Summer Solstice Cerveza Crema

Summer Solstice Cerveza Crema
Anderson Valley Brewing Co.
Mendocino, California

In my younger years I was a map-treader and got out to California a handful of times in a few short years in search of the great Jeffers. From Barstow to Big Sur up to San Francisco I roamed, slept in transit under the redwoods and chased the shore looking out from the Carmel River into the wild Pacific. A true idiotic wanderlust. Now I'm more like a mid-career Bob Seeger song lamenting late-coming knowledge. Truly, I don't think it's knowledge but rather all the chemicals in the diet pop killing the neurons and making me ever duller than I was when I was a young old curmudgeon. Yeah, so I kind of miss California now and then. More so the natural beauty than the adventure and certainly not the poetry of it all. This beer does not remind me of any of the aforementioned. It does give me pause to contemplate the cream ale though and methinks it's just goddamn swell. Better than the Sleeman's Marvelous and Stingy Cream Bum Ale I had several years of moons ago and found pleasurable enough to mow the lawn by. Today is not that day and summer has not yet sprung but the breezy light satisfaction from this drink is an umbrella of refreshment in a blister-fucked world. Let me put my feet up and kick my sandy toes up towards the sun. No no, you rest, I'll order us another and some waffle fries to boot. It's the yeast I could do, Solly.

-Wörtwurst

Lagunitas Cappuccino Stout

Lagunitas Cappuccino Stout
The Lagunitas Brewing Co.
Petaluma, California

The Andy Warholesque coffee mug (or perhaps it's a facsimile: I'm not really concerned with accuracy here) juxtaposed with a fine bottle of Lagunitas coffee stout and a corkscrewed bottle opener might make you wonder what the hell has gotten into me but it shouldn't. Like Howard Beale I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore. I guess I'm not really mad but more underwhelmed by the craft beer movement than most of you probably are. The truth be told: I don't really care two shits less about beer. I drink it to blog. If I could think of something else to blog about that took less ability and desire then I'd do that. I'm merely lampooning the trend despite the fact that I do enjoy the bottles and the labels. Which stands to reason why I don't care to pay outrageous amounts on this pseudo-hobby.

No, I'm not going off on a tangent just yet. It's more a response to a recent post by the Appellation Beer blog concerning the continuing upward trend of prices for craft beer. The acceptance of these mounting costs for a brew and the seeming insouciant nature of craftees on plopping down $10-$20 for a single beer sort of repulses me. Decadence aside, the flippant nature towards disposable income is a bit alarming. I mean, is beer really that important to you? It's an afterthought to me so I'm quite dumbfounded by cross country trips for a beer fest and paying $50 to enter a festival and sample new beer. Truly it's bizarre.

Anyhow, recently I decided that I'm not going to try beers that are excessively priced regardless of their appeal. Sure, I might break the rule for something exceptional but for the most part I'm going down the Depression Era road towards economics and supply and demand.

Being an avid listener of Coast to Coast AM and not really believing too much in coincidences I found it quite amusing that I should find these affordable classics and new arrivals in the craft movement awaiting for me today at a local grocery store. I was merely driving past the place and suddenly decided to stop in because I wasn't much in the mood for a Belgian (which is all I had in the fridge) on a day that the Hall of Fame legend George Kell passed away. A blue collar ballplayer perfectly compliments the blue collar intellect of Detroit and its satellite cities.

Ironically enough, when I arrived home and plopped down to the computer and read Jay from The Hedonist Beer Jive's commentary on why he wasn't going to pay $24 for a bottle of Consecration, I wasn't surprised that he also mentioned Lagunitas: "to say nothing of a $3.99 22-ounce Lagunitas beer, for instance. It wasn’t because it was a “workingman’s beverage”, no sir –". A brewery that I had earlier decided would encompass parts of my next purchases due to their affordability.

As for the beer itself: a fine farking stout with a just right amount of quality coffee, a strong creme-malty spine and a perfect slight affect of hop element that puts a fine detail on the beer but not an overwhelming stamp. God bless the $4 bomber!

All apologies for the lengthy and unnecessary post.

