Monday, March 22, 2010

The Dark Truth About the 400 Lb. Monkey

I was nervous all day. I'd made pronouncements, I'd said some things, I'd done some complaining. Everything I said was going to happen already happened and now my big statement was about to be tested. I wanted something special to eat and drink while I watched it happen so I picked up a bottle of Dark Truth Stout and some carryout from RJ's Bob-Be-Que. Stella was going out with her friends, I could watch it all unfold.

The Dark Truth was the perfect accompaniment to the excitement as everything I believed was about to come to fruition. In fact, it didn't last quite long enough. It still had an hour left and the bottle was dry. The adrenaline pumping through my veins masked the fact that I had just drank 750 ml of 9.7% ABV goodness. I may have sold Dark Truth a little short in my initial review much like most people sold the coming dark truth short.

I went down to the basement fridge and found the Left Hand 400 lb Monkey. I was drinking it the night before and absolutely loved it. It was hoppy yet not overly so. It was like making 40 garlic clove chicken, you'd think it would be overpoweringly garlicky, yet it is sweet and sublime. In this case the garlic is hops and they somehow have a different character than what you'd expect. The 400 lb. Monkey is a different kind of IPA and a welcome change to the typical hop bomb IPA. It was an apt beer to drink while it was happening.

It's something I harp on all the time when I talk about the thing. I come from a place where we all believe it. The thing is, all evidence to the contrary, the majority don't believe it. It's not given a chance. The status quo wins out by not allowing the challenge. If you don't get the chance to prove yourself, if you fail one test and succeed in many others, the one failure is the only one remembered. Not on this day, this day things were going to change. It was going to happen and it was going to be decisive.

I decided I was going to pop open one of my 3 remaining 2008 Boulevard Saison-Bretts when it happened. The anticipation was building, I couldn't believe it was actually going to happen, but I could believe it could and should happen. Then it was over, the last moments were tense, but when the issue was settled it was decisive and beautiful. I popped the cork on the Saison-Brett with my hand still hurting from pounding on my ottoman when the decisive action happened. The Saison was bubbly like champagne, again apt for the occasion. The joy of drinking my favorite beer was overshadowed by the joy of it happening, but joy of the whole thing was greater than the sum of the parts.

UNI 69 - KU 67


  1. The sweetest, cold-hearted, bitch of a dagger to the heart I have ever had the pleasure to observe.

  2. I hate you. You suck. Your postings blow donkey balls.