BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER—Part 2! (With an apology)

My friend Scarybear makes a sport of freaking me out. If it weren’t for his science fiction-fueled paranoia I’d never have thought for a moment about gamma rays or asteroids or even hemorrhoids. But when Scary started talking about the collapse of the vacuum (of space!) I couldn’t even work up any concern—especially with some big a.m. DTs going on.

On a planet where Scary could surely find another preoccupation (global warming, say), it seems pretty damn daft to worry that the fabric of the universe will shift its quantum state and initiate a Big Crunch, compressing all matter into superheated pinhead. HOW WOULD YOU EVEN PREPARE FOR THAT?

Even a raging apocalyptic lunatic like Scary knows scientists favor the neverending expansion scenario. But he likes the Big Crunch idea—it’s more dramatic, plus it sounds like a chocolate bar.

But I wasn’t in the mood to be terrified this morning, my fellow inebriates. I was feeling guilty.

You see, I screwed up on one of my booze reviews. The other day I said Okanagan Spring BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER was “not sufficiently creamy,” was not “as chewy as it could be,” and finished “on an unfortunate sour note.”

All nonsense! It’s amazing how a pissy mood can affect the palate. The day I wrote that, I’d just learned that my little companions were to be home all day unexpectedly, plus I received some (lovable?) beatings throughout the afternoon, so I was just not a happy bear.

So I apologize to Okanagan Spring. BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER is pretty good when you’re in the mood for a nice cola-colored yet crisply carbonated brew. It features some complexity and hits a reasonable crowd-pleasing note. It has nothing on HERMANN’S, but it’s absolutely drinkable and even enjoyable if you haven’t been thrown around like a stuffie by little girls all day. Assuming that doesn’t happen to most of you, I can confidently recommend BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER, unless something else has happened to ruin your day (maybe hemorrhoids or an asteroid dent in your car).

It’s not easy making green drinks, especially without thumbs

My Fellow Inebriates,

With three days to go until St. Patrick’s Day, I thought we’d better get cracking on the green drinks. We’ll need ingredients, shakers, ice, glassware, and possibly food items.

And look what my first Google search brought me:

 

OMG! What the hell is that?

“Freshness in a glass,” says Oprah.

Holy shit, have you any idea what’s in this?

  • A head of celery
  • ½ bunch kale
  • 3 yellow crookneck squash
  • 1 handful fresh green beans
  • 2 apples
  • 1 grapefruit

You’re supposed to throw all of this into a JUICER and then drink it. OMG!

I was borderline-offended by this. Where is the alcohol?

I know what celery is: the garnish for a nice Bloody Mary or Bloody Caesar. But what is kale, my fellow inebriates? WTF is crookneck squash? Which beans are green and why would I want to ingest them? Are apples the round ones or the oblong ones? And why on earth would you use a grapefruit for anything but a Greyhound?

Nevertheless, I thought I would choke all this shit back with some Big Bacardi Apple in it. That way I wouldn’t need to use real apples. And if I ever met Oprah I could tell her about it. I remembered there was a rotting grapefruit in the fridge fruit drawer, and whatever the hell kale and crookneck squash are, I figured my mum could go and buy them. But it was raining, she said, looking up from her book, and surely I could find something else to do. She said that, with the kids away, she was going to enjoy three days of NOT preparing whimsical food requests and throwing them away. So there it stood.

I said this wasn’t a whim; it was a PROJECT. Something Oprah believed in and endorsed. Something that would save us all from SCURVY.

She said that sometimes, when bears look like they have scurvy, they actually just need to go in the washing machine.

Argghhh!

The unfortunate Wetherby bear, tumbling around

So here are some proper green drinks:

The Real Mojito

You need a muddler to mash up the mint leaves a bit and release their essence. Then it all gets a bit involved. The best thing is probably to mix up a LOT of mojitos and store them in the fridge, because I can’t imagine cutting limes and muddling/mixing/shaking/pouring while drunk.

