Underground Beer
I hope to expand on this theme in a print article in the near future, but Derek's most recent post has seduced me into at least mentioning the topic here. For his wedding, he's brewed up three batches of beer--two fruit ales and a saison. 
I have no idea if he's a good brewer, but the finished product is impressive. And whether he's a good brewer or not, there are many in this city who are. I've been to homes and been served beer that exceeds the quality of all but a few professional breweries. And in fact, I've even brewed a batch or two that met that quality myself.
The upshot: there's a whole lot of exceptional beer out there, and we'll never get to drink any of it. Fascinating to think, isn't it, that the best beer in the city--and this is Beervana, after all--may have a clientele of just a few people? I try not to think too hard about it, though. Best to leave that tantalizing prospect in the lost recesses of your brain, where your mind won't stumble across it too often.
(Incidentally, homebrewing the beer you serve at your wedding is the coolest. I did it back in '97, when I was not the greatest brewer in the world. Three batches: a brown, an IPA, and a wit, and no one complained. My favorite picture from the day shows my wife and I, smiling and finally relaxed, cavorting as we cut the cake. I was holding a bottle of homebrew.)
I have no idea if he's a good brewer, but the finished product is impressive. And whether he's a good brewer or not, there are many in this city who are. I've been to homes and been served beer that exceeds the quality of all but a few professional breweries. And in fact, I've even brewed a batch or two that met that quality myself.The upshot: there's a whole lot of exceptional beer out there, and we'll never get to drink any of it. Fascinating to think, isn't it, that the best beer in the city--and this is Beervana, after all--may have a clientele of just a few people? I try not to think too hard about it, though. Best to leave that tantalizing prospect in the lost recesses of your brain, where your mind won't stumble across it too often.
(Incidentally, homebrewing the beer you serve at your wedding is the coolest. I did it back in '97, when I was not the greatest brewer in the world. Three batches: a brown, an IPA, and a wit, and no one complained. My favorite picture from the day shows my wife and I, smiling and finally relaxed, cavorting as we cut the cake. I was holding a bottle of homebrew.)