You don't know Jack

Now my favorite whiskey recipe is hands-down a glass with some Jim Beam in it.  But I guess Jack Daniels is ok too.  But Jack with grenadine, triple sec, and orange juice?  Well, it takes all sorts...

http://www.mademan.com/15-great-jack-drinks/

I might have to try an Evil Jack some day.

I have a friend who loves to walk into bars and ask for "two fingers... Jack... neat" just because he knows no bartender under the age of 50 has ever heard those words.  Once the girl behind the bar sadly informed him they were out of Tequila.

 

I would have laughed my ass off if they hadn't been out and he got a tumbler with a shot of tequila and a shot of whiskey, because he would have gotten exactly what he ordered: Two Fingers, Jack, neat.

But back to that link, some of the recipes talk about adding things to ease Jack's bite.  What bite?  I always thought Jack was a little too smooth and sweet, personally.  Sure, I've had sweeter whiskies like Ezra Brooks, and there's whiskey-based liqueurs like Southern Comfort, American Honey, and Red Stag. 

But Jack, well, people put it in the same category as Bourbon.  I was once at a bar and ordered Jim Beam.  When I was given a glass of Jack Daniels instead, I could tell by the flavor and spoke up.  The bartender said "Eh, Jim, Jack... same thing."  I almost flew off the handle, as I was in a pricey establishment and had paid a pretty penny for a moderately clean glass full of not what I asked for.  But that's how a lot of people think.  Many consider Jim and Jack to be interchangeable.  But would they do the same with Crown or Seagram's 7?  Canadian whiskey is pretty close to Bourbon, people don't consider it to be bourbon.  Nor has it ever pretended to be anything other than what it is: it comes in different shaped bottles, totally different style labels and completely different marketing campaigns.  But just look at that bottle of Jack, all square and bourbony and old-timey.  You get the feeling that on the weekends Jack Daniels puts on a fake mustache and asks its wife to call him "Bourbon" in bed.

 

Jack seems to have always had a chip on their shoulder about the whole bourbon thing.  And in all honesty, if you fed samples into some sort of chemical analyzing computer thingie (I never took Chemistry in college) I'm sure it would say Jack Daniels and Jim Beam are close enough to be categorized as the same substance.  I won't deny that in flavor, Jack is like a smooth, sweetish bourbon.  But taste isn't how bourbon is defined.

The fact of the matter is Jack is not Bourbon because it's made in the wrong place.  It's not a matter of taste, or ingredients, or licensing and trademarks.  I can't call myself a Dane because I wasn't born in Denmark, nor do I live there now.  So I call myself a Yinzer, because I'm from and live in Pittsburgh. 

 

A lot of booze is that way.  Mezcal can only come from one town, if it's made somewhere in the same county you get to call it Tequila but otherwise it's just cactus juice.  And everyone involved is ok with that arrangement.  Scotch has to come from Scotland, otherwise Sean Connery shows up at your house in the middle of the night and beats you with a blackjack until you sing Nighean Nan Geug backwards three times.  Those are the rules.

But even going from that argument, I'm sure there's lots of people that would say "Kentucky, Tennessee... what's the difference?"  It's a only a 3 hour and 57 minute drive from Lynchburg Tennessee to Shepherdsville Kentucky.  That's not too long, you can make a day trip from one location to the other.  But to put that in perspective, if you started at the Dewars distillery and drove North, South, East, or West for that same 223 miles, you'd be in the fucking ocean.  So it's not like the Bourbon folks are being dicks excluding Jack, other liquors have just as strict geographic requirements.

Nor am I trying to say Jack Daniels is shit.  It's not shit.  I drank some with Richard a two nights ago (yes, that was a Monday.)  It's a very fine Southern American whiskey, but it is not Bourbon and it's not Jim Beam.  And I know folks love their Jack Daniels; who prefer it over any actual bourbon with it's rotten corn sourness and its rough-around-the-edges, non-charcoal-filtered bite; but to me Jack Daniels will always just be pretend bourbon.  When I want a glass of whiskey I reach for that white label.

