On the road to Napanee...

This is the worst ventriloquist act ever! Actually, this
is Steve, age 4, wrapped up in one of his father John's
hunting shirts. "I don't ever remember him wearing
 a bow-tie," says Steve, "and I look like the inspiration
for all those Chucky movies!" Not gonna argue there

Last time in this space, you got to read all about the boozy shenanigans at a recent high school reunion. Well, I've grown as a person since then so this time, I will be regaling you with the story of a beer-blasted college reunion. Yes, straight off the plane (okay, several planes) from Wellington, New Zealand on Tuesday night landed my old college buddy, Stevil St Evil, a man so renowned in his Kiwi community that they have written songs about him. Well, I suppose if you put some music to the lyrics "Chug, chug, chug!", then it's a song of sorts.

It was something of a sad homecoming for Steve as he returned for his father John's funeral. But I'll tell you this for free, from the stories I heard from Steve and a day later from his sister Kim and brother Dave, it sounds like John packed a whole lotta living in his 85 years on this mudball.

But first, of course, was the matter of retrieving Steve from Toronto's Pearson International Airport which of course, had to be done with a certain amount of panache. Spotting an Asian man holding up a sign with an indiscernible name in a foreign language, I asked him if I could use his sign as his guests had arrived. He and his guests looked at me quizzically but as I repeated a few times, "For a joke!", they understood and starting laughing.

Holy crap, what a line-up. Carefully placed in bubble-wrap, Steve
smuggled me back some of New Zealand's hoppiest beers, including,
from left, Epic's Hop Zombie, Liberty Brewing's Citra, Garage Project's
Death From Above, Panhead Brewing's Vandal and Epic's Lupulingus

And thus Steve was greeted back to Canada with me holding up a name that neither of us could translate. The shenanigans had begun as, of course, others looked at my sign, looked at Steve and likely thought, "Wow, he looks nothing like a Mr 変体仮名..."

Now in my evil clutches, we made our way back to my car and as we pulled out, I motioned for Steve to grab himself a beer from my cooler in the backseat and pour it into a travelling coffee mug. While of course, I can't drink as the driver, there's no laws against my long-travelling passenger having a pint. Oh wait, yes there is. Well, I guess I would have told the cop he was visiting from a faraway land where that's perfectly legal and that he was unfamiliar with our customs and laws. (Also untrue.)

Kim happily eyes her Beau's Lug Tread Lagered Ale,
a beer Dave enjoyed as well,  while Steve and I gleefully
piled into Black Oak's 10 Bitter Years Imperial IPAs.

Despite there being eight different IPAs in varying numbers in that cooler, Steve beat long odds and pulled the same one consecutively. And thus Muskoka Brewing's Twice As Mad Tom Double IPA was his first and second taste of a great Canadian craft IPA on home soil, a style he developed a serious taste for in the now-burgeoning Kiwi craft beer market. His consensus? "Hot damn, this is good!" It would be an oft-repeated sentiment throughout the evening by both of us as Steve had some five special items in his duffel-bag for me, as well as three more for Rib Eye Jack's Ale House beer technician (and total hophead) Kylie. When we arrived at Donny's Bar and Grill, Steve opened his bag and nestled in bubble wrap were Epic Brewing's Hop Zombie, Liberty Brewing's Citra, Garage Project's Death From Above, Panhead Brewing's The Vandal and Epic's Lupulingus - all of them regular, Double or Imperial IPAs. (Kylie got a Hop Zombie, The Vandal and Death From Above.) Putting those into the fridge to chill, Steve got settled into the patio for Nickel Brook Headstock IPA, straight from the growler. Told my favourite beer only notched a 93 on RateBeer, Steve screamed highway robbery. "This is absolutely a high 90s beer - a 98 or 99!" A sentiment shared by many here.

To the right of Dave is the Napanee River which
runs right alongside of The Waterfront Pub's patio.

Next up was some Nickel Brook Malevolent Black IPA, also from the growler. All dark malts on the nose and hops on the tongue, Steve declared it, too, to be a real winner. (Let's face it - my fridge was packed and there wasn't a loser in the bunch.)

But now it was time for that sweet, sweet New Zealand swag. Grabbing a couple of halves (eight ounce glasses), we split them one-by-one. My poor Beer Bro Glenn stuck in Oshawa - every time we cracked one, I sent him a picture, taunting him with a "Look what I'm having!" There was NO doubt we were starting with the Hop Zombie, a beer beloved and continually praised by both Steve and Neil Miller, New Zealand's Beer Writer of the Year. Now because Steve and I were catching up, I didn't do voice recording of each so this is a little by way of sketchy memory. At 8.5% and I'm guessing about 90 IBUs (international bitterness units), it was outstanding with tons of hoppy fruit on the tongue.

The Waterfront Pub's patio at night was freakin'
gorgeous. We all ate some great meals and with its
extensive list of craft beers on tap, well, we were in
no great hurry to leave. Truly a night to remember...

Next on deck was Liberty's Citra, which for my money, was in a dead heat with Hop Zombie (I declared them 1A and 1B). At 9% and 100 IBUs, this was a citrus sawed-off shotgun blast to the nose and tongue. That I remember clearly!

From there, it was onto The Vandal IPA, which I was surprised to see only notched a 91 on RateBeer. Like Headstock, it's far superior to that mark. Not as explosive as the first two, no, but at 8% and (I'm guessing) about 75-80 IBUs, it was a damn solid offering.

Okay, Garage Project's Death From Above was a real "bait and switch." Why? Quite spicy and different from the others. Concocted by Steve's local brewery (in a former gas station), the young brewers were rushing the untried batch in time for an international beer festival a few years back. So they combined mango, chili peppers, Vietnamese mint and lime juice, colliding those with Chinook, Centennial, Citra and Amarillo hops for this 7.5%, roughly 70 IBU wizard's juice. "The idea of trying to bring all of these flavours together in a coherent way given the pressure of time and prospect of public humiliation was, frankly, shit scary," said the guys. But dammit, if they didn't pull it off. A truly unique and darn tasty beer!

"Welcome to the Twin Peaks Motel in
Napanee. We can assure you that no
one has died here. Well, recently..."
Also what's "worker rates"? I work!

And that left the Lupulingus IIPA by Epic. I'll be frank. I have no real recollection what this 9%, roughly 90 IBU beer tasted like, except like others before it, it was delicious. I don't know - bitter, fruity, something-something on the nose and tongue. Sorry, gang at Epic but that's all I got. If it's helpful, it greatly appeased the Hop Gods within me. Steve and I finished the night with some Nickel Brook Immodest Imperial IPA, again straight from the growler and that was pretty much the end of us. I stumbled upstairs, crashing on my son's bed and leaving my king-size for Steve. Well, he never made it past the couch, a solid 15 feet from the patio. So with a nod to the Auckland brewery, the night, filled with college memories and stories about his late father, was, indeed, 'Epic'.

Like me, Steve doesn't really get hungover on beer (though hard liquor will kill me) and when we woke up the next day, we will both attest to some real fuzziness. Slamming down some breakfast, coffee and Gatorade, soon we were on the road to Napanee to meet up with his brother, Dave (who lives there), and sister, Kim. Pulling back onto the highway after a gas stop about halfway, two young guys spied my Burlington Beer Festival magnetic car signs, rolled down their window and yelled, "Where's the beer?" Well, boys, same place as last night - in the cooler in my backseat. Close by for my passenger.

