Thursday, March 28, 2024

Beer O'Clock: Windmill Brewery

In November of 1838, approximately 250 men from an American para-military group tried to cross the St. Lawrence River and seize the small town of Prescott, in an attempt to gain a foothold on what would bring further incursion into Canada.

The mission largely failed, due to the British forces being tipped off and were prepared (along with the townsfolk and some American authorities), but some of the invaders landed downstream, at Windmill Point, just east of Prescott. These forces managed to hold the hamlet of Newport and its tall, stone windmill, which they used as a lookout of advancing British troops.

The para-military group managed to hang on to the windmill and hamlet for four days before surrendering to the outnumbering British forces.

The hamlet is only a memory, today, but the windmill still stands. Sort of. It was converted into a lighthouse in 1873 and was declared a national historic site in 1920.

I discovered this landmark when I was scouting out a good spot to set up my camera gear to photograph the upcoming solar eclipse. One of my cameras will take a wide-angle shot, in which I will create a composite of the phases of the eclipse, and I wanted an interesting landmark in the foreground.

I think this spot will work nicely.

Last weekend, as DW and I made our way to the windmill/lighthouse, we passed a brewery near the turnoff. It was aptly named Windmill Brewery. It's just off Highway 2, between Prescott and Johnstown, in a spot called Wexford (if you blink, you'll miss it).

"Well, I know where we can go after the eclipse," I said to DW.

Sadly, the brewery is only open on weekends. The total solar eclipse is on a Monday. But that didn't stop DW and me from paying the brewery a visit after we scoped out a few spots in the area, including in the town of Prescott, itself.

Windmill Brewery shares its space with a distillery, King's Lock, plus the Newport BBQ & Bakery. We arrived shortly before they closed but early enough to enjoy a few samples. I tried a couple of their samples (the gentleman behind the counter actually cracked open fresh cans to let me try) and not only did I walk out with a couple of cans of the two beers that I tried, I also grabbed a couple of cans of a third, untried brew to surprise myself back home.

The guy also directed us to the distillery, after we were done, and we walked away with four bottles of lovely vodka, rye whiskey, and more (curses, that brewery guy!).

Let's focus on the beer today.

I was tempted to try the unknown beer as soon as I got home. Looking at the label, which features the inner confines of Fort Wellington, I asked our friend at the brewery if it was a stout or porter, and he said no, that it was a black lager.

Barracks Black Lager (4.5% ABV)

Appearance: pours a coppery black, almost like root beer, with a foamy beige head that starts thick (a centimetre or two) but settles quickly to a fine lace before clearing to a thin ring around the side of the glass. Large, effervescent bubbles settled to fine pearls, and eventually went all but flat (disclaimer: I drank this lager over more than an hour but still felt it should have some fizz left). Don't dally with your pint.

Nose: chocolate and figs.

Palate: light-bodied, with hints of prunes, a touch of coffee, and dark chocolate that hits the back of the tongue in the finish. At times, I thought I tasted black licorice but if I did, it was fleeting. Even though I let my glass go flat, the flavours held firm.

Overall impression: this is a very nice, easy-drinking schwarzbier. Light-bodied but flavourful, with nothing overpowering. I wish I had picked up more than two cans: its incredibly sessionable.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

The next beer that I want to share with you is the first ale that I was offered. Admittedly, the guy in the shop said that he didn't know a lot about IPAs when I asked him if Windmill made a traditional, British-styled IPA, as opposed to the modern, hazy, tropical-fruity brews that are so popular these days.

As he cracked open the can, he told me that their ale poured clear. He almost seemed apologetic but I was quite enthusiastic. "That sounds traditional to me," I said.

I'll blend some of my first impressions, in the taproom, with a closer analysis at home in my review.

Four Chord IPA (4.5% ABV)

Appearance: a slightly unfiltered, straw gold with a foamy white head that creates a firm, dense cap. I know the guy in the shop said this IPA pours clear, and in the couple of ounces that he placed in my sample glass, it seemed that way, too. But when you pour the whole contents into a pint glass, there's a bit less clarity. It's a bit paler than a traditional IPA but only slightly, and takes the palest part of the pale spectrum.

