Historical brews

I always love stories like this.

What I think is especially cool is that the recipe is owned by the NY Public Library, which implies that it could be used (or interpreted) by the public at large. I have a chance of making a brew George Washington thought up! (Though it’s more than likely it was Martha who actually brewed it.)

Of note; ‘small’ beers imply lower alcohol ones, while ‘stout’ would imply higher alcohol content, in the language of the day.

All that said; for a slightly more informed view on this event, I suggest Beervana.

On Letting Go

On Monday I had this exchange with one of the authors of the fine New School blog via Twitter (which is why things like punctuation are not there):

Never missing a promo opportunity Rogue is doing Dead Guy beer tastings all day. Stay classy Rogue

@SamuraiArtist: If that’s about what I think it is, that’s pretty fucked up.

@Grotusque of course it is. They dont just suddenly decide today to put special tastes of all dead guy variations with no notice until today

@SamuraiArtist Uh-huh. I think I’m going to rethink my future purchases of Rogue.

I agree that Osama Bin Laden was an evil man who got what was coming to him. My initial response to the news was: “Good. Because fuck that guy. Note: this will also be my response when Dick Cheney dies.”

I also believe that Bin Laden is dead now and after thanking the men and women who brought him to justice, (and I am extremely grateful for the work they do) it is well past time to work on the multitude of other issues confronting us as a country. I made my comment and then I went back to doing shit, because shit needs to be done.

To paraphrase Patton Oswalt: It’s Monday, get to work.

If you want to raise a glass to his death on your own time; that’s your business. I have certainly done things at home that are well beyond the scope of this blog or public interest. But when your business wants to celebrate a man’s death publicly, however vile that man was, that’s my business too and I don’t think I want to have much to do with you.

Whatever You Say #29

Off to Deschutes again, to see if I can make up for the last time. Despite an earlier arrival time, the place is filling up pretty rapidly and I take one of two seats left at the end of the rail.

I have to say, after the past few weeks, I’m really just hoping for some good beer and non-disappointing humans.

The man whose drink I ask about is wearing a blue flannel shirt and has long sliver rings on his fingers in the shape of skulls. I sit down and talk to him anyway. He’s drinking a Cascade ale and is vastly more interested in the NFL draft than anything else. That’s cool; I’ve got a prime view of the cask pumps so and there’s always interesting people watching on the rail.

As for the Cascade; I’m just not that fond of it. I’m a little surprised at this but I’m taking notes and get a fruity nose with what seems like an almost sulfur finish? That can’t be right, can it? Yet as my glass empties I just can’t shake it; something feels off about this beer. It’s crisp enough but there isn’t much body to it and I just don’t seem to appreciate it. Maybe I’ll try making a batch for myself and seeing if I can’t get a better handle on it.

Somewhere over my right shoulder someone is speaking to a group and there is a little bit of laughter but much more cheering and applause. Nothing too abrasive; everyone clearly remembers they’re in a public space so it’s not too loud but they’ve also made everyone aware of their presence.

A couple chairs down, someone asks the bartender what that’s about. He says it is a group with “Clean up the Pearl”, a volunteer group who came together to clean, cover graffiti, and otherwise beautify the neighborhood.

“Better them than me!” he says, the smirk in his tone so rich I don’t even have to see his face.

And you know what? It IS better them than you, you apathetic facedick, sitting on your smugness, with a beer you may have paid for but hardly earned the right to drink.

Jebus. I gotta get out of here.