I guess I’m supposed to be writing about the earthquake, but there’s not a lot to write. Initially thought someone was jack-hammering downstairs, but as the intensity increased, people started coming out of their cubicles, saying “must be an earthquake.” One co-worker was seriously scared – the look on his face was the definition of paralyzing fear. All he could find the strength to say was “run fast.” I guess with both Fukushima and Haiti still fresh in everyone’s mind, I can’t blame him too much. The company sent people home. Cell phone service completely knocked out. The Metro was running, but on a 15-mph speed limit. I walked the five miles home, stopping for a pint along the way.
So instead, I am going to write about New Belgium. Long a staple of the craft beer scene out West, it is available here in Virginia as of last night. Rustico held a release party of sorts, which C.S. and I checked out. Once again I wasn’t taking notes, so I’m commenting from memory.
Ranger IPA (6.5% ABV, 70 IBU): Nice, clean-tasting IPA, balanced but slightly tilted towards bitter hops. Relatively light in body and color. Excellent when the weather is hot but you still want a pronounced hop flavor.
Trippel (7.8% ABV, 25 IBU): Seriously fruity and a little sugary for my taste. The brewers are mum on what they add, besides coriander (which I actually couldn’t taste), but some candy sugar has got to be in there. Not that there is anything wrong with that – adding it is an old Belgian tradition after all – but makes for a bit too much artificial sweetness for my taste.
Kick (8.5% ABV, IBU unspecified): Even more seriously fruity and sour cranberry and pumpkin lambic. Not at all my style. I only got a 3-oz. taste. It’s the sort of thing you like if you like that sort of thing.
I didn’t bother ordering a Fat Tire. Like everything else, it came in 12-oz goblets, which I thought was completely silly. Out West, it’s the quintessential session beer, and it will always remind me of weekend afternoons whiled away with friends on the rooftop of Grapevine in Scottsdale.
Showing posts with label beer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beer. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Road Trip 2009, Day Five, Part II
Our original plan was to come down the Western side of the state of Michigan and stop for a visit at two legendary breweries in the Grand Rapids area - Founders in Grand Rapids proper, and New Holland in Holland, MI, a few miles away. We were now completely off schedule, however. Determined to catch at least one, we headed for Founders. After an uneventful two and a half hours on US-131, we rolled into downtown Grand Rapids.
Founders, located in the warehouse district on the edge of downtown, turned out to be a block-long hangar, with several roll-top gates, all of them open, separating the cavernous interior from an equally capacious raised deck. At nine o'clock on a Tuesday, the place was well peopled with a stylish twenty-something crowd, but we had no trouble finding two seats at the end of the bar opposite the stage. A singer was performing, accompanying himself on guitar, but the place was so vast that we could barely hear him in our corner. Founders has made a reputation in recent years for being a hotbed of extreme beer, and they did not disappoint. They are most famous, or infamous, for a beer called KBS. It used to stand for Kentucky Bourbon Stout, but seeing as they were nowhere near Kentucky, authorities intervened. Thanks to our generous and enthusiastic bartended, we tasted it. A 11.2% ABV monster aged in Bourbon barrels, it was so intense that the ounce or so he poured for us was more than enough. I cannot imagine drinking even a snifter of the stuff, much less a pint. We had to be a bit careful, seeing as we still had a couple of hours of nighttime driving ahead of us, but I did enjoy a snifter of the Hand of Doom, which is founder's double IPA aged, once again, in Bourbon barrels (definitely a signature of the brewery). It was enormous - huge hops, huge fruit, big funk and pronounced alcohol (10.4% ABV). Evidently, it is not bottled, so we were glad we got to experience it at the source. There were many, many other fascinating-sounding beers on the blackboard, so we made a mental note to come back (the annual release of KBS in March is supposed to be worth attending), and 130 miles later, were back in Ann Arbor.
Founders, located in the warehouse district on the edge of downtown, turned out to be a block-long hangar, with several roll-top gates, all of them open, separating the cavernous interior from an equally capacious raised deck. At nine o'clock on a Tuesday, the place was well peopled with a stylish twenty-something crowd, but we had no trouble finding two seats at the end of the bar opposite the stage. A singer was performing, accompanying himself on guitar, but the place was so vast that we could barely hear him in our corner. Founders has made a reputation in recent years for being a hotbed of extreme beer, and they did not disappoint. They are most famous, or infamous, for a beer called KBS. It used to stand for Kentucky Bourbon Stout, but seeing as they were nowhere near Kentucky, authorities intervened. Thanks to our generous and enthusiastic bartended, we tasted it. A 11.2% ABV monster aged in Bourbon barrels, it was so intense that the ounce or so he poured for us was more than enough. I cannot imagine drinking even a snifter of the stuff, much less a pint. We had to be a bit careful, seeing as we still had a couple of hours of nighttime driving ahead of us, but I did enjoy a snifter of the Hand of Doom, which is founder's double IPA aged, once again, in Bourbon barrels (definitely a signature of the brewery). It was enormous - huge hops, huge fruit, big funk and pronounced alcohol (10.4% ABV). Evidently, it is not bottled, so we were glad we got to experience it at the source. There were many, many other fascinating-sounding beers on the blackboard, so we made a mental note to come back (the annual release of KBS in March is supposed to be worth attending), and 130 miles later, were back in Ann Arbor.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Road Trip 2009, Day One, Part II
Late afternoon found me heading North-West along a stretch of US-40 I had driven before. I took it as far as Uniontown, PA, stopping along the way at General Braddock's grave. Even though I live within easy reach of Braddock Road in Alexandria, 
I never knew who Braddock was, and had always assumed he was a Civil War hero. Turns out he was a British general during the French and Indian Wars of the 1750s. Washington was a colonel under him. Braddock was fatally wounded in a failed raid on Fort Duquesne 
(modern-day Pittsburgh) in 1755, and died as his troops retreated along the route I was now driving. He was buried in an unmarked grave to prevent local Indians from discovering and desecrating it. In the early 1800s, the grave was discovered, Braddock's remains exhumed and moved fifty or so paces closer to the road, where a monument now stands. During the ten minutes or so I spent at the site reading the plaques and displays, I was the only visitor.
I reached Uniontown, which I had also visited before, and which claims to have been founded on July 4th, 1776, a little before six. Its small downtown looks and feels more prosperous than one might expect, owing no doubt to its proximity to some luxury mountain resorts in the area as well as Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater. I was tempted to stop and walk around a bit, but decided to press on to Pittsburgh in the interest of time. Heading directly North on PA-51 through a part of the state rich in auto repair shops and purveyors of lawn equipment, I was within city limits in a little under an hour.
