Beer Review #0003: Dogfish Head Palo Santo Marron

Brewer: Dogfish Head (Milton, DE)

Type: Brown Ale

ABV: 12.0% 

Four Pack: $10.99

Michael Buffer should announce this beer before you drink it. It packs that kind of punch - which isn't surprising given it's high ABV. I haven't quite found the line of demarcation between a strong beer that I can remain somewhat coherent while drinking, and the level at which I'm better off locking myself in the garage with my beer, iPod and a bucket.

I know it's below 12%.

My biggest issue with many high-content brews over time has usually been the distinct, pure-alcohol flavor or after taste. I don't mind a beer that's going to kick my ass a bit, as long as at the end of the day, it still tastes like a beer. Too many (especially the barlewyine styles) taste more like whiskey cut with cough medicine.

The first sip of DFH's Palo Santo definitely had that pure-alcohol bitterness, but to it's credit it subsided very quickly, and once your palate adjusts, it gets smoother and smoother. Picture yourself diving into a freezing pool on a 99 degree day. The initial sting can be brutal  but once you get acclimated, you're refreshed and energized.

As for how the beer actually tastes, it's nothing like other Brown Ales that you may have had. It's no Newcastle, it's no Brooklyn Brown, and it certainly ain't a Sierra Nevada Harvest. The most unique quality I found was, for lack of a better word, an oak-like faintness, much like you may find in a red wine.

Did I mention it was high in alcohol?

After about 3 of them, my wife was convinced it was mushroom tea in my pint glass. Enough said there.

My final report card (numbered stats on a scale of 1-10): 

Bang For The Buck: 6. It's expensive, no doubt. Hard time calling it a bargain. However, the experience is well worth it. Especially if you compare it to the street value of a hallucinogen.

Taste: 8. The bitterness fades as the flavors come out.

Drinkability: 7. Very smooth for a 12%'er but it's not the smoothest of drinks.

1 Makes You Feel: Like you drank a bottle of red wine. 

3 Make You Feel: That you shouldn't be engaging in any conversations. 

4 Make You Feel: There is no pain you are receding, A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.  You are only coming through in waves. Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

Ideal Musical Companion: The Wall.

Ideal Cheeseburger: Riiiiight, you're not eating

If this beer was an athlete, it'd be: Muhammad Ali. Dances like a butterfly, stings like a bee, and at the end of the night, nobody will understand a word you're saying.

Grateful (He's) Dead

Sure, the entire global economic and cultural security happens to be at stake in the Middle East at the moment, but that hasn't quite stopped the mainstream media from gushing over this weekend's "100th Birthday" of Ronald Wilson Reagan. When he passed away in the middle of the 2004 Presidential Election, no major media outlet passed up the opportunity to canonize St. Ronnie and thank him endlessly for fluffy insignificant accolades about "restoring America's Confidence" and "Tearing Down the Wall". Let's set aside the fact that both bestowals are not only grossly exaggerated but factually misguided. Despite horrific evidence around us to the contrary, the general reputation and perception of the man was whitewashed to nearly unfathomable degrees then - and with that evidence strengthened one-hundred-fold in the past 7 years - it's being done so once again. 

I don't have the time, patience or desire (at the moment) to craft the necessary thousand-page indictment of what Ronald Reagan did to the country, let alone the planet. Fortunately, the abridged version is just as compelling. To speak bluntly: Just about every crisis we've dealt with in the last 10 years is Reagan's chickens coming home to roost. 

From a fiscal point of view, the basic premise of Reaganomics was lower taxes and looser financial regulations. Theoretically government spending reduction was supposed to be a key pillar of the plan but the Military Industrial Complex begs to differ. You know what? It all sounds dandy and responsible in theory, but in sheer practicality, the rich have never been richer, and the rest of us haven't budged. Working class dollars don't go nearly as far as they used to, while the upper tax brackets - who've never paid as little in taxes as they do now - have never been so prosperous. 

This doesn't even take into account his firing the first salvo in the ongoing war against union workers that continues to this day. 

A return to pre-Reagan tax codes would do wonders to our budget deficit, but you'll never hear a teabagger say that. Hell no, they'd rather just make grandma eat 9 Lives. 

And how did that banking de-regulation work out? 

