Every once in a while, beer stops behaving like beer and starts acting like philosophy — a riddle disguised as foam. Today, Peaks & Pints hosts the Tao of Josh / Tao of Manny Tacoma release party (5–7 p.m., taps side-by-side), where pFriem Family Brewers and Georgetown Brewing pour twin West Coast IPAs brewed from the same recipe, each revealing a different soul. Come taste the yin and the yang, argue about water and wizardry, and watch enlightenment arrive by the pint.
And because wisdom loves company, we built The Tao of Peaks & Pints Beer Flight to frame the conversation — five pours from Georgetown and pFriem that sketch the full spectrum of brewing truth. On one side, Georgetown’s Roger and Manny: the quiet craftsman polishing pilsner into crystal clarity; the joyful chaos agent who brews laughter straight into the wort. On the other, Josh Pfriem: the monk of Hood River, distilling balance and beauty into oak, smoke, and sunlight. Discipline and play, stillness and swing — call it balance by the ounce. Drink the flight, then dive into the Taos.
Call it yin and yang on tap. Call it balance by the ounce. Call it a lesson in how two breweries, separated by a few hundred miles of river and rain, can still arrive at the same shimmering truth — that good beer, like good living, is best approached with intention, humility, and just enough wonder to lose yourself in the pour.
The Tao of Peaks & Pints Beer Flight
Georgetown Brewing Roger’s Pils
4.9% ABV | German-Style Pilsner | Seattle, WA
While Manny spins his Tao in hops and laughter, Roger finds enlightenment in restraint. Roger’s Pils is his meditation — a pilsner so crystalline it feels like still water reflecting stainless light. Brewed with German malt and noble hops, it moves with quiet authority: lemon peel and meadow grass on the nose, crisp cracker and faint spice in the sip, a finish as clean as a clear morning after rain. It doesn’t posture; it doesn’t perform. It simply is — the kind of beer that rewires your definition of simple. Roger’s Pils is very much his Tao: clarity, craft, and quiet mastery — proof that silence, when brewed well, can be its own kind of sermon.
pFriem Family Brewers Barrel-Aged Saison VI
7.1% ABV | Barrel-Aged Saison | Hood River, OR
Barrel-Aged Saison VI feels like drinking sunlight filtered through cathedral glass — a wild, whispering sermon in oak and patience. pFriem’s brewers age this farmhouse ale for more than a year in French barrels until fruit, funk, and wood learn to breathe the same air. The aroma drifts between lemon peel and white grape, hayfield and halo; the flavor opens in luminous layers of tart apple, honeyed straw, and faint vanilla oak before finishing bone-dry, effervescent, and just a little feral. It’s the calm heart of chaos, Josh Pfriem’s obsession with structure stretched to its most delicate edge — proof that fermentation, when given time and trust, can sound an awful lot like enlightenment in a glass.
pFriem Japanese Lager
5% ABV | Japanese-Style Rice Lager
pFriem’s Japanese Lager is Josh Pfriem’s quietest sermon — a study in restraint so exact it borders on transcendence. Brewed with Pilsner malt, flaked rice, and the soft-spoken nobility of Hallertau Mittelfrüh hops, it shimmers in the glass like pale gold meditation. The aroma drifts in on rice steam and wildflower honey, the flavor unfolding with featherweight malt, lime whisper, and a mineral finish so clean it feels like it might vanish mid-sip. But that’s the point — it’s perfection that refuses to linger, craftsmanship so disciplined it erases its own fingerprints. This is Josh’s Tao rendered in bubbles: calm precision, beauty through subtraction, and the stillness that remains after the last drop dissolves into silence.
Georgetown Fresh Hop Dalton
6.8% ABV | Fresh Hop IPA
Fresh Hop Dalton is Georgetown’s annual love letter to Yakima, still damp with morning dew and the electric perfume of Mosaic cones just cut from the bine. Brewed within hours of harvest, it hits the glass like sunlight through hop oil — mango flesh, basil static, citrus zest, and the faint green heartbeat of the valley itself. The body hums with that signature Georgetown balance — soft malt glide, crisp finish, no wasted motion — a beer that tastes alive, breathing, humming with harvest. It’s joy in its freshest form: Manny’s laughter echoing through the kettle, the truck from Loftus Ranches still warm from the drive, the whole of Washington autumn condensed into one gloriously green gulp.
pFriem Maple Barrel-Aged Smoked Porter
9.5% ABV | Barrel-Aged Smoked Porter
This is what happens when winter learns to whisper in smoke. pFriem’s Maple Barrel-Aged Smoked Porter feels like a campfire’s afterthought — all charred oak memory and syrup-soaked dreams. Aged in Vermont maple barrels still sticky with caramelized sap, it rolls out in waves of toasted pecan, cocoa, and ghosted maple sweetness, the smoke curling through like incense in a log cabin cathedral. The sip is thick but graceful — roasted malt and soft maple sugar entwined in slow, deliberate dance — before fading into a dry ember glow that lingers just long enough to make you sigh. It’s breakfast for insomniacs, dessert for philosophers, a porter that hums like a cello in the snow.
LINK: Peaks & Pints beer and cider cooler inventory