Downtown Pittsburgh is respectably sized and infamously canyon-like, and urban renewal of the 1950s did not do it any favors, surrounding it on all sides with a tightly-woven net of highways and ramps like a giant squid choking a whale, but I managed to find my hotel - the Pittsburgh Doubletree (1 Bigelow Sq.) where Hotwire.com had put me - with fewer than a dozen wrong turns and without crossing either of the city's two rivers unnecessarily. Checked-in and cleaned up, I headed to dinner at a place that J. and I first tried when we were in Pittsburgh a couple of years ago, and that has a bit of a legendary status in beer circles - the Church Brew Works (3525 Liberty Ave.) in the Strip district.
Built as the church of St. John the Baptist in 1902, the building was deconsecrated in 1993 and opened as a brewery and restaurant three years later. When a good friend originally recommended the place several years ago, I was mostly intrigued by the concept - it is always gratifying to see religion's most wasteful and self-indulgent aspect turned on its head and used for what's truly important. The fact that the mash tuns and fermentation tanks are located where the altar had once been only added to the appeal. Having been there twice now, however, I must say the excitement has worn thin. It's impossible to make a space of that size and scale feel quaint and intimate -- required attributes of a good pub, and while certainly unlike anything else, the Church did not feel particularly inviting on this visit. The beers were mostly good, but not particularly unique, and in one case downright disappointing.
I started with a Thunder Hop IPA, which was an excellent exponent of its style. More bitter than floral in its hop flavor, it was big and tasted exceptionally fresh. Thanks to the generous dry-hopping, the nose was huge and fragrant. Delicious all around. I moved on to their Breakfast Stout. Brewed with six kinds of malt plus oats and sweetened with milk sugar in a quasi-Belgian twist, it was very rich and relatively sweet, but still well-balanced, probably due to the coffee added to the beer after fermentation. In fact, the flavor was surprisingly subtle for something that has both coffee and oats. I liked it. My dessert - I could sample to my heart's content thanks to Doubletree's city-wide free shuttle - was a goblet of Millenium Trippel. This was the disappointment. Though it looked the part, it was one-dimensionally sweet. The best Belgian (and a small handful of American) triples are sweet to be sure, but something about the yeast strains used to make the good ones balances out the flavor - something that the Church's brewers completely missed. The beer was cloying. To accompany the beers, I ordered a bowl of chile pork stew which was surprisingly respectable, though not nearly spicy enough for something that has the word "chile" in the name.
It was quite late by the time I was done, and, having armed myself with the bartender's recommendation for a breakfast spot, I returned to the hotel and turned in in anticipation of another long day of driving.
I never knew who Braddock was, and had always assumed he was a Civil War hero. Turns out he was a British general during the French and Indian Wars of the 1750s. Washington was a colonel under him. Braddock was fatally wounded in a failed raid on Fort Duquesne 
(modern-day Pittsburgh) in 1755, and died as his troops retreated along the route I was now driving. He was buried in an unmarked grave to prevent local Indians from discovering and desecrating it. In the early 1800s, the grave was discovered, Braddock's remains exhumed and moved fifty or so paces closer to the road, where a monument now stands. During the ten minutes or so I spent at the site reading the plaques and displays, I was the only visitor.I reached Uniontown, which I had also visited before, and which claims to have been founded on July 4th, 1776, a little before six. Its small downtown looks and feels more prosperous than one might expect, owing no doubt to its proximity to some luxury mountain resorts in the area as well as Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater. I was tempted to stop and walk around a bit, but decided to press on to Pittsburgh in the interest of time. Heading directly North on PA-51 through a part of the state rich in auto repair shops and purveyors of lawn equipment, I was within city limits in a little under an hour.
Downtown Pittsburgh is respectably sized and infamously canyon-like, and urban renewal of the 1950s did not do it any favors, surrounding it on all sides with a tightly-woven net of highways and ramps like a giant squid choking a whale, but I managed to find my hotel - the Pittsburgh Doubletree (1 Bigelow Sq.) where Hotwire.com had put me - with fewer than a dozen wrong turns and without crossing either of the city's two rivers unnecessarily. Checked-in and cleaned up, I headed to dinner at a place that J. and I first tried when we were in Pittsburgh a couple of years ago, and that has a bit of a legendary status in beer circles - the Church Brew Works (3525 Liberty Ave.) in the Strip district.
Built as the church of St. John the Baptist in 1902, the building was deconsecrated in 1993 and opened as a brewery and restaurant three years later. When a good friend originally recommended the place several years ago, I was mostly intrigued by the concept - it is always gratifying to see religion's most wasteful and self-indulgent aspect turned on its head and used for what's truly important. The fact that the mash tuns and fermentation tanks are located where the altar had once been only added to the appeal. Having been there twice now, however, I must say the excitement has worn thin. It's impossible to make a space of that size and scale feel quaint and intimate -- required attributes of a good pub, and while certainly unlike anything else, the Church did not feel particularly inviting on this visit. The beers were mostly good, but not particularly unique, and in one case downright disappointing.
I started with a Thunder Hop IPA, which was an excellent exponent of its style. More bitter than floral in its hop flavor, it was big and tasted exceptionally fresh. Thanks to the generous dry-hopping, the nose was huge and fragrant. Delicious all around. I moved on to their Breakfast Stout. Brewed with six kinds of malt plus oats and sweetened with milk sugar in a quasi-Belgian twist, it was very rich and relatively sweet, but still well-balanced, probably due to the coffee added to the beer after fermentation. In fact, the flavor was surprisingly subtle for something that has both coffee and oats. I liked it. My dessert - I could sample to my heart's content thanks to Doubletree's city-wide free shuttle - was a goblet of Millenium Trippel. This was the disappointment. Though it looked the part, it was one-dimensionally sweet. The best Belgian (and a small handful of American) triples are sweet to be sure, but something about the yeast strains used to make the good ones balances out the flavor - something that the Church's brewers completely missed. The beer was cloying. To accompany the beers, I ordered a bowl of chile pork stew which was surprisingly respectable, though not nearly spicy enough for something that has the word "chile" in the name.
It was quite late by the time I was done, and, having armed myself with the bartender's recommendation for a breakfast spot, I returned to the hotel and turned in in anticipation of another long day of driving.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Catching up
A few brief notes on recent things, for lack of a better word, that I haven't written up in a more timely manner
Céline
Finally finished Céline's Death on the Installment Plan. A slog if ever there was one. It had its moments, no doubt about it. The English boarding school, and especially its headmaster, were exquisitely chilling and powerful. Some characters, too, are priceless, or almost - in addition to the headmaster, De Pereires was downright cinematic. Every scene that involved him I could imagine on screen. On balance, however, the book got to be too much too quickly - when I've had enough, I realized I still had several hundred pages to go. Celine pushes the envelope, then pushes it some more. After a while, you just want to say, "Ok, I get the point. Let's move the story forward a little now, shall we?" But he spends a dozen more pages pushing the same envelope. Yes, when the book was first written, this was innovative, sensational, even scandalous. Perhaps this, like Sinclair Lewis's Babbitt (albeit for completely different reasons) is another example of a good book that did not age well.
