Bourbon County Stout and the InBev bashers

I made it downtown with 15 minutes to spare and got my golden ticket. Number 160.

I was at the Summerhill LCBO, the crown corporation's flagship store, for the release of a special beer - Goose Island Bourbon County Imperial Stout - and the lineup wasn't terribly long. There was the usual assortment of man-buns and other hipster accoutrements, but most of the beer lovers on hand seemed pretty normal - not that there's anything wrong with man-buns - with the demographics skewing towards the twenty-something crowd.

Not that there's anything wrong with that either.

Some of the people in line had been there for several hours but I didn't care that much. To each his or her own. With 200-plus bottles available my ticket number assured me of one of them - it's the 2014 version further aged in whiskey barrels with vanilla beans added, if you're wondering - and that was my only concern.

That and getting my hands on one of the delicious looking donuts I saw through the window being handed out with the bottles. It was a carb day after all.

Bourbon County Imperial Stout
 (Vanilla Rye) from Goose Island

Thirty minutes after my arrival I was in and pre-paying for the bottle while trying not to flinch at the $34.70 price. (I had no idea until then how much this was going to cost me: Ouch.) Then I had to run the gauntlet of Goose and LCBO officials handing out bottles like they were Santa Claus and his elves at a kids' Christmas party.

I picked up a bottle of Rochefort Trappiste 10 while I was there - the 11th ranked beer in the world (according to Rate Beer) that was a bit more affordable at $4 and change for 355 ml of Belgian goodness - and headed home; satisfied that the morning was well spent.

Turns out not all beer lovers approved of my little adventure, however. I saw a few posters on Facebook that could barely contain their excitement at the thought of drinking this 13.6 per cent brew, but other threads were less than complimentary.

Why, you ask? Despite the fact Bourbon County is the twenty-second highest ranked beer in the world (Rate Beer) and the release is extremely limited, the ownership of its brewers has put Goose Island squarely on the shit list in the eyes of a certain segment of the craft beer community.

Goose Island, as most of you know, was bought by InBev in 2011.

Stephen Beaumont, a Canadian who is one of the world's foremost beer writers, poked some fun at the hype surrounding the beer, asking his followers what the "opposite" of Bourbon County was. "I think I'll drink that today," he said.

Stephen did not dump on the beer, admitting he hadn't tried it but that he was not a fan of the hype surrounding it. Which is fine, because he was right. Bourbon County Vanilla Rye is over-hyped and certainly over-priced. But his pals quickly raised the bar on the vitriol. We had Ben the angry beer blogger ("I'm buying $35 worth of 'other beer' today at whatever fucking time I want"); and Chris the hipster slagging other hipsters for being hipsters ("Let the dolts stand in line for their over-priced fancy Budweiser").

I don't think I need to get into a long debate on the ethics of buying beer from craft breweries that have been snapped up by the macros lately because, frankly, I believe it should always be about the beer, not the conglomerate who owns it.

So here's a thought: how about you folks buy whatever beer you fucking want and leave the rest of us to do the same.

I haven't tried the beer yet - I'm hoping to do a bottle share with my friend Sarah (AKA My IPA Girl), who is soaking up the sun on a Cambodian beach (or some other exotic locale) as we speak and does plan to eventually return and, even more importantly, has a cellar full of world class beers - and I'll let you know if it was worth all the fuss.

By the way, the Rochefort Trappiste 10 was amazing.

The Broch and Punk IPA


I was in the Pickering LCBO - the best store we have out here in the wilds east of Toronto - and not having much luck when I ran into their beer guy.

"I'm looking for something different," says I, already starting to head for the door with my seen it-drank it-may actually own the t-shirt beer purchase. "A new IPA would be perfect. Got any of those?"

Turned out he did, and this shining star of the Ontario Government workforce pointed to a row of tall boys on the back wall. "We have Punk IPA. You want a case? I have plenty in the back."

Punk IPA. From Brewdog. A beer I have been chasing since I first heard of it six months before. Um...yeah, I want that.

Punk IPA. And that's the wedding picture of my grandparents
 Fred Hendry (Fraserburgh) and Jean Gatt (Pennan)

Punk IPA is found in many LCBO outlets now, but this was the first time for me. And truth be told, it was a little underwhelming when I drank it about two minutes after I got home. It was good, with tropical fruit and light citrus, and I have enjoyed it numerous times since that first one, But it was a little British IPA-ish, actually.

Which shouldn't be too surprising as it is British. Scottish actually. And that was a big part of the attraction for me.

I first heard of Punk IPA on a "30 IPAs to drink before you die" list, which intrigued me. Then I read about the frequent collaboration between Brewdog founders James Watt and Martin Dickie and Stone Brewing, the California brewery that can do no wrong. That certainly piqued my interest as well.

But the kicker for me was that Brew Dog was founded in 2007 in the Broch, the Aberdeenshire town better known as Fraserburgh and better known to me as the place where my father grew up.

Punk IPA retails in the LCBO for $3.40 a can but an IPA from my father's hometown?

Priceless.