Margaritas on the Rocks

Okay, so it’s not that green, but it’s green enough for St. Patrick’s Day, and if you drink a whole blender of it you’ll be green too. Yum!

Apple Martini

This is another one requiring a lot of ingredients, a shaker, ice, and probably opposable thumbs. It looks lovely enough to be worth the effort.

Green Lizard Shot

Now we’re talking. Chartreuse and Bacardi 151, and dead simple to make.

▪ ▪ ▪

We’re all set! But will my parents do the right thing and go booze shopping?

OKANAGAN SPRING BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER—Okay, I admit it. I might be just a little sad.

My Fellow Inebriates,

We had a windy day yesterday, which meant the girls’ grandparents couldn’t come over on the ferry to get them. The plan had been for the monkeys to visit Vancouver Island for a few days (without parents for the very first time), and the mood—before BC Ferries cancelled all sailings—had been ecstatic. Days of fun for the kids! A peaceful house without toys on the floor for my parents! And for me, license to drink openly all day long.

Well, maybe not. My parents are still boring, controlling, (smugly) opposably thumbed and unwilling to invest in bear-oriented bottle-opening technology. But the point became academic when BC Ferries made its decision yesterday not to sail in high wind—probably less because the company fears a sinking than because union disgruntlement will skyrocket if the ferry employees spend a whole afternoon mopping up seasick passengers’ barf.

I’d been all prepared to miss the kids terribly. Somehow they were already seeming cuter and more lovable, the more I pictured them being driven away by Nana and Papa for their big-girl adventure.

The Bear Habitat. Escapees will be beaten.

My mum was relieved; she didn’t like the idea of them getting tossed around on the ferry. I felt like a bad bear for not having considered this. I do love the kids. The other day they made a “bear habitat” consisting of a dislocated couch cushion for all of us bears. Any bears who wished to opt out of the new habitat received beatings on the head. So you can imagine how conflicted I was about the ferry cancellation.

The kids themselves were devastated, which translated into some heavy bear usage. In addition to draping me in several dish-towel frocks, they chucked me down the stairs a few times and forced me to kiss Glen Bear on the mouth (which I didn’t mind). “Baby” by Justin Bieber warbled relentlessly in the background, either from YouTube or the six-year-old’s vocal chords—usually both. Finally Miss V launched into a tantrum, the momentum of which carried everyone into bedtime, and I was left to calm my twitching fur with the Okanagan Spring Craft Variety Pack.

The HOPPED LAGER I tried on Sunday wasn’t poor, but still I hoped for more from the next choice: Okanagan Spring BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER. But—perhaps because of the day’s emotional highs and lows, perhaps because of the package design, and perhaps because Vancouver Island Brewery’s HERMANN’S DARK LAGER had set the bar very high for that particular brew style—I wasn’t optimistic. Just sayin’ it so you know I didn’t go into this unbiased as I usually do. I certainly needed a beer, but I wasn’t expecting great things.

BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER is a deep cola color with tan head (not a good candidate for dyeing green on St. Patrick’s day). It gives off a toasty aroma with mild graininess, cocoa, and espresso. On the palate it’s crisp and unexpectedly fizzy; the coffee flavor moves to the front, jockeying a bit uncomfortably with the mild hops and malt. The mouthfeel isn’t as chewy as it could be, which again makes for some incongruity between expectation and taste. It finishes on an unfortunate sour note, like old espresso in a breakfast cup.

Sadly, BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER fails to hit the proper notes. It’s not sufficiently creamy, it’s more noticeably sour than bitter, and it lacks the weight that would make it a nice winter sipper. Instead (last night at least) it served me as a winter pounder—a release for some considerable frustration while I inspected my fur and wondered whether I would need anything sewn up.

Even though the earth didn’t move, I’ll still drink the other two in the variety pack—quickly. And who knows? They may even taste better today. The wind has calmed and the girls’ grandparents are on their way to get them. Soon they’ll be on a ferry headed to Vancouver Island, and it will be very quiet here.

😦