Dogfish Head Grau Dunkel
J. and I go to the beach at Cape Henlopen, DE once or twice every summer, and like to stop at the original Dogfish Head brewpub in Rehoboth afterwards. They usually have one or two beers that are difficult, or in some cases impossible, to get anywhere else. This time, I tried Grau Dunkelwessenberg - a German-Belgian mongrel of a brew made with a mixture of wheat, rye and barley, some of which is smoked. Really smoked. I was not taking notes, so I can't give a formal review here. Suffice it to say that it had a serious bacon thing going on. Unique, but not necessarily delicious.
Dogfish Head Sah'tea
Another one of their exotic limited edition brews, I brought this one home in a bottle and opened it with my friend C.M. a couple of weeks later. It appears to belong to the series of reproductions of ostensibly ancient recipes that they started a few years ago with Chateau Jiahu. This one apparently takes its inspiration from an ancient Finnish proto-beer called Sahti, and Dogfish-Heads it with the addition of spiced chai tea. I did take some notes on this one, so:
Appearance: Slightly reddish caramel color. Murky. Thin head, dissipates quickly.
Nose: Nutmeg, allspice, overripe fruit.
Palate: Bananas. Bananas. A bit of tartness on the back palate, but not enough to balance things. Oh, did I mention bananas?
C.M. gave it a qualified endorsement by saying it was kind of like a hefeweizen without the bad parts. Another beer I am glad I tried but probably would not seek out again.
Nils-Petter Molvaer and Arve Henriksen
I really waited way too long to write this one up, and it really deserved a proper entry of its own. The Embassies of Sweden, Finland and Iceland held a week-long Nordic Jazz Festival in early June, and one of the shows featured Norwegian trumpeters Nils-Petter Molvaer and Arve Henriksen. They both hardly ever play in the US, so of course I had to go hear them. It was absolutely riveting. The show was long and featured two other bands, both led by young unknowns, so both NPM and Henriksen were sandwiched into the middle hour, which I thought was weird, because both musicians are masters of the long form, so to speak, and because NPM at least is a mega-star in Norway, and I was frankly surprised that he condescended to play for a half-hour in the atrium of an embassy. Henriksen went on first with his long-time collaborator Jan Bang, who worked the electronics. Henriksen would play, or sing, a phrase, which Bang sampled in real time (onto something that used floppy disks - I saw him swapping floppies throughout the performance), then altered it electronically, also in real time, to provide a background for Henriksen's subsequent phrases. It was breathtaking. NPM went on half-way through while Henriksen and Bang were still on stage and matched a long droning note of Henriksen's for a few seconds, allowing him and Bang to walk off. NPM, with two other guys accompanying, then proceeded to play a few typically NPM-esque tunes - heavy drum-n-bass beat and loopy electronics supporting an absolutely ethereal trumpet. I did not recognize the tunes, but it was sublime nevertheless. Musical experience of the year.
Céline
Finally finished Céline's Death on the Installment Plan. A slog if ever there was one. It had its moments, no doubt about it. The English boarding school, and especially its headmaster, were exquisitely chilling and powerful. Some characters, too, are priceless, or almost - in addition to the headmaster, De Pereires was downright cinematic. Every scene that involved him I could imagine on screen. On balance, however, the book got to be too much too quickly - when I've had enough, I realized I still had several hundred pages to go. Celine pushes the envelope, then pushes it some more. After a while, you just want to say, "Ok, I get the point. Let's move the story forward a little now, shall we?" But he spends a dozen more pages pushing the same envelope. Yes, when the book was first written, this was innovative, sensational, even scandalous. Perhaps this, like Sinclair Lewis's Babbitt (albeit for completely different reasons) is another example of a good book that did not age well.
Dogfish Head Grau Dunkel
J. and I go to the beach at Cape Henlopen, DE once or twice every summer, and like to stop at the original Dogfish Head brewpub in Rehoboth afterwards. They usually have one or two beers that are difficult, or in some cases impossible, to get anywhere else. This time, I tried Grau Dunkelwessenberg - a German-Belgian mongrel of a brew made with a mixture of wheat, rye and barley, some of which is smoked. Really smoked. I was not taking notes, so I can't give a formal review here. Suffice it to say that it had a serious bacon thing going on. Unique, but not necessarily delicious.
Dogfish Head Sah'tea
Another one of their exotic limited edition brews, I brought this one home in a bottle and opened it with my friend C.M. a couple of weeks later. It appears to belong to the series of reproductions of ostensibly ancient recipes that they started a few years ago with Chateau Jiahu. This one apparently takes its inspiration from an ancient Finnish proto-beer called Sahti, and Dogfish-Heads it with the addition of spiced chai tea. I did take some notes on this one, so:
Appearance: Slightly reddish caramel color. Murky. Thin head, dissipates quickly.
Nose: Nutmeg, allspice, overripe fruit.
Palate: Bananas. Bananas. A bit of tartness on the back palate, but not enough to balance things. Oh, did I mention bananas?
C.M. gave it a qualified endorsement by saying it was kind of like a hefeweizen without the bad parts. Another beer I am glad I tried but probably would not seek out again.
Nils-Petter Molvaer and Arve Henriksen
I really waited way too long to write this one up, and it really deserved a proper entry of its own. The Embassies of Sweden, Finland and Iceland held a week-long Nordic Jazz Festival in early June, and one of the shows featured Norwegian trumpeters Nils-Petter Molvaer and Arve Henriksen. They both hardly ever play in the US, so of course I had to go hear them. It was absolutely riveting. The show was long and featured two other bands, both led by young unknowns, so both NPM and Henriksen were sandwiched into the middle hour, which I thought was weird, because both musicians are masters of the long form, so to speak, and because NPM at least is a mega-star in Norway, and I was frankly surprised that he condescended to play for a half-hour in the atrium of an embassy. Henriksen went on first with his long-time collaborator Jan Bang, who worked the electronics. Henriksen would play, or sing, a phrase, which Bang sampled in real time (onto something that used floppy disks - I saw him swapping floppies throughout the performance), then altered it electronically, also in real time, to provide a background for Henriksen's subsequent phrases. It was breathtaking. NPM went on half-way through while Henriksen and Bang were still on stage and matched a long droning note of Henriksen's for a few seconds, allowing him and Bang to walk off. NPM, with two other guys accompanying, then proceeded to play a few typically NPM-esque tunes - heavy drum-n-bass beat and loopy electronics supporting an absolutely ethereal trumpet. I did not recognize the tunes, but it was sublime nevertheless. Musical experience of the year.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Henry Louis Gates
Glad to see someone is paying attention to the important stuff, although I kinda disagree with him on Red Stripe.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Miscellaneous Beers
Some tasting notes from beers I’ve tried over the last couple of months, but haven’t had a chance to write up until now.
