Stairway to hell

There have been many recent staff morale days following Jon’s and my vacations. In the last week or so, we’ve been slowly working through a few nuggets that Jon picked up in Springfield, Mo.

I don’t know if it was planned, but there’s a bit of a heaven and hell them going on. Let’s start with Heaven and Hell, from De Molen: hella good impy stout is the short review. Try a bottle and write your own long version. There’s plenty to say: deep, black, buxom, roasty and lovely are a few of the words I’d utilize.

Next up, Corne du Diable, from Brasserie Dieu du Ciel! in Quebec. I was enticed by the sweet label, but the beer was a letdown. An American-style IPA, it seems to me that they forgot to add the hops. It was enjoyable from a malt standpoint, but whatever hops were here have dropped since this beer was bottled in January (as near I can tell based on the notches on the label).

There was a Monk’s Cafe day I should mention, though Kyle will read this and complain that I didn’t give him a call. To this I say, “Kyle, for goodness sakes, we split 11.2 ounces among four people, none of us got much and it just didn’t work out this time. I’ll call next time.” As for the beer, I love it Flanders-style and it was a treat to celebrate the fact that last Wednesday was a really good Wednesday.

Yesterday, Jon and I quietly cracked open the Samael’s Oak-aged Ale from Avery. Freaking delicious is the two-word review. Oak, malt, druggy and boom are other words one might toss around. I mean  druggy in a really good way. Thankfully, I know that I can’t afford to drink this one very often. I use practicality to stave off what would surely be an addiction.

Today, we wallowed in the drinking and writing connections of beer and our office with New Holland’s The Poet. What I’ve noticed is that if I have the choice to drink oatmeal stout or not drink oatmeal stout, I usually drink oatmeal stout. Since this was silky and roast-alicious, it met my expectations. I might sit down and write some poetry a little later. Something dark, but filled with hope, which is what this beer is.


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