Don't Worry, Beer Happy

I have a fantastic neighbor named Finn who lives 2 floors above me.  About a month and a half ago, we had our annual apartment HOA meeting.  The meeting was held at a fairly swank hotel just a short walk from our apartment complex.  In the hotel, is of course, the hotel bar.  After the meeting, Finn invited me to a IPA beer.  IPA?  I had no idea to what that was but no way was I going to say no to a free beer.  All the residents left and walked home after the meeting but Finn and I stayed on.  2 IPA's, please!  We drank one and then we were ready to taste the other IPA blend they had.  We just could not believe that the bar had closed and didn't want to take our money just to pull on a handle.  So we left and walked home.  The closer we got to our apartment complex, the faster we walked.  The toilet kept calling us to hurry.

Some time thereafter, Finn invited me up to his place to taste another Imperial Pale Ale that he had in his fridge.  I went upstairs and Finn and his wife Liss invited me out to sit on their terrace over looking the beautiful Copenhagen Harbor from the 6th floor (7th. in USA).  It was a beautiful evening; warm, no wind and with sunlight still in the sky, well after 10:30 at night.

While we were sitting there on the lounges, sipping on pale ale and popping snacks into our mouths, Finn tells me that there's a beer tasting afternoon going on at Amager Brewery and wanted to know if I would like to join him.  I said sure.

Amager is the name of the island we live on.  Pronounce it like: ah-mah or aw-maw. So we went.  

I had a bicycle accident just the Wednesday before and ended up in ER and with crutches.  I told Finn that I probably could still go as long as we didn't have to walk far from the car to the building and if I could sit down.  I wasn't going to stand around all day on crutches.  He said his wife will drive us in good time and we'll be able to get a table we can sit at.  It was just a 20 minute drive (not far from the airport where I used to work).  Liss pulls up to the blocked driveway, I waddled out of the car and hobbled into the brewery.  We were one of the first to arrive so we could pick any bench/table we wanted.  I chose the one closest to the entrance.  

Of course, me on crutches, meant that Finn would have to do all the dirty work: stand in line to get my beer and my lunch.  It was a great afternoon with lots of fun and amusement from the printing on the cans and bottles.  Everybody was happy and in good "spirits".   It's a very different type of packaging and marketing and really worth the time to check out their website via this link.  They don't just make one beer.  They make about 20 different verities a year.  So if you find one you really like, you gotta stock up on it because when they run out, that's it.

The above photo shows some of the beer that was marked down to half price.  By the time we completed our 3rd beer, a woman came around and crossed out 2 of the options - sold out.  Finn bought the Saloniki Werewolf.

The line to get a taste.

The following pix are of 4 of the 8 beers that we tasted.

Q: Which one did I like best?

A: Yes!                                   

As I said earlier, Finn had to play nurse and bring me my medicine.  

Here he is at the back of the line.

Eventually it was his turn.

And here he is being careful not to spill a precious drop.

Later on, I was getting hungry.  I ate breakfast at 7:30. And for me, beer needs food.  Finn was so kind to grab a hot dog for me.  It was a job to do too because there were about 16 different toppings you could decorate the hot dog with.  To make it easy, I told Finn to just slap some gunk on it.  This was the hot dog stand and the dogs were de-lish.

Here are a few beer labels.

It says: When the Danish king invited Dutchmen to settle at Amager (remember: ah-mah) back in 1521, he also granted them religious freedom , which may not have been an entirely good idea.  You see, back in the day The Netherlands were heavily influenced by France, and some of the settlers brought weird French ideas into their religious practices.  One such thing was Maman Brigitte.  Nobody really knows how she made her way into European religion, but maybe freed slaves brought her home from the French colonies in the Caribbean.  This horrid looking mother figure was supposedly a protector of cemeteries, so to some degree it made sense when suddenly one day a figure of her appeared at the local Store Magleby Kirkegår (the name of a cemetery at the southern end of Amager and where the Dutch settled).  The original Danish Amager people were scared shitless, as they had never seen anything this frightening.  So, one night a vigilante party of local Amarikans (people who live in the US are Americans and the people who live on the island of Amager are Amarkans.  Say Ah-mah-kAn-er) anyway.... a vigilante party of local Amarikans snuck into the cemetery and soaked this ghastly witch, as they called her, in diesel before putting her ablaze.  Naturally this caused some tension with those in the Dutch settler party who worshipped her.  But matters were resolved and the Dutch minority of Maman Brigitte worshippers agreed to keep her out of the cemetery for all eternity.  But to this day you will see scarecrows on Amager fields with an uncanny resemblance to - yes, you guessed it. Maman Brigitte.  

 

It says: Dario Daddano's path to fame and fortune had not always been an easy one.  To rise to be the undisputed head of the Chicago Outfit required a great deal of tactical skill and smooth talk.  And when that was not enough Dario was known and feared for letting his Thompson Annihilator do the talking - 900 round a minute.  His temper was known to be as dark as his Calabrian complexion. However, very few people knew that prohibition had ignited an interest in Dario.  An interest only his wife Marianna and a handful of his closest family members knew of: Dario had started home brewing.  In the club with the boys he would be drinking Canadian moonshine, but he missed his beer terribly. Also, he was growing tired of the mobster life with its constant quarrels.  So, when a Ukrainian friend from an associated gang told him about a style of beer that he used to drink back in his cold and miserable county, Dario was instantly curious.  A beer designed to be rich and warming for those bone chilling Kharkiv winter nights. So, in the kitchen of Dario's South Side Mansion, this unlikely duo happened to create what was probably the first Ukrainian Imperial Stout ever brewed in Chicago.  A beer so rich, powerful and delicious that it simply could not be kept a secret for long.  Quickly thereafter Dario retired as Don, only happy to pass on responsibilities.  Instead he opened Daddano & Dadolnikov Brewing Company with his Ukrainian friend thus effectively being one of the true pioneers of American craft brewing.

Here is the one that Finn bought.  He bought a whole case of it. 

On the back it says: The rumors hd been going for centuries: something evil was roaming the narrow streets of Saloniki - with most reports coming from the western suburbs of Menemeni and Dendropatamos.  And although sightings were few and confused, they all centered around a furry beast with seemingly sharp teeth and eyes that glowed as bright as a lighthouse lantern.  And with every sighting the people of Saloniki knew that at least one horribly shredded and torn body would be found under the glaring moonlight.  Because the moon was always full when these horrors happened.  The Saloniki Werewolf - as this evil soon became know as - seemingly always managed to escape all of the vigilante gangs that formed to chase the furry beast over the years.  One time the locals even managed to chase it into the White Tower near the harbor.  The agitated citizens were certain they had the werewolf trapped, but soon realized that the beast had escaped through the myriad of ancient underground tunnels.  Then there were no sightings and no bodies for almost two centuries.  

Peace had been restored. But recently rumors have started growing that once again something is loose in the streets.  Something evil.  But in this day and age it's difficult to remain anonymous - even for a werewolf.  On social media some bloggers now claim to have identified the beast as a local publican.  But we must stress that these are just rumors...

Each new blend has a story.  And if there are roughly 20 new verities a year, that's a lot of story telling. Somebody there on the staff has a great mind.  Probably as time goes on, more and more drinking is required to come up with these crazy, fascinating, fun stories. 

After all of this beer sharing between Finn and I, I decided to try to remember to pick up one of my favorite American beers when I go home to visit my family so that I can bring it back to Finn.  Then just yesterday at the market, while picking up dinner, I couldn't believe I found this on the market shelf.  Take a peek and see what is now waiting in my fridge for when I see Finn again:

Let the good times spin and pour me another!