The World According to Smashbomb Atomic 

The real truths of the universe can be found in only a select few places.

You won’t find them on the covers of the National Enquirer or on reality TV and you won’t find them in a box of Crackerjacks. (Those are called prizes.)

True wisdom can and should be discovered through hard work, intense study and self-sacrifice. But if you don’t have time to find your inner peace that way, there are two other options: fortune cookies and beer.

Fortune cookies are the traditional path to enlightenment and the words on those tiny slips of paper found inside semi-edible biscuits that no one actually eats are usually profound and always filled with truthy bits,  like “Conquer your fears or they will conquer you” and “You only need to look to your own reflection for inspiration. Because you are beautiful.”

Awwww…

There are also useful nuggets such as “Good news from afar may bring you a welcome visitor” and my personal favourite, “If you are afraid to shake the dice, you will never throw a six.”

You can’t do Vegas without intimate knowledge of that pearl of wisdom.

Beer is also a place where truth springs eternal, but I don’t mean the wisdom found at the bottom of the bottle(s). That kind of wisdom – “You stole my beer, you sonuvabitch” or, even more hazardous, “I love you” – is dangerous and the kinds of truth best left inside the bottle(s).

No, I mean the wisdom found under the bottle caps of Smashbomb Atomic IPAs.

There, you can find truths that act as both challenges to doubters and affirmations of one’s love of beer, such as “You can have my beer when you pry it from my cold, dead hands,” as well as messages promoting the power of perseverance: “Pry and pry again.”

Sometimes, Smashbomb asks important questions (because you can never know too much stuff) like “Okay, what’s the speed of the dark?” while other Smashbomb messages offer lessons in economics: “Living on Earth is expensive, but it includes a free trip around the Sun.”

Sometimes the messages are really well-meaning snippets of constructive criticism, such as “Your sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others,” “Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver,” and “Who died and made you Darth Vader?”

Smashbomb truths can refer to pop culture, such as “Vote for Pedro” and “Plastics,” and they can also be religious in nature: “Jesus loves you but I’m his favourite.”  They can be thought provoking: “He who laughs last thinks slowest, or drinks the most beer;” and “Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.” Sometimes they can be uplifting messages you share with your friends or co-workers: “Congratulations! You’re not illiterate.”

The wisdom found under Smashbomb bottle caps can also be used in everyday life: “Be nice or leave. Gossip accordingly,” and “Keep the change.”

They can also be downright inspirational, both for the reader (that would be you): “Carpe Beerum … Seize the Beer;” and, because what’s inside the bottle may need a little encouragement from time to time, for the Smashbomb Atomic itself: “Go beer.”

Wise words. From a very wise beer.

Props to the Prez (and the PM too)

I was all set to give props to the Prez for furthering the cause of craft beer’s international reputation, not to mention further cementing our wonderful relationship with the US of A by not welching on a bet.

And under this pre-story scenario our own fearless leader was going to be painted with the brush of lame for taking the safe choice for his end of the bargain.

It turned out to be not exactly like that, but I was never one for letting the facts get in the way a good story, especially if it’s about beer, gambling, international relations, women and the great game of hockey.

This is about the Great Hockey Bet, of course, the one placed during each Olympics whenever the U.S. and Canada play a meaningful game. And each time President Barrack Obama and Prime Minister Stephen Harper place a small wager on the outcome.

Winner gets beer.

In Vancouver it was the gold medal double when both the men and women teams from the two hockey powers faced off in the Olympic finals. We won both games four years ago, and two cases of beer were the spoils.

Last month the nations collided again. For the women, it was the gold medal game and it was a game for the ages – if you’re Canadian – with Canada scoring twice in the final four minutes to tie the match and then winning it in overtime over the slightly favoured U.S. ladies . The men, meanwhile, met in the semi-final, with Canada also winning that game – with more beer on the line – before defeating Sweden to capture gold.

Obama declared his beer choice early, declaring that should the American lose he would pony up White House-brewed beer. To be precise, a case of White House Honey Blonde Ale and a case of Honey Porter, both made from honey from the First Lady’s own hives.

