sonora2sonoma

 

Trying a new IPA for the first time:

On first taste I detect a dankness.

I just discovered that word , “dankness” recently

            as a much sought-after descriptor

            for a flavor characteristic I have been encountering

            more and more in new beers

            and one I have instinctively disliked.

It’s comforting to have a name for something

be it a new social phenomenon, or a bodily symptom

or a feeling encountered for the first time.

Or, in this case, a quality of beer.

But a name alone is scarce reassurance

when faced with the uncertainty

of being out of one’s element

in new beer territory.

 

Alerted and apprehensive,

I press forward.

 

The beer maker’s description of this beer

includes the word “malt”–

and, curiously, pairs it

with the words “biscuity creaminess.”

I don’t like malt!

So, when I encounter “malt” in a beer’s description

a red flag is hoisted high

and that beer almost always loses by default

in subsequent negotiations

 

In this instance, I suspend judgment,

my determination overriding my suspicions.

 

Something else I am on the lookout for,

when exploring new IPAs,

is the presence of Simcoe hops.

My favorite IPAs all include this blessed ingredient.

The brew under consideration

            the only IPA on the menu

boasts the presence of other hop varieties–

Columbus, Mosaic, something named East Kent Goldings

but not Simcoe.

I have drunk brews made of Mosaic hops to good effect.

But the presence of the others weaves more threads of doubt

into the fabric of my uncertainty.

 

 

At this point I’m reminded

of why I came to this spot in the first place.

It sits across the street

from one of my favorite watering holes in this town.

But that establishment

demonstrated the incredibly poor judgment

to replace most of its already meager parking lot

with an expansion of its brewing facilities

with the promise of a larger parking area

IN THE FUTURE!!

But

Time waits for no man (or brewery), as they say,

and the boulevard across which one must venture

to gain access to this venerable institution

is literally fraught with peril

there being no crosswalk

or traffic light

and an abundance of cars speeding by

piloted by harried and deadline-driven drivers

hell-bent on reaching their destinations,

jaywalkers notwithstanding.

Suffice it to say I will have none of it

and theirs will be the loss until such time as

THE FUTURE arrives

and order can be restored to the universe

and the nectar found in that place

can once again tease my palette.

 

By now I’m more than several sips into this newly discovered brew

and I find its biscuity creaminess rather surprisingly capable

of taming its malt character

            not to mention its alcohol content.

And what was initially a dubious proposition

given the aforementioned considerations

and in further consideration of them

is beginning to amount to an acceptable substitute,

an agreeable consolation,

that slowly morphs, as the draught’s volume decreases,

into a dawning realization

that there are more things in life, and in beer,

than being able to have your favorite beverage

at your beck and call

on your own terms and in the manner of your choosing,

and that there are, to abuse an oft-quoted adage or two,

more brews in the ocean, more ales to fry,

and fewer reasons to spend one iota of time or energy

in the bemoaning of not getting what one wants

and infinitely more reasons to rejoice in the abundance of life

in whatever manner one chooses to envision it.

 

Tim Konrad

9 December 2015