I Have Never Really Bothered With The Pour

There are many things that can get attached to an idea or experience. I presume the more precious or particular the key advice, the more likely you are dealing with a barnacle that needs scraping off the hull of your given ship of life.. or a consultant hunting for someone to bill. Like this mystic wisdom about pouring your beer:

There’s more to pouring a beer than you may think. Pouring a beer improperly can pollute wonderful aromas, cause an improper release of CO2, and hinder the flavors of the beer. If you want your beer to fulfill its potential, consider this advice…You want to cock the glass a certain way depending on the style of beer. If the beer is highly carbonated, tilt the glass at a 45 degree angle and start pouring down the side. Wait until a third of the pour you want is in the glass, then tilt the glass upright and pour in the center. If the beer is lower in carbonation, start pouring downwards into the center of the glass earlier. A head the width of two fingers is a good rule of thumb for what you are looking for, Deman says.

I have never been particularly anal about how to pour a beer but even I would not look for a two inch head on a low carbonation style like mild. You’d drive the life out of it. But no doubt I’ve been a lifetime beer polluter and had no idea. Better rule of thumb: do what you like when you pour your beer and it probably works for you.

Group Project: Western Alienation And The Olympics

We’ve spent a lot of the last 20 years hearing how that bit of Canada known as the West – the bit between BC and Saskatchewan – isn’t understood, doesn’t fit and (quite conversely) wants to rule us all. What has that done, all that cultural decentralization. Well, the Globe speculates this morning that it has made us all so not an “us” that the Olympics are viewed very differently inside host province of BC and elsewhere:

Firstly, Canadians outside British Columbia have been mostly immune to the debate that has raged on the West Coast over the cost of the Games. And secondly, the torch relay has only recently returned to British Columbia after 90 days or so whipping up Olympic fever across the land. Still, the degree to which the rest of Canada has embraced these Games has been impressive. Which leads to the question: Are these Canada’s Games or British Columbia’s? And whose interests and considerations should prevail when it comes to decisions where there may be conflicting interests or differences in opinion?

I was wondering what the heck the guy was suggesting by “the degree to which the rest of Canada has embraced these Games has been impressive” until I remembered the Globe is part of the corporate glom that includes CTV which is the host TV network. I was scratching my head as I have not heard one Canadian say they are excited about the events thousands of kilometres to the west. As with Santa at Christmas, I’ll be nice about it with the kids but after years of political training that out there is some place else, I have a deep sense that these events are somewhere, you know, else. Right now, I am far more interested in the run the Syracuse Orange are putting on in the NCAAs than whether a Canadian comes 17th or 27th in biathalon.

You? Do you care after all the years and the billions in hype?

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The Trouble With Science Is In The Evidence

We are generally clever, we humans. We figure things out by what we see about us. But there are two problems – what we haven’t seen yet and what that we make decisions without considering what we haven’t seen yet. Consider this:

…in recent months at a clinic in Liège, Belgium, the patient, now 29, showed traces of brain activity in response to commands from doctors. Now, according to a new report, he has begun to communicate: in response to simple questions, like “Do you have any brothers?,” he showed distinct traces of activity on a brain imaging machine that represented either “yes” or “no.” Experts said Wednesday that the finding could alter the way some severe head injuries were diagnosed — and could raise troubling ethical questions about whether to consult severely disabled patients on their care.

One hopes that way down in there the person experiences a pleasant dream-like state. After all, we are not told whether he answered the question about brothers correctly. But it is more likely that it is more like being stuck in a shopping mall at night with no access to any of the stores, roaming the grey hallways, just missing running into the night cleaners over and over. We suspect it yet until we have a device that gives indications, a glowing toggle switch attached to a tiny flicking light bulb on a panel, we presume there is nothing to be indicated. It’s too bad William Blake did not live in the era of amber glowing toggle switches of panels filled with tiny flicking light bulb. He’d have something to say about them in addition to those senses five.

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Your Random Monday Morning Sports Roundup

I need to break loose and do mad cap things like post sports bullets on Mondays. But not every Monday. That would be a rut. But as it is no longer January, I am no longer in a rut. Spring Training starts this month. It is the month before spring. Plans are already started for the vintage base ball season. I’m practically in training for heaven’s sake.