Socially, Ronald Reagan makes Rick Santorum look like Harvey Milk. His blatant disregard (or if you prefer, criminal negligence) for the gay community and inner city "welfare queens" as he called them allowed both the AIDS and crack-cocaine epidemics spread like bedbugs in a brothel. 1985 wasn't 1685. We had the capabilities and resources at our disposal to educate and combat these societal plagues, but ol' Ronny thought it was much more important to send his wife out there to lecture white kids on smoking pot instead.

Oh, yeah, the Cold War. While we were engaged in a global game of Monopoly with the "Evil Empire", the Soviets found themselves knee-deep in their own Vietnam, in a lovely little paradise known as Afghanistan. I think you heard of it. The Reagan Administration Policy? Arm Afghan militants to the teeth, educate them in guerrilla warfare, and then abandon them when all was said and done so they could continue living in the Stone Age with a massive power vacuum. That vacuum? Filled by the Taliban. Those guerrillas? The eventual Al Qaeda. One Republican's Guerrilla is another Republican's Terrorist I guess. 

But hey, would you expect any less from the men who sold Weapons of Mass Destruction to Saddam Hussein?

I'd also be remiss to point out that his Executive Order slashing foreign aid to third world countries that provide or push any form of birth control has not only increased the already horrific poverty they live in, but allowed diseases such as AIDS to completely ravage indigenous regions across the southern hemisphere.

So forgive me if I refuse to get caught up in the hoopla of the Gipper's Birthday, or conveniently sweep the overwhelming evidence of his fuckupedness under the rug. I know no President is perfect. FDR interred Japanese in concentration camps. Nixon was a crook. But we don't have internment camps anymore and Watergate was actually one of the better incidents in recent Presidential history, leading not only to Nixon's resignation, but tighter oversight of elected officials and campaign finance. (Well, it did until Reagan appointees like Antonin Scalia and Reagan staffers like John Roberts said "No".) To this day, we're still swimming with our heads barely above water in Reagan's cesspool. 

Gloss over these atrocities all you want in the name of decency and respect. But don't piss on my face and tell me it's raining. 

Top 25 Power Ballads: #5 - #1.

So arrives the end.  We've flown to the angels. We've lived in sin. We didn't forget you, and the children have cried. As The Flame burns out, I thank you for your Patience, because Without You, I wouldn't know What It Takes to find Something To Believe In. I hope this little list has entertained you with More Than Words, and that it got you just High Enough.

Before the Top 5 is revealed, allow me to raise a can of Aqua-Net to those bands who made multiple appearances on the list. Four of whom find themselves with one more song to go...

Bon Jovi: 3 Songs. There should be no surprise here.

Posion: 3 Songs. As mentioned, one of the most underrated bands ever.

Motley Crue: 2 Songs Heavy hitters with an uncanny ability to show their softer side

Warrant: 2 Songs. 3 Hit Wonders, but Cherry Pie didn't qualify.

Previous entries on this rundown....

#25 - #21

#20 - #16

#15 - #11

#10 - #6 

#5: HEAVEN, Warrant (1989) Holy 7th Grade Batman! Imagine raising a daughter, from birth to her wedding day. Imagine what that must feel like. Watching Jani Lane go from "Heaven" to "Celebrity Fit Club" is probably the 180 degree opposite.

#4: HOME SWEET HOME, Motley Crue (1985) The oldest track on the countdown, it's a pioneering tune. If the Crue can slow it down and break out the lighters, anybody can. I'll let you in on a little secret - this song started at #8 when I drew up my original list. I made a corresponding playlist on my iPod so I could re-familiarize myself with the pure emotion of some of these songs. After a couple of jacked up and highly caffeinated mornings, I had no choice but to have it leapfrog "Dead or Alive", "Patience" and "Fly High Michelle". And then this morning, I listened to the Top 5 on my way in and said "Shit, this is better than Heaven". Literally and Figuratively. If I wasn't so anxious to move on to the next Whiskey Tree music countdown, I'd wait a week and this might end up #1. It's that F*cking Good. And no, I don't know why sometimes I type Fuck and sometimes I type F*ck. And yes, if I've met you in person at least once, you're more than welcome to bring beer and listen to that playlist.

