Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Griz: "300 pounds packed into a 6-foot 2-inch meat matrix"

In today's SFGate, a character study of the most recognizable visage in the local homebrewing scene.
"There's something kind of embarrassing about being a 64-year-old man with a nickname of Griz. But it's like carrying a turd around in your hat. After a while, you get used to it."

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Monday, September 11, 2006

Mickey's, we hardly knew ye

At least, that's what folks in certain areas in Seattle will be saying once this law goes into effect. If you happen to live in the jurisdiction covered by this piece of legislation and you were planning on raising a glass to celebrate the imminent arrival of my firstborn child, here are the bevvies you won't be buying at a corner store near you:

Beer and Malt Products:
Bull Ice
Busch Ice
Colt 45 Ice
Colt 45 Malt Liquor
Hurricane Ice Malt Liquor
Keystone Ice
Lucky Ice Ale Premium
Mickey’s Iced Brewed Ale
Mickey’s Malt Liquor
Miller High Life Ice
Milwaukee Best Ice
Milwaukee Best Premium Ice Beer
Natural Ice
Old Milwaukee Ice
Olde English 800
Pabst Ice
Rainier Ale
Red Bull Malt Liquor
Red Dog
Schmidt’s Ice
Special 800 Reserve
St. Ide’s Liquor and Special Brews
Steel Reserve

Wine Products:
Cisco
Gino’s Premium Blend
MD 20/20
Night Train Express
Richard’s Wild Irish Rose
Thunderbird

What would Billy Dee do?

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Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Port-er


It started innocently enough. Going through the BJCP style sheet, musing over the handful of styles that remain to be attempted at Brauerij Dee's Heuvel, I realized that I couldn't ever remember brewing a porter. And what a wonderful style! With a wide breadth of interpretation, it's one of those beers that encourages the brewer to throw open the shutters on their individuality and take it in any direction - historical accuracy or reinterpretation, boldly wild and strong or easily quaffable and session-friendly - a quality of improvisation that nearly always draws me in.
It's that same quality of improvisation that also nearly always gets me in trouble. For reasons that I don't quite remember, I not only decided to bring the volume of grist to the style's breaking point, but also severely underestimated my brewhouse efficiency - in other words, I wanted to brew something strong and I was having a bout of low self-esteem in the brewing department. That was problem number one - an OG tipping the scales at 1.110.
Somewhere in the nexus between historical accuracy, my love of beers like Allagash's Curieux, and fantasizing over this picture of Firestone Walker's union system, I figured this would be a perfectly suitable time to begin experimenting with oak. Lacking the ability to brew 55 gallons at a time or the proper kitchen space for a fine French cask, I settled for the next best thing and let the beer age on them for about 5 months.
I still don't remember where the third part came in to play. Maybe it's the Three Philosophers thing. Maybe it was a case of the mad scientist blues. Maybe I was just lamenting the lack of anything Very Superior or Extra Old lying around the house. Whatever the reason, a small mason jar of my mother-in-law's extraordinary brandied cherries found their way into the primary fermenter. The result, six months later, is the glowing red satanic beast you see above. Here's the recipe. It starts off with the aroma of bourbon and vanilla, molasses and brown sugar, pouring with the same reverse foaming head you'd see in a nice Guinness. The taste is all wicked bitterness and dark chocolate, cushioned only slightly by its creaminess and hint of residual cherry sweetness, and it leaves the palate with a buttery, port-like finish. It tastes, in essence, like anything but a porter, but still perfect for welcoming autumn's cold licks of evening wind and slanted shadows. Welcome, September.

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