Still Not Feeling Well...but the beer's good

I'm up in the Poconos with my in-laws, and while I'm still not feeling very well (had a good day yesterday, but I'm sneezing and coughing worse than ever today), Carl and I tapped into a delicious sixtel of Sierra Nevada Celebration late yesterday afternoon, supplementing it with a bottle of Berentzen Apfelkorn schnapps. That was all pretty damned good. I had to do some work this morning -- writing the New Products column for the next issue of Malt Advocate -- but I'm ready to get a little more of that now. Hops are medicinal, aren't they?

Cheers, and Happy Thanksgiving!

Not feeling well

Not looking for sympathy, but just to let you know not to expect many postings for a while...I feel like crap. Woke up Sunday with a wicked sore throat, woke up this morning with a galloping head cold. Wheezy, tired, and hot. Hell, I might have the flu. In any case, I'm not drinking beer, and I can barely taste the whisky. I hate illness.

Tomos Watkin's Cwrw Brâf

"Lovely Ale" is the translation of Tomos Watkin's Cwrw Brâf, and that's not a bad name at all. The beer comes from Tomos Watkin, a Welsh craft brewer in Swansea. I saw it last Wednesday on the way back from end-of-season gleaning at our farm co-op in New Jersey (90 minutes of chopping broccoli and pulling beets in 33° breeziness had put a thirst on me!), and grabbed it: it was the daffodil on the label that caught my eye on such a cold November day.

I split it with Cathy that night over dinner, a kind of pasta/sausage primavera...in November. Pasta autunno? Anyway, we had freshly-pulled carrots and fresh-cut broccoli with penne and sausage, dressed lightly with vodka sauce, and the Cwrw Brâf was up to the match.

It poured a nice light brown with a reddish-orange cast to it, not quite as nice a head of foam as the picture, but still good. The aroma was mostly of malt and caramel, although there was some light fruitiness. A mouthful gave good fresh malt 'beer' flavor, that amalgam of English ale yeast character and malt that makes this type of beer so pleasing for long-term drinking. You've got flavor for interest, and drinkability for sessioning. This was classic: quite good enough for pleasant drinking and piqueing the interest, not loud or assertive enough to dominate your attention. Comfortable, in a word; a lovely ale indeed.

Elysian Bifröst Winter Ale

Bifröst -- The Rainbow Bridge of Norse mythology. Bifröst spanned the otherwise untravelable distance between Asgard and Midgard; roughly, heaven and earth. (That's pronounced "BIV-rost," BTW, not "BUY-frost.")

I didn't quite get to heaven with my bottle of Elysian Brewing's Bifröst Winter Ale. But it was a nice trip. Bifröst is pleasantly in the "turn it up" category of winter beers, cranked up a little to 6.25%, and 42 IBU (including a nice aromatic dry-hopping with Amarillo and Styrian Goldings). It's got more body than that strength might lead you to expect, not cloyingly so, but enough to grant it some authority. The hops aren't overdone, while the dry-hopping lets some nice aromas -- spicy, earthy, and fresh -- come through.

The more I think about Bifröst, the more I think that this represents the American ale-equivalent of a bock beer, not the variety of ale-brewed bock imitators (Rogue Dead Guy being the best-known). They're good, and they're close to a bock, but this is, I think, closer to the idea, the raison d'etre (or Daseinszweck) of a bock: a bigger, heftier beer for winter comfort. Bifröst achieves this while staying true to its roots, rather than by craftily imitating something other than what it is.

Come the Fimbulwinter and Ragnarok, I'll probably want something much stronger (the Bruichladdich Trestarig might be appropriate). But until the Fire Giants shatter the Rainbow Bridge, I'll be happy with a bottle of Bifröst.

Your Thanksgiving Table

I could get all wrought up about this...but I'm just gonna sigh. Craig LaBan, who seemed to be on "our side" with beer more lately (witness this brilliant little bit on rye beer from Oct. 31), has a piece in today's Inky about wine for Thanksgiving. And --

Well, wait. Some background. There are a few things I need to tell you about my experience with wine, meals, and wine people. Thanksgiving is a wine disaster almost as big as Thai food, ham*, and chili. You will never get a straight, consistent answer from wine people on what to drink with these foods. Why? Well, with Thanksgiving you've got a variety of traditional foods on the table, usually simple, and generally not sourced from wine-country cuisine.

At my house, it's turkey -- quickly overwhelmed by wine -- mashed potatoes, broccoli, mashed rutabagas (the big yellow turnips coated in wax), sweet potatoes (I skip those, sorry), filling/stuffing/dressing/ramming (whatever you call it), succotash -- can anyone give me a wine that goes with lima beans? -- and my Aunt Carol's favorite, scalloped oysters (this recipe is close, but use Ritz crackers instead of Saltines; we used to use Falcon crackers, but they went away...). Rutabagas and wine? We cook our succotash in thinned milk, and there's milk in the oysters, which is a bit yucky with wine.

