Since I am in the company of those who appreciate quality, I will risk raising a topic that has received much previous discussion. Indeed, I will also raise my glass, for the topic of which I speak is beer, yea beer of only the highest quality. For many years I was treated to the wares of a local brewery, highly esteemed for the excellence of its dark beers. But alas, with increasing demand the local Brewmaster grew tired of producing quantity, when quality was his sole ambition. Eventually the whiskey-barrel-aged imperials, the maibocks, and oatmeal stouts became a memory, only recalled in the event of the opening of some trove of vintage stock. A new brewer had replaced the master. The quality was good, much better than the trafe of the major breweries, but something was lost. Tonight I have tasted a beer that recalls dim memories, of quiet afternoons between chemistry classes, spent sipping rich, malty, flowing amber and reading Tolkien letters, poems and novels. Should fate ever gift you the chance, give pause to indulge yourself with Nostradamus Belgian Brown Ale. It is rich in palette, and weighs in at a gentle 9.5% alcohol. And now, a good eve to kith and kin, for the sweet singing of stringed instruments calls.
