Silflay Hraka

I need to keep my good wine reminders somewhere, as I’ve yet to develop the memory for the genre that I have for beer. I think it’s the relatively staid nature of the labels as opposed to those gracing beer bottles.

But, be that as it may;

Castizo de Ricardo Benito – Tinto -Vinos de Madrid

and the Las Rocas de San Alejandro Garnacha

Also, the Giovello Montepulciano, but I can’t find a label image.

No tasting notes, other than they were damn good reds. I don’t pretend to know as much about wine as I do about beer, nor do I want to. My wallet couldn’t handle it.

Old Foghorn

A cry came across a million years of water and mist. A cry so anguished and alone it shuddered in my head and my body. The monster cried out at the tower. The Fog Horn blew. The monster roared again. The Fog Horn blew. The monster opened its great toothed mouth and the sound that came from it was the sound of the Fog Horn itself. Lonely and vast and far away. The sound of isolation, a viewless sea, a cold night, apartness. That was the sound.

“Now,” whispered McDunn, “do you know why it comes here?”–From Ray Bradbury’s The Foghorn

Brewed by Anchor steam since 1975, Old Foghorn is considered America’s first commercially produced barleywine. Originally served in 7-ounce bottles due to its relatively strength in a country ruled by the weak macro brews, it–like many pioneers–immediately ran afoul of the authorities, in this case, the ATF.

Look closely at a bottle of Old Foghorn. It says “barleywine.” One word. When Maytag first sought label approval for his barley wine from the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, it balked at the use of the word “wine” on something not made from grapes. Recalling a bit of legal arcana, Maytag knew that if the beer was sold only in California, the state would allow him to use a label that hadn’t been approved by the feds. To increase his chances with Sacramento regulators, Maytag called his brew “barleywine,” running the two words together to hide the offending term. The label read: “Old Foghorn Barleywine Style Ale.”

Anchor released its barley wine well before the microbrew revolution of the 1980s. . In the ensuing years, other California breweries introduced their own barley wines, following Anchor’s lead and labeling them barleywine. But Maytag noticed these other barley wines were being shipped out of the state. Somehow it became OK to sell outside of California and barley wine began to spread.

And, like the beast in Bradbury’s short story, those who encounter the Foghorn find it calling out to them in a rather personal way. How else does one explain the staggering variety of experiences the brew engenders?

From the article above–Hoppy nose and flavors. Lightly carbonated with a rich, reddish whiskey color. Rich and viscous with an off-dry, subtle licorice-root finish

Beer Advocate

Rich malty aroma, fruits galore, plums, cherries, raisins, and I kept smelling concord grapes, like the ones in Welches grape juice….

…This has a luscious flavor of dark fruits and buttery toffee on the finish. Clearly the hops are an afterthought in this brew, but they do provide some modicum of bitterness at the end….

Some of the above may be caused by differences in the brew over the years, but for a genre as complex as barleywine is much of the variety comes with the territory. For myself, I found the Old Foghorn much less sweet of a brew than other Barleywines, with a thinner body and mouthfeel and, at 8.8% abv, packing less of a punch. I need to compare it to another American Barleywine to see how well it fits into that genre; my default barleywine, Weyerbacher’s Blithering Idiot, is of the English style. The OF does get a gets a bit sweeter–and even lighter–as it warms up, with hints of dates, oranges, and burnt or perhaps toasted sugar at the end. It’s a good fit for the winter night; Barleywine in the glass, fire in the fireplace, and wifey reclining romantically on the sofa.

Well, two out of three ain’t bad. I wonder what’s on the DVR?

“It’s gone away,” said McDunn. “It’s gone back to the Deeps. It’s learned you can’t love anything too much in this world. It’s gone into the deepest Deeps to wait another million years. Ah, the poor thing!”

Allagash Four, a Belgian Quadruppel-style ale from the Allagash Brewing Company.

Allagash Four is brewed with four malts, four hops, four sugars and four Belgian yeast strains. During the mashing process, we add Date Sugar to the mash tun. Later, during the boil, we add Light Candi, Dark Candi, and Light Golden Molasses. After primary fermentation with the first strain of yeast, we add more Candi Sugar, and referment the beer with a secondary strain of yeast… that process is then repeated with a third strain of yeast, and finally a fourth for bottle conditioning in the cellar.

