Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Hello...

Is it me you're looking for?


I could tell you a long, whiny story about why I haven't been blogging. In the end, it comes down to 2 major points:

1)  I've been the fuck lazy, and
2) Blogs should have pictures

However! I am bored of being lazy, shit is slowing down for Ames, and I now have my very own camera (which I barely know how to use, yay!). So, more blogs to come.

Today, I want to talk a little about booze, sexism and stereotypes. Just a little, I promise.

I am perhaps the last person who would afford any legitimacy to gender issues. I come from a background of foggy gender roles and tough-as-nails matriarchy. I am also a bit of a misfit, intelligent and socially awkward:  dealing with people has never come particularly easily. As my best and most wonderful friend put it, I have a tendency to "death-punch [my] way into your heart." Whatever it is that the world at large has expected of me, I've probably flounced it entirely without even knowing I've done so.

What bothers me, honestly, is being accommodated, pacified, or otherwise pigeon-holed.

I was poking around today on Women Enjoying Beer, which is in my estimation intended to teach brewers how to sell their product to women. Blog name aside (the clever, descriptive and searchable monikers are pretty well taken), I don't need to be marketed to as a subset: make a good product at a reasonable price, and I will probably buy it. If it is in fact good, I will likely continue to do so. If it is awesome, I will tell all of my friends. I will even train those motherfuckers in the fine art of drinking, if need be (blog on that later). That doesn't make me female, that makes me classy and generous.

This monkey sings Club Can't Handle Me. Indeed, tiny pirate simian.
 
 
Some espoused myths about women and beer:
 
Women need to pair beer with food: I am not going to bake a cake to serve with a bomber of stout. There is a massive gap in logistics and energy expended between drinking and entertaining. Will I eat while I am drinking? Bitch, yes. But it's pretty much always going to be nachos or steak and eggs.

Women are all about sustainability: Shit beer is shit beer, even if it's made of 3rd world sacred cow's blood and sold in thrice-recycled cans. Would I prefer a healthy and clean planet? Absolutely. That issue is much larger and more complex than I care to discuss here, but organic certs and and packaging are more feel-good fluff than solution.

Women are counting calories: This is partially true. I, and my beer-drinking chick friends, are going to drink delicious brew regardless of how fat it makes our asses. It would, however, be nice to have some kind of caloric guideline for when I jump on the elliptical to work it all off. In fact, beer makes exercise more awesome: it's pretty much the only reason I can stand Pilates.

Serve beer in clean glassware: What the actual fuck? This is not a marketing tactic, it's a Department of Health mandate.
 
Girls don't want pink beer: I don't give 2 shits what color it is, as long as it's awesome. If you're trying to sell me a Sam Adams lambic, your bitch ass can just keep walking.

Double Christmas tree, in my beer: what does it mean? Everybody's Brewing Sugar Daddy, winter ale, 7% ABV.
 


This is how I break it out to the neophytes: everything you can find in a great wine, you can find in a great beer. The complexities of wine are matters of terroir, barreling, aging and can be too subtle for an undeveloped palate. Beer, on the other hand, generally has complexity of flavor due to ingredients added during the brewing process, and is more accessible to a novice. This isn't girl stuff, and doesn't preclude getting wasted on Jaegerbombs. It's an option, if you choose to explore it. 
 
In conclusion, sexism in marketing is counterproductive. Does it sometimes work? Of course: stereotypes aren't invented by accident. The risk run is in alienating genuine interest in pursuit of flirtation and dalliance.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Chi down

I am occasionally reminded that Seattle beer is vastly inferior to beer in the rest of the civilized world. My second-to-last reminder was at the beer-making course, when complex and orgasmic Belgian deliciousness was referred to as “yeast funk.” The most recent was the prolonged Bacchanal of the last week.
  Three Floyds is not interested in your shenanigans.

There’s a lot of haze surrounding my trip to (an hour south of) Chicago. I can confirm the following details: mini Nilla Wafers are not the same recipe as regular Nilla Wafers; I have gained several pounds; yogurt is fuel for evil; and, that was not my camera (you fuckin’ n00bs). I am stubbornly refusing to look at my bank statements, but I know I spent at least $300 on Unhealthy and No-Good. I also now know that, while Southwest Air will permit an unlimited quantity of Jesus Juice in your carryon, beer and booze are limited to 5 liters. I suspect I was more awesome that usual, but I think a few butthurt, shit-talked boys might be inclined to disagree.

Teddy and I made the frostings ourselves :) The best thing about this cake is that it strikes me as something invented by a drunk person.

