To slake my thirst on honey wine: Bonfires & Battlecries by Nottingham Nectar

While not swarming with meaderies, Madison is home to two producers of mead and has been for several years. I learned this only a few weeks ago as I was combing area liquor stories in search of new varieties of the venerable drink. Bos Meadery has been out of commission for a while due to the meadery having to move because of renovations to the building it was located in. However, it sounds like they're back on their feet and shipping mead once more, although its availability seems more limited.

It seems that during the Covid lockdown, Colony Nectar Co. collapsed and morphed into Nottingham Nectar under new ownership. Honestly, I can't say I recall ever having heard of Colony Nectar and am unsure if this is because of their poor marketing and distribution or my lack of inquisitiveness. The latter, most likely.

The name and the illuminated N on the label brought the Robin Hood legend to mind along with visions of Falstaffian fellows enjoying the stuff by the flagon. Truth be known, the new name came from the new owner, Patrick Nottingham. The meads are made on the far southeast side of town at Restoration Cider's facilities which must be a hive of activity with all sorts of meads and ciders fermenting away. All four Nottingham varieties are session meads. That is, instead of being full strength wines with full bodies and no carbonation, these are more spritzer-like. They have about half the alcohol at 6% A.B.V. and are fizzy.

The intricacies of the adult beverage market are beeyond my ken so I am left to ponder whether the decision to make session meads exclusively was made after poring over the latest market data or if was more along the lines of guesswork. Other meaderies make these fizzy, lower alcohol meads as well so there's got to be something to it, I'd imagine. Perhaps the regular stuff is viewed as "your dad's mead" by younger people who seem to regard beers like Sierra Nevada Pale Ale as relics of a forgotten age.

Well, I don't want to drone on about the business side of mead so let's get to the liquid.

Nottingham makes 4 meads: strawberry, cherry, semi-sweet, and semi-dry. I tried the last of these called Bonfire & Battlecries. The going rate seems to be $16/4-pack but I found it a couple bucks cheaper at a certain grocery store on the east side who had upped the price out in the coolers but not in the computers as it came up at $13 and change for "Colony Nectar".

Bonfires & Battlecries is straw colored. Very light. If you were to casually look at the glass and then turn away, you might wonder why someone would put water in a wineglass. What a rube. It is clear and, while I have something of an idea of what to expect bubble-wise with beer, sparkling mead is a whole other kettle of fish, I guess. There was a smattering of bubbles inside but I expected more. I don't know why but I did. The aroma was of - drum roll - honey! It says "Wildflower Honey" on the label but I am unsure what expectations that should be setting up in the gustatory part of my brain. I smelled a scent that was earthy and floral with a dose of vanilla.

Despite the relative paucity of bubbles visible in the glass, this stuff had a firm fizziness to it. Underneath it, though, you could taste a smooth mead. The medium-light body yielded a mild honey sweetness, a little something floral, and vanilla. After a couple sips that vanilla taste became more prominent and the mead took on the complexion of cream soda, albeit a dry one. On the finish, the other honey flavors faded while the vanilla lasted a bit. All that fizz and presumably some tannins left a moderate astringency and a nice, dry ending.

This was tasty stuff! For my taste, it had the perfect dryness. You could discern some remaining sweetness yet it didn't become a tannin fest causing my lips to pucker and gyrate in a vain attempt to move some saliva around to moisten my poor parched mouth. The prominent vanilla taste was wholly unexpected yet quite welcome.

Junk food pairing: Bonfires & Battlecries pairs well with something cheesy. I prefer nacho cheese Bugles.

The Corona Diaries Vol. 56 - Postlude: Seldom Seen

 

(Photo by Howard Sherpe)

(Read entry #56.)

The Corona Diaries Vol. 56: Wildness Is a Necessity

(mid-June 2022)

Our trip to Iowa was the last overnight excursion we had planned for a while so it was back to dealing with the old homestead and keeping busy around town until we found an excuse to go somewhere else.

One Saturday morning in late May featured perfect weather so I got on my bike and was off. My first stop was just down the street – Starkweather Creek.

