I’ve been away from the blog for too long. 2009 went by in a blur. There were trips to SF and Philly Beer Weeks. There was a job at Bottleworks that started in May. There was a helluva a lot of drinking. It was a good year, but also an exhausting one.

2010 has started off much the same. I’m heading to SF for Beer Week in early February, I’m still working at Bottleworks and I’m still drinking more beer than a doctor would recommend.

At the same time, 2010 is going to be different. My days at Bottleworks are numbered. I’ve turned in my notice, the hiring process is rolling along and my replacement should be chosen soon. I’ll miss working there, but I’m going to enjoy having more free time.

I hope to use some of that time to blog again. While I’ll still write here, I’ll also be contributing to Geoff Kaiser’s Seattle Beer News. My first post for SBN appeared last week.

As for what to expect here, I have a few ideas. One is reviewing a bar each week. So far, I’ve been to the Pacific Inn Pub in Fremont and the Galway Arms in the U District. Look for posts on those soon.

If you have any ideas for other weekly themes, fire away in the comments. We’ll see if I can get this thing rolling again… at least for a little while.

Maybe I’m simple-minded, but I enjoy the drunken graffiti littering the bathroom walls of San Francisco’s Toronado. I had a good buzz going when I saw this back in September and even considered doing a companion piece showing my stomach lining loving some Russian River sour beers. Toronado is one of my favorite places to drink, even though it seems to be attracting more of the beer snob crowd in the last year or two. The perfect time to show up is early afternoon on a weekday. It’s rarely crowded and you can sit at the bar, have a few and usually have an interesting conversation with a perfect stranger.

Oh, one other thing I should mention: I disagree with the opinion of many (including one of my beer-blogging peers) that Toronado’s barkeeps are too surly. Yeah, the first time I walked into the place, I asked a question about a beer and got a sneer followed by a sample slammed down on the bar. I didn’t take it personally. Any drinker knows that you have to feel a place out, figure out how they do things. Just because the Toronado has a world-class beer selection doesn’t mean the bartenders have an obligation to stroke your balls and wax eloquent about the flavor profile of the beers on tap. It took me all of two minutes to size things up and realize it’s the kind of bar where you come strong–have cash out, make eye contact and say what you want when the bartender looks your way. I do that and I’ve been treated just fine–sometimes better than fine. I understand people like to have their egos massaged, but I’m glad Toronado isn’t that kind of place.

Who makes it: Tibet Lhasa Brewery in Lhasa, Tibet. They claim to be the world’s highest commercial brewery and the only one in the Tibetan Autonomous Region.

What kind of beer is it: Pale Lager. According to Lhasa, they use Himalayan spring water, Tibetan barley and Saaz hops.

What I thought of the beer: Lhasa’s a standard lager with grainy malt flavors and a mild hop bitterness in the finish. It’s drinkable and that’s about it. What’s really interesting is the background information on the brewery.

Dzambuling, the US company that imports Lhasa, claims that the production of Lhasa is helping the Tibetan people, pointing out that 72% of Lhasa’s employees are ethnic Tibetans and that 10% of the company’s profits are donated to “support philanthropic intervention in Tibet.” That’s in direct contrast with a petition that says that Lhasa is partially owned by a Communist Chinese company and should be boycotted because of the Communist Chinese treatment of Tibetans and the use of beer production to “erode Tibetan culture” by increasing alcoholism rates. The petition is a little over-the-top, but the Lhasa website says the brewery is owned by “a domestic corporation” and Denmark’s Carlsberg Group, and who knows who the domestic corporation is? Also, you’ve got to wonder how much Carlsberg gives a shit about preserving Tibetan culture.

Rating: *½
Don’t believe all the horrible reviews of Lhasa on ratebeer.com. I thought it was a drinkable lager with no offensive flavors. The whole ethical dilemma behind the brewery is another matter. I’m not sure what to believe.

Pulled a disappearing act again, but I haven’t given up my quest to drink every beer at Bottleworks. I’ve been drinking, just not writing about it. I’ll cop to procrastination, but I’ve also been going out and living life a little instead of sitting in my recliner, swirling and sniffing beer and drinking with my pinky out. To catch up, here’s a quick recap of the nine beers I’ve tried since last time:

7. New Belgium Hoptober – 5 hops and 4 malts add up to a beer that doesn’t have an identity. Tried it two times and both times the flavors were muddled and nothing grabbed me enough to make me want to keep drinking. (*)

8. Hale’s O’Brien’s Harvest Ale – Some people think this is one of Hale’s best beers, but I’m not one of them. Couldn’t finish the whole bottle. The earthy hop flavor wasn’t my thing and bitterness sat on my tongue in a bad way. After half a bottle, I was slogging my way through and not getting any enjoyment out of it. (*)

