No over-prepared, edited-to-death introduction here.

The Founders Brewing dinner at The Good Life (http://www.thegoodlifeny.com) last
Tuesday evening deserves a free-Ferris wheel prose approach, just blue liquid
water stuffs flowin’ round and round and living and water and life and the night
people and all of us and yes, all of them, too.

It’s okay, I don’t know what that means, either.

Anyway.

I had the pleasure of attending the five course/five brew meal at Massapequa
Park’s newest beer bar, and honestly, as I type this almost a week later, I am
still floored by a) Founders’ quality of beer product, and b) The Good Life’s
cuisine and its overall presentation.

A perfect combination, all around.

Favorite Course: Braised Short Rib, Bourbon Lacquer, Poached Egg, Potato Hash,
Orange Scented Brioche w/ Kentucky Breakfast Stout.

Just…wow. I left a Facebook comment about this meal, stating something about
me and sexual intercourse and a poached egg.

You get the point.

This was my third date with Kentucky Breakfast Stout, and it’s become
increasingly harder to bid farewell once that last drop of brain rush-and-crush
coffee and chocolate has ventured down my esophagus. Pure bliss. Also, if I
squint real hard and use my imagination machine, I can still feel the soft short
rib being vacuumed up by the Stout, then melting in my mouth. Memories.

My last thoughts on Kentucky Breakfast Stout: you need some in your life. If you
can find someone who believes the opposite, let me know. I’d like to pummel them
over the head with a newspaper.

Second Favorite Course: Wild Mushrooms, Arborio Rice, Aged Pecorino w/
Centennial IPA.

I could have spent an entire week just inhaling the Centennial IPA. Scent was a
hop blast of pine and earth and citrus, while it’s malt taste made for a great
balance. Not too bitter. Not too sweet. Goldilocks thinks the Centennial was
just right. So do I.

Last Comment: Southern Pecan Pie = !!!

Props to The Good Life and Founders. Excellent food. Excellent beer. Excellent
service. Excellent night.

P.S. — Todd, I shall come up with a name for our secret project. Don’t you
worry.