SF Beer Week Opening Gala Recap

Friday night’s SF Beer Week Opening Gala hosted an impressive crowd. From causal beer drinkers and professional level connoisseurs, to Mom-and-Dad-on-a-date and monied tech-workers, a wide swath of the city’s thirstiest came out to Pier 48 where over 120 breweries were pouring some of the best beer around.

As doors opened at 5 o’clock, the rather substantial VIP line moved in unison, like a flock of birds, and re-formed in front of the Russian River pouring station. In spite of the growing backlash against manufactured scarcity and people’s willingness to queue up for absurd lengths of time, the allure of their triple IPA, Pliny the Younger, does not seem to have waned. Within minutes there was a couple hundred people, five ounce commemorative glasses in hand, eagerly awaiting a taste of the rarified brew. Things looked to be moving quickly enough, and with just a little more patience I could have sampled the Sonoma brewery’s standout offering, but I had my sights set elsewhere and elected to forego the ancient Roman’s namesake beverage.

After receiving my own glass, and deciding to skip the Pliny, I made my way towards the back of the hangar-like space, wanting to get the lay of the land, but not before grabbing a sample of Moonlight Brewing’s Legal Tender Ale, one of my personal must-trys. This, I think, was a mistake; I was a bit overwhelmed by the size of the building and struggling to take it in. I’d hoped to speak with someone from Mooonlight and ask a few questions about their un-hopped creation, but the moment got the better of me.

My hopes for a discussion about herbal ales vs. gruits dashed, I wolfed down my sample without giving it the consideration I’d intended. This turned out to be a prescient moment; as the night wore on there would be less room to move, and little solace from the din of the crowd. Reflecting on whatever I’d been served became increasingly difficult. This lead to me jotting down confident and nuanced tasting notes like, “Maybe the best smoked beer I’ve ever had?” or “Holy Crap!” Not to say that even under the best of circumstances I’d have penned Master Cicerone style profiles, but I realized early in the evening that given the magnitude of the event, sensory overload would be an issue. It wasn’t long before I abandoned note taking altogether.

I walked the length of the pier, stopping for a sip of Speakeasy’s Popgun Pilsner (oaked and unfiltered for the special occasion) and arrived at the SF Brewer’s Guild booth where they were pouring this year’s collaboration brew, New Frontier, a Kolsch style ale with satsuma and Douglas Fir tips. It was crisp and fruit forward but not cloying, and the evergreen flavors from the fir tips gave it a wonderful finish. It was an early stand out and easily one of the best beers I had all night. New Frontier will be on tap at select locations throughout Beer Week, and is being sold at local Whole Food stores in the bay area. I’m hoping to get my hands on some more before it’s gone forever.

Still shy of six o’clock, I continued surveying the area. Water stations were large and plentiful; food vendors lined an entire wall, and several food trucks were parked just outside on the patio. 4505 Meats was handing out free pork rinds. Best of all, portable toilets occupied a very large space in the back of the building. Fear of breaking the seal and being stuck in line to relieve oneself was not an issue, something I’m told had been a problem in years gone by.

I also spotted San Francisco mayor Ed Lee preparing to give his opening remarks to the swelling crowd. I don’t follow local politics, but from what I gather, his petite, toadstool-esque physique is a rather fitting reflection of his political undertakings. Rather than subject myself to what would likely be inane platitudes about community and such, I moved on to my next taste.

Armed with my list of beers to seek out, I began the processing of crossing off as many as I could. Hop Dogma’s Ol’ Keller, Moylan’s Haze Craze IPA, both went down easy, as I recall. Local Brewing’s Macaroon Pale Ale was good, but ultimately suffered from my own high expectations of a cookie-flavored coconut bomb.

Another standout came early on from New Bohemia Brewing Company out of Santa Cruz in their Light my Fire Smoked Helles. Smoked beers aren’t favored by all, and quite often those who make them tend towards a lighter smoke flavor. Not this one; intense smoke coated everything the way hours sitting next to a camp fire does, yet somehow finished clean. This isn’t a beer for everyone, but fortune favors the bold as they say, and if you like smoked beer, this is a bold one indeed.

One of the beers I’d most anticipated was Laughing Monk’s Peach Pulpit. Unfortunately a line in their jockey box was fouled and they weren’t pouring it when I got to their station. I settled for Coffee and Cream, which turned out to be delicious, and stepped outside for some air. The patio had filled, as had the previously empty picnic tables. Throngs of people were enjoying tacos, burgers, and BBQ. What I couldn’t imagine anyone was enjoying was the line for Pliny the Younger, which now snaked its way outside and more than half way down the length of the pier.

It was after 7 by then, and though there was still plenty of time left in the evening, I did not understand why people were willing to give up so much time for a taster size sample of one beer. There is simply no way to be satisfied with the return on that investment. I’ve had Pliny the Younger and it is very good. But it is not life changing. The skies will not part at first sip, nor will boozy angels sing. Several world class breweries were in attendance, as were dozens and dozens of up-and-comers, pouring a universe of IPA variations: Single, double, and triple. They had dry hops, wet hops, hole cone and cryo-hops. Cascade, Columbus, Simcoe, Citra. Old World, New World, experimental, and noble. Hallertau, Hollerback, added in the boil, added in the keg, pushed through a Randall, and down our greedy throats (I might have made one of those up). What I am trying to say is that if delicious hop bitterness and aroma were what a person sought, it was there for the taking, and without a line.

Sours also played a prominent role that evening, giving the almighty IPA a run for its money as the most represented style. Berkeley’s The Rare Barrel had a consistent but manageable line that depleted their resources quickly, leaving kegs empty and their station unmanned before the clock struck 8. Firestone Walker served two special sours that also garnered a short wait, as did San Francisco’s Thirsty bear, all of which were tart and tasty.

For my money, San Leandro’s Cleophus Quealy ruled both the sours and the night, serving up a beast of a beer in their gin barrel aged Aviato, with cherries, lemons, and violet. It had a complexity unlike anything I’ve ever tasted, but without overwhelming my brutish, untrained palate. I went back for it three times and was no less impressed after every pour. Just dazzling stuff. A trip to their tap room is in short order, and if the work they put on display Friday is indication of the product they are turning out, Cleophus Quealy could be giving The Rare Barrel a run for their money in the East Bay sour game very soon.

All told, the Opening Gala was a tremendous success. Though the crowd was thick, it remained manageable, the atmosphere convivial. I chatted with people, got recommendations about what to try and gave my own in kind. Though walking around with my notepad in hand did garner some curious looks, it gave me direction and prevented aimless wandering; the two days spent studying the list of beers on tap proved well worth my time. I left the event happily buzzed, feeling oddly accomplished, and looking forward to what the rest of SF Beer Week might have to offer.