Stag Party

Jim beam has been doing some... questionable things, lately. This has me concerned because, hands-down, my favorite whiskey is Jim Beam (white label). I've tried sweeter and stronger whiskeys, but they wear thin after awhile. In addition to white label, Beam has developed and purchased some fine liquors like Booker's, Baker's, Basil Hayden, Old Overholt, and Jim Beam Rye (yellow label). Lately, though, they've come up with (rī)¹, an ultra-hip marketing plan to pick up on the re-awakening interest in rye whiskey. Richard and I haven't tried yet, but Paddy says is wholey underwhelming. But now Beam has gone a step further... in some respects. (rī)¹ was completely absent of Beam branding, but their latest creation, Red Stag, comes in a standard fifth-gallon glass bottle of Beam with a different label.

It's not the packaging that's hip and cool this time, it's the marketing campagin. If you take a moment to peruse www.theredstag.com, you'll see what I mean.

Immediately you'll notice their strategy is to associate Red Stag with getting hipster tail. In the background, people in ultra-cool clothes sweat and gyrate to an unheard beat, while a cartoon deer spouts Confucius-esque wisdom on how to get laid.

The add campaign actually reminds me of old posters advertising Absinthe. Just replace the red with green, a fairy with a deer, and update the outfits and parties portrayed in the background. Really, not a bad idea. I mean, those ad campaigns worked so well at convincing folks that Absinthe was a mind-explodingly good time, the stuff was made illegal in many countries for quite some time.

But as I and Beam have said before, the stuff inside matters most. Was this "infused" whiskey some sacchariney cherry syrup? Was it a fifth of a gallon of cough medicine? Or was it a sweetish Manhattan in a bottle? One sounds like whiskey hell, one sounds somewhat tolerable.

So last night, on my way to hang out at Paddy's place, I picked up a bottle. The lady at the checkout said she'd heard good things about it. She looked like someone who has had her fair share of whiskey, and her comments bolstered my slightly sagging confidence.

Now, I've drank quite a bit of Absinthe over the years, and I never hallucinated; I never saw the legendary green fairy. But looking at www.theredstag.com, I couldn't help but wonder just a teeny bit if some cartoonish crimson deer would start babbling vaguely sexual prose-poetry at me. Cause that might be cool.

Once at Paddy's, we cracked it open immediately and poured two glasses; no ice, no mixers, just whiskey and a glass. First impressions? Not bad. I almost said "it's too sweet" with the first drop on my tongue, but then it splashed across the rest of my palate and warmed my insides as it went down. There was definitely Jim Beam in there, and I liked it. We commenced to taste the shit out of that bottle.

Whoa, hey, um... awesome. Yeah, absolutely! Grab the bull by the balls, carpe diem, it's 5 o'clock somewhere. I mean, it wasn't much of a herd, just me and Paddy, but we were drinking Red Stag and hanging out. It was cool. We actually looked up some recipes for cocktails, because we weren't sure what you could mix with it other than the usual Sprite or 7-up. theredstag.com had some suggestions that sounded tasty: Red Stag and cola, Red Manhattan, Brass Buck (Red Stag and ginger ale), but we just kept drinking it straight.

Paddy isn't really a "potential mate", he's just an old friend. And he's a dude. And that's not really my thing.

Um... yeah. Anyway, recipes the rest of the interwebs had to offer for this liquor were less than appetizing. Some website seemed to want to mix it with every liqueur and schnapps in DeKuyper's lineup. Sorry, but watermelon cherry bourbon is pushing it a bit far for us. And besides, the flavor of Red Stag is strong enough to satisfy the kind of whiskey cravings Paddy and I are prone to, but with its sweetness I think it worked best served on its own. Maybe an ice cube or two. Kind of like a pre-mixed cocktail that's 80 proof.

No, not really. Just two old friends hanging out, drinking some booze, watching TV.

... later on, Paddy's wife came home. Her impression of Red Stag was much the same as mine, a bit sweet, but the bourbon warmth evens that out. We all thought it might be a tad on the sweet side. Paddy even suggested manly-ing it up with some Beam Rye. The sharpness of the rye might compliment the sweetness of Red Stag rather nicely.

What? No! Dude, that's my friend of over twenty years and his wife. We did not get drunk off Red Stag and have a three-way. We just kind of hung out and watched TV. It was relaxing and enjoyable. Paddy made a pot roast, and it was quite yummy. We watched them make Cheetos on the Food Network.

