The impetus to write just hasn't been there lately. I don't consider myself a writer, and I'm still puzzled by the notion that I even bother to blog about our little community public house. But, tonights's the night. Woohoo.
It's been really grim up here the last two months. Rain and cold. Rain and cold. Sometimes heavy rain and cold. Sometimes really cold with a light drizzle. I think we've had five days of sun since the beginning of April. I vividly recall the incident of this occurring on a Sunday. Our little collection of local service sector businesses are eager to see Summer come and the return of positive cash flow. Some ponder closing, selling or moving. So do we. But, for now, we wait it out and send flowers to our creditors. And I, for one, get to make beer.
The days of "Frost on the Bumpkin", our Winter Stout, are over. I've steered the kettle (and associated bits of stainless pipes and whatnots) towards a warmer weather porter called "Cumbrian Moor". At 5% it's a little above the sessionable range, so I recommend having three instead of four. The second cask of an IPA called "B.R.O.W. Brew" is also pouring. This contains Barley, Rye, golden naked Oats and torrefied Wheat, hence the name, and is very pale. Since my brewery is so small, I was able to hop (get it?) down to one of the local homebrew stores in Eugene and secure three pounds of Falconer's Flight to chuck into the boil, a proprietary blend of aromatic and flavorful hops that showcase the West Coast way of thinking. This ale flagrantly violates the West Coast law that IPA's have to be strong, since it weighs in at 5.3% and doesn't make a fuss.
As a participant in the underground cask-swapping fraternity, I have secured a couple rare casks from our friends at Block 15 in Corvallis. "River Mudd" was on. Yep, I said "was". A bunch of people drank it already. Right now I am enjoying the other'n, the "Ctrl-ALT-Del", which shines in cask form. I take a certain amount of enjoyment out of knowing that our pub is the only one IN THE WORLD that has this outside of Block 15. I suggest that, since camping is rather miserable this holiday weekend, you should come down to the pub and play Hearts or Scrabble all day long over a selection of six wonderful handpulls.
When the cask swap offerings run out, I'm bringing out the first cask of our 100th batch of ale. It's modeled on an English stock ale, aged with oak chips soaked in Laphroaig. I will be tapping a cask once per month at the end of each month until it's gone. It might turn out to be swill, but it'll sure beat a can of Keystone Lite in a pinch.
