Physical Address
304 North Cardinal St.
Dorchester Center, MA 02124
Viktor B.
Co-Founder, Chief Editor, First MusckeCheer
Reviews Posted:
Unique Beers Tried:
About Me
At my core, I am a creator—whether it’s in the kitchen, at the brewing station, or with an instrument in hand. I find joy in crafting experiences, from cooking elaborate meals and pairing them with the perfect drink to fine-tuning a cocktail recipe with homemade tinctures and liqueurs. Beer, wine, spirits, and coffee aren’t just beverages to me; they are stories in a glass, shaped by history, process, and creativity. My curiosity extends into brewing, where I revel in the details, always searching for ways to refine and experiment, iterate and evaluate.
Beyond my love for flavors and aromas, I thrive in spaces filled with warmth, color, and community. A well-curated home, brimming with personality, is just as important to me as the energy of a great gathering with friends. Whether it’s an evening of board games, a deep dive into the finer arts of water profiles for coffee, or a spirited discussion over a thoughtfully crafted beer, I value the connections that form over shared passions. Social moments aren’t just a pastime—they’re the essence of why I love exploring and creating.
Professionally, my background as a design engineer, with a focus on sustainable business development, user-oriented design, and entrepreneurship, reflects my desire to blend innovation with purpose. I approach everything with a designer’s mindset—whether it’s crafting a homebrew recipe, refining a sensory experience, or evaluating the nuances of a well-executed beer. For me, exploration is never passive; it’s a deliberate pursuit of knowledge, experience, and, ultimately, the joy of discovery.
The Beer, The brewer and The Bottomless Curiosity
I grew up in a home where good food, good drinks, and good company were the pillars of everyday life. While I never actively sought out “good” coffee, wine, or beer in my younger years, I had a strong aversion to anything that felt cheap or compromised—something that was made without care. Without realizing it, I was developing a quiet appreciation for craftsmanship and quality, a taste for the niche and the well-made. It wasn’t until the end of high school that my natural curiosity took over, and I started truly geeking out. One of my more prominent traits is that when I get into something, I don’t just skim the surface—I dive in headfirst. Whether it’s brewing, cooking, specialty coffee, or even music, I want to understand why things work, how they can be optimized, and where the creative possibilities lie. That mindset is probably what led me to study design engineering, where problem-solving meets creativity, much like the things I love doing in my free time.
During the final years of university, I landed in a dorm with an incredibly well-equipped homebrewing facility and a welcoming community surrounding it — an unexpected but fateful twist. I quickly made friends with someone who shared my enthusiasm, and before long, we were brewing together regularly. My friend also introduced me to craft beer, usually while we were waiting for our own brews to hit boiling temperatures or cooling down. Tasting what beer could be was eye-opening; it shattered the idea that beer was just bland pilsners and ales. But if I’m being honest, I fell in love with brewing before I fell in love with the beer itself. The process was captivating—so much precision, so many variables, and endless opportunities to experiment. It didn’t take long before I found myself completely immersed, obsessing over yeast strains, fermentation techniques, and recipe development.
From that point on, brewing became more than just a hobby; it became an extension of how I think. It was the perfect mix of structured problem-solving and boundless creativity—science meets art in a way that felt tailor-made for my mind. We brewed often, talked beer constantly, and before I knew it, I wasn’t just brewing—I was exploring. Every beer I tasted became a lesson, every style a new frontier, every label a presentation of purpose. What started as a fun dorm room activity spiraled into a full-blown passion, and now, years later, I’m still chasing that same thrill: the joy of understanding, the excitement of experimenting, and, most importantly, the memories created along the way.
Frequent Pours
At the heart of my beer preferences lies one core principle: balance—not in the sense of equal parts of everything, but in the way flavors interact to enhance a beer’s central theme. I love beers that commit to an idea and execute it with precision, layering flavors in a way that feels intentional and immersive. While I appreciate classic styles, I’m far more drawn to the experimental, the unexpected—the beers that push boundaries but still feel well-crafted rather than gimmicky.
When it comes to stouts, I live for the big, bold, and unapologetically indulgent. Imperial and double stouts that are thick, heavy, and roasty, with carefully chosen adjuncts, are my sweet spot. Not overly sweet, not one-dimensional, but built with a deep, rich foundation where flavors like vanilla, cocoa, cinnamon, and coffee can just as easily stand alone as they can enhance chili, stonefruits or banana without overwhelming the base beer. Think stouts like Amager Bryghus’ Outlaw Series and the decadent ingenuity of The Bruery. Pastry-like elements are welcome, but the beer itself should still take center stage.