At the Twin Peaks Motel, TV placement was not a
priority. That's my headboard to the left and yes,
that's the TV behind me in the corner. Don't ask me.

And yes, after some ginger ale, my passenger was game for more, snagging a Flying Monkeys' Smashbomb Atomic IPA and pouring it into the thermal coffee mug. Once again, this hardened Kiwi Hop-Ho declared it "awesome."

I was greeted very warmly by both his siblings (I had never met either) at the Twin Peaks Motel where Steve, Kim and myself were staying and after a few wobblies, we proceeded to The Waterfront Pub for dinner, mostly because it has an outstanding craft beer selection on tap. Dave also noted it had the best view in town, right on Napanee River. We got a river's edge open-air gazebo on the patio and quickly established ourselves as the "fun table" for our pretty, young waitress. Late in the evening when we found out she was getting married soon, I told her, "As a wedding gift to you, we've all decided, as a group, not to skip out on the bill!" Dave laughed, looked at me and said, "You know I live here, right?" Yup, I sure do, Dave. He and Kim, both dedicated Sleeman's drinkers, opted for Beau's Lug Tread Lagered Ale (which, given their repeat orders, was something very much to their liking) while Steve and I went for the Black Oak's 10 Bitter Year IIPA on tap. Never had it on tap. Dynamite.

This would be Napanee's most famous citizen, after
Dave. Pretty pop-punker Avril Lavigne put this tiny
town on the map. Well, obviously, with Dave's help.

For me, it was a wonderful night with the siblings as they reminisced about their late father. His hunting-with-the-boys stories were legendary. One time, Steve recalled, one of his fellow hunters had a bit too much whiskey that night and John found him outside the next morning, hurling his guts out on the far side of the wood-pile. Walking up to the fellow, John looked and calmly noted, "Well, no wonder you're sick. Look at all the vomit you had in you!" Dave recalled there was just one rule about the hunting weekend - unload your firearm outside before bringing it inside. Gun inside, okay. Ammo inside, not okay because, well, booze. Well, one fellow, a younger addition to the group, was so excited about potting a deer or a moose or a squirrel or something that he forgot the Golden Rule and brought his loaded rifle in. The rules were clear so they laid a whipping on him. "Well, as much as old Korean War veterans could before getting winded anyway," laughed Dave. "So he had to endure a solid 45 seconds of punches."

While at Donny's Bar and Grill, Steve, a life-
long Montreal Canadiens fan, had to endure a
Toronto Maple Leaf car-seat cover ("I farted
on that a lot."), a Maple Leaf towel for his
shower ("I wiped my ass with it a lot.") and a
Maple Leaf doormat ("Perfect if I get dog
shit on my shoes.") I don't think he likes them

It was a great night, filled with hilarious stories about their father John and while I never met him, I know all I need to know by the way these three turned out under his tutelage and the obvious love they all had for him. Steve kept me informed through all the funeral proceedings and while it sounded like it was bitter-sweet for the trio, it was also an awesome time of reconnecting with a huge number of family members.

Steve will be back at Donny's Bar and Grill next Tuesday night before leaving for Wellington on Friday night. Our itinerary is set. Big Stevil St Evil Party on Thursday night with as many friends as possible, proceeded by a couple of episodes of Day Drinking. What's that? Well, it's a complex social function whereby you start drinking on the patio at noon and continue until you no longer can. Hmmm, okay, reading that, I guess it's not that complicated at all. Given our college time together, all I'm saying is that Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't the only one who woke up naked next to a dumpster in 1984.

I am already anticipating Beer Bro Glenn complaining on Thursday that Kylie got some of New Zealand's best IPAs and he did not. Well, that's easy to explain. She's pretty. Pretty people get free stuff. Lots of it. Don't blame me or Steve. Society makes these rules, not us. Dude, if you wanna cash in on the freebies... be prettier! But guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here! Until next time, I remain...

That's what friends are for...

Yeah sure, I could have put on those magnetic car signs myself but
why not enlist Kylie, the gifted beer technician at Rib Eye Jack's
Ale House (4045 Harvester Road, just east of Walker's Line) to
lend a hand? I'm certain more readers would rather look at Kylie
than me. So yeah, if you see a little black Ford Focus hatchback
driving through Burlington (where I live) and Oakville (where I
work) promoting the July 17-19 Burlington Beer Festival during
the next two months, that would be me. Just doing my part...

Well sonuvagun if Burlington Beer Festival co-organizer Wayne Brown didn't come through for me. Many months back, I was talking to him outside Rib Eye Jack's Ale House, a favourite haunt for both of us, when I spied his Ford Ranger pick-up bearing a couple of magnetic car signs promoting this summer's Burlington Beer Festival at Spencer Smith Park, running this year July 17 to 19. I was at the inaugural one last summer and even though I got caught for most of the Saturday festivities under heavy rain, I still had the time of my life. Beer's mostly water so a little on the outside wasn't gonna melt me. Many great craft breweries were on hand, as well as a healthy handful I hadn't heard of (Ottawa's Turtle Creek, Hanover's MacLean's Ale and Oshawa's All or Nothing). It was a day so jam-packed with beer sampling that by the end, I was so glassy-eyed and dazed, I looked at the Bee Gees tribute band and asked, "Who are these chicks? And why are there six of them?"

But back to Wayne. On that day he and I chatted outside, I said to him, "Get me some of those magnetic cars signs and I'll slap 'em on my car. I drive all over Burlington regularly and spent 40 hours a week parked outside an Oakville Beer Store." He said that he would take me up on that (I thought, in half-jest) and just last week, he Twittered me to say my magnetic car signs were ready. Not only that, he drove them out to my Oakville Beer Store so I could get them! Well, holy crap, he was serious! Never mind that he organizes one of Burlington's biggest Summer events, as well as countless other events in this city, he took time out of his day (and gas out of his tank) to get me those car signs?

Can't say enough about this guy, Wayne Brown,
one of the co-organizers of the Burlington Beer
Festival. He just never stops. People like this
are what make Burlington a very cool place...

My offer to him was pretty simple. I'm all about beer and I'm all about Burlington. I live here. I shop locally. I buy the great majority of my craft beer at our local Nickel Brook Brewery on Drury Lane and drink many new ones at Rib Eye Jack's Ale House on Harvester Road. Supporting your local economy, your local businesses is the smartest thing anyone can do. So it's my pleasure to help Wayne and the Burlington Beer Festival out, even in this smallest of ways. Frankly, those magnetic signs are the cleanest thing about my car at this moment. And while Wayne and I just met a short while back, I certainly consider myself a full-fledged friend to the Burlington Beer Festival. But his response and efforts, bringing me into the process of helping sell an event that's very worthwhile and important to me, well, that's 10 kinds of cool. That's what friends are for.

So while people such as Wayne and Kylie, my favourite young beer technician at Rib Eye Jack's Ale House certainly fill the bill for new friends, there's also a story of old friends to be told in this space. Well, not old, exactly. Let's just say "around for a while" friends. My high school friends. You see, this past weekend, my Oakville high school, White Oaks Secondary School, scheduled its 50th Year Reunion. Turns out the old gal was built and opened in 1965. Long before we went there, depending on your definition of "long". This is meant to be a huge Gala event, right?

