It's Miller Time (to improve your product)

Every Miller Lite commercial is about the new and innovative way in which the company has packaged/delivered its product. The most recent invention: The Vortex bottle, which spins the liquid as it comes out of the bottle (to aerate it, I suppose. This works with wine, so I guess the thinking is this works for the champagne of beers as well).

Don't let "Great Pilsner Taste" fool you as a proof of concept: It's also written on the bottle and in the logo.

Miller Lite does this all the time. In 2008 Miller announced it would be offered in aluminum bottles, and in 2009 it created The Draught Box which reminds me of the beer balls of my youth. (Now there's a phrase that will come back to haunt me.)

The Draught Box. Because only the highest-quality alcoholic beverages come from a box.

Enough with the stupid packaging - a bottle is a bottle. Where's the product innovation?

I swear when people tell me they "enjoy the taste" I want to punch them in the beer balls, because no human in civilized society should like the taste of his/her own urine.

Black Eye Beer Company has a good point: Where's the proof that the Vortex Bottle, or any other packaging changes, has any impact on flavor whatsoever?

Here's a novel idea: Try making money at doing business by actually improving the product. Are you afraid of a "New Coke" debacle? Even Coca-Cola rebounded from that to again dominate its market. But there's a difference: Coca-Cola took a gamble and changed its core formula, and while many taste-testers enjoyed the new taste the company still buckled to public pressure and re-introduced its old formula, leading Coca-Cola Classic to dominate its younger sibling, Coke II (New Coke). But it originally offered a likable product - Miller's not as lucky.

Going from utter crap to something a little more like real beer would be a good gamble, I don't care what the pee-drinkers say.

Troegs beer: Many misses, few hits

John and I before we were interrupted by a robbery and a shrieking woman.

Earlier this week I met John Trogner. John and his brother, Chris, founded the Troegs brew company in 1996 in central Pennsylvania, making them the longest continuously operating business left in central Pennsylvania.
(Full disclosure: I can't figure out the umlaut but there is one over the "O" in Troegs.)
He was in town for Boston's Craft Brew Week, which culminates in a craft beer festival this weekend that I unfortunately will miss due to a previous engagement (which is now a full-blown wedding). John and I got to talking briefly about the history of his beer, and the offerings on tap at The Kinsale that evening. I was gingerly sampling a Troegenator, the brewery's double bock.

Looks better than it tastes.

As double bocks go, I was disappointed by the lack of body to this beer. It should have bigger balls than this limp offering. I found these reviews to be a little over the top, though the only possible explanation I have is that I had it from a fresh keg and it hadn't aged properly. That, or the Kinsale never cleans its tap lines.
I have had another negative experience with a Troegs brew: Mad Elf Ale, which unfortunately lived up to its name: Mad Elf. As in, directly after my second swig of this liquid cinnamon bomb a small bearded man ran up to me and punched me square in the ornaments. So maybe I can't blame the Trogner brothers for that particular experience.
On my second sampling of Mad Elf, however, I learned that I really don't like these overly spiced "holiday" offerings from Sam Adams, Harpoon, Lakefront, Troegs ... and though I love everything from Dogfish Head you can throw Sahtea in the mix as well. I'm not overly sensitive to spice - just ask my coworkers who challenged me to down an espresso cup full of hot sauce. I just think craft brewers are going a little nuts with it, and Mad Elf falls sadly into this trap.
There is one Troegs brew I've found to have an even body, crisp taste and multiple layers of fruit, hops, and honey though with a slight bitterness at the end:

Troegs' saving grace

Of the five Troegs beers I've tried (DreamWeaver and Nugget Nectar are the others not mentioned here - you'll see why in a second) this is the only one I found to be not watered down. And I'm sorry, every reviewer on the Web who tastes a Troegs, but watery is not synonymous with drinkable. Only the Hop Back has made me want to come back to Troegs, and it's what led me to sitting outside the Kinsale this week drinking yet another Troegs.
I wish John and I weren't so rudely interrupted by the woman sitting next to me who suddenly screamed "STOP THAT MAN!!!!!!" while her husband took off down the street chasing the guy who stole his wallet, because I wanted to give John my honest take on his beer. I don't hate it, so please don't take this as an overwhelmingly negative deconstruction of the only business keeping central Pennsylvania alive. Indeed, the many drinkers cited above are proof positive they're doing something right.
I should be blown away by a beer with a name as massively awesome as TROEGENATOR. I'm just not. But like its namesake famously said, "I'll be bock."

