A friend of mine invited me over to his house for a very low stakes poker game which suited me nicely since I am not a poker player. In fact, poker had nothing to do with why I decided to go. Nope, the main reason I decided to go was to share a bottle or two of this "new to me" porter with my friend.
He is a fan of porters and stouts, and he has been very helpful in getting me started to becoming a homebrewer. Ever since he shared a bottle of his Liquid Malt Extract first brew with me, I was hooked.
Since that time I have been researching the art of brewing, and there is a lot to learn. Brewing is scientific and exact, yet it is also mysterious and enigmatic. My research has been obsessive and fun. So, not only was I going to share a porter with my friend, I was also going to share with him a fantastic bit of information about the effect of water hardness on brewing.
When I arrived there were no seats left around the table. Several young college guys had beat me to the party because I had a previous engagement. I put the beer in the chiller and watched the game. My friend asked me what I had been up to, so I told him that I had a porter in the fridge for him to try, and that I had learned why different regions of the world are well known for different styles of beer.
One of the college guys, a curly headed, clean shaven, future republican committee chairman perked up. As I was sharing my newfound information, the overly confident college kid began interrupting. Apparently, he knew some home brewers, and he had plenty to share. He said that he had never worried about water hardness at all. He also said that he only worried about the specific gravity of the wort and that it didn't seem to make any difference in his beer. Then he remarked that the Flying Dog Road Dog Porter I had brought was a "decent porter from a decent brewery." His conversation was unending, and his conversation was one sided.
I don't mean that I didn't talk back to him. To my friends regret, I did, but it soon became evident that this young man had nothing to learn from anyone, about anything. Everything he said was a suggestion or a recommendation about how I could make my future ale attempts meet his already high level of expertise. When I realized that this was not a mutual discourse to pursue the brewer's art, but rather that it was a sermon to the less informed initiate, I disengaged. It turns out that the sermon continued for quite a while before my lack of retort encouraged him to switch subjects.
When the bottles were cool I poured one for myself and one for my friend. Thankfully, due to the young expert's analysis no one else was anxious for a glass. I spoke a silent thanksgiving for that and handed the glass over.
The beer poured an almost black ruby red in the glass. Little head formed and the head that did form dissipated quickly. The aroma was of rich malt, and the initial flavor was of cola followed by malt with an aggressive carbonation. The mouthfeel was lighter than one would expect from a porter. It was not the best porter that I had ever had, but it was more interesting, more flavorful, more complex than anything else at the table, and we didn't have to share.
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