Beer dealers, legendary brews, Scotch Ale, whatnot

Some people have drug dealers. I have a beer dealer.

His name is Jeremy. You can read his weekly column in the "Opinion" tab on the CWU Observer Web site (of which I am the Scene Editor, if you care to know) - observer.cwu.edu.

I'm not the only one I know with a beer dealer. Beer dealers are required for those who enjoy a particular non-mass-produced beer that is not available in their area. You need a beer dealer to obtain what I call a "legendary brew" - a beer that you've only had a small number of times in your life, due to its inaccessibility - and you spend your life pining for it.

I can safely call Fat Scotch Ale a legendary brew. Part of the legend is the fact that neither I, nor you, can buy it anywhere outside of the Silver City Brewery in Silverdale, Wash. Anytime I've had this beer, it's been through a dealer. One of my dad's coworkers was my first dealer. Jeremy, who lives near the brewery, is my new dealer.

When I first tried this beer about two and a half years ago, I loudly proclaimed that this was not only the best beer I ever had, but probably the best beer I would ever have. I honestly felt like my tastebuds were reconfigured, and that I could never enjoy a beer the same way after being by Fat Scotch Ale.


Fat Scotch Ale, as indicated by its somewhat plain and uninteresting name, is a scotch ale. Scotch ales are easily my favorite beer.

Scotch ales are also referred to as "Wee Heavies," in beer-nerd circles. As one perceptive reader might deduce, this is because scotch ales are a wee heavy. They are designed to contain at least 7 percent awesomeness-by-volume (ABV), and contain an obscene amount of sweet, nutty malt flavor.

Fat Scotch Ale is the strongest scotch ale I've ever had (9.2 percent ABV) - the amazing part? You can't even taste the alcoholic bite. This means that if you consume the whole bottle (which is available in 22 oz. only), you might as well relax and forget about driving anywhere, unless you enjoy careening off the road, or unless you're Paul Bunyan. It's dangerous.

Is Fat Scotch Ale still my favorite beer, after being reunited at last, and becoming reacquainted?

I hate to sound unromantic, but Fat Scotch Ale no longer holds the title for me. My taste buds have been chopped and screwed after two years of Imperial IPAs, barleywines, doppelbocks and PBR. They've moved on. They've met others that have done things that Fat Scotch Ale would never dream of doing to them. No offense, Ms. Fat, I'm at a different, kinkier place in my life.

This is not to say I didn't enjoy this brew, or that it's not easily in my top 10. It's got an overwhelming amount of malty sweetness, but the brewers at Silver Creek somehow managed to keep the mouthfeel quite light. It's a beer for a quiet evening at home, or at a loud party with friends.

Fat Scotch Ale is versatile. Its complexity makes the beer capable of attracting the most soulless dispicable beer snobs (it has an A-rating on beeradvocate.com, natch) but it's also embraced by a few of my hop-hating friends who like their beer to taste "good," whatever that means.

One great thing about Fat Scotch Ale is that it's local. If you a self-proclaimed "person who is a lover of beer" you must make an effort to visit all the breweries in your vicinity. Not only are you supporting a burgeoning industry and your local economy, you are much more likely to be able to try a more creative - sometimes downright insane - brew that the mass-beer-producers would be to scared to try, for fear of low profit. Your hamburger connisseour, for example, would probably tell you that his favorite burger is created in a tiny, hole-in-the-wall dive, not at Burger King. Why should your favorite beer be made by a food conglomorate in Wisconsin? Go local!

It's a big world of local breweries, especially in Washington state. But this is where the "beer dealer" comes in. Enjoy your wild selves.