Flying Dog Kerberos Triple
Appearance: Almost orange color. Murky, but noticeably clearer than my reference American Triple – Victory Golden Monkey. No head to speak of.
Nose: Fresh, grassy, slightly metallic. A little caramel in there somewhere.
Palate: Subtle. A little sweetness, but not clying. A touch of hops is noticeable – slightly more than Golden Monkey, especially on the finish.
Comments: The understated Triple. My initial reaction was to be disappointed, but it grew on me. Not very memorable, but pleasant while you’re drinking it.
Flying Dog Dogtoberfest
Appearance: Gorgeous reddish amber color. No head – completely flat.
Nose: Flowers. Slightly sweet. A touch of strawberry? No yeasty smell at all.
Palate: Smooth, slightly metallic mouthfeel. Good balance. Hoppier than classic German Oktoberfests. Long finish.
Comments: Delicious. I could drink way too much of this stuff.
Gouden Carolus Chrismtas Ale 2008
Appearance: Mahogany, very dark amber. Light head with a few medium-sized bubbles.
Nose: Molasses with a bit of smoke. (Mesquite? Maybe it’s all those years in Arizona talking).
Palate: Creamy but not syrupy. Tootsie Roll. Sweet. Can definitely taste the alcohol (ABV is 10%). Vanilla? Complex, deep flavor.
Comments: Definitely a once a year indulgence. Screams for a fireplace.
Weihenstephan Dark Hefeweisen
Appearance: Murky medium brown. Huge foamy head.
Nose: Yeast, unbaked bread, just a touch of barnyardy funk.
Palate: Smooth. Medium weight. A bit dense. Tastes like the wheat beer that it is. Tangier than a regular hefeweisen. A touch of brown sugar?
Comments: Tasty, but not as refreshing as a real hefeweisen.
Flying Dog Kerberos Triple
Appearance: Almost orange color. Murky, but noticeably clearer than my reference American Triple – Victory Golden Monkey. No head to speak of.
Nose: Fresh, grassy, slightly metallic. A little caramel in there somewhere.
Palate: Subtle. A little sweetness, but not clying. A touch of hops is noticeable – slightly more than Golden Monkey, especially on the finish.
Comments: The understated Triple. My initial reaction was to be disappointed, but it grew on me. Not very memorable, but pleasant while you’re drinking it.
Flying Dog Dogtoberfest
Appearance: Gorgeous reddish amber color. No head – completely flat.
Nose: Flowers. Slightly sweet. A touch of strawberry? No yeasty smell at all.
Palate: Smooth, slightly metallic mouthfeel. Good balance. Hoppier than classic German Oktoberfests. Long finish.
Comments: Delicious. I could drink way too much of this stuff.
Gouden Carolus Chrismtas Ale 2008
Appearance: Mahogany, very dark amber. Light head with a few medium-sized bubbles.
Nose: Molasses with a bit of smoke. (Mesquite? Maybe it’s all those years in Arizona talking).
Palate: Creamy but not syrupy. Tootsie Roll. Sweet. Can definitely taste the alcohol (ABV is 10%). Vanilla? Complex, deep flavor.
Comments: Definitely a once a year indulgence. Screams for a fireplace.
Weihenstephan Dark Hefeweisen
Appearance: Murky medium brown. Huge foamy head.
Nose: Yeast, unbaked bread, just a touch of barnyardy funk.
Palate: Smooth. Medium weight. A bit dense. Tastes like the wheat beer that it is. Tangier than a regular hefeweisen. A touch of brown sugar?
Comments: Tasty, but not as refreshing as a real hefeweisen.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Dogfish Head
Went to the beach at Cape Henlopen, DE on Saturday. Our friend K.L. came along. The beach itself is not really worth writing about – we got there early, the weather was excellent, and we had a great time. Saw two pods of dolphins, one quite close to shore. I went for a run along the beach, which was a nice change from my usual asphalt-bound running routine, though I only covered a mile and a half at most. Our only misadventure was a rogue wave that soaked most of our stuff and killed my portable CD player in late afternoon as the tide was coming up.
Afterwards, we drove into the town of Rehoboth Beach proper, as we usually do, and stopped in at the original Dogfish Head, where I had a Palo Santo Marron, their latest extreme concoction. I had tried it once before at an event, but here I was able to focus and taste it properly. It was absolutely delicious. Dark, with a pronounced head, it looks like a stout, but was really its own animal. At 12% ABV, its strength is in the barley wine territory, but it is far less sweet. The flavor is smoky, resiny, and perfectly balanced between all basic flavors. On the nose – and this is going to sound bizarre, I know – it made me think of beef jerky. All in all, a delicious brew.
Unfortunately, we also made a mistake of eating dinner at Dogfish Head, and the food was as disappointing as it had been in the past, contrary to the rumors that things have improved in the kitchen. We are finally swearing it off for good. The service was so slow, that by the time we were done, there wasn't time left to walk around the town, and we got in the car and drove home.
Afterwards, we drove into the town of Rehoboth Beach proper, as we usually do, and stopped in at the original Dogfish Head, where I had a Palo Santo Marron, their latest extreme concoction. I had tried it once before at an event, but here I was able to focus and taste it properly. It was absolutely delicious. Dark, with a pronounced head, it looks like a stout, but was really its own animal. At 12% ABV, its strength is in the barley wine territory, but it is far less sweet. The flavor is smoky, resiny, and perfectly balanced between all basic flavors. On the nose – and this is going to sound bizarre, I know – it made me think of beef jerky. All in all, a delicious brew.
Unfortunately, we also made a mistake of eating dinner at Dogfish Head, and the food was as disappointing as it had been in the past, contrary to the rumors that things have improved in the kitchen. We are finally swearing it off for good. The service was so slow, that by the time we were done, there wasn't time left to walk around the town, and we got in the car and drove home.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Savor
Last Friday, C.S., his friend D.G. whom I also know, and I attended Savor: An American Craft Beer and Food Experience, held at the Mellon Auditorium on Constitution Ave. It had its merits, but in the end I must say I was disappointed.
Like any grassroots and largely artisanal undertaking that is fortunate enough to achieve some commercial success, the US microbreweries are displaying telltale signs of not being sure how to manage being a little too big for their britches. The first of these is calling itself an industry. A few short years ago, it was still the simply the “beer scene,” but now it is a Craft Brewing Industry. The second is attempting to muscle in on markets traditionally occupied by other products, hence the recent drive to market complex, distinctive beers as alternatives to wine, to be consumed with gourmet meals. And closely related to this is the increased reliance on the professional marketing circus to find new and impressive ways to hawk their wares. Hence this was no mere tasting, but an Experience. I suppose we have Jimi Hendrix to thank for rendering the word incapable of carrying any actual meaning.