The drunk began with Mai Tais in some excellent and entirely racist ceramic cups. Then there was beer (maybe?), sleep, beer (probably), and Beer Geeks (most definitely). I was drinking, I was shit-talking. I was up in windows and Facebooking about my faaaaaaaaaaaavorite ex-boyfriend. I was on top of the car, and the bouncer was definitely getting concerned. I met some cool people, and I made some enemies; I am still not entirely sure which was which.
But, Beer Geeks! It was so divey and spooky! They have Hoosier trivia! And the beer was le *sigh.*I met Crème Brulee stout there, and took it home like the beer slut I am.

4 years of your Dark Lord, bitches: BOW DOWN.

The crown jewel of August 2011 in Lake County, Indiana was surely a Dark Lord vertical tasting hosted by my bunnies Mel and Teddy. It was a big cancer-whuppin’ celebration! I admit that I didn’t take the best (read: any) tasting notes, but I remember a bit of it: one tasted like cherry cola, one tasted like molasses cookies and coffee, the thick one was not nearly so thick as I remembered, and the most recent was not a rough as it was given credit for. It was no small thing for Teddy to share his long-sequestered bounty with the drunk and undeserving, and it was additionally no small task for him to perpetually keep my other hand full of some additional awesomeness.

Sweet, delicious motor oil...

My Teddy, you have excellent taste! I can always count on you <3

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Don't judge, I do what I want!

… Well then. That didn’t last long.

I had a wonderful day off today. The sun was shining, had the house to myself, ended up going out with my mom and ate a burger.

But then the day ended and we started going through all our money woes, found out we had an over drafted bank account between the two of us and had to pull money out of our already short wedding fund.

It’s hot, I’m broke. I’m cranky.

Did someone just say beer?!?!?

Oh yes! … let us stop off at the store and get a cold one. At least we aren’t blowing money at a restaurant right?

My only complaint about going to the neighboring grocery store to purchase beer is that it is always the same things over and over and over. Even seasonal beer. I wish that seasonal beers were different each year. I am BORED.

I am spoiled and live in the northwest where the microbrew is plentiful but I am selfish and have blown through MANY of them.

However this time, thankfully, there was something new I hadn’t tried. Forgive me if it is old news, but it isn’t old news to me.

Bring on the Scuttlebutt.

From Scuttlebutt brewing Co. presented is: Hoptopia.

Yes indeedy! Very hoppy. Perfection for a summer’s long, annoying day. As the significant noted :

“Even my burp is hoppy!”

Nothing lackluster here; Clean taste, nice bitter linger on the tongue. It is an 8%, just where I like ‘em. With a nice kick to it. I won’t run screaming that it is the best beer I have ever tasted, or even the best IPA. But it definitively was money well spent.

Even if I CAN feel myself gaining weight as we speak. ;) Sorry wedding dress, beer is my true love.

Cupcake




It is me! Finally!

… First and foremost, I apologize for not appearing here on the blog sooner. There was a bit of confusion in adding me on. Secondly, I also apologize for how I am going to start this off (now that I have apologized twice don’t ever expect it again).

Now.. on to it..

I am getting married in September. <-- I know I will regret evening mentioning this later in life when I look back at this period of time and have said it time and time again. However, I do have a point in mentioning this (other than the fact that it is all encompassing in my life currently).

The fact is because of my wedding, I am trying to get rid of that friendly little pooch that comes with my favorite beverage.

BEER.

… *sigh*.. I feel like when I say the word beer, a chorus starts signing I can see beautiful rays of light..—I mean, yeah. That. I am trying to avoid beer for a moment. Let’s see how well that works. *rolls eyes*

So my first post is not beer related in any way. In fact it is about something I don’t drink too terribly often these days (if not beer, it is usually whiskey for this girl).. but Vodka!

Yes, Vodka.

The Makers of Cupcake wine (some of my favorite) are now making vodka. This comes in the flavors: original, chiffon (a citrus), frosting, and devils food.

Now, I am still a girl about my alcohol when flavors like devil’s food appear. I don’t like blue fruity junk, but anything that HINTS at chocolate and I am on board (did someone just say stout?? I can smell it…..) So you can imagine my staring in want at the liquor store at the devils’ food flavored cupcake brand vodka.

But alas that significant party pooper I that I mentioned I am marrying pointed out that without any clue of what drinks we might make of it, it wasn’t a wise decision. And thus, we went with original (good choice I felt since most flavored vodka’s are lackluster, Pinacle = nasty).

