.... And got called off yesterday. Today being my usual day off. Applied for an opening in a different department, might mean less physical labor and possibly more hours, but we shall see.
The idleness is an unlooked for blessing, as all blessings are. NB took us to Beervana last evening. Both D and he are non-drinkers, because they can't stand the taste, being supertasters, (Like Alan Alda.) I am the only beer drinker among our friends here- with the exception of Dave, who can't anymore because of the anti-neoplastic drugs he's on that would turn alcohol into formaldehyde inside.
Recent changes in the odd liquor laws here means this restaurant with a huge beer menu is open to us. (Huge for Salt Lake. There are at least three places in Boston with much more extensive selections.) Still, it's pretty good, and although torn for a moment, I just couldn't resist Old Rasputin Imperial Stout. Told D if he so much as touched his tongue to it, he'd be spitting for ten minutes. He took up the unintentional dare and dipped a fork into it, and tasted the drop. Sure enough, it was what ND referred to as "Black Liquid Death!" Indeed, yum. We were all in full agreement that the food was amazing, though.
The Private Club laws used to mean that one needed to buy a membership to enter a restaurant or bar that served anything but 3.2 beer. Don't ask me why. We kept meaning to find a place to get a membership, but how do you become a regular somewhere when you have to pay upfront before you can tell if you even ever want to come back? But the law changed on 1 July, and I finally got to go to The Bayou after having heard of it's amazing beerness for many years. It ain't the Publick House, but it'll do.
No, I have nothing to write about. Doing this post for practice and habit.
5 comments:
Whoa, I read about that on another blog. Strange to read about it here. It didn't really occur to me that it was something that might, you know, affect real people.
What do you mean, you have nothing to write about?
You've just written, after all, a post about beer.
Beer is my great weakness.
I love beer. I have never, ever gotten over the novelty of being able to walk into a pub, order a beer and drink it.
Anyway. I like the look of that Imperial Stout, I imagine it to be rich and heady and flavoursome, but to be treated with respect.
I wonder, are you aware of Theakston's Old Peculier? It's my favourite, and served on draught it's little short of astonishing.
Pacian,
And I know two. This explains so much about why our one huge area of disagreement has always been over food, making it very difficult for me to cook one meal for both of us.
Alan Alda is apparently a supertaster as well. He found out while filming Scientific American Frontiers,"Life's Little Questions"
– SHOW 1105, "Why are Peppers Hot?" (Link added.)
Trousers,
Very difficult to get anything here, the state liquor stores get some good stuff, but it's hardly an impressive array. Thankfully, what beers they do get are largely well chosen. I'll keep an eye out for anything peculiar, though.
Old Rasputin is potent and smooth - with a clean edge, and with lots of (unsweetened) chocolate and coffee notes. One 12oz glass leaves me distinctly buzzed.
I'm not surprised, at 9% abv!
But...but, you wrote a good piece about beer and being with friends. It makes me want to join you. I love dark, foamy-topped beers.
:)
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