I'm drinking a Founders Kentucky Breakfast Stout. Boom! That means I'm winning at life. I think. It means, at least, that "I know a guy." Or that I don't work during the day, in the traditional sense. For those of you seeking context:
Remember when you almost ran over that family of four to score Meijer's last Beanie Baby? Or that fateful Christmas Eve when you and three friends piled your money together for a Teddy Ruxpin? Or that time that I waited outside, all night, in the rain, to get opening night tickets for Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace? It's easy to laugh, but I bet you voted for someone who turned out to be a lemon, so take it easy.
If you've never boarded the hype train, Kentucky Breakfast Stout (KBS) is a hard thing to understand. KBS is a beer, manufactured by Michigan darling Founders Brewery. It's a chocolatey stout, "cave-aged in oak bourbon barrels for over an entire year." It weights in at a deceptive 11.2% ABV. That said, it's a just a beer, in the same way that The Beatles were just a band for those screaming black and white girls in the front row.
As a retailer, I have had grown men--big men--stare at me with barely suppressed homicidal intent because I didn't have their KBS. At Foods For Living, people still tell the story of how sweet Susie once tried a coveted bottle of the stuff and promptly said "Ick," before pouring it down the drain. What's notable is not that she did that--it's that people still tell the story, years later.
www.beeradvocate.com, one of the world's leading beer-ratings websites, gives KBS a 100%. (100% is the highest rating possible outside the realm of corporate goal-setting and high school sports, where giving 110% is not uncommon.) This rating is democratic: the 100% is a result of 9,395 separate votes, as of presstime. It's hard to think of anything more universally supported by such a volatile demographic. This puts KBS in a very elite category, in which the late Saddam Hussein may be the only other contender.
It's difficult to overstate KBS hype. Anywhere craft beer is sold, you're likely to see a handwritten list of thirty or so names dangling from some beleaguered manager's desk. One, or two, or perhaps three of these names will be savoring a KBS come launch week. How much KBS is allotted to a certain retail outlet is the result of a complex equation involving Michigan's three-tier distribution system, vendor-retailer relationships, and probably something involving chaos theory.
The KBS allotment for a particular store (or bar) is a function of how much business that store (or bar) does with the distributor in question generally, or of how much the distributor's rep plays golf with that store's beer buyer, or both. Foods For Living, and other such outlets, would simply skirt this bizarre byzantine system by going directly to the brewery, if that hadn't been declared explicitly illegal after Prohibition. If all this is making your head spin, you're not alone, although--to be honest--I assumed it was just the KBS, in my case.
People I know have followed the relevant delivery truck from store to store, hoping to capitalize on the few designated "first-come, first-served" KBS bottles available. This sort of behavior all but guarantees that those only casually interested in trying KBS will simply not be able to do so. This is a reasonable barrier for entry for the Shaolin temple, or the navy SEALS, but for a beer?
Maybe you'd rather just go straight to the source, skipping the labyrinth of middlemen. Downtown Grand Rapids is a place of wonder, so why not stop by Founders and grab a pint right out of the barrel?
Well, you might want to book a reservation, or get a ticket. See, Founders tries to offer a little hometown wink wink nudge nudge to the locals, culminating in KBS Week (Match 9-14). The beer doesn't officially release to the public until Match 30th. Unless you live in Michigan! Oh my gosh, KBS is available right now, throughout Michigan! (I just flipped my coffee table over. Not really).
Now, I'm a bit of a skeptic when it comes to gastronomical hype. When a restaurant has a two month reservation wait, I usually end up opting for the local Thai option instead. But KBS exists in a sort of gray area between true Epicureanism and...Armchair Epicureanism. Beer consumption shares this sort of opportunity with poker, PC gaming, and air hockey. If you're a tennis fan, there's zero chance you'll be able to book a match against Vanessa Williams. But if you're an air hockey enthusiast (like me), playing in the US Open is a very real option, to which I can attest. A best-of-the-best wine is out of the average Jane's price range, if you can even find it. But a best-of-the-best beer is being aged in bourbon barrels in some secret catacombs beneath Grand Rapids, and it's only $9.00 for a snifter. As long as you know a guy. So perhaps KBS is a way for Joe Six-pack to indulge in beverage elitism, without trips to Napa Valley. (As long as Joe Six-pack doesn't expect a literal six-pack of KBS, which is not a thing.)