I didn't piss on her either. Moving along, we were about halfway through the bottle when Richard Dicks stopped by. Don't say a fucking word, deersteak! That's his PEN name, not his PORN name! Anyway, by coincidence, Dicks had just been to the liquor store himself and had picked up a bottle. We left that bottle in his car, though, and continued with the bottle I had purchased. Richard's impression was, again, the same. The cherry flavoring is definitely present, but doesn't overpower the charcoal and corn flavor that really makes bourbon the fine American original that it is. Again, he felt it was maybe a tad on the sweet side.

No!  Richard and I did not fuck in the bathroom!  There was no fucking.. It wasn't that kind of party!

No. He most certainly was not. None of us were. We weren't dressed like underage kids sneaking into a pseudo-trendy club. We were just hanging out. Damnit, this hipster ad campaign is starting to get on my nerves. I'm beginning to feel ashamed that I like Red Stag.

But I do like it, and so did everyone else. So before the night was over, the bottle was very empty. Richard was tempted to get his bottle from his car to continue the boozing, but we all had to work the next day, so we called it a night.

No! No orgies! No one had sex. At least, not while Richard and I were there. We were just hanging out. And Red Stag was fine for that. You don't need to be going out clubbing, or having a wild sex party, or even doing some serious drinking. It's a good sipping drink when you want something strong and sweet, but not brutishly forceful or vomitously candy-like. It's a good alcohol to just chill out with.

Whatever, dude... whatever.

Bourbon Heritage Month

It's been a little while since I last posted something to the site. It's not that I ran out of ideas, or that I'm tired of blogging, or I'm overworks. I'm always tire and overworked. OK, maybe I have been a little preoccupied, but for a good reason. I haven't posted in a while because I haven't been sober enough.


For the past few weeks I've been celebrating...hard. What have I been celebrating? Well, National Bourbon Heritage Month of course.

Since 2007, the month of September has been officially recognized as National Bourbon Heritage Month by the United States. Apparently even the US government squeezes out a nugget of genius every 40 years or so (repeal of prohibition, legalization of homebrew, Bourbon Heritage Month).

If you're one of the two readers out there that already know about this month, that's awesome...cheers! We here at JABB, well, we like to celebrate bourbon all 12 months out of the year. Now, if your asking yourself "Why is the government passing bills like this? Don't they have better things to do?", you obviously have stumbled upon the wrong site. You must be in the wrong place or were looking for justanotherboobsblog.

Sorry, I don't have that site up and running yet. Anyways, this month is important because back in 1964 Congress recognized bourbon as "America's Native Spirit", and God damn it, we should have a month to celebrate it.

I'm not going to get into all the history of bourbon and it's origins (***cough*** Pennsylvania). There is more than enough info out there on that subject. Just check Wikipedia and the rest of the interweb. In celebration of what I love, I'm just going to sit here in front of my computer and drink. Yes, I know it's the morning, and I'm at work. There's a reason why God made ginger ale the color it is. I've got a couple of bottles of various bourbons that are on there last legs, so I figured I'd just finish them off.

In keeping this short, so as not to cut into valuable drinking time, bourbon kicks ass. It spans all walks of life. From the inbred hillbilly to the affluent aristocrat, bourbon yields a kinship that breaks down societal walls (kind of like mullets).

Two people who can't agree on which is a better car, a Bentley or an IROC, can at least sit down with a glass and agree that "that is some damn fine bourbon."

So back to the bottle I go. Don't expect much more out of me for the rest of the month. See you in October.

Spring Training Results

B. James and I found some time this past week and took to the grueling task of having to sample and critique the booze obtained from Spring Training. It was a hard job, but we were up to the task.

Pusser's British Navy Rum is the real deal. When I think of rum of old, and how it must have tasted, this is the stuff I envision. I truly believe that this rum stays true to it's 350 year old recipe. Pusser's grabs you by the collar, throws you against the wall and says "I'm rum, god damn it!" This rum is very bold and flavorful. The blending of various different rums has given it quite a distinct taste, and I like it. It's potent, but not harsh, at a very respectable 84 proof. If I was a sailor and needed something to keep me going through those long hard months at sea, I could see how this stuff would do the trick.

Moving off the subject of sea men, for some reason my face hurts. Why? Because I've just been smacked across it by a hard ruthless cock. Fighting Cock Kentucky Straight Bourbon pulls no punches. It tasks like Wild Turkey, but is even a little more peppery. At 103 proof, the Cock burns going down your throat, from the first sip to the last sip. It takes a strong man to take the Cock more that a few times in one night, lest you begin to gag.

