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[martinuzz]

As much as I like the various double and triple abbey and trappist beers, I have yet to find a kriek that I can stomach. Just too much cherry. (Some trappists / abbey beers do use a tiny whiff of cherry amongst other fruits and spices, that's quite okay, but kriek, no.)

[Sheb]

As much as I like the various double and triple abbey and trappist beers, I have yet to find a kriek that I can stomach. Just too much cherry. (Some trappists / abbey beers do use a tiny whiff of cherry amongst other fruits and spices, that's quite okay, but kriek, no.)

Mort Subite is quite good, but most kriek are way too sweet. Try Kasteel Rouge once maybe which is less overpoweringly sweet.

[martinuzz]

I already tried the Kasteel Rouge. Didn't like. I do like the Kasteel double. I'll see if I can find the Mort Subite anywhere nearby, haven't tried that one.

[Sheb]

I already tried the Kasteel Rouge. Didn't like. I do like the Kasteel double. I'll see if I can find the Mort Subite anywhere nearby, haven't tried that one.

If you can, try to grab a bottle of the geuze version (non-cherry) so you can compare both.

[Avis-Mergulus]

So how is Kilkenny Red Ale similar to a loveless marriage?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

No head.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I made that one up myself, and I'm inordinately proud of it.

BTW, does anyone know why red ale (I assume you mean cherry flavored ale) have no foam at all?

Nah, red ale is not cherry-flavored (did you mean kriek?), it's just reddish-brown. And it usually has very little foam.
Most kriek I've tried had a respectable amount of foam, though, so I dunno if we're on the same page here.

Nah, kriek is a cherry-flavoured Lambic, I thinking of beers like Kasteel Rouge or Rodenback rouge which are ale with added cherry and that famously have no head at all. Not entirely sure what you refers to by red ale then.

I mean Irish red ale, which is, well, just a kind of slightly red-colored pale ale. I've never tried any cherry-flavored beer which wasn't kriek, so my mind automatically went there. And yeah, Kilkenny Red is different from Kilkenny Cream, the latter has head.
I do love kriek, though. I kinda want to try Kasteel Rouge now, but I'm not sure if I can find any here.

I already tried the Kasteel Rouge. Didn't like. I do like the Kasteel double. I'll see if I can find the Mort Subite anywhere nearby, haven't tried that one.

Mort Subite is pretty sweet, though. I love it, but I dunno if you will.

[Sheb]

So how is Kilkenny Red Ale similar to a loveless marriage?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

No head.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I made that one up myself, and I'm inordinately proud of it.

BTW, does anyone know why red ale (I assume you mean cherry flavored ale) have no foam at all?

Nah, red ale is not cherry-flavored (did you mean kriek?), it's just reddish-brown. And it usually has very little foam.
Most kriek I've tried had a respectable amount of foam, though, so I dunno if we're on the same page here.

Nah, kriek is a cherry-flavoured Lambic, I thinking of beers like Kasteel Rouge or Rodenback rouge which are ale with added cherry and that famously have no head at all. Not entirely sure what you refers to by red ale then.

I mean Irish red ale, which is, well, just a kind of slightly red-colored pale ale. I've never tried any cherry-flavored beer which wasn't kriek, so my mind automatically went there. And yeah, Kilkenny Red is different from Kilkenny Cream, the latter has head.
I do love kriek, though. I kinda want to try Kasteel Rouge now, but I'm not sure if I can find any here.

I already tried the Kasteel Rouge. Didn't like. I do like the Kasteel double. I'll see if I can find the Mort Subite anywhere nearby, haven't tried that one.

Mort Subite is pretty sweet, though. I love it, but I dunno if you will.

Oh, yeah, it IS sweet. Just not as sweet as some of the diabetic's piss pretending to be beer.

[martinuzz]

I do love kriek, though. I kinda want to try Kasteel Rouge now, but I'm not sure if I can find any here.

Dunno where is here for you. Over here in the Netherlands, the special beer hype is so great, that you can even get the Kasteel Rouge in the local supermarkets (Albert Heijn), it's not the rarest of beers.
Heh, I should buy a camera/mobile phone and take a picture of our supermarket's special beer displays. It's crazy how many different beers they have.
I haven't had a mobile in 10 years now, and don't really miss it, except for having a camera. I should buy a camera.

