I know that title is going to get me into trouble with someone. But isn’t it so appropriate for the picture? And in my mind, it’s at least quasi-true… except maybe for Keith’s… and Murphy’s… oh heck. Beer is just good.
I was never one of those girls who turned up her nose at a glass of the cold stuff, even that awful American “beer” (Coors Light, anyone? Milwaukee’s Best?) I’ve liked beer ever since my mother popped open a Corona, stuck a lime in it, and scooted it towards me, saying, “Mexican food isn’t worth it without beer.” (I got really, really lucky in the mom department.) Ever since then, not only have I embraced beer as a nice way to spend an evening, but also as an appropriate accompaniment to Mexican, Indian, and Japanese cuisine. Oh, and good old fashioned burgers and fries. In fact… I think I might have to start a series on beer. Hmm…
But back to Guinness. This summer, on my whirlwind tour of Europe, we made a stop in Dublin. And what good college student goes to Dublin without at least a peek into the Guinness factory? The whole thing smelled like hops and radiated steam… it felt a lot like some of those Disneyworld rides where you are supposed to feel like it’s foggy out. But the best part was at the top.
On the eighth floor of the Guinness factory, there is a huge bar with glass windows all around, a perfect panorama of Dublin’s fair city. And with your ticket into the factory comes a free pint of the good stuff.
Guinness is like a meal. It’s very, very filling, and that day, we did have our pints as our dinner. It’s difficult to drink a pint of Guinness and then continue your night out at the bar, but I think it’s better that way… you really get to appreciate the complexity of the taste. Guinness is very sweet for a beer, and it tastes strongly of hops. Dark stouts like Guinness taste nothing like their cousins, the lagers, or even like ale. Stout is a whole different category, and I don’t care who hates me for it… Guinness is the king.
Oh… and I kind of stole my glass. Shh… don’t tell.