Ron Diaz Gran Reserve Spiced Rum is very close to what I expected. It's Captain Morgan light, with a much more palatable texture to suit the college crowd. On the very first sip, the only word that came to mind was "silky." This rum caresses your tongue. It has a pleasant aroma and a sweet taste (perhaps too sweet) with vanilla notes. The smoothness of Ron Diaz gives it a week start, but it has a warm finish. This rum pushes it's worth at $14 a bottle, but I think I'll stick with my Captain Morgan. It's the same price, and the Ron Diaz is just too sweet for my taste. Not to come off as high and mighty with my refined pallet, but this rum has one purpose only, and that is to get the college girls shit faced. * editor's note from B James: should "shit faced" be "naked"? *

Wiser's Very Old 18 Year Blended Canadian Whisky (they need to pick a shorter name) was exactly as I had hoped. It is a real nice, smooth, mellow, aged whisky. It goes down smooth, but still is alcohol through and through. There seems to be a ruminess to it, if that's a word. It has a very light rum flavor or we'll say rum essence (not to be confused with sweetness). It is possible that they may age the stuff in old rum casks. There really isn't much more that needs to be said about Wiser's 18 except that it's damn fine whisky.

If I had to pick one bottle out of the four that I am truly glad I bought, it would have to be the Pusser's. Wiser's would come in a close second, but it just didn't have quite the affect on me as the rum. I sipped it and thought "hmm, that is a damn fine whiskey." But the Pusser's was "wow! I wasn't ready for that, but I like it." It's unique bold taste stands out from any other rum I've ever tried, and the history behind the rum just add to its mystique.

Spring Training

So I just got back from a mini vacation to escape the winter blues. The wife and I went down to Bradenton, FL for Pirates Spring Training. It was a nice extended weekend. I managed to get sunburned on the very first day. Anyways, in my previous post Sui Generis, I talked about how I like to pick up spirits unavailable in PA whenever I go out of town. Well, we ended up checking a bag on our return flight specifically for the booze we picked up, and I thought I might share with you what we got.

Fighting Cock Straight Kentucky Bourbon: This 103 proof whiskey is aged a minimum of 6 years. I am thoroughly expecting it to be anything but high class, but when you have a name like that and a crazed rooster on the bottle, it's hard not to say "oh, I gotta get me some of that."

Pusser's British Navy Rum is the original Navy Rum. The recipe was purchased from the Royal Navy by an American Entrepreneur after the Navy officially ended a long tradition of issuing daily rum rations to sailors. The back of the bottle touts a fanciful story of how the rum has been traditionally made in wooden pot stills over the past two hundred years, and how this process somehow imbues the rum with it's unique characteristics. A pleasant tail, but not exactly 100% accurate. The truth is that Pusser's doesn't distill their own rum at all. The original recipe, dating back over 350 years, is actually a blend of five other rums from various West Indian Islands; a process that today's modern Navy rum still follows. I plan to write a more in depth article about the Royal Navy's rum at a later date. I've been reading a very good book about rum's influence on the New World. It's because of this fascination that I told myself I had to buy a bottle of Pusser's if I ever came across it.

Wiser's Very Old 18 Year Blended Canadian Whisky: I am Actually quite surprised that the PLCB does not carry any of the Wiser's line. It happens to be a fairly well known and established brand. Even Thorogood refers to his good buddy Wiser in his song "I drink Alone" (and you thought he was just singing about beer). As the name implies, this is a very old Canadian whisky. It's been aged 18 years and I am looking forward to cracking this one open.

Ron Diaz Spiced Rum is a 3 year old rum out of Barbados. I didn't know a thing about this rum when I bought it. After some research, I found out that it's actually is a pretty cheap rum popular with the college crowd. I found this picture of what the bottle used to look like.I was definitely drawn in by a very well done makeover. But it may not be just cosmetic. I also noticed that they upped the alcohol content from what used to be 60 proof to 70. But I never knock anything till I try it. I truly hope it turns out good. After all, back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries Barbados was where all the best rum came from. Of course back then you're basically comparing one distillery to another by who threw more dead rats into the mix to kick-start the fermentation, or how many chamber pots were emptied in to keep the slaves from steeling it. Hmm tasty.

So that's what I brought back from Florida. I will be sure to give a follow up on how things turn out once I get around to trying them all. Until then, keep on drink'n.

Here’s to the economy!