San Francisco Beer Week Opening Gala: My Five Must-Try Beers

It looks as though I’ll be going to the SF Beer Week Opening Gala after all.* Though I still thoroughly anticipate an event that will try my patience for crowds, and which will be comprised largely of hop-seeking dunderheads, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to get my hands on a ticket and to drink what will surely be some outstanding beers.

In keeping with my year long theme of structured consumption, I’ve set two ground rules for myself. Foremost among them, is no beer that is available year-round shall pass my lips. If it’s not a one-off or special release of some kind, why bother? The point of the whole event is to get beers you can’t find in other places. Second, with a few exceptions, I’ll not drink any IPAs, especially of the double or triple variety. One could spend the evening drinking those alone, but that’s a one-way ticket to oblivion. Tasting 25 XXXIPAs sounds good until you have to get home on the bus, shit-faced and ready to piss yourself. I’m sure the latter will be unavoidable; the former I can likely work around. The notable exception to the IPA proscription is Russian River’s Pliny the Younger; unlike most places pouring it, the line will be short and I’ve not had it in a few years now.

At over 120 breweries strong, the list of beers being tapped this Friday is deep. I’ve spent the last few days combing over it, making list of just under 30 beers to hunt for. To get even that may would be a chore. I’ve narrowed that down further to come up with my top five must-try brews. In no particular order they are as follows:

Ale Industries, Raw Ale. An ale featuring gin influenced botanicals, including bay, rosemary, cardamon, and juniper. Moreover, it’s unboiled (hence the raw part) and has no hops. None. I’ve been studying up on medieval gruits and herbal ales, so this one is of particular interest. As a side note, Ale Industries is a place I’d like to see figure more prominently in the coming year. Nothing is quite true to style, but everything they make is good. On top of that, they’re committed to sourcing materials ethically, and being environmentally sound. Stop by their tap room next time you are in Oakland.
Bear Republic, Tatare Rouge. An American Wild Ale, spontaneously fermented with airborne wild yeast. There is something I love about the idea of literally throwing caution to the wind, and letting nature do what it may. It’s gutsy, it’s different, and it sounds delicious.
Firestone Walker, Agrestic. Another Wild Ale that started its life as FW’s delicious Double Barrel Ale gets transformed by some yeasty magic into something else entirely.
Laughing Monk, Barrel Aged Peach Pulpit. I don’t go in for Belgian beer too much, nor do I really like Chardonnay. But Something about this beer has really caught my eye; a Belgian tripel aged in Wente Vineyard Chardonnay Barrels with peaches. That’s one I have to try.
Moonlight Brewing, Legal Tender Herbal Ale. Another hop-less beer. Though it might seem like I’m waging a personal war on lupulin here, I love hoppy beers as much as anyone. As previously stated though, I’ve been up to my neck in gruit research the last week and really want to see that style realized as best I can. No list of herbs is given for this one, but I’m hoping for bog myrtle to be in the mix.

Other beers that fell short of must-haves, but that I’ll certainly get to include, Eight Bridge’s One Box IPA, Local Brewing’s Macaroon Coconut Oatmeal Pale Ale, Old Bus Tavern’s Wookie’s Delight, Speakeasy’s unfiltered Pop Gun Pilsner, Hop Dogma’s Ol’ Keller, and Moylan’s Haze Craze IPA.

A final brew that bears mentioning is the collaboration done by the San Francisco Brewer’s Guild; a post-modern Kolsch style ale with satsuma and evergreen. Not only does the guild put this whole thing on, but they’re contributing what promises to be one of the more interesting beers served. I can’t wait to try it.

*Special thanks to the amazing Franny Fullpint for the ticket. I don’t deserve such generosity and cannot thank her enough.

Strong Beer Month and SF Beer Week: a Personal Primer for February Brewdiligence

It’s Fe-Brew-ary! At long last that phonetic convention we all use to remember the proper spelling of February has come in handy to make a creampuff of a joke. In addition to facile word play, the second month of the year means two things: strong beer month and the annual San Francisco Beer Week. It’s 28 days of high octane brews with a week of unmitigated celebrating for all things beer thrown in for good measure.

From the 10th through the 19th, SF Beer Week will run beautifully amok, featuring tap-takeovers, unlimited pours, food pairings and dinners, special releases, meet-the-brewer, educational events, and more. In terms of total area, San Francisco is a diminutive city, but within its relatively petite confines you’ll find a densely packed collection of venues to host the afore mentioned festivities. That, coupled with severely inflated tech salaries that give people the financial leeway to guiltlessly drop money on such things, creates a dizzying array of beer-bashes to choose from. Things could get real ugly given a full 31 days. Even a leap-year might get sideways enough to crash Twitter for a few hours.

For my money (what little there is), I tend towards anything with an educational bent, or the what I feel like I can skew in that direction on my own. Mostly I do this because it’s just the way my brain is wired; research, writing, the curating of facts, and what to others seem insufferable and inconsequential minutiae, are what I love most. I’ve been this way my whole life. Anything I have ever taken an interest in has become an object of study. By turning this attitude on Beer Week, and beer drinking in general, I can curb my tendencies towards excess, and avoid fellow beer lovers who strive for it. I would love to hit every all-you-can-drink party throughout the week, but I’ve matured (somewhat lamentably) enough to know that of the 50 plus beers I might be able to try in one place, I’ll stop remembering them at about 15. What’s more, I won’t get bombed enough to think it’s a good idea to start yanking pretzels off the necklaces of strangers who just want to collect commemorative glasses and funnel as many double IPAs as they can. I don’t judge or begrudge that as a Beer Week endgame, but if I go to a talk on sours that is accompanied by a few tastes, odds are strong I’ll meet some like-minded people, learn a little something, and leave reasonably buzzed.

That said, the marquee events that I’ll not be attending without the aid of a benefactor or a press pass both include unlimited pours. Drunken debauchery may be an element at either, but shouldn’t rule the day. A great way to bookend your Beer Week Experience would be to hit these:

The Opening Gala at Pier 48. Over 125 breweries are helping to kick things off. This is sure to be equal part shit-show and best-night-ever, but at between $80 and $120 a ticket, I’ll save my money for something a little less raucous and sidestep possibly falling over a railing into the bay.
The Celebrator Beer News 29th Anniversary Party and Fund Raiser for the California Craft Brewer’s Association. 30 plus breweries will be pouring their best stuff for a crowd that is heavy on industry insiders. The more modest $60 price tag includes food, making this the event to pull the trigger on if you don’t mind paying for it and commuting to the East Bay. Though it does not have an explicitly educational element to it, this is the kind of event where if you keep your ears open and your mouth shut between sips, you will walk away knowing more about craft beer than you did when you arrived, and having met many of the people who make this whole thing go ‘round.