  • Bay may have had a bum knee which would make him a strong fit for the hapless Mets.
  • Morton did not play due to a frozen pitch… which this season is something of a comfort.
  • Toronto makes a big trade involving a whole bunch of people I either don’t know or barely know. Because I am a Leafs fan I can’t watch the stuff.
  • A week and a half from the Olympics and I really do not care one bit. Looks like it’ll be the downhill scrape and the cross country slush as the rains continue. The are actually going to ski on hay that is covered with snow brought in from elsewhere. Expect a boycott by athletes after the first shredded knee.
  • Syracuse kep rolling withe a less than wonderful win against DePaul Saturday. Are the Orange the best in the land?
  • Super Bowl week. It could be a good game but it will be a dumb week. Personal interest stories. Hype. Yet I am more interested in the upcoming game than the prospect of soon watching Latvians struggle over hay bales in the British Columbian rains.

Anything else go on over the weekend as I folded laundry for days? Days I tell ya.

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Who Are The “We” In The Good Beer Community?

Martyn, the wise Zythophile, made an observation yesterday that includes a per-supposition that I am not sure has been explored:

It’s not said often enough in this argument: we drink because we enjoy it, and the overall happiness that brings to society, I would suggest, vastly outweighs any disbenefits.

Because I do not know who “we” are in this sentence, I do not know if I agree wholeheartedly or disagree completely. If “we” are all drinkers, I cannot accept this at all. I have known people who died because of drunk driving and, way back in high school 30 years ago, escaped being smoked on the highway myself likely more than once when the driver in the car had had as much as the rest of us. The fact that society as a whole has a good time on Friday night does not comfort me when I think of the six kids, including a client of mine, who died back in the mid-90s when two cars hit each other on a rural Ontario road in the night. But if the word “we” means those who do not cause harm or commit crimes, who do not anesthetize ourselves to erase or excuse behavior – who do not misuse but rather use for the convivial pleasures the good beer brings – well, I can see that perhaps but only if that distinction and speaking about that distinction is part of the culture of good beer and a core principle of the passion for good beer.

I know many beer writers enjoy their connections with the great people who brew the beer beer and I am sure the experience is rich and rewarding. Due to my location it really isn’t possible except in a small way. We simply do not have a thriving local brewing scene within a few hours drive from here, though there are glowing lights in the darkness. But we do have people who sell the beer beer whether in the hospitality trade or in retail. And they are liable for over serving and have to decide whether to sell to the inebriated and the long term alcoholic. For the most part, they take the question seriously. They do so knowing the marketplace includes reputation in the community, the “we” of the community.

The risk-reward analogy to mountain climbing or sky diving or bungee jumping is not apt. While it is true – even without the steroid issue – that elite athletes burn the candle faster trading off bad joints for glory now, for the most part the bystanders in the lives of athletes are not affected by these sorts of risks. The participants consent. The risks inherent with alcohol are not all consensual. So, while it is true that we can describe moderate use of good beer a health food, its healthiness is defined by that moderation and the context of increased concern for safety necessitated by the increased risks associated with alcohol and the realization that it is not inherently or universally healthy.

We should take an interest in ourselves whatever we do – increasing the benefits and reducing the harm. If we are thinking about good beer we should also take an interesting in increasing and sharing the benefits while reducing easily identifiable harm – including those harms short of full bore alcoholism. When I think about this blog writing and the thousand of you who I am told read my posts every day I sometime wonder if I have encouraged anyone into a habit that is harmful rather than convivial. I am not satisfied to think of the statistics, that “on average” I may have helped in my small way to highlight the benefits of good beer, that more of you have taken pleasure from my explorations if some few have gone the other way. You are the “we” as well as those around you. And, like the good shopkeeper, “we” need to be aware of that context and advocate for healthy and safe enjoyment as much as we advocate for broader interest in great, tasty, healthy, local or exotic, exciting good beer.