#3: I REMEMBER YOU, Skid Row(1989) Sebastian Bach was one hot chick back in 1990. This kicks off The Big Three. 3 Great songs about lost love to close it all out. Though I'm not quite sure why the scorned lover exactly had to be homeless in this video. Oh, that's right. Ronald Reagan made a lot of people homeless. And how about Rachel Nolan's nose-to-ear chain? Don't lie, you wanted one. I did. Also, I get the obvious symbolism, but just once can we get a love song where the romance takes place in January?

#2: EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORN, Poison(1988) Greatest Breakup Song, Ever. Has anybody ever captured the Human Condition better than Poison? In history? I often point to their line in "I Won't Forget You" - "Its better to have lost at love then to never have loved at all" as my ultimate piece of evidence on the matter, but we can't dismiss the gem within Thorn: "And now I hear you found somebody new, and that I never meant that much to you, To hear that tears me up inside, And to see you cuts me like a knife". The only post-breakup line that competes involves Alanis Morrisette blowing Uncle Joey in a movie theater.

#1: NEVER SAY GOODBYE, Bon Jovi(1986) If you're ever on "Jeopardy!" and the $2000 question in the "Ed's Life" Category is "Ed danced with his wife to this song at his 8th Grade Graduation Dinner, Senior Prom, and Wedding". This is your answer. Really, how can #1 be anything other than this. We'll even neglect the fact that my wife can't stand it.

Odd that an 8th Grade Graduation Dinner at a Catholic School would feature a song that glorifies skipping school to drink beer, and losing more than keys in a backseat. You'd have thought they'd at least try and change the lyric to "And you lost more than that in my Sacristy"

I worked the juniors on the Prom Committee in 1995 like a K-Street lobbyist to make sure that NSG got the top billing - and hence the inscription on the garter belt gifts - at the Prom. And I'd do it all over again. Ironically, at the "Prom That Night", we didn't have a fight. Might have been the only night in 1995 that was the case. We're a model in perseverance.

Come wedding time, there were enough memories in the bank to force this to not only be played, but inserted onto the CD we gave out as favors (That's 2 trinkets for those of you keeping score at home).

Lyric by lyric, this song should give you chills. Even if there's no such thing as a smokey room anymore. I won't lie. Some of these songs have gotten a bit, um, cheesier, as time's gone on. But the complete opposite's the case right here. As I get a little older and move deeper into my thirties, the whole concept of "Never Say Goodbye" resonates stronger and stronger with each turn of the calendar. Life ain't scripted and it usually won't play out the way you may have envisioned it 5, 10, 15, or 25 years earlier.

That's not necessarily a bad thing. What's important is that you shouldn't turn your back on the people, places and events that brought you to where you are today (Unless you're an addict, pretty sure those are exactly the things you're supposed to turn your back on). It's not healthy to live in the past, but it's just as detrimental to deny it. And with the wonders of technology and social networking, it's easier today than it's ever been to embrace. You aren't who you are today without those people who made you who you were yesterday. Let them know that some time.

Holding on, We gotta Try.

Timberland List Thursday: 2/3/10

The T-List is rip-roarin' and ready to go after a weather-induced absence last week that left me unable to think about anything other than snow. And wine.

#10. Ben Roethlisberger. This being Super Bowl weekend and all, it's a pretty good time to remind the public that you're a rapist.

#9. The Borgata Hotel, Atlantic City, NJ. They bill themselves as AC's only Vegas-style casino, and the Borgata is actually an impressive structure. Good casino. Good eats. Good hotel. Except for one liberty-depriving policy: A six pack limit on beer in the hotel room. I'm not making this up. Four of my friends arrived with a 12 pack and were told they could each bring one six pack, in a six pack container. Being the resourceful rock stars that we are, we were able to smuggle a couple of cases up in our luggage and all, but that's not the issue. The issue is not only this horribly puntative policy for folks just looking to have a good time, but the sheer stupidity of it from a business standpoint. If I drink 3 beers, I'm going to gamble conservatively at your tables. If I drink an unlimited quantity, I'mstill up playing your tables and slots at 7 in the morning

#8.  MTV. As if Jersey Shore isn't enough to make an upright human being cringe, now I have to hear about all this hoopla regarding some teenage soft-core porn called "Skins"? Whatever happened to "Dial MTV" or "Headbangers Ball" or "Yo! MTV Raps"? Or music videos in general for that matter. Also, I'm tired of otherwise educated people saying "I know it's horrible but I can't help enjoying it". You know who else says that? Meth Addicts.

