I Don't Usually Drink Beer . . .

. . . but I do like a dry (Irish) stout for St. Patrick's day. 

(Or: Yes, kids, it's time for Jack's annual post about dry stouts.)

In my experience, there is only one dry stout that can be found reliably here in Bend, and it doesn't come from any of the locals -- the local offerings are sweet, not dry.

No, it's Guinness for dry stout, and not just any Guinness, but their Extra Stout version. Not the Draught and not the Foreign.

The Draught is watery, and the Foreign isn't a whole lot better. Murphy's has a dry stout in cans but it's no more interesting than Guinness Draught. But Guinness Extra is quite a bit bolder: the roasted barley and the hops -- you can taste them both. It doesn't have much of a head.

I've heard that they have a "Foreign Extra," too, but I haven't seen it.

Yesterday I found the last six-pack of Guinness Extra on the west side. Newport Market said that they had purchased a case for the weekend but blew through it in less than a day. West Side Liquor didn't have it. But Marcia at Safeway took my call, found that last sixer, and held it for me at Customer Service.

Before someone quite reasonably points out that I have no taste in beer, I offer the following: (1) If someone in town made a dry stout, I'd drink it, and B), Beer is only an occasional beverage for me, because beer makes me fat.

Many men my age just grow the belly, and -- what the hell -- stop shaving. Rock that "garden gnome" look.*  And, yes, I could go that route. But and alas, it is not just my belly that swells when I drink beer, but my butt goes along for the ride.

Fun fact: The fellow at West Side Liquor said that all they had was Guinness "Drot."

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* it was my friend Bruce Miller who pointed out the uncanny resemblance between older men with white beards and garden gnomes. Once seen, it cannot be unseen.