ABV: 6.8% |  IBU: 75

In high school, a party was a form of subversion, a rebellion, it was when you began to test the limits. It had it’s moments. The college party was more a celebration of freedom (see “Stair Diving” from 1984’s Revenge of the Nerds), and more testing of limits, but without the threat (or thrill?) of getting caught, it was merely a party for party’s sake.

And then you age, you evolve, and so do parties. The party dial doesn’t quite go up to eleven anymore, as you go from making laps around a crowded barroom to fielding dinner party invites. Yes, at some point, someone tacks on “dinner” to the word “party.” Particular attention is paid to food. First, there’s the little food you eat before the big food—the appetizers, and this is where you learn that cheese is not just meant to be grilled between two pieces of bread. Raw broccoli makes an appearance. There are olives. And then the little food is followed by the big food that you consume while sitting around a table with other couples. So not only has a “party” become a “dinner party,” but somewhere along the line, people have paired off. Marriage is no longer distant ship-smoke on the horizon, but a towering barge that throws tall curls of white water over your doorstep. And now it’s a couples dinner party.

Somehow, you come to enjoy this, it’s true. But here’s the thing about hosting adult parties. People bring you stuff. Somewhere along the way, it became rude to just show up to someone’s house, having been invited, empty-handed. You are required to bring something. And if this annoys you, you aren’t the first person. Just consult George Costanza, who asks the following question when Elaine says they need to get a bottle of wine before showing up to a dinner party: “Just going there, because I’m invited, that’s rude?” He has a point, but I digress.

True story: my wife and I had a dinner party recently and people brought stuff. One couple, let’s call them Mark and Lanie, brought beer. Good. Beer. And, so, fellow quaffers, I introduce to you to Interrogation, a 6.8% coffee milk stout from Scofflaw Brewing Co., a newcomer on the Atlanta craft beer scene.

This dark beer pours black in the glass with a light, tan head, and the coffee is not even a question, it’s right there in the aroma, with some nice malts lurking behind it. The taste, therefore, is not surprising: Coffee up front, with some dark chocolate and vanilla notes, and lifting the tail end a bit is a nice, dark malty finish. This is not a heavy, syrupy stout, certainly not a one-and-done kind of a beer.

Scofflaw’s tap room, only open since September 2016, is a busy place, and the brewery has enjoyed success out of the gate. Faithful listeners of Tim Dennis and Aaron Williams, the voices of Atlanta’s Beer Guys Radio, voted Scofflaw the best brewery debut of 2016, and Basement, Scofflaw’s IPA, picked up second place in the category of Georgia’s Best IPA of 2016. 

I quoted George Costanza earlier in a scene from “The Dinner Party,” the 13th episode from Seinfeld’s fifth season (I may be approaching the hallowed halls of beer-nerdom, but my Seinfeld obsession knows no bounds). In it, he complains about the custom of showing up to a party with a bottle of wine. I agree, folks. Pick up a six pack instead. Take it up a notch, like Mark and Lanie, and bring something from Scofflaw—the effort will not go unnoticed. Trust me.

Cheers.

P.S. Thanks to Mark and Lanie for the beer (Yes, that’s their real names) and to Pink Floyd for the ship-smoke line. I totally lifted that.

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