There is also an obvious desire to go upmarket, to sell to consumers who in the past might have regarded your product as beneath them on a socioeconomic level, and the concomitant increase in price. I don't normally object to this as long as I feel like I am still getting my money's worth, but on Friday that was the biggest problem – the tickets, at $85, were simply too expensive for what we ended up getting. To be sure, it didn't seem so initially. C.S. did an excellent sales job on me, but I certainly was a willing buyer, too. It sure looked like that we were going to get our money's worth. Here were those marketing shenanigans again.
The idea behind the event was to demonstrate how well craft beers pair with food. Fifty or so breweries brought two beers each, every beer paired with a complementary small plate. In addition, there were optional sit-down tastings where you could focus on a few pairings in greater depth in a more intimate setting.
The evening was off to a decent start: we attended one of these optional tastings that was hosted by Garrett Oliver and focused on pairing beer and cheese. Oliver is the founder of Brooklyn Brewery, the author of The Brewmaster's Table, and the self-appointed elder statesman of beer and food pairing. He is a decent speaker – a little lectury and overanalyzing at times, he could also be engaging and funny. The beers and cheeses were all excellent. The highlights for me were a washed rind cheese called Hooligan from Cato Corner in Connecticut paired with Two Brothers' Domaine Dupage (a French Farmhouse-style ale; I had no idea such a thing existed) and the legendary Brillat-Savarin triple-cream paired with Oliver's own Local One. He talked up his serendipitous discovery of the pairing of stilton and a chocolate stout, but I was less impressed. Definitely a pairing of contrast rather than harmony.
A few minutes after 8:00, we emerged onto the main floor and discovered the problem. The so-called small plates were indeed small. Tiny, in fact, more like amuse-bouches than real food. Think crackers or mini-toasts with bits of things on them. Many beers were paired with chocolates. Delicious no doubt, but not real food. The beer samples, on the other hand, were quite generous, and though many brewers brought their least-interesting, most mainstream offerings (why would you go to a tasting to drink Sierra Nevada Pale Ale when you can get a pint at your neighborhood watering hole?), there were enough doubles, triples, strong ales and barley wines to keep beer geeks happy. Even the hardiest of drinkers, however, can absorb only so much of this bounty of malt and hops before they need some solid sustenance. A lot of solid sustenance. Much more than the event's organizers envisioned. Most of it consumed – you guessed it – during the hour my friends and I were sequestered in the back room tasting cheese with Oliver. People were double-, triple- and quadruple-dipping until there was nothing left.
By the time we left around 10:00, having tasted a dozen or so beers apiece, we were quite buzzed and ravenously hungry. Ridiculous as it sounds, we walked the few blocks to Harry's and had a late dinner of surprisingly decent burgers.
Bottom line: Beer: 4/5; Food: 1/5. Value for the money: 1/5.
Some highlights:
Russian River Pliny the Elder. Enormous double-IPA with a fragrant, wonderfully floral hops aroma along the lines of Clipper City's Loose Canon.
Flying Dog Kerberos Triple, a deep, rich Belgian-style triple that might unseat the Victory Golden Monkey, my current reference for American triples.
Deschutes Obsidian Stout. Chocolatey and dry at the same time, delicious all around.
Pelican Doryman's Dark Ale and Le Pelican Brun: both were well-crafted and drier than the standard for their style, from a small brewery in Oregon I had not heard of before.
Pizza Port Brewing Veritas 003. A skull-splitting blend of a several of their Belgian-style ales, all made with brettanomyces and aged in oak barrels. Not for the faint of heart.
Dud of the evening: 21st Amendment Watermelon Wheat. Sold in cans, it tasted like the bad idea it was.
Like any grassroots and largely artisanal undertaking that is fortunate enough to achieve some commercial success, the US microbreweries are displaying telltale signs of not being sure how to manage being a little too big for their britches. The first of these is calling itself an industry. A few short years ago, it was still the simply the “beer scene,” but now it is a Craft Brewing Industry. The second is attempting to muscle in on markets traditionally occupied by other products, hence the recent drive to market complex, distinctive beers as alternatives to wine, to be consumed with gourmet meals. And closely related to this is the increased reliance on the professional marketing circus to find new and impressive ways to hawk their wares. Hence this was no mere tasting, but an Experience. I suppose we have Jimi Hendrix to thank for rendering the word incapable of carrying any actual meaning.
There is also an obvious desire to go upmarket, to sell to consumers who in the past might have regarded your product as beneath them on a socioeconomic level, and the concomitant increase in price. I don't normally object to this as long as I feel like I am still getting my money's worth, but on Friday that was the biggest problem – the tickets, at $85, were simply too expensive for what we ended up getting. To be sure, it didn't seem so initially. C.S. did an excellent sales job on me, but I certainly was a willing buyer, too. It sure looked like that we were going to get our money's worth. Here were those marketing shenanigans again.
The idea behind the event was to demonstrate how well craft beers pair with food. Fifty or so breweries brought two beers each, every beer paired with a complementary small plate. In addition, there were optional sit-down tastings where you could focus on a few pairings in greater depth in a more intimate setting.
The evening was off to a decent start: we attended one of these optional tastings that was hosted by Garrett Oliver and focused on pairing beer and cheese. Oliver is the founder of Brooklyn Brewery, the author of The Brewmaster's Table, and the self-appointed elder statesman of beer and food pairing. He is a decent speaker – a little lectury and overanalyzing at times, he could also be engaging and funny. The beers and cheeses were all excellent. The highlights for me were a washed rind cheese called Hooligan from Cato Corner in Connecticut paired with Two Brothers' Domaine Dupage (a French Farmhouse-style ale; I had no idea such a thing existed) and the legendary Brillat-Savarin triple-cream paired with Oliver's own Local One. He talked up his serendipitous discovery of the pairing of stilton and a chocolate stout, but I was less impressed. Definitely a pairing of contrast rather than harmony.
A few minutes after 8:00, we emerged onto the main floor and discovered the problem. The so-called small plates were indeed small. Tiny, in fact, more like amuse-bouches than real food. Think crackers or mini-toasts with bits of things on them. Many beers were paired with chocolates. Delicious no doubt, but not real food. The beer samples, on the other hand, were quite generous, and though many brewers brought their least-interesting, most mainstream offerings (why would you go to a tasting to drink Sierra Nevada Pale Ale when you can get a pint at your neighborhood watering hole?), there were enough doubles, triples, strong ales and barley wines to keep beer geeks happy. Even the hardiest of drinkers, however, can absorb only so much of this bounty of malt and hops before they need some solid sustenance. A lot of solid sustenance. Much more than the event's organizers envisioned. Most of it consumed – you guessed it – during the hour my friends and I were sequestered in the back room tasting cheese with Oliver. People were double-, triple- and quadruple-dipping until there was nothing left.