[Avis-Mergulus]

I do love kriek, though. I kinda want to try Kasteel Rouge now, but I'm not sure if I can find any here.

Dunno where is here for you. Over here in the Netherlands, the special beer hype is so great, that you can even get the Kasteel Rouge in the local supermarkets (Albert Heijn), it's not the rarest of beers.
Heh, I should buy a camera/mobile phone and take a picture of our supermarket's special beer displays. It's crazy how many different beers they have.
I haven't had a mobile in 10 years now, and don't really miss it, except for having a camera. I should buy a camera.

...How do people call you tho

Also, "here" is Moscow. I can probably buy it somewhere, just not at my local chain store (which has a respectable assortment of imported and local beers, though probably not as much as you get in the Netherlands). It's probably on tap somewhere, though, so I'll just make a mental note for myself to try it if I see it.

Oh, and I actually remembered trying a cherry beer that wasn't kriek before. I think it was a Belgian ale called Delirium Red? It was pretty neat, even if the aftertaste was a little annoying, IIRC.

[Rose]

What do you call a Scandinavian stallion with laryngitis?

A hoarse Norse horse.

[martinuzz]

...How do people call you tho

I do have a landline

[Starver]

...How do people call you tho

I do have a landline

And I have a landmine. Which encourages people to phone me, rather than visit.

[Descan]

how did terrible jokes into beer for pages and pages?

[hector13]

Some beer does appear to be a terrible joke...

[Culise]

Apparently, it was a popular topic, but if we keep it up, I'll inflict a feghoot on you all.
...
Actually, I'll do it anyways.

Spoiler: All blame to John Purcell (click to show/hide)

With a loud sigh of relief, Carl Anderssen cut the primary landing engines of the USS Storm, checking over the controls of the supply freighter, making sure all was in order before throttling down the stabilizer engines. The ship shook as pad clamps latched into place and a green light came on. “Agrippa base, Storm is down and secure,” Anderssen said as calmly as he could, wiped a drop of sweat off his upper lip.

“Copy that,” came the reply. “Glad you made it, Anderssen. Good piloting there.”

“Thank you. I didn’t expect to have to come in like that. Request permission to inspect the store, make sure that everything survived in one piece before unloading.”

“Granted. Just holler when you’re ready and we’ll roll out the unloaders.”

“Will do.” Anderssen cut the com, turned and smiled at his copilot, Wes Highfield, who was mopping color back into his face with a towelette. “Hey, we’re here, buddy. No problem. You can start breathing again.”

Highfield shook his head and wanly smiled back. “You damned near made me puke rolling the ship like that. Sheesh, but that was way too close. Where the hell did that flyer come from?”

“It certainly wasn’t a manned flyer,” Anderssen said, punching out the sequence to turn the storage compartment’s cameras on, then do 180-degree up and down sweeps over the contents. Nothing looked amiss just yet: the way NASA packed and strapped in these supply payload runs to its lunar mining settlements, it would take practically a direct hit from an asteroid to knock anything loose. “It flew too erratically. Betcha it was a security drone from Musk Abode, remote controlled. It was way too small to hold anybody, unless it was a munchkin,” he offered as explanation.

Highfield grunted. “Well, it was big enough to put a dent in our ship if it hit us! Whoever was controlling it sure as hell wasn’t paying attention or watching where it was going. I’m just glad we were able to see it first and get out of the way. That damned thing was heading directly for our starboard side.”

Anderssen nodded. “Yeah, and pretty fast, too. That’s what makes me think it was somebody’s private security drone, taking pictures for posterity, or some such nonsense. These mining operations up here are still relatively new, you know. With new miners and engineers arriving all the time, it wouldn’t surprise me that some idiot newbie thought it would be a good idea to record any incoming/outgoing ships for his grandkids. Thing is, it’s a lot trickier to fly a drone on the moon than in your backyard on Earth. I mean, first off the Musk Abode dome is hidden by the ridge at the top of crater Agrippa. If you can’t see what you’re doing, you’ve got problems right there. Then add in the lesser gravity, and any acceleration is going to be amplified, and don’t forget cameras don’t help much here: surface distances are very hard to judge with no atmosphere getting in the way. What looks only a mile away could easily be fifty miles off. So if you’re piloting one of those things for the first time here, you had better have insured your toy. It would be very easy to crash it into something. Like us.” Anderssen said all this like a high school science teacher, all the while watching the storage compartment screens. So far he had seen no content damage. That was good. Very good. They would still get a full paycheck.