The BEER extravaganza!!!

It's St. Patrick's day!! So how could I blog about anything but BEER!

Marcy and I were given a $30 gift card to Beers of the World for a wedding gift. Thanks, Dave!

That was Oct. 27, 2007.

A month later, we bought as many new and interesting beers as we could with it (and threw in some cash of our known). Our goal: Try as many beers as we could (and throw in a couple we liked already.)

In the interest of full disclosure, I tried the last beer tonight. Yes, for a year and a half, the bottle of Skullsplitter you see here has resided in our fridge, waiting for a day when Marcy and I could devote the kind of dissection and consideration we reserved for the other beers on our list.

Well, here we are on St. Patricks Day, March 17, 2009, and I opened the bottle tonight. And it had chunks in it. And it tasted like charred raisins. And it was gross.

SO ... minus a bottle of Skullsplitter (I drank a Blithering Idiot to make up for it) we present our views on a random batch of beer, the nectar that fuels all good things.

1. Brooklyn Brewery's Dark Chocolate Stout

With Marcy to my left on the hand-me-down couch that forms the forest green centerpiece of our small living room, we sat staring at The Soup as Joel McHale conferred his wisdom.

At this particular meal we toasted Dave Wheeler, the guy who made this evening possible.

The Dark Chocolate Stout has a thick, cocoa-y feeling that gives off chocolate notes at first, but quickly converts to a bouquet of hops and a sweet alcoholy finish.

It elicited a hearty belch from the depths of the stomach, and is good for any time of the year (though the brewery only makes it in the fall).

It's somewhat filling, and did we mention it packed a punch?

It's overall a very satisfying dark brew.

2. Samuel Smith's Imperial Stout

This was a heartwarming addition to a hearty meal of split pea soup, bread, and broccoli/cheese bites.

One bottle shared between the two of us lasted thorugh Ninja Warrior and Everybody Loves Raymond.

On this particular Monday, we switched it up on the counch - me on the left, Marcy on the right.

We toasted to a successful 2008 for both of our careers. And that worked ... Marcy was laid off, and I was promoted.

Te stout had strong caramel overtones finished by a cigar-smoke bitterness. And not the second-hand-smoke kind, either.

The Samuel Smith produces a full-bodied but dry burp.

It's very dark; try to look through it and it's like trying to see thorugh a brick.

3. St. Peter's Cream Stout

St. Peter's comes in a nondescript bottle. It's best enjoyed not ice-cold.

We had it with a meal of broiled beef blanketed with melted Gorgonzola, french fries, and broccoli while watching Ghost Hunters.

We tried this on a random Wednesday night sitting across from our Christmas tree.

The stout is dark, sinfully so, but not thick. It's easy to drink and has a nutty overtone, with a finish like molasses but less sweet.

It has a higher carbonation than most stouts, and would be well-paired with red meat.

The toast for this particular evening was to the holidays, family, and my wife.

4. Young's Luxury Double Chocolate Stout

Seeing a pattern here? We learned a lesson: Stout goes with just about anything.

Young's was nicely paired with a ham & cheese panini, broccoli, and roasted corn. We apparently also eat a lot of broccoli.

While watching How It's Made and Jack of All Trades, we enjoyed our Saturday night with a dark, dark brown concoction that was hard to put down.

The Dnouble Chocolate was very much like dark chocolate - smooth, but not sweet. The chocolate lended itself to the taste of a porter - it felt like a thin milkshake.

It also lended itself to a toast: To future home improvement projects and Team Mahoney (including Joxer).

5, Wychcraft Ale

Another night of Jack of All Trades brought a dinner that did not involve broccoli.

