2 dashes of Orange Bitters
Orange Peel for garnish

Directions:
Shake ingredients together with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. For garnish, twist a strip of orange peel over the top.
Background:
In Mexico, hibiscus is a well-known ingredient, most popular in the traditional drink, Agua Fresca. Its striking color and slightly tangy bite add layers to this cocktail, creating a truly complex drink. The pink-red hue of this cocktail is one of the most vibrant colors you will see gracing the streets during Dia de los Muertos.

The Afterlife
Created by Jorge Guzman
Ofrenda, New York
1.5 oz Espolón Tequila Reposado
.5 oz Frangelico
.5 oz Lemon Juice
1 oz Chile Piquin-Cinnamon Syrup
2 dashes of Wormwood Bitters

Directions:
Shake ingredients together and strain into a rocks glass over ice. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Background:
The exotic spices in this cocktail complement the bold flavor notes and sweet tropical fruits found in Espolón Reposado. Essentially, the drink is a celebration of life and death. Both sweet and spicy notes in the drink echo the light and dark moments that people experience throughout their existence on earth. In the afterlife, these moments live on and continue to be celebrated.

Los Muertos
Created by Raul Yrastorza
Las Perlas, Los Angeles
2 oz Espolón Tequila Reposado
1 oz Fresh Lime Juice
.5 oz Apple Cider Vinegar Shrub
.5 oz Cardamaro Amaro
1 bar spoon Apple Butter Infused Agave Nectar
4 muddled Apple Chunks
Apple Cider Foam for garnish
Blackstrap molasses for garnish

Directions:
Muddle apple chunks in bottom of a mixing glass. Shake all ingredients together with ice and double strain into a rocks glass over ice. Top with apple cider foam and drizzle with blackstrap molasses.
Background:
During Day of the Dead, ofrendas (offerings) are given to the dead, and range from fruits to music, tequila, song and dance. Inspired by the open-air fruit and spice markets of Oaxaca, Mexico, this cocktail combines flavors of apple, agave and ground spice. It is - at its core - an offering, paying tribute to the dead in its combination of traditional gifts often left at altars.

{Hey- Mike here. Aaron gave me the keys to the castle.}

It’s official, we have another season of football. The exciting part is we have another season of our Boxes of Beer Football Pool. Same rules as last year,
suicide pool with two lives. You can use each team once and all you gotta do is pick a winner every week and you get lots of beer. Let me know if you
are in for this year.  Also, feel free to invite your friends, family, coworkers, spiritual advisers, parole officers, etc. as well. The more people we get the
more beer the winner gets. And we don’t need an Act of Congress to let us know more beer is better than less beer.

If anyone/everyone is on Google+ we can create a pool circle for some light hearted trash talking. If anyone needs an invite, let me know.

PS Don’t forget August 15th is National Failures Day. Celebrate accordingly.

PPS Our Editor-in-Chief, Aaron Goldfarb has had his book of short stories published in paperback. Go buy a copy, it’s funny.

A portion of the proceeds will be donated to the “Buy Aaron a Bottle of Utopias” (BABU) fund.

The beacon of lightly colored booze that kept us going night after night on my 30 Bars in 30 Days book tour was the frequent appearances of the special How to Fail Cocktail:

Bourbon, Grand Marnier, apple cider, and a splash of ginger beer created by noted DC mixologist Derek Wallace.

It was never stated in the recipe what was the “correct” bourbon to use and, no matter where we went–dive, upscale cocktail lounge, craft beer bar–we usually let the establishment’s bartender choose the booze.  Luckily, no matter where we went, all bars had the classic Wild Turkey and that’s what usually found its way into the cocktails.

Wild Turkey has some great literary roots.  It was the preferred drink of Hunter S. Thompson, makes frequent appearances in David Foster Wallace’s “Infinite Jest,” and there always seem to be a bottle lurking nearby U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens on James Ellroy’s “Justified.”

I’ve become quick friends with the good PR folks for Wild Turkey and they’ve turned me on to several varieties from the Wild Turkey line, most notably Russell’s Reserve, American Honey, and the Rare Breed.  I even had a bull session with them over Turkey and BBQ last night at Hill Country, surely Manhattan’s best BBQ below 125th Street.

American Honey

I won’t lie, I wouldn’t be caught dead drinking this in public.  But, truth be told, I’ve fallen for it.  PR flack Brian was quickly able to assess the kind of person I am as we talked about the podcast and radio interviews I give sometimes.