Goes well with Bacon-wrapped scallops, crab-stuffed mushrooms, filet mignon, and chocolate crêpes, according to the brewer.

I dunno about food, but it goes damn well with Squidbillies. “Ain’t nuthin gonna stop me now but my innate inabilitree to progress cognatious thunk. “

Pours a cloudy, dark orange-brown into the wine goblet I use from pretty much every beer I drink now–it’s easier than trying to figure out which of the 20-odd glasses I have collecting dust on the shelves goes best with which brews–taste and mouthfeel remind me of a kind of light barleywine, if such a thing exists.

Though the brewer doesn’t mention it, there’s another, darker, Allagash Four that beer may refer to; a quartet of art students allegedly abducted by aliens from the wilds of Maine in 1976. Art students, wilds of Maine, 1976. I’m sure there were no drugs involved. Just wouldn’t fit into the context, you know?

Not that the brewer’s omission, purposeful or otherwise, has stopped others from using it–The flavors at work here are just as dark and mysterious, and just as transporting, as any interplanetary craft—much as one might use a metaphor to cover up an uinnate inabilitree to progress cognatious thunk.

Zod: You’re just jealous someone else created a sentence containing that high of a cheese quotient.

What I am is pissed. It’s midnight, I want another one, and I have to work tomorrow.

Zod: well, the boy did feel kinda hot when he went to bed tonight. You could drink another one on the off-chance that he’ll wake up sick and you’ll end up working from home tomorrow anyway.

There is that…though it doesn’t seem quite right to be pulling for the boy to wake up with the flu just so I can have another beer.

Zod: You must pick your Carter. Jimmy, or Billy.

Well. In that case…

read more »

The ban on Santa’s backside spreads to Maine.

State law requires beer distributors to register labels with the liquor enforcement bureau. Maine State Police Lt. Patrick Fleming said the agency reviews 10,000 to 12,000 applications a year and typically denies about a dozen. Applicants who are denied are given a chance to alter the label and reapply, he said.

The two other rejected labels feature artwork depicting topless women. One, for a beer imported from France, uses the Eugene Delacroix painting “Liberty leading the people,” which hangs in the Louvre.

The other two brands are the Rose de Gambrinus, which I mentioned as a likey target for the censors last time, and La Choulette’s Les Sans Culottes. Banning them is a shame, because titties and beer go together like…like…..

Oh, just play the NSFW video.

Someone in the New York Liquor Authority has been misreading his Dickens. After his visitations, it was ghosts that Scrooge had no more commerce with, not alcohol.*

Forget about buying Rudolph’s Revenge Winter Ale, Seriously Bad Elf Double Ale or Santa’s Butt Winter Porter, at least in New York.
…
On Oct. 3, a representative for Shelton submitted the six Christmas-themed beers to the Liquor Authority for approval, as required under state law. The others were Warm Welcome Nut Brown Ale, Very Bad Elf beer and Criminally Bad Elf barley wine.

The suit points out that nearly 12 Christmas-themed beers already exist in New York, including Samuel Adams’ Old Fizziwig Ale and Anchor’s Merry Christmas and Happy New Year beer.

Here’s two of the labels in question, courtesy Will Shelton.

Butthead: Huh-huh, Huh-huh. Nut Browned. Hey Baby, would you like one of Santa’s Toasted Nuts?

Beavis: Heh-heh. Fire! Fire!

“Butt,” for those of you who also have an internal B&B dialog of your very own, actually refers to the type of beer within bottle rather than Santa’s hairy nethers, and has for nearly 300 years.

“Before the year 1730, the malt liquors in general use in London were ale, beer, and two-penny, and it was customary for the drinkers of malt liquor to call for a pint, or tankard, of half and half, i. e. a half of ale and half of beer, a half of ale and half of two-penny, or half of beer and half of twopenny. In course of time it also became the practice to call for a pint or tankard of three-threads, meaning a third of ale, beer, and two-penny; and thus the publican had the trouble to go to three casks, and turn three cocks, for a pint of liquor To avoid this inconvenience and waste, a brewer of the name of Harwood conceived the idea of making a liquor, which should partake of the same united flavours of ale, beer, and two-penny; he did so, and succeeded, calling it entire, or entire butt, meaning that it was drawn entirely from one cask, or butt; and as it was a very hearty and nourishing liquor, it was very suitable for porters and other working people; hence it obtained the name of porter.”

