You know you’re in trouble when one of your booze columnists invites you out for a drink. You know you’re royally screwed when they want you to sample a new line of Belgian style beer they’re importing from Quebec, from a brewpub called Dieu du Ciel  — nine of them.

“Nine?” I say meekly.

“Yeah, you better not drive,” says Mike Tessier, the biggest beer freak I’ve ever met.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach all day. It alternated between excitement for drinking what promised to be delicious beer, paired with delicious cheese, and terror at how my Thursday at work would be. Memories of the two wedding receptions I attended the previous Sunday, and the damage done that following Monday still fresh and painful.

Arriving at Springbank Cheese on 14 St. N.W., I find Mike and three others (Sara, Shaun and Trevor) gathered around a counter, already swilling the first sample, mulling over cheeses to find the best pairing.

It had begun.

Things disintegrate quickly, at least for this guy. With percentages ranging from about 6 per cent and up, it’s not a surprise. Before long, Sara, one of the tasters and a vocal critic of, well, everything (unless it comes from Portland), labels me a retard and proceeds to tell me how much Fast Forward sucks.

Oh man, I have to drink more.

I’m not a big cheese guy. I like it, but some of those blue cheeses just don’t sit right. Basques de Bleu is paired with Corne du Diable (Devil’s Horn), a refreshing IPA. My description of the cheese involved the vile aftertaste one might encounter if one sampled a sweaty gym sock that had previously been used for, ahem, catching nocturnal emissions.

I stand by that judgement.

The beers, however, are delicious (and in fairness, so are most of the cheeses). Routes des Epices is a wonderful spice beer (obvious to those who speak French). It leaves a pronounced peppery aftertaste in the back of the throat and everyone agrees it should be on beer lists at Indian restaurants. The fenugreek cheese it is ultimately paired with confirms this.

Derniere Volante is another hit — a blonde ale that goes down easy and boasts full flavour. The Imperial Stout of the group — Peche Mortel — also makes sweet, sweet love to my palate and then takes the time to cuddle afterwards.

I’m sure a lot more happened, and that I could have learned about cheese and beer pairings had I retained any of the information gleaned from the cheese masters at the shop. I’m sure some of that knowledge is contained in notes I took after the gathering.

Scribbling on the c-train ride home, I feel intelligent — jotting down ideas and the experience of the evening in a whirlwind of inspiration. I congratulate myself on my genius and my writing prowess. I am the best writer in the world. People will be amazed by my prose.

I wish I could read what that genius might have said.

There’s something about booziness, intense (is that what that word is?) flavours and I think it says something about inappropriate conversations (was that referring to the gym sock?).

At least the end of the notes are clear: “Don’t know WTF by end of night. Bastard. Fun.”

Couldn’t have said it any better you genius.



Thanks to Mike, a man accustomed to drinking and writing, for providing the following run down:

Rose d’hibiscus. Paired with: Le Rustique
Blanche Paradis. Paired with Jarlsberg
Fumisterie. Paired with Miranda
Derniere Volonte. Paired with four-year-old cheddar
Routes des Epices Paired with Sylvan Star Fenugreek (this is an Alberta cheese) 
Corne du Diable. Paired with Bleu des Basques
Rigor Mortis. Paired with Morbier
Peche Mortel. Paired with Rochefort Vintage