By the time we left around 10:00, having tasted a dozen or so beers apiece, we were quite buzzed and ravenously hungry. Ridiculous as it sounds, we walked the few blocks to Harry's and had a late dinner of surprisingly decent burgers.
Bottom line: Beer: 4/5; Food: 1/5. Value for the money: 1/5.
Some highlights:
Russian River Pliny the Elder. Enormous double-IPA with a fragrant, wonderfully floral hops aroma along the lines of Clipper City's Loose Canon.
Flying Dog Kerberos Triple, a deep, rich Belgian-style triple that might unseat the Victory Golden Monkey, my current reference for American triples.
Deschutes Obsidian Stout. Chocolatey and dry at the same time, delicious all around.
Pelican Doryman's Dark Ale and Le Pelican Brun: both were well-crafted and drier than the standard for their style, from a small brewery in Oregon I had not heard of before.
Pizza Port Brewing Veritas 003. A skull-splitting blend of a several of their Belgian-style ales, all made with brettanomyces and aged in oak barrels. Not for the faint of heart.
Dud of the evening: 21st Amendment Watermelon Wheat. Sold in cans, it tasted like the bad idea it was.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Some tasting notes
Here are some tasting notes for a few beers that I have collected over the last several weeks and haven't had a chance to write up until now.
Green Flash Trippel
8.5% ABV. Darker than most triples, sort of peach-colored. Pours with a thick, dense, almost white and very vigirous head. Yeasty and slightly musty on the nose, with hints of perfume. Fairly creamy on the palate, with a pronounced flavor of dried fruit. Beautifully balanced, not too sweet, not too bitter, with a very long finish. Two thumbs up.
Smuttynose Barleywine
ABV not listed, not even on the brewery's website, but tastes strong as a barleywine should. My estimate is around 9-10%. Fairly dark reddish-brown color. Not much in the way of head. Quite hoppy on the nose, but with a strong fruity character, especially raisins. A little musty. Hoppy bitterness on the palate (by barleywine standards, anyway). Acquired a metallic taste when served with very sweet things (I tried dried fig). On the other hand, delicious with a washed rind cheese.
Flying Dog Imperial Porter
9.2% ABV – Imperial indeed. Almost black color. Short beige head, dissipated quickly. Rye bread and molasses on the nose. Exquisitely balanced on the palate, very long finish. Smoother than a beer of this strength ought to be.
Fiddler's Green IPA
ABV not listed, but doesn't taste that strong. My estimate is no more than 6.5%, probably less. Clear amber color. Thick head, but dissipated very quickly. Very fizzy. Slightly sweet on the nose. Pronounced honey flavor on the palate. Not nearly hoppy enough for an IPA. Pleasant, inoffensive, decent everyday quaff, but not that distinctive. Apparently, this stuff is made by F.X. Matt in Utica, NY, where Saranac and Utica Club are also made.
Green Flash Trippel
8.5% ABV. Darker than most triples, sort of peach-colored. Pours with a thick, dense, almost white and very vigirous head. Yeasty and slightly musty on the nose, with hints of perfume. Fairly creamy on the palate, with a pronounced flavor of dried fruit. Beautifully balanced, not too sweet, not too bitter, with a very long finish. Two thumbs up.
Smuttynose Barleywine
ABV not listed, not even on the brewery's website, but tastes strong as a barleywine should. My estimate is around 9-10%. Fairly dark reddish-brown color. Not much in the way of head. Quite hoppy on the nose, but with a strong fruity character, especially raisins. A little musty. Hoppy bitterness on the palate (by barleywine standards, anyway). Acquired a metallic taste when served with very sweet things (I tried dried fig). On the other hand, delicious with a washed rind cheese.
Flying Dog Imperial Porter
9.2% ABV – Imperial indeed. Almost black color. Short beige head, dissipated quickly. Rye bread and molasses on the nose. Exquisitely balanced on the palate, very long finish. Smoother than a beer of this strength ought to be.
Fiddler's Green IPA
ABV not listed, but doesn't taste that strong. My estimate is no more than 6.5%, probably less. Clear amber color. Thick head, but dissipated very quickly. Very fizzy. Slightly sweet on the nose. Pronounced honey flavor on the palate. Not nearly hoppy enough for an IPA. Pleasant, inoffensive, decent everyday quaff, but not that distinctive. Apparently, this stuff is made by F.X. Matt in Utica, NY, where Saranac and Utica Club are also made.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Strong Beers Tasting
Went to the Strong Beers tasting at the Brickskeller last night with C.S. and a few of his friends. It's been a while since I've attended one of their tastings. It seemed smaller and more quiet than in years past, but it may have been due to the theme of this particular tasting -- these were not your everyday beers. To some extent they are experiments on the part of their respective brewers who want to see how far they can push the envelope. They were all very strong, sometimes overpowering, both in alcohol and flavor, intense winter seasonal brews. All tended to de-epmphasize the fresh, floral hoppiness of classic American microbrews and were, to a greater or lesser degree, sweet. There were only two beers that I could see myself drinking in any quantity. All breweries were more or less local to the Washington-Baltimore area. What follows are my highly unscientific observations about each one, in order in which they were served.
Gordon Biersch (Rockville, MD) Alte Bock
Style: Single Bock (German ale). 6.5% ABV. Dark tan color. Cloudy appearance. Not much of a nose. Reasonably balanced on the palate, creamy feel, fairly dry compared to the rest, with reasonably pronounced hops. The least intimidating and one of two most drinkable of the bunch. Soon to be available on draft at GB Rockville.
Brewer's Alley (Frederick, MD) Scotch Ale
Style: Scotch Ale. 8% ABV. Reddish color. Nose is initially sweet, eventually I thought I detected some gingerbread and prunes. Sweet on the palate, no hops, no bitterness, but reasonably fruity. A little one-dimensional for my taste, but reasonably well put together. Available now on draft at Brewer's Alley.
Red Brick Station (Baltimore, MD) 2006 Highlander Wee-Heavy
Style: Wee-heavy (Scottish strong ale). 10% ABV. Dark reddish-brown color. Weak nose. Smoky on the palate. Also somewhat bitter, but not a hoppy kind of bitterness. This beer was barrel-aged for four years. Interesting, but I would not want a pint or even a goblet. Current vintage available at Red Brick Station, if memory serves.
Wharf Rat (Baltimore, MD) Hot Monkey Love
Style: Who knows. Probably American strong ale tending towards barley wine. 10% ABV. Dark brown color. Very funky on the nose. First whiff said "dirty kitchen sponge" until I realized that what I was smelling was intense fresh yeast, like a big lump of cake yeast. Also -- go ahead and laugh me out of the house for this (one of C.S.'s friends did) -- I detected some dried bananas. Not the crunchy banana chips you find in trail mix, but the Asian-style ones. They are dried whole until they are rubbery and sticky, and have a distinctive smell (they are very good, by the way). That's what this beer smelled like. On the palate, surprisingly complex and drier than expected, with grassy notes. Maybe some celery. It is brewed with 120 lbs. of clover honey per batch, and wins the award for best name. Way too intense to drink in any quantity. Available (I think) at both Wharf Rat locations.