That’s a powerful endorsement of craft beer, I’d say.

The first time the media reported the bet I read only that Harper was putting up Canadian beer, so I assumed Molson Canadian beer.

Now I drank my share of Canadian in my day and I love the beer fridge ads getting major play during the Sochi Olympics, but choosing a commercial beer, especially one synonymous with the “I Am Canadian” theme, is both cliché and really lame.

Turns out I didn’t know what I was talking about. Either that or the PM was thinking Molson Canadian all along until an advisor whispered something in his ear about scoring a few political points by spreading the love around. Or I’m just being cynical.

Beau's Lug Tread - A 'lagered' ale

In any case, Prime Minister Harper announced on March 12 – a couple of days after President Obama delivered on his end of the bargain with the White House brew – that, should Canada have been defeated in the game, he would have delivered one case of beer from Beau’s All Natural Brewing, and one case of suds from Big Rock Brewery.

Big Rock is a Calgary brewery noted for its Traditional Ale (Harper represents a Calgary riding in the House), while Beau’s – home of Lug Tread Lagered Ale and The Tom Green Beer, is strategically located between Ottawa and Montreal.

The timing of our fearless leader’s announcement may be suspect (I know, I'm being cynical again) but the end result is another big boost for the craft beer sector.

I have to be careful not to give Obama too much credit for this anyway. The jury is still out on the White House beer (which you can brew at home, thanks to a recipe made public after a Freedom of Information Act request, no less) and his choice four years ago was 24 Molson Canadian and a case of his favourite beer, Yuengling, a lager which scored just 27 on Rate Beer.

(One reviewer described the taste as “metallic, corn, weak malts, sugared beets, bland lettuce and dry hay.” Ouch.)

On the other hand, Obama is quite possibly the first sitting President to brew his own beer AND he showed really good comedic timing (and some major cajones) when he went up against Zach Galifinekos on the funny man’s Between Two Ferns talk show. Really funny stuff.

What the hell. Props to both of them for shining a powerful and very political light on the craft beer industry.

Ales to the Chiefs!

*

Speaking of international beer relations, I ended up defending our honour (sort of) today at an Ajax LCBO. The fellow in front of me – a hipster sort – had a couple of cans of Guinness and I remarked that it was kind of obligatory to buy the world’s most popular stout on St. Patrick’s Day. He said yes, but that it was too bad we didn’t make any good stouts.

Well. I’m no fan of stout, but we make some world-class varieties in this great nation and I told him so. I pointed in the direction of the beer cooler in the back and told him exactly where he could find some, too.

He mumbled something so I smiled and let it pass.

I pointed at the six Smashbomb Atomics in front of me and told him I needed to stock up on my IPAs today; St. Patrick’s Day or not. He told me it was too bad we didn’t make any good IPAs in the country. “Not like the U.S.,” he added.

Well. I gritted my teeth and said we make plenty of fantastic IPAs here and pointed again at my Smashbombs. “Flying Monkeys,” I added, pointing again at my six-pack, “is an awesome brewery and Smashbomb is one of the best IPAs out there.”

“Sure,” he grudgingly conceded, “but their IIPA is better.”

“You mean Shoulders of Giants,” I asked, referring to the Imperial IPA released last month at a party I was supposed to attend. “Were you at the release party?”

“Uh, no,” he stammered, looking confused.

I smiled again and told him to have a good day.

Hipsters.

*

Just a trio of new beers to talk about this time, starting with a couple of beers the lovely  Cat and I enjoyed Saturday when we did a bottle run down to Bellwoods Brewery in the Trinity-Bellwoods neighborhood in Toronto.

After buying a couple of bottles of their wonderful Witchshark – still number one on my IIPA list – as well as singles of the Catherine Wheel Belgian IPA and a new (to me) IPA called Cat Lady (yes, Cat bought some too), we discovered the brew pub wouldn’t be open for an hour.

Damn. My bad.