The situation was rather mellow on the water but the air was alive as birds flew from tree to tree and sounded out their calls with the Stentorian (for a small bird) squees of red-winged blackbirds being most noticeable, in addition to being easily recognizable for me.

I turned around and saw a family of Canada geese heading underneath the bridge. When they emerged on the other side, I was able to get some photographs before they disappeared downstream.

A short time later a couple mallard drakes swam by. Overall, things were rather quiet. There were no waterfowl locked in mortal combat nor any hideous half-fish, half-human creatures emerging from the murky depths with angry looks on their squamous faces so I figured it was time to head over to my beloved Acewood Park. When I was there last, it was snowing but now it was all verdant.

The goose eggs I saw back in April had hatched and the goslings were probably pooping on a nearby lake shore to the chagrin of local swimmers because that's what Canada geese do.

Well, a goose couple will be back next spring, I am sure, and the whole cycle of life shall begin anew.

Across the pond I spied a great blue heron.

I wandered over to that side of the pond but it was long gone when I got to that shore. I call this spot the Acewood Arch as 2 trees curve to frame the pond.

I noticed that some tree trunks that had fallen into the pond were a popular sunbathing spot that day.

So, I went into ninja stealth mode and slowly crept closer to the turtles. I don’t know that I have ever seen so many of them at one time. This photo captured about half of the sunbathers. After taking this picture, I made one teensy tiny silent(ish) step forward and most of them immediately jumped into the water after having sensed something on the shore. Oops.

It was a lovely time anyway. I didn’t see another human while I was there.

********

Sadly, I couldn’t spend all of my time out riding my bicycle or at a park. We need a new deck. I’d been putting off demolishing our old one but I finally got motivated and tore it down.

I took out a couple rows of screws and found that this provided enough leverage for me to just rip most of the boards up as they were quite rotten. I found 2 opossum nests which were both unoccupied. It had been a while since I’d seen the opossum wander out from underneath the deck so I was confident that it was dead or had moved on. Still, I didn’t want to rip up the boards and find a nest full of baby opossums that I’d be forced to find a home for.

It was a real half-assed job with the stringers touching the ground in spots and shimmed with bricks in others. I dug up the electric cord that had been used to run a fountain out in the yard as well as a rubber natural gas hose for a grill that I had tossed years ago. I was not expecting a concrete slab under there - it's floating - but it'll have to go so we can dig post holes. Uff da!

Now I just have to schedule a weekend with a friend to build a new desk. That and pay through the teeth for lumber.

********

A few months back I received a complementary issue of The Week, a, well, weekly magazine that presents a curated selection of articles and columns from other news outlets around the globe. The food section had a recipe for Gong bao ji ding which apparently translates as Sichuan chicken with peanuts. The picture accompanying the article looked very tasty so I decided to give it a try.

The recipe called for a few things I did not have on hand and didn’t think could be obtained at my local supermarket: light soy sauce or shoyu, Shaoxing wine,  Sichuan peppercorns, and Chinkiang vinegar. I went to a local spice store for the peppercorns and then my favorite Asian grocery store for the rest. Of course the liquids didn’t come in anything smaller than a quart and, since the recipe calls for about 2 tablespoons of each, I am good on these ingredients for years to come.

It turned out pretty well, I thought.

Next time I am going to cut down the peanut payload and up the chili count. I didn’t want to go overboard on the heat lest the Frau find it inedible but I was overly cautious. Oh, and more green onion too.

********

I was given a copy of Ben Logan’s The Land Remembers: A Story of a Farm and Its People by a friend of mine, Jason, whom you met in a previous entry. He’s the baseball nerd. The book is an autobiographical account of growing up on a farm in southwestern Wisconsin’s Driftless Region. That is, where there were no glaciers during the last ice age

When I started the book, I didn’t know when it was published nor when the events chronicled therein took place. Before long it occurred to me that the farm didn't appear to have electricity. I looked it up and found that the events took place in the 1930s. I am unsure when rural electrification came to that part of the state.

The book is a folksy account of life on the farm, Logan’s family (parents and 3 brothers), and the area around the farm and its inhabitants. When new-fangled farming methods came along, Logan’s father was skeptical and kept with the tried and true until the new ones proved themselves. The kids found fun out in the countryside, not in front of a television.

