Thursday, February 28, 2013

Everyone Loves Big Cans

I'm still basking in the after glow of my recent visit to Moat Mountain Smokehouse and Brewery - the food, the beer, the tour, meeting Scottie.  No offense to Scottie, but especially the beer.

While sitting around glowing, Moat Mountain memories dancing around my head and whatnot, I recalled an incident that happened just over one year ago. That's right!  A Moat Mountain incident!  Of nearly epic proportions.  At least it seemed that way at the time.  Fear not, I've recovered fully.

This is what happened:

I was busting into the last can of Iron Mike's that I'd procured from the Smokehouse during my last visit. I'd secreted it away but couldn't hold out any longer to taste the pale ale goodness.  

The can was frosty cold, dripping with condensation.  I was fairly drooling in anticipation; not a pretty sight but true.  I popped the tab.  No whoosh of escaping gasses. 

Huh, what's up with that?  I thought as I wiped a dribble of saliva from my chin. 

I grabbed a glass that I had chilling in the freezer in preparation for this very moment.

I poured.  What's this?  I rubbed my eyes to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. What sluiced from the can was not the honey amber colored liquid I was so eagerly expecting.  Nay, it was clear, colorless. 

Wait . . . what??

Now that is what you call a pale ale.  I thought to myself.

Uh, hello!? How could I joke at a time like this!  

I sniffed the glass.  Nothing. No sweet malty aroma.  No sharp tang of hops. Not a flippin' thing!

What's this?  Something was very very wrong.

My precious Iron Mike's Pale Ale was nothing but water.  How could this be? 

A couple weeks later, we were seated at a table at Moat Mountain Smokehouse and Brewery enjoying a couple beers.  When suddenly, from out of no where, two cans of Iron Mike's miraculously appeared on our table.   Okay, it didn't happen quite like that.  What really happened was the bartender stopped by our table with the two cans in apology for my traumatizing experience.

Hmmm, how did he know we were there?

Whatever.  I had my beer and that's all that really matters in the end.  All's well that end's well.


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