So we drink beer, and it works well. Roasted fowl? No problem, we've got caramel touches in the leftover Oktoberfest beers or something like Brooklyn Local One or Rare Vos. Scalloped oysters? Cut against the richness and emphasize the brine of the oyster liquor with a dry stout (which ain't bad with the turkey, either). Succotash, rutabagas, spuds? Pilsner or pale ale. And the sweet potatoes work well with a bit of bourbon; I got no problem with that. Dessert? Don't get me started. The only thing that's a bit tough is my Aunt Alice's zingily tart homemade cranberry sauce, and you know? You don't have to drink with everything.

But wine people can't do that, and, well, I guess I understand. I'd rather drink my favored beer. It's just that they can't make wine work, and the gyrations they go through, every year, are kind of amusing, almost like the vegetarians trying to get around the turkey (some are more graceful about it than others).

I've seen wine people fall back on three approaches to this holiday. There's the Shotgun Solution, which is to throw a variety of wines at the table, while bitching about the boring menu that your mother insists on providing for your annoying, unsophisticated relatives. (Charming. When did Thanksgiving become the official opportunity for writers with dysfunctional families to make the rest of us feel uncomfortable about enjoying ourselves?)

The second approach, which grows directly, forcefully, out of the Shotgun Solution, is the Drastic Course Correction, in which you completely surrender and throw the entire traditional menu overboard -- screw your family -- and serve something else, anything else, so long as it goes with wine. So there.

The third approach, the Wine Above All Cipher, suggests you try "Riesling, Gewürztraminer, or Beaujolais!" It has been my experience that when winefolk suggest these wines -- with Thanksgiving, with barbecue, with Thai food, with Tex-Mex -- what they mean is "Wine doesn't go well with this food, beer would be better." They just can't bring themselves to say it.

And Craig Laban can't, either, though he is more honest than most: "Thanksgiving, the most food-centric holiday of the year, is a wine lover's lament." And then he goes to work. "To begin with, there's the guest list: my relatives." He loves them, he says, and I don't doubt it, but like some of my relatives, they're not as into it as he is, and will drink the box wine with nary a care.

Then he admits that the real problem is the menu. "Thanksgiving is a beast of a feast when it comes to pairing wines...No single wine can handle all these flavors with equal aplomb -- which is liberating in a way. Because there's almost no wrong answer." At which point he hauls out the shotgun and blows eight suggested wines onto the table, keeping them under $18 a bottle...mostly. Keep in mind that a bottle is about four holiday pours, and compare that to the $9 six-packs of craft beer you'll find in most bottleshops, or even the $30 case of 24 bottles. Ouch, in times of reduced budgets (which was the subject of the lead story in today's Food section), wine don't come off so good.

He does stick largely to the traditional menu -- points for that -- but sure enough, there's riesling and beaujolais in there. That shouldn't come as any surprise, because there is no mention anywhere, not in the body, not in a sidebar, nowhere...of beer.

Which is too bad. Beer's come a long way in mainstream press, but when it comes down to the nubbin, to the big food-drink stories of the year, beer's still swept aside, ignored, not taken seriously. Do I really care? Yeah, some, though I realize that what probably happened was that LaBan was asked to write a wine piece for Thanksgiving, and did just that. But I'll have a glass or two of beer at my family Thanksgiving dinner, and we'll talk, and eat, and enjoy ourselves. I'm sure LaBan will too. And his family, whatever they're drinking.

Tip of the hat to Jay Brooks for finding that fine illustration!


*On the ham thing...we do a caroling party at our house most years, and I insist on serving a big roast ham. Beer's great with it, of course, but I'd like to have some kind of wine to go with it for the wine drinkers, so I asked wine people. Suggestions ranged from "Er...ham's tough to pair" to (inevitably) "Try a Beaujolais or a Riesling!" (To be fair, I do like a cold bottle of Riesling with a really hot pork and hominy chili I make...but beer's good, too.) The first year, I tried the Beaujolais and it was a disaster: clashed with the salt and the roasted crackly surface of the ham. However, I did get one suggestion that has worked out well...for me, at least: Domaine Chandon Blanc de Noirs, a rather tasty sparkling wine made with pinot noir grapes, that goes quite nicely with the ham. The only problem is that no one but me ever wants to drink it; damned sunny-day wine folk. Still, lemons, lemonade...after everyone leaves, and the family goes to bed, I make myself a big ham sandwich, grab what's left of the blanc de noirs, and watch Blade Runner. It's become a weird Christmas tradition for me, and I've invited Thomas to join me this year. For the ham and the replicants, of course.