#7. The NFL. No, this has nothing to do with the Labor Situation...yet. This entry on the List is solely for giving the Black Eyed Peas a platform this weekend.

#6. Democratic National Committee. Hosting the 2012 Convention in Charlotte? A Banking hub with non-union hotels and a Board of Ed that used the Martin Luther King Holiday as a make-up for lost snow days? Plus, you're not carrying North Carolina again. Under any circumstances. Time to stop rewarding ignorance.

#5. Pastor John Hagee. Brace yourself, as I'm about to defend Rand Paul. The Tea Party poster child announced his support for a measure that would dramatically slash foreign aid across the board. By roughly one third. Hagee, who had no problem with what that might mean for the starving children of sub-Saharan Africa, responded by saying "Cutting funding to Israel" does not align with Tea Party Principles. Excuse me, I must have missed that memo about taking from the American Poor and giving it to Benjamin Netanyahu. I thought you fucktards only wanted to redistribute the wealth to the American rich?

#4. Groundhog Day. ENOUGH. Stupid. Fucking. Holiday. For. Stupid. Fucking. People. Granted, unlike the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Jesus and the Tooth Fairy, the groundhog itself is physical and tangible. But the entire notion is about as dumb as dogshit.

#3. Hosni Mubarak. Closing Time. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

#2. Chris Christie. New Jersey's very own Jabba The Cut, who's spent the last year pissing on teachers, laborers, firefighters, police, the elderly, the poor and just about everyone else who didn't clear $250G in salary last year just gave a $261 Million hand-job to private Atlantic City developers. 

#1. The Winter. I surrender. 

Top 25 Power Ballads: #10 - #6

It's the stretch run, the Top 10. Put the women and children to sleep, we're bringing out the Big Guns this week.

Previous entries on this rundown....

#25 - #21

#20 - #16

#15 - #11

#10: SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, Poison (1990) Don't be fooled - behind all that lipstick, makeup and hairspray is a powerful progressive message. How we treat our homeless, our veterans, our poor and our lonely best friends of Bret Michaels. At the very least it answers the question "Is there a Lord Above?". Negatory.

#9: MORE THAN WORDS, Extreme (1991) The Last Great Power Ballad ever released. Not long after this it was time to don the flannels, cut the hair and get serious. It was nice of Nuno Bettencourt and Gary Cherone to give a cameo to the useless members of the band waiving their lighters in the video. Speaking of which, with the general decline of smoking in general, that's the most unfortunate side effect - no more swaying lighters demanding an encore, or for effect during a great power ballad such as this. Yes, I know there's an ap for that now. But it's not the same.

#8: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE, Bon Jovi (1986) As disturbing as it is, JBJ's Cowboy Fetish has produced some great music. You've got this classic. You've got "Ride Cowboy Ride", and you've got the entire Young Guns II Soundtrack. Sure, it's hard to shake the image of a 14 year old Jon prancing around his Sayerville bedroom in assless chaps and a Red Rider but at the expense of never hearing "sometimes you tell the day by the bottle that you drink"? Well worth the imagery. What I find a little pretentious however, is that when this song was written, Bon Jovi was hardly the global success that they are today. So really, the only way Jon saw "a million faces" when he wrote this was if he was collecting Turnpike Tolls that summer.

#7: FLY HIGH MICHELLE, Enuff Z'Nuff (1989) Told you I wasn't done honoring the lost art of hair bands memorializing overdosees in song. Drugs? Check. Lipstick? Check. Hair? Check. Girls? Yup. And really, can you go wrong writing about a Michelle? I can think of 3 Michelle classics off the top of my head. Enuff Z'Nuff never really took off and that's a shame, because this album and their 1990 follow up "Strength" were quality cuts. Maybe it's because they went for the "Poison on Acid" look.

#6: PATIENCE, Guns N'Roses (1989) This was hard for me to include in my countdown. I cringe to put GNR in the classification of "Hair Bands". The era lines up. The look kind of does, though there was very little glamor in their motif. But their track record and their sound is hardly comparable to Bon Jovi, Poison, or even the Crue. But Patience can loosely, very, very loosely, be categorized as a Power Ballad. And a great one at that. Is there a better vocal solo than Axl's wailing at the end of this? Is there a more iconic (and symbolic) sequence from a music video than Slash's snake? Do you not think about this tune every time you're partying in a hotel room?

