How Rogue Ales Temporarily Cured Me of Swearing
“Can I try the Hazelnut Brown Nectar?” I asked the hairy, inked man behind the bar at Rogue Ales Public House in Porland.
At least that’s what I thought I said. Maybe I threw him some accidental attitude after ramming through a citrusy lemongrass beer at Bridgeport Brewing Company just before. Fine, I also lapped up an amber brew.
Rogue casts an intimidating presence in DC booze stores. I most often spy the 22-oz. bottles; those bottles bully drinkers to down much beer in one sitting, so I was pretty pumped to be able to try a few pints at one of its many Oregon pubs. I specifically asked the bartender for beers that I can’t find across the country.
Right before the man behind the bar turned to pour me a sample of the hazelnut brew, he sent me a quick stare. “I think they call it Nutella where you live.”
“Fuck you,” I shouted back. “We’re not fucking Europe.”
He smiled back, in what I like to think was an appreciation for my East Coast paradigm. Along with the hazelnut taste, he poured me a Double Chocolate Stout.
With the confidence of an assertion, not a suggestion, he told me to order a “Snickers” – the combination of the Double Chocolate Stout and the Hazelnut Brown Nectar.
The end result was a creamy, thick beer, offering hints of bitter coffee, smooth nuts and a chance to stop cursing and sip an excellent drink.
portland <3
Pacific Northwest drinking, represent! Rogue Chocolate was one of the first beers I tried (underage! Don’t tell) on a camping trip in Oregon when I was like 16. I remember thinking it was so cool because it was “flavored.” I still get the Hazelnut Brown sometimes.
The guy’s name is mike!