The Beer I want to Share...

 

I have a lot of very good beer in my cellar, Lots of Barrel aged beauties and Farmhouse Ales, Belgian and other notable pints wait for a day to made special by their presence. I long ago gave up the notion that a beer need be saved for a special occasion, without children those come a lot less frequently than you could imagine; and outside of our annual tradition of drinking the cellar during our beer advent calendar at Christmas, we drink them when the fancy strikes us. So as I've opined before, letting a special beer make the day special has become our mantra and I'll tell you that it has been a great way to get ourselves through this year of turmoil and isolation. A Bourbon Barrel aged stout in the pool on a random Wednesday in August was purely sublime and that one on a not so good day in October helped to lift our spirits up when we needed it. Beer in and of itself cannot be the answer to sadness or happiness, but it can be used to ease the former and enhance the latter. 

But.

  I am saving a special bottle for an occasion I hope to see in 2021, on the hope that we can all get right with the vaccination and gather together in friendship and beer. 2 years ago, my pal Karol dropped into Hamilton on his yearly jaunt from Europe and we finally were able to meet in person and share a few beers at Collective Arts and Merit Brewing. As he was leaving to go home, he stopped by my work with some treats from his native Slovakia and one particular beauty from Belgium. A bottle of Belgium's Cantillon Gueuze 100% Lambic Bio, a rare treat for this Belgian beer loving guy. Profuse thanks were handed out and a speedy return to visit again was wished...then, well, 2020 happened and that was rendered impossible. But I know the future will bring more visits and I will do my level best to repay the kindness of my new European friends with some Ontario pints of renown. He is not the person for this beer though, I've got another one waiting for him.

  Now Polk, you may be wondering, where is this all going? Indeed, I understand it has been a circuitous journey and now we come to what to do with the singular experience this beer is sure to bring, for Kathryn is no fan of anything Lambic, so she has no interest in what's inside. The pandemic and isolation make sharing it out right now impossible, so it must wait and wait we will. But the person I wish to share it with has become a dear friend, even though most of our interactions are online and the occasional phone call, a friendship founded in beer and forged in a love of justice, truth and doing what is right. He has become a sounding board for my words, a voice in a lost fog of a year and a true-blue friend when I thought it not possible to find another as I approach 50 years on this planet. Our mutual love of so many of the same styles of beer, not just the big IPAs or Bourbon Barrel aged stouts, but the red ales and ESBs of the world also includes all things Belgian, from Wit to Quad and everywhere in-between. 

You know where this is going now, eh?

When we come out the other side of this pandemic, a little tired and beat up, missing so much of the life outside our own homes and ready to see a little more of the world again, I have a lot of folks I cannot wait to raise a pint or two with. Good friends and family whom I miss dearly and fondly wait to reunite with, but this bottle, this singular experience will be saved for some random day when he and I can finally break bread, raise a glass or 6 and enjoy this double friendship beer together with our families. We will let the beer make the day even more special because it will no doubt be a pretty amazing day on its own. A silly little wish in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, but one I hold onto with my heart.

Let the world heal, one pint at a time.

Cheers,

Polk