6 times distilled, pretty blue bottle, the familiar writing of the cupcake name on the bottle.. I was still pretty excited. And at 19.99 a bottle you can’t beat that ($17.99 for those who don’t live in an area of state run liquor stores).

Oh. My. Gosh.

We first made a clean martini, because you can’t judge vodka you’ve poured a glass of juice over. This was amazing. “Like drinking water.” My significant's brother noted. Dangerously soft and smooth, none of the gross harshness vodka can sometimes have. Basically you can knock back a load of drinks this way.

This is exactly what we did the following day. We decided to mix it with Grapefruit juice (nice and tart without all that sugar junk) to make greyhounds. And somehow the bottle ended up empty and in the garbage. I don’t know where all the vodka went I swear! Zzzzzzz…

Yes, I did make it to work the next day.

Long story short, try it, it is great.

And next time I am trying the devil’s food. Chiffon and Frosting are next.

*Cheers.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Shotgun: 2 week Recap

I’ve been so busy!



So much has gone on the last few weeks, that I am nearly overwhelmed with what to talk about. Particularly notable events include a cocktail book launch with TAC, a trip to the Fremont Brewery, Montana cherry wine (seriously), and a beginning brewing class at The Cellar in Seattle. But which to discuss? Perhaps a synopsis of each would be sufficient. Or, a synopsis and haiku? Hmm, I think we’re on to something…

Tacoma Alcohol Consortium – book sendoff with author Ted Munat


Running Up That Road? Not in these heels...




Left Coast Libations
Hole-in-the-wall, gorgeous sips
Hilltop classes up




If you don’t know him, you should: Todd Buckley is hero and champion of South Sound cocktail connoisseurs. Ted Munat is a former event organizer who fell into writing after a promotional pamphlet took on a life of its own. Ted was on his way to Tales of the Cocktail, an annual, international celebration of the latest and greatest the grand world of booze. Left Coast Libations, a collection of recipes and personal profiles from the shining stars of the West Coast bartending scene. The event was a smash, and 1022 South in Tacoma was packed to the gills.


Ted didn’t win at ToC, but I suspect it matters little:






Fremont Brewery



Proletariat art, or wrestling fetish? You decide.



Beer in a warehouse
Here dogs and locals abound
Keg seating, free pretzels



Finally made it! There appear to be 2 classes of breweries in this world: those that prosh up and build a proper restaurant, and those that pour pints in a warehouse. I have a special place in my heart for the latter.
The facility was standing-room only, and pints were pulled by a single Fremont employee. Beer was good, and the long lines moved quickly. Dogs are apparently welcome here, as are takeout delivery meals. If you are disinclined to bring your own sustenance, a massive bowl of free pretzels was available at the door. Good beer, but limited selection, and the cask ales were not as exciting as some others from Fremont that I have seen recently.



Flathead Lake Winery






Wine monkey is watching you. In other news, my cameraphone sucks ass.



Transparent, ruby
Sweet and fruity, very light
I prefer Ten Spoon



Mom and Dad went to Montana recently, and brought me back a lot of wine for watching the dog and watering the plants. Unfortunately, 10 Spoon seemed to be in short supply during their visit. I did get a large variety, and decided to crack the Flathead Red first.


This wine is made with half grapes and half Montana-grown Lambert cherries, which Google informs me are sweet. Well, that was a waste of fuckin’ time: I would have guessed that anyway. The wine was tasty, to be sure, but lacked the depth that I love in Ten Spoon’s exquisite cherry-grape blend. Very light, very transparent, and very obviously cherry, this is a sweet summer sipper and a good wine for a red beginner.


The Cellar

I already know how to drink it: this is the logical next step.




Heady scent of malt
Pumps, pots, cappers and carboys
Hops will kill your dog





I learned a lot about myself at this event: I like funky yeast flavors, I will purchase anything if I can make consumables with it, and I am dreadfully allergic to Greenwood.


I like to see things before I try them, and this excellent class gave me an opportunity to watch the process beginning to end. Kevin also graced us with many tips and tricks accumulated from his personal experiences. All in all, a fun class, although the end of it turned into a namedrop extravaganza of local brewers. It was after 9, and I was ready to gooooooooo, so I think this overly hampered my memories of the experience.


Now I am off to discover a cocktail to drink with dinner tonight. Then, perhaps, a dinner to eat with cocktails. Happy Sunday!


Next up, Ames is going to do something awesome and tell us all about it :D Aren’t you so excited? I know I am!



Saturday, July 16, 2011

Brouwer's - under-the-weather delay

The fact that it's 12 oz matters less when it's awesome. Unfortunately, this was not.



