29 June 2015

Beer Sadness

Yesterday, Jason and I stopped by Specs to see if they had a particular brand of beer from the Dallas region.  We had heard they delivered out this way.  Turns out, they had what we were looking for.  In an odd fluke of distribution, the beer goes from Dallas about 5 hours SW down to Houston, where there is a distributor that actually distributes out west here in El Paso (roughly 12? hours west of Houston).  If you are keeping up - that's an odd route.  Whatev's.  The beer drinker does not question.

WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN KEYED IN when the employee looks keenly at the flat of beer in the basket and says, I dont think you want this one.  Turns out it it had a hole in the top and was an empty.

We pay and head out the door and take a sort of roundabout way home.  ALL OF A SUDDEN.... there is a loud bang in the back of the 4 Runner and the sticky sweet smell of brown beer wafts to us up front.  Well crap... a beer just exploded in the back! (it's pretty loud by the way).  While we were disappointed, it still really didnt kick in just what, exactly, the possibilities of what was about to happen were.

We made one stop and opened the back to check how much of the beer might of spilled outside of the black rubber mat tray.  As soon as we touched the beer POPPOP POP POP!  I looked around expecting to see a middle eastern man on the sidewalk playing a guitar.

At that point, a writhing brown foamy geyser of beer foam rose like a chocolate milk shake Old Faithful from the floorboard and random pinpricks of beer sprayed the roof, seats, and windows.  I threw a carrhart jacket that was handy over the spouting brown whale and we looked each other with shock and sadness as a pool of brown beer slowly filled up the cargo mat tray.  After looking at it dumbly for probably a full 30 seconds, I said ,"Well, lets get this cleaned up".  I carefully pulled the mat to the edge of the rear door and, with great bit crocodile tears flowing down my cheeks, I dumped a lake of porter onto the hot El Paso asphalt.  I momentarily considered dropping to my knees and cupping my hands in a frantic effort to drink from the cascading sadness.  I felt like the kid in the Never Ending Story when his horse dies.

We drove home in silence.  I postulated that somehow there was too much carbonation and just wanted to cool the beer off before we lost anymore.  After cleaning up the trunk region of the 4Runner as best as we could and getting the beer iced down in an old cooler (I think we only lost 1 more), I dutifully set about pouring the remainder from each can and we sat  on the back porch to enjoy what was left - I think we got about 4 beers worth out of the approximately 12 we lost.

Jason messaged the company about the issue in case they were unaware.  They said it was a known issue - a filter had malfunctioned leaving more yeast than intended and, when at room temps, the yeast wakes up to have a nosh.  So - yeah - CO2.  They apologized and are sending him a shirt (even though we didnt buy it from them).

Jason left early morning and headed the 8 or so hours back to Central Texas on a couple of errands.  He just messaged me to research the "Best product to remove beer smell".  Its just like college all over.

I am left on beer sitting duty. My job is to keep the little yeasties cold until there due to be drank date.  But when I look at them there, so secure in their blanket of ice, little tops bulging ever so slightly, I feel a bit like Yosemite Sam eyeing Bugs Bunny in cauldron of hot water.