I was reminded of one of my grandmothers who told me a bit about growing up on a farm. Every Wednesday she had to scrub the outhouse floor, she reminisced one time. In 1933 she went to Chicago to see the World’s Fair. Upon discovering electricity and indoor plumbing, she vowed not to return to the farm.

Reading the book made me glad I did not grow up on a farm. It is back-breaking work and the hours are terrible. When I was in high school up north, I helped out friends who did live on farms with chores but it was the easy stuff like collecting chicken eggs, stacking bales of hay, slopping a pig, etc. I have great respect for people who choose to farm the land and am happy to support my local farmers at the grocery store. But that life just isn’t for me.

********

I recently went to see Petite Maman, a film by French director Céline Sciamma. Her last film, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, was not only enjoyable, but it was the last movie I saw in a theater before the Covid lockdowns began. So going to see this felt a bit like coming full circle.

It concerns a young girl named Nelly whose maternal grandmother has died. She and her parents head out to the grandmother’s house to empty it so that it can be sold. Nelly meets a girl her own age named Marion and things get a bit weird.

In case anyone who hasn’t seen it but wants to, I won’t give too much away but, at some point, I asked myself, “Is that that the same house as in the previous scenes?”

I found it to be a nice, little examination of the mother-daughter relationship which I suppose you can broaden to be parent-child. It is interesting thematically and had an expected twist to boot.

********

Bonus photo! Here’s a neat mural with a lake theme. Those squares bring the old video game Q*bert to mind.

 

(Go to the postlude.)

The Corona Diaries Vol. 56 - Prelude: Spicy Sichuan

(Continue to entry #56.)

The Grain of Hoponius: Hoponius Union by Jack's Abby

A couple weeks ago I was doomscrolling through Twitter when I saw something that made me do a double take replete with record scratch sound and all: Brennan's was selling some brews from Jack's Abby, the lager mill out in suburban Boston.

I've wanted to try their beers ever since I first became aware of them. They brew lagers and only lagers so natürlich I was intrigued by these patient young upstarts. Although they eschew ales, the folks there are mindful of trends and so they have pale lagers made with the latest, fruitiest tasting hops as well as Baltic porters that have spent time aging in spirit barrels after being adulterated with pastry flavors. Such beers don't hold much interest for me but I certainly appreciate that they brew more than fizzy yellow stuff with Noble hops in it. More to my taste are Rauchbiers and unfiltered brews as well as highly non-Reinheitsgebot complaint ones such as a lemongrass lager, that aren't part of any hip trend.

On a recent weekend I made a trek out to Brennan's and found that they carried 4 of Jack's "Core" beers which are beers that they brew year-round, or mostly so, anyway. On offer were: House Lager (a Landbier), Post Shift (Pilsner), Blood Orange Wheat (Radler), and Hoponius Union (Hoppy Lager). When I saw that the Radler was 4% A.B.V., I decided to pass on it as I figured it was a flavored beer rather than a mix of beer and soda. Stiegl's Grapefruit Radler remains the gold standard for me.

I wasn't in the mood for a pils and thought that Landbier sounded like a very tasty option plus we don't have very many of them in these parts. I opened the cooler door and reached for a 4-pack of it when I made an audible worthy of Aaron Rodgers himself. Some kind of madness suddenly came over me and my arm moved to the left where my hands grabbed the Hoponius Union.

My post hoc rationalization was that stepping out of my comfort zone is a good thing. Embracing new flavors broadens the palate and builds character. And so on.

The can said "HOPPY LAGER" in bold, friendly, green letters. Brooklyn Lager is billed as a hoppy lager. I like Brooklyn Lager. So no problem, right? It was when I got home and turned a can around to read the back of the label that I understood what I had gotten myself into. There was ad copy to the effect of the beer being like a West Coast IPA but without the A.

At first I was horrified because of my indifference to, bordering on disdain for, American IPAs. Owing to this, I didn't know what West Coast IPAs were supposed to taste like any longer. However, I'd been enjoying Sierra Nevada Pale Ale lately and figured it would be like that, more or less.

