In honor of Bob's birthday, we went on a brewery tasting tour with Crush Wine and Beer Tours. Our driver, Gary, picked us up in a minibus wrapped in images of nature. Little did we know that he was Bacchus wearing shorts and a polo shirt.
Our first stop was the Naked Dove brewery, which in restropect should have indicated we were starting on a twisted religious journey. Here's how a beer tasting works: there's a wide range of brews to choose from, you choose one which is served to you in a mini glass, and the Brewer talks at you about IBUs and ABVs while you nod and smile. I remember that the Brewer at Naked Dove was impressed by Bob's beer knowledge, although she trumped him with the background on the growler and the grumbler (these are jugs, I still don't understand why we have to call them anything special).
Enroute to this first stop, I predicted that our quiet ride would build to a crescendo later in the day, and the short ride to the second stop already indicated a higher level of NBC (nonsense bus chatter, measured in units of language per minute).
Our second stop was at Three Huskies Brewery, which is located in the back of a pub called Dubbers. No, I'm not making this up. It turns out that Dubbers serves a great lunch, at least that was our impression after having another flight of beer tastings. Kudos to this brewery for cleverness - everything is dog themed. I'm pretty sure my favorite here was Barktoberfest, for obvious reasons besides the medium Amber color with a spicy nose and a hint of vanilla to finish. Again, I'm not making this up. Brewers take their beer this seriously. Just smile and nod.
Prior to boarding the bus, Gary informs us we have a 45 minute ride to our next stop in Honeoye (again no typo here). Mitch makes no apologies for immediately closing his eyes and falling asleep. It's a fairly quiet ride, low NBC, which I attribute to the fermentation process of the equivalent of four beers in a short period of time.
Sound the trumpets, our carriage has arrived at CB Brewery, a grand operation that primarily brews for restaurants and private label operations. This is home to the king of brewers who has a lot to teach us about our beer. It turns out we are oversimplifying IBUs and ABVs, not taking into account the malt factor. Luckily, we get six tastings here, so we have plenty of time to experiment. I'm intrigued by something called barley wine, mostly because I'm pretty sure it's the liquor of choice of Tess Durbeyfield's irascible father. (Please excuse the obscure literary reference, but I know Dawn Theriault and Marty Bressler have been reading these blogs, so shout out to my triad!)
Bob has decided to buy some of this microbrew, which gives Mitch the idea that they need roadies. In his world, BGE circa 1965, a roadie is defined as a beer to drink while in a vehicle. Much to the King Brewer's delight, he is able to conjure up a couple of cold ones for these two to imbibe. Sue and I wisely decide to move to the back seat together, allowing Bob and Mitch to have immediate proximity to their new best buddy, Gary the driver. The NBC (needless bus chatter) is at an all-time high on the next leg of our journey.
Our last stop is at VB Brewery in Victor. The Brewer here is apparently a scientist, as he tries to explain how all the IBUs, ABVs, and SMRs (color measurement....I think) are actually determined. About the time he said alpha-red beam, I assumed the position of nodding and smiling and thinking about dinner. Mitch absolutely adored the first beer he tasted, which was on a nitro tap, and just kept tasting that one over and over. Bob also loved this beer. We developed our own quality label of CTG (closest to Guinness), and deemed this one the winner. I cannot guarantee our judgement, as it came on our last stop of the day.
Gary finally pulled up to The Inn on the Main and poured us out onto the front lawn. None of us dared to sit down, afraid we would fall asleep. So, like any good, red-blooded American who knows how to live in excess, we went out for dinner. To a German restaurant. Was there really any other choice? We had enough beer in our veins at that point to make us pass a naturalization test in Germany.
And so, we ate schnitzel, and the guys had another beer, which was probably a mistake. And we returned to the Inn and ate the homemade peanut butter balls that our innkeeper left out for us. Probably another mistake. We all admit today to having to sleep sitting up, but hey, it's vacation. A little midweek overindulgence should teach us to reign it in for the second half of the week. We'll see how that theory develops.
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