I Can Haz Beers?

Elliott Bay’s Imperial Stout

In a time of year when you typically yearn for summer, please consider the dark, wintry harshness of an imperial stout. Because summer is for whiny little nerds and you are about to be embarrassed by the cascade of malty waves from the Sea of Stouts.

With tidy avalanches of flavor, this brew’s not-so-subtle attitude spits at you in disgust while you hand over yer lunch money. You could prance to an arboreal existence like some Napoleonic nymph of Calvino. Or you could face yer aggressor face-on, hand-on-glass, imbibe-in-the-belly and POURMEANOTHERONEGODDAMIT! You have become greater than this beast.

This imperial growls like a hound and has eery remnants of coffee and cigarette flavor. So much so that you might think Tom Waits was stealing sips out yer glass while you weren’t looking. There’s also circumstantial evidence of warriors, soldiers and thieves testing their collective might and courage against this fearsome Column of scents and cheekblasting aromas. (note: not butt cheeks)

So test your might, Jonny Cage, to harden yerself for the days ahead because spring, warm as yer faded memories may be, is far off.