Brooks takes on the Marin Institute

Jay Brooks has written a great diatribe -- not over the top enough for a rant, but it'll do -- about the booze-hatin' Marin Institute's support for California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger's proposed nickel-drink tax. He exposes all the crap about this proposal: the basic unfairness of it, the bogus justifications for it, the nebulous "statistics" used to support it, the imposition of morality it represents, all that, and does it well. Anti-alcohol groups like the Marin Institute, like the Center for Science in the Public Interest, like the Center on Alcohol and Substance Abuse, like the Center for Alcohol Marketing and Youth -- no wait, they folded their tents and slipped away into the night (or another Robert Wood Johnson Foundation-funded anti-booze group, same difference) -- consistently misrepresent the facts, rig the statistics, and spin the studies. This one is a classic.

But I have to disagree with Jay on one thing, this:

"I can’t help but be surprised to see neo-prohibitionists — an overwhelmingly conservative bunch — co-opt liberal socialist (and President-elect) Barack Obama’s tagline and appropriate it for their own use."

Neo-prohibitionists are not overwhelmingly conservative! That's what makes them dangerous. They are, as they were 90 years ago, before the neo- part came along, a movement that spans the political spectrum and uses whatever tools are to hand. They are against alcohol for moral reasons, for "health" reasons, and often, sadly, because their family was blighted by an alcoholic. We cannot assume that they only come from one side of the aisle...if we do, we'll be blindsided.

"Anheuser-Busch has become a wholly owned subsidiary of Anheuser-Busch InBev..."

The deal's done. InBev now owns Anheuser-Busch, and the new company is called Anheuser-Busch InBev. Not a lot to say that hasn't already been said... So long Sesame Place, no more laughs about Big Bird and Bud Light. Wonder if Busch Gardens in Williamsburg will go as well? (Sorry, got some questions about this: Sesame Place won't be closing, but ABIB will almost certainly be selling it off for cash; they'll probably sell off every non-brewing asset they can.)
More to the point...whither Michelob, Budweiser American Ale, and all the craft brewer investments -- Craft Brewers Alliance, Coastal, etc.? This company bit off a lot for this merger: they're gonna have to come up with cash -- from selling assets -- and savings -- from cutting costs. This meeting of corporate cultures is going to be the Clash of the Titans. Buckle up, kids.

NYWF: Run up to WhiskyFest NYC

As I said, Cathy and I went up to NYC for WhiskyFest a week ago. We caught an afternoon train and got to the Marriott Marquis just in time to check in and run for a cab to get down to Union Square Cafe for dinner with the rest of the staff. Good thing we ran: we clocked up $6 just getting around the block! (The effect of the economy on the theater district seemed to be minimal...though I'm sure someone could argue that (probably won't, though, now that the election's over...) On down to Union Square!

Always a fun time going out with the Malt Advocate staff. The beer list, as mentioned earlier, was not deep, though I was able to alternate between the wholly acceptable Anchor Steam and Allagash White, depending on what I was eating. The wine types had an Italian white that they were apparently quite happy with. Cathy got a gnocchi appetizer that was quite good, a new standard for gnocchi for me (I love gnocchi, and now I love it even more). I got a plate of five cheeses (about an ounce of each), three of which were quite nice. My entree was a tough choice, but I finally got the branzino. It was quite yum.

Dinner broke up and it was a question: go to the hotel, go out for drinks around the hotel, catch the L train to Brooklyn and go to Spuyten Duyvil and Barcade, or go to dba. I'll go to dba, I told John, if Ray Deter's there. So John gets out the cell, calls Ray, and bingo, we were in a cab for dba: me, John, Cathy, and Jim McGinley (you may remember Jim from our Fado exploits). We grabbed a table by the front and got beers.

I got Ridgeway Bitter, which was just grand. Then Ray showed up and started pulling out beers. The first thing he did was throw on a small keg of Taras Boulba (from the De La Senne brewery), a beer the BAs have been frothing about and I'd been interested in trying. I got my wish, and was soon wishing I could have stuck with the Ridgeway. I thought the TB was thin, flatly bitter, and astringent; I'm hoping it's better in the bottle. The next one he brought out, Stouterik (also from De La Senne (did Dan Shelton just come to town?), finally did send me back to the Ridgeway for one last one: the Stouterik was, again, astringent, and uninteresting. We did have a great time talking and getting caught up -- long time since I'd hung out with Ray -- and finally got back to the hotel about 1:30.

Tuesday morning we met Thomas's godfather and namesake Tom Curtin for breakfast and a ton of conversation and catch-up (I'm godfather to Tom's son Michael Augustine), and then we got this shot.









We walked a couple more blocks with TC, then he peeled off for work, and Cathy and I went to M&M World. I love me some M&Ms, and it was a fun few minutes, especially when Cathy got into the M&M Analyzer and it told her that her color was "Silver" and that her outer shell was soft and needed re-structuring. (My color was "Green," by the way, and my energy is contagious. So watch out for my energy, baby.)