My other two if-money-were-no-object events of choice would be either of the off-flavor courses being offered. Diacetyl? Solvent-like? Buttery flavors in my beer? These are things I know in name alone. I should be thankful that I am not getting spoiled or poorly made beer regularly enough to be personally acquainted with off-flavors, but in my pursuit to be a more educated beer drinker, they are things I should experience first hand and learn to properly identify. If you are inclined to sleep with the enemy, there are a couple of options: A two day, advanced off-flavor course at The Beer Hall, presented by Master Cicerone Rich Higgins, the other at the Drake’s Dealership in Oakland given by cicerone.org. At $85 and $49 respectively, they’re a lot of money to go willingly go taste bad brews, but for a monied beer geek, either would likely be an eye opening experience.

In thinking about off-flavor courses, I began to wonder how they find all the bad beer. Do they actively seek it out and save it for the occasion? I’ve been imagining cicerones bellying up to the bar, ordering pint before exclaiming, “My God, man! This tastes like shit! Can we buy the keg?” Maybe they walk around in search of unkempt looking beer bars and asking questions like, “What have you got that’s chunky and smells like asparagus?” Are they intentionally making small batches of off flavor beer and letting draft lines foul? My guess is that it’s something else entirely, and one of the first things they address will be where they sourced the study materials.

As for the events I’m choosing to attend, most have the educational element I favor. Some of those will put me in proximity to special releases happening that same day. One is just to see friends that are in town for the week. Some of the following may change. I might have to skip something, I might make an impromptu trip to this place or that. So long as I come away from the week feeling as though I’ve gleaned something new from my experiences and not drank myself into a coma or new pant size I’ll be happy. After all, it’s only beer.

My Beer Week Schedule

Friday, February 10 – Lament the fact that I won’t be at the opening gala. Console myself with a couple pints of strong beer (can’t let Strong Beer Month slide by the wayside) at the Magnolia Pub, while keeping in mind that crowds the size of the one to be found at Pier 49 that night are dreadful, and that fear of missing out is for people in their twenties.

Saturday, February 11- Go get my learn on with Ferment Drink Repeat. $20 bucks to try eight beers and have owner/brewer and nationally ranked beer judge Kevin Inglin drop some delicious science on those of us thirsting for knowledge and some his exceptional brews. FDR is probably my favorite brewery in the city right now. I could go on at length telling you why, but will save that for another time. Just know this is an essential stop on the San Francisco brewery circuit.

Being at FDR puts me in proximity to Laughing Monk, who are releasing a couple of barrel aged beers that day, including a Belgian Tripel with peaches and aged in Wente Chardonnay barrels (I’m not generally a Belgian guy, but that one has really peaked my interest). Speakeasy isn’t too much farther down the way, and they doing an oak aged, unfiltered version of their Pop Gun Pilsner which also sounds promising. Beyond that I’ll have to resist my urge to push on into the night and catch the bus home to save my energy for Sunday.

Sunday, February 12- SF Beer Week’s Annual Battle of the Guilds. Brewer’s guilds from San Diego, Los Angeles, and San Francisco will come together at Sessions at the Presidio pouring 45 different beers. Guilds are an often overlooked and unheralded part of the craft beer movement; they put together the events we love so much, and generally speaking, work their tails off behind the scenes. I’m particularly excited about this one, knowing I’ll get to see some good friends who are in town for the occasion. The beer could all be garbage (guaranteed it’ll be the farthest thing from it) and I’d still peg this as the likely high point of my Beer Week experience. Most of the time I skulk around the city alone, a half-drunk lone-wolf stalking fermented prey. I’m grateful to know I’ll have some old friends with me on this day.

Monday, February 13- Weekday outings can be rough for a guy with a day job, so I’m doing my best to keep them simple. On this evening I’ll make my way to the Woods Cerveceria on 18th St. They’re doing Medieval Beverages that night, pouring meads and gruits. The food historian in me is properly geeked for this one; I’ll be giving myself a crash course in medieval ales (really focusing on gruits) in the week beforehand, starting with Beer in the MIddle Ages and the Renaissance by Richard W. Unger.

Time permitting, I might stop by the Social Kitchen and Brewery on my way home for their annual Brett Fest, and have them break me off a piece of some of that funky stuff.

Tuesday, February 14- I’ll likely keep it close to home this night and see what’s happening in the Sunset. A quick trip around the corner gets me to the Sunset Reservoir Brewing Company, and little further down the way I expect the Lawton Taproom to have some Seven Stills beer flowing. From there it’ll just be another couple blocks to the newly opened Woods Beer Co. Outbound post, where they’ll have a special Trouble Coffee infused stout and a coconut pale ale going. Having plotted that out, the better move is to start at Woods and work my way closer to home. As in life, flexibility in Beer Week is key.

Wednesday, February 15- Likely a night off, but a great one to hit would be The Bruery’s Wild and Sour Takeover at The Old Bus Tavern. OBT is one of the best places in the city to eat and still highly underrated, and The Bruery, in my experience, just doesn’t know how to make a bad beer. A perfect pairing for a beer and bite.

Thursday, February 16- The Eagle Rock Brewery takeover at the Social Kitchen and Brewery sounds promising and is close to home, making it the most likely candidate for me. The always awesome Harmonic Brewing is having a band and food pop-up that night in addition to beer specials, and though I probably won’t get there, Old Devil Moon will be pouring the best of breweries from the North Bay.

Friday, February 17- Triple Voodoo Yeast Profile Demonstration. Yeast plays a huge role in beer, yet its nuances remain something of a mystery to most. Save for being able to taste the flavors in Belgian strains, and knowing a bit about the differences between lager and ale yeasts, the little beast that makes beer beer is something I’ve left tragically unexplored.

Using the same base wort, Triple Voodoo is making five different batches with five yeast varieties. What a great opportunity to sit down with a flight and really put some thought into beer’s most crucial ingredient. With the exception of seeing my friends at the Battle of the Guilds, this is the night I’m looking froward to more than any other.

Saturday, February 18- The California Historical Society is showing “Brewers by the Bay” a documentary film about the history of craft beer in San Francisco, followed by a Q&A with director Jared Stutts. This would be a great chance to find some people who share my interest in the historical aspects of this whole endeavor.

All the same, if I haven’t decided to pull the trigger on the Celebrator party by this point, I’ll likely find a place to have a few last day brews and quietly reflect on the week. And by that, I mean I’ll probably put my loftier academic goals aside and get irresponsibly drunk after restraining myself for the previous eight days. There is a ton of good stuff to choose from, like Barrelhead Brewing’s Bacon, Bourbon, and Barleywine pairing, the Woods Beer Bus Tour which will take you to all five Woods locations, and City Beer Store’s Sea of Sours (sours are figuring even more prominently this year than last it seems). Ferment Drink Repeat’s Beers Off the Beaten Path progressive beer and food tasting will take people to four different locations in some of the lesser frequented neighborhoods in San Francisco, offering a different bite paired with an FDR beer at each location.

I don’t know what I’ll be drinking or where I’ll end up, but this will be my day to go big.