That's our hard-working White Oaks SS Reunion
organizer Sandi in the front centre. Surrounding
her, from left, are Wendy, Laurie, Jim and me...

But here is the catch. One of our classmates, Sandi Richardson, looked carefully at the Saturday night Gala Dinner in some fancy-schmancy Oakville hall. It was something like $80/head. So Sandi looks at that and realized we would be breaking bread with graduates from the 1980s, 90s and 2000s, even beyond. Not to mention those who graduated 1965-1975. People we have never met. We were definitely a That Late-70's Show crowd.

So Sandi said to herself, "Hello? Screw that noise!" and organized a different Saturday night party at the Sixth Line Pub for our crowd, just a stone's throw from the actual high school. Trust me, our group has no place at a fancy dining hall. But a pub? Well, given the proper crowd control (think British soccer hooligans) and stringent alcohol distribution (that so didn't happened), yeah, we can do that. One simple Facebook event invitation to 250 people and man, we were on like Donkey Kong. She locked in Bob Sherwood's band, Project 360, as well as the Ford twins, Danny and Dennis, to provide the tunes - all musicians from our year - well, years, I guess. We've always kinda lumped the last few years of the 1970s together as one big group. The bar probably doubled up its keg orders and we were ready to rock.

Bob Sherwood, the rowdy bass player
for the band Project 360, is probably
best remembered as the dude who drew
spot-on caricatures of both WOSS staff
and students for the annual yearbook

So here's the thing. The actual big Gala White Oaks Secondary School 50th Year Reunion tanked. Got cancelled. No idea why. "Maybe next year" is all we heard. But Sandi's WOSS Reunion Party? Oh yeah, still on! Sandi doesn't need someone who graduated in 2007 to tell her how to organize a reunion. Our chick's a pro, baby and this ain't her first rodeo. She's done this before (10th and 20th reunions - huge parties in big halls) and she can do this reunion thing in her sleep. There would be no cancelling of our event. Hey, back in high school, we all wished we were grown up and had great jobs. After a few decades of working, we all wish we were back in high school again. And for one night, well, we were.

The women all looked as beautiful as they did back in the day. Every one of them. And the guys? Well, I have little doubt the women looked at the men, especially the ones "who got away" and likely thought, "Wow, did I dodge a bullet there!" In our defence, we were all butt-ugly back then, too so at least that didn't change.

As expected, it was a night to relive old memories, create a few new ones and hey, maybe even learn a thing or two. My oldest friend, Dave Schaus, asked me if I remembered how we met. Other than sometime in Kindergarten, I had no clue. He knew. Having just moved into the neighbourhood, his father had no idea where our public school, Munn's, was. Remember, this was long before Google Maps. So he simply followed the bus to school on the first day. As Dave recalled, even though we had never met, I was in the back of that bus, waving to him during the entire trip. He was waiting for me as I got off the bus and our friendship has remained since that first day of Kindergarten. I'm just glad we've never had a Kindergarten Reunion because I've put on at least 150 pounds since then.

Despite sitting down at the keyboards for the first time
ever, Dennis Ford showed us he was pretty adept at it.
Joking, of course, he's been playing for decades now.

Dennis and Danny Ford kept us all on the dance-floor (as did Bob's Project 360) and hell, despite my aversion to dancing, I even got up there a few times. The first was to share a slow dance with an old girlfriend, Julie Brown. When I pointed out that we had dated for, oh, about 10 minutes back then, she corrected me quickly. "It was at least 15 minutes," she said with a pretty smile. I also got a chance to dance with Lisa Charters, who offered up another memory. Back then, she was dating Danny and one night we were watching the band play in some low-rent bar. Well, the cops showed up that night, as this place had something of a reputation for serving under-agers. Which *ahem* Lisa was. According to Lisa, the police had barely come through the front door when I quickly had her spirited out the back door. I don't claim to have many skills but leaving the scene of the crime before it becomes one? Yeah, I have that one down. And then there was Jill Etherington. Well, by the time we hit the dance floor on this night, tequila had reared its ugly head. Several times. So the pair of us showed all the dexterity of a new-born giraffe trying to stand for the first time. I am sincerely glad that no one filmed that. Or if they did, they were courteous enough not to You-Tube it.

"Thank you, thank you," Danny acknowledged. "We'll
be here all night. Try the veal sandwich. It's great."

When I told my Mom about the reunion, she quickly asked if Dennis was there. You see, Dennis, Dave and I were roommates back in our second year of university/college. Many moons ago. But she still remembers Dennis. One time, he drove over to get me at my Mom's, wearing a bowling shirt with the name, Ernie, stitched into the pocket. She asked why his shirt had that name on it and with a perfectly-straight face, he replied, "What? Don't you name your clothes?" His sense of humour remains intact to this day. That night, Dennis told the crowd that he and Danny had a disagreement over which Eagles song to pay. "Dan wanted to do Hotel California while I wanted to play Desperado. So we compromised." With that, he launched into the opening chords of Desperado. The youngest twin always gets his way. My Mom still remembers Dennis ("He was the funniest kid!" she says) flying off to Europe to play piano back in the day, something I had completely forgotten.

While many of us posted pictures on Facebook the next day (y'know, once we shook out the cobwebs), our lovely friend, Sandy Jakubowski decided to collect a lot of them from various people and create one huge Facebook Photo Album.

I have no idea what Rob, aka Doley, and I are doing here,
other than the vague recollection that it's some sort of
weird dance we did in High School. I have no recollection
how it began but I'll wager Monty Python was the reason.

In that photo album is a very blurry Smartphone picture of me greeting my old friend, Lubin Bisson, at the reunion. And as fuzzy as that shot is, one thing is clear - I'm pretty damn happy to see him. You wouldn't even know it's me but that smile? Well, it's unmistakable. I got a chance to meet his pretty wife, Marie-Claude, for the first time and she was delightful. Lubin, who's always been fluent in French, has long since set up shop in Montreal with his wife and two children. I, on the other hand, know just enough French from high school to engage French-speaking people in the worst, most awkward conversation they've ever had.

Greg Cheesewright was there with his beautiful wife, April, who graciously extended an invitation for me and another friend, Andrea, to come visit them in Grosse Pointe Farms, Michigan (near Detroit) this Summer. Greg has told me there's a nearby bar with over 100 craft beers on tap. So in case there was any doubt - we're going! But at one point in the night, I was chatting with April and a stranger came up and asked her if they attended the same school. "No," I quickly answered, "This is my trophy wife. She's American." With that, she laid her head on my shoulder to give my lie some authenticity. April knows how to play this game.

Greg steals away my "American trophy wife" April. I
tell ya, you have to watch this Cheesewright fellow!!

But here's a story that Greg, who's been in this space before (he brought me up a Goose Island Barleywine Ale on a previous trip), well, let's say it's a story April has probably not heard. Back in High School, we often had to give speeches in English class. So Greg decided to give a speech on "Getting Embarrased." Except while he was giving his speech, he slowly took off all his clothes, finishing in nothing but his tighty-whiteys. I wasn't even in that class and word of the speech swept the school inside the hour. I have no idea how he looked in his underwear but about 15 girls asked him to the Spring Formal afterwards so let's assume "good."

