The After-Math of the DB&G Craft Beer Fest

Up against the Stone-Heretic-Beachwood collaborative Unapologetic IPA,
that Coor Lights was battered and beaten. Having the Philadelphia Flyers'
koozie didn't help. But Glenn wanted to know, "Why does Captain America
look at me so angrily?" Because you smuggled beer across the border, dude!!!

When all those folks gathered at Donny's Bar and Grill on October 25 for the First Annual Mid-Autumn Night's Decadent Dangerous Craft Beer Festival, one of the best things was that Beer Musketeer Glenn landed on the patio hours before others.

You see, Glenn and I have a ton of history. We met at Journalism School a million years ago, were room-mates while working on some back-water Northern Ontario newspaper (I can't even remember what the town's name was because I did one of those clever mind-wipe things where I learn new stuff and it pushes older, nastier stuff out of my brain) and for a good stretch there, we worked freelance at the same magazines east of Toronto (his turf, not mine).

Most of those magazines, owned by some big chain, were as boring as hell, as I'm sure Glenn would admit as well. Business crap, mostly - "fluffy bunny" stories where you held your nose to avoid the stench and took the cheque. If you asked me what stories the pair of us wrote a decade ago, I'd be surprised if either of us could remember. But there was one magazine, Joe, that we both enjoyed writing for.

Burlington's Rib-Eye Jack's restaurant, which specializes
in craft beers, have this pretty young waitress who, on
Halloween, decided to dress up as the beautiful cartoon
model on the label of Nickel Brook's Naughty Neighbour
American Pale Ale. I pretty much love her for doing this.

You see, Joe was a men's magazine but here's the twist. We had a very nice female editor who had no idea what dudes wanna read about and, well, pitching story ideas to her was like lobbing softballs at the San Francisco Giants. Everything was pretty much gonna get hit out of the park. Given that, Glenn and I wrote whatever we wanted whenever we wanted. One time, I said to her, "You know, urinal etiquette is pretty key to guys." Obviously, she was confused so I explain how guys pick urinals based on the maximum space between other guys using them and never ever ever, you know, check out the competition. It's a courtesy thing, really. Men are, on occasion, capable of courtesy. I got the green-light, wrote the story, got paid and within seconds, the magazine shut down and it never saw print. I would curse the gods but a much larger Canadian men's magazine, distributed nationally, took the bait and printed it. So I got paid twice for the same story ($500 the second time)... on how to take a proper piss in a public washroom. Every time I think my life couldn't get any weirder, something new steps up to the plate with a hot bat.

But every time Glenn and I get together, he always brings up the one story I wrote for Joe that was actually requested by the female editor. And *heavy sigh* that would be the one on erectile dysfunction.

At the 2013 Toronto Comic Con. I know you're
thinking, "Holy crap, is that Glenn with Hugh
Jackman??" No, it's just me... bearing my claws...
Understandable. The resemblance is uncanny.

But her request was specific. "Do it that way you like to write! Make it funny!" Because guys suffering from it are probably laughing their asses off, right? Okay then, lady, one knee-slapper on limp noodles coming up. I dove head-first into Google, got quotes from a prominent physician at Toronto's Canadian Men's Clinic... but I needed more help to make it, you know, funny. So I enlisted two of my bros, Bill and Greg, to give me every funny name they knew for male genitalia. Within 24 hours, I was emailed over 100 different names by the pair. Among those that landed in the story: Trouser Torpedo, Commander Kielbasa, Johnny Hancock, Heat-Seeking Missile, Bald-Headed Champ, Monty Python, Steely Dan and of course, the always-popular Mr Happy. I swear Glenn will never forget that story. And because of that, it seems I'm consigned to remember it forever, as well - 10 years after the fact. Maybe 500 people tops read that story... and Glenn had to be one of them.

But I came here not to bury Caesar (that would be Glenn) but to praise him for the beers he smuggled from the United States to Canada on the very day of the Mid Autumn Night's Decadent Dangerous Craft Beer Festival. Stone Brewing out of Escondido, California is pretty much neck-and-neck with Rogue Spirits and Ales out of Newport, Oregon as my favourite American craft brewers. And Glenn knows my Achille's Heel. Bastardo!!!

Is this Ruination Double IPA on steroids, as Stone claims?
No, Ruination Double IPA on steroids is still Ruination. Yes,
it's that good. However, this is a damn fine variation on it...

