This post is dedicated to Ed at The Dogs of Beer. He’s a passionate pub-patron crawling the local Delaware beer scene, and you should really go read his blog. It’s funny and full of expert opinions on local craft.
(As a side note, I really think Ed should know that Googling, “Dogs of Beer” comes up with this link before his blog. Awesome.)
Because Ed’s ‘hood is our country’s first state, I opted to review a native Delawarian beer. I love Fordham Brewing (of Dover), but I couldn’t find the right beer to do Ed justice. I settled on large “pint-and-then-some” bottle from everyone’s favorite beach brewery, Dogfish Head.
Dogfish Head – My Antonia (an inner monologue of an exhausted, overworked grad student):
Get home late from Monday night class. Could go for a beer. Should also take pictures for a blog post. Also very, very hungry. Sleepy, too. Conflicting baser priorities!
Wife is out of the country. She’s usually really helpful with this whole “being an adult” thing. Could just eat some frosted flakes and go to bed, but somehow that seems barbaric. Even slightly cavemanish.
OK, beer first. No, food. No, sleep. Wait, where’s the camera? Screw this, multitasking.
Bread! Bread is good. This bread is pretty stale. Oh well, slice it up anyway. Or just crumble it into pieces. Whatever.
The bread needs something. Hummus? Yea, hummus. Smells kinda really bad. Beer kills germs, right? Just dip the hunks of rock-bread into the hummus like crackers. No one is here to judge you except the cat. Stop judging me, cat.
Rock-bread should be called thirst-bread. Crack the beer, pour into the glass. Lots of hops! This is a continually hopped imperial pilsner that smells like a pale ale and is the same color as the birch wood of my IKEA table. I’m OK with it. Take a hearty swig to wet my whistle. Tongue and throat are overwhelmed with flavor. Head spins with fatigue and delight.
There is a heavy, sweet aftertaste. Hummus goes well with it, but something is missing. Dig around in the fridge. Half-rotten cucumber? Nah. Some day-old spaghetti still sitting in the strainer? Um, no. A not-expired package of thinly sliced Hillshire Farms honey roasted turkey breast? Score! Go meat!
When the cat’s away, the mice will barely be able to clothe and feed themselves. They will also sleep through their alarms and be late for work.
Mmmm, turkey goes well with stale bread and questionable hummus. Even better with the cascade of noble hops that come from my next sip of My Antonia. Decide to fill the glass to the brim, because let’s not kid ourselves, I’m going to drink all of this right now.
Beer fizzes enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically. Starts to near top of glass. No signs of slowing. Suck foam off of top in a vain attempt to prevent overflow and spillage of precious beer. Spill beer, scare cats. Swear. Find paper towels and clean up mess.
TV? I guess. Futurama! Shit yea! This assortment of flavors is actually really tasty. My Antonia is a flavor enhancer. Write that down. Take pictures before you drink it all, moron.
Slight buzz + long day + very tired = thinking my photos are the height of modern art.
Pictures look good. Getting pretty tired. Should probably sleep. Nice taste in my mouth to go to bed: hops, honey, hummus.
I think Ed would like this beer. I should write a blog post about that. It’s like a pilsner and an IPA had delicious brew-babies. Write that down.
9.5 out of 10.