Hoponius Union was a lovely gold color with a faint haziness to it which seemed to clear up after the beer warmed a bit. A goodly sized crown of loose, white foam lasted an average amount of time. There was a fair number of bubbles loose inside. The aroma was mainly fruity in nature with a mix of something tropical like a mango or passion fruit and a mélange of citrus scents redolent of grapefruit and orange. I also caught something floral in there too.

Taking a sip, I found that the beer had a medium-light body cut by a good, firm fizziness. Those fruity smells were here in the taste as was the floral bit. Something piney lurked below the surface while a faint malty/bread taste was beneath that. The floral and fruity elements faded on the finish allowing that piney/resiny taste come through. The bitterness was substantial, but not off-putting, and the finish rather dry.

Although Hoponius Union comes in 16 oz. cans, I found that 8 oz. was enough for me and I believe this was for 3 reasons. First, there is too little malt flavor. It's probably par for the course for an IPL these days, but both Brooklyn Lager and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale both have fine malt flavors and I guess I simply hoped there'd be more here. The last time I drank an India Pale Lager was back in 2016 and I could taste the malt. Old dog meet new tricks. Second was the Hawaiian Punch Effect where big fruity hop flavors give the illusion of the beer being sweet - and cloyingly so - even though it's not particularly sweet at all. Lastly, my tongue simply finds the fruity/floral & pine/resiny combination here to be just overly disharmonious. It's like they're two great taste that just don't taste great together. I am unsure if it is that mixture in and of itself or if perhaps it was the strength of the flavors here that caused such gustatory discord.

I lean towards the latter as I find the pine/fruit combination found in Sierra Nevada's classic to be quite tasty. I've had pilsners flavored with new fruity tasting hops but they were applied judiciously, giving those beers fruity accents. Here those flavors are about as subtle as Brian Blessed.

I am certainly not going to pour my remaining cans down the drain but I will split each with my Frau or perhaps use some to cook those habenero & carrot sausages she just purchased.

Next time I am sticking with my gut instinct and going with the Landbier. Or the pils. Or maybe both.

Junk food pairing: Try something spicy to go with your Hoponius Union like Paqui's Haunted Ghost Pepper Tortilla Chips.

The Corona Diaries Vol. 55 - Postlude: Like the Sun

Go back and read entry #55.

The Corona Diaries Vol. 55: A Tale of Two Campuses

(late May 2022)

(Watch this entry's prelude.)

While it is a bit chilly outside, the signs of spring are undeniable. Our neighbors' chickens are no doubt grateful that winter is over and they can now roam the yard and peck away at something other than snow and not fall ass over teakettle when they find themselves mistakenly scratching on ice.

The lilac bushes in our yard are in bloom and smelling lovely. One is right outside of our bedroom window and every year I look forward to that ephemeral treat of having its scent waft in on a cool breeze.

A pair of peregrine falcons have made some nook or cranny of the power station downtown their home and the power company has kindly put a webcam up at the nest for the voyeuristic types among us. The falcons recently became parents as their eggs hatched for the world to see.

The "food forest" down a couple blocks from us has begun to bloom. It had been a large patch of grass at a corner but was made into a community garden a couple of years back. Presumably the summer will bring a series of farmers/makers markets at this spot just like last year. My crafty neighbors will hawk their wares while those with green thumbs will have the fruits of their gardens for sale. At least one of those gardens is rather large and outside of the city.

 

Somehow I managed to get a decent photograph of a bird. Sheer luck. Here's a grackle hanging out on the nearby railroad bridge with a rather stern look.

 

********

Several entries ago I noted that a local artist had folks donate their Christmas trees to create a labyrinth down the street on the shores of Lake Monona. It turns out that Madison has quite a few labyrinths, most of which seem to be at some kind of religious institution. I discovered one at the front of a church on a recent bike ride.