“You ever ‘pre-game’ an interview?” he asked.

Damn, if he hadn’t nailed me spot on.

I DO pre-game interviews.  I’m so much more interesting with a few fingers in me.  And, quickly, American Honey has become what I pre-game with.  Just a little.  It’s so sticky and syrupy that after a few pours the bottle cap will be nearly soldered onto the bottle.  Packed with a honey and caramel-y sweetness, it goes down easy.  Perfect for a quick mid-day quaff.  To be clear, it is not bourbon.  It is a bourbon-based liqueur.  But I really dig it.  And chilled, it’s a revelation, a perfect dessert libation to coat your insides and prepare you for bed.  Why are college kids wasting their time taking shots of Jager when this is so much better?

Russell’s Reserve

This 10-year-old small-batch bourbon is soooo easy drinking at 90 proof.  It’s even master distiller Jimmy Russell’s “everyday” bourbon.  Thick and full-bodied, vanilla and sugar cane with a little cinnamon-y zing.  I could drink this all night.

Oh, and I did.

Rare Breed

Rare Breed is a beast.  Surely the most reasonably priced barrel-proof bourbon around at a mere $35 or so.  At 54.2%, Rare Breed truly separates the men from the boys, but it’s not as hot as you’d think.  Toffee and honey, with a creamy rye finish.

After a few Russell’s Reserves and a dessert shot of American Honey, I came home for a nightcap, with a determination to invent my own Wild Turkey cocktail.

What can I say, I had no choice but to name it after my short story collection, continuing the tradition of a cocktail for each of my books.

The Cheat Sheet
Cocktail

*2 parts Rare Breed
*1 part American Honey
*a generous splash of bitters (I recommend Fee Brothers)
*garnish with a cherry if you have one around the house (you don’t, and I didn’t)

It’s like a Manhattan except replacing the wussy sweet vermouth with something a little more potent.

And, it’s amazing.

You might have noticed, I don’t exactly blog about beer that much any more.  I’ve been busy with my book(s) and have been doing a lot of publishing/marketing/shameless promoting/deep thinking blogging over here.

Sorry for alienating you, loyal Vice Blog fans.  I’m still drinking the good shit, and I’ll have much more to say about the good shit in the near future.  Promise.

Until then, a highly rare guest post.  The first in this site’s history I do believe.  Fan of the Vice Blog, and Boxes of Beer sometime commish, Mike came to me with a boozy piece he wrote and wondered if I’d post it.  Sure, what the heck.  It’s called…

ATM

There are few thing more exciting than standing outside a strip club waiting for it to open. Chubby’s was supposed to open at 4, but it was 4:05 and the door was still locked. Should I knock? It was clouding up, and I didn’t want to get stuck in the rain. I checked my bag to make sure everything was still there. The pink paint on the window frame near the door was chipped. I peered in and saw a few dancers sitting at the bar smoking and eating, tramp stamps galore. Nothing kills the fantasy faster than seeing your golden-tressed angel gnawing on hot wings and french fries. My Amanda would never do that.

The only other time I had been to Chubby’s was with some fellas from work. Bill from Accounting was getting married and we took him out for a pseudo-bachelor party. Most of us work friends weren’t tight enough with him to get invited to his “real” bachelor party, but we wanted to do something, seeing that he was the first one of us who was getting hitched. After buying Bill several drinks and dances the guys took off around midnight. I left with them but drove around the block and came back. I needed to get a dance with the raven haired beauty who was giving me eyes all night. After the fifth dance, Amanda (Not ‘Mandy’, she was classy in a way the other girls weren’t. And she had no tats.) cooed in my ear, “Give me your number, honey, so I can call you some time.” I obliged. She had the softest skin I had ever felt.

A few weeks after Bill’s party I was at my desk, finishing up both my weekly activity report and my third Mountain Dew when my phone vibrated with a text from Amanda. She wanted me to come see her at the club that night! I yelled over to my boss, “Mom’s got a doctor’s appointment, Brad, mind if I take the afternoon off and go with her?”

“No problem, sport, just get your activity report in on time and you’re golden. Oh, and did you get that virus off Bill’s laptop?”

“The virus is gone. Same one he had last time.” Poor Bill had the worst luck getting those computer viruses. “Thanks Brad. You da man!”