Nose: it's a bit closed in the pint glass but I got traces of lemongrass in the small sample glass. There's a balance of malt and hops with a hint of grapefruit.

Palate: the hops come forward in the mouth but do not overpower. It's a full body with a bit of pine resin in the lengthy finish. At 4.5% ABV, this ale is a bit lighter in alcohol than an English IPA (which is usually 5 to 7.5 percent) but this tastes very much like a classic IPA. I had my doubts in the tasting room, with such a small sample, but the full pint has me more convinced.

Overall impression: this is quite a good, traditional IPA. It's hoppy and full bodied, without the haze and tropical fruit of what passes as a NEIPA or other so-called IPAs that make me cringe, even though I love their flavours. I was prepared to give this brew a rating of 2, when I was in the Windmill tap room, but I've since revived my score.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

The third brew was enjoyable from a small sample glass: how does it stack up in a pint glass?

Festbier (6.5% ABV)

Appearance: pours a copper-amber with a fizzy-white heat that settles right down to nothing. There are miniature pearls that rise to the surface and spread out to the edges of the glass.

Nose: spices that remind me of pumpkin pie and a bit of malt. There's also a bit of nuttiness to it.

Palate: I'm not 100-percent sure of the style of beer but I'm leaning toward a Märzen (in fairness, the name sort of implies the style). It certainly has that Oktoberfest flavour to it. In addition to the spice (clove?), I get a bit of toasted caramel and more breaded malt. A little headier than a traditional Märzen, I get the alcohol but it doesn't detract from the overall taste.

Overall impression: I can see myself drinking this brew in the fall, when the leaves change colour and the air gets cooler (again, the label helps put these thoughts in my head). There's a good body to this beer and the flavours are warm and inviting. The brewers at Windmill have produced a good German-styled lager (yes, I've now finally read the label) of which they should be proud.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺

Being a small brewery, they don't offer delivery service but they're a short detour from Highway 401, just west of the 416 interchange. They're definitely worth a stop (though, they're currently only open on weekends). Plus, you can also check out the Battle of the Windmill National Historic Site.

I'm sad that the brewery won't be open on April 8 but now that I've been here, it won't be my last visit.

Cheers!

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

All I Need Is The Air That I Breathe

So this is the situation:

Photo credit: Hey Paul Studios
In preparation for my upcoming visit to a lung specialist, my doctor's office requested that I get a chest x-ray. I could go anywhere but we both agreed that the imaging centre on Merivale Road was my best option.

I'm having trouble accessing my doctor's office online portal, where I can book appointments, communicate with my doctor, and receive prescriptions and requisitions. Instead, I had to go to my doctor's office to pick up the x-ray requisition, but that was no problem: the office is only about five minutes away from my house.

On Saturday, I went to the Merivale Medical Imaging centre and was seen within an hour of arriving. I was able to check in and leave my cell number, and they texted me when they were ready for me. I was able to grab some breakfast while I waited.

Every time that the radiologist told me to take a deep breath and hold it, I'd end up coughing and would have to take a second breath. "I can see why you're here," he said, trying to be sympathetic to my plight.

When we were done, he wished me well and said that my doctor should have the results by Monday.

Yesterday, my doctor called me with the results. "I'm concerned," she said. She told me that there was an opacity to the lower part of both lungs but it was particularly bad in my left lung. There were also opaque streaks that led upward from the dark areas. She didn't know what was causing them but assured me that the specialist will know.

And so, I wait for the next available appointment, which I hope is soon. I've also made a follow-up appointment with my doctor, who may or may not renew the prescription for my inhalers.

I'm not worried. Not yet. When the circumstances are beyond my control and I don't have definitive information, I tell myself that worrying is a wasteful emotion. I'll stay positive until I know more.

And then, maybe some panic will set in. Wish me luck.

Monday, March 25, 2024

Practice and Luck

Who would have thought that it would be so tricky?

I mean, I've taken photos of the sun before—but then, I really haven't. I mean, the sun has appeared in many of my photos throughout the decades, from sunrise to sunset, and there has never been any real risk.