********

Meanwhile, back in Iowa…

It didn't take long to get to Iowa City from Cedar Rapids. Our hotel was just a block away from the theatre where Valerie June was playing that night. It was also about 2 blocks from the University of Iowa campus. I didn't realize until a few days beforehand that Iowa City was home to the Hawkeyes, my alma mater's sports rivals. Having been in Minneapolis a couple weeks previously, it seemed that we were unconsciously making a tour of Big Ten cities.

The hotel was decorated in an Iowa/Hawkeye motif with our room having a baseball theme which included a photo from Field of Dreams. The wallpaper in the hallway was corny (ahem) but appropriate. I suspect that most non-Iowans are like me in that they associate the state with corn. But a lot of meat processing happens here as well. (See, for example, the book Postville.)

The Frau opted for a little nap so I took the opportunity to wander around for a spell.

As is my wont, I began looking for ghost signs and found a few. Here's one for the Hotel Jefferson which the internet says opened in 1913. A couple more storeys were added in the 1920s which explains the multiple cornices or whatever you call those horizontal thingies. The hotel closed in 1967 and I think it's now offices.

There were plenty of murals to be had. Being a film buff, I especially appreciated this one.

Our hotel was right on a pedestrian mall that ran a block north-south on Dubuque Street and a couple blocks east-west on East College Street.

It was a nice, cozy area populated by bars, restaurants, and shops with space to sit outside. Although it had a similar feel to State Street here in Madison, this was a no motor vehicle affair. Judging by the specials listed in the tavern windows, it would no doubt see bands of roaming college kids come nightfall. (E.g. - 21 birthday pitchers of Busch Light at one place were to be had for a mere $25.) There was also a storefront theatre called the Riverside (it is 4-5 blocks from the Iowa River).

Across the street from it was a non-profit art house cinema called Film Scene. 

I was more than a little jealous as Madison has neither. In fact, our downtown has 0 dedicated cinemas these days. There are multi-purpose spaces, such as at the Madison Museum of Contemporary Art, that feature movies but do so only periodically. To make matters worse for cinephiles, our last remaining 2nd run movie theatre closed in 2021, and we are looking at another cinema shuttering its doors later this year as the mall it is located in remodels and the surrounding area gets redeveloped. While not an art house per se, it does show arty, independent, and foreign films. Plus, it is the last remaining commercial cinema on a bus route and not in a purely suburban area on the outskirts of town accessible by car alone.

I made my way to what seemed to be the oldest part of campus. There was this, the Old Capitol Museum.

It was surrounded by university buildings which gave the area a look that was familiar to me.

Iowa City:

Madison:

(Photo found here.)

This part of the U of I campus had its charms but the buildings, as evidenced by the photo above, were almost uniformly grey. It was a bit dreary walking amongst them. 

Around the back of the museum was a hill, just as we have here.

Iowa City:

Madison:

(Photo found here.)

While I am certainly biased, there can be little doubt to even the most objective observer that Madison wins this one.

Evening approached so it was back to the hotel to freshen up for the concert.

The Englert Theatre was built in 1912 as a vaudeville joint but it's now a multi-use space and is a lovely old spot for a show. Not knowing much about Valerie June, I was curious to see how many of us there would be in attendance. As it happened, most of the seats got filled and I was pleased to see a lot of people wearing masks as well.

 

One Chastity Brown began the night with a spirited set. She was thrilled as pie to be performing in front of people again. With no band to back her, she accompanied herself alternately on electric piano and guitar with the odd electronic beat. I really liked her new song, "Like the Sun".

(Photo found here.)

I first encountered Valerie June 2 or 3 years ago when I was looking for a particular version of the song "Tribulations" by Estil C. Ball as recorded by Alan Lomax and instead found June's lovely rendition. Before long I discovered that, in addition to folk, her music incorporates R&B, bluegrass, soul, pop – just about any American music you can name.

While I was largely unfamiliar with June's set, I did recognize a few of the songs. In the middle of the proceedings, she donned a cape that had rainbow-colored lights in it which made for quite a sight. At the end of her version of Nick Drake's "Pink Moon", she did a little dance as her band played on with the cape enshrouding her body before flowing over her head making for an enchanting luminous spectacle.