So we headed back north and ended up at Against the Grain Urban Tavern in Leaside, not a block away from Amsterdam Brewery and ten minutes from Cat’s apartment. “How is it you haven’t been here before,” I asked her. “I don’t know,” was her only response.

Anyway, it was a craft beer pub and we had a flight of four six-ouncers, one of which was Johnny Simcoe APA from Great Lakes. I have to say I was a little apprehensive because it poured yellow and I had my heart broken by a yellow IPA only last week.

I needn’t have worried. It was excellent. There was a rich, creamy head and it was quite hoppy. Lemony, even. At five per cent it instantly became one of my favourite session beers and probably takes top honours for beer under 5.5 per cent. Very good.

At home that evening I tried the Cat Lady. Light in colour but not in strength at 7.2 per cent, there was the usual grapefruit plus hints of pine and an earthy taste. Very little head. A very nice beer.

And, because it is St. Patrick’s Day, I had to go Irish at least once today. Smithwicks got the call and it didn’t disappoint. It’s a red ale and poured a coppery-red with a nice balance of malts and some sort of fruit I can’t identify. At 4.5 per cent it’s another fine session beer.

I'll leave you with a message from Great Lakes Brewery about the practice of drinking green beer on this special day:

 "If you insist on adding green dye/colouring to your beer this St. Patrick's Day, please don't use #GLB beer! Better yet, just don't do it!"

Amen.

Craft Beer and ComiCon - the perfect match

(Especially if you actually went inside)

The idea seemed simple enough.

I was going to Toronto ComiCon anyway, and I write a beer blog. Surely there was a connection between pop culture and craft beer?

Turns out there is. Or ‘are,’ because there are plenty of connections, as you could say craft beer lovers are the geeks of the beer swilling world. But the connection I found was in a small brewery out of Chicago called Arcade, which has produced Six Pack Stories, which is essentially a comic on beer. An original story written across six beers, in fact, with some big names in the comic industry involved.

And the artwork on the first Six Pack Stories was created by Tony Moore of Walking Dead fame, who just happened to be appearing at Toronto ComiCon.

Bingo.

So with my media credentials in order, I put the word out to my pals that we’re going to ComiCon. Don has way more comics than I (my taste in comics, like my taste in beer, is more narrowly – read IPA – focused) so he was an easy sell. Cat, who had a less than pleasant experience at her last ComiCon appearance (it wasn’t ComiCon’s fault, she says) was a bit tougher to win over.

“But we’re going to C’est What, that great craft beer pub on Front Street, after the show,” I tell her. “Why didn’t you say so,” she shoots back, adding that she had been to C’est What before. “I’m in.”

(I’m discovering that there are very few bars she hasn’t visited before, but that’s fodder for another blog.)

So on the day of the show I park my car at Cat’s north Toronto apartment complex and we head down to the Metro Toronto Convention Centre to meet up with Don, who was coming in from Burlington.

After a stop at Amsterdam Brewery for ‘gifts,’ Cat says.

And just around our pre-arranged meeting time we get a text from my clearly agitated college chum, who is, we learn, just a few hundred metres away.

“Help! I’m stuck in a stairwell and I can’t get out.”

Turns out his colour blindness (it’s a red/green thing) and some natural-born deficiencies were conspiring to make it difficult to pay for his parking and get the hell out of the underground parking lot.

A passing family took pity on the man and he eventually appeared at the convention centre, obviously in need of a drink.

“I brought that bottle of City and Colour Imperial Wheat. That should help,” I offer, concern in my voice.

Imperial Maple Wheat. That is all

So we walked out the front door and plunked ourselves down on some park benches, brought out a lighter to open the bottle and some plastic glasses Cat had liberated from Amsterdam Brewery on the way down and enjoyed a drink or two of this tasty, 11.5 per cent sugar bomb from Flying Monkeys. Just like some fancy pants downtown hobos.

Suitably refreshed, we went back inside to get tickets to the show. Cat and Don, anyway,  as I was already ready to roll with my media pass. And seeing the lineup to get tickets was long, I selflessly offered to get my stuff done inside while they waited.

