The Sarge brewed what I guess I’ll call a Holiday Ale if I must classify it. The beer is spicy, rich and bursting with a crisp tartness supplied by copius additions of fresh and dried cranberries. A lovely amber hue.

My beer is a Scotch Ale and, if I may be so bold, manages to both cleave faithfully to its style while boasting notes of honey, spice and a secret hobo twist I’ll never reveal. Oh… OK… the secret ingredient is… is… RIGHT BEHIND YOU! AAUUGH!!!!! GLAUAWAUGH!!!!!

*Except that “you” means “me.”

That’s Steve Raub, who co-owns Eagle Rock Brewery with his son, Jeremy. The gentlemen were kind enough to show Mrs. Beer and myself around for a while on Saturday.

It was very cool to see the place in an unfinished state and it will be great (and informative, which is good news for you, Beer Reader!) to watch it go from warehouse to a bunch of brew equipment on a floor to a functioning, beer factory*! The picture above is a bit older, as the brew kettle now sits in the dead center of the floor. Here’s a shot of the mighty kettle:

The story of Eagle Rock Brewery has some pretty serendipitous moments—the Ale Smith brewery was getting a new system just as Eagle Rock was on the prowl for brewing equipment. A few more sessions of extreme cleaning and this baby will be ready to brew.

The primary fermenters are, like you’ll find in many craft breweries, from a dairy. Processing milk requires the same high standards of cleanliness as beer, so these vessels are perfect for aging of sweet, sweet brew. The large white tank on the left in the top pic is one of these fermenters, and by the time we had our tour Saturday, it had been joined by yet another—which is good, as more fermenters means more beer. Here too there was fortune afoot—the two fermenters are in fact from the same dairy, had been separated a while back, but were brought together again when the fellah who had one of them heard a brewery needed it.

We sampled a lovely sweet, slightly spicy beer the Raub’s brewed which I’d be happy to have been served at any bar. Or from my fridge. It has the qualities of a dubbel, and I think The Kolonel would be quite a fan.

I’ll be uploading pictures and hopefully some video too and plan to visit every few weeks and watch the place grow. Once it’s open… I will be visiting much more often. Perhaps they will provide me my own special mug and a cot. Or maybe a hammock.

* I believe these are also, at times, referred to as “breweries.”

That’s right, we brewed us another Belgian Wit, and this one’s going to rule. It’s been a brewy week, beervolk. The Mrs and I bottled our Blackberry Wheat two nights ago, and then last night we brewed us some Belgian Wit, baby! We’re talkin’ sweet dried orange peel, cloves, cinnamon, fresh squeezed tangerine juice and 4 other flavor ingredients that are SECRET… and no, I don’t mean water, hops, grains and yeast. Those are not the secrets. So wait there… on the very edge of your chair… whimpering and hoping no one notices you forgot to put on deodorant (again) and we’ll see you in, oh, 4 weeks.

*or so we hope… more on that in uh… a month.

We had a lot of folks over on Sunday, friends, including Kolonel Tripel, Brigadier Bock, Admiral Ale, Sergeant Stout and the seldom-heard from Herr Hefeweizen (at least he brought Hefeweizen) and a bevy of other folk. Much food, MUCH drink, and—of course—much good beer. Until the brew ran out. We quickly sent a detachment for more brau, and they admirably came back with 3 twelve packs. One Sam Light. Fine indeed. One Guinness. No prob there. And the third… as you’ve likely guessed… MILLER CHILL! Chelada Style Ureabrau.

Now I bashfully admit this is not the first time the Cap’n had kicked back a MILLER CHILL Chelada Style Urinebrau but I have an excuse—the first time I bought it, marketing and package design sucked me in, and I was hoping for a taste of highschool—er, college—with a beer that was surely reminiscent of Tequiza. Which sucked too, but I was a young, fool-palate-having man. And… I mean: TEQUIZA!

So this beer tastes like very light lager with basically no flavor but salt. And I guess a little artificial-ish lime. But really it just tastes kinda like High Life Lite with salt in it. Salt is fine around the rim of my margarita or in my tomato bisque soup, but salt is not OK in a beer. Ever. Any beer. It is counter-flavor-productive to the Nth* degree, in fact! It’s gross, man! Gross. That, and aside from the salt and slight-fake-lime tastes there is no discernable BEERNESS here… I got no malt… I got NO hops… I got nothing. I don’t know what wood-toothed, pasty-cheeked stuffed suit thought up MILLER CHILL Chelada Style Saltcrapbeer but I will BET you it was some ass-planked, glass-eyed, wool-panted corporate type, not a charismatic, proud,Viking home brewer like someone I know.

And what the HELL does “Chelada” mean, anyway?! According to their website, the word “translates loosely as ‘Cold One.’” But I have a feeling that if you really translated it accurately into English, it would mean something more like “Hwarfshnik.” Or maybe “Golptonce.” Not. Real. Words.

And man, I like Miller Lite. I make no Ifs Ands or Buts about it—not a hell of a lot of flavor, but the bit of malt there is and the light hop finish is very refreshing; light but tasty. This? The MILLER CHILL Chelada Style Stankass should A) not exist, and B) pass me a sandwich. I love sandwiches.

*Nth here = 3rd. For some reason.

or if you’re like me, regular braus, as I find green beer rather off-putting. I know it’s merely food dye, but still, please keep that stuff away from my fine beers. OK. Yeah. You can put it in the whiskey.

And remember to hoist one to the original OG…

Mr. NoSnakes himself, Father Brau, St. Pat-tothe-Rick! Prost er Cheers! Hoy!