So you’re sitting in your fallout shelter, shivering and perhaps even struggling to retain control over your bladder. You’re worried that the economy, and indeed society at large, is on a downhill slide and soon you’ll either be the sexual plaything of a large man in a hockey mask, or attaching a cow catcher to the front of your Ford Falcon. You’re terrified. You’re stressed out. Let’s face it, you’re a fucking mess. And what’s worst is you have absolutely no control over the situation at all. That’s when things are most terrifying. No one person caused this situation, and no one person can fix it… or even put a dent in it. Yet it affects us all. And so you sit alone in your basement, waiting for the seemingly inevitable shithammer to fall. Well, I have good news for you. There’s a treatment for your symptoms that will actually do a small part to resolve the cause: have a drink!

Seriously, go get a glass and a bottle and get to work. But not just any bottle will do, no. This requires careful selection. You look like shit, so beer and wine are out. No, strong spirits are required to steady your shaking hands. 80 proof or more. But before you grab that bottle of Imperia off the shelf and go to town, let’s take a moment to think this thing through logically.
If you down a few shots of some imported spirit, you’re siphoning much of the price of that bottle out of our economy. That’s only going to make the situation worse! Then you’ll get more frightened and depressed and then you’ll need to drink even more; turning this into a vicious cycle. The next thing you know, you’re drunk, lonely, broke, and you’ve ruined the American economy. And that won’t do.

But, on the other hand, if you think about your selection for a second –and specifically I’m talking about who will get your hard-earned booze money, then you can make a selection that’s good for you, good for me, and good for the American people: Bourbon. By law, Bourbon has to be made in Bourbon County, Kentucky. So right off the bat, you know this is a product made with pride by hard-working Americans. Also by law, the mash the liquor is distilled from is required to be over 50% corn. Now… what country grows the most corn in the world? I think you’re starting to get the picture, here. And once that wonderful white lightning comes out of the still, it’s put into barrels made of lightly charred American White Oak to age. So you’ve got American ingredients being used by Americans with American equipment made of American natural resources to produce an exclusively American Product. Seriously, baseball and apple pie ain’t got shit on a shot of Beam!

When you fork over the cash for a bottle of Bourbon, your money goes to American workers, American businessmen, American farmers, American loggers… and do you want to talk about taxes? Do you want to talk about how much Uncle Sam gets out of this deal? The ingredients get taxed, the materials get taxed, the workers and businesses pay taxes, then the federal government collects excise tax on the liquor... it’s a monetary love-fest that ends with you getting wasted!

So there you go. Next time you’re feeling down, grab a bottle of your favorite Bourbon and raise your glass to more comfortable times. It’ll make you feel better, and you might just save the economy.

Pennsyltuckey Bound

Speak to someone who's visited rural Western Pennsylvania, and there's a good chance you'll hear the word "Pennsyltuckey" used in a derogatory fashion. It's a geographically-specific slur close in line with words like hick, hillbilly, and redneck; but this insult carries with it a sadness, harkening to a proud rural tradition that was forced to find a new home some 215 years ago, and with it a distinctive regional libation.

Before the days of highways and airports, the Appalachian Mountains were a significant geographical boundary cutting through the heart of Pennsylvania. So significant was this barrier that Western Pennsylvania applied to the Continental Congress as a separate state called Westsylvania. They were categorically denied. Still, they fought fiercely in the revolution with rifled-barrel long arms called "Jagers". Once independence was won, they hung up their Pennsylvania Rifles and returned to their lives of farming and distilling a uniquely American spirit: Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey.

When the new federal government imposed exorbitant taxes on small distilleries, the primary source of income for these fiercely independent Westsylvanians was eliminated. The violent Whiskey Rebellion that followed was quelled only when an army larger than was needed to win the revolution marched on Pittsburgh. Rather than bend to federal oppression, many farmers packed up their rifles and whiskey and moved to more remote territories like Kentucky where the federal government had little influence. In this new home, their unique spirits would evolve as corn became the dominant grain, and aging in charred white oak barrels transformed Pennsylvania Rye into Kentucky Bourbon.