Like Chastity Brown, June was excited to be out performing in front of people after a Covid-induced hiatus. She and her band were surrounded by flowers that were beautiful and gave a spring vibe. Her tone was relentlessly upbeat, offering ebullient invitations to forget about those Covid blues and instead lose ourselves in the music. I cannot recall a concert where there was so much smiling to be seen onstage. 
 

It was a wonderful night with some great performances leaving me with a lot of music to investigate. And the Englert was just a lovely place to boot.

********

 
Bonus photo. I saw this on a bike ride. Is it a tympanum? I wonder what business was there that was symbolized by swords and a helm.

 

(Continue to the postlude...)

The Corona Diaries Vol. 55 - Prelude: June

Continue to entry #55.
 

A Fully Armed and Operational Great Taste of the Midwest

Thirsty hordes descended upon Madison last weekend to spread the carpet of merrymaking and tread the path of excess. The occasion was the 34th Great Taste of the Midwest where brewers from throughout the greatest region of this country assemble to slake thirsts and showcase their mad fermenting skillz. My Frau lucked out and won the ticket lottery and so we went for the first time in a few years.

Covid forced the cancellation of the festival in 2020 and I believe last year's edition was smaller and abbreviated. So this year marked a return to normality for the festival.

I felt a moment of sadness on the way there as the shuttle bus passed by the new apartments going up at Lakeside and Sayle. The VFW post that they displaced was the site of many fun after-Great Taste festivities back in the late 1990s. One time the bartender - for reasons lost in the mists of time - decided it would be fine if we assumed phone answering duties on her behalf. Things turned out OK, I guess. No one died, anyway.

When we arrived at Olin Park I was surprised to see that there was a cluster of tents in the grassy promenade area where everyone impatiently waits for the gates to open. This arrangement seemed new to me but my memory may be faulty. There were grey clouds to the west and, although I could count the number of raindrops I noticed all day on one hand, the sun only made the occasional appearance while we were there.

For my past several Great Tastes, I set out to sample all of the Rauchbiers/smoke beers and, upon completing that task, it became a free for all where I tasted whatever caught my eye. Sometimes it was an obscure style that had been dusted off while at others a common one flavored with an uncommon spice fit the bill. I am not immune to the lure of the cleavage of a buxom woman clad in a dirndl either.

My strategy was much the same this year and I had marked up my map with the plans: I would start with a beer near the entrance before performing a series of lateral obliques whereby we'd make our way to the various tents and pick off the Rauchbiers one by one. Then, in a pincer movement, we'd take care of the meads.

I kicked off the festivities with a Gose from Obscurity Brewing and Mead. Not only were they near the entrance but, unlike most Goses being poured there, theirs was unfruited. Why do brewers not want me to taste coriander? What do they have against its linalool goodness? 

So how was my first taste of the fest? It was great! A pleasant tartness and a little salinity was a fine way to start the drinking day. I resolved to return as they had not one but two braggots on offer and I never pass up the chance to try the toothsome hybrid of mead and ale.

The program noted that Virtue Cider would be pouring multiple meads that day but there were none to be had when we stopped by. However, my disappointment was replaced by temptation when I noticed a lavender/bee pollen cider on the menu. Flowers and floral tastes are woefully underappreciated in the world of food and drink, in my opinion. Like Eve at the Tree of Knowledge, both my Frau and I surrendered to the allure of an apple...cider laced with lavender. The cider was purple and had a fantastic aroma full of floral goodness. As far as the taste went, the lavender wasn't as prominent as I'd hoped. And ooh it was tart! Good stuff but I wish it tasted a bit more floral.

My first smoke beer of the day was to have been a "Grodziskie style Lager" from Falls City Beer but I guess their plans fell through (ahem) as their spot was occupied by a forlorn table instead of smiling faces eager to pull a draught. I dropped to my knees in despair and screamed unto the heavens, "Gambrinus, why hast thou forsaken me?!" A hand came into view and it helped me to my feet once more as a voice said, "I think you're ready now, Skip" and led me to the table next door where the Blue Heron Brewpub had an English mild. What a treat! It was low alcohol with a little caramel and a leathery flavor plus some herbal hops. Simply delicious.

