Bart told me to remind you that we have NEW HOURS OF OPERATIONS FOR SUNDAY’S BEER DRINKER’S LUNCH, SPECIFICALLY SINCE WE’RE SERVING FOOD FROM 12-6 NOW AND THE BAR WILL BE OPEN AFTER WE’RE DONE SERVING FOOD. So I did. I totally forgot to and then remembered so I went back and added this before I got into the whole Gose speak…

 

 

 

 

Ok, so last week we talked about my love affair for Lost Nation Pilsner, right? No? We should have because I love that beer so much I called ahead before going up there to have them put a case aside for me to purchase. I gave away a good portion of the case so it’s gone now but, rest assured, I drank the rest over the week (end). I also have been known to buy stores out of it.

 

But that’s not really what we talked about: we’re doing a little Gose education thing right now at your favorite spot for beer and good food (it’s Three Penny Taproom, incase you didn’t know) and all three that I’d planned on pouring for you (not personally, I won’t be there) are on and tasting fantastic. So, rather than going through the whole history of the style yet again I think it’s probably more beneficial for me to go through the three and maybe give you a little primer on what they’re all about; let you know the notes that I get and maybe swap notes with you? If you feel the want/need, I can be reached at kevin@threepennytaproom.com and I’m pretty personable over the internet.

 

So, here we go, in alphabetical order:

 

Lost Nation Gose: the saltiest of the three. Has a nose of a coriander and salt marriage complete with table linens that flap in the breeze of a warm August twilight. When I say salty I mean I get a sense or feeling of sea salt about it, like an “air” of the presence of it. A medium body gives way to the refreshing sway of a tart lacto bite. Best served around a pond wearing, what I call, flip flops that you may call thongs.

 

Ritterguts Gose: one of the originals. This is basically like tasting history, like you’re being taken to school but you actually like school. The nose is mostly pear skin with a mid tongue tickle of lactic little bees, all massaging your muscle of the mouth with love. So what? I’m good with words. The saltiness here is basically like you know that the water source has the mineral character that reminds you of running in the Tatras Mountains of Northern Slovakia where you stopped at a bar in the middle of seemingly no where and all they had was mineral water instead of tap water and you drank mineral water for the first time and you liked it.

 

To-Øl Gose North: the thing that plays the biggest part here is the adjuncts. Instead of the coriander and salt (either instead of or in conjunction with) the quince and sea buckthorn are what stick out. Mostly because the body of the beer is creamy and it kind of takes the bite out of it, leaving the sweet/tart of the quince and the TART of the sea buckthorn. I have this weird remembrance or essence of concord grape skins out of a sandwich bag when I drink this beer.

 

 

So that’s how I drink beer.

 

 

Which is also why I just gave up drinking beer. I think too much about it. So, whenever you see me drinking beer, I’m usually thinking about the beer that I’m drinking. Trust me, it’s more a curse than a blessing. That’s probably why I drink so much water.

 

 

 

 

 

That’s all the news that’s fit to read on a screen by someone who isn’t you.

 

 

Cheers friends,

 

 

 

km

 

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