It's a topic for another time, especially with the million different classifications one could pick, but I'm a firm believer that Guns N Roses was the Last Great Rock'n Roll Band.

See ya'll for the Top Five later this week.

In a Boy's Dream: The State of the Union

As I write this, I'm sure the President is hard at work, looking into a mirror and practicing thinking about the audience in their undergarments, trying to nail down his third State of the Union. I'm sure the speech will be everything the pundits and the people expect. There will be promises to work together, gentle scoldings about political discourse, the annual pledge to keep Social Security safe and the required "brave men and women in uniform" applause lines. There might be a surprise or two, but really, I fully expect this SOTU to look much like the last 2. Or the last 10, just a lot more intelligent. 

But I can dream, right? In a perfect world, wouldn't the State of the Union 2011 sound something like this?

Thank You. Thank You. Mr. Vice President, Speaker Boner, Members of Congress both old and -uggh-new, Supreme Corporate Justices, Feel-good-Barbara-Walters-story-in-the-making guests of the First Lady...the State of Our Union is Fucked. 

I was watching television Sunday Morning and the new House Majority Leader, Eric Cantor, while graciously  letting the public know that he "thinks" I'm a citizen, said it wasn't right to say those who think otherwise were "crazy". I believe Mr. Cantor said something along the lines of how it's simply not nice to call people crazy. While I'm sure that Manny Ramirez, Tom Cruise, and the folks who believe Jesus walked with dinosaurs appreciate the Majority leader's compassion, I had to ask myself, "Are you shitting me?" 

A little more than 2 years into my Presidency and you ignorant morons are still convinced I'm a Kenyan Born Muslim that spend the last 15 years of my life at the altar of a radical black separatist Christian reverend.

On top of all of that, you think I'm a Communist when my continual handouts to big business probably represent the biggest blow job in modern Presidential History. Yes Monica, even bigger than yours.

You people complain that I'm not tough enough on China when, after 8 years of your leadership, you fostered a financial environment conducive to China not only taking our jobs, but financing our mere existence, because as you know, wars don't pay for themselves. Neither do tax cuts. 

Speaking of wars, to our Brave Men and Women in Uniform (raucous applause), I'm sorry. Because I'm a Democrat, I have an uncontrollable urge to whip it out measure it. So I had to quadruple down on Afghanistan. 

Sure, I was nominated by the strongest grassroots effort in American electoral history by a bunch of educated people who believed that true national security comes in the form of energy independence and seeing to it that those in impoverished corners of the globe are fed, educated and working instead of working out sweetheart deals with their corrupt governments. 

While I agree with them in principle, the reality is too many powerful people in this country, along with an educationally-stunted-by-design majority of Americans just want to blow shit up. 

Since this is an official State of the Union Address, I'm required by the PATRIOT ACT to say the following phrase: September the Eleventh, Two Thousand One. We remember that horrible day like it was yesterday. For many of us, time has failed to heal those wounds. For those of you who answered the call that day, we care about your well-being. Just not as much as we do tax cuts for Bill Gates. 

We must never forget how we were savagely attacked by Saudi and Egyptian Nationals, and how we had no choice but to ensure that Iraq and Afghanistan got just what they deserved.

Almost a decade later, there's no end in sight to our misguided quest for revenge. Oh, and did I already mention these trillion-dollar adventures were funded by China? Even though a return to 2000's tax code would have both paid for these wars AND true health care reform?

Speaking of health care reform, much to the dismay of my party's base, I tried to listen to the opposition party and work together to find middle ground. While my proposal was not nearly as liberal as those of card-carrying Communists like Dwight Eisenhower and Richard Nixon, I thought basically copying and pasting the proposal of a moderate Socialist like Comrade Bob Dole would be a reasonable compromise. Boy was I wrong.

Never again will I underestimate the American People's desire to be a slave to an HMO. Never again will I argue against the fundamental Right To Deny Coverage Based On Pre-Existing Conditions. Upon further review of the Constitution, I now see what you're talking about: The government has absolutely no right to prevent a lunatic from owning a nuclear warhead, but how dare we say you must be insured.