But Rye continued to be the dominant spirit in the rapidly expanding United States for over a century, with large companies replacing the over-taxed independent distilleries. Beer or wine were seldom seen as liquor traveled much better; and Rye relied solely on domestic ingredients, unlike the previous American booze king: rum. Even after the Civil War, the American West was not fueled by "redeye" (which is, in fact, not even alcohol, but a highly poisonous derivative of sterno) nor by Bourbon, now revered as the most American of spirits. No, when Doc Holiday strode up to a bar and knocked on the countertop, it would have been a bottle of Pennsylvania, or "Monongahela" Rye that would have been placed in front of him.

Prohibition finally sounded the death-knell for Rye. The advent of the cocktail and the bootlegging of Canadian whiskey during those dry times acclimatized American pallets to sweeter alcohol; and the smoother, smokey taste of bourbon won people over after repelation. Soon the names of Craig and Beam were supplanting Overholt and Schenley on backbars. Rye was at best a specialty, at worst a relic.

Rye survived the remainder of the 20th century through companies like Jim Beam, which produced its own Rye and even purchased Old Overholt in 1987. Now Rye is enjoying a resurgence in popularity, and old and new brands share space on the liquor store shelf. Sazerak, Templeton, Old Overholt, Wild Turkey Green Label, and Jim Beam Yellow Label sit side by side and offer a generous range of whiskey experiences.




Old Overholt still bears a label our afore-mentioned buddy Doc would quickly recognize, though whether the flavor resembles its original Monongahela style is unclear. Still, it offers a light-handed and subtle taste of how fermented rye differs from the sourness of fermented corn.






For that comparison, though, maybe Beam Yellow serves us best. Being made by the bourbon people, it's a sharp taste of what happened when distillers changed their grain bill. It can be harsh for someone used to smooth and sour bourbons, but rewarding if your tongue will allow it past your tonsils.





Templeton is a brand that has taken a strange journey to the 21st century. It's been a registered corporation since 1965, but they recently switched to an older recipe dating back to the company's... less than legal days. Whether or not that story is true, and regardless of the old recipe's resemblance to Pennsylvania Rye, the quality of the product can't be denied. The bouquet demands careful attention; and its sweet, light, and fruity flavor belies its brute alcoholic power.




The most complex flavor composition of this bunch, however, belongs to Sazerac. Though it probably bears little resemblance to the Monongahela spirits the late 18th century, that in no way necessitates a lack of quality. In fact, as far as flavor goes, it shines above all other brands on the market now, offering the full-on kick to the teeth of Rye, with a fruity middle and a cinnamon finish. Perfectly suited for either sipping or shooting, the price is the only thing that makes it not optimal for heavy imbibing.



That title has to be taken by Wild Turkey Green. From the makers of the quintessential finish to a bad day (and start of a bad night) comes high-octane rye whiskey with a Southern accent. Sure, I could scrutinize its forceful Rye bouquet, or the wonderful afterglow that stays in your mouth after the initial burn fades; but the long and shot is it tastes fantastic and will fuck your shit up in a hurry, which for me exemplifies everything that is pure and wonderful about distilled spirits.

New Year

The blogs I read all are talking about their new year plans and a recap of the old. As I'm doing this due to my love of beer and booze blogs, I'll follow suit (or enthusiastically engage in mimetic isomorphism as we say in "talk like a dick school").

This last year found me brewing beer, first with my co-authors and then on my own. I had the good fortune of meeting some people in Chicago who did all-grain brewing, and borrowed their gear to make my first batch all-grain. It turned out alright, if weak, and I was off. I made four batches on my own last year, turning out six beers. The small beer experiment is terrible, the scotch ale turned out as an American Porter, the English Porter came out swimmingly. The Schwartz beer was good, and the excess that I did with ale yeast is interesting. I hope to put up detailed information on each of these as well as building a new mash tun for larger batches and high-gravity brews.

This January I have an American DIPA planned, hopefully with hops fresh from California which I am doing with a friend. I'm also going to do another English Bitter and possibly a second shot at the Scotch Ale, with Belgian sugars included to ramp up the punch. I enjoy the weaker beers and abhor the term 'session beer'. More on that to come.

I'm also exploring becoming a BJCP judge. This would require memorizing the beer styles, learning proper tasting techniques and going out to some home brew competitions. I'm not sure how I feel about competing with beer, but I'd love some knowledgeable feedback. And training to get to go out, meet brewers and drink beer just sounds awesome.

I also resolve to go back to drinking cocktails. Too often of late I've stuck to beer, which is tiring out my pallet. To this end, I've spent the weekend drinking Wild Turkey from the bottle. That is the plan.