I have a deep appreciation for sours as well—especially those that lean into the pastry and smoothie realm without tipping into pure dessert territory. There’s a fine line between indulgent and cloying, and I prefer sours that maintain a drinkable quality while still delivering big, juicy, and tart flavors. Vault City and Tox Brewing sometimes hit this mark beautifully, while classics like Lindemans’ Lambic Kriek remind me that old-world styles still have a place in my fridge. And of course, I have a soft spot for a well-executed IPA—whether it’s a hazy NEIPA or a punchy Triple IPA. The key for me is a balance of sweetness and bitterness; I’ll take juicy, vibrant, and full-bodied over dry and aggressively resinous any day.
Beers That Just Don’t Click (Yet?)
While I love exploring just about every style of beer, there are a few that consistently challenge my taste buds—Belgian beers being the biggest culprit. There’s something about their signature combination of sweetness, spice, and caramelized malt that just doesn’t sit right with me. The interplay of esters and phenols, that almost candy-like yet peppery profile, often makes me feel like I’m drinking a strange fusion of overripe fruit, holiday spices, and a splash of vinegar. It’s not that I don’t appreciate complexity—far from it—but the particular way Belgian yeasts and malt choices express themselves simply doesn’t align with what I enjoy in a beer. Witbiers are the rare exception, but beyond that, I’ve yet to find a Belgian ale that truly resonates with me.
Another category I struggle with is craft lagers and pilsners. Not because I dislike them, but because I often find it difficult to pick up on the finer nuances that make a great one stand out. It’s a style I want to appreciate more, and I recognize the craftsmanship behind a perfectly executed lager, but my palate is still adjusting. I’m working on it—tasting more, learning more, and trying to develop a better appreciation for their subtleties. But for now, I find myself reaching for other styles more often than not.
Saisons are a bit of a wildcard for me. It’s a love/hate relationship, where some feel like I’m drinking straight-up liquid yeast—too funky, too wild, and lacking a clear direction. But when a brewer gets it right, balancing the funk and rustic charm with a well-defined theme, it can be something special. Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales has given me some of my favorite saisons, where the funk isn’t just there for the sake of being funky—it serves a purpose, guiding the beer’s flavor profile rather than overpowering it. So while saisons aren’t always my go-to, I can respect them when they’re done well.
How I Approach Tasting and Reviewing Beer
Drinking beer isn’t just about taste—it’s about the full experience, from the way it’s poured to how it evolves over time. I aim to give every beer the best possible conditions to shine, starting with proper glassware and serving temperature. A crisp lager or IPA deserves to be cool but not ice-cold, while a stout or barrel-aged beer benefits from a warmer pour to allow the aromas to open up. The right glassware also plays a role—tulip glasses for hoppy or aromatic styles, snifters for high-ABV beers, and proper weizen or pilsner glasses when the style calls for it.
Once the beer is poured, I take in its appearance. I look at the foam structure—is it dense and creamy, or loose and quickly dissipating? I check for clarity or haze, depending on the style, and observe how carbonation presents itself. From there, it’s time to dive into aroma. I take a deep inhale to pick up on the layers—hop intensity, malt depth, yeast character, and any adjuncts at play. Does it smell vibrant and inviting? Subtle and intriguing? Or is something off, like oxidation or diacetyl?
Tasting is where everything comes together. Much like a sommelier with wine, I pay attention to viscosity, carbonation, and how the beer moves across my palate. I assess acidity, sweetness, roastiness, and bitterness, noting how they balance (or don’t). If the beer has adjuncts, I consider how well they integrate—do they enhance the beer’s theme, or do they overpower it? I prefer drinking slowly, allowing the beer to warm and evolve in the glass. Some flavors only emerge with time, while others fade, revealing whether the beer has hidden depths or weaknesses masked by colder temperatures and time.
1/5 –
Actively unpleasant. I wouldn’t drink it again, and I might not even finish my glass.
2/5 –
Drinkable, but not something I’d seek out or spend money on again. If offered, I’d drink it, but I’d rather explore something else.
3/5 –
A solid, enjoyable beer. This is the threshold where I’m willing to spend my own money and recommend it to others.
4/5 –
A beer that stands out. Something that surprises me, executes its concept exceptionally well, or has that extra wow factor.
5/5 –
Perfection. There is absolutely nothing I would change or improve. These are the rare, unforgettable beers that set a benchmark.