The beers of right now, ahhh! They’re so good. Watch this space for a brown ale smackdown and/or lovefest.

Point Burly Brown Ale: Not famous, I don’t think, or fancy, but this is great. Smooth and creamy and toasty, and is that a little sourness I perceive at the finish? So much the better. I’m putting this in heavy rotation.

New Belgium La Folie: In my mouth… now. Mmmmm sour sour sour. Tartest of punches in the mouth, cleanest of finishes. A brown ale got in a bar fight with some Sour Patch Kids and lost, big time. I liked this when I didn’t know sour beer was a thing and I like it now, when I have a thing for brown ales, sour ales, and sour brown ales.

Redhook Mud Slinger: I want the name of this beer to be Red Hook Mudslinger. Sadly, it is not. (The brewery isn’t in Brooklyn. Look it up. I know! I was fooled too!) Happily, that is my biggest complaint about it. A while ago at knitting, Nikii was all sadfacing about how the end of winter (otherwise much to be anticipated) means that all the winter warmers and other such seasonal dark ales will go away soon. Agreed, but Mud Slinger is a comfort in these trying times; this is Redhook’s spring seasonal and it’s a mellow, nutty-dark-chocolaty brown ale. The flavor of mud season? I don’t know, but it’s delicious and I might well stockpile some.

Leinenkugel Fireside Nut Brown: This one might be stockpile-worthy too; it’s a winter seasonal that’s still hanging around a small liquor store near me. Nut brown in this case means dark amber, not a pecan or a walnut but the skin of an almond, and the flavor, too, is on the light side for a brown ale. Sweetish and quaffable.

Samuel Smith’s Nut Brown Ale: No need to hoard this; it’s pretty ubiquitous, and now that I’ve tried it, I’m glad that’s the case. Round and solid, smooth and creamy, a comfort food among beers.

- Beer cheese soup in a bread bowl is on the menu.
- And I didn’t even order it
- because I was swayed by Brie cheese curds with blackberry jalapeno chutney. When I say curds, I mean Brie chunks the size of ice cubes, deep-fried.
- Also, beer pretzels stuffed with jalapeno cheddar.
- Plus, there was beer. I KNOW!!

We ordered a nice study in contrasts: I had a Summit Winter Ale on cask, a little mellower and woodier than its usual festive self. I was incredibly, nerdily psyched to see this on the menu. It isn’t the crazy flavor epiphany that Surly Furious on cask was for me, but still really pleasant. For my compatriot, Town Hall’s Belgian brown ale: dry, sparkly, crisp. Yeast is up front and after my Summit, it seemed very hoppy indeed. By my lights it’s a little more saison-ish than brown-ale-ish, but tastier, to me, than a proper saison. A favorable first impression, and among the other Town Hall beers and the rest of the pretty sizable tap list are plenty of things I’m excited to drink for science on future visits.

(I didn’t quite have my head around the whole deal with barrels and casks and firkins; Wikipedia on cask ale is helping me set myself straight. Briefly: a cask is a beer storage container. A firkin is a cask with a capacity of nine imperial gallons [and a cute name]; a barrel holds thirty-six. Kegs are a subset of casks; they have a delivery mechanism for nitrogen or carbon dioxide. But although “cask” is the broader term, cask ale is its own thing. Like the Summit, it’s unfiltered, unpasteurised, and lives in a cask with no added gas pressure, where it goes on fermenting and might be left for some time to mature, particularly if it’s a strong, dark beer. The end product is warmer, flatter, and maybe smoother than keg beer; depending on the particular beer and one’s preferences, this may be awesome.)

New Glarus Unplugged Old English Porter: Oh my god, this beer made me do a dance of joy. Thrilled that I have one more bottle, sad that I have ONLY one more bottle. It’s recognizable as a porter, but so sour that a warning sign was posted next to it: “This beer is SOUR!” Flavors that I don’t even ordinarily like throw a party in my mouth: black cherry, wood, kombucha — and I’m dancing despite myself. It’s really kind of like listening to Girl Talk for the first time.

Surly Furious on cask: Delight. I remembered how good Sam’s was at the Happy Gnome and jumped at the chance to order one at Ngon on the evening of the winter solstice. Grapefruity, endlessly smooth, so great, even Meghan liked it. If my girlfriend likes an IPA, then that IPA is an IPA that everyone should put in their mouth.

Lagunitas Brown Shugga: Baby’s first Lagunitas. I didn’t chill mine nearly enough the first time I drank it. Candied piney hops? No thanks. But in a frosty mug? Fresher and not too sweet. Yes, actually, I think I will, thank you.

21st Amendment Fireside Chat: Surprisingly kinda weird! I figured the brewery that knocks watermelon wheat ale out of the park could do no wrong, but I found Fireside Chat bitter and clovey.

New Glarus Raspberry Tart: Cracked on the occasion of my thirty-first birthday. Oh yum. Like their Belgian Red, sweet and tart but still recognizable as beer. I heart raspberries and the raspberry flavor here is just as real as expected. My only complaint is I’m now spoiled for Lindeman’s Framboise.

Kasteel Rouge: Wow, and this one is like a Belgian Red spiked with concentrated cherry juice. Good and sour and intensely juicy-sweet. I wasn’t sure about this at first, but it grew on me. Alternated sips with a Bell’s Best Brown Ale, while I was at it.

Dark Horse Tres Blueberry Stout: I’m into it. I think this has exactly the right amount of blueberry flavor. What I really need to do, FOR SCIENCE!, is make a clafouti or crême brûlée or something to eat alongside it.

Flying Dog Gonzo Imperial Porter: Very nice indeed, though maybe not quite as sublime out of a bottle as I remember it from a tap at the beer fest last summer. But this is nice and robust, and as it warms I detect a little bit of the sourness I adore in New Glarus’s sour porter. I have a barrel-aged version of this too! Exciting!

Summit Winter Ale: Number one with a bullet my new Summit favorite! Dark dark dark, thick creamy head, the smell of faraway woodsmoke in cold snowy air up top and creamy vanilla on the bottom with toasty malt sandwiched in between. Nice with ice cream.

And a discussion question: What do you pair with macaroni and cheese? Common Roots has had a delicious truffle mac&cheese for the past month or two. I’ve tried it with a brown ale, a cream stout, and most recently Finnegan’s Irish Amber. None objectionable, but none perfect either.

Seriously, my first impression about sums it up. Hops come first, lightly citrusy and a little bit floral, and then a lovely warm bass note of toasty malt with just a little sweetness. Delicious.

At $9 for a 22-ouncer at my local, it’s a bargain; but at 9.8% ABV you’ll want a partner unless you want to get MEGAdrunkz0rz.

Paired with a damn fine mock duck sandwich and a room full of baby punks and shouty drunk soccer moms, at the Triple Rock.

The other black and tan in a bottle I’ve had is Saranac, which didn’t do it for me quite like the Yuengling — more tan than black and with a hop flavor that was bitter but unassertive. Scanning the beeradvocate black and tan reviews I notice that Saranac comes out a little ahead of Yuengling in roughly equal numbers of reviews; I think that squares about right with my perceptions about my own palate vs. the average beer drinker’s.