Green Flash Barleywine

I’m renting this wonderful little place on a corner lot … on an island.  Think about that for a second.  A corner lot on an island.  It’s where the beach turns a corner.

On the very corner of this island is another little island, just big enough for a medium sized tree and a hammock.  I am on that hammock.

There are no big waves on this side.  If there were, it might take me out.  But it’s nice and calm, and instead of booming and hissing, the water here is calm and makes little wet lapping sounds.  In the distant there’s the occasional cry of a seagull, about once every 92 seconds, like clockwork.

Popping off the cap with the opener on my key chain, I relax here, taking in this calm Zen moment in the whirlwind of my life, and take a deep sniff of the Green Flash Barleywine.

Nothing.  I can hardly smell anything.  I don’t know if that’s because of this brew, or if it has something to do with the functioning of my nose at this moment.  (Or should I say, non-functioning?)

I take a deep breath, clear my mind, and raise the heavy bottle to my lips.  The first sip is wonderfully malty – it tastes of toasty malt, very much like a biscuit, all swallowed up in a wave of tingly bubbles.  Next is a passage of a vodka, alcohol taste, something to let me know this brew means serious business.  Then again, this is barleywine – if it didn’t have a serious alcohol punch, there’d be something wrong with it.

After that, it finishes with a nice rising tide of hoppy bitterness.  Very good.  Indeed, it’s delicious.  And it’s perfect for enjoying on a hammock on the sea shore.

I’d give this a decent 6 on the Holy Grail scale and proclaim it an official groovy brew.

This review transcribed from handwritten notes taken in 2009.