I really have lived my life under the assumption had I could drive a Jeep to South America – our only friendly neighbour to the south.
I’m wrong – according to google. Look here!
Google maps tells me it’s not possible. And those google people are presumably smarter than me.
Tonight I’m drinking a lovely wine from Argentina, and I sadly am finding out that I can’t drive there to get more. Nevermind the fact that I may be 189 hrs of driving – an estimation I made, but honestly I’m so thrown off by google right now that I’m unquestionably questioning anything that i thought i knew.
I can’t even be certain that I purchased this lovely Trapiche Syrah at the LCBO for under $9 because that seems as crazy as a Spanish speaking border guard telling me i can’t get to Argentina from here [or an ‘merican speaking border guard for that matter].
My Linkedin bio recently changed from “self-amusing wine blogger” to “matchmaker”.
Specifically hooking up Toronto’s Muddy York Brewing Co. with Guelph’s finest gastro pub, Baker Street Station. It’s a classic tale … blogger turned matchmaker meets microbrewer Jeff, drinks stout … blogger sees gastropub guy Dave at the gym and says “you know what you should do, blah, blah” – next thing i know there’s something there that wasn’t there before [yes, that’s a Beauty and the Beast reference – ah romance].
And I think I done good. So good that the beer menu at Baker Street Stn looks like this now. Tasting notes are hardly necessary – it’s love.
Okay, maybe the board looks like this …
Would you believe that one of more of these photos was photoshopped by my mischievous daughter little m?
Guelph’s first keg from Toronto’s Muddy York. I got to touch it!
Muddy York Brewing Company’s Stork Derby Stout – Now on tap in Guelph thanks to my matchmaking skills. You’re welcome Guelph.
Jonathon’s historic pouring of the first pint of Muddy York’s Stork Derby Stout in Guelph
Checked my wine cellar this morning and all my wines are one year older! Awesome.
I’ve started something new in my expensive IKEA wine cellar. One cube is now dedicated to Sours and specialty brews. Even they are one year sourer. And as you will see, there is a local touch to this Belgian craft of making sours.
Sour beers are intentionally made to taste sour, often with the use of barrel aging where wild yeast strains enter into the brew, or by adding fruit to the beer to allow a secondary fermentation. I prefer the former style. Commonly made in Belgium and Germany, they are the most wine-like of all beers, often exhibiting tannins instead of hops. I’ve even had them served to me in a wine glass at a fancy beer place in TO. Royal City Brewing Co. has been bottling some of their own for me [maybe not just for me but it feels like it].
And now a brief tour of my collection – my delicious collection which has my my wine cellar more delicious.
The Rodenbach brothers, from Belgium, produce this delicious red sour. Thanks to my daughter M’s friend Matt for suggesting it, and to M for hunting it down in an LCBO in Toronto for me.
Cam and the boys and Royal City Brewing Co. right here in Guelph made this aged in Chardonnay barrels. A personal favourite – $6.95 at the brewery.
The Royal City Brewing Co.’s latest German-style sour.
All the way from Germany – Schneider Weiss Cuveé Barrique. Again, thanks Matt and M – you guys do good work.
I saw this on the Facebook the other day. It makes me think that Guelph is the city of brotherly love.
I love that one brewery in this city calls the other their big brother, and that the big brother helped the nano-brewery in their time of need. I celebrated with this.
Wellington Imperial Russian Stout – a harmonious combination of stout and Russian [served in a Muskoka brewery glass because i’m sure they would like to join the family].
Hey little brother-in-spain … need me to mill some grain for you?
Also, I forgot that it snowed on my blog in December. Awesome!
Summer is gone and gone with it is my taste for summer drinks. It’s an odd time of year. I’m not quite ready for big red wines or stout ale, and yet I don’t want a cider, pilsner, or crisp riesling anymore either.
This is what happened last week on the patio formerly known as OX.
My wife tried the cider, I had the Stonehammer harvest ale, and my daughter the Stonehammer dark ale.
It was a nice autumnal experience. A leaf or two dropped into our pints …
…a beautiful wasp stopped in for a visit …
And then the teenagers took over the “nature in a pint glass” game and made their big sister M’s drink a little over the top nature crazy. She drank it unfazed at her sisters’ tomfoolery. We do have fun. And round 2 … was the Stonehammer Dark. It became the official pint of the Oke family’s “patio and reading afternoon”.
I was enjoying a Wellington SPA on the patio at the Wooly with my good friend R. “There’s a fly, or wasp, in your pint” I commented. “That’s the least of my concerns” was his reply. And he proceeded to keep the not-so-little insect in his drink.
“What a good attitude”, i thought to myself. Why squabble over something as innocuous as an insect that just wants some slightly hoppy pale ale today. We can certainly coexist. This little bee is certainly not ruining my day in any respect – maybe we can just get along. R gets his pint and the wasp gets his fermented sugar.
A couple of days later i found myself in 20 degree weather sitting on the OX patio. There wasn’t much space but 4 women were very nice and allowed me to share their table. I assured them that i was there to read and have a pint and wouldn’t bother them. They allowed me to coexist in their space in that little oasis in downtown Guelph. That’s when this happened.
Yes, a black fly in my “chardonnay” [Alannis], or rather Royal City dry hopped IPA. My first instinct was to remove the little pest. Then i remember the kindness of others. My friend R allowing the wasp to stay, my new writer friends allowing me to sit with them in the sunshine. Monsieur la mouche [french] wasn’t really bothering anyone. Earlier in the week my daughter M and i had the “killing one fly doesn’t change the world for the better so why not let him live” conversation. So i let him coexist. If i’ve learned anything from M, R, and my new patio friends at OX, it’s that maybe we can all get along and that makes for a better world.
Maybe you find that a little uncomfortable to think about drinking a pint with a fly in it – but i decided to coexist and it felt good. Try it yourself sometime this week.
PS – i realize that it looks like i was writing about coexisting and friends and learning stuff from my daughter, but i did recommend two excellent patio beer that you might want to try. See what i did there?
Sometimes a man [which I’m] needs to do something noteworthy and daring – to bleed to know he’s alive. And since my bridge jumping days are over this is what i came up with.
I’ve done my part to get spring kickstarted by being the first person on two different patios in Guelph already. Some people are comparing it to Neil Armstrong’s giant leap for mankind – admittedly it’s not “some people”, it’s only me. Yet the servers at both establishments were suitably impressed. So this blog post is really a guide to being first in space [opening patios] after a ridiculously cold [i.e. nobody believes in global warming anymore] winter.
OX was the first up in early March. I picked OX because it’s sheltered from the wind and a bit of an oasis in downtown Guelph. My adventure opening the patio at the Wooly came later.
- Step 1 – bring a blanket, metal chairs are cold on the bum. Bring a friend so that you can both convince yourself this was a good idea when you get numb.
- Step 2- walk up to the bar and order a stout or brown ale, something that has roasted malts. An hoppy IPA will do if you can’t find a brown ale suitable to your tastes.
- Step 3 – walk through the bar, open the patio door like you know what you’re doing, and set up camp. Beer in the snow, blanket protecting your gluteals
- Step 4 – be a little smug
One small step for man …