Ironically, the first person I met there with a fellow named Brad, the boyfriend of the afore-mentioned Created-A-Photo-Album Sandy. But here's the thing. He and I have never met before. Well, thanks to Facebook, which has allowed me to graduate my high school "He's a distraction to the rest of the class" onto a global platform, I know him. So I happily shook his hand and introduced myself. And while Facebook makes things less awkward for significant others, as they may feel they already know the people to whom they are about to be introduced, it does have its downside. Such as, "Hey Bob, I haven't seen you in 15 years! What have you been up to since you golfed today at 3 pm?"

Once Cindy Lalonde gets over her painful
shyness, she'll learn how to whoop it up a little...

All in all, it was an unforgettable blast and we have Organizer Sandi to thank for this. There's a scene in the movie Pretty Woman where Richard Gere and Julia Roberts are in an elevator on their way to see an opera. Because, well, hookers can't get enough of that opera. Big fans. And she turns to him and says word to the effect of, "In case I forget to say it later, thank you for tonight." (Hookers are also very renowned for their courtesy.)

Well, I have little doubt that she heard it many times that night and likely since. But here's one more. Sandi, thank you for that wonderful night that allowed all of us to see each other again. If you want any help doing it all over again next year, hey, just ask as there would be no objections from any of us. That was a night we would gladly relive over and over again. Sandi, thank you once again for illustrating to us all very clearly, that's what friends are for...

Other than that, I have just one question. Where were all those hot 26-year-old teachers who have sex with their male students back when we were in high school? This doesn't seem very fair to me. Geez, Hot Teachers, I'm sure I would have been very fast, if nothing else.

Hey, that's us! I knew our high school class would
be on a marquee one day, rather than the usual
"Wanted" posters seen in Canada Post offices...

Anyway, I have taken up far too much of your time, I'm sure, so let's wind this bad boy down. First of all, my Beer Bro Glenn and I will be at the Burlington Beer Festival on July 19. We already have our tickets ($35) for the Sunday and trust me, when the ticket says "Rain or shine", they ain't kidding. I'm still trying to get the water out of my ears from last year. But join us if you can.

On a different note, I'll be picking up my other Beer Bro Stevil St Evil, who lives in Wellington, New Zealand, late in the evening from Pearson Airport tonight. He heard his father was in a poor way late last week and got back to Canada as quickly as he could. The game plan was for him simply get to Toronto as fast as air travel allows while I took some days off so I could shuttle him by car to Napanee the next morning (so tomorrow) to visit his Dad one last time. Well, sadly, his father passed quietly on Monday morning so as quickly as we all moved, we weren't quite fast enough. That's pretty sad but I suppose he'll still get to see his Dad that one last time. So there's some closure there for my old college buddy. I'm still happy to get him home because, well, that's what friends are for... I recognize that this beer blog had little to do with actual beer so let me say this. Man, we drank a lot of it at the Reunion and I am expecting a couple of bleary beer-addled heads on the road to Napanee tomorrow. But guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here!! Until next time, I remain...

What beers would The Avengers drink?

Yeah, sure, the Mighty Thor looks like he's drinking
a regular beer here in the first Thor documentary.
But I know what drink the God of Thunder prefers

Okay, here's one for the comic geeks, moreso than the beer geeks. I recently saw the summer blockbuster The Avengers: Age of Ultron. (Actually, I saw it twice because I wanted to be certain that the heroes did save the Earth. They did. We're fine.)

Out of courtesy (which I seldom show), I'm gonna give you a Spoiler Alert right now. If you haven't seen this gonna-win-Best-Picture-Oscar flick, I am about to reveal key plot points. But the fact is, if you haven't seen this movie yet, you have little interest in how these superheroes saved your butt (and thus, thanks for nothing because the terrorist robots win) so I don't care that I'm playing spoiler here. If you have seen it, I'm telling you nothing new. We have likely regaled their victory (they're two-and-oh playing Save The Earth now) in a bar somewhere. Maybe even chowed down on some shawarma to celebrate.

But back to the movie, which opened with these Avengers ransacking the villainous lair of Baron Strucker (a rare Nazi left-over not hiding in Brazil or Argentina) to recover Loki's Sceptre, a nasty-bad weapon best not left in the hands of Nazis, now called the much-less-offensive Hydra. Because it's all about brand marketing, right?

Now the Black Widow is Russian so she thinks beer is for
small Russian children and American frat boys. However,
when it's time for "revels", she compromises with a beer

So anyway, after one of our heroes, Iron Man, finds the sceptre ("Be a secret door. Be a secret door." *Wall slides open* "Yay!"), these Avengers fly back to their New York City HQ where Thor suggests that due to their victory, they have "revels". That's demi-god-speak for party-time. And when the Norse God of Thunder says it's time for revels, guess what? Bring on the beer! But the thing is these guys and gals are super-heroes so they won't be drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon or Bud Light. Not with billionaire Tony Stark bankrolling them. No, this is a Craft Beer Crowd all the way.

Let's start with my favourite, Thor himself. So why do I like this dude? Well, lessee, he has a kick-ass enchanted hammer named Mjolnir, speaks as though Shakespeare raised him rather than Odin and he commands lightning from the sky. Also, women seem to really like this guy, making them unexpected fans of hammers? Who knew? I mean, hell, I have a hammer. Where's the love?

There can be only one beer that Captain America
would drink - a very patriotic lager from Boston

Now let's remember that the ancient Norse Gods go so far back that they were worshipped by the Vikings themselves. We're talking Middle Ages here so forget the beer and give the Thunder God a Trafalgar Ales' Mead Braggot. The basic ingredients of fermented honey, water and yeast with some malts and hops added later in the mix - a concoction to please the ancient gods. Sure, it gets pasted on RateBeer but Thor? He hath little time for the opinions of mortals. And frankly, if you think present day society is violent, Thor thinks the 13th Century would hath words with thee.

Let's move on to the beautiful assassin, the Black Widow, who's Russian and likely equates beer to soda pop. Yeah, we're gonna need something high-test for this lethal lady. I think Amsterdam Brewing's Fracture Imperial IPA may be well-suited. Why? Well, at 9% and 115 IBUs (international bitterness unit), like her, it's not shy on punch. But really, if the Black Widow does one thing well, it's fracturing things - bad guys' jaws, bad guys' skulls, bad guys' knees - you get the idea.

♫ Iron Man, Iron Man... does whatever an iron
can... ♫ Well, I doubt Tony Stark irons much...

That takes us to Captain America, our clean-cut, please-don't-swear moral heart of the team. I'd like to pair him with a Canadian brew but, well, no can do. This guy is clearly a Samuel Adams' Boston Lager drinker. Samuel Adams was a leader in the American Revolution and Captain America leads America in the fight versus Hydra and evil robots. The dude is so wholesomely American, he makes Samuel Adams look like Benedict Arnold.

The three Iron Man movies have made it clear that Tony Stark is a Scotch drinker. So much so that in the first Avengers, he brazenly offered it to Loki, the villainous half-brother of Thor, in an "Hey, evil god, have some Scotch" kind of goodwill gesture. Now, the only thing I know about Scotch is that it's supposed to be really good if it's old enough to order its own Scotch. With that in mind, I would serve him an outstanding Scotch Ale, the one being made by Highlander Brewing (South River, Ontario). I figure that ought to earn me some high-tech, missile-shooting armor. Hopefully, you'll seeing me flying over Burlington, defending my turf from evil robots very soon.

