"Dude, it tastes like wood."

That was my response after trying my first ever beer. It was a Killian's Red that my dear friend Jeff had conjured from somewhere and my first thought was that it tasted like I was sucking on a freshly cut piece of wood. To this day Jeff still offers me "a cold bottle of wood juice" whenever I visit. 

Belgian Miracle

Contrast that first experience with the one pictured above - the best beer I have ever had. It is made in small batches by a brewer in Ghent, Belgium and is sold at only one place in the world - a pub called De Garre, in Bruges. It was both smooth and full flavored, light and substantial, sweet and hoppy. In short, it was perfect. And at 11% alcohol, it was like riding a well-appointed rocket ship to the moon.

We had just arrived in Bruges, With Marissa's younger brother and his friend in tow. Our train from Amsterdam got us in after lunch and we were hungry. We ordered some small sandwiches and this beer. Our server was lovely in a hearty Belgian farm-girl sort of way. We nibbled our late lunch, moaned in delight as we finished what we knew was a once-in-a-lifetime round, and promptly went out for a large bag of frites. 

The Ultimate Reward

Now this particular brew is the Black Raven Oatmeal Stout at the Moab Brewery just outside of Arches National Park. It is being enjoyed after a day of hiking in the red rock desert. What is it about beer that makes it so refreshing after physical toil? It doesn't quench thirst the way water does, and it isn't (or shouldn't be) icy cold refreshing like a soda. It just provides a soothing coolness, like a cold damp cloth on the back of one's neck, that relaxes the body like nothing else can.

Marriage Made in Heaven

One of my favorite little things in the world is the perfect combination that is Japanese food and Japanese beer. Whether it is ramen, sushi, sashimi or tempura - the meal is not complete unless it is being washed down with a cool, crisp Kirin Ichiban or one of any number of other Japanese brands.

To me, it isn't just beer and Japanese food - it has to be Japanese beer. A terrific Northwest IPA and sushi? Sorry. Heineken? Closer, but not the same as a Sapporo. It seems to be the whole idea of balance. The crispy/saltiness of tempura is balanced by the cleansing crispness of Japanese beer. The richness of the ramen broth is balanced by the lightness of Japanese beer, and on and on. I just love the combination.

Friends Indeed

There is nothing as comforting as sharing a beer with a friend. And when you don't get to see your friends as often as you would like, sometimes that means staying up until the wee hours talking nonsense while you drink one or two too many. Sure, the next morning is a little foggy, and I may not remember all of the details, but I feel happier all the same. I fully anticipate repeating this ritual with "Mr. Woodjuice" above until we are too old to drink at all.

The Right Thing at the Right Time

The first time I ever tasted beer I thought it was terrible. I eventually grew to love it, keeping a supply in the fridge and having one almost every day. I don't do that anymore, either (and my waistline and wallet are better off). Now when I have a beer, it is like a mini special occasion, and one that I always enjoy.