beer

GUINNESS BLACK LAGER—I’ll have another, and so will my dad

My Fellow Inebriates,

Thank goodness my dad had the sense to ignore Mum’s would-be dry weekdays edict. Seriously, we boys need to stick together against this sort of mini-temperance move. If my dad hadn’t felt the pull of the liquor store and gone in for some GUINNESS BLACK LAGER I would have worried about him.

Mum says I deserve hate mail for implying she can simply be ignored on financial matters. She said it was anti-feminist of me to suggest that Dad and I need to paint her anti-alcohol (at least on weekdays) campaign as irrational and militant, and that if I wasn’t careful she’d encourage the kids to put me in a dress ASAP and engage me in playtime well past Guinness-drinking hour, thank you very much, you nasty little bear.

DSCN2040I’m not making up the fact that my dad and I are overwhelmed here at LBHQ. The bathroom is full of ponies. Everything has glitter on it. We stockpile Purex’s pink breast cancer awareness toilet paper, which is so pink that it prevents you from seeing whether your ass is bleeding, if in fact it is. Yes, Dad and I are outnumbered. All we have is beer.

Moreover, I won’t get any hate mail because I don’t get any mail. Either my readers are completely nonplussed by the blog and left speechless or they simply aren’t reading it (my money’s on the latter). Ergo, I told Mum, I can say whatever I want.

She conceded the point but argued that Dad and I share more than beer. The stereo, the car, and probably the porn, she itemized.

“We watch gobs of porn,” I said—a small joust at her insecurities.

“That’s fine,” she said. “Lucky you’re nearby—you’re nice and absorbent.”

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OMG!! Maybe my allegiance is all wrong, my fellow inebriates. In the spirit of reconciliation, I suggested we try some of that GUINNESS BLACK LAGER my dad bought so disobediently. She’s probably the smart one after all—for surely it’s better to save up one’s drinking for the weekend and then get ripped to kingdom come.

This wasn’t what she had in mind when she first proposed dry weekdays; it was financially motivated—i.e., doubling up on booze to make up for Monday to Friday would defeat the purpose.

I made one last appeal: “But haven’t you read The Secret? If we act like we’re poor by cutting back on alcohol, we’ll create an impoverished vibe and perpetuate our poverty. We have to throw money around and behave like it doesn’t matter.”

After that she just stopped talking to me. We drank our GUINNESS BLACK LAGER in silence.

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Black and tan like a Guinness

As you’d expect, it’s the color of my friend Blackie Bear with tan foam (Blackie isn’t frothing at the mouth currently but he has some tan bits). An abiding affection for GUINNESS DRAUGHT must have programmed me to expect a deep, malty flavor—dark, boomy notes rather than the high notes you get off the top with the BLACK LAGER. While it does give off a malty smell, this proves deceptive upon the first sharp sip. True enough, I should be expecting lager-like characteristics, but it’s still a shock to taste watery barley and sourdough. It does settle down as it warms, but it continues to rail against all the sensory suggestions that attend the GUINNESS name, not to mention its warm, dark color.

The mouthfeel is inadequate but the carbonation is compensatory: forceful and emphatic. Coffee and malt hit the nose and the palate like a sloppy drunk trying to throw a punch. This beer is all over the map and yet it comes together in a fighting Irish sort of way. It’s pretty good if not memorable for anything other than some minor weird incongruities, and I would have another. And another. And another.

ASTROLIQUOR for April 19–25—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, someone close to you is having a birthday soon—don’t forget! Seriously, you’ve been having some badass memory blackouts, so put the date in your phone or something. Buy a nice present and show up sober. You guessed it—you’re the zodiac’s Designated Driver this week. Yay, you! The stars know you totally hate having this honor, but somebody’s got to do it. Pour yourself some chocolate milk.

Taurus, you can’t escape the weight of responsibility this week. You’ve been procrastinating for days, and there’s a big pile of work waiting for you. Think of ways to cut corners and get it done fast. But hold off on the Kahlua until you finish; it’s genuinely difficult to do a project when you’re shitfaced. Reward yourself afterwards with a drink. The stars wonder if you are sore from masturbating so much.

Gemini, you seem sure of yourself but it is all an act. Feel free to keep it up this week; people like you better when you’re pretending to be someone else. You’ll attract a Capricorn on Tuesday or Wednesday. This person is very fond of thongs, and also enjoys brandy with lime juice, bitters, and club soda. Stock up your bar and your underwear drawer.

Cancer, you may anticipate an easy week, but you’re dreaming. You’ll run out of money and spend the weekend consoling yourself by draining your liquor cabinet—say goodbye to your stockpile of Maker’s Mark and Grand Marnier. When the hell did you buy artichoke liqueur? Oh well, it’s gone now. Pick yourself up on Saturday and go somewhere. Don’t worry; you’ll meet someone nice.

Leo, you’re conflicted about relationships. Fact is, you don’t know what you want: a fling? or something serious? And the dilemma won’t get resolved this week. In fact, it will bother you until at least July, when you’ll discover how excellent gin is for quelling this sort of ambivalence. Mix it up (a lot of it) with some Forbidden Fruit liqueur and you won’t care about relationships at all.