Sunday, February 19- Nothing. I’m taking a day of rest as the good Lord intended. There will still be a lot going on, but my liver and wallet will likely be ready to tap out by this point. So will the kegs at The Willows where their kick the keg party will include 50% off full size pours all night. That’s the kind of deal that could bring even the most weary beer drinker out for one more night of indulgence.

Whatever you end up doing, I hope you have fun, drink a lot of good beers while making an effort to learn something, and for Christ’s sake, don’t drive drunk. Lyft is everywhere, the busses cheap. Use them. If you have ideas about places I should hit, things that are not to be missed, or stories about your own Beer Week adventures, I’m all ears.

Cheers.

Brewdiligence: January’s Beer Research

One month in to my year long beer drinking schedule and things are going quite well. January’s research, both scholarly and liquid, went swimmingly. Save for one Saturday that might have gotten out of hand, I made it through without having a single beer that was not new to me. I did allow myself multiple pints of the same beer in one sitting, provided I hadn’t tasted it previously, because going to a bar for one pint is dumb.

The research I did was mostly focused on the ancient world, because that is where my area of expertise as a historian lies, though that article I found most related to my own beer drinking experience was about Colonial America, which I suppose really shouldn’t come as any surprise.

In addition to the articles, I am making my way through Randy Mosher’s book Tasting Beer: An Insiders Guide to the World’s Greatest Drink. It’s a fun, light read, and packed with useful information, not just on tasting beer, but it’s history, the brewing process, glassware, etc. It’s a great place to start a beer education or just have on hand for reference. I’m considering it a primer to Michael Jackson’s epic, The World Guide to Beer. What makes Mosher’s book all the better is his admonition to not even think about reading it without a beer in your hand, and since he is an expert, who am I to say no?

Brewing an Ancient Beer, by Solomon H. Katz, Fritz Maytag, and Miguel Civil. Archaeology, Vol. 44, July/August 1991.

I’ve read, in more than once place now, that beer was the primary reason for domestication of grains. As a food historian I found this claim dubious, but never looked into it further; the times I have run across this it has been in beer-centric publications where one would expect this to be championed as fact. In this article the authors sought to explore the debate about what prompted grain domestication, and to then recreate an ancient beer as best can be expected.

Though the latter half of that might seem passé in the age of Dogfish Head’s ancient recipe recreations, in 1991 there were significantly less people interested in such a thing. Fritz Maytag, craft beer visionary and former Anchor Brewing owner, helped research and write this article, and bottled the resulting beer. One wonders how well that sold. In today’s market it would likely do well. 1991 might not have been ready for it.

My bigger interest here was the veracity of the beer-before-bread assertion, and unfortunately this article did not shine any new light on the subject. The dispute goes back to the 1950s when Robert Braidwood and Jonathan D. Sauer held a symposium asking the question, “Did Man Live by Bread Alone?” Sauer, the progenitor of the beer-first argument, postulated that the work involved in grain domestication would not have been worth it to hunter-gatherers if the purpose was only food, but provides little evidence other than inconclusive archaeological remains to support such a claim. I read the entirety of the 1953 symposium (where not a single person agreed with him), in addition to numerous other articles, and none of them are able to convincingly argue a case for beer over bread. Maytag’s co-author here, Solomon H. Katz, wrote another article (Beer and Bread: The Early Use of Cereals in the Human Diet) proposing the health benefits of a fermented beverage, along with the social impact of a readily available intoxicant might have motivate grain domestication, but readily admits any such conclusion cannot be definitively supported.

I love beer. You love beer. Beer being a prime mover in bringing wild grain under man’s sway is great fodder for conversation over pints, but until better evidence is presented, this notion should be put to rest.

Beer and Its Drinkers: An Ancient Near Eastern Love Story. Michael M. Homan. Near Eastern Archaeology, Vol. 67, June 2004.

An interesting look at the integral role beer played in the ancient Near East and Egypt. Beer was prized at every level of society, being utilized in religious ceremonies, as a form of payment to laborers, and poured for ne’er do wells in taverns and brothels (Another article from 1931 mentioned that harem girls got three quarts of beer a day and also made the now very politically incorrect assessment that “Evidently the Orientals liked ‘em plump then just as they do now”). Material remains play heavily here, including the discovery of clay stoppers used to control fermentation, which were previously thought to be tools utilized in cloth making. In many depictions of ancient beer consumption people are seen to be drinking beer through straws in order to filter out grain hulls and other detritus (like bugs) left over from the brewing process. These straws were made of long, hollow reeds and capped with tips made of metal or bone, many of which have been found at sites across the region.

Did Ancient Greeks Drink Beer? Max Nelson. Phoenix Vol. 68. Spring/Summer 2014.

Using textual evidence in histories, dramas, comedies, and philosophical works, Nelson makes a sturdy, nuacned case for his argument that beer was most certainly looked down upon by the Greeks. Yes, some Greeks definitely drank beer. But enough evidence exists in literature, either positive or negative, that a strong conclusion can be made beer was almost a non-factor in Greek society, and that wine was the beverage of choice regardless of social status. Beer was a drink used by non-Greeks and became a means of what is referred to as “othering.” In broad terms, othering is a way in which one group delineates itself from another by way of culturally specific criteria. In the case of Greeks and beer, to be a drinker of beer was to announce oneself as not being Greek, and by virtue of that, a lesser person.

On a related note, the oft seen quote from Plato that says, “He is a wise man who invented beer,” needs to be put to pasture along with the beer before bread argument. Should someone be able to find any text where Plato mentions beer, let alone praises its creator, I would love too see it.

Brewing Beer in the Massachusetts Bay, 1640-1690. James E. Nelson The New England Quertlery , Vol. 71, No.4, December 1998.

A detailed and well researched expert from a larger work on the internal economy of colonial New England. The selection here traces the evolution of brewing from its colonial origins as an activity taking place mostly in private homes to fledgeling industry by the end of the seventeenth century.

One of the more noteworthy aspect of this article, and one which should be of specific interest to today’s beer community, is the presence of women as brewers. It’s a well known fact that women made more beer than men, from antiquity until the time brewing became a real means of financial enterprise, that fact is really brought to life here. Since most early beer making was done at home, and more specifically, in the kitchen, it was a job often included in their may chores. Country records show an inordinate amount of brewing being done by widows, and fathers routinely willed brewing equipment to their daughters.

The tension at play between home and commercial brewers, and the regulations placed upon both might also strike a chord with modern craft beer enthusiasts. Another modern analog to be found is the use of adjunct grains, indian corn specifically. When prices for corn fell below that of wheat, barely, and rye, it wasn’t long before corn played an increasingly large role in some recipes. Then, as now, this was a source of consternation, so much so that legal measures were taken to ensure that good barely was used over corn. In spite of the distance time and modern techniques might seem to wedge between us the beer drinkers of colonial America, it turns out they might have held dear some of the same principles we see in today’s craft beer movement.

