Enough about reflections and the year that was. Live in the now, seize the day — it’s the 21st of January and I haven’t worked out once. Thank God I didn’t make that my unattainable New Year’s resolution. Sorry if you did.
We’ve set our sights on more practicable goals, and I know what you’re thinking right now, is ‘practicable’ even a word? To which I reply, yes, I looked it up in an online dictionary because I don’t think anyone I know even has a hard copy of one of those anymore, except maybe my grandmother, and she lives in Vancouver. But let’s get back to the point.
I was talking about goals, I believe. Things that we say we’re gonna try to do, and sometimes actually get around to doing. Things that we deem worth doing, because they will be awesome. And awesome updates I can provide for you today. I promise this is not a riddle.
Several weeks ago we contacted the country of Portugal, the president himself if I’m not mistaken, Aníbal Cavaco Silva, and asked him if he had any barrels kicking around that his people didn’t need anymore. Of course, as the fun-loving man he is, Anibal kindly offered us cognac and port barrels.
"But how big, approximately, are the barrels?" asked Mike and Luke.
"Approximately," thought Aníbal, "well, like this," and he texted us a couple pics on his phone.
We admitted that, not having much reference for his wing span, we still needed some specifics. Do you have a better picture? He then sent us this one,
before apologizing saying that it wasn’t about the barrels, he had meant to send that one to his wife.
"Look, how about you just tell us in liters how big they are," we finally pleaded.
"Oh, like, about 200-320L, they vary, as they’re all handmade."
So in the end we said yes, ordered a whole smack of them, and decided on the coldest day in ages to fill them on our frigid patio. The fermenting quad went in to the port barrels, and the imperial stout into the cognac. The remaining stout will be divided into casks, to which we’ll inevitably add strange fruits and herbs and release on Sunday (snack and cask!) nights each week.
And if you’re lucky, you can come by our patio and chip off a bit of the frozen stout that remains on the concrete to get a taste of what’s to come! We can’t attest to much carbonation, however.
Muito obrigado Portugal!