You know what I’m talking about, when the weather’s like this every day:
Warm, sunny (but not humid) days and cool, breezy evenings. I’m thinking Thursday, Friday (maybe around 8pm), Saturday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and next Thursday if we’re using this forecast as a mood model. Perfectly continental weather in a transitional key – porter weather, for me. Enjoy these seven stoutly porters to pair with such local environmental optimalities.
Limfjords Porter: bold as the typeface recommends. The liquorice promised on the bottlecopy has not arrived, but its suggestion turns every sip into inquisition. And that means I have chewed my way through a glass of this Danish porter. Perfect roast for a cold and rainy March evening.
Finnish, dark as the coalsmoke that pours out of St. Petersburg and rolls over Ladoga at dusk. The head looks like scratches in rough ebony. The finish…AY-O!!!
Dan the Lakefront Brewery tax guy made this beer which I now enjoy to mark the filing of my own 2011 taxes (As of posting, it’s 2016 and I’ve just received a nice revenue error in my favor.) It’s got a figgyness to it, with the body of a Libyan mercenary. And it’s a roast shy of pan drippings. Christ.
The storied arrival in New Jersey of Cleveland’s own Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald porter. Subtle body supports a semisweet finish, unrecreated. It’s the thing of lore itself. A buzzy porter without the molasses. A great beer.
Aldaris Porter: superb Latvian porter. Which is to say, I shall slumber well under warm notes of toffee and amber.
Murder and Manslaughter, the title goes. A kleine schwarzbier (read: Imperial Baltic Porter) lost to East German pallor for a good forty years, now found in the cellars of Ball Square Fine Wines, in Somerville, MA. Unclear if the implied brutality would have been civil or criminal in nature in the beer’s original context. Celebrated probably. Dry, satiny; pours fast as if a shiv out of a coat pocket.
Slumbrew’s Porter Square Porter says what streetlamp reflections do when their puddles are reconfigured by the pneumatic rush of bus tires. Rain, black oxford dress shoes with leaves stuck to the soles. September. Missing this here in Lincoln, NE.