Hype or not, KBS is delicious, and it's something to do in March in Michigan besides be cold and not care about basketball at all (if you're me). But beware, Epicurean adventurers: when your entire to-do list for the day is a craft beer, an emptiness of spirit may accompany an emptiness of glass. I'm uniquely qualified to say so, having reached the bottom of my KBS and the bottom of these reflections in perfect synchronicity.
www.beeradvocate.com, one of the world's leading beer-ratings websites, gives KBS a 100%. (100% is the highest rating possible outside the realm of corporate goal-setting and high school sports, where giving 110% is not uncommon.) This rating is democratic: the 100% is a result of 9,395 separate votes, as of presstime. It's hard to think of anything more universally supported by such a volatile demographic. This puts KBS in a very elite category, in which the late Saddam Hussein may be the only other contender.
 |
| "KBS finds a way." |
The KBS allotment for a particular store (or bar) is a function of how much business that store (or bar) does with the distributor in question generally, or of how much the distributor's rep plays golf with that store's beer buyer, or both. Foods For Living, and other such outlets, would simply skirt this bizarre byzantine system by going directly to the brewery, if that hadn't been declared explicitly illegal after Prohibition. If all this is making your head spin, you're not alone, although--to be honest--I assumed it was just the KBS, in my case.
People I know have followed the relevant delivery truck from store to store, hoping to capitalize on the few designated "first-come, first-served" KBS bottles available. This sort of behavior all but guarantees that those only casually interested in trying KBS will simply not be able to do so. This is a reasonable barrier for entry for the Shaolin temple, or the navy SEALS, but for a beer?
Maybe you'd rather just go straight to the source, skipping the labyrinth of middlemen. Downtown Grand Rapids is a place of wonder, so why not stop by Founders and grab a pint right out of the barrel?Well, you might want to book a reservation, or get a ticket. See, Founders tries to offer a little hometown wink wink nudge nudge to the locals, culminating in KBS Week (Match 9-14). The beer doesn't officially release to the public until Match 30th. Unless you live in Michigan! Oh my gosh, KBS is available right now, throughout Michigan! (I just flipped my coffee table over. Not really).
Now, I'm a bit of a skeptic when it comes to gastronomical hype. When a restaurant has a two month reservation wait, I usually end up opting for the local Thai option instead. But KBS exists in a sort of gray area between true Epicureanism and...Armchair Epicureanism. Beer consumption shares this sort of opportunity with poker, PC gaming, and air hockey. If you're a tennis fan, there's zero chance you'll be able to book a match against Vanessa Williams. But if you're an air hockey enthusiast (like me), playing in the US Open is a very real option, to which I can attest. A best-of-the-best wine is out of the average Jane's price range, if you can even find it. But a best-of-the-best beer is being aged in bourbon barrels in some secret catacombs beneath Grand Rapids, and it's only $9.00 for a snifter. As long as you know a guy. So perhaps KBS is a way for Joe Six-pack to indulge in beverage elitism, without trips to Napa Valley. (As long as Joe Six-pack doesn't expect a literal six-pack of KBS, which is not a thing.)
Hype or not, KBS is delicious, and it's something to do in March in Michigan besides be cold and not care about basketball at all (if you're me). But beware, Epicurean adventurers: when your entire to-do list for the day is a craft beer, an emptiness of spirit may accompany an emptiness of glass. I'm uniquely qualified to say so, having reached the bottom of my KBS and the bottom of these reflections in perfect synchronicity.