You need a martini, Virgo, or you won’t be able to stop worrying about a certain purchase you made recently. That thing you bought doesn’t really work properly, but you’re too embarrassed to return it to the store. Hell, it was embarrassing enough buying it in the first place. Nor do you know anyone who’d want such an item, or admit to wanting it, or admit to wanting it and still want it after you’ve used it. Nah, you’ll have to attempt a return to the store. Get drunk first and stagger over there (on foot of course).

Libra, be careful about contracts this week; someone wants to take advantage of you financially. If you must sign something, read the small print carefully (while not pie-eyed on Sambuca and Bailey’s, okay?) and sign only when you’re sure you understand everything. Get lots of sleep before any meetings. Yeah, I know, it doesn’t sound like you’ll be pounding too many of those shooters this week. (Sigh.)

You have no interesting in maintaining relationships of no benefit to you, Scorpio. This is a position of strength—take no crap from anyone! You are a nice person who deserves the best. Right now you can’t decide whether you hate people or love them. Do you want to hole up by yourself or dance naked on a table? This is the sort of decision best left up to tequila.

Sagittarius, you’ll experience some hallucinations this week, both auditory and visual. Try to get some friends to corroborate what you’re experiencing. If you’re seeing weird shit, it might be because the weird shit is really there. Nevertheless, try to keep your head somewhat clear—nothing stronger than Guinness for you. Oh yeah, and don’t let anybody drive you anywhere. When you’re hallucinating, the bus is much more fun.

Somebody has a crush on you, Capricorn, a crush that will be revealed most awkwardly and inopportunely. You’ll be surprised this person feels so strongly about you; you’ve never really liked him/her and now the raw truth is before you (and probably all your colleagues and your spouse too). The best bromide for an awkward moment is gin—six ounces or so.

Aquarius, you’re on a roll socially, so you can get away with being drunk for the whole week. You feel lucky to be you and to have so many good friends and such relative wealth. Every single day someone will hit on you. You are indeed the envy of the zodiac. Take your joy to the next level with lashings of Everclear and Captain Morgan.

Pisces, while cleaning out your closets you’ll find an old photograph of someone you once cared deeply for. You’ll end up sitting among the cobwebs sobbing for your lost relationship, not to mention your lost youth. OMG, Pisces, does every week have to be pathetic? Come on, you need a happy drink:

  • 3 oz white rum
  • 1/2 oz creme de bananes
  • A whole bunch of difference juices (totally optional, especially given your state of mind)

ALHAMBRA LAGER—Happiness in a bottle (or at least some kind of ALHAMBRA brew, maybe not this particular one; you can blame my sweaty mother for not clarifying)

My Fellow Inebriates,

Everywhere she goes, my mother ends up conversing with strangers about alcohol. Sometimes she doesn’t even initiate it; people just mention beer or wine when she’s around. She must have a “lush” vibe.

The latest recommendation came in a Superstore lineup. To be accurate, it was addressed to the cashier, not my mother. The dude in line behind her, asked how he was, gave an actual answer, saying he was brilliantly happy—mostly because of his hobby: drinking unusual beers from around the world.

4460What was his favorite? The cashier didn’t ask, but he volunteered that it was ALHAMBRA from Spain. Presumably not being a lush herself, the cashier didn’t elicit which ALHAMBRA brew, and my mother, not having pushed her way into the conversation and being filthy and sweaty following a morning workout, didn’t either. But she did get showered and make a beeline for the liquor store that afternoon, where she bought the only ALHAMBRA brew on offer: the lager.

Based on the Superstore dude’s demeanor we surmised that ALHAMBRA must be happiness in a bottle. And we were all the more disposed to try it given that Spain has been rocking our world oenologically lately.

Another plus: 6.4% alcohol. Happiness in a bottle indeed.

ALHAMBRA LAGER’s first impression is a skunkiness not dissimilar to Grolsch’s. I don’t mind skunky beers but my dad—who wasn’t thrilled in the first place that a lager had come home—had reservations about it.

The color is rich gold with a generous creamy head. On the skunky spectrum it rates “intriguing,” stopping well short of “disturbing.” I couldn’t wait for the first sip.

Ahhhh! ALHAMBRA’s generous ABV gives it some welcome heft, making it more than a fizzy Eurobooze vehicle. Round and substantial with punchy carbonation, it strikes hard with sweet malt, corn, and moderate hoppiness. It’s not a one-note beer—maybe a three-note beer—and it’s weighty enough to be an effective “transition beer” for those months when the weather doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing and if you didn’t have a calendar you wouldn’t know it was April and not either March or June.

I doubt our fellow Superstore customer was talking about this specific ALHAMBRA offering in his ravings to the cashier (who said she preferred wine). Chances are our government-run liquor store buys the most mass-market variety ALHAMBRA brew. Which is fine because I was enchanted with the 6.4% ABV. I loved it, people, and it even tasted pretty good.