Considering the quick vertical roll up and backwards he had been forced to make, Anderssen and Highfield were lucky to be alive. After their near miss, that drone had flown straight and true back towards the crater’s landing complex while Anderssen took the Storm back around over the Sea of Vapors to turn right side up, slowed to hover a few minutes, watched the drone intently as it drifted across the crater, then up and out in the direction of Musk. By then Anderssen’s heart had started beating normally again, which was when he took the freighter in for its final approach and landed without incident. He made a mental note to check their liquid O2 levels. That fast burn he made surely ate up a sizeable amount.

“Well,” began Highfield, “all I can say is after an approach like that, I need a drink. What have we got on hand on this barge?”

Anderssen thought a moment, said, “I’m not sure. It’s been a while since the crew liquor cabinet’s been stocked. Go down to the galley and check the far right compartment from the microwave.”

Highfield rotated the copilot’s couch upright, unhitched himself, and started climbing down the rungs that lead first to their quarters, then the galley, followed by what passes for a space-faring bathroom (complete with a sort of shower) before the crew module ended. The cargo module – all thirty-five feet of it – was next. At the end of all that, properly separated from crew and cargo, came the business end of the freighter: fuel tanks, engines, and so on. Highfield stopped in the galley and unlatched the door to the compartment three sections over from the microwave. He peered inside and started sliding bottles out of their individual bubble-wraps, which were stacked in an aluminum lattice rack, and started reading off labels: “Taylor’s, Napa Valley…”

“Is there any whiskey?” Anderssen asked. “I could use a belt of that.”

“Nope,” Highfield called back. The sound of bottles clanking resumed. “All I’m seeing in here is wine. Not even a single bottle of beer! Who the hell flew this barge last?”

“I think that was Captain Dickson. She’s a damned good astronaut with a long record of commercial flights to the European Space Station and supply runs out here.” Anderssen laughed. “Figures that she’d be a wine drinker. Me, I like Beam or Jack Daniels.”

“Same here. But I’m more of a beer drinker.” More clinking. “Well, there’s sherry, sangria, tawny port, Colheita, Rose, white port..ga..uh, garra-fie-rah, I think…”

“That’s Garrafeira, Wes,” Anderssen said. “It’s a variety of port wine. Tastes a little bit like bacon.”

“Seriously?” Highfield sounded incredulous. “Whoever heard of bacon-flavored wine?”

Laughing, Anderssen said, “Everything’s better with bacon. Bring it on up. And don’t forget a couple glasses.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. I’ll drink it. Any Port in a Storm.”

Spoiler: And another, because this really got off topic (click to show/hide)

There was a person called Olaf who was unconscienably rude.  He preferred to call it "speaking his mind," but no one around him failed to notice that somehow, this always took the form of insults and belittling.  Perhaps the only thing that calmed him down was taking a nice long train ride out to some random destination, getting drunk along the way, and heading back.  During one of these trips, he finally met a woman every bit his equal who gave as much as she got.  He kept meeting her on these trips, and eventually the two fell in (a very acerbic) love and got married. 

The festivities take days, and everyone notices that even Olaf, vitriolic as he is, is a bit calmer and, dare they say, even happier.  The honeymoon is a long train ride on the Orient Express as far out as Istanbul, but all of the train stewards who were familiar with Olaf from his past journeys have noticed that he quite peculiarly has been abstaining from one particular beverage this trip.  He'll drink wine, whisky, even sherry, but no form of stout, lager, or other beer.  This goes on as far as Budapest, but the second he hops off the train, he heads with his wife to the nearest bar, they both get absolutely smashed, and return to the train drunk as a skunk.  The train continues to Istanbul, and again, he refuses to drink any sort of beer.  A steward finally plucks up the courage to go and actually ask him, since he's such a familiar face, and all the other stewards can hear through the door is a constant stream of vitriol and anger.  Finally the first steward comes out, visibly shaken, but he has the answer: "He hasn't been able to drink any sort of stout, lager, or ale on a train since he got wed.  The taste apparently sits so poorly with him that he can't even get it down anymore."

Another steward nods sagely.  "It makes sense, now that you say it.  Rude Olaf the wed loathes train beer."

[hops]

Discussing alcoholic beverage is getting a bit alt at this point.