That brings us to the group's least-powered hero, the archer Hawkeye, who has the movie's best line: "The city is flying, we're fighting an army of robots... and I have a bow and arrow." Yeah, armies of robots are a bitch.

Hawkeye is totally a pale ale kind of guy.
Hooking him up with a beer was easy.

I like that he knows his relative limitations - he's basically Robin Hood hanging with gods, super-soldiers and flying metal men. But there is an very relatable Every-Man mentality to this guy. For starters, if you know how to throw a punch and are good with a bow and arrow, you could be Hawkeye, the Ringo Starr of the Hero Crowd. Well, an Every-Man kind of hero gets a craft beer crowd-pleaser and that's Nickel Brook's Naughty Neighbour American Pale Ale. At 4.9%, this will not throw off his aim but nonetheless delivers some hoppy goodness. He would not be aiming those explosive arrows at me any time soon.

Which brings me to the team's strongest member, the Incredible Hulk. A fierce Doctor Banner-Mister Hyde figure, I'm giving him something big-time and strong. That would be Sawdust City's Long Dark Journey to Uranus Imperial Stout. At 9% and 70 IBUs, this very black, very strong heavy-duty stout might just be enough to sooth the savage beast, so to speak. If not, hell, it's kinda fun when he turns into a huge, green, rage monster, albeit one who knows how to fly a plane by the movie's end? (A wee plot hole but again, the movie wants to to believe that Norse demi-gods exist among us so...)

Black Oak's 10 Bitter Years IIPA is a
damn good beer but it's their Epiphany
No. 2 Imperial Pilsner that got all of my
attention when I got these bad boys home

And finally the villain himself, the sentient evil robot Ultron. What was his deal? Well, when his artificial intelligence first sparked and he became alive, the first thing he did was plug into the internet. After just three short hours on the net, he decided humanity had to die. Probably had a lot to do with vague "I can't believe she said that to me" Facebook statuses, Twitter bitching and countless cat pictures. I mean, really, can you blame him - he has a pretty valid point. Well, since he's a robot and Pennzoil doesn't make beer, how about a Neustadt Springs Brewing (Neustadt, Ontario) 10W30 Brown Ale, a dark British style mild, made with New Zealand hops and imported specialty malts. A few of those and maybe he'll chill out. Probably start posting pics of baby robots on Facebook with captions like, "We will kill you all... hahaha, just kidding."

Before we move onto other matters, someone at work asked me why Batman wasn't in the movie and suddenly he got a terrible case of food poisoning. Imagine that. What are the odds?

Now that we've dealt with what those guys would drink, what has been in my countless beer glasses recently? (The beer glass supply is not infinite - I've just never counted them before, hence they are countless...) Well, folks, this is the week that IPAs finally take a back-seat to other styles here at Brew Ha Ha - it was bound to happen eventually.

Grand River Brewing in Cambridge
continues to impress, this time with
their 5.6% Pugnacious Pale Ale...

For starters, it was a week of oak-aged, barreled goodness as Nickel Brooks' Tony Cox handed me an Innis & Gunn Toasted Oak IPA. Two days later, a customer at the Beer Store passed along an Innis & Gunn Original, a bottle of their Rum Finish Ale, as well as their Spiced Rum Finish Ale. Why? Wasn't his kind of beer. It is certainly mine as my Scottish half jumped to the fore. Had them all before and have chronicled about them all in this space so I will just say this. I think you could age Bud Light in a rum or bourbon barrel for a year and something tasty (well, okay, tastier) would come out.

Well, Sassy Cassy is back in town after her school stint at Lakehead University in Thunder Bay and gawd bless this wee spitfire, she never comes home empty-handed. This time, she brought Sleeping Giant Brewery's Hoppet IPA and Coffee Vanilla Porter. The Hoppet, a solid outing at 6% and 70 IBU, has some nice citrus on the nose and grapefruit on the tongue. Were I in Thunder Bay, I would growler this up. But, to paraphrase Thor, I say thee nay, tis the Coffee Vanilla Porter which doth knock mine socks off.

Walkerville Brewery recently won a Silver
Creativity International Award for the branding
of their Ale and Lager, which reflected the history
of the brewery during Prohibition. The Honest
Lager is a nod to the pure ingredients used by
founder Hiram Walker while the Loophole Ale
refer to booze baron J.S. Cooper, the town's
"Honest Bootlegger" who used loopholes in the
strict liquor law to legally fill liquor orders.

All coffee on the nose, it seems like strictly coffee on the tongue as well until the vanilla slowly makes a guest appearance. This is probably the best porter I've had this year. Well done, Sleeping Giant!

Co-worker Marie recently returned from one of her gambling junkets at Caesars' Windsor and she, too, did not return empty-handed, carting along some Walkerville Brewery Geromino IPA and Amber Lager. Though 6.3%, the IPA clocks in at a somewhat low 55 IBU, meaning it won't scalp you but still some light grapefruit on the nose followed by more of the same on the tongue. With less bite, it's something of an IPA Junior, a transition beer for those looking to step up. But it was the Amber Lager that caught my attention this time. Now this was a treat. The malts give it a nice caramel scent on the nose and its slightly bitter finish lets you know they didn't forget the hops. Like the aforementioned porter, this is one of the better lagers I've had this season.

I have had Black Oaks' 10 Bitter Years Imperial IPA countless times - loved it, praised it here. But it's their limited release Epiphany No. 2 Imperial Pilsner I wanna talk about today. This is like a nice Czech-style pilsner... on steroids. At 7.7%, it has tons of kick, an aroma of citrus (just like an IPA) and some really nice light spiciness on the tongue. I loved it! Like the previous two culprits, it truly caught my attention.

No, no, no, Sawdust City, I told you to give the Hulk your
Long Dark Voyage To Uranus Imperial Stout, NOT the
Long Dark Voyage to Uranus SPICED Imperial Stout.
Even the Hulk can't take that much spiciness. Too
much "muy caliente" for even the big green guy...

Well, how about tiny Grand River Brewing in Cambridge? Here's another solid offering from them, their Pugnacious Pale Ale. Not nearly as hoppy as other pale ales (though a solid 45 IBU), the 4.5% session ale is perfect for the patio. Lightly fruity (apples?) on the nose, there is a lightly bitter, toasty malt on the tongue. Another strong outing for this tiny brewery.

Well, that's it for both the Avengers and beer at this little pow-wow. Now you know what beers the Avengers would drink because hey, this stuff's important. Well, to comic geeks... and maybe beer geeks. What can I say? I have played a lot of Tetris so yeah, I'm a problem solver.

Next up, how did Denmark's Mikkeller become the biggest and best-known contract brewer in Europe and for that matter, how does a gypsy brewer crank out so many outstanding and truly funky beers? But that's next time. So guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here! Until next time, I remain...

The Fight Of The Century... wasn't

Is this the face of a champion? No, it is the face of a boxer
who got a serious wake-up call in the fourth round (shown
here) that his feisty opponent wasn't about to roll over.

