"Oh!" he said and danced a jig "it is you! it arrived!" He was so happy for me that he darted this way and that, leading me to the back corner of the Gull Liquor store that opens onto the warehouse. He pointed to the top right side of the shelf in the craft beer cooler section that contained the treasure.
"Or..." he says, contemplating this option, moving from foot to foot and adjusting his mask "or... you could of course take a whole case...?"
I took the case, of course. This is, after all, my favourite stout, and has been out of stock for several months.
She is smooth, she is the roundness and warmth of chocolate covered coffee beans that have been cozied up close to licorice. Her fragrance is cherry and blackberry, suffused with molasses. She is a warm summer day without the cheap summer fling. She is the licking of flames of a winter wood fire. Have I mentioned already that I love her?
Garún is a full bodied 11.5% alc./vol Icelandic stout.
From the brewery's site: "Garún has an aura of intense richness and a haunting aroma with heady notes of chocolate, licorice and coffee. The soft Icelandic water plays a crucial role in giving this exceptional damsel its smoothness, and the double fermentation infuses the beer with a taste that is at once pungent and mild."
Borg Brugghús, the icelanding brewery that created her, is a progressive craft brewery founded in 2010 whose principal aim is to incorporate Icelandic cultural traits and local ingredients into its wide variety of beers and pair with food. Borg Brugghús has already received numerous awards at some of the world‘s most noted and influential competitions.
Their site also has one of the best and most poetic descriptions of the beer making process: http://www.borgbrugghus.is/about-borg/brewingprocess
Shamelessly borrowing from the Borgbrugghus' website:
The first lady of Borg is named after the heroine of one of Iceland’s most popular folktales The Deacon of Dark River. A tale of ghosts, unrequited love, and life triumphing over death, told against the backdrop of elements essential to Iceland’s character: ice, snow and whorling waters; dark and mysterious – the same elements that inspire this rich and bold Icelandic stout.
The story is a haunting tale: [from wikipedia]
A deacon who lived on a farm called Myrká (Dark River) had a girlfriend named Guðrún. She lived on farm called Bægisá located on the other side of a big river called Hörgá. One day the deacon rode his horse Faxi to Bægisá to meet Guðrún so they could discuss their plans for Christmas. The deacon promised to ride to Bægisá on Christmas Eve and bring Guðrún to Myrká where they could celebrate the holiday together. But on his way back home that day, the deacon was unexpectedly caught in a heavy storm. He fell into the Hörgá river where he suffered a severe head injury and drowned.
The deacon's body was found the next day by a farmer and buried a week before Christmas. But the news of his death somehow had not reached Guðrún. On Christmas Eve, as per their arrangement, the deacon arrived at her farm. She had barely finished dressing, and only had time to put on one sleeve of her coat before they were off on their journey. As they rode, his face was hidden by a hat and scarf, but when they came to Hörgá river the horse tripped and the deacons hat fell forward. Guðrún saw his terrible head injury. As the moon shined upon them he said, “The moon fades, death rides. Don't you see a white spot on the back of my head, Garún , Garún?“ She replied, “I see, what is“. After that, they did not speak a word until they came to the deacon's farm Myrká. When they got off the horse, the deacon spoke again. “Wait here Garún, Garún. While I move Faxi, Faxi (the deacon's horse) over the fence, fence”. (In Icelandic folklore, ghosts often speak in verse, repeating the last word of each line.)
When Guðrún noticed an open grave in the graveyard, she felt the deacon trying to pull her into it. By luck, she was only wearing one sleeve of her coat, and when the deacon pulled on her empty sleeve, she was able to break free and run away. As the deacon disappeared into the grave and the grave filled up, she realized that the deacon was dead and she'd encountered his ghost. Guðrún was haunted by the deacon's ghost throughout the night, the disturbance causing others residing at the farm to lose sleep. An exorcist was summoned who finally put the deacon's ghost to rest
Great background information is in the BBC series "In Our Time" about icelandic sagas.
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