The concept that I’m not much of a planner when it comes to beer has been pretty well-established at this point, right? I seem to recall explaining how despite my best intentions, I’ve never successfully managed to create anything even remotely like a safe haven for long term beer aging/cellaring/storage. You know, because when I find a beer I want I have the patience of a 12-week old Labrador Retriever with a fetch stick being shaken in his face.
Just in case you’re not dog people, that looks something like:
Didhethrowityet? wag-wag-wag-wag-hop-hop-hop Didhethrowityet? hop-hop-hop-circle-circle-circle-circle Didhethrowityet? wag-wag-wag-wag
Wow, when I put it that way, it’s no wonder the Puddinette won’t go into beer stores with me anymore.
Anyway, being incapable of hording tasty beverages for a rainy day occasionally has its advantages. The foremost being that when you want something, you have to go out and get it.
Now, I know that can seem like a hassle, but the fact is, sloth is a key factor in any mid-evening decision-making process. In other words, if I had a six-pack of Moerlein OTR in the fridge but was jonesin’ for a roasty, chocolatey imperial stout (and let’s be honest: who doesn’t get that little twitch every now and then?), odds are still pretty good I’d drink the OTR on hand rather than have to change out of my fuzzy bunny slippers.
But, see, since I rarely have any beer in the fridge for planned consumption, I typically have no choice in the matter. It’s either go get what I want, or put on my bonnet and drink one of my wife’s fruity Seagram’s Coolers.
I mean, sure they’re made from malt and everything, but that’s a stretch even my profound laziness can’t overcome.
So, off to the store I go. And on such trips – the kind we’ve all made – every now and then, when the stars align and the Fates are kind, you’ll find not only what you’re looking for, but something you didn’t even know existed.
Which is exactly what happened to me this last week. When I slipped out to procure an evening nip, I stumbled upon Founder’s Devil Dancer, a beer I’d never heard of before the moment I laid eyes on it.
This tale of happy surprise leads to Puddin’s Reason #163 Why It Rules to Believe in Better Beer: Because with so many brewers working their magic these days, there seems an endless flood of new and interesting brews out there. Which means that with just a smidgen of luck, you’re bound to occasionally be in the right place at the right time to take home a beer you didn’t even know you should be looking for.
Some of you might even be able to keep exciting beers like those around for a few weeks. If you’re patient.
Not likely my Devil Dancer, though, will survive Thursday night.