-Wörtwurst

Bierjue Classic Dark Beer

Bierjue Classic Dark Beer
Rinkuškiu Alaus Darykla
Lithuania

This esoteric Lithuanian strong lager has more faces and permutations than even the Annunaki do. Its 8.0% sash gives no clue that you're about to partake of parts of a pumpkin beer, a bock, a very weak scotch ale and something fermented to the point that it's almost alcoholic apple cider. Moreso a caramel apple maltburger cider with the menthol essence that many high abvs have. It's neither great nor distasteful but seems to be uniquely faceless but interesting enough to personalize but not glamorize, which is just like the rest of us simpletons in this world of shape-shifting white martian lizard people.


-Wörtwurst

Short's Bellaire Brown Ale

Short's Bellaire Brown Ale
Short's Brewing Co.
Elk Rapids, Michigan

While you green goobers are out making hay and haymaking your livers on St. Patty's Day, I am here pontificating the betterments of brown beer. Wow, this one hits the mark where most browns fall flat. The malt still carries the day here but it's the types of malt which separates this from the vast majority of typical brownies. A smokey chocolate affect melds to the traditional caramel body with minimal hop intrusion. Clearly what a brown should be even in a green eyed world bedraggled to its bloody depths. I'm starting to think that Michigan is not only the brewing capitol but also a drunkard's paradise. Drink up harpies and harpoonists and sail ye seas with yer greens and barleys.


-Wörtwurst

Pandora's Bock

Pandora's Bock
Breckinridge Brewery
Denver, Colorado

It's been a long while since I've conjoined my lips with both Breckenridge and the bock style. It has been too long! Fuck, shit, hold on...I just read this off of Beer Advocate concerning this brew: S - Barn and medicinal, with some malt mixed in. What kind of pecker rubber says this sort of thing? Considering that a barn can house anything from moonshine to cattle and old cars I think it's a terrible S description. What's this S malarkey? Smell? When did beer drinkers take off their four day gruff and start wearing ballerina slippers and prance to the tingling music? Pffft. Let the more elegant sex do the dancing and give any reasonable thoughts you have to your life and not the beer which takes up an hour or two here or there. Anyhow, if this were a barnyard beer I'd say it smells like sweet and sour chicken and and and...forget it. These pecksniffs have ruined the mood. It's a solid beer in any style, has excellent bottle art and a fine play on words. Maybe it's just me but the chick on the bottle is almost as hot as Erin eSURANCE.


-Wörtwurst

Hirter Morchl

Hirter Morchl
Brauerei Hirt GmbH
Austria

I bought this one thinking that it would be a mid-grade and affordable dark beer ($2.49 for a 16.9 oz mini-bomber) but it's much more than I expected. Caramel and roasted malts, lightly spiced wit' da hopz and organic as a percolating fishtank teapot. No, that's a good thing! A full-bodied medium taster with a presidential bottle and cap. Kind of what we expected from our first supposed brutha president. Let me tell you, that guy ain't no Frederick Douglass and this isn't a craft beer, it's a staple in your meat barren refrigerator. Get out your best pair of falsies and start chompin'.


-Wörtwurst

Krušovice Cerne

Krušovice Cerne
Královský Pivovar Krušovice a.s. (The Royal Brewery of Krušovice )
Czech Republic

I'd like to say that my senses go beyond the xenophobic machismo of home bred tastes but it's probably not true. That's not to say that I am an American first person because that's certainly not true. I guess I just don't like people and places in general. Let's be honest here...I'm trying to sound philosophical about why I bought an imperial foreign schwarz over an American crafter and it all comes down to being sensibly cheap. If I'm going to pay $3.75 for one Dogfish Head Peche then I might as well buy the whole 4 pack for $3 and change more, right? Wrong. I don't need 4 of any beer. So I went with the Krušovice Cerne over the D.H. P. and some Polish lager and forsook my heritage and my homeland for the Afro-European dream. If you've had one schwarzbier you've pretty much had them all with variances of toastiness, chocolately malts and crossbred ale-stout features. This is no kinky afro my friends and I ain't twistin' your melon man!

- Wörtwurst

Blind Pig IPA

Blind Pig IPA
Russian River Brewing Co.
Santa Rosa, CA

The last of the Hedonist Beer Jive Five.