9. Bayern Oktoberfest – Wow, this was not good. Way too sweet and overall crappy-tasting. Drain pour. If anyone bought a sixer of this, I feel for you. (zero stars)

10. Leinenkugel Classic Amber – For what it is, it wasn’t bad. It’s on the bland side, but there’s enough flavor to keep you interested. In a certain situation, I could take down a bunch of these and have no complaints. (**)

11. Victory Sunrise – I’m out of my element talking about wheat beers, but this one had the flavors you’d expect from the style. Something was missing, though. Would I have it again when Weihenstephaner or Ayinger are around? Probably not. (*½)

12. Lagunitas Lucky 13 – Some of Lagunitas’s 8%+ beers are too sweet for me, but this big red ale has the right balance of hoppy bitterness and malty sweetness. It’s almost as tasty as Mad River’s Double Dread. (***)

13. Tilburg’s Dutch Brown Ale – I wanted to like this more than I did. Cool Hieronymous Bosch image on the label, brewed inside the Konigshoeven abbey… but I was a little underwhelmed. It was like a toned-down Belgian dubbel (a style not really in my wheelhouse to begin with). Not bad, but nothing I’m gonna make a point of having again soon. (**)

14. Spaten Oktoberfest – Not as rich malt-wise as Ayinger’s, but more drinkable. I could throw back a couple of liters if I were in Munich right now. (**½)

15. Big Sky Trout Slayer Ale – A wheat/pale ale from the can that was refreshing at first, but took a turn for the worse with an odd bitterness about halfway through. Maybe you just need to drink it ice cold in 3 minutes or less. (*½)

Who makes it: Bayerische Staatsbrauerei Weihenstephan. Located in the Bavarian city of Freising in Germany. Founded in 1040, it’s the oldest existing brewery in the world.

What kind of beer is it: Festbier or Oktoberfestbier. A lager brewed in the spring to be consumed in the fall around fest time. Weighs in at 5.8% ABV.

What I thought of the beer: Even though I have a lot to learn, my appreciation for German beer is growing. I now know that this style isn’t necessarily amber or super malty or full-bodied to the point of slowing you down. Weihenstephaner’s version is golden, has a definite floral hoppiness and is an easy drinker. There’s plenty of malt and a bit of sweetness, but the flavor you get from the malt is very toasty/bready. I hate to douche it up, but there’s a “smooth, creamy mouthfeel” going on here that makes the beer rich without coming across as heavy. This is just a damn tasty beer.

Rating: ****
Because they’re so different, you can’t really compare this to the Ayinger Oktober Fest-Märzen I had last week, but forced to choose, I’d take the Weihenstephaner. It may not have the depth of malt flavor that Ayinger has, but there’s still a lot going on and it’s much more drinkable. One of my co-workers at Bottleworks told me that this batch of Festbier may be the freshest-tasting German bottled beer he’s ever had. I know I’ll be buying and drinking a few more of these while we still have them.

Who makes it: Great Divide Brewing from Denver, Colorado.

What kind of beer is it: Rye märzen lager. Great Divide’s first crack at a commercially-released lager. Weighs in at 6.2% ABV.

What I thought of the beer: Tried a taste of this at the end of a long night of sampling and the five of us universally panned it. Figured it deserved another shot (mostly because it’s called Hoss and has a lumberjack on the label). For a märzen, this doesn’t have enough malt complexity to be in the ballpark of solid German examples of the style. The rye–which is supposed to give the beer a spicy, crisp balance to its “rich, layered malt notes”–registers in the smell but not much in the taste. Hoss has a thin, watery quality that I’m guessing would not please your average beer fan, let alone a lumberjack.

Rating: *
I finished the whole bottle, but didn’t have a good time doing it. Great Divide needs to give this beer more flavor if they’re gonna continue it as a seasonal. Not recommended for beer douches, lumberjacks or drinkers who are tempted by a beer named Hoss (like me).

Who makes it: Brauerei Aying (Ayinger Brewery), located in the Bavarian village of Aying in Germany.

What kind of beer is it: Oktoberfest/Märzen, a lager usually brewed in March (Märzen in German) and cold-stored over the spring and summer months. Comes in a 500 ml. bottle and weighs in at 5.8% ABV.

What I thought of the beer: I approached this having heard how amazing the brewery is and how this beer is probably the best Oktoberfest beer, so having that in my head may have tainted my impression. All I know is I liked it. I appreciated that it was hugely malty without being very sweet. I also liked that it had some hop flavor and finished on the dry side. It did seem a little heavy for a beer that’s under 6%, due to the richness of the malt. I’m not sure if I could put down liters of it, but I enjoyed every ounce of this bottle.