While I'm in the habit of throwing in the towel, let's move to the environment. My opponent in the last election was an advocate of a cap and trade system. But that's a little too pinko radical for most of you. Especially those of you convinced that there is no climate crisis because Jesus loves the earth too much to let anything bad happen to it. So let's abandon those solar and windmill plants that not only create working class jobs, but also protect our environment AND have the added bonus of weening ourselves off of Al Qaeda's oil. Go back to buying Hummers. Class Dismissed. 

I'd like to think that this divergent opinion on how the nation should be governed was just the demented musings of an aging slice of the electorate, clinging to their outdated belief structure and unable to come to grips with the fact that their President is named Barack Hussein Obama. And maybe it is. But you know what? Those loony old white folks voted last November. The rest of you didn't.

So we turn the page to a new election cycle. Another 12 months of hearing how I'm a foreign national that worships at the altar of Marx and Lenin, while the fringe on the other side talks about Blood Libel. I could easily get the band back together, write up some pretty speeches and throw a brand new slogan about change or progress your way, but really, what's the point? Change isn't supposed to be easy, but you people want it to be. You don't have the stomach for this fight, I don't have the patience. So I will not be seeking re-election. Enjoy President Mama Grizzly. 

Thank You, Good night. And God will Bless America when America decides to stop acting like a petulant little bastard.

Beer Review #0002: Otter Creek Stovepipe Porter

OTTER CREEK STOVEPIPE PORTER

Brewer: Otter Creek Brewing (Middlebury, VT)

Type: Porter

ABV: 5.4% 

Six Pack: $7.49

I like to admit my bias upfront: I friggin LOVE Otter Creek. I've never had a bad beer from OC and just about everyone of them ranks near "Best in Class" in my mind. Which is another thing that separates me from the so-called connoisseurs, who generally don't give their work good marks.  

Having said that, the Stovepipe Porter is probably the OC brew I've drank the least. The connotations that come along with "Porter" often psyche me out: A thick, hearty concoction best drank on cold evenings to ensure a lovely warm slumber. I'm doing my best to fight off that prejudice though, because a porter is a wonderful elixir and I'm going to do my damnedest to work them into the rotation.

As noted, I'm not that big on color but for what it's worth, this poured pretty black and settled a tad bit lighter. Looked thick enough to be serious though. It's head wasn't too overbearing but just substantial enough. But again, I'm not in the business of admiring the color, I'm all about making sure the glass ends up transparent. 

 

First thing I noticed after sip numero uno was this was hoppier than I expected a Porter to be. Once again, a good thing. Me like a the Hop. Also had a bit of a chocolatey-caramel taste to it, but not so much that it was overbearing like I was drinking liquified Snickers. I dug it. 

As far as how it went down, a little bit easier than I anticipated. It was hearty enough but not to the point of "Crap, I'm full". And like many beers, each sip gulp went down easier and easier. The last sip of each glass seemed to be the sweetest. The aftertaste - a term that conjures up some pretty negative imagery - was actually quite enjoyable. Like a band of chocolate dwarves doing somersaults in my mouth.  As I moved on through the sixer, I became more and more relaxed, though not drowsy.

As noted, I'm hardly a Porter expert so I really don't have too many points of comparison, at least not recent ones, but I'll absolutely recommend this to anybody who may share my occasional reservations about Porters. It seems it's smack in the middle of the spectrum of Porters in terms of ABV, so it's neither too weak or too debilitating. And there's certainly nothing wrong with the taste. Once again, The Creek delivers.

My final report card (numbered stats on a scale of 1-10): 

Bang For The Buck: 5. Middle of the road, though about 50 cents cheaper than other porters.

Taste: 7. Erring on the side of caution, as I can't compare it to the Porter field. But I enjoyed it. 

Drinkability: 8. Which is probably a very high mark for it's class. 

1 Makes You Feel: Content

3 Make You Feel: Reflective

6 Make You Feel: Like putting your arm around a shorter man and telling him that he's the shit, and then listing all the reasons why. 

Ideal Musical Companion: Johnny Cash's American IV: The Man Comes Around. Lotta good introspective tracks, though you'll be more inclined to cry during Danny Boy.

Ideal Cheeseburger: Shared plate of Sliders, with a sharp cheese like cheddar or Swiss. The beer is somewhat filling, a 900 calorie monster burger might be enough to lull you to sleep.

If this beer was an athlete, it'd be: David Ortiz. You might be intimidated by the appearance, and if you get stupid, you'll end up in trouble. But don't be scared, it's actually quite easy to handle.