I arrived at BadPickleGirl's house promptly at 8:45. This was quite an amazing feat because I was sure I was lost. I'd written down directions, and at one point I'd written one-tenth mile. This was clearly an error as the actual distance was a thousaand million bazillion miles.
I did my best to look casual as I walked up to the door. I guess I did okay because she waved me in.
After a few niceties, we got down to business.
(bottle) Very dark, almost black. A smallish head that faded almost instantly. It had a very dry aroma and flavor. More like wood than the fruit I'd been expecting. A very good beer though. It certainly didn't taste like it was 10.5% ABV.BadPickleGirl had chosen that bottle to be first because of the bottle. That's the same reason I'd bought the beer in the first place. It's a very attractive bottle which has defied all attempts to be photographed.
The next bottle was another new one for me:
(bottle) Slightly hazy orange. Quite fizzy in both aroma and flavor. Hints of apples, expected for the style, but the fizz was the predominate characteristic. Reminiscent of champagne. Good, but not great.Of the four bottles I'd brought with me, three were strangers. I had, however, brought one ringer. A beer that I discovered a few weeks ago but one that I hadn't gotten around to reviewing yet. I think that, by the time the Duinen was gone, BadPickleGirl and I both knew that the third bottle would be the last. So I chose the one that I knew was yummy.
(bottle) Cloudy dark red. An intense fruit aroma, with a mixture of dark cherries and apples and citrus. Easily one of the best beers I've ever had. Fucking yummy.As it turned out, we didn't finish that bottle. We got about halfway through it and BadPickleGirl moved over to her other couch and stretched out. I believe that her exact words were, "That last beer sent me into Led Zeppelin oblivion."
Well, seeing her stretched out on the couch threatened to sent me into another sort of oblivion. So there.
But I'm a gentleman, so instead of sitting and staring, I spent some time trying to cram the cork back into that last bottle, then I put it in her fridge. Then I gave BadPickleGirl a hug, thanked her for the lovely evening, and came home at about 1:00.
This morning, RockGirl put bait on her breath and sent me an How was the date? email. My response, in part, was as follows:
There was no slaking. We just sat and talked and drank some bottles of Belgian beers. I got to know her a little better, which is what I really wanted to do. She's nice.