Welp...I finally did it. Nope, I didn't enjoy a hoppy beer! I broked [sic] my speaking picture video camera in a playground sliding accident with my beloved baby cherub daughter and so you get really lo-fi quality video instead of just so-so low-fi video. It's odd though because I didn't even care. Things are happily carefree when I am with the little one and such things don't matter to me. Maybe I can take that same attitude with IPAs. Even though this is a pretty good example of the style I am thankful to be down to the last beer from the long overdue to be drunk stash. Now I can go buy that special mixed six crafter of blondies, stouts and porters. Plus, hopefully my pal Beardsley Rummel Jr. brings that Wisconsin gift pack of brews he keeps promising to grace me with. Oh yeah...the beer: a wishy washy blonde skunk with a slice of citrus cake. Ah- the high life.


- Wörtwurst

Grimbergen Blonde Ale

Grimbergen Blonde Ale
Brouwerij Alken-Maes
Belgium


If you can forgive me the Aztec motif on the showcased glassware then I can set aside the fact that you are a beer schwantz. Otherwise, I'll have to start making excuses (which are all true) that my tulips and chalices are all packed away in boxes or Cerberus swept in on a wave of mutilation (forgive me Sir Chucky Thompson) and splintered them all to shards with his soul-eating snout. Let us stop clasping each other's bung here and get on with it: I don't like you and you don't like me and we are all together in not preferring this brew. While no table beer or a macro staple this is clearly not a top-line Belgian. The sweetness is minimal in that it is more a yeasty, bready sour in a champagne kind of way. In essence: there but not there. The body is svelte, thin as wax paper and sans breasteses. Not to be shone through but hardly to be reflected off of and beyond. The beer cap, however, is of the finest quality and the bottle trails closely behind. Both are the reasons that I bought this one. That I have the cap in my collection is reason enough not to step forth again with this sucker into the free market of exchange.


- Wörtwurst

An Interview With the Hitachino Owl

It's a growing trend in the beer blogging community for the writers to take a professional attitude towards their webpage and this includes interviewing brewing heroes. Well, since I am uncouth, don't know Japanese and wouldn't want to impose myself upon the makers of Hitachino with my ambling ignorance, I've taken the extraordinary step of questioning the Hitachino Owl on his passions in life, what it means to be a stop-gap between sanity and drunken jabber and the hassles of super stardom. Here's a sample of our fireside chat:

LAGERHEADS: Prost!

HITACHINO OWL: (gives me the finger; well...the wing as it were)

LH: We've both been busy with other pursuits (Well, I have anyway [I've found that you don't say these kind of things to the owl]). What does your return to the beer blogging scene, and more specifically here at The Lagerheads, mean to you?

HO: I back and in molesting mood.

LH: The craft beer industry has seen an immense rise in visibility of their product over the past five or so years. Do you think online bloggers have contributed to this trend. Or is it more simply a matter of better taste?

HO: I stab you eye, foo.

LH: Supposing that success is 84.67% perspiration 11.21 perspicuity and undoubtedly 4.12% pure luck, what are the intangibles involved that lend to these finite numbers and their predictability?

HO: I gib blood in da clawz.

LH: Yes, yes...blood to the cause! You surely contribute much via sweat equity.

HO: I gib shit. I say blood in clawz.

LH: So, now that we've covered the basics, how about we delve into the curiosity which is Hitachino. Whereas the Red Rice Ale is truly a wholly new expression in the brewing oeuvre, the White Ale and Sweet Stout take us down familiar paths of what can be done with the right ingredients and the vision of a craft beer renaissance man!

HO: What so big. Squeeze tit, milk juice come out. Plow rice field and whip in pot, cook and simmer, pour in bottle. Big nothing!

LH: Do you consider yourself and the growing numbers in the legions of craft beer drinkers to be nerds.

HO: You nerd. I playboy.

LH: Surely you jest! Seriously though, I am a huge fan of your brews and even go so far as to carry the cap which bears your visage in my pants pocket. Do you feel awkward by the sudden adoration of your fans who have gone so far as to even make earrings with these tops.

HO: You pway wif self in pocket. They pway wif self in head.

LH: Well, Mr. Owl, it's been an honor to pick your brain for a few precious moments here. What does the future hold for you?

HO: Eat. Sweep. Poop. Pee. Do it 'gain.

LH: Thank you and prost!

HO: Bite piss gnerdeek.

