AboutScott Davidson, Author at PorchDrinking.com – Page 2 of 2
I am not a fan of Market Street.
Chalk it up to too many nights downtown where one of my friends convinced me to go to the latest trendy club and by the end of the night, I have spent too much money on drinks, got mean mugged by a ton of bros, and had multiple women literally look through me on the dance floor. Short, glasses, and a beer belly doesn’t attract women as well as every romantic movie I have ever seen where the awkward guy can steal five minutes of intelligent conversation with the woman to eventually convince her that he is funny, sexy, and charming. Nope. I’m the guy that hangs out at breweries off Broadway or tap houses off Blake and avoids downtown.
I arrived around 6:30pm and parked in the lot down the street for $10, then walked a few blocks to preview the upcoming Oskar Blues LoDo (downtown) location. This is Oskar Blues’ second foray into downtown Denver, since first planting their CHUBurger flag in RiNo last year. Located in what formerly housed Crocs, an Ohio State alumni sports bar, the bar bookends a set of narrow brick buildings that include Two Fisted Mario’s Pizza and Double Daughters. This isn’t the part of town I typically frequent, but neither was RiNo three years ago.
Black Friday is the yearly celebration of corporate greed and gluttony, known for stampeding families sharing in the time honored tradition of punching their way out of a Walmart with the last Tickle-Me-Elmo, or whatever kids scream about these days. In the beer world, it’s a day dedicated to bottle chasing AB-InBEV Imperial Stouts, or as anyone that has ever worked at a liquor store calls it: “No, we don’t have any!” This year, Station 26 Brewing Company set out to change that in a very big way with their Inaugural Black Friday Invitational. (All photos captured by Dustin Hall, the incredibly talented, and brilliant, man behind the Brewtography Project.)
Ursula Brewery in Aurora, Colorado released “PB&J Porter” last year in March, then it won a gold medal at the Colorado State Fair, so they re-brewed it and called it “Crustless”. Skip to October, Imperial Crustless was brewed, they sold some shirts, glasses, lunch boxes, and a little PB&J sandwich as a garnish.
Every year, more and more sinners are born.
They are conceived in the darkest part of hell, raised by the devil himself, and born into our world loving that which is most foul: Pumpkin Beer.
It’s that time of year again, when brewers start brewing harvest beers. No, it’s not pumpkin season. It’s hop season!
While pumpkin beers are brewed earlier and earlier every year… and I have already seen a few Oktoberfest beers, I refuse to buy either until I brew a wet hop beer. It has become a tradition for me since I was first introduced to the idea of wet hopping a beer at Voss Farms in 2013.
Recent poll shows that men love lagers, while women enjoy more complex ales, leaving retailers with a decision to make.
Next time you are at the bar, take a look around at what the men are drinking. Research suggests that most men will be drinking the same beer: An amber lager.
Image from Eckraus.com.
She looks at him and raises the bottle to her lips. After taking a sip, she slowly lowers the beer in disbelief.
“You brewed this?” she asks.
“I did.” he replies with a grin. She sets the beer down and moves closer to him. He grabs her by the waist and they embrace in a passionate kiss.
“Shit!” I exclaim as the water overflows and my daydreaming fades away.
I sanitize the last bottle and place it on my bottling tree to dry. I’m almost ready to bottle two cases. I have already spent an hour preparing everything. My back hurts, my fingers are pruned, and I smell. Cleaning sucks. It’s not sexy, or romantic, or even mildly entertaining. It’s work.
Raise a glass, drink a beer, and kiss, it’s National Homebrew Day! I know that sounds odd, so let me explain.
In 1988, Congress declared May 7 as National Homebrew Day. So to celebrate, homebrewers from around the world get together every …
I remember my first beer. I dumped it down the drain.
I brewed my first beer as a way to deal with something extremely personal. Growing up in Aurora and becoming involved in the aftermath of the theatre shooting, I needed …
I’m hesitant to write this, but in order to accurately tell his story, I have to tell mine.
I grew up in Aurora, Colorado, I was born and raised here, and I graduated with the same kids I met on the first day of school. Our city is a large-small town, meaning that everyone knows everyone. Even when I moved to college eight hours away in Durango; Aurora came with me.
On July 20th 2012 at 7:00 am I woke up and checked my phone to a report that a gunman had killed 12 people the night before. My heart sank. The shooting happened at Century 16, a theater I had gone to since the day it was built. I knew exactly where theater nine was. I could see it in my head. I immediately responded like most would, by scanning the internet for details about what had happened. The media was reporting that someone had opened fire, people were dead, and there weren’t a lot of details as to why. Soon more information came out and it all clicked. This was an attack on Aurora. This was an attack on my neighborhood, my high school, and my friends.