Meryl Streep: MMA’s Newest Villain or Harbinger of Mainstream Acceptance?

streep

It seems Meryl Streep is MMA’s latest and greatest villain. Not a roided up Brock Lesnar. Not the unfair pay and restrictive contracts. And certainly not CTE. Nope. Permanent damage inflicted by juicers on people who have almost universally short careers and who are unable to properly monetize said careers take a backseat to the latest plague upon the landscape. That plague is named Meryl Streep.

While accepting a Golden Globe award on Sunday night, she gave a speech that was staunchly anti-Trump and typically Hollywood, steeped in self-congratulatory hoopla. She addressed mixed martial arts only to say that if all the foreigners were kicked out of acting, and the diversity removed, as a country we would be left with football and mixed martial arts, which, she reminded everyone was not, “the arts.” Simple and seemingly benign.

It did not take long for the MMA community to explode with its own self-righteous indignation, as Twitter accounts boiled over in frothing 140 character chunks. Few things come as a surprise in the fight world anymore, but the response this garnered was shocking. The mere passing utterance of “mixed martial arts” within the context of a larger speech sent fighters, promoters, and journalists alike into a tail-spin of defensive hyperbole. The kind one might expect from a thespian rather than from a group of individuals routinely touted as being among the toughest on the planet.

There is an art to martial arts, but it is not “the arts,” as are they are typically referred to. Parochial as any reference to “the arts” is these days, her point was clear: sports are not generally contained within that framework. Go tell your college counselor you want to take a judo class to fulfill art credits and see how far that gets you.

Reactions have been so disproportionate that one wonders how many people actually took the time to listen to her speech. If fighters get their news the same way most people do, a safe guess is that very few did; a quick glance over a link or a Tweet probably, before unleashing a fully formed opinion based on very little fact, held up mostly by emotion. The same thing those same people would accuse Streep of doing. We need to quell this short sighted thinking and look at the situation anew.

Much of life comes down to perspective. How one looks at something, the ability to turn life on its side and view it differently goes a long way. The same applies here.

Foremost, Meryl Streep, arguably the greatest actress to ever live, mentioned MMA at the Golden Globe Awards, which is an international gathering of Hollywood’s elite, viewed by millions. Any press is good press, and that is quite a lot of press. She didn’t call it UFC or human cockfighting. She referred to it properly as mixed martial arts, and on an enormous platform. That is huge.

Moreover, Streep chose to use MMA instead of any other sport, pairing it with the NFL, a money making leviathan and worldwide presence. Not basketball, not baseball, not hockey. MM-freaking-A. Put on par with the biggest sports organization in America, and as an example of what would be left with out “the arts,” which once again, is the bigger picture here. She said nothing negative about either sport, made no mockery of its participants. She merely defended her own profession by using another as a point of reference.

The biggest oversight by all those who’ve come unglued at Streep’s speech is that, within its context, MMA was the only sport that fit into the verbal scheme she was working with. Saying “you’d be left with football and bowling, which are not the arts” lacks the nice ring that using mixed martial arts does. It was a transitional phrase, one which, as a writer, I have to recognize was well done. She threw a deft, well timed combination rather than winging clumsy arm punches.

I doubt that Meryl Streep is a big fan of MMA. I’m equally doubtful she has anything against it. The truth of the matter is likely that she (or the person who wrote her speech) knows enough about the sport to use it in that situation, and with confidence the millions of people watching would all know it as well. It didn’t need to be qualified and no one in the audience yelled out, “mixed martial what?” They took it in stride. I wish I could same the same for the MMA world.

What Streep did on Sunday night was not an attack on mixed martial arts. She did not belittle those who give their lives to the sport, didn’t castigate the practice as inhuman, and certainly didn’t profess to knowing anything about it other than to say it exists. We should consider the possibility that Meryl Streep has accepted MMA into her her life, and in doing so, spoke for the world at large. MMA is a so much a part of our social fabric it can be used by an aging spokeswoman of an enormous industry that is completely removed from combat sports and everyone understood.

It is time we put away the notion of MMA being an underdog sport. For better or worse, mixed martial arts is a part of popular discourse. Meryl Streep knows it. Now we must embrace it.

My 2017 Beer-Year Schedule

I recently discovered a file on my computer called “Master Beer List.” It was my attempt circa 2010 to compile a record of the different beers I tried. More recently Untapped became the means by which myself and many a beer geek maintained a similar list. More recently Instagram has taken over these duties, my feed giving now revolving almost entirely around beer. The point I am getting at that a part of my enthusiasm for beer is curating the personal collection that grows with each new brew tasted. As a historian I have long been enamored by such things; maintenance of factoids and information, research and investigation of random topics of inquiry. Those predilections have carried over to craft beer nicely.

In an effort to further cultivate this, and to obfuscate the fact I’m a total booze-bag with something I can refer to as “research,” I have created a beer schedule for 2017. Each month I will drink only beers selected from a preset category. The word only is used loosely here. I’ll not turn down a beer given to me by someone because it doesn’t fit within the monthly scheme I’ve set up, nor will I be so stringent as to pass on something I’m not likely to see again, or that promises to be exemplary. The themes are meant to direct my consumption, with the goal of better understanding some aspect of beer as a result; my adherence to them will be strict, but reasonable. It should also be noted that the twelve themes here are intended to be loose. While an overarching principle will shepherd me, there is no telling what each month may bring in terms of trends, availability, and the like. The end result might be wildly different than what I have laid out here. I encourage everyone who reads this to plan their own Beer-Year schedule, or at he very least put in some effort to better educate yourself on beer in whatever ways you can.

January – Research Month

Rather than kick things off by restricting myself to a specific beer, my intent for the New Year is to begin by doing as much research as I can. Read, read, read. In the interest of breadth over depth, I anticipate utilizing mostly magazine articles and journals rather than books, and hope to leave a small synopsis of everything I read, or a proper citation at the very least so that others might find the same articles. No specific beer will be assigned to the month, instead I will stick to the theme of research by trying only beers that are new to me.

February – All Beer Week Related Beers and Activities

This one is based on two presumptions: that I will still be living in San Francisco through February of 2017 (SF Beer Week runs from the 10th to the 19th) and that enough beer will be made for that event that I’ll be able to find it all month. Both are good possibilities. A move might come more suddenly that I can account for, but my experience with SF Beer Week is that there is often enough beer in the form of specialty brews, one-offs, and collaborations, that it can still be had in the weeks following the event.

March – All European Beers

My knowledge of European beers has been hampered by the American Craft Beer movement. There is simply too much good beer being made domestically to spend time on imports. This will be the month I try to find a global beer balance. I’d initially thought to do all Irish beers in honor of St. Patrick’s day, but realized it might prove too limiting and expanded to include the whole continent.