“Back at ya, dawg. Hope your mom is OK.”

I texted Amanda, “Ill b there, cant w8! ;-)”

Report finished, I put it in the bin marked “WAR” and scrambled out of the office. It was almost noon, so I figured I’d grab a quick bite and a haircut. I didn’t want to look scruffy for Amanda. I stopped at McDonald’s and gave my regular order. As I waited, I noticed my reflection in the chrome on the counter. I looked pale. It had been a long winter, maybe I should hit the tanning salon after my haircut? Why not, Amanda might like me even better with a healthy glow. After scarfing down my double cheeseburger, fries and vanilla milkshake, I made a beeline for the hair salon.

“The usual, kiddo?” Betty asked as I sat down in the chair.

“No, not this time. Give me whatever the kids are getting these days,” I took my glasses off and put them on the counter, “I have a date tonight.”

“You got it, hon.” She said as she cracked her gum. “I’ll give you the ‘Cool Guy.’”

“You gonna take her flowers.? Girls love flowers. What’s her name?”

“Hadn’t thought about flowers, but you’re probably right, I should take something.” I hadn’t been on a date in awhile and wasn’t sure of the protocol these days. Maybe a rose and a box of chocolates would be a good start?

“And her name is Amanda. She has jet black hair and really pretty eyes.” I could feel the butterflies in my stomach when I talked about her.

“What does she do? How’d you meet her?”

“I met her at a bar and she’s in, uh, sales.”

“She sounds great, your mother’s going to love her.”

Mom. I didn’t think about Mom. I hope Amanda doesn’t mind that I live with Mom. She needs me to keep up the house and living with her is saving me a few bucks with gas so high and the recession and all. Besides, Brad promised me a raise after my last review. Then I’ll be able to afford a place of my own. Maybe I’ll just keep that under wraps for the first date and see how it goes.

Betty finished and I left her a tip and headed for the tanning salon next door. I had never done this before, so I asked the pretty girl at the counter to get me set up. She showed me to the tanning room.

“You just put these glasses on and lie in the bed for 15 minutes, sweetie. Relax and listen to the music.”

“Should I take ALL my clothes off? Or can I keep my underwear on?”

“Whatever works for you, sweetie, go wild.” She dragged out the ‘i’ in ‘wild’ in a way that was really cute. Not as cute as Amanda, but cute enough.

“Uh, let me ask you a question.” I stammered as she headed out of the room.

“What can I do for you, sweetie?”

“If you were going on a date, what would you want the guy to bring you?”

“Well, I love flowers and chocolate, who doesn’t? My boyfriend just bought me a necklace. Like it?”

She pulled her shirt down some so I could see the necklace that dangled above her rack. It was an Italian Horn and it looked sexy against her golden brown skin.

“It’s an Eye-talian Horn” She grinned. “He got it for our one month anniversary because we’re both half Eye-talian.”

“Well, you know what I say, ‘There’s two kinds of people in the world: Italians and those who wish they were Italian’.”

“I looooove it, gonna tell Ant that one tonight when I get home.” She cackled and touched my arm.

“Gotta get back to the front, boss’ll kill me if he calls and I’m not up there. Have fun!” She winked as she wheeled around and left.

After my 15 minutes were up, I got out of the tanning bed and and checked myself in the full-body mirror. Awesome. A little well-done, perhaps, but not bad for my first time. Plus it will be dark at the club and the red should fade a little.

Next stop was flowers. The big question was should I get one or a dozen? Decided on a single rose and headed over to the chocolate shop to get some candy. As I left with my chocolate covered strawberries, I spied a small jewelry store across the street. A bell rang as I opened the door. The proprietor looked up from his gigantic sandwich and grunted hello.

“Do you have any of those gold Italian Horn necklaces?” I asked.

“Eye-talian Horns? Yeah, we got ‘em — $39.95 for the necklace on sale. Real gold plated, too. Nice stuff.”

He took it off of the display and handed it to me. “It will look good on you, fella.”

“It’s not for me, it’s for my girl.”

“She Eye-talian?”

“You know it- there’s only two kinds of people…”

“Yep, Eye-talians and dem dat wanna be Eye-talian.” First smile out of him.

Amanda was going to freak. The gold necklace would look incredible on her. Her tan was even better than the girl at the tanning salon. Time to head to Chubby’s.

