Last night I treated myself to a night out. You know, hang out with the boys, enjoy a few brews, and talk about women, sports and politics. On such occasions I usually enjoy a few Guinnesses (Guinni?) or Sierra Nevada PAs, with a little alcoholic sucker punch like Orval or Aventinus thrown in for good measure. Tasty. Such nights are great but come with a price. At some time during the night the aforementioned brews - by this time tossed around for a bit with each other and the remnants of the evening's meal - are well into a process that I think of as "secondary fermentation".
Now, anyone familiar with the "primary" fermentation process understands that gasses are a natural by-product. These gasses have a somewhat pleasant aroma, much like the end product itself. "Secondary" fermentation, especially of such dark, meaty and powerful brews, produces gasses of a much different nature altogether. It is much akin to a wedding reception. You mix together seemingly harmless ingredients – heavy, rich beer and dinner on the one hand and single guys, still-single-incredibly- envious-on-the-prowl women and copious amounts of alcohol on the other – stir, and voila! A vile, odious and irreversible end result that causes almost immediate regret upon the next morn’s awakening.
In my case I awoke to a dense fog and an empty bed – the missus had fled sometime during the night. Temperatures outside made the drive to work a twenty minute exercise in oxygen deprivation. Productivity at my end of the office has been reduced to near zero – coworkers are using any excuse to be anywhere else.
Damn – what a great night!
Now, anyone familiar with the "primary" fermentation process understands that gasses are a natural by-product. These gasses have a somewhat pleasant aroma, much like the end product itself. "Secondary" fermentation, especially of such dark, meaty and powerful brews, produces gasses of a much different nature altogether. It is much akin to a wedding reception. You mix together seemingly harmless ingredients – heavy, rich beer and dinner on the one hand and single guys, still-single-incredibly- envious-on-the-prowl women and copious amounts of alcohol on the other – stir, and voila! A vile, odious and irreversible end result that causes almost immediate regret upon the next morn’s awakening.
In my case I awoke to a dense fog and an empty bed – the missus had fled sometime during the night. Temperatures outside made the drive to work a twenty minute exercise in oxygen deprivation. Productivity at my end of the office has been reduced to near zero – coworkers are using any excuse to be anywhere else.
Damn – what a great night!
1 comment:
Quality beer does the same thing to me and I think it is reflective of my dubious genetic heritage. Probably that viking rapist of long ago. Or, simply multi-generational white trash breeding. Sure can break up a card game.
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