April – No IPA April

This should be simultaneously the easiest and most difficult month to get through. Finding a place with something other than IPAs on the menu is going to be easy. Not ordering one, either out of habit or desire is going to the be the hard part. I love IPAs like everyone else, but they have become my default beer. Too often I’ll give a draft list a cursory glance, spot the IPA, and make my order. They’ve become too easy. Last July I did 31 Days With No IPA on a whim and inspired this while mess I’m concocting now. I changed to to April or two reasons. Firstly, going one month without an IPA is a cruel joke of a kind, making April an appropriate time to do so. Second No IPApril has a nice ring to it and, frankly, will make a great hashtag.

May – Saisons, Sours, Wild Ales, Brets, etc.

By May we should be opening up the summer beer season, so it seemed a likely time to get in touch with saisons. My fear, however, is that on top of being slightly less available than other styles, I’ll get completely sick of them after a couple of weeks. Because of this, I’ve added sours, wild ales, and brets to the theme for May. Sweet, sour, and funky flavors will rule the month.

June – All Local Beers

For June the goal is to drink only beers produced within 25 mile radius of where I live, expanding that boundary should I exhaust everything in that range. This will also be a good change to visit and tour the few breweries near me that I’ve not had a chance to, and to spend money only within my community, a goal I would like to work towards in more aspects of my life than just beer, but isn’t always so easily achievable.

July – All Lagers and Pilsners

With summer in full swing, lagers and pilsners are in order to beat the heat. I plan on revisiting the standard American lagers we all cut our teeth on, like Budweiser and Coors, but also seeking out the many versions of these styles being produced by the craft world.

August – All SMASH, Single Hop, and Summer Beers

I’m a big fan of SMASH and single hop beers. Though I harbor very few delusions about ever having such a refined palate that I’ll have the ability to confidently pick out a particular malt or hop variety from a given brew, I do enjoy the process of trying to get to that place, and spending time with a beer I know has specific ingredients to consider. Though increasingly popular, these might prove hard to find with regularity, so I’ve also added anything that bills itself as a summer beer to my options for the month.

September – Amber and Red Ales

Moving into the fall, this month is good to turn towards dark beer. I want to pivot out of lighter summer beers gently, so amber ales make the most sense. Nothing lighter in color than copper shall pass my lips in September. Ambers and Reds are both styles that I generally ignore, not because I dislike them, but because I find others tastier and more interesting.

October – Anti-Pumkin Spice Month and Oktoberfest

I never cared for pumpkin spice beers to begin with, but in the last few years they’ve become shamefully overblown. This October will be about seeking out anything that is characterized as being a fall beer and that is not fouled with pumpkin spices. Oktoberfest beers should be plentiful then, too, offering some more variety. Should I run out of options, there is the possibility of steering into the pumpkin spice craze; maybe by embracing it I will come to understand, or even like it, though the later is doubtful.

November – Aged Beers and Strong Ales

I’ll have to tread lightly this month, and try not to drink myself blind on the oldest, strongest beers I can find, with the aim of consuming nothing under 8% ABV. Given the time of year and the availability of high alcohol brews I don’t see this theme being a problem.

December – Winter Warmers and Dark Beers

I’m not the biggest fan of winter warmer beers, but this is the year I change that. I’ll seek out winter warmers and drink them until I love them (or make myself sick trying). Should I find myself in a place where none are found, I’ll substitute a warmer for the darkest thing on tap. This seems like a good compromise and a fine way to continue beating the December cold.

As stated above, the themes presented here will remain loose. They are not meant to be too proscriptive, but intended to guide my hand through the myriad beers available to me, to ensure I keep trying to new things, and most importantly to make sure I am thinking about what I drink rather than mindlessly guzzling it down. I’m certain that some of these will change in some small part, if not entirely as the year unfolds; there will be times I break my self-imposed rules (I’ll likely have an IPA in April). But I am also certain that at the end of each month I’l have discovered something previously unknown to me; some subtly, some nuance, or some bit of information that I’d never have discovered otherwise, making me a more knowledgable and better educated beer drinker, which is something we should all strive for.

Beer Brewed With Artificial Intelligence

IntelligentX Brewing Company is now brewing beer using artificial intelligence. Using algorithms and a bunch of other science-speak they’ve figured out a way to further dehumanize a part of the craft beer movement and in doing so, have missed the point altogether.

It is important to listen to your consumers, but ultimately recipes cannot be dictated by their tastes, especially if it’s an ever evolving process that operates on users inputting what they like or dislike, and what they might want to see in a beer. I can see future press releases now. “Our customers have spoken and our machines have come up with a beer that is in line with all their desires. It’s hoppy, but not hoppy at all. It’s super malty, but also has no malt character. It is also fruity and savory, is session-able but but high in alcohol, and at once hazy and clear. Did we mention it contains eight varieties of yeast? Yes, eight. You know that muddled gray that is a result of mixing all the paint in a water color set? It’s like that, but the beer version. That’s what the people want, apparently.”

The fact that an English company seems to be helming this abomination is also striking given the 45 year history of England’s Campaign for Real Ale. The whole thing stinks, and I can’t wait to watch it turn sour.

The Evolution of Jon Jones’ Lies

Earlier this week the Nevada Athletic Commission reach and agreement with Jon Jones, suspending him for one year, retroactive to July 6 when his failed tests were announced. The terms of the decision are in line with those Jones and USADA previously agreed to, making the Jackson-Winkeljohn phenom eligible to fight again midway through summer 2017. For fight fans this is good news. Jones is a marvel in the cage and at 29 years of age has many good years of fighting left in him.

In the months leading up to this, Jones has maintained his innocence, along with a period of well-advised media silence. A notable exception came on December 1 when he appeared on the Joe Rogan Experience podcast for a lengthy, candid interview. From his admission to getting black out drunk the week before every fight, to the details of his hit and run car accident in New Mexico, Jones seemed an open book. When it came to his most recent kerfuffle, a positive test for two banned substances, Jones was equally forthcoming. However, a closer look at the conversation with Rogan, along with previous attempts to explain the events leading up to his ingesting a tainted “dick pill,” revealed disturbing inconsistencies.

At an hour and fourteen minutes into the podcast Jones stated that his teammate’s girlfriend is a pharmacist and because of this, had access to things like Viagra and Vicodin. When Rogan asked where she obtained the pills, Jones claimed he did not know. This might seem like a plausible story if it did not contradict previous statements regarding the now much talked about male enhancement pill.

That Jones got the pill from a teammate seems to be the only part of the story which remains unchanged. The teammate in question is Eric Blasich. Blasich submitted to evidence a written statement on the events that lead up to his giving Jones a tainted tadalafil pill, as did Jones. Even these statements go against what had been previously said; written testimony indicates Jones and Blasich were having dinner with multiple teammates when the exchange took place, while the oral evidence states that only their wrestling coach, Israel Martinez was present. Blasich also went on to produce invoices as proof he purchased the pills, without any mention of his pharmacist girlfriend.

