Sometimes we suffer from an over-abundance of choice. As much as I hate that stupid A-B commercial --You know, the one where the loser stands in front of a huge cooler of beers, unable to decide which one to pick, until the helpful A-B shill convinces him to make a daring choice and pick the same insipid beer as the half the beer drinkers in America. Yeah, that one. -- I do occasionally have to pause for a moment when I'm trying to decide which beer to pluck from my cooler to accompany a relaxing evening spent with my lovely wife Elaine.
Often, it's a no-brainer. I'm in the mood for a nice, hoppy IPA or I've got a new beer that I'm eager to try. But on other nights, there's nothing "new" in the beer fridge and I'm in an ambivalent mood. That was the way I felt last night. And when you're not in the mood for a particular beer style, you can do a lot worse than opting for a good, robust porter. So I popped open a Flying Dog Brewery Gonzo Imperial Porter and poured it out into a 22 oz. goblet glass.
It's not a beer for the faint of heart. With 7.8% ABV, 22 degrees Plato, the impressive 85 IBUs from tons of Warrior, Northern Brewer, & Cascade hops just manages to balance the huge maltiness of it. This beer takes mouthfeel to a whole new level, while still maintaining an excellent balance. It has the kind of heartiness we're looking for up here on The Last Frontier.
My only complaint about Gonzo Imperial Porter is that I can only get it in "the Big City", AKA Anchorage, three hours away by road from Homeport (my place). That means careful rationing between trips, to make sure I don't run out.
Still, perhaps it's just as well. If I could buy it locally, I'd drink that much more of it. And who knows what sort of trouble that might lead to...
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