Annette May, first woman to achieve Certified Cicerone status, hails from Michigan

by Anne Holcomb | KalamaBrew
Tuesday February 03, 2009, 12:10 PM

In a landmark achievement for both beer-appreciating women and Michigan residents, Annette May, of Allen Park, MI, has become the first woman to receive Certified Cicerone status.

Those who pass the test to become certified in the Cicerone program are proven to have demonstrated expertise in tasting, selecting and recommending beer.

May is the Beer Department manager at Merchant's Fine Wine in Dearborn, MI. She was previously employed as a sales representative for B. United International Imports and also worked at The Map Room, a Chicago specialty beer bar.

The Cicerone Program press release quotes May as saying "We're not just beer drinkers anymore ... now wine sommeliers and chefs ask for my advice on beer pairing!" Attaining Cicerone status, in the beer world, requires a level of expertise equivalent to that of a wine sommelier.

The certification program involves a four-hour exam, on which participants must score 80 percent or higher in the overall score, and 70 percent or higher in the tasting score, in order to be certified.

To get an idea of the exhaustive curriculum involved in the certification program, check out the Cicerone Web site. There are three different levels of certification participants can achieve: Certified Cicerone, Master Cicerone, and Certified Beer Server.

Only 16 beer professionals nationwide received the Certified Cicerone status in 2008.

Two other Michigan residents also passed the test to receive their certification: Michael Bardallis, of Allen Park, and Andrew Van Til, of Grand Rapids.

In another important 'first,' May, Bardallis, and Van Til are also the first three Michigan residents to become Certified Cicerones. Congratulations to all three!


-mlive.com
* * *

Yay! The lady who I contact if I need to find something scarce is truly an expert. If you're in the Detroit area and into craft beers, Merchant's Fine Wine is the go-to place. If they don't have it Mrs. May will get it for you. Just e-mail her through the site and she will respond and let you know your prognosis for beer wellness.


Look at her hold the Hitachino!

Pliny the Elder

Pliny the Elder
Russian River Brewing Co.
Santa Rosa, California


I caught fragments of my first spring training baseball game today on the radio and was feeling all nostalgic but with the frigid weather outside and now these colors on this bottle and the taste coming from within, it could just as well be Christmas. Put a handle on a pine tree and drink with caution. Seriously, I feel like I should be Billy Mays screaming about how the citrus solution will clean everything from your thorax to your dirty undies. Let me be the first person to say this: this beer sucks. I don't care what historical figure's name is on the bottle and how many polo wearing yuppies on Beer Gladhandvocate call this a masterpiece, I find it abysmal. Something akin to Listerine with the bile of a sour stomach churned in to make an astringent piss. Blech. Call me a girly man and a cretin just don't pin the bitters club badge on me, bub. Take these hops and shove 'em.


- Wörtwurst

Dark Horse Blueberry Stout and Perkulator Coffee Dopplebock: An Amalgamation

Dark Horse Blueberry Stout and Perkulator Coffee Dopplebock
Dark Horse Brewery
Marshall, Michigan

If I were a rich man and had an extra dozen livers then I would try this combination experiment with just about every pairing of beers that was possible. However, I am just a modest yeti and as such I will only do these when I have multiples to spare. If you haven't read my glowing reviews of each of these beers by Marshall, Michigan's very own Dark Horse Brewing Co., then I can attest to one thing: these are both quite outstanding. By outstanding I don't mean odd or gimicky but rather, powerful examples in their style. The Tres Blueberry stout on its own is like a blueberry pancake dripping sweaty smokey chocolate with menthol tipped into it. The dopplebock is full-on coffee turned...well, the previous bottle I had turned sour after coffee and smoke but this one is primarily coffee and a little rod-knocking of it's muddy engine. It frankly tastes like a vanilla mocha coffee ale-thing I made one time. I don't know if that's a compliment to me or a slap to them but it's true nonetheless. And the amalgamation itself? My God it's all in there: coffee, blueberry, smoke and malt, a hint of sour and chocolate-induced molasses which is about to put me in a diabetic coma and I'm not even inflicted with the ailment. While I can't necessarily recommend the two poured into one pint I can attest to its greatness. It reminds me of the one time I saw God while floating in the bathtub and eating honey barbecued something or other from KFC. I simply couldn't open my eyes and neither will you be able to Mr. MaGoo, if you dare travel this path of irregulars.


- Wörtwurst