These disparities were noted by many, including the the very panel in charge of Jone’s hearing, which went so far as to note the written evidence provided by Jones and Blasich seemed cooked by Jones’ manager Malki Kawa. Stephie Haynes pointed them out in an article for Bloody Elbow, as did Iain Kidd.

In spite of such dubious circumstances, both USADA and the NAC have gone easy on Jones. Don’t forget the NAC is the same sanctioning body that tried to levy a half million dollar fine and five year suspension on Nick Diaz after he tested positive for marijuana, and dropped a lifetime ban on Wanderlei Silva for not testing at all. Jones has been compliant through this process, something neither of the afore mentioned seemed to be, but compliance should not cancel out what appear to be blatant lies.

What’s done is done. A verdict has been rendered and come next July, Jones will be free to fight again. Whatever aspersions we might cast on his character certainly do not carry over to the cage. He will go down as one of, if not the greatest, of all time. During the interview with Rogan Jones mentioned how much tape he studies, watching things over and over, noting which combinations opponents favor, which side they prefer to shoot, and so on until he knows exactly what a person will do in any given circumstance. In fighting, Jones knows that often times the devil is in the details. The same is true for lies; it’s not always the lie that will get a person caught, it’s the story used to support a lie that become its undoing. It’s the pharmacist girlfriend with dick-pills-aplenty or the dinner with teammates or maybe just one teammate or the hastily typed statement by a manager that doesn’t jive with what has already been said.

The whole truth of this will likely never be known. Save for a tell all memoir years from now or perhaps some new hard evidence coming to light, what really happened will remain locked inside the heart and mind of a small few. For now, the only place we should expect the truth out of Jon Jones is in the cage.

I Do Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, but I Don’t Want to Talk About It.

I do Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. There. I said it. This isn’t some kind of dirty confession, nor is it something I feel must remain a secret. I just, as a general rule, don’t want to talk about.

It’s a year and change into my journey. I’ve toed the waters slowly, as other, more substantial life goals took precedence over training. I have earned a single stripe on my white belt and feel rather accomplished for having done so.* Skill level aside, I can be relied upon as a solid training partner who works hard to improve; if I get nothing else out of this undertaking, I hope it’s that, and trust of my teammates. But I still don’t want to talk about it.

Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is something I wanted to do for quite some time. It was easily a decade in the making. The desire to become proficient, if not expert, in a martial art has long been a pursuit, one that was generally pushed off to the side along with many other “someday I’ll get around to it” type projects. Well, I still can’t read latin, but I can apply and arm-bar, or triangle, or collar choke to varying degrees of success. You just won’t catch me talking about it.

Some people know I do this. My wife. My family. My close friends.They will occasionally if I have been to class, but for the most part, they don’t want to talk about it either. And I’m fine with that.

At work I sometimes show up with a hickey-like gi mark running it’s way across my neck or face. Round, fingertip size splotches serve as little beliers of the death grip someone had on my wrist the day before and talk to my co-workers for me. They tell of a life outside the cozy walls we find ourselves confined by; they speak of impact, and of violence, the kind which most people avoid. The rules of polite conversation prevent most from asking what kind of trouble has befallen me, and that’s fine. The bruises can whisper to people about what I do in my free time, because I don’t want to talk about it.

Occasionally people do ask why I am bruised up or why I am limping. I usually say I hurt myself exercising. If pressed, I will tell them the specific means by which an injury occurred; I do Brazilian jiu jitsu. It is the near inevitable follow up questions that are the reason for my reluctance to talk about it. “What is it that?” It’s a martial art. “Like karate?” No, not at all. It’s grappling based. “Oh, like wrestling?” A little, but only in the vaguest sense. “Do you want to be a fighter?” Uh-huh. Nearing forty years of age isn’t when most really great careers in the fight game take off. “Can you kick my ass?” I don’t know, but if I can, jiu jitsu will not likely have much to do with it. “Why do you do that?” I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.

BJJ occupies a similar space to MMA. People have heard of it, have maybe seen it a little, and yet even a negligible grasp on how it works doesn’t curb the ignorant pontificating that dominates public discourse on the matter. I once sat cringing on my sister’s couch, while I listened to some guy give a detailed and completely false account of the way UFC fighters go about purposefully breaking their hands in order to strengthen them. As someone who keeps up a ruthless pursuit of even the most minute details of the MMA world, and who has actually broken his hand only to have it heal as a disfigured shadow of its former self rather than a better, stronger version of the original, I can tell you the mess this blockhead peddled was patently wrong. I hear things like this all the time; rarely with such unbridled and proud ignorance, but more often than not, when the topic of fighting comes up, I remain quiet. I’m too obsessive and I remember everything I read; the burden of caring enough to know enough keeps me silent, lest I spend many a conversation correcting people’s inaccuracies and coming off like a pedantic dick. So I don’t talk about it.

The same holds true for jiu jitsu. People just don’t know enough about it to warrant negotiating a conversation in which they will assuredly be uninformed. Unless they do jiu jitsu too. While I tend to demur when it comes to my martial arts participation, many are effusive. They’ll happily espouse on all manner of things about the jiu jitsu lifestyle; how doing BJJ changed their life; how they got a sweet new Shoyoroll gi; are you a leg-lock guy? And on and on and on. Much noise is made about living this coveted “jiu jitsu lifestyle.” Other than always talking about jiu jitsu, the only things I can reliably associate with a jiu jitsu lifestyle are a curious, and culturally skewed preoccupation with acai fruit, and an equally incongruent usage of the Hawaiian hang-loose-shaka-hand thing. These types share a similarity to crossfitters in that you’ll know they do jiu jitsu, because they’ll tell you they do jiu jitsu. You won’t have to ask questions in this case because they really want to talk about it.

“Jiu jitsu changed my life!” is a common exhortation. It certainly has change my life, and I’ll tell you why: because I do jiu jitsu now. Before, I didn’t. Now, I do. So indeed, my life has changed. But it hasn’t become my reason for being, nor has it made such an impact as to affect my life in the manifold ways some claim it has. Certainly there are positive by products of jiu jitsu: From outwards appearances, I am in better shape now than I have been in a good many years; when I watch MMA I appreciate and understand grappling in a new way, observing a universe of details I never knew, or knew to look for. Largely though, there is no difference. If I eat better, it’s because that is a change I was ready to make in my life, and one which might also come along with the decision to get into a new sport. Perhaps there was an overall lifestyle change that jiu jitsu was one portion of. I think far fewer people are changing their lives because of jiu jitsu than the case is that people wanted to change their lives, and started doing jiu jitsu. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is not a fire-sale of self belief, positivity, and healthy living; it is merely a form of exercise favored by a small percentage of people. Even unhealthy people do it: overweight people; drunks; smokers; people unafraid of gluten. Many of them do jiu jitsu, and do it quite well, but are otherwise very unhealthy. If jiu jitsu were a magic, cross cultural panacea of sorts, I wouldn’t have to explain what am arm-bar is to my mother, which is especially hard when I don’t want to talk about it.

