Beer Styles of the Rich and Famous

Robin Leach is certainly entitled to champagne wishes if he still wants them, but if you ask me, his tastes seem kind of outdated for 2012. Why, you ask? Well, just take a look at Peconic Beverage in the Hamptons, where it's all about the beer. They've got six crafts on tap seven days a week, a substantial beer cave with everything from Affligem to Wolavers, and if you're extra nice (and promise to buy at least 10 cases), they'll even deliver to your summer home.

I mention this because I wrote about Terence McCulley and his business in the spring issue of Edible East End (which, as it turns out, is actually the Wine issue). If you were at Effin Gruven last week to try Gold Standard, Brooklyn's new Brewmaster's Reserve, you could have grabbed a copy then, otherwise you'll want to track one down at a farmstand, winery, or restaurant on Long Island. When you do, I suggest reading it with a bottle of bubbly nearby—preferably something like Southampton's Double White or White's Beach Wit from Port Jeff Brewing.

Two Minute Interview: Andy Chase

Many years ago I placed a short ad in the Village Voice. I'd recently moved to New York from a very small town in Ohio, and hoped to form a band with a drummer friend who had relocated to Manhattan at about the same time. We brought a batch of songs with us that I'd written in college, and planned to take the New York music scene by storm. As it turned out, fame and fortune proved elusive, but the ad worked, and a few weeks later we were collaborating with a talented guitarist/producer.

Apparently one of my favorite bands, the pop trio Ivy, also has the Voice to thank for introducing songwriters Adam Schlesinger and Andy Chase to one another. I mention this because together with Dominique Durand they've just released All Hours, their sixth full-length album of moody, hypnotic songs. In many ways, I think it improves on In the Clear, their last release for Nettwerk Records. Fresh off a short run of shows promoting the album, Chase made time to answer a few travel-related questions for my Two Minute Interview column.

7 Reasons to Visit Coney Island this Summer

Sometimes I wish I lived by the ocean. That way when I felt like taking a walk, my mind could wander off over the Atlantic instead of ricocheting between the city's concrete canyons. But I don't, and with a guidebook nagging me to write it this summer, I'm unlikely to spend time strolling along the seashore anyway. Yet for New Yorkers—even those who can't afford a vacation—there is one beach close enough to easily escape to: Coney Island.

An excited Bill Cunningham has already urged New York Times readers to skip the Hamptons in favor of Brooklyn's Riviera, so I thought I'd join the chorus. Here, in an unorganized list then, are my suggestions:

1. Rides. Some of them, like the wooden Cyclone roller coaster, never really went away, but this summer Coney Island welcomed Luna Park back to the stretch of amusements and attractions just off the boardwalk. The new park, which can be enjoyed by purchasing a wristband or a pay-as-you-go-card, includes 19 rides for families, children, and thrill-seekers.
2. Hot Dogs. You can't miss the gigantic green and yellow sign at the end of Stillwell Avenue. For nearly a century, Nathan's Famous has urged beach-goers to try one, two—or in the case of Joey Chestnut of San Jose, California—68 of its beef hot dogs. A few chances remain to qualify for this year's eating contest, but then again, it takes an iron stomach to watch, too. 
3. Baseball. Sure, Citifield and the new Yankee Stadium are nice ballparks, but I'm still partial to Cyclones games on Surf Avenue. The fans are great, the seats are cheap, and there's no better place to watch a footrace between Ketchup, Mustard, and Relish. Opening day is Saturday, June 19th.
   
4. Tiny Beer. Schmaltz Brewing Company has opened "the world's smallest non-production brewery" on 12th Street next to the Freak Show. Their motto appears to be "One Gallon at a Time," but they're currently fermenting three different styles made by local homebrewers. Stop by for a taste this month.
   
5. Tomato Pie. As in, pizza. After a devastating fire forced its closure last spring, things looked bleak for Totonno's, the legendary restaurant that many place in the highest echelon of the city's famed pizzerias. Eleven months later, owners Lawrence and Louise “Cookie” Ciminieri finally reopened their establishment on Neptune Avenue. 
6. Rock Bands. Ten years ago I turned up in New York with a Danelectro guitar and a belief in the power of pop. And although the Village Voice didn't chose my band as one of the regional acts to appear at their first annual summer music festival, I went anyway. On Saturday, July 17th, Siren celebrates its tenth birthday. 
7. Mermaids. Billed as a celebration of "the sand, the sea, the salt air, and the beginning of summer," the Mermaid Parade is also about extremely creative costume designing. And Lou Reed. Attend the nation's largest art parade and see for yourself on June 19th. Plus, you can always stick around for the Cyclones.

