Rummaging through my personal Beeradise, I sought to excavate a treat from there rather than my quotidian chiller. So glad neither it nor I perished last week. I greedily emerged with a 12 oz bottle of New Glarus’ Imperial Saison from their Unplugged Series. It was my lone bottle from a one-off batch, meaning, if I loved it (and I did), I’d never get to taste it again.
There’s something really wonderful about that.
Increasingly, as specialty beers develop rabid followings, the brewers seek to limit the number of customers who can buy said brands. One extreme example is when Three Floyds hosts Dark Lord Day, wherein fans camp out just for the opportunity to buy up to four bottles. Fifty/Fifty has taken to selling Eclipse futures. Even a beer on one had ever heard of before, Oakshire’s 120 cases of Hellshire, disappeared lickety-split.
Putting aside amassing such rarities for the sake of trading for equally unobtainable brews, isn’t there something just, well, wrong about bogarting beer? Understandably, if it is a beer you absolutely love, you’d love to enjoy it again. At the same time, brewers keep making more beer so there’s no danger of you ever running dry.
Finishing up my Imperial Saison, I wasn’t just excited that I got to taste it, but I felt downright philanthropic from not hogging more than my fair share of this limited release so that others could delight in it as well. If you’re one of the folks with, say, a lofty stash of The Bruery’s Black Tuesday or Midnight Sun’s M, hath ye no sense of shame?