Gordon Biersch (Washington, DC) Baltic Porter
Style: Dark lager. Apparently, this type of beer was actually somewhat popular at the turn of the last century in certain parts of Central and Eastern Europe -- Northern Poland, Lithuania, Ukraine. It was a local approximation of Russian Imperial Stouts made in England for Russian aristocracy. 8% ABV. Very dark brown color. Strong coffee on the nose. Coffee and chocolate on the palate, with a noticeable Germanic shrimpy notes from the lager yeast. Very drinkable and hands down my favorite of the bunch. Currently on draft at GB DC. I'm going.
District Chop House (Washington, DC) Double Bock
Style: Double Bock. 9.3% ABV. Almost black in color. Plasticky on the nose. Fruity on the palate, but one-dimensionally sweet. None for me, thank you.
Franklin's (Hyattsville, MD) Imperial Stout
Style: Imperial Stout. 10% ABV. Classic stout look -- black. Coffee on the nose, but also very perfumy. Balanced and smooth on the palate. Very impressive, but too strong to drink in quantity. Available for a little while longer on draft at Franklin's.
Sweetwater Tavern (Merrifield, VA) High Desert Imperial Stout
Style: Imperial stout. ABV: neglected to write down. Black color. Slightly smoky and tarry on the nose. Some bitterness on the palate, especially in the finish, but like the Highlander, not a hoppy bitterness. One of C.S.'s friends described it perfectly: blackstrap molasses.
DuClaw (Baltimore, MD) Hybrid Strong Ale
Style: Strong ale/barley wine. ABV: 21.92%. I kid you not. Evidently, it has been independently verified by a lab (hence two decimal places). Clear amber color. Candy on the nose. Cloyingly sweet on the palate -- cola and ripe strawberries. Sheer insanity.
One of the topics of discussion, both in the audience's questions and among the brewers, was the current US hops shortage. A crop failure is sending prices through the roof and making availability tight, but apparently there is a more permanent problem -- hop growers in the Pacific Northwest are tearing out their hop vines and planting apple orchards instead for economic reasons. The brewers tried to put up a front of optimism by saying that other varieties of hops will eventually be grown by others and/or elsewhere, resulting in some interesting new flavors down the line, but I got a sense that they are worried.
Gordon Biersch (Rockville, MD) Alte Bock
Style: Single Bock (German ale). 6.5% ABV. Dark tan color. Cloudy appearance. Not much of a nose. Reasonably balanced on the palate, creamy feel, fairly dry compared to the rest, with reasonably pronounced hops. The least intimidating and one of two most drinkable of the bunch. Soon to be available on draft at GB Rockville.
Brewer's Alley (Frederick, MD) Scotch Ale
Style: Scotch Ale. 8% ABV. Reddish color. Nose is initially sweet, eventually I thought I detected some gingerbread and prunes. Sweet on the palate, no hops, no bitterness, but reasonably fruity. A little one-dimensional for my taste, but reasonably well put together. Available now on draft at Brewer's Alley.
Red Brick Station (Baltimore, MD) 2006 Highlander Wee-Heavy
Style: Wee-heavy (Scottish strong ale). 10% ABV. Dark reddish-brown color. Weak nose. Smoky on the palate. Also somewhat bitter, but not a hoppy kind of bitterness. This beer was barrel-aged for four years. Interesting, but I would not want a pint or even a goblet. Current vintage available at Red Brick Station, if memory serves.
Wharf Rat (Baltimore, MD) Hot Monkey Love
Style: Who knows. Probably American strong ale tending towards barley wine. 10% ABV. Dark brown color. Very funky on the nose. First whiff said "dirty kitchen sponge" until I realized that what I was smelling was intense fresh yeast, like a big lump of cake yeast. Also -- go ahead and laugh me out of the house for this (one of C.S.'s friends did) -- I detected some dried bananas. Not the crunchy banana chips you find in trail mix, but the Asian-style ones. They are dried whole until they are rubbery and sticky, and have a distinctive smell (they are very good, by the way). That's what this beer smelled like. On the palate, surprisingly complex and drier than expected, with grassy notes. Maybe some celery. It is brewed with 120 lbs. of clover honey per batch, and wins the award for best name. Way too intense to drink in any quantity. Available (I think) at both Wharf Rat locations.
Gordon Biersch (Washington, DC) Baltic Porter
Style: Dark lager. Apparently, this type of beer was actually somewhat popular at the turn of the last century in certain parts of Central and Eastern Europe -- Northern Poland, Lithuania, Ukraine. It was a local approximation of Russian Imperial Stouts made in England for Russian aristocracy. 8% ABV. Very dark brown color. Strong coffee on the nose. Coffee and chocolate on the palate, with a noticeable Germanic shrimpy notes from the lager yeast. Very drinkable and hands down my favorite of the bunch. Currently on draft at GB DC. I'm going.
District Chop House (Washington, DC) Double Bock
Style: Double Bock. 9.3% ABV. Almost black in color. Plasticky on the nose. Fruity on the palate, but one-dimensionally sweet. None for me, thank you.
Franklin's (Hyattsville, MD) Imperial Stout
Style: Imperial Stout. 10% ABV. Classic stout look -- black. Coffee on the nose, but also very perfumy. Balanced and smooth on the palate. Very impressive, but too strong to drink in quantity. Available for a little while longer on draft at Franklin's.
Sweetwater Tavern (Merrifield, VA) High Desert Imperial Stout
Style: Imperial stout. ABV: neglected to write down. Black color. Slightly smoky and tarry on the nose. Some bitterness on the palate, especially in the finish, but like the Highlander, not a hoppy bitterness. One of C.S.'s friends described it perfectly: blackstrap molasses.
DuClaw (Baltimore, MD) Hybrid Strong Ale
Style: Strong ale/barley wine. ABV: 21.92%. I kid you not. Evidently, it has been independently verified by a lab (hence two decimal places). Clear amber color. Candy on the nose. Cloyingly sweet on the palate -- cola and ripe strawberries. Sheer insanity.