12 Songs to Inspire Summer Travel

As the weather in Brooklyn steadily improved this week, I began to notice a corresponding increase in my own eagerness to travel. Sunny skies and wanderlust just seem to go hand in hand. That and it's been months since I last left the Eastern Seaboard. So, without a trip to look forward to in the immediate future, I decided to troll through iTunes for songs to inspire a journey instead. Herewith, in no particular order, are my selections:

• The Drums—Let's Go Surfing (Summertime!)
  
• White Rabbits—Tourist Trap (Fort Nightly)
• The New Pornographers—Go Places (Challengers)
• Bishop Allen—The Chinatown Bus (The Broken String)
• The Lucksmiths—The Year of Driving Languorously (Why That Doesn't Surprise Me)
  
• Fountains of Wayne—New Routine (Traffic and Weather)
  
• Camera Obscura—Honey in the Sun (My Maudlin Career)
  
• The Walkmen—Louisiana (A Hundred Miles Off)
  
• Ted Leo—La Costa Brava (Living with the Living)
  
• The Shins—Australia (Wincing the Night Away)
  
• Beirut—Nantes (The Flying Club Cup)
• David Mead—New Mexico (Indiana)

Which songs or albums make you want to pack your bags and head out for points unknown?

Beer Town: Brooklyn

I love New York. Really, I do. The thing is, over the years I've become much more of an outer borough kind of guy. Sure, I still have my favorite bars and restaurants in Manhattan, but these days I just don't spend much time there anymore. Thanks to a growing number of foodie entrepreneurs in Kings County though, I hardly even miss it.

Let's take beer, for example: Manhattan only has one true brewery (all of the Heartland beers are actually made across the East River in Fort Greene) while Brooklyn's got four. And that includes a business billing itself as the world's smallest non-commercial brewery. I could go on, but it's late, and you'd rather be watching something funny anyway.

So if you're curious about what's happening in Brooklyn, pick up a copy of the May/June 2010 issue of DRAFT magazine for my tips on the best places to eat, sleep, and drink in this newly-minted Beer Town. Or, if you're low on cash and like a good map, read the online version here.

Split Thy Brooklyn Skull

Yesterday in Brooklyn it almost seemed like spring. For a couple of hours anyway. Here and there a stubborn pile of snow or two refused to melt, but sitting in the small patio behind Mugs Alehouse in Williamsburg, you could pretend that winter was finally over. Of course, the company of a few friends and an ample supply of strong ales always helps such imaginative leaps.

Temperatures fell as the afternoon wore on at the eleventh annual tasting event, but good craft beer was never in short supply. I didn't have the wallet or the stamina to sample even half of the 47 possibilities available, but that didn't keep me from picking favorites:

• Brewdog Tokyo (18.2% ABV). Call it what you will, but Tokyo packs a punch, even in small servings. Classified as an imperial stout, this nearly black liquid resembles a barleywine in some ways and has a smell that reminded me of balsamic vinegar. This may be due to the addition of jasmine and cranberries.
  
• Green Flash Palate Wrecker (9.4% ABV). Unless you can handle 100 IBUs, keep your distance. Pouring a bright yellow-orange with a thick, foamy white head, this creation from Green Flash is probably the hoppiest beer I've tried yet. With an intensely resiny aroma and a bold, oily flavor, I found it uniquely deserving of the title imperial IPA.
• Weyerbacher Blasphemy 2007 (11.8% ABV). A quadruple aged in oak barrels, Blasphemy is certainly a complex drink that I'd describe as buttery and intoxicating. The amber color is alluring, and yet the aroma of bourbon signals that this isn't a beer to be trifled with. Outstanding in small quantities.
• Southern Tier Imperial Mokah (10.9% ABV). Just about the closest anyone's come to Hershey's syrup in a 22-ounce bottle. If, like me, you're a drinker with a sweet tooth, then this exceptionally silky, malty stout is deserving of your hard-earned cash. Although the brewery only releases it seasonally, Mokah could easily be enjoyed year round.
  
• Spring House Kerplunk (8.1% ABV). Named for the sound that chocolate makes when dropped into a brew kettle, Kerplunk has the ebony color you'd expect in an imperial stout but was less dense than some versions of this style. Caramel and bitter cocoa stood out right away, as did a hint of tobacco in the finish.
  
• Voodoo Grand Met (10.0% ABV). Dry, deceptively strong, and the color of polished brass, Voodoo Grand Met is a nice example of a French biere de garde or maybe a Belgian spiced ale. Made in Pennsylvania with German pilsner malt, cane and beet sugar, it stood out in a field crowded with big beers.

Beer My Valentine

Nobody's ever given me flowers. Ditto fancy European chocolates. Heart-shaped jewelry isn't really my thing, but then they say it's the thought that counts, right? Well, with the most romantic day of the year nearly here again, I thought I'd offer a bit of sensible, wallet-friendly shopping advice for anyone who wants to sweep a guy off his feet this weekend.