So I did. I did the once-around in about 25 minutes, picking up a stack of Daredevil comics I was missing, finding Mike Del Mundo (a Marvel cover artist who hails from Toronto) and buying a print of his from an X-Men cover that features cameo appearances from none other than Rob Ford and the IKEA monkey, and taking a few pics of the cosplayers and assorted colourful characters that make ComiCon so much fun.

And I found Tony Moore as well, where I was able to use my many years of journalism experience to ask tough questions like:

“Do you drink beer?”

“Uh, yes. Yes I do,” stammered the artist, who hails from Chicago and, after some prodding, cited a bourbon-barrel blonde from Alltech Breweries in Lexington, Kentucky as a personal favourite.

At this point my reporter’s notebook is out, which piqued the interest of his booth mate, who appeared to be either his manager or his wife. Or both.

“No interviews,” she said, rather sharply. “I cleared this with media,” I answered back, not quite truthfully. (I had mentioned my interest in Moore in my email communications with the show’s public relations department but never did get an answer back.)

She was less than impressed, but I plugged on for a bit anyway and did learn that his art work on the Six Pack Stories comic book/beer project was a “favour for a friend” who is one of Arcade Brewery’s co-owners.

That earned us both the evil eye from his seat mate, so I wisely thanked him for his time and moved on.

I’m now done with my required duties and I figure I should be seeing Cat and Don in the crowd soon. Cat is tall and Don is wearing his drinking hat, so how hard could it be?

But after another walkabout and no sign of them, I return to the lineup area and find the line moving fine but no Cat and Don. They must be inside and I missed them, I figure, wishing the bowels of the Convention Centre weren’t a dead zone for cell phone signals so I could call them.

Twenty-five minutes and another two fast circuits of the show reveal no tall women (save for a sexy Super Girl or two) and no drinking hats of any kind. So I travel up the escalator to see if I can get a signal.

“Glenn.” shouts Cat when I reach street level and finally contact them. “Where are you?”

“Looking for you guys at the show, where you’re supposed to be,” I answer. “Where are you?”

“Across the street at Steam Whistle drinking beer. I thought you would figure that out.”

“You ditched me,” I replied, before I realized I had, oddly, lost cell service again.

What do I do? I go across the street to Steam Whistle and drink beer with my friends who had deserted me, of course. (I’m met at entrance by a couple of dudes, by the way, who take one look at me and tell me that “if I’m looking for Don and Cat, they’re at the back.” Nice.)

After we have a drink at the brewery and they beg for forgiveness, we head over to C’est What, a hipster hangout on Front Street (conveniently located near Cat’s car) that serves some great food and plenty of craft beer. All of their beer offerings are craft beer, in fact, and if you don’t believe me you can take a look at the beer menu that is now on display on my wall.

(I didn’t mean to do it, C’est What people. Blame Don.)

We ate well, drank some awesome beers (more on those in the review section at the end of this blog) and spent some quality time with friends. That and a ton of colourful pop culture characters made for an interesting and pleasurable day.

I’ll even overlook the fact that my friends abandoned their pal to drink beer without me. Maybe.

*

And now…some new beers. At C’est What I had a wee dram – okay, a pint – of Hopping Mad, a six per cent IPA from Toronto’s Granite Brewery. It was okay, but nothing to write home about. Smooth, but not nearly hoppy enough for me.

The second round was much better. I had the Moralite, from Quebec’s famed Dieu du Ciel Brewery, and it was exceptional. Very nice. Silky smooth and quite aromatic. A very good beer.

The Alchemist (Vermont) and Dieu du Ciel (Quebec).
A delicious partnership

But before we got to the craft beer pub – my first bar ever that served nothing but craft beer – there was my short visit to the Steam Whistle brewpub and their famed pilsner. I’ve had this beer before but it was a long time ago, so I was really tasting it again for the first time. Speaking as an IPA lover, this was a damn fine beer. Clean and crisp, it tasted like a pilsner should. Which is good, because this is the only beer Steam Whistle makes.