Maybe the jiu jitsu lifestyle is just a matter of having at any and all times no less three outstanding injuries. I have torn intercostal muscles in my ribs and screwed up both knees. My legs are a patch work of amorphous bruises in various shades of purple, brown, and yellow, each one a badge of honor, or more probably, feeble attempts to retain guard. My lower back stings with random sciatic pain that shoots through it and down my leg. The middle of my back cracks when I inhale deeply (this I actually like). My right shoulder pops when I wipe my ass, my left shoulder can barely stand to have a seatbelt strap placed over it, and they both have tendonitis bad enough it sometimes keeps me awake at night. My neck stings and freezes if I look left or right too acutely. My fingers crack with a violence and frequency they’ve never before known. Everyone who has put even a minimum of regular mat time in must have a list of their own, but complaining seems to be universally maligned in the jiu jitsu lifestyle, so we try not to talk about it too much.

I struggle with the “why?” portion of this whole equation sometimes, too. That I should find it difficult to explain to others is no surprise. There are a lot of reasons I suppose, no one having much more weight than the other. It’s empowering; not that I have any delusions about an ability to defend myself, but, because every single class I get through without giving up is a victory. A confirmation of my ability to endure. I do it because it occupies the same part of my brain as other activities I love. I was shocked to find I obsess on jiu jitsu the way I do when I’m in the middle of a long research project or paper. I lay awake in bed at night mentally rearranging jiu jitsu moves they way I would words in a sentence or putting together the melody for a song. What if this goes here, then that goes there? What will that look like? Will that work? The variations and combinations are endless, the pursuit for perfect technique relentless, and for a person like myself who has an excess of mental energy that needs to be channeled into something positive, jiu jitsu is a tremendous vehicle. Mostly though, I do jiu jitsu because it is fun. In spite of the sweat, the blood, the pain and discomfort, I never end a roll, whether I was the hammer or the nail, without a huge smile on my face and feeling excited for the next one.

A few months back, after a particularly good round of sparring, I rolled off another grown man, sweaty, heaving, out of breath, and said to him, “that was beautiful,” as though it was the night of our wedding and we’d just consummated marriage. I recounted the absurdity of this incident to a friend and he asked, “Who was the guy?” I didn’t have an answer. It was someone I’d never seen before that class and who I haven’t seen since. I have plenty of regular training partners whose names I do know, but aside from a name, mostly I don’t know anything about these people. One of them seems to be in labor of some kind, a few in the tech business, a couple others perhaps students. It occurred to me how strangely intimate training jiu jitsu is, how much trust we must place in the people we practice with, and that we do so not really knowing the person at all. We don’t speak at length about our jobs or our lives, yet we lie around on top of one another for hours on end, chest to chest, cheek to cheek, huffing and puffing, and doing our damnedest to kill one another. We slap hands, we smile, we say “see you next time,” and go about our business. We exist outside the walls of the academy, but we don’t really talk about it.

“It sounds like Fight Club,” the friend joked to me. “Are you allowed to talk about it?” he asked. Maybe it’s just that. Perhaps my need for this is a symptom of my condition; that of a modern man seeking out some primordial struggle as a means of getting in touch with my wounded masculinity, and my sense that life, as wondrous as it can sometimes be, is too often rendered dull as we slog through the monotony of it all, bearing the weight of the blunt force trauma of morning alarm clocks and traffic and unfulfilled wishes that isn’t quite strong enough to kill us outright. I am Jack’s acceptance of life in the middle. I am his boredom. I am his disappointment at never being a child star, his search for something visceral, his underlying horror at the futility of it all. I am Jack, balled up on the floor in a sweat soaked gi, trying to breathe while life slowly digs its hooks in and chokes me out. But I don’t want to talk about it.

*In the week and change I spent writing this I earned a second stripe on my white belt.

Playing With My Food: At Home Randall Infusions

Inspired by an article that suggested using a french press for at-home randalling, I recently spent a Saturday evening experimenting with different flavor infusions in my beer. I chose North Coast Brewing Company’s Old Rasputin Imperial Stout as my base; it is big enough to stand up to whatever I put in the press with it, and at twenty minutes recommended steeping time, I wanted a style that didn’t need too much carbonation and wouldn’t suffer from sitting open for so long. The combinations I decide on were: blueberry, mint, and cocoa powder; coffee and bacon; jalapeño and banana; Butterfinger.

Blueberry, mint, and cocoa was the most successful. The mint came through strong, followed by a touch of blueberry. The cocoa powder was negligible; Old Rassy has plenty of chocolate bitterness on its own and did not need any help in that department. Such strong mint flavor was refreshing, though, and balanced the stout’s heavier qualities, making it easier to drink than normal.

Bacon and Coffee was a no brainer, and a grossly uninspired choice at that, one mostly made out of economic concerns. A part of this experiment was to use things I already had at home as much as possible. Coffee and cocoa powder I had. Two strips of bacon from the deli counter were less than a dollar.

This was a real mess in the press. I decided to add the bacon grease as well as the meat and coffee, hoping to get as much porky/salty flavor out of it as possible. It was still a little warm and coagulated quickly in the cold beer, turning into gross little globules of fat. The end result was a coffee bomb with maybe a faint bit of smoke from the bacon. That said, if you like coffee stouts, this is a a sure-fire way to get huge java flavor, and maybe a little caffeine, in your beer. And the leftover stout soaked bacon was a relatively tasty by-product.

Jalapeño and banana was a last minute decision. Jalapeño on its own didn’t seem quite up to the spirit of my undertaking, so I decided a banana might sweeten and soften some of the heat from the chili. It also sounded like an odd-ball combination, which was very much in the spirit of things. My intuition about the banana rounding things out was dead wrong. It was a rush of jalapeño to the head, in brutal fashion, as though the heat of the chili had been condensed and was able to unleash the whole of its power at once. Thankfully it dissipated quickly, and even allowed a little bit of the fruity, floral flavors the the pepper to come through. The banana may as well not even have been there. I should have mashed it instead of just chopping it up.

Butterfinger stout seemed like a beautiful abomination; half stroke-of-fat-kid-genius, half reason-the-rest-of-the-world-hates-America. I had high hopes for my dessert combination, but the Butterfinger flavor wasn’t nearly as strong as I’d hoped it would be. Candy sediment stuck to the edges of my glass and hung in the beer giving it an orange tint, but the stronger flavors of the stout overpowered the sweetness.

A french press certainly won’t do for you what a randall will, but for some cheap fun at home, it is a good way to impart flavor quickly, easily, and with some tasty results.

Food and Fighting

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