Please forgive any poor spelling or grammar: I have been fucked-up sick since Wednesday, which has delayed my posting. Since the sick is apparently not going away, I may as well post while I can remember my drinkies.

As I have mentioned, one of my verrrrrrry favorite places to drink is Brouwer's in Fremont. It might actually be the best place in the entire city of Seattle, but you'd better not be looking for a mai tai: they serve wine, a bajillion beers (50+ tapped, innumerable bottled), whisk(e)y (50+ here too, including a house blend), and a small selection of wine for the unadventurous. An aside here: I do love wine, but you really shouldn't drink it anyplace that can't tell you how long it's been open. They also make a point of stocking lost of local beers, cooking with local incredients, and making what they can from scratch. House made venison sausage? I would kill you for it.

A friend and I had intended to check out Fremont Brewing, but alas, we didn't plan well: the urban beer garden is only open Thursday-Saturday, and we arrived on a Tuesday. A trip to Brouwer's was in order: it was happy hour and I was crazy hungry.



Heaven... I'm in heaven....



Brouwers should be famous for their small plates, honestly: we ordered the happy hour sausage of the day (house made, some spicy pork concoction), which came unbunned with whole grain mustard and a generous pile of crunchy sauerkraut. We also got Vern’s Warm Nuts (warm nuts, in my mouth… heh). They would have been lovely anyway, with a great balance of salt, sweet and spice, but these are hashed up with motherfucking bacon. SERIOUSLY. I am not on the “bacon in everything” train as a general rule, but this was ingenious.

Here’s what we drank:

Friendly M:
Fremont Brewing Interurban IPA (Seattle, WA)
I generally dislike the overhop and bitterness of IPAs, but this one was lovely and floral.

Some apple-cidery thing
Tasted like a fizzy Fuji apple. Friendly M is a girl about ciders.

Zoe:
Unfortunately, they were out of my first choice, Silver City’s Katy Saison cask

Flyers Daybreak Breakfast Stout (Oak Harbor, WA)
Like Nutella on burnt toast: nutty, deep, rich and chocolatey, with just a hint of coffee. Not too heavy, but with a mouthfeel like cupcakes.

Brasserie de Blaugies Darbyste Fig Saison (Belgium)
Taut, bland, easing into a soapy fruit flavor at the end: a really typical Belgian. Not particularly figgy. It had moments of huge fruit and a bright sour flavor, but I’m not sure why: I could not consistently recreate the experience.



Now, time to crawl my ass into bed, watch some History Channel and get my TheraFlu on. See you next week!

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Treatise: the 8-hour brunch

What does this even mean?



I like a lot of things that don't like me back: milk, absinthe, and the sun are notable examples. I consider these elements stuffy, unfriendly, and not very fun due to their inability to play well with others.

If you're looking for a buddy, beer is your guy: beer is chill, and beer doesn't judge. Beer might make you fat (oh.my.lawd), but beer is never embarassed to hang out with you when you're fat. I can spend a lot of time with beer and not feel shitty about myself. Wine makes me cry at stupid shit, and hard A gives me headaches and lots of empty glasses. Both make me damn hungry (taco truck? yes please). Beer is filling (bonus: no drunk hungries!), and it doesn't make me weird(er than usual). Basically, it makes me feel like a better person, which I like because actually being better is hard.

Some friends and I spent last Sunday wandering around Tacoma. We started at The Harmon for brunch, and wound up wandering all over looking for more things to drink. Invariably, we didn't stop until we found a place with excellent beer at good prices. Why? Any silly bitch can pour wine or make a rummy cola. However, there is something sacred and particularly delicious about draught beer. We did a big circle of the waterfront district and wound up just a few blocks from where we started, at The Swiss. Beers and beers later, pre-noon brunch had turned into supper hour, and we bid our adieus.

One of my brunch friends and I decide that the topic of girls who are girls and like beer is entirely underdiscussed, and at very least not discussed by either of us.

Some girls drink real beer, not Smirnoff Ice or lite beer (Guinness bottles = 124 cal = plenty the fuck low cal). My personal favorite? Lately I've been rocking on some Big Sky Brewing from Missoula MT, mah lovely sister's adopted hometown. My favorite beery places drink are my sunny deck (I for real need a keggerator out here), Oddfellas in Auburn, Brouwer's Cafe in Seattle and, of course, The Harmon (Vanilla Porter, always, gdism!). Ames and I would love to know what other girls out there are drinking (and if it's Cosmos out of a bottle mix before you're wasted, srsly f.o.d.).