It was billed as "The Fight Of The Century." By the end of 2015, it won't be remembered as the Fight Of The Year or hell, for that matter, The Biggest Fight In The Month Of May...

But we all had to see it. American Floyd Mayweather and Filipino Manny Pacquiao had never met in the ring. It was suggested by many that Pacquiao was the one opponent who could beat the undefeated Mayweather, who sat on a flawless and (almost) unprecedented 47-0 record going into the May 2 bout at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.

So when Fight Night came, many of us rushed to find a place to watch it. Most of us were cheering for Manny, the underdog, and with good reason. Mayweather is a cocky, arrogant douchebag. He counts Justin Bieber among his entourage. (By the way, America, when Canada gave you Bieber and Nickleback, we had no idea you would retaliate with the Kardashians and Honey Boo Boo. Well played, you Yankee bastards, well played...) But it was my Beer Store co-worker and longtime friend Jay who would assist me with the fight-viewing venue.

Trust late-night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel to
inject some humour into the proceedings. After an
on-air appeal to be part of Pacquiao's entourage, the
boxer came into the ring with Kimmel in tow.
Except Kimmel decided that if he was going to get
the Justin Bieber role, well, he had to dress the part.

His buddy, Steve, who lives in the same Burlington condo complex, was willing to shell out the $100 for pay-per-view on the fight so we all descended on his pad, complete with a humongous Man Cave HD big-screen TV, each chipping in $10 to cover his costs. And of course, no big fight comes without a betting chalkboard, which Steve happily provided. It had both boxers at the top and the 12 rounds underneath. Toss in $5, pick your square - or in my case, squares. The eventual winner (Mayweather in a decision) saw the pot split by four of us. (Note to Halton Police: We used Monopoly money, Because we know gambling is illegal. And, uh, immoral.)

The first three rounds consisted mostly of the pair circling the ring, getting a feel for each other. So as boring as hell. But Round 4 was a different kettle of Balut (a Filipino delicacy involving fried duck embryo and... know what? I'll just stop there. Feeling queasy.) A rapid flurry of really good body shots by Pacquiao on the stunned and rattled champ in the 4th - the first real punches thrown - made it pretty clear who I was cheering for. In fact, I started yelling, "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" so loudly that I not only startled a few of the other guys, I also spooked the hell out of Ace, the dog. So who's Ace? Well, that's the big ol' mutt, owned by Jay's younger brother, Jonny, and his lovely girlfriend Alex, both of whom I've also worked with at the Beer Store.

It may not have been the Fight of the Century but it
definitely left the Carbon Footprint of the Century at
Vegas' McCarran Airport. These are the private jets
that flew in for the fight and actually, that's not even
all of them. The airport has to shut down an entire
runway just to park the rest of the private jets. Yikes!

Now granted, as I was an unfamiliar scent, Ace was already spooked by me, yapping at me from the get-go. Finally, Jonny picked him up chest-high and had Ace smell me. "It's the only way he'll stop barking," he noted. From that point, Ace approached me, though warily, and let me pat him on the head and licked my hand.

You see, that's a good dog. You wanna know what a bad dog is? The rest of this fight. Once Manny stepped up in the 4th, Floyd Jr invoked a curious but successful defence/offence strategy. He would get in close, land a few good shots, back into a corner, cover up and when Manny got close again, Floyd would... hug him? One of the most ferocious fighters ever became a big bloody Care Bear. That poor referee spent more time prying those hugs apart than chaperones do at a Catholic High School dance filled with hormonal teenagers.

In fact, that fight was such a dog that I'm sure the HBO-Sports (the pay-per-view network airing it) phonelines the next day will filled with callers claiming they accidentally butt-dialed their line, requesting for the fight. Or that their kids ordered it.

Frankly, the attention the Tecate Ring Girls got
from the guys in the room was more notable than
the fight. On the right is September 2012 Playboy
Playmate Alana Campos. How do I know that?
Well, that's the kind of thing I pay attention to.

But there were a few oddball things about this fight right from the start. For starters, they played the Mexican National Anthem for two fighters that are American and Filipino. Poor Alex. Half Mexican on her mother's side, we were all looking at her, asking why that was. Of course, she had no idea. The truth is Mexico is the only country in the world who got to watch the fight for free. It's some deal they get. Don't know why. That also explained why Tecate beer was plastered everywhere rather than, say, Bud Light.

And the celebrities... oh man. Everyone was there. Nice to know the rich have to suffer right alongside us when it comes to a turkey like this bout. Rapper Jay-Z was there with the always-gorgeous Beyonce and was probably thinking, "This fight? Yeah, it's one of those 99 problems I got." I didn't see Kanye West or his human booty troll doll but I have little doubt he declared Beyonce the winner of this fight.

And the money? When I posted a Facebook status cheering Manny on prior to the fight, noted Kiwi Beer Writer Neil simply replied, "$". Oh yeah, Floyd Jr picked up $180 million for this fight while Manny received a sweet $120 million. I wish I could get someone to pay me just $1 million for hugging them... rather than the usual restraining orders.

Props to Premier Kathleen Wynne, right, who's getting
out to the Ontario craft breweries and offering support.
Here she is, visiting Barrie's Flying Monkeys Brewery...

But back to the Bud Light for a moment. There I was in a roomful of 25-30 year olds and I figured for sure, well, this was a Bud Light crowd. Uhhh, no. When I opened the fridge to put my beer in, oh sure, I did see some Miller Genuine Draft but I also saw Mill Street Organic Lager and Collective Arts' Saints of Circumstance Blond Ale. An impressive array, to be sure and further proof that craft brewers are making serious inroads in this Province, starting with the younger beer drinkers. Both are top-notch Summer craft beers.

Which is, I guess, is my oh-so-smooth segue into Beer O'Clock at Donny's Bar and Grill. (A seamless transition, yes? *Bowing*) Well, to further quote Jay Z, "I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one... and really good craft beer will fix 67 of those... especially my sucktastic hockey team, the Toronto Maple Leafs. The craft beer just dulls the pain a little."

An interesting trio from the liquor store. From
left, the Southern Tier Goat Boy Imperial
Weizzenbock, Howe Sound's Hopraiser West
Coast IPA and Rogue Farms' 7 Hop IPA.

Picked up some interesting beers at the LCBO recently, finally snagging a new Howe Sound Brewing (Squamish, BC) beer, their Hopraiser West Coast IPA and a Rogue Farms (Newport, Oregon) 7 Hop IPA. But the young liquor store worker there knows me all too well (I know - you're shocked) and said, "I've got something in the back for you." He returned with a Southern Tier (Lakewood, New York) Goat Boy Imperial Weizzenbock. That turned out to be a good call because much to this IPA fanatic's surprise, it was the best of the trio. Hands down. (No, seriously, keep your hands flat on the table if my Goat Boy is there.) Because it's a wheat bock, you instantly get that banana on the nose but on the tongue, all the smoky chocolate that a 7.5% imperial bock has to offer. Damn tasty. The 7 Hop IPA was a curious beer, mostly because I don't recognize the seven hops at all. Genetically created at the farm, the hops were Liberty, Newport, Revolution, Rebel, Independent, Freedom and Alluvial. Say again now? My favourite beer technician, Kylie at Rib Eye Jack's Ale House felt the same as me - it was okay but nothing special. Truthfully, she didn't even like it. Come to think of it, neither did Beer Bro Glenn. I liked it - but only as a friend. At 8% and 90 IBUs (international bitterness units), it was, frankly not all that bitter. It lit up the scoreboard at RateBeer with a 98 but I wasn't feeling that high mark. At all. Decent but Rogue makes far better IPAs with better-known hops...