When it comes to Christmas beers, I’m partial to Old Jubilation and the yearly Anchor Steam Christmas Ale, but any beer featuring a label referencing Santa’s private parts will inevitably find its way into my beer cellar….err, cabinet. As will the sociopathic elf brews, if only to give me the transient feeling of striking a blow against the Man–who, after all, has already done away with ads for my beloved Christmas tobaccy in the guise of defending the impressionable youths.

The problem with the neo-puritanism evident at the New York State Liquor Authority is that, not only does the board usurp the role of the parent when it decides what can and cannot be seen by children, it sets the standard for its censorship at the lowest common denominator level of “I know it when I see it.” So children like Santa. Big deal. Children like witches as well. Does that mean that the Pendle Witches Brew or Achouffe Macral should be banned as well? Beer Advocate, where you can see the rest of the labels in question, makes a similar argument.

What about Chouffe or Urthel beers? Those cute little gnome-like creatures that adorn their labels are literally taunting teens to pick-up their bottles and play. What about Rogue’s Santa Reserve or Gale’s Christmas Ale? They have jolly old Saint Nick on the label. Hell, I could cite off dozens of “questionable” labels on beers available in NY. Why are they allowed?

Once the act of censorship becomes common practice, it will always be safer to err on the side of the censor when it comes to the “questionable.” Just ask the Danish cartoonists. Once beer labels featuring Santa are banned, those featuring naked ladies, mildly risque phrases, or a weird depiction of someone’s god won’t be far behind. Censorship knows no bounds, because there’s someone who can be found to take offense at something, or a group that needs “protection” from a insidious combination of words and images. Censorship is always its own slippery slope.

* “A merry Christmas, Bob,” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year. I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob. Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!”

Smoking Bishop

5 unpeeled oranges
1 unpeeled grapefruit
36 cloves
1/4 pound of sugar
2 bottles of red wine
1 bottle of port

Wash the oranges and bake.

Once they begin to brown, stick 6 cloves into each orange, and transfer the lot to a large container, pot or bowl.
CAUTION: Should you live in New York, make sure the container in question is not appealing to children at all, else the New York State Liquor Puritans may come after you. Perhaps a chamberpot? Certainly it would help re-create that real Dickens atmosphere.

Add the sugar and wine – leave the port for later

Cover and leave in a warm place for a day.

Squeeze the fruit into the wine/fruit mixture, then strain out the oranges and cloves.

Add the port and heat, but do not bring to a boil

How drunk does a man have to be before deciding that taking a nap in the currently occupied bed of the house he’s busy burglarizing is a good idea?

Ted Kennedy Drunk? Boris Yeltsin Drunk? Glen Campbell Drunk?

I can recall two occasion in college where drunks wandered into my dorm room insisting it was theirs. All they wanted to do was pass out on the couch. None had the entreprenurial spirit Mr. Johnson showed in pocketing a few items first.

Old Peculier. We’re off to an ACC Tourney party. Look for the maudlin Bigwig upon our return.

Try not to drink Scotch until three in the morning.

No beer of the night tonight. After the Carolina/St. Louis game, no beer would do. SW is already on her second Bacardi Silver. She doesn’t drink more than one at a sitting very often, but the second overtime drove her to it tonight.

No review of the Auchentoshan from me–I don’t think my scotch palate is developed enough (i.e., I like everything), but the Tasting Room has one, and I see nothing in it to disagree with.

Glad I have it, though. SW has control of the remote now, so it appears the rest of our evening will be devoted to coverage of ice skating, unless Scotty or the Ngnat starts to stir.

Sl?inte!

What do the Australian police have against this poor woman?

photo via Yahoo

After all, she’s just trying to earn a living.

Fans pay the women up to 70 dollars an hour to buy drinks so they can concentrate on the game but police fear the practice contributes to binge drinking and drunkenness.

While authorities are powerless to ban the women outright, they can prosecute them if they are found to be serving alcohol to anyone who is intoxicated.

Binge drinking and drunkenness are a function of the drinker, not the ease of access to the drink. Ban the beer wenches, and those who patronized them will buy two or three beers at a go rather than make extra trips. They’ll get just as drunk, and just as disruptive. Banning beer wenches restricts the entrepreneurial spirit, not drunkeness.

Update: Another out-of work wench