We wandered over to visit Indy's Broad Ripple Brewpub hoping that A) they had showed up and B) had their Grodziskie in tow. Thankfully they had and they did. Although it rather looked like a hazy IPA, there was no tropical fruit to be found and instead it had a lovely smoky aroma. Curiously enough, there was also an odd creamy scent in there. Otherwise it was very good with a stronger hop taste than I have encountered in the piwo previously. Broad Ripple needs a spot on Georgia Street during GenCon so I can grab a pint of this salubrious stuff after having lost my sanity during a round of Call of Cthulhu.

Next we tried Sketchbook Brewing's take on the style. It was smokier and fizzier than Broad Ripple's brew but less hoppy. Ron Pattinson once offered me his sagacious advice that Grodziskie should be smoky, hoppy, and fizzy. Therefore, if I combined these 2 beers I'd have the ideal brew.

The final Grodziskie that I sampled was from Final Gravity Brewing out of Decatur, Michigan. It tasted like a different style of beer altogether as I couldn't discern any smoke but a lot of fruit. My tongue? Mispour? Something was amiss.

At some point my Frau and I parted ways briefly. She made a, uh, beeline for B. Nektar Meadery. Now, I've been drinking mead lately but I couldn't bring myself to follow in her footsteps after I found that she had procured some of their Strawberry Cream Delight. While she rather liked it, I didn't go for a taste after smelling it and finding the aroma to be like every strawberries & cream junk food I've ever encountered. Don't get me wrong, B. Nektar makes some fine meads. Indeed, we have a bottle in our refrigerator as I type. Maybe I simply wanted something less potent or just wasn't in the mood for gimmickry.

I stopped in at Half Acre who were pouring the only other unfruited Gose I saw in the program. While it had a nice sourness to it, the beer was imbued with wholly unexpected musky overtones. Weird.

Against the Grain's Rauchbier was very tasty as was the Smoked Kölsch from Chicago's Burnt City Brewing. My Frau commented pithily, "It's smoky and Kölschy." ÆppelTreow's sparkling perry was wonderful. It reminded me of just how tasty pears are and made for an ebullient palate cleanser between Rauchbiers. Back on the mead front, Square One out of St. Louis had a grapefruit melomel which was really tasty with a bit of citrus tartness and a fine honey flavor.

On the way out we paid Obscurity another visit as I was keen on sampling their braggots. First up was Tow City, a braggot hefeweizen. The honey flavor accented a hefeweizen that led with that style's banana taste. I prefer banana over clove and bubblegum when it comes to weissbier so this was a nice surprise.

Good Kiss is their braggot IPA. I guess it was a West Coast braggot IPA because I tasted that piney hop flavor along with a tropical fruit mélange where pineapple stood out for me. The mead had taken the place of the malt here providing a light, fairly dry pillow for the hoppy flavors to lounge upon. That contrast of the honeyed dryness (as opposed to a sweet malt backbone) with the fruity hop flavors was simply delectable.

For me, the braggot IPA takes the prize for best overall taste of the Great Taste. It's a novel brew, to me, anyway, and I loved what the meady elements did to the venerable piney-fruity hop combo.

As beers go, Blue Heron's English Mild and Broad Ripples Grodziskie were the highlights for me and my palate. I liked the leathery/herbal taste of the former while the latter's smoke and firm Noble hoppiness made it stand out.

I also tasted some mediocre to poor lagers. If someone with better math skills than me were to extrapolate out from the showing last weekend, I'd bet they'd find that there are thousands of craft breweries in this country making sub-optimal lagers. I tried a dark lager at the fest that tasted like chocolate wort while an imperial Rauchbier was watery. Uff da! These experiences make me appreciate breweries such as Sprecher, New Glarus, and Working Draft who brew lagers well.

One thing that stood out for me was how wonderful low alcohol brews can be. That mild, the Grodziskies, and the Goses were all 3.5%-4%ish A.B.V. and provided nice counterpoints to maltier, fuller-bodied brews and some 10%+ meads. Plus, they were especially welcome in the warm weather.

Some lack of lagering skills aside, my Frau and I tried some fine adult beverages at the Taste and look forward to next year's.