I finally got a chance to try some beers
from Grand River Brewing located in
Cambridge when their Curmudgeon IPA
and Dog Stalker Bock showed up at the
liquor store recently. Not too shabby...

I had placed high hopes in the Hopraiser West Coast IPA, mostly on the strength of the brewery's outstanding King Heffy Imperial Hefeweizen, the single best Canadian wheat I have ever had. So, yeah, a little let down with the Hopraiser, which, to be honest, is definitely undervalued with a 63 on RateBeer (it's better than that) but this 6% offering is not what you'd call a Hop Bomb. Some grapefruit on the nose, lightly peppery on the tongue, it's a touch on the light side, though certainly not horrible. Beer Bro Stevil St Evil, a long-time west coaster, noted it fared far better on Beer Advocate with an 86, which I would suggest is a fair score. Good but not outstanding. The bar to which I hold IPAs is pretty damn high - like supersonic skydiver Felix Baumgartner plummeting to the Earth from 24.5 miles (40 kilometres) up high. That high. That said, these guys also have an Imperial IPA called Total Eclipse of the Hop that I'm dying to get my sweaty, beer-soaked paws on. Howe Sound, if you're listening, any Burlington LCBO will do. Oh and could you also ship some of your Belgian Strong Ale called La Brew Ha Ha! Let's face it, I pretty much have to try that. It's like a law... or at least what passes for a law in my twisted little world.

Some beers from tiny Grand River Brewing in Cambridge finally showed up in a local liquor store so I grabbed both - the Curmudgeon IPA and Dog Stalker Bock. A couple more of their brews and I will give you their full, unabridged brewery history. I may even gush a little. (Wait? Did I just call out Grand River there? Oh yes, I most certainly did. The gauntlet has been laid at your Cambridge doorstep, boys.)

What's in this mystery can that
Nickel Brook's Tony Cox slipped
to me? You'll find out next time!

Now before this looks like it's getting way too confrontational, lemme say this. Cambridge is, like, a half hour away from me so I will be visiting the brewery this Summer, mostly to try their Russian Gun Imperial Stout on tap. Why? On the strength of these two beers. The Curmudgeon is a solid IPA. At 6.5% and 70 IBUs, it won't knock over a cow (there's still farms in Cambridge, right?) but it's like they started with the malt base of a British IPA and then decided at the last minute to add some hops for a West Coast IPA kick. I quite liked it. The hops are not in-your-face and the finish is dry but definitely, a different sort of IPA. But their Dog Stalker? Unfiltered, hazy, a couple of little weird clouds in there and damn tasty. This 6% bock was a strong seasonal! Great nose, light caramel on the tongue, I really thought this was a  really strong contender.

Okay, next time. I just saw The Avengers: Age of Ultron. How was it? If this doesn't win every single Academy Award next Spring, I'm sorry but the fix is in because the Academy system is corrupt and they should all burn. But more importantly, what beers would the Avengers drink? What's in the mystery can Tony Cox from Nickel Brook slipped me a month ago? I have a one-litre (34 ounces) howler of it in my fridge. And what did co-worker Marie bring me from Walkerville's Brewery after her last gambling adventure? But guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here! Until next time, I remain, as always...

The reinvention of Trafalgar Ales and Meads

Trafalgar Ale and Meads owner Mike Arnold and General
Manager Connor Orchard pose behind the seven awards they
won at the 2015 Ontario Brewing Awards. Well done, guys!

A funny thing happened at the Ontario Brewing Awards a couple of weeks back. Oakville's Trafalgar Ales and Meads won the "Newcomer of the Year" award.

So why is this funny or even unusual? Because the only thing older than Trafalgar Ales and Meads is some of the underwear I still own. Ladies, don't judge. Guys, you know what I'm saying, right? Don't even get me started on a tattered high school football jersey that two ex-wives and several girlfriends have tried to throw out. In vain. For the record, I didn't play one single down of high school football. I practised with the team just enough to score the jersey... and bailed. No biggie - 100% sure I sucked. But I have the jersey!

Way back in 1994, the brewery was established by Mike and Nancy Arnold and George Hengstman so really they're kinda like that old tattered football jersey (but, well, not as old and stanky.) So how did this Newcomer thing happen, you ask? Well, now, that's a damn good question and one I had to ask the brewery itself.

Roger Mittag has some pretty serious beer cred as
the man who created the Beer School, as well as
the Thirst for Knowledge program. Oh, did I
mention the Prud'homme Beer Certification
program he runs? Also, he clearly loves his stouts

Sarah from the brewery got back to me very quickly and explained it like this: "This was the first year we've submitted entries since 2007. (Co-organizer and juror) Roger Mittag felt that because we won so many brews in the competition, without competing or being involved for years, that we had reinvented ourselves."

So who's Roger? Well, as it turns out, Roger really knows his stuff. A former professor at Humber College's School of Hospitality, he entered the beer industry with Labatts and then left to found the Thirst For Knowledge, an organization that focuses on events celebrating the beer experience. Then he created The Beer School and because that wasn't quite enough, he went one step further, establishing the Prud'homme Beer Certification program, the first of its kind in Canada. So it would seem that Roger is, first and foremost, something of a Beer Professor. He's also definitely someone I want to meet in a professional capacity, him being the professional and me being... well, I guess that makes me the capacity. Not sure I've ever been that before but hey, always up for something new.

So as it turns out, there was some grumbling about a brewery not nearly as old as my football jersey winning Newcomer of the Year at the OBAs. So Roger went to his blog and hashed it out.

I'll be frank. Just don't. The Maple Leaf Lager, formerly
known as their Old Mill Elora Grand Lager, is virtually
indistinguishable from any of the mass-produced lagers.

Said Roger: "There are quite a few people out there who are more than happy to criticize the selection of our Newcomer of the Year this year... Trafalgar Brewing has been absent from the OBAs for a very long time and I, for one, was very happy they chose to return." Noting that they may tighten up the definition a little next year, he added in a parting blow: "It's very easy to observe from the outside and offer criticism. I'm more than happy to welcome help in managing and administering the competition and the awards ceremony."

Ouch, that's gonna leave a mark! Call the Burn Unit and, well, bring lots of ice. Frankly, if I were in that position, I would have said, "Put up or shut up, you whiny babies" but I like the way Roger phrased it much better. Far more eloquent than I am. Other things more eloquent than I am also include the Incredible Hulk and orange pylons.

I thought Trafalgar's ESB was fairly good while
their Irish Brown Ale was, what can I say, too thin.
Don't even ask me about that Honey IPA unless you
are truly eager to hear some nasty swear words...

Okay, so full disclosure. The first three Trafalgar beers I ever had was their Hop Nouveau, Honey IPA and Smoked Oatmeal Stout. To be honest, I ripped the first two to shreds in this space well over a year ago - one was flat-out poured down the drain.