I've taken pictures of subjects where the sun has appeared in the background: a small, bright dot in the sky like a drop of paint that's hit the floor of a room I'm painting. There's no definition, no detail.

This one has two suns!

For sunrise and sunset shots, the sun is pretty much the star attraction (no pun intended) but because it's low in the sky, somewhat more diffused by our atmosphere, there hasn't seemed to be the danger to either my eye, looking through the viewfinder, nor to the camera's sensor.

Zooming up on the sun, high in the sky, though, is a whole other matter.

In anticipation of the upcoming total solar eclipse, on April 8, I want to make sure that my equipment and my eyes are protected, so I've purchased a couple of ND 100000 solar filters. I need one for each of the lenses I plan to use on the big day.

Through these filters, the sun is the only thing you can see. Everything else is in total darkness.

I intend to use two cameras to capture this rare phenomenon: my Nikon D750 will have my 24–70mm lens, set to wide; my Nikon D7200 will house my 70–300mm lens, which will be zoomed out all the way. Because the D7200 has a cropped sensor, the effective focal length is 450mm.

Not powerful enough to fill the frame but allows for cropping. I've considered investing in a teleconverter, perhaps a 1.4x magnification, but I'm sitting on the fence, not sure I want to invest in something I may not use often afterwards.

And time's running out. The longer I hesitate, the less likely I'll be able to get my hands on one before April 8.

I'm also looking for a place to capture the total eclipse. Ottawa is not in the zone of totality, so I've determined that I have to drive south, toward the St. Lawrence Seaway. This weekend, DW and I drove to Spencerville and Prescott, and I'm leaning toward the latter.

For my wide-angle shot, I want something picturesque in the foreground, and I intend to make a composite shot with a trail of the sun through its various phases of the eclipse. I think I've found my spot.

For now, I'm keeping it to myself.

I've never taken these kinds of pictures before so I'm reading up on photographing the eclipse, watching videos that provide helpful tips. I've learned that except for the totality phase, the solar filter stays on the lens and the exposure settings more or less remain the same. Only during the total blackout of the sun can I remove the filter.

In Spencerville and Prescott, that totality is less than two minutes. I have less than two minutes to get the exposure right on two cameras.

No pressure.

In the final weeks leading up to the big day, I'm practicing photographing the sun. We haven't had many days of clears skies, so far, and I haven't always been available to snap several shots when the sky has been clear, so the pressure is on to make sure I know the best exposure settings.

I've read somewhere (but of course, can't find the source now that I want to confirm it) that the next total solar eclipse won't happen in this part of the world for 20 years. I doubt I'll be around to see it and I have no idea what kind of technology will be available to get the best shot. But I'm fairly confident that this will be my only chance to get it right.

And so, I practice.

I see sunspots. I added colour to the sun in post processing.

Of course, if the weather doesn't cooperate and we can't see the sun, it's all for naught.

Fingers crossed.

Friday, March 22, 2024

Patterns

There are some photos that I shot while DW and I were in Costa Rica that I just don't know what to do with.

They are images of things that just caught my eye and I captured the moment. They are random shots that don't necessarily fit in with the thousands of other photos that I took over our two-week stay.

I like them for what they are. Some, I suppose, can tell a story; others, not so much.

But there's a shot that I see, in the many that are in my Google photo album, that makes me stop and gaze upon it. I haven't edited the shot and I don't think that I need to.

When we were on the sandbar that extends from Playa Uvita and splits into two opposite directions, out into the Pacific, making this unique land mass look like a whale's tail, I took lots of reflection shots as the ocean washed up on the sand, creating a mirrored effect. But at one point, I looked closely at the sand and I saw something entirely different.

I saw a pattern, created by the approaching and then receding water. In it, the sand looked like scales, or feathers.

I took only one photo. One was all I needed.


As I said, I've looked at this photo a few times, in my Google album, but I've never known what to do with it. Maybe, I'll slip it in to a future video of this region. But for now, so that it won't be forgotten, I'll let it live here.

Happy Friday!