Finally at 4:13 the door cracked open and a meathead in an Ed Hardy shirt grinned down at me. “Up and at ‘em early, champ? Enjoy the girls.”

Oh shit. I looked down and noticed my work ID badge was still attached to my belt beside my Blackberry. No need for that here, she knows who I am, I smiled to myself. I grabbed the ID and stuffed it into my pocket.

“Ah, is Uh-man-da here yet?” My voice cracked. I was nervous.

“Should be. She’s on tonight.”

“Thanks.” I palmed a five-dollar bill and slipped it to him. Like a player. “Can you get me a good seat, boss?”

He looked at me sideways. “Sure,” he chuckled, “Grab one up by the stage.” The DJ put on “Crazy Train” and announced the next girl.

I took a seat near the stage and set my bag of gifts for Amanda down beside me. I ordered a beer and checked out the floor show. A few of the other girls did their thing and then finally around five, Amanda came out. She looked amazing. Her long white gown was a perfect compliment to her flowing black mare. Her smoky eyes and ruby red lips were exactly as I remembered. “Girls, Girls, Girls” throbbed on the stereo. (As a child of the ’80’s I was loving the music selections.) My heart jumped into my throat. She must have noticed me as she started dancing. A wink, a smile, and off came the white gown. She worked her way down to a tiny red thong as the song ended. After gathering her things and some stray dollar bills, she headed backstage. A few minutes later I felt a hand on my shoulder and the scent of vanilla and raspberries hit me.

“Hey baby, enjoying the show?” She whispered in my ear. Her hair tickled the side of my face.

“Oh yeah. You’re the best one here!” My hands were shaking as I handed her the rose and box of chocolates.

“Thanks! I love candy.” She smiled. “Glad you could make it. We’ve been slow lately.”

“That’s not all.” I said. “Here, I want you to wear this.” I took out the Italian Horn.

“Wow you have great taste. Thanks sweetie. I should let you take me shopping sometime.” She ran her hand up my khakis.

“It will look perfect on you.”

“Yep. Maybe you can help me put it on,” she said as she pulled her hair up. “By the way, we’re doing a special, buy five dances, get one free. Wanna have some fun?”

My hands brushed against her neck as I clasped the necklace.. The first few notes from “Love Bites” sounded from the speakers.

“Absolutely.”

She took me by the hand and guided me in the direction of the ATM. Her hands were as soft as silk.

“Good thinking,” I said. “I need to pick up some cash.”

As I removed the hundreds from the machine, all I could think about was how great tonight was going to be.

Raging Bitch Belgian IPA

8.3% ABV

If it was socially acceptable, I would literally gnaw on hops. I would chew a Citra or a Centennial or a Cascade like a piece of gum if I could get away with it. Which is why I love beers that feature them. Raging Bitch (in addition to having an awesome name and even more awesome label artwork) puts the hops on full display with a nice tropical aroma and clean taste. There’s also a hint of spice. It’s an IPA that lets you know it’s got some Belgian in it. The 8.3% ABV is warming on a cool, rainy spring evening.

I don’t get too bogged down in ratings and I don’t pick up 36 flavors in every sip like some reviewers on other sites. My rating system tends toward the simple: Would I recommend it to you if we were in a bar? The answer is one hell of a yes. Go get yourself a six pack, stat. Put on some Warren Zevon or some Rolling Thunder era Dylan, Dr. Gonzo would like that. Pair it with spicy food, Cajun works nice, and tangy cheese. Or some chocolate covered strawberries.

South Beach is the land of skinny people drinking Coronas, skinny people drinking margaritas, and skinny people (or Nicole Polizzi) drinking margaritas with Coronas dumped into them (for real).  Now, any one with tastebuds should rightfully detest Coronas and while I can occasionally enjoy a tropical beverage on a hot day, I’m not sure why one would want to water down a fruity boozebath with 4% skunk beer.  As for me, even in the land of skinny people, when there doesn’t seem to be a decent craft beer in sight, I like to find the large bearded guys.  They usually know where the good brews are.  Even in craft beer wastelands, you can usually find an oasis or two.  I found one such spot on a recent trip to Miami:  The Abbey Brewing Company.

A tad off the beaten path–if the “beaten path” is Ocean Drive*–I located The Abbey Brewing Company.  Minuscule in size, it’s been standing proud on 16th and Lenox since 1995.  Dark and cool inside, brewmaster/owner/former New Yorker Raymond Rigazio is a seasoned pro, having homebrewed (and home-wined) since well before you drank anything halfway decent.