That night I got around to trying Narcissism of Minor Differences IPA from 5 Paddles Brewery in Whitby. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. Underwhelming would also be an understatement. It just flat out wasn’t very good. I know the boys were looking for balance for this beer, but I think they forgot the hops because I sure couldn’t find any. Sorry 5 Paddles dudes.

I’ll finish with something from Flying Monkeys of Barrie, one of Ontario’s coolest breweries: the City and Colour Imperial Wheat, which, as previously mentioned, we drank out of plastic cups in the park in front of the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. Which is also across the street (and in full view) of Steam Whistle Brewery, so I suspect that’s where Cat and Don got the idea to ditch me. But I digress. The Imperial Wheat, a marketing collaboration with musician Dallas Green and his City and Colour band, is a thick, maple-syrupy (with some bourbon vanilla added), high-alcohol explosion of stout-like quality. A third of a big bottle of this 11.5 per cent sugar blast was enough for me to kick off a Comic Con.

Besides, my Momma taught me it’s always nice to share.

*

Shout outs to Don of Brew Hah Ha fame: Funny Thing Happened on the Way to ComiCon and Cat of The Cat Came Back: ComiCon Without Actually Doing ComiCon who already blogged their versions of the events depicted here, as well as to our ex-pat Canuck pal Steve, all of 5 foot 19 in New Zealand, with his own tale of beer festivals and cab drivers down under: White-knuckle Taxi Driver fever.

Cheers!

The most excellent Amsterdam adventure

With exotic places like Cleveland and Barrie to choose from, is it any wonder Cat and I chose Amsterdam for our beer adventure?

Truth is, it wasn’t our first choice.

After Cat, Don and I had a blast at our Bellwoods brewpub outing, we started planning our next brew tour. Don had to bow out (“working,” he said, almost convincingly), so I offered to take charge. As the lovely Cat didn’t know me all that well, she shrugged and said “knock yourself out."

A couple days later I’m messaging her all excited. “Great Lakes,” I shouted, citing an award-winning Etobicoke brewery that I had earlier dismissed because they didn’t have any IPAs listed on their website. “They have, like three, and a Double IPA and OMG we gotta go.”

“Fine,” says Cat. “I’m in.”

And then, a couple of days after that I’m back on the brewery website and I notice that something just doesn’t seem right, starting with the address: Great Lakes Brewery, 2516 Market Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio.

Umm, Cat? Oopsie.

“Well, I did have a good time the last time I was in Cleveland. Saw the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame …”

But not this weekend? I didn’t think so. So I was working on Plan B when a new twist in the plot developed. A giant, smash-bomby twist. Flying Monkeys Brewery in Barrie, home of the legendary (to me) Smashbomb Atomic IPA, was hosting  a launch party (free beer, free food, free beer – did I say that already?) for Shoulders of Giants IIPA, a massively hopped-up, 10 per cent super Smashbomb.

In two days.

“It is to die for,” I said to Cat. “I’m in,” she said.

“Get your ass out of Burlington and join us,” I said to Don. “I’m working,” he replied, almost convincingly.

“C’mon, Steve. Let’s go!” I said to our pal in New Zealand. Oh, right.  New Zealand.

But, as the Rolling Stones taught us, you can’t always get what you want, and circumstances conspired to rise up against us on the day of the party, forcing us to cancel. No worries. It’ll be in the LCBO this spring.

At that, I threw in the towel and gave the job of planning the tour to the Master Planner herself. Cat, who lives mere minutes from Amsterdam Brewery and has been there so many times her number is on the wall, chose … Amsterdam Brewery.

So there we were on Saturday, promptly at one p.m., in the brewery drinking free beer (Spring Bok – not bad; Amsterdam Blonde – meh; and Big Wheel Amber Ale – pretty good session beer) when we heard the bad news: There was a hop shortage somewhere, there was no Fracture (their excellent IIPA) at the bar and our tour guide was late.

No need to panic on the hop shortage, we were told. Fracture – a highly rated and very aromatic beer (marijuana, I’m told, though I don’t get that), and one that I had merely sampled a few months back, is available at the bottle shop and “here, have some more free beer while you wait.”