Hmmm...running out of battery. Guess it's not contagious for laptops. More later.

Busy week

Sorry I've been absent, it's been a busy week.

Monday afternoon Cathy and I trained up to NYC for WhiskyFest prep; we had dinner with the Malt Advocate staff at Union Square Cafe (great food; pretty lame beer list, guys) and then went down to dba for beers.

Tuesday we had breakfast with Thomas's godfather (he works in Manhattan) and got some stuff at M&M World on Times Square; helped set up WhiskyFest, and then from 3 to 10:30, it was presenting the world's best whiskeys at the Marriott Marquis (I made sure to sample some more this time, and I'll tell you about them when I get a moment, including the new Swedish Mackmyra), followed by Unibroue and whiskies in the magazine suite.

Wednesday we came home, reassured Penderyn that we really did still love him, and after some quick phone interviews, I went down to the Philadelphia Whiskey Festival. My first time, beautiful venue...but it ain't WhiskyFest, brother.

Thursday I worked pretty much non-stop on my Ale Street column and my next Massachusetts Beverage Biz story (had a singing rehearsal in the evening).

Friday I finished the MBB story at 12:45 and left at 1:40 for The Lion, where I got a tour, and attended the regional MBAA meeting (they've invited me a number of times, this was the first one I could make; hell, I might join); heard Dave Edgar from HopUnion talk on the hop outlook (good, mostly; more later) and a presentation on filtration pads, all in The Lion's newly refurbished taproom -- looking good! Then I slipped west for a couple short ones at One Guy -- damn, Berwick really likes the place!

Today...I've got my errands done, and I'm headed for Iron Hill Newark for the Black & Tan Cask event, then going out for dinner with friends tonight.

Whew... I hope to post something more substantial on all this soon. I thought November was going to be a bit slower!

Rainy Day in Jersey

I had some time to myself on Saturday -- Thomas was at a forensics tournament (3rd place), Nora was visiting Lancaster with friends, and Cathy was visiting her mom -- so I hopped in the car and headed to New Jersey. It's not a secret that I have not visited all the breweries in New Jersey Breweries: Mark and I split the visits. Before Saturday, I had nine to go. I decided Saturday morning that I might as well grab a few on a free day, and set an ambitious schedule of four; between the weather and personal matters, I got to two.

The weather? Sucked. Gray and rainy, not cold, but not warm either. I headed up Rt. 1, cruising through fairly heavy traffic, headed for New Brunswick. I'm embarrassed to admit that Harvest Moon was on my "Still to Visit" list; New Brunswick's so easy to get to. I was there in under an hour. Parking was a little tough; there was a Rutgers game that day. But someone pulled out of a free streetside space right smack-dab in front of me, so I grabbed it, and walked a block and a half to the place.

Harvest Moon's in a nicely worn older building, with a gleaming copper bar ("gleaming" because they were actually finishing up buffing it as I sat down, and it looked great (and didn't reek of polish, a big plus!)) and the brewery arrayed along the entry; the small silo was right over the entrance.

The man behind the bar set me right up with an Elmes' Mild Manor, a 5+% "mild." Too strong, obviously, but quite tasty, and very drinkable. He also poured me a taste of their new Belgian Wheat Wine. There were some solventy higher alcohol smells at first, but they blew off quickly with swirling, and the beer itself was definitely like nothing else I'd ever had: spicy, good body, not over-hopped (dry-hopped with Fuggles, I think he said), and not too sweet. Nice beer.

Onward! I walked back to the car in the rain, and told Minerva to take me to Pizzeria Uno. God, what crap weather, and construction, and jughandles...but I finally got there, the one Pizzeria Uno that's also a brewpub (remembered as I walked in that there had been rumors that the Poughkeepsie Uno had been slated for the conversion...which then fell through). Walked in, sat down, and got recognized by a reader. So we talked beer for a pleasant 45 minutes, while I got a Gust & Gale Porter (quite nice, chocolatey, no flaws, drink-el-ocity), a spinach/gorgonzola flatbread (also QN, with fresh tomatoes, reminded me of the pizza I had in Rome), and an Ike's IPA (quite clean, not overdone, but these days -- category creep, as I commented to the reader -- more a pale ale than an IPA).

The brick look of the place really took away the "chain place beside Rt. 1" image. I liked that part a lot...even though I was told I wasn't allowed to take this picture. Huh? "Policy", I was told. Well, okay, but...it's a public place! Look, if it's really an issue, Uno, just contact me, let me know, and I'll take it down. But I liked the place, and the beer, and the pizza. Don't ruin it by whining about the photo!

Anyway, I got back in the car and drove home (two brewpubs in 107 miles round trip, not bad), stopping to pick up a piece of liver for Penderyn: Saturday was his birthday. He loved it.