Let's start with the collaborative Stone Brewing-Beachwood Brewing-Heretic Brewing Unapologetic Double IPA. Wanna know why it's unapologetic? Because beers that kick this much ass don't apologize. You kneel before them and chant, "We are not worthy" a la Wayne's World. All three breweries are hop-crazy so well, welcome to Donny's wheelhouse! This 9%, 90 IBU (international bitterness units) had both of us begging for mercy. Floral and much pine on the nose, tons of tropical fruit on the tongue, this one kicked us both in the nards. Fortunately, much like my liver, mine are made with Kevlar. Poor Glenn, though.

Now, here's where I got a little, well, sketchy. Glenn was still at Donny's Bar and Grill the following morning after the Craft Beer Fest. Even after I brought my boy home from a swim meet in the early afternoon, he was still on my couch.

Stone's 18 Anniversary IPA is, well, 18 'till I die good!
As Glenn and I have noted, they can brew no wrong!

I have zero problem with that. Donny's Bar and Grill is always open to wayward craft-beer-drinking travellers and that will never change. But there was a lot of Stone's finest still in my fridge and well, I wanted it to stay there. So Glenn, after being watered and fed, was sent off with two growlers filled with Nickel Brook's Headstock IPA. One of those belonged to Beer Musketeer Cat, who forgot to take it home. But I knew the more Headstock that left my casa, the more Stone would remain for me. Headstock IPA is a five minute drive for me - Stone's best, a much farther drive.

So I was left with a few Ruination Double IPAs (my next wife as soon as they legalize man-beer weddings), as well as a few other trinkets like the Stone Ruin 10 IIPA. This beer bills itself as Stone Ruination IIPA on steroids? Is it? Oh hellz no. You do not beat Ruination. You sit in the seat beside it and be thankful you're finally allowed at the adult table. That said, this is almost as perfect a beer as Ruination. First brewed in 2012 to celebrate Ruination's 10th anniversary, the beer certainly carries a bigger stick at 10.8% and 100 IBUs but honestly, you get to a certain point where even your tastebuds are screaming, "Yes, it's excellent! They're all excellent!!!"

Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, brewed out of Chico, California,
(well, that's close to Nevada, I suppose) is one of the
stronger pale ales I've had recently which says something

Aroma was citrus and pine, taste was bitter and hoppy as hell... yes, come to Poppa! The same can be said for the Stone 18th Anniversary Double IPA, which celebrated the brewery's birthday. Very dark brown in the glass, at 8.5% and 75 IBU, it's a little lighter tasting than its Stone brethen but still a solid .300 hitter. Sweet fruit and malt on the nose, nutty and orange on the tongue, another winner from those guys.

Okay, enough throwing of Stones... let's look at what else was in my gift-bag. Ah yes, Three Heads Brewery out of Rochester, New York. gave me my first ever triple IPA with their Tre Kind. So what's a triple IPA like? Well, a lot like Stone's double IPAs... except not quite as good.

I was praying at least one of my friends would get dressed up on
Halloween as Groot from Guardians of the Galaxy. My old pal,
Dan The Man, stepped up and created this costume on his own!!!

Don't get me wrong, it is good... damn good, actually. But to be honest, it's gonna suffer next to the Stone beers. Most beers would. But this 10%, 100 IBU beers was certainly not without its charms. Both sweet and piney on the nose (am I smelling pine in everything because it's Autumn?), it was malty, citrus and bitter on the tongue. Damn good brew.

And finally, let's drag me kicking and screaming away from all these IPAs with a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Weighing in at 5.6% and 37 IBU, it was almost a relief to drink this after the punishment my tastebuds got with all those double and triple IPAs. I love a good pale ale and this is one of the best I've encountered in my travels. The Cascade hops (citrusy) are strong in the aroma, lightly floral and mildly spiced on the tongue. Winnah, winnah, chicken dinner! A very nice brew.

Okay, I gotta wrap this up because it's taken me days to write this. Autumn in Canada is a very distracting time because it's my favourite season - the leaves changing colour, the brisk air, the ladies in much-appreciated slutty Hallloween costumes. It's all good. But that, in a nutshell, was the Craft Beer Alcoholocaust that Glenn smuggled back to Canada in his smelly-ass car trunk.

Next up, what Sandi brought me from Quebec, La Belle Province (that's French for pretty or smokin' hot... or something) and so many others that I don't know where to begin. But hey, guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here!!! Until next time, I remain, as always...