One of the topics of discussion, both in the audience's questions and among the brewers, was the current US hops shortage. A crop failure is sending prices through the roof and making availability tight, but apparently there is a more permanent problem -- hop growers in the Pacific Northwest are tearing out their hop vines and planting apple orchards instead for economic reasons. The brewers tried to put up a front of optimism by saying that other varieties of hops will eventually be grown by others and/or elsewhere, resulting in some interesting new flavors down the line, but I got a sense that they are worried.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Rustico
Dinner at Rustico with a couple of friends last night. With a perfect combination of creative new cuisine and bar favorites and a beer list that makes the Brickskeller seem old and dusty, it has become one of my favorite restaurants in the area a while ago, and last night only reinforced it. Though I was very tempted by the curry and sweet potato soup, it was a cold and rainy night, and I was in the mood for comfort food, so I opted for pizza. I had had Rustico's pizza before, but for some reason it tasted particularly good last night – the crust had a perfect yeasty chewiness to it, and the anchovies seemed extra plump. Against my better judgment, I ate the entire thing. An even bigger highlight, however, was Gouden Carolus Noël – a Belgian Christmas seasonal ale which I had never had before. Belgian Christmas ales, as much as I like them, can get a little syrupy, but this one was perfectly balanced and far less sweet than I expected. It had a slightly resiny quality and a pronounced flavor of black liquorice. Delicious; strong at 10.5% ABV, but Rustico gave me a sensibly-sized portion in a genuine Gouden Carolus glass. Next winter, I will have to try to find it in a bottle.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Belgian ales
Woo-hoo. I'm finally hip. Evidently, Belgian ales are officially hot. I've been drinking them for years. Now, if I was a real hipster, I would need to stop immediately and find something new to drink. Instead, being the curmudgeonly old man that I am, I am going to continue drinking Belgian ales complaining all the while how trendy nightclubs are driving up the already high prices.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Executive Privilege, Pizza and Beer
I intuitively abhor the Bush-Cheney agenda of unlimited expansion of presidential power, not because I am a tree-hugging pinko commie, but because the balance of powers is a pillar of our democracy. If that's compromised, what's left? Is it also not true, however, that decision making by committee is the most inefficient and ineffective way to make decisions? And what is the US Congress, if not the most extreme expression of just such a form of decision making? So should I not therefore cheer any movement towards curtailing the insanity that is the US Congress's day to day operations, with its oversight hearings, filibustering and back-room dealing? No, of course not -- it all gets back to Winston Churchill in the end.
All this was discussed with C.S. last night over some beer and pizza at Rustico. He pointed out that the extreme form of decision making by committee practiced by the US Congress actually causes some decisions not to be made, and some laws not to be passed, thus helping our entire system to be less unwieldy than it otherwise might, or at least helping it grow more unwieldy at a slightly slower rate. Perhaps.
The beer raised fewer questions -- it was Rustico's bi-monthly glass giveaway, a double feature this time -- Otter Creek and Wolaver's, which have apparently merged. Wolaver's brought a Farmhouse Ale as well as a pale ale supposedly on cask (we didn't try it). Otter Creek had something they called an Australian-style Sparkling Ale, an Oktoberfest and, I think, a brown ale that we didn't try. Of the ones we tried, the Farmhouse was probably the best of the bunch -- fairly funky and barnyard-y, it interpreted its name literally. I expected something along the lines of the Smuttynose Farmhouse (warning: serious beer geek info) which is a Belgian saison-style beer, but this was all good old American micro -- hoppy and dry. Still, distinctive and enjoyable. The Oktoberfest was good as well -- a bit lighter in color and less malty than a typical German Oktoberfest, but definitely a well-crafted brew. Mysteriously, it showed up somewhat warm and flat, English-style. I didn't order the Australian-style stuff (unfortunate name -- I instantly though of the Foster's oil can), but C.S. did, and I tasted a bit. A noble effort, but not my style -- dry, but not particularly hoppy. Kind of creamy and smooth on the palate. And it didn't strike me as any more sparkling than anything else.
The pizza, for once, was almost a complete miss. The combination of ingredients was worthy of California in the early days of Wolfgang Puck: duck confit, cracklins and brie, and in retrospect, there is a good reason why this sort of "experimentation for its own sake" cuisine didn't last. But this is C.S. we're talking about, and if I didn't try this with him, I certainly wouldn't with anyone else. So we ordered it. What showed up was a thick layer of uniform off-white cheese, already rubberizing in the now-cool evening air, sprinkled with an equally uniform layer of crispy brown crumbs. Which was the confit and which were the cracklins,
there was no telling, either by color, texture or flavor. Perhaps a blender was involved. The real offender, however, was the brie -- apparently the kitchen melted it complete, with rind, and while there are very few foods that I truly dislike, brie rind is one of them. The pizza tasted musty and off-putting. Thank goodness for the abundant beer.
All this was discussed with C.S. last night over some beer and pizza at Rustico. He pointed out that the extreme form of decision making by committee practiced by the US Congress actually causes some decisions not to be made, and some laws not to be passed, thus helping our entire system to be less unwieldy than it otherwise might, or at least helping it grow more unwieldy at a slightly slower rate. Perhaps.
The beer raised fewer questions -- it was Rustico's bi-monthly glass giveaway, a double feature this time -- Otter Creek and Wolaver's, which have apparently merged. Wolaver's brought a Farmhouse Ale as well as a pale ale supposedly on cask (we didn't try it). Otter Creek had something they called an Australian-style Sparkling Ale, an Oktoberfest and, I think, a brown ale that we didn't try. Of the ones we tried, the Farmhouse was probably the best of the bunch -- fairly funky and barnyard-y, it interpreted its name literally. I expected something along the lines of the Smuttynose Farmhouse (warning: serious beer geek info) which is a Belgian saison-style beer, but this was all good old American micro -- hoppy and dry. Still, distinctive and enjoyable. The Oktoberfest was good as well -- a bit lighter in color and less malty than a typical German Oktoberfest, but definitely a well-crafted brew. Mysteriously, it showed up somewhat warm and flat, English-style. I didn't order the Australian-style stuff (unfortunate name -- I instantly though of the Foster's oil can), but C.S. did, and I tasted a bit. A noble effort, but not my style -- dry, but not particularly hoppy. Kind of creamy and smooth on the palate. And it didn't strike me as any more sparkling than anything else.
The pizza, for once, was almost a complete miss. The combination of ingredients was worthy of California in the early days of Wolfgang Puck: duck confit, cracklins and brie, and in retrospect, there is a good reason why this sort of "experimentation for its own sake" cuisine didn't last. But this is C.S. we're talking about, and if I didn't try this with him, I certainly wouldn't with anyone else. So we ordered it. What showed up was a thick layer of uniform off-white cheese, already rubberizing in the now-cool evening air, sprinkled with an equally uniform layer of crispy brown crumbs. Which was the confit and which were the cracklins,
there was no telling, either by color, texture or flavor. Perhaps a blender was involved. The real offender, however, was the brie -- apparently the kitchen melted it complete, with rind, and while there are very few foods that I truly dislike, brie rind is one of them. The pizza tasted musty and off-putting. Thank goodness for the abundant beer.
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