Category: Uncategorized

Beer Cocktails: A Glass Of Port And One Of Stout

I have had my doubts about beer cocktails ever since I heard the term. I don’t trust that the attempt to create a new niche – and then, of course, the jostling to become guru of that niche – bodes well for actual experience being foisted upon us all. Plus, I am of an age that does not find me in bars watching however much I like them. I have to rely on my own wits. Any that usually keeps me from experimenting too much.

Yet, there is something about port and stout that I like. The “ye olde” nature of it perhaps? I have certainly had a love of ports as well as Spanish sherries, Hungarian tokays and other “sticky” wines that actually predates my love of good beer. These are the drinks of childhood holidays, ex-pats comforting themselves with rich tastes of trade and empire. I came across the concept five years ago and have been tinkering with blends since at least 2008 and, while I approve, I have not found myself converted.

Until today. I realized my problem might be the requirement of blending in the glass. Sure, you might say, that is what a “cocktail” is but, if we are honest, is not the shot and chaser a cocktail, too? And, frankly, is it not even more guru-tastic to use more than one piece of glassware to create the effect? Hands up everyone who agrees. There. It is settled.

Today, I poured a glass of Feist Colheita 1998 port and a pint of Grand River’s Russian Gun Imperial Stout. Both share a rich dryness when tasted in succession that I think would blend well in the same glass. But they also have so many complimentary tastes when tasted separately which are drowned when put together. The lingering dry cocoa licorice of the strong stout is washed by the heady tannin berry of the port. Both have a hint of chalkiness, too. Each are fine drinks in their own right. Together, a partnership.

So, first big news of 2012? It’s OK to use two glasses. Good old double fisting is now surely guru approved. Second big news? If you have a stash it’s now time to get the cabinet, too. Your own little gin palace tucked in a corner of the dining room.

You Fest Of Linky Goodness For Nameless Week

So what do you call the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve? I don’t think of them as the holidays. They are the weeks before the 24th when you spend and spend and spend and spend and spend as if you were in some sort of Bacchanalian cult… oh, well there is that. These days are the days of foreboding. Not of the New Year. But of the New Year’s Eve party. The dark night. Evening of the lost… of the damned. Speaking of the lost and the damned, how unholy a thing it would be to be a journalist this week. Nothing happens, like this:

♦ Who caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaares! Yet it’s is the Glob’s #1 sports story Thursday evening under the heading “The Game Changer.”

♦ Tribe? Remember when the tribes of reel-to-reel rumbled against thos of the 8 track? That’s what this will be like in 25 years.

♦ zzzzzzz…

♦ Even God is getting bored with this person in the news. Sweet touch with the allegation that Ron Paul is corrupt. God’s response: “…of all the things I made Ron Paul to be, you think I needed to throw in corrupt?”

♦ And then there are the Jays. At least the Sox are making trades that I might understand one day.

OK. That’ll do. That’s what you can say about 2011. That’ll do for now.

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The Good News And Bad News For Harper At Christmas

Odd but interesting column by Wente this week in The Glob, the Old and Stale, the Blobby Male… I’ll be here all week, try the liver:

To tell the truth, I don’t agree with all of Mr. Harper’s policies myself. (e.g., the niqab.) But it seems obvious to me that his government is far more in touch with mainstream Canadians than all those critics who accuse him of abandoning the mainstream. He’s worse than an extremist – he’s a populist. Or else he has duped and terrorized the masses so effectively that they are powerless to resist. Kind of like you-know-who.

Sure he is liked. He is also increasingly irrelevant. The retraction of the Feds from the exercise of their own powers combined with confirmation that they cannot dabble in provincial powers has left Mr. Harper as the king of very little. Sure, he has added back the “Royal” to the separate wings of the armed forces but, as a recent chat with a committed military officer reminded me, pretty much only as a matter of branding even if welcome. Nothing has changed in the continued sensible and increased integration of our military as a single fighting force. And, sure, he likes to pay attention to the Arctic more than places where a lot of people live but as that is the only mandated geographic area of Federal administration one would assume he might. And, sure, he like to talk about a balanced budget and spending prudently but one day he might try to pull it off as his Liberal predecessors did.

Mr. Harper believes in a weak limited national government, which is his right, but that means he himself is made weaker, less relevant to the national discourse. For now, we are paying more attention to ourselves as Canadians expressed through our provincial and municipal policies and operations. And why not? We have many layers of meaning, we Canadians. When Harper is replaced the focus will change. What an utterly boring legacy he has mapped out for himself.

