The craft brew industry is growing. God's in his heaven, all's right with the world.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
While I coax my friends into trying more beers for me to review, enjoy this article from the New York Times on Belgian golden ales.
Posted by Valerie at 7:43 AM
Friday, February 12, 2010
In Miami, there is a restaurant called Titanic, which is also a bar and brewery. They have a couple of seasonal brews alongside their regular offerings, as well as what they call "guest beers" or something like that, basically beers that they didn't brew on the premises but that are supposed to be pretty awesome. Their meatloaf is also a winning item, made in the typical fashion but with the addition of chorizo to give it a kick. But I digress.
Monday, February 8, 2010
As noted in previous reviews, Guinness used to be my husband's favorite beer. At one point he had sort of binged on it so much that other beers just didn't taste right; they were all too weak, too wimpy, not filling enough. He had to lay off for a while to get his taste buds back, and when he did, he found a whole world of beer open to him, including many other perfectly delightful stouts.
Posted by Valerie at 12:54 PM
Friday, February 5, 2010
The name of this beer intrigued me because, well, I had no clue what it meant. Namely the "Ottin'" bit, which I kept reading as "otter" because let's face it, otters are adorable. And so it was that I found myself on the website of the Anderson Valley Brewing Company, which is located in a place called Boonville, which has its own language. Boonville is in California, which as we know is practically a foreign country, so I was not entirely surprised. But I was amused that the language, called Boontling, was allegedly created "to use in their private conversations, both for their own amusement, and to confound anyone who might overhear them harpin’ (talking). They created new words as they went, trying to shark (stump) their companions." My new goal in life is to use this language whenever possible. I will undertake its study post-hate.
Monday, February 1, 2010
I've been to Ireland twice, both times for school. The first time, I spent all of about four or five days there with a wild group of film students, including my husband, who had his first Guinness in a pub in Temple Bar. A stern Irishman watched him drink it to be sure he finished the whole thing. Apparently such things are taken very seriously there. The second time I went to Ireland was for a poetry class, and I got to stay at the dorms at Trinity College, which were pretty nice despite having a single bathroom per floor. Also there was one window that wouldn't close, so it was perpetually 60 degrees in the room, which was mitigated by the fact that we had an electric kettle in the kitchen. I had never seen such a thing. It was truly a miracle to me.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Some beers are okay, even pretty good, on their own. But sometimes they get much better when you stick them together. Such is the case with the drink known to Yard House patrons as the Rose Garden, or to my friends as the Bloody Ho. My friends are crude people, you see.
This is my drink of choice besides cider, and so it is my taste buds that will do the talking here. To make a Rose Garden, take about equal parts Hoegaarden and Lindeman's Framboise and pour them into a glass. That's it, as far as I know, although there may be fancy bartender secrets to which I am not privy.
Hoegaarden (pronounced Who-garden) is a witbier, or white ale, light and relatively clean and crisp. Lindeman's Framboise is a lambic, so instead of hops, fruit is added to activate the yeast that makes the alcohols that makes you drunk. In this case, if you speak any French, you'll already know that the fruit is raspberries. If you don't, you just got told. This particular lambic is pretty sour and tangy, what I would call a sharp flavor, almost acidic, in addition to having the expected fruitiness. It tends to be too strong for me to drink it alone, although their apple lambic is delightful.
When their powers are combined, the beers are unstoppable. The Hoegaarden cuts into the sour tang of the Framboise and smooths it out, while the Framboise gives the Hoegaarden a delightful raspberry overtone. They were made for each other like peanut butter and jelly, like Abbott and Costello, like fish and chips. It's a refreshing drink with barely any hop or malt content. If you aren't a huge fan of beer, this drink may be what you are looking for. If you love beer in all its hoppy glory, you might not dig this, but give it a try. You may be pleasantly surprised.
Just don't ask for a Bloody Ho because someone may look at you funny.