It wasn’t dastardly old, I knew, but a dead snake clogged my sump pump, and put about six inches of water in my basement last summer. As a result, residual moisture made that crown look like an aging hooker.
What beer could that be? I thought. There was a chance that it could have been a mild I bottled for the sake of an aging experiment a few years ago, but when I poured it, it was orange, with frothy, buxom head.
A taste revealed something Belgian, and a perusal through my brewing log narrowed the possibility to a Belgian Pale Ale I brewed over a year ago. Honestly, I don’t recall bottling any of that beer, but there’s no other choice in the log. The beer was tasty, and served as a pleasant surprise, like finding a twenty dollar bill in a winter jacket after many months of storage.
Clearly, I bottled it at a time when I was doing a half-assed job of labeling beers. I’m using my whole ass now.