The amber ale was served in Guinness pint glasses and was paired with Italian sausage, baked beans, and boiled potatoes.

The Wychcraft is wheaty and dry, light and airy with a scent of mead and faint flowers. It has a smooth, honey aftertaste.

We toasted to Jack of All Trades and the Jack of our future. Take that as you will.

That's it for tonight's beer review. The rest of the beer is assuredly recommended; you should go out and try it right away:

Bluepoint Brewery's Toasted Stout

Dogfish Head's Midas Touch

Framboise Lambic

Beamish

St. Patrick the Great

And now, a word from our sponsor:

Beer.

By Psychostick.

I like beer 'cos it is good
I drink beer because I should
if there is a song to sing
I sing it and beer you bring
I drink beer when I am sad
'cuz the beer it makes me glad
now there's nothing left to say
so lets go drink beer

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
... and Stuff

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
let's go drink some BEER

BEER

when its warm it taste's real crappy
but cold beer will make me happy
when I throw up on the floor
I can go and drink some more
they say beer will make me dumb
it are go good with pizza
now that we have drunk some beer
lets go drive a car

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
....and stuff

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
let's go drink some BEER

Beer

uh dude.. I think you've had enough
...No

lets go drink some beer.

One year later, and beer is still good.

Don't cry for me, Blogentina (soft G), but I have cut back significantly on beer. Since Jan. 1, I've been cutting back and cutting back. Partially it's so that I can have more time to work out (pants fit me again!) but also it has increased our budget more significantly than I would like, which means I was drinking A LOT of beer for the second half of 2007. Not all at once; but a guy does not need a beer at every meal.

Oh, who am I kidding? I miss beer. Am I sad or what?

Then I came upon my blog post from a year ago, and saw me in my spiffy new haircut, and I thought to myself, "That was a good day."

But I'm about to embark on a journey to Ra Cha Cha for the weekend, and I have a feeling beer is in my future. Sweet, glorious beer.

I have this, and you don't.

August, 2001. London, England.

An afternoon of British theatre yields itself to a particular thirst. Dry theatre, plus dry humor, well ... you get the idea. I was a cactus in a garden of stuffy, uppity hydrangeas.

I am alone in one the sections of Old London. Dickens could have peered from a corner to ask me for a ha'pence to call his mother. Then he'd say, "Oy, guv'nah, how do yeh use this telly phone?!"

The pub crawl commences. My feet point the way and my lips follow. Ales and porter flow everywhere. Then my buddy whiskey arrives, and he leads me through the old streets for many hours.

At almost the last pub, I meet a Frenchman named Bruno. We talk awhile of the neighborhood, of his country and mine. Somewhere during the conversation, he pulls an American $10 from his wallet.

"Do you know why I have this, Bryan?" he says.

"Uh ... no. No I don't."

"In my village in France, we have a saying. If you have an American bill in your wallet, some day the bill will become two. And those two will become four. And so on until one day, America makes you a rich man."

And I could have said a lot of things then. I could have told him (as I did a group of guys who offered me a lift one night) that in America we don't all carry guns, and we work just as hard to get the things we want in life. And some of us are better at life than others, and some of us still get left behind and forgotten. I could have told him the American dream is achieved by as much sweat and grease it takes to make it anywhere else, and our streets are not, and never have been, paved with gold.

Instead I took the Scottish five-pound note from the bar I was planning to use for my next drink.

"Bruno, you have your bill, and now I have mine," I said. "And one day, I'll make this bill become two."

Wife, cat.

Oh, and Paul Simon. Forgot to mention that.

So to recap, that's wife, cat, Paul Simon.

Add to that some Metroid Prime 3 and beer (Dogfish Head Indian Brown), and that's quite a night at the ol' Mahoney household.

Errands, Mahoney style

Pick up the kids, get groceries, maybe stop by Home Depot. I don't KNOW. I DON'T KNOW IF WE'LL HAVE ENOUGH TIME!!!!