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It’s The Bestest Christmas Present Ever!!!

I love when a dictator dies. Sadly, as with today’s death of the North Korean leader Kim Jong Il, sometimes it isn’t when surrounded by your subjects who are filling your body with bullets. But, nonetheless, ding dong the witch is dead. The British keep an oddly stiff upper lip:

Speaking today the Foreign Secretary, William Hague, said: “The people of N Korea are in official mourning after the death of Kim Jong Il. We understand this is a difficult time for them. “This could be a turning point for North Korea. We hope that their new leadership will recognise that engagement with the international community offers the best prospect of improving the lives of ordinary North Korean people.”

Difficult time? Difficult time??? The man who is nuts is dead. He fed his people juche and grass and ignorance and gulags. We only have hints of how bad it is. Now he is in Hell. Good.

At least there is hope. It’s not like Canada’s secret mission in 2006 was going to be a real breakthrough. Maybe these people can now get a chance to enjoy their lives.

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English-Speaking Atheists Lose Their Columnist Saint

I can’t say that I am particularly struck by the loss of Christopher Hitchens but its in the same way that I was not moved by the death of Steve Jobs. Like Jobs, Hitchens was something of a presentation of himself – not a bad thing in itself but it does distract from whether the output was as valuable as claimed. That being said, David Frum has an excellent memorial to the man in the National Post that captures bits of his appeal:

As the event broke up, a crowd of questioners formed around him. I created a diversion thinking it would help him escape for some needed rest. But Christopher declined the offer. He stood with them, as tired as I was, but ready to adjourn to a nearby bar and converse with total strangers till the bars closed. Hitchens was not one of those romantics who fetishized “dialogue.” Far from suffering fools gladly, he delighted in making fools suffer. When he heard that another friend, a professor, had a habit of seducing female students in his writing seminars, he shook his head pityingly. “It’s not worth it. Afterward, you have to read their short stories.”

Frum called him “a man of moral clarity.” I would have thought “amoral” or perhaps ethical was more the proper word. The man he most reminded me of was Mencken. Both had that sort of rhetorical skill that aligned well with their failure to actually meaningfully participate in anything that added to the public good. Both were keen observers and skilled reporters. The sort of person who can tell you what a poor job someone, anyone, yourself even has done but would not actually engage with the doing themselves. Both were famous drinkers.

I am sure that we benefit somewhat from these columnists, folk who can sharply report on the human condition. But they never really get to anything of value as to the why of it all. They have their own belief system which is immune to denting and judge all from that place on the orb with skill, charisma and something of an ultimate pointlessness. Humans already know life is hard and confused, that our leaders make many bad calls. Directing us to that obvious state of affairs, however insightfully or entertainingly, is not the stuff of heroes.

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Your Weekend Links Of Note For A Day At The Hospital

Efficient. Kind. Relaxed. Excellent. It was a good day at the hospital helping the lad get through what turned out to be a far less onerous than feared experience of an eyeball straightening. More nip than tuck, I have spent longer stretches at the dentist. Shades of my two days long medical stays of my youth disappeared. Validated Kate’s observations, too. Realized that I have sat in small city hospital waiting rooms in Canada, the US and Poland and each time thought pretty good people go into this work. Today, a small “hooray” went up among the post-op nurses at one point. I gave the “what was that face” to one of them and was told “the babies are through.” Hooray for the babies, indeed.

♦ Good to see the students of Syracuse can tell pedophilia from hate crime.

♦ I really hope many of these citizenship investigations are linked to the PEI passport selling scandal. Good to know, by comparison, that some Spuds have some sense.

♦ Boys need this last line of defends. It’s like Cold War MAD – mutually assured destruction. I recall when the bag tag war of 1982 broke out at undergrad. We needed, after only two days, a formal truce.

♦ Seventeen century science is absolutely neato: this and this, too

There. Weekend is here. Tomorrow? A Montreal Gazette weekend edition and maybe an obscure mammal in form of sausage.

