There is a place where the beer flows like wine. Where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano. It is true! I have seen it with my own eyes! No, it is not Aspen, CO. It’s a little Russian liquor around the block from where my dad lives, with walls completely covered with… you guessed it, beer!
Armed with a plastic basket and the eagerness of a kid turned loose in a candy store, I worked my way through the aisles, jaw dropped to the floor and eyes fixated on the smorgasbord of colored bottles of different shapes and colors, trying to figure out the optimal battle plan.
Belgium, Germany, Czech Republic, Russia, England… The globetrotterÂ in me had no boundaries, knew no borders, and my empty plastic basket paid the price for my curiosity and unquenchable thirst. Small and large, dark and pale, exotic and questionable(?), the bottles kept on piling and by the time I somehow arrived at the cashier, I realized I had forgotten to breath all along the way.
Once I got to my dad’s and properly recovered from the experience, we proceeded to create our beer fortress and prepare to immerse in what promised to be an amazing beer tasting adventure. Now, I’m no beer expert by any stretch of the imagination and usually gravitate to the Belgium/German and “hoppy” beers. Some of the bottles we bought were definitely outside my level of comfort and were purchased with the sole purpose of experimenting. If you’re looking for some expert advice and such, then head on down to BeerAdvocate as those guys seem to know about the topic. Me? Nah… I just enjoy a cold one every now and then. :)
My dad and I are slowly working our way through our loot but we decided to take the “after” picture ahead of time, just in case we’re… incapacitated after our beer tasting experiment.