Rating: ***½
You can fit what I don’t know about German beer in a set of encylopedias, so I’m not going to pretend to know how this beer compares to other Oktoberfest/Märzens. I liked it and would drink it again, but I won’t say it was a revelatory experience that’ll have me wearing lederhosen and binging on German beer. I’m thinking it’ll take a trip to Germany to do that.

Who made it: Mad River Brewing from Blue Lake, California (up in the hippie paradise of Northern California’s Humboldt County). They’ve been around since 1989 and have several year-round beers under two brand names: Steelhead and Jamaica.

What kind of beer is it: Imperial Red Ale (basically an amber on steroids). Part of Mad River’s limited release High Gravity series to commemorate their 20th anniversary. Comes in a 12 oz. bottle and weighs in at 8.6% ABV.

What I thought of the beer: A lot of sweet, caramel malt flavor followed by a shit-ton of hops with bitterness that lingers, but not in an unpleasant way. If I were going for Beer Douche of the Week honors, I might say “copious amounts of malt and hops intertwine to create a pleasingly complex yet quaffable delicacy.” I’ll stick with saying that everything is big about this beer and it’s goddamned tasty. Not sure if it’d be a good idea to have more than one of these in a sitting, but I could. Not difficult to drink even though it’s strong, and has some heft to the body.

Rating: ***½
This is a tasty beer that I’d drink again if I could, but it’s a limited release that’s come and gone. Would’ve been interesting to try it on tap. Look forward to checking out any future beers in this series.

Who made it: Echigo Beer Co. from the Niigata Prefecture of Japan. They were the first Japanese craft brewery (founded in 1995) and are known for making a tomato beer.

What kind of beer is it: Rice lager. Named Koshihikari for the type of rice used; it’s a variety common to Niigata. Comes in a 500 ml. bottle and weighs in at 5% ABV.

What I thought of the beer: Not a lot to say about beers like this. Looks like a pale lager, smells like a pale lager, tastes like a pale lager. Can you taste the rice? Yeah, I guess so. Maybe not if you weren’t already aware that it’s in there. Unfortunately, there’s a weird sweetness to this beer that doesn’t hit me right. It’s too bad because otherwise it’s an easy drinker.

Rating: *½
The best thing I can say about Hoshikari Echigo is that it’d probably be good to throw down with Japanese food or to quench your thirst on a hot day. But the high craft beer price and the intrusive sweetness make me wonder: if I were out eating noodles or sushi, would I choose it over Japanese macro stuff like Sapporo or Kirin? I’m not sure that I would.

Who made it: Broughton Ales, a Scottish brewery located in the village of Broughton in the Scottish Borders south of Edinburgh. They bottle 11 beers.

What kind of beer is it: Scottish ale. Broughton calls it a “dark ruby coloured ale with a rich full-bodied malt flavour and overtones of roast fruit,” but I’m gonna call it a Scottish ale. If you want me to get all BJCP on you, it comes closest to the Export (or 80 shilling) classification in the Scottish ale category. The beer comes in a 500 ml. bottle and weighs in at 5.2% ABV.

What I thought of the beer: When you buy a beer called Black Douglas, you expect to open the bottle and pour something really dark and robust. The beer’s label tells the story of a badass knight who was a trusted friend of Robert the Bruce and died fighting the Moors in Spain while trying to transport Robert the Bruce’s heart to Jerusalem. Okay, so, that said, this has to be some kind of black-as-night stout, right? Nope, it’s a Scottish ale. And I can’t say I have a shitload of experience drinking Scottish ales, but I do know it’s a malt-forward style. This can sometimes mean too much sweetness and I’m not into that. Fortunately, the Black Douglas has a roasty malt flavor with an almost smoky twang to it. There’s also some sweetness and a little hop bitterness. It’s light- to medium-bodied and a pretty easy drinker.

Rating: **½
If you’re gonna call a beer Black Douglas, you should probably make it darker than a Scottish (Export) ale, like a stout. People may buy it expecting that, and will get pissed off when it’s not. Even the picture on the brewery’s website (above) is misleading. They make it look like a stout and I’m telling you, it was transparent dark amber. Taste-wise, I had no problem finishing the bottle and enjoyed some aspects of it. All the flavors are subdued, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s not a beer that’s going to linger in your mind when you’re done. Probably won’t seek it out again unless I’m planning to douche it up with a horizontal tasting of Scottish ales.