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More Linky Weekend Goodness For Late Fall

Where were we? Ah, yes. The great explosion of 1840:

Another huge fire erupted on 18 April 1840, this time on Counter’s wharf and, aided by the explosion of gunpowder stored in one of the warehouses, spread across much of the waterfront area. Strong winds helped it extend to the whole of the north block of the Market Square, and to most of the next block up to Store Street (now Princess Street)

Never heard of it until a month or so ago. You would think that the destruction of much of the town would be a folk tale, collective memory. Never understood why Ontario is not interested in its own past like other parts of Canada, the English speaking world.

♦ Saturday night update: The Flea, mon cher, teaches how to KooDon’t.
♦ Best thing ever on the internet: what is brown and sticky?

♦ I had no idea that, besides interest on debt, Italy was actually in the black. Canadian Conservatives everywhere must be hailing it as solvency as they do with Mulroney’s terms.

♦ Really? Do you think? Do you think a cabinet member gets attention from “foreign lady reporters” from nations run by totalitarian regimes because they find Tories hot?

♦ I had no idea that Harper has expanded the Federal public service by 13%. No wonder they think that Mulroney got us to solvency.

♦ What is it with all these odd Tory stories? I mean if they are going to be doing all the social engineering I really hope they know how to plug in the toaster first.

♦ Finally – a break from Ottawa’s amateur hour. A great story from Humblebub.

That’s enough of that. Check out the great series at NCPR on the state of the nations on the two sides of the Great Lakes.

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Some Weekender Bullety Points For Yulesight

Yulesight. You can see the holidays coming but you are not quite connected emotionally yet. It was an interesting week. I was slagged in the British media. Beer magazine columnist with a chip on his tiny shoulders. Wrote a complaint to the publisher whose response was that they did not feel, that I in fact had been called a Nazi sympathizer. They did remove the article from the web but you can see it in Google cache all the same. Other than that, it snowed for the first time this winter.

♦

Love the Starbucks coffee cup. We may not be the 1% but we do like 1% partly skimmed milk foam.

♦ The caribou were right where they were told they would be.

♦ EU officials apparently had declared that you could not claim water helped with dehydration: “The euro is burning, the EU is falling apart and yet here they are: highly-paid, highly-pensioned officials worrying about the obvious qualities of water…”

♦ Sadly, more than enough bad to go around.

♦ Hey – there’s another bit of Canada’s national administration being dumped by the Feds – immigration policy: “While other provinces have fully embraced their provincial constitutional responsibility of selecting immigrants … Ontario has effectively abdicated its ability to engage in the immigration dossier in a serious way.”

There. Weekend. Scooby-Doo on the TV. Bailey’s in the coffee.

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Friday Bullets For The Last Election For A While

Apparently the lesson of yesterday’s election is that Ontarians are sick of elections. Well under 50% voted. I just about nailed the seat count, however, so that is something. It’s status quo for Canada this week. The real story is there is no Tory surge just a fed-upped-ness with the whole thing. Wonder why. Bracing for recession, too.

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Update de les chiens chaudes … is it steam-ays? Whatever it is, it is a movement pure righteousness!
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Speaking of Ontario, did you know the state supplier of booze airbrushed beer labels?
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Withe the Rays and the Yanks making early exits, we can confirm the AL East is not the hotbed of champions we thought it was.
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Yet Morton still leads and the Leafs won. Mad.
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The war in Afghanistan began 10 years ago today.
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I love the way that Palin took the powerful leadership stance of bailing on a fantatically weak bid to be anything other than a self-promoter.

That is it. The week that was. Sunny weekend coming. Shed, I hear you calling…

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You Friday Bullets For The Last Of September

I meant not to do this. I meant to ensure there was something between Friday posts. But the week did not let me. Too sad to mention baseball. Too occupied with the beer blog. It’s not every week a 920 page Oxford Companion to your favorite hobby shows up. These are not excuses. These are reasons. What would I write about? I could post about each episode of Doctor Who but this season, thankfully soon to be over, has been so badly managed that it’s hard to get the energy up. There’s a provincial election but I know people involved. So we have the bullets.

⇒ Morton is in first place With the Sox sucking and the Leafs about to suck, it’s a good time to be a fan of the Morton.

⇒ This is the under-reported story of the week. Had to run her off the land.

⇒ Excuse me but are those pants on fire?

⇒ This beer fest looks warm and inside. The one I am heading to is outside on a weekend that the weather lady just said would be “raw” – yikes.

Maybe more later. There’s a day ahead, a day to take on like the best last day of September as the season slips into a freezing damp cold patch ever. W.o.o.t.

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