CNY Roadtrip To Stock The Stash

Back. I made it back. I hit four beer stores over around 500 km and nine and a half hours. Now, whereas Pretty Things was just a one time bottle that I passed in the night, now I have seven bottles representing three of their brews and any number of batches. Those canny little cap labels are mighty handy. Plenty of other good stuff, too.

cny1

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I hit a Wegmans in Cicero, Party Source on Erie Blvd., Galeville Grocery in Liverpool and then headed north via C’s Farm Market in Owsego. What did I learn? I had a good old chat with the guy who runs Party Source and finally met Bernie, the owner of Galeville Grocery. As is usually the case, talk is about other stuff as much as beer when they find out that I am from north of the border – health care and lucky Canada they say, taxes and unlucky Canada they say. The shops were all giving each other a run for the money with Party Source showing off its new siding less neon blue and green siding (as so poorly illustrated) as well as growler pours including a Rooster Fish. The other three were as packed with new and interesting beer as I have ever seen them.

Prices? I noticed that The LCBO sells Orval for about 60% of what it costs in Syracuse and that Rogue Yellow Snow is about a buck more there than here. Great deals… if you can find those beers on shelves in Ontario. Funny thing about a monopoly. But the real difference is selection. Over 90% of the beers are unavailable up here and are at prices that make a Canadian beer lover weep. Wegans grocery store wanted just $15.99 for a Great Lakes variety 12 pack and $9.49 for Brooklyn 1. Wegmans even had 750 ml bottles of Saison Dupont for 9.19 and St. Bernie Abt. for $10. 95. At the grocery. Made me think of Mel in Braveheartshouting “Freedom!”. Then it didn’t. Then I paid my duties and taxes at the border. Then I went home.

Friday Bullets for 01 22 10

I missed yesterday. I can’t be tied to your incessant demands for content yet when was the last time I missed a Thursday post. Remember when I posted more than once a day? Remember when I had 12,000 readers a day? We have to face facts: blogging has become like home recording on 8 track tapes. I am off on a shopping exploration of Syracuse. Need me a Jets hat. Kids need multi-coloured goldfish crackers. Why can’t Canadians get multi-coloured goldfish crackers? Why is that the cultural divide?

  • More A. A. Gill goodness.
  • Are US conservative Tea Party types expressing a coherent political point of view? Interesting to hear new Republican darling Scott Brown saying after his election (and riding their wave) that they need to work within the party – and presumably mind their betters. Far too much can be read into anything.
  • Nice to see the NYTs point out what a car crash Conan has become: “…it turns out that the cliché that comics are angry, bitter people deep down is true.” Odd that it is the top headline on the web version of the paper today.
  • I have an Omega 3 drip. Have for years. Soon I will be 17 again.
  • Class speaks to cheater pants: “Ferguson Jenkins says Mark McGwire owes an apology to all those pitchers who gave up his home runs.” Amen.
  • Joel from NCPR just sent me this link to a northern NY folk music project. Where are the traditional folk music and folk tales of my town? Were we not folk?

Is that enough? Is that not enough? Off to find a Wegmans.

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Massachusetts: Jack D’Or, Pretty Things, Holyoke

If you have read this blog for a while you will appreciate that I like saison. A few years back I wondered out loud if it was going to ever be the next big thing and I may have had my wish granted to some degree as they are out there even if they haven’t exactly bumped macro pilsner off the shelf. Pretty Things, which calls itself a beer and ale project, says this is simple table beer but they are being coy. A sensible $5.99 paid for a bomber belies the quality here. A while back, I inhaled upon one of their Saint Botolph’s Town rustic dark ales. It happened so fast, without a moment to type notes. I have high hopes for this one.

It pours yellowed straw ale under a fine white head. The aroma is lightly citrus with herbals. I once grew lemon verbena and – while I can’t say it reminds me of that – it did remind me that I once grew lemon verbena. There is also a creamed sweet maltiness. In the mouth, there is pith and white pepper, twiggy minty notes as well as a cream soft malty underbelly, smoothed from the oats. A bit of pear juice but also a nod to cox orange pippin apple as well as a mid-mouth astringency. Apparently no spices whatsoever if the brewer is to be believed (who’s calling them liars? you??) so it coaxes all the herbal notes from hops. And yeast strains. Why don’t we argue more about having more interesting yeast strains? But no spices. Sorta like those early Queen albums proclaimed in the liner notes that no synthesizers were used now that I think of it. In fact it goes rather well with 1974’s Queen II now that I think of it. I don’t know if it would be Zepworthy for, perhaps, even Houses of the Holy, a record I might rather pair with Fantome but still it does remind you that these earthier manorial beers like certain aspects of the 1970s overly dramatic folk tale art rock playbook, even for their pre-democratic roots, are far more than table beer.

