Ghana, a small nation nestled between the Ivory Coast and Togo, offers a thriving nightlife and delicious, delirious drinks, but you have to know where to go. Luckily, I was visiting my American friend and her Ghanaian husband, who is a prominent member of the Ga tribe, in the capital city of Accra. He knew the town like a priest knows the Bible, and I was promised a fun night out.

Little did I know how it would end.

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 I stole the pictures for this edition from my own articles because I was too busy judging, organizing and freaking out from time to time, to take pictures… as you shall soon read, hopefully laugh about, and wonder, “How did he get himself into THIS mess?” Story of my life. It’s a good story… mostly.

 No way, not even on the planet Gorforbia: the only place in the known universe where things as weird as what’s happened in my own life, can this year’s competition have gotten more “Odd.” Match name of the competition I created, much? Well, I admit, last year’s was weird too. I mean, almost eaten by a bear? Come on! Thank Modort, the jelly based deity worshiped on Gorforbia, I hadn’t had any Gorfrorbian mustard in my tent. I hear Adirondack bears can’t resist that spicy condiment. Makes it smell like Taylor Swift-look alike, a well known Adirondack bear delicacy.

 Anywhosie, the great thing about the 2015 OFBB, compared to the 2014 Old Forge Old Ale (last year’s name), is I have a lot of organizing advice and notes to pass on to those interested in running very small competitions. “Why?” Because, I swear, everything went wrong. And, being a big believer in small, specialized, competitions, as well as big ones, I’m sure someone out there might be able to use my experience to help run theirs.
 Last year our entries were about 25: depends on how you count the extra bottle someone sent us that was packed, and entered, as if it were as different entry. Yet it had the same name, same brewer and, when sampled, we determined had to be the same entry… a judgement call the brewer never disputed after post competition contact. I haven’t counted this years yet: all the information I need is about 10 miles away and my place has no roads going to it. I believe we had about 40. We almost doubled the entry level. Continue reading “A Beer Judge’s Diary: Old Forge BIG Beer and Odd Ale Competition”

Written by Ken Carman

 I have never, ever, canned out on a homebrew competition, and I am glad to have made this one. The original set up was simple: I had drop off points in Erie and Buffalo for The Old Forge BIG Beer and I would use that as an excuse to do what I really love to do: judge. Immediately it started to fall apart: no entries in Erie and, at the same time, I found out my friend Dave, near Rochester, couldn’t let me crash on his couch.
 Thankfully my friend, ex-captain of the Starship Quandary in the Wort galaxy and fellow judge, Tim Belczak, plus his, oh, so patient wife Cheryl, allowed me to crash there two nights. They even introduced me to their two in house gremlins: Dax and Drew… who look a lot better, and nothing like, the picture to your right from Gremlins 2. But they were as entertaining, as energetic: in far better, and nicer, ways. We didn’t even have to get those gremlins wet, or wait until after midnight, for them to be entertaining.
 If you haven’t seen the movies, never mind. But if you haven’t seen the sequel do track it down. Nothing like a herd (Herd? Bunch? A… MURDER???) of gremlins doing a Busby Berkeley routine while singing New York, New York in Grand Central Station.
 Drew and Dax were the life of the party. Smart kids. Soon mom and dad will go, “Huh? What?” I’m betting Dax, or Drew, will be a Grand Master before you, or me, Tim. (Safe bet with me!) Continue reading “A Beer Judge’s Diary: HAZtoberfest”