I’m thinking we could solve a lot of the world’s problems this way.

Amsterdam Brewery's Boneshaker IPA

Anyway, we eventually did the tour with Helder as our guide and I sort of paid attention to his patter about the beer making process. The highlight was, surprisingly, a visit to the lager room, which is where they also stored their hops.

The aroma hits you as soon as you step into the room. The dried hops look like rabbit food but the smell is intense. So intoxicating, in fact, that I took a few outside and used them as cologne pellets.  A little under my chin, a little behind the ears…

Seriously.

And then we went back to the bar to sample more of Amsterdam’s wares.

By this time I was ready for an IPA. “Boneshaker,” I told Helger (who was now running the bar), referring to the brewery’s signature India Pale Ale. “He really wants Boneshaker,” added Cat helpfully.

Helger has his routine, however, and that meant starting with the lighter beers like 416 (a lager), more Amber Ale (sure, why not?), another round of the Blonde (which I passed on) and some KLB Raspberry Wheat.

I like the wheat beers (though this wasn’t my favourite), and this one got Cat’s claws out. Helger was explaining that if you order the KLB at the Brew house (on Queen’s Quay on the city’s waterfront) you will get it on ice and they’ll throw some real raspberries in it.

“That’ll turn it into a chick drink,” said one young fellow at the other end of the bar, somewhat unwisely, which earned him the death stare from Cat, as well as this very awesome challenge: “I could probably Boneshaker and Fracture drink you under the table.”

I couldn’t have said it. I couldn’t have said it any better.

Next up was some Downtown Brown (rich, very nice – and I’m not big on brown ales) and a look at their malt board, which shows the 17 types of malt used at the brewery.

“Malt abacus,” noted Cat, who is now funny as well as someone who could “Boneshaker and Fracture you under the table.” (It is an awesome line, isn’t it?)

And finally, the Boneshaker itself. Mmmmmm…so hoppy. That’s some Amsterdam good beer.

And just like that, a huge crowd from the next tour (we were six, they were 56) rushed in and filled up the bar. “Aah, if you don’t mind going to the tables,” asks Helger, “and here, have some more Boneshaker.”

On the way out (after our bottle shop visit) we agreed to meet at a nearby plaza for burgers and to visit the LCBO for, well, more beer. She texts me while I’m inside the liquor store’s beer cooler (looking for IPAs), clearly confused as to which store I went to first. “Where are you?”

As if you’d have to ask, Cat.

*

I got around to drinking Fracture, the IIPA from Amsterdam that I brought home from the bottle shop, that evening and I have to say I was suitably impressed.

Huge hop flavor with a nine per cent kick in the pants. Didn’t smell any weed – pine, maybe – and I got the usual grapefruit (I seem to smell grapefruit in every decent IPA) – with a boozy finish. Now that’s an Amsterdam good beer.

My sample size is still small, but Fracture just jumped into a tie for second with Twice as Mad Tom (Muskoka) on my Imperial IPA list, just behind Witchshark (insert Homer Simpson drool) from Bellwoods Brewery.

That’s good company.

I had also been meaning to pick up a couple of bottles of beer as gifts from 5 Paddles Brewery (a Whitby microbrewery located just a few miles from my apartment), and finally remembered to stop there on the way to Amsterdam.

The IPA (Narcissism of Minor Differences) they had a couple of days before was gone, so I picked up a brown ale with an appropriate name for Cat (Liver Cleanse) and an ESB (Extra Special Bitter) called Paddlers Pride for me.

I’d had bitters – probably very different than this one – many years before, so I was looking forward to this beer. But I was also worried it may be too malty for my tastes. I’m a hopped-up IPA guy after all, and malt-forward beers like ESBs may not to be my liking.

I shouldn’t have worried. It was really good. Poured a deeper colour than an IPA, but it wasn’t like the brown ales, porters or stouts I've had ... issues with. Tasted strong, even though it was just 5.5 per cent, and went down just fine.

Really enjoyed it, 5 Paddles dudes. And as a bonus, I’ve found another beer style I like.

Win-win.

*