Sure, that's what the errands might sound like in your house. But here at Mahoney Central, it's a very different story:

1. Apple Store for Word for Mac.

2. Lego store to drool over new line of Indiana Jones toys.

3. Barnes & Noble to pick out new books.

4. Berman's for some wine, Blithering Idiot, and Magic Hat #9.

5. Walgreens to pick up the photos.

That's how we roll.

Happy snooze year!

What did YOU do today?

Did you clear out your closets? Did you help a lady pick out garlic at the grocery store? Did you race a ghost through a bunch of chicken legs as Mario? Did you drink a beautifully smooth chocolate stout?

Aren't you jealous you didn't and I did?

And Glinda the Good Witch is a Barmaid!

Here's what it's like to visit the Sam Adams brewery, in which the brewery is Oz, the wizard is some guy named Jim, you are Dorothy, and the lion, tin man, toto, and the scarecrow are whatever boozers you bring with you. And for the purposes of this story, since she won't appear here anyway, let's say the Wicked Witch of the West is John Q. Lawman.

You get to the Emerald City after a long journey. Its doors are already open, and an ugly dude invites you in for free. There are some cool trophies and such that the Emerald City has won over the years by being the best gemstone-laden municipality there is. Some years it gets beat out by the Gold City and the Ruby City (which manufactures slippers), and occasionally even the Dull Quartz City has a good year. But the Emerald City is proud of what it is and what it's done, and wastes no time in telling you about it.

You're led into an anteroom where the fine people of the Emerald City tell you more stories and promise to take care of you and your friends, and even shine your tin man and bikini wax your lion. Then it's time for the Great Unveiling, and you're led (ok, more like pushed) into the Great Oz's chambers.

The Great Oz isn't there, but a recording of him is. Fair enough. But then you learn that magical waterfalls a la Charlie and the Chocolate Factory do not a magician make; instead his source of power comes from great steel and copper drums that are impressive when you think of how much beer they hold. Oops - got off the metaphor.

OK - so you're slightly disappointed but then Glinda the Good Witch tells you that it's all right - you're still going to Kansas. Sort of. The Wizard is instead going to ship you to Cheboygan, but will be happy to provide directions to Kansas from there. Which is fine and good, because you're still going to be closer to Kansas than you are now and at any rate, the voices from the tiny people in your head ... I mean the Yellow Brick Road ... will be quieted for awhile. Cheboygan's nice this time of year.

(The brewery was fun. They give you 7 oz. glasses for free! The guy that gives you your glass checked my ID. Apparently I own just one set of clothes because I was wearing the same outfit in my license photo. You can't buy beer there, which stinks, but they give you directions to the nearest liquor store and pub. Fine by me.)


I try me a Sam. We tasted Regular, White, and Summer ales. I'm a convert to the White.


One of the aforementioned copper kegs.


Though the original brewery is here in Boston, Sam Adams' main production facilities are in Ohio and (drumroll ...) ... Rochester, NY!! I can't escape.

The Beer Baron exists

But he does not hawk his hooch via filled bowling balls that travel through a complex systems of tunnels starting at the local Lucky Lanes.

He lives, ironically, near me. And I "hopped" at the chance of hearing a robust rumor he was just foaming at the mouth to belie:

One of the MacGregor's restaurants in Rochester is closed. Flat out skunked. And under strange and convoluted circumstances involving an estranged family member and a bad debt. The details are sketchy - the beer baron was of course trying to explain this to me in a beer store. I was ... Distracted.

Still. The job of beer baron actually exists! He calls himself a beer distributor but then he told me this wild story about how there's a guy near Syracuse trying to monopolize the beer distributorship for the entire state. That's a lotta keg stands if you get my draught.

But this guy continues to fight the good fight, to keep lesser-known west-coast microbrews on the lips of Rochesterians everywhere, and to spite his brother, who owns MacGregors. Oops - let that one slip. It's the beer talking - a toasted lager from the Blue Point Brewing Company in Long Island. They're a little different because they brew lagers and other breeds involving different yeasts. That's tough to do, especially for the little guys out there. But I'd put this up to any lager I've had - even most Belgian ales, which have a similar texture and finish.

Like I said - beer talking.