I am sitting in my La-Z-Boy couch partaking of a mug of Russian imperial stout. Outside, the winter wind blows strong, but that simply accentuates the pleasure I find with each rich, roast-malty mouthful. Stout is a winter beer, Russian imperial stout is the king of stouts, and “The Czar” by Avery is an exceptional Russian imperial stout. What more could a man ask for, in the way of simple delights, than to recline in comfort in a warm, lamplit room and fill his senses with a heady beer steeped in tradition?
What has beer got to do with storm chasing or jazz saxophone? Everything when you”re a beer connoisseur. Along with a good steak, a mugful of frothy brew is the only way to cap off a successful storm chase. And after playing a great gig, there”s nothing like a superb microbrew–a malty Scotch ale or a citrusy, Cascade-hoppy IPA–to complete the evening. Beer is the drink of celebration for storm chasers and musicians, and a good beer is well worth celebrating in its own right.
This Avery”s here is potent stuff. At 10.77 percent ABV, it packs a definite alcoholic warmth, not to mention quite a wallop, though not enough to write my affecting–er, that is, affect my writing.
“The Czar Russian Imperial Stout” received top commendation by Stacey, co-owner with her husband of Pauly”s in Lowell, Michigan. Stacey is one of two people I know whose opinions in the area of beer have clout with me. (The other person is my best friend, Dewey). A few months ago, Stacey underwent training as a beer sommelier, and prior to that, she educated her palate via something like twelve or thirteen years of homebrewing. The woman knows her beer.
Tonight, inspired by renowned beer authority Charles Papazian expounding, in his writings, on a mug of Russian imperial stout, I moseyed into Pauly”s and asked Stacey to recommend a good RIS. She pointed me toward two, but the Avery”s was clearly her favorite, so I went with that. I”m not disappointed. “The Czar” is truly fit for an emperor, royalty in a 22 ounce bottle. At around $11.00, it”s a very pricey bottle, but trust me, this beer is worth it.
My mug is now empty, but my heart is full. I wax eloquent, expanded and uplifted by this fine, tar-black stout.
Beer. If you”ve transcended the mass-produced American pilsners, if your universe has expanded beyond Millers, then chances are that little four-letter word speaks volumes to you, as it does to me.
At the day’s end, after filming tornadoes in Kansas, you cap off your chase with a beer. When the gig is over, after four hours of playing your butt off, you reach for a cold one. Hopefully it’ll also be a good one, a fine ale, lager, or lambic worthy of its title. Given the often limited selection anywhere but in larger cities, you can’t go wrong with a Stella Artois. But whatever your choice may be, if your taste buds have led you off the beaten path of the big American brewers into adventure…I lift my glass to you.
Prost!