On my quick jaunt there last Friday, Raymond had two of his house beers on tap, both of which were sublime.

Immaculate IPA

The same recipe since ABC opened, it’s good enough that there’s no reason to change it!  Settling in at a solid 6.2% ABV, this brew uses three different kinds of hops but is balanced quite nicely, and flawlessly refreshing.  I could have slugged these all day.

A-

Father Theodore’s Stout

Now the last thing I wanted at 3 PM on a sweltering Friday, mere hours before I had to appear respectable (and standing) at my sister’s wedding, was a big bodied stout.  But, surprisingly, this 9.5% monster is light.  I don’t mean light in mouthfeel or body, it’s a full-figured gal packed with complex flavors of chocolate and licorice, I mean light in that typical boozy taste that plagues many imperial stouts.  I was stunned at its ABV, double-checking with Raymond just to make sure.  Dangerous.

A

The Abbey also has a dubbel and quad (which I hear is amazing), but neither was on during my visit.  Raymond makes small batches and only brews a few times a year so enjoy what you can get!  He also has several other taps from great breweries across America, an impressive bottle list, and solid booze and wine selections.  I would set up a permanent camp in this joint if I lived in Miami Beach, and hope to be back sometime soon!

*In the oddest comparison you’ve surely ever heard, Ocean Drive reminds me of Mulberry Street in NY’s Little Italy.  What with the cookie cutter menus, the aggressive maitre d’s, and the outdoor dining and waddling tourists getting in your way and making movement a struggle.  Then again, you rarely see the bottom ass curvature of modelesque women on Mulberry Street.

6.5% from a 750 mL

(I apologize for the sideways picture–my iPhone is fucked up.)

So…I write a novel, I’m feeling pretty proud about myself, about my career, and yet I keep hearing from people, I keep receiving emails:

“Why don’t you review beer any more?!”

I guess I thought novel > beer blog reviews in the world of writing and entertainment, but apparently, to many people, that isn’t the case and, in fact, I alienated many of my fans!  They didn’t care about my stupid novel (that took years to write), they care about my subversive reviews of craft beer (that take a few minutes to write).

Who am I to be the arbiter of my fan’s enjoyment?  Thus, I am back.  And, I plan to be back with new reviews every single week now.  My first “back” review, though, is of a great beer by some of my good friends in the industry, Nebraska Brewing Company.

Nebraska burst onto the scene in 2010 with two of my favorite beers of the year:  Hop God aged in Chardonnay Barrels and Melange a Trois, a tripel aged in, you guessed in, Chardonnay barrels.  Here’s another beer aged in Chardonnay barrels, this time using their Apricot Au Poivre Saison as the base.

Now, oddly enough, I’ve had all of Nebraska’s rare, high-end, and pricey brews–which, luckily, they ship to me, gratis–but I haven’t had that many of their regular line.  I was fortunate enough to finally try their IPA the other day and it is as good as anything on either coast, and last summer I sucked down plenty of the standard Apricot Au Poivre.  That was a nice little brew, but the chardonnay aging takes this one to a completely different level.

Flawlessly effervescent.  A slight tartness yet the apricot fruitiness comes through with just a hint of stinging black pepper.  I put back a 750 of this in about 750 seconds.  I was loving it that much.  Another huge winner from Nebraska that demands being searched for.  It still doesn’t even have a single review on Beer Advocate yet!  Come on people.

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Is Nebraska one of the best sour beer makers in America?!  Hard to say, there’s so many great ones and NBC doesn’t quite have as large of catalog (yet) as some other, older breweries.  But they might be the best Chardonnay-barreled beer maker around.  Or, damn close.  At the moment, I’d rank them 2nd to the American kings of the sour beer game, Russian River, who also favor Chardonnay aging.

Interestingly, just a few weeks earlier I tried a Russian River beer aged in these beloved barrels:

Russian River Sanctification

This is a 6.5% Belgian Blond aged in Chardonnay oak with 100% Brett added.  And, whoa!, is it a nice beer.  Perhaps the best-looking beer I’ve ever had.  Looks like fresh squeezed OJ with the pulp removed.  Not overly complex, but flawless in execution.  Tart, crisp, with the fruity taste of a nice white wine.  Not too sour, and totally refreshing.  A beauty.

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