I gave the Smoked Oatmeal Stout a passing grade and have had another since that time, simply because the first time, I drank it immediately after having a St Amboise (Montreal) Oatmeal Stout, which I instantly discovered was one of Canada's best. So I thought, "Okay, try again but this time, not after a big gun." And yeah, I thought it was pretty decent... but thin. ("Thin" will be a recurring comment with several of their beers.) After that, I tried their Maple Leaf Lager, again for this space. Little carbonation (another recurring theme) and zero complexity, even for a lager.

But at Christmas, long after after swearing off their products, I saw their Chocolate Orange Porter at the liquor store and thought, "Oh what the hell, it's only a few bucks."

Okay, what you are looking at here might just be the
best beer ever made by Trafalgar. The Mighty Oak
Imperial Oaked Brown Ale has a bit of complexity to
go with an outstanding rich barrel-aged flavour...

To my surprise, I quite liked it and said so in this space. A novelty beer, certainly, remarkably similar to those chocolate oranges you whack on a table during the holiday season, again, a little thin but kinda tasty and fun.  However, for a blog two St Patrick's Days ago, I had happily imbibed another of their products without realizing it. Turns out they also brew all the Black Creek Historical Brewery products you find at the liquor store and among my green offerings on the day was their Irish Potato Stout which as I recall, I found a little bit basic but still flavourful. It reminded me of that ancient Irish ditty sung by wee children of the Emerald Isle that goes something like... ♫ My potatoes bring all the Irish to my yard. And they're like, "That famine was hard. Damn right. That famine was hard..." ♫ Everyone knows that song.

So their history with me has been hit-and-miss, to be frank. But Sarah wasn't kidding about their reinvention. In the past year, they have recruited a couple of young hot shots from the Niagara Brewing College with one goal - to put a fresh shine on this old Edsel. After the OBAs, it's tough to argue the results. The little Oakville brewery that very much polarizes craft beer drinkers is mounting a something of a comeback.

Their Ginger Mead? Yeah, not gonna happen.
As hard as it is to believe, I do have standards...

So let's see what Trafalgar Ales and Meads brought to the winner's table at the Ontario Brewing Awards. They won three golds for Schwartzy (Stout), Pumpkin Ale (Vegetable Beer) and and Schwartzy Xpresso (Flavoured Porter/Stout). I will gladly try either of the Schwartzy beers and plan to nag the brewery until I get them. But the Pumpkin Ale, which apparently was one of the highest mark-scorers of the night, I can't try for one reason. Pumpkin. Sorry but I won't be Satan's minion.

They also won three silvers for Ginger Beer (Flavoured Beer), Raspberry Mint (Fruit Beer) and Ginger Mead (Gluten Free). Again, I applaud them but I can't try any of those for four reasons: ginger, mint, ginger and mead. To put it in "teenage girl", I can't even...

Their Black Creek Historical Brewery's "First Four
Decades Gift Pack" is a hodge-podge of brown ales and
stouts. I'm kinda getting brown ale-d out by these guys

But just a few weeks prior to their big night, I stopped into their brewery and grabbed a bunch of their products. Why? Two reasons. One, they are around the corner from where I work. And two, as dumb as this sounds, because of that Chocolate Orange Porter. It was different, quirky and I liked it. Let's start with the weakest links and move forward. The Black Creek Pale Ale was horrid. No real nose and an after-taste of acidic, metallic nastiness. In fact, it is so out of sorts with its RateBeer score (82 - the highest of any Trafalgar beer) that Beer Bro Stevil St Evil suggested I must have gotten an old-code beer. Perhaps but oh man... freaky bad. I may have to try it again.

Does this Irish Brown Ale look a little, well, light brown
to you? Because it sure as hell does to me. Not a winner.

It does get better... with a couple of exceptions. The Trafalgar Extra Special Bitter was pretty decent. Amber colour, some caramel on the nose, wee hoppiness on the tongue. I would buy it again. The brewery also makes a four-bottle gift-pack called the "First Four Decades" by Black Creek. Let's go through those quickly. The Dray Dark Horse is a brown ale and not a king slayer. Zero head, roasted malts on the nose, thin on the tongue. The Montgomery's Courage is a Specialty Grain amber ale that uses rye malts, giving it a little more kick but again, too lightly carbonated. Slightly peppery on the tongue so marks for that. My favourite here should have been the Riel's Dream Stout, one that relies heavily on Manitoba wheat. Kinda different. While it was fairly decent, I preferred the Rifleman's Ration, again a brown ale but this one had some zest. Nice coffee aroma, rich maltiness on the tongue. I was surprisingly impressed.

You see this tree? Residents of Oakville raised hundreds of
thousands of dollar to spare it the ax. So rather to cut it
down to widen Bronte Road, they built around it. What
can I say? The Town of Oakville takes trees very seriously

Okay, let's wrap this up with a lesser effort and then one that they knocked out of the park. Trafalgar's Irish Style Brown Ale - so thin, so non-carbonated, so nondescript. Find a Rifleman's Ration, instead. Or this next one.

But guys and gals, The Mighty Oak Imperial Oaked Brown Ale? I am not a brown ale fan at all and I also think this brewery might be a little too reliant on this not-very-inspirational style, to be brutally honest. But I seriously wish they had entered this bad boy in the OBAs. This is, frankly, the most complex beer these guys have ever produced. Oak-aged, this has coffee on the nose, as well as more coffee and chocolate on the tongue and was a nice little 7% blast, I will say it's one of the better brown ales I have ever had but let's be mindful, that's a little like saying you have a favourite Kardashian sister.

With some new young Niagara Brewing College
blood running amok in the brewery, perhaps
things are about to turn around for Trafalgar
Brewing. With six OBAs awards, maybe they
have already have turned the corner and we
just weren't paying attention? Wait and see

But the thing is I know the story behind The Mighty Oak. You see it's a tribute to a tree. Yes, a tree. In fact, it's about 255 years old now and lives smack-dab in the middle of Bronte Road near the Halton Regional Offices. I know this because I was a reporter/editor when a Public Works department report came down on widening Bronte Road and suggested cutting down the tree. I mean, an oak tree's lifespan is anywhere between 150 and 250 years - this one was already 245 years old. But no, this is my hometown, Oakville, where every home has at least five trees on its lot (likely a Town ordinance) and when the Region pegged the cost of saving the tree at about $350,000 (by building the road around it), a grassroots campaign to save it begun. Among those involved was Trafalgar Brewery, who created a wheat beer in honour of the tree and gave a portion of that beer's profits to the cause. I think the campaign pulled up shy by about $60,000 but the Town, the Region and the Province stepped up and split the balance. The tree was saved, the Town rejoiced, the villagers sang odes from the rooftops. Yes, it was all very weird to cover this story... on news-print... made from trees.

Okay, to the young Turks from Niagara College now cruising the vats at Trafalgar Brewing. A request, if I may. A strong IPA, followed by an Imperial IPA, followed by an Imperial Stout and finally, a top-notch black lager. Take your time. Next week. The week after. Whatever works for you. And for those out there still bemoaning the fact that Trafalgar won Newcomer of the Year, let me remind you of this. Remember when All-Star pitcher Roger Clemons returned to Major League Baseball at the age of 50? That is proof that if you work hard and dig deep within yourself... you can still lose your spot on the roster to Roger Clemons. Suck it up. Life is short. Okay, guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here!!! Until next time, I remain...