I would like to try it against Hennepin. I am thinking this is a bit bigger and maybe more complex but shares the moreishness. Like all saisons, primal. I particularly like the use of the cap security label to tell me that this is a representative of their April 2009 Third Batch. We are in this for the data after all. BAers are in love.

Has An Unacceptable Level Of Drinking Been Described?

Pete Brown has run a series of posts this week and last that delve into stats being issued by various government agencies and health lobby groups in the UK. It is important work that Pete is doing as there is no stat worse than the unexamined stat. Today’s post was called “More Hilarity with Statistics” which examined claims about the level of drinking in Scotland. I made a comment over there but did some more rooting around to make sure I agreed with what I was seeing and, to avoid looking like a totally rude idiot being all finger pointy in the comments, thought I would set it out here instead. I also got thinking because even if a stat can be discredited it does not mean that the underlying facts necessarily do not exists, only that they are not well described. But, as I said in the comments, I am really bad at math so I am happy to be corrected.

The BBC story Pete began with was titled “Scots ‘Drink 46 Bottles of Vodka‘” by which they mean per person per year on average. Pete suggested that this was not particularly well researched as tourism trade taking the booze away was not figured in – but then when I ran the numbers I saw this pattern:

  • Scotland has about 8% of the UK population
  • total UK booze sales in 2007 were worth over 41 billion pounds
  • and therefore, Scotland’s booze sales can be approximated at around 4 billion pounds.

I took the numbers from this soul suckingly slow .pdf source. I read them to meaning that if every penny of the 25 million pounds spent at distillery shops was non-Scots resident alcohol sales, removing it entirely from Scottish consumption, it only represents well under 1% of total Scottish sales? If that is the case, the variation is under a bottle of vodka a year. I said that even if I was off by a whole decimal point and the distillery sales represent 10% of sales isn’t it still a little bit alarming that every Scots adult averages 41 or 42 bottles of vodka a year? By which I mean I had a gut feeling it was in fact pretty high. But is it?

A little more looking around further, found information stating that 30% of Scots adults say they do not drink – which means the drinking Scot averages 58 or so bottle a year working off the conservative 41 bottles a week stat. It is more like 65 a year if you go by the BBC’s number of 46. I got the “did not drink” percentage from this pdf. So you have 30% of Scots not drinking, 35% drinking up to the average and 35% drinking over the average.

What does that mean? 58 bottles a year on average means 1.12 x 700 ml bottles a week at 40% that means 313 ml of pure alcohol a week. By comparison, a standard Canadian 12 oz 5% beer has 341 ml. Which means that average Scots drinker’s booze consumption is the equivalent of 19 standard 5% Canadian beers a week. Sounds like a bit more than you might think is a good idea, week after week day after day. But not fatal. It’s maybe what we expect the average healthy working Joe would drink in a week. Similarly, a US 22 oz bomber has 650 ml. At 8% that is 65 ml of pure alcohol. Which means that the Scot’s drinker’s booze consumption is the equivalent of 4.8 bombers of 8% US craft beer a week. Is that going to scare off a craft beer fan? Hardly.

But it is an average and that is what I think is the real concern. It means 35% of Scots drinkers adults drink more… because 65% drinkers there drink less including the 30% who abstain. I think those numbers are troubling. They may well be wrong so please do your own a arithmetic. But if they are not wrong – is there not a valid public health concern where 35% of your population is doing that level of drinking. I don’t really care if you think there is no such thing as a public health concern from a libertarian point of view as that is not the point here. Nor does someone called “Alan Campbell McLeod” care if you think this is only a Scottish problem. I think we can all agree that there is a point beyond which alcohol is unhealthy. Is that point been identified by the BBC report?

Book Review: A Life On The Hop, Roger Protz

I bought a copy of this book after looking around and only finding Knut’s observations from last summer on the difference between its marketing and that of Pete Brown’s Hops and Glory. There was a press release by its publisher CAMRA, a nibbly bit by the NUJ, a smidge from his editorial assistant but I couldn’t seem to come up with a review other than the one that Knut found in The Westmorland Gazette:

A Life on the Hop is an amusing romp around the beer world and is devoid of beery jargon. It will be enjoyed not only by beer lovers but also by those who enjoy travel writing.

