Last night, a great friend of mine, a winemaker and bon vivant and terribly well-traveled academic type, sent me a Facebook message that said, “I’m drinking a Deschutes Abyss. I don’t know what this stuff is but it’s not beer.” I didn’t even ask if he liked it. That would have been inviting one of those fascinating but very time-consuming dialogues that he and I have had periodically, ever since I started working in his Bainbridge Island, Washington, wine shop, back in the fall of 1998.I didn’t have time to discuss it but I know, beyond doubt, that his very acute palate picked up on one aspect of this fascinating, paradigm-altering ale that has had me mesmerized ever since that first vintage, in 2006: complexity.
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