Sunday, April 29, 2007

don't give up the sip!


we'd like to say we didn't get that phrase from the front (and side, and side, and side) from the case of Commodore Perry we found in the back of the "Giant," (is it? is it really Giant?) Eagle, but we'd be lying, now wouldn't we? Sure. But we tried it, this day of hot summer-bespeaks-summer day, and we loved it. Let's not lie, the first time we tried it, it was on draft, it was at the Lizard that Winked, and we drank it down until That Bar was out.
Very light, and very "flowery," as they would say (they?!), it's a nice feeling, a nice taste. I would recommend it with a burger (or is that with two 'c's? two 'm's?), or a pork chop, or a t-bone, or a whatever, really. The Commodore Perry is one that is found seasonally, in the Summer, one that you wouldn't find naturally, really. Nice and hoppy, it is true to the IPA style, but nice and smooth among those you would consider "true discipiles" of the India Pale style. It tastes, smells, and looks like a beer you could enjoy with the most innundated-with-blu-cheese burger, the least blandest-of-least-flavorful-burger burger, the sharpest-but-mildest-goudaest-burger of sammy-est meat between two buns structured the way ANY "thing" could exist in the world, forever and ever, amen.
We present to you, The Commodore Perry. We relinquish this India Pale Ale to You, the Fan and the Forever Non-fan of the india pale ale (note the caps, dear and dear and dearests). And in general, we give it a regular...

Monday, February 26, 2007

Hell or Duvel!




We thought it would be best to review our newest beer here at Three Cheers for Beers. We're reviewing Duvel beer this week, and we admit, we were a little biased from the getgo (get-go? we don't know). You'll soon come to see that Belgians know how to make beer that please the tasters here at TC4Bs: flavorful, fun, and fruity. But we digress: the beer at hand is Duvel, and though we were impressed by their hip, chic, and jazzy-infused website, what we were really impressed by was its golden and light color which beguiled its deep and intense (we won't lie, it said it on the label) flavor. A little flowery, the aroma hints little of the beers we're used to. The head is incredible--the best we've ever seen--with a creamy, pure-white color floating at least an inch-plus above the very tippy-top of the rim of the substitute tulip glass we used to sample it. The perfect pour was easy for anyone who's poured any amount of Chimay (of any variety), and at a for-real rating of 8.5% alc/vol, even we had enough after two. Don't be fooled by the small (yet indie-approved!) bottle and the tad pricey (yet Belgian typical) tag--Duvel would be hell to miss.

The Basics

Let's begin: Stella Artois. We all know what separates us from those who order (without thinking, mind you!) the mic-ultra at the long table: a complete and total superiority complex. That, along with the fact that we don't like the way animal feces taste will foster any sort of appreciation for real, live beer in anyone, no matter how hardcore the theta chi. Or Beta Phi. Or whatever. Listen, we're here to help, not hurt. At any rate, let's say you've always been on board with the theory that if you're going to take in over a hundred calories per bottle, or buy alcohol at a dollar per bottle, or have a large amount of glass per volume of trash your landlady (or, for argument's sake, your mom) will take to the dumpster per week, you might as well enjoy it--that's why we exist. And we wouldn't gain any ground with You, the consummate consumer, if we didn't at once and at last, review that yuppiest of yups beer, Stella Artois.

We like it.

That's right, we like it. It's a golden ale that comes in a narrow, squarish green glassed bottle with a white label that boasts a beginning in 1366. It costs about fifteen (15) bucks a case, has a bit over 5.2% alc/vol, and it goes down quicker than you can say "abusive dependence." Even Murphy, the youngest of our judges, is going for it, which means it's Stella Artois, and we all like it, even you, you yuppie-wannabe indie-rocker George Wendt-wisher wallaby.

Even you.