Unremarkable beer and unforgettable beer

I’m generally a man of simple tastes.

Go into my wardrobe, and you’ll see a stack of t-shirts – a bunch of black shirts, a bunch of navy shirts, and a bunch of shirts that are barely distinguishable from black or navy. Most days, I’ll wear one of those plain t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and some plain shoes. It’s basic, and it works. Foolproof is my style… most of the time.

But that’s not my whole wardrobe. You’ll also see a button-front shirt covered in a print of Atari consoles. A grey shirt with pink paisley cuffs. A t-shirt depicting a steampunk Icarus falling from the sky. A few stand-out items, attention-grabbers, pieces worthy of comment.

I like simple and easy and repeatable a lot of the time, but I also love a bit of adventure. A risk that might dash me on the rocks, but will hopefully pay down dividends of a great evening and memorable stories.

I’m the same with my taste in beer. A lot of the time, I’m happy with a crisp pale ale, a straightforward amber ale, a smooth ESB. I’ll buy a 6-pack I don’t need to think too much about, because I know I’ll crack it open, and I’ll enjoy it from first sip to last. It’s not remarkable, but it’s reliable.

But I’m not content to just stick to these kinds of beers. I want a Red IPA that’ll roughhouse me. A Russian Imperial Stout that’ll knock my teeth out. A whiskey barrel-aged ale that makes me dream of mahogany and pipe tobacco. I like to spend the night with a beer you wouldn’t take home to meet your parents. A beer you’re still telling stories about a month down the track. Remarkable beer. Unforgettable beer.

Yesterday, I wore jeans and a black t-shirt. Today, I’m wearing jeans and a navy t-shirt. But I think tomorrow I’ll wear something exciting.