Mobcraft’s Barrel Aged Laughing Clown Proves Too Good To Save
Ordinarily I am a huge proponent of basing your beer choice on historically seasonal styles or even just on the weather.
There is nothing quite like a Stout or a Dark Strong Belgian ale when the Wisconsin winter sets in. Thirty two degrees and rainy? That’s Gulden Draak weather. Likewise, I love Saisons and Harvest Ales in the fall. I’m even learning to love pumpkin Ales in October.
I’m also a huge fan of cellaring Belgian styles, stouts, and the like. Anything strong and complex enough that it is likely to age well, I’ll save it.
So my intention with this bottle of Mobcraft’s Barrel Aged Laughing Clown was to cellar it until Christmas or maybe for a blizzard in January — you know, a time when things are really dire. Yet every time I head down to my basement bar, there is the bottle of Laughing Clown, taunting me, mocking my efforts to resist the deep mahogany sweetness contained within its glass walls. Unfortunately I have the willpower of a toddler, and today I gave up my resistance.
So here I sit, in the uncanny warmth of late October, letting the creamy vanilla of Laughing Clown blend with the chocolatey tannic quality of the bourbon barrel, rolling it’s cocoa nibby sweetness around my mouth like an old man contemplating lost love: bitter sweet nostalgia in a glass. And that’s when it hits me.
See, one benefit of day-drinking is the increased likelihood of insight sneaking into the space opened up in your brain by alcohol and relaxation. In that stout-tinged moment I realize that any day is a good day for a great beer. I don’t need to wait until the perfect time, because that time might never come.
How much of my life have I spent saving up for a day that wasn’t going to come? How much time have I invested in imagining a ideal instead of embracing the real? Would another year or six months improve anything? I need, I realize, to embrace the now, the opportunity inherent in every moment.
And heck, this bottle of Laughing Clown might be gone, maybe even irreplaceable. I have to grab this moment, err glass, and savor it, not waste it waiting around.
Wow, I think, picking up the bottle, what did Mobcraft put in this beer anyway? But there are still another couple of ounces left, and who am I to waste a good beer?