Magic. I’ll miss print journalism when it dies.

There has been much sport made of Mr. Protz but it is not something that I really understood as he is not a often discussed writer in this part of the world. So, being the good boy that I am, I thought I would have a read of his autobiography to learn a bit more to either join in the slag-fest or, more fairly, get a bit of perspective. I was in for a little shock.

The book is subtitled “Memoirs of a Career in Beer” and the key word is “memoirs” – as this really isn’t an autobiography but a series of anecdotes arranged in themes based largely but not solely on geography. I learned this in the first chapter when I thought I would learn about his childhood but where I learned about pubs he liked in around his first London newspaper work in Fleet Street – the Cheese, Punch, Old Bell, Old King Lub, Black Friar and the Globe. I didn’t know what to make of it – not much Roger, lots of tavern. Then you are quickly into chapters take you through the Czech Republic, Scotland, Ireland, Belgium Germany, Mexico and the USA as if someone were gleaning through one’s old note books in search of favorite and perhaps not too often repeated yarns of a wag. About a hundred pages in, I started turning down page corners after I read errors vaguely Canuckois like:

a. Fraunce’s Tavern in New York dates from 1790 “when New York was still under British rule” [p.107] The British left in 1783 (some moving to help found my town) and the building dates from 1719.

b. the Yakima Valley of Oregon was once part of “French Canada” [p.124] even though the French speaking part of Canada was far to the east and I think that the Yakima was south of the part of the area of the British claim.

I folded down more corners until I stopped around page 167. I didn’t really care that I doubted his explanation of the genesis of the term steam beer [p. 117] or that lambic is the oldest beer style known to mankind, being close to beer dating back to Egypt, Babylon and Mesopotamia [p. 129]. Did it really matter that Babylon was a city state within Mesopotamia? Was I missing the point?

I didn’t miss that there is something of a cranky, indiscreet tone to these travels. Targets include Tories who put him up for the night, corporations and two older ladies encountered in Prague having a private conversation:

I was crossing the square with Graham Lees, a CAMRA founding member with an acerbic turn of phrase, when we passed two elderly American women who were eyeing the fabulous architecture of the area. “Y’know,” one of them said to her friend, “it’s nothing like Poughkeepsie.” Lees went red in the face, chased after them and snarled: “Of course it’s nothing like fucking Poughkeepsie. It’s been here for several fucking centuries.” It was his finest hour.

That’s the finest hour for an arsehole, perhaps. It’s that kind of small coarse tone that you hear in a far too graphic and entirely gratuitous of an account of the suicide of a brewer in an early chapter and the tragic affect on the family or, later, the naming of names of fellow beer tourists who may have broken marital vows at Oktoberfest. You may come away wondering what sort of person would make that part of a book.

Yet he is obsessed with beer. And has spent a life following it – a life that I realize the more I write about beer sometimes can mean hard scrabble and closed doors. It’s a little bittersweet when despite all the years he is not able to arrange for proper accommodations on an invite to the US and back on a liner. It’s a little poignant when he thinks that when someone isn’t able to meet with him because Roger is going to reveal the truth about a merger when it is likely the guy was just too busy. It is a tough old road and a long one. It’s likely one that he takes pride in taking – a road not often taken when he started out. That pride and hard effort comes out as well.

One beer writer chastised me for an unkind comment by email a few months ago, saying: “anybody who started writing about beer since 1995 (just picked that year out of the air – maybe it should be 2000… should pause. If it weren’t for people like Roger they might not be able to be doing what they do.” He also said that he wouldn’t use him as a source but the point is still a good one. When it wasn’t easy, when it didn’t pay well and no one could roll out of bed and blog their thoughts within 17 minutes, Roger was out there writing about beer. He probably got you from one stage of interest to another at some point. And that is what the book is really about. You will get irritated, you will not find out the information you might have thought you would find and you will turn down corners when you find another error – but you will get a sense with the man.

So, buy the book and share your thoughts. Just don’t go on a beer tour with him and give him any reason to think you went off for the evening with the buxom lonely lush. You may read about it later.