This series of posts is dedicated to the many, many six packs, pony kegs and pints that have sauntered into my life at one point or another.

burial stout

Although it wasn’t necessarily all that great for either my waistline or my wallet, I greatly enjoyed my time as a beer drinker in Asheville, North Carolina. During the eight years or so that I lived there, the craft beer scene expanded from a boomlet to a full-on craze. I naturally had my favorites, and it was difficult to bid them farewell when I moved back to the frigid, friendly North. While I can watch the turmoil that occasional engulfs the Asheville beer scene from a distance, I don’t often get to down a geographically-appropriate beverage when I do so.

But sometimes people visit. And they come bearing gifts.

By the time we left, I think it was generally understood that Burial Beer Co. was making a serious claim on being the best brewery in town. It seems that reputation has only grown. Our recent visitors brought along a few cans of evidence.

The temptation is to squirrel these happy concoctions away, saving them like treasure. That, however, is not what they’re for. As I sat back this weekend, savoring a Tin Cup Camp Stout as reward for some minor feat, I was reminded of why there’s no real reason to wait. Instead, drink it if you got seems a fine credo. Patience isn’t always a virtue.

Previous entries in this series can be found by clicking on the “Beers I Have Known” tag.

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