Buy him a beer. He might not be the picky type, but don't just grab any bottle, go with something special. In other words, spring for a chocolate stout. Not every example of this style is made with real chocolate (relying instead on dark malts to produce a similar flavor), so read the label closely before snatching up your perfect Valentine's Day gift.

Ommegang brews a rich, intensely dark Belgian style chocolate stout that pours like velvet and leaves a wake of bitter cocoa behind. To call it indulgent is not an exaggeration. For my money however, Rogue's award-winning chocolate stout—silky, sweet, and full-bodied—has a slight edge. Like your favorite candy bar, it's irresistible. A couple of glasses of this kind of liquid happiness and neither you nor your sweetheart will care how many blizzards hit the East Coast this winter.

Five Reasons I'm Tired of Lists

Late last year, as I was negotiating the details of a story assignment with an editor over email, he lamented to me about the difficulty of reconciling meaningful content with the tendency of web audiences to scan. While I don't deny that the proliferation of news and entertainment online has changed (and is changing) our reading habits, I will say that I recognize the utility of ordered information.

Lists can be a quick, handy way to gain some understanding of an unfamiliar subject, and occasionally lead to serendipitous discoveries. For writers, they can encourage careful thinking and considered selectivity. And although they aren't a form of expression I particularly enjoy, I am guilty of list-making myself. But lately it seems like every other article is trying to tout the Top Five Ways to Brush Your Teeth or the World's Best Places for Cold Cereal.

I find this trend somewhat disappointing, especially when it comes to travel writing. So, in the hopes of attracting people with a surfeit of time and yet lack anything resembling an attention span, I decided to outline my thoughts in a easy-to-skim format.

1. Travel Writing Should Inspire Curiosity. Some of my favorite—and arguably the best—examples of this genre are long, thoughtful ruminations that don't include a single recommendation. The writer transports you to a place and then pulls back the curtain on a peculiar aspect of it that they alone have investigated. You think to yourself: I wonder what I would say to a magical penis thief if I met one?
   
2. Every Experience Doesn't Need a Ranking. If you're going to bother leaving your routines at home, go ahead and forget about what you think you're supposed to do when you reach your destination too. Do something for the hell of it. Try something you might not like. Believe it or not, misadventures often make for fond memories.
   
3. Lists Value Templates Over Talent. As another writer I admire once said at a reading series I enjoy attending: Ideas are easy. Stories are hard. Call me old-fashioned, but I think there's something to be said for accepting a challenge every now and then.
   
4. Experts Are a Dime a Dozen. Let's say you spent a long weekend in Baltimore. You caught an Orioles game, checked out the National Aquarium, feasted on crabs at Phillips, and wandered over to Little Italy for cannoli after dinner. Wonderful. Tell your friends and family about the great time you had in Charm City, but please don't call yourself an insider.
   
5. Itemization Begets Impatient Readers. I'll be slightly impressed if you make it this far into my post.
   

Fun With Fermentation

With several writing projects to keep me busy during the remaining months of winter, I'm not likely to have much time for anything else. Although I may be able to tackle a project that involves lots of waiting. Something like brewing a beer, for instance.

As luck would have it, a box containing a malted barley blend, Fuggle hops, yeast, and a bunch of home brewing equipment arrived at my door yesterday. Theoretically, if I follow the enclosed instructions carefully, I'll end up with a quaffable Chocolate Maple Porter in about three weeks. It's an exciting prospect, and one that I'll be posting about again very soon.

The Iron Santa Challenge

Even after finishing the first beer, it still seemed like a good idea. By Wednesday morning however, I began to doubt the sanity of attempting (and completing) Pacific Standard's Iron Santa Challenge on a weeknight. I suppose the free T-shirt made it all worthwhile. Well, either that or seeing Colson Whitehead at the end of the bar reading a trade paperback of I Am Legend. Herewith, the drinks of my undoing, in the order I consumed them:

• Rogue Mogul Madness (7.0% ABV). A dark winter ale with a sweetish caramel aroma, citrus hops, and notes of berries and mocha.
• Flying Dog Gonzo Imperial Porter (9.5% ABV). This beer was on cask and tasted somewhat off to me. A strong, full-bodied ale, it ordinarily has a complex character with flavors of coffee beans and smoky molasses.
  
• Young's Double Chocolate Stout (5.2% ABV). The hops remain subtle in this silky brew which tastes like a melted candy bar. Indulgence in a glass.
• Mendocino Black Hawk Stout (5.0% ABV). Brewed with Black Patent malt and hops from North America, this is a very drinkable, rich beer with a dry finish.
  
• Two Brothers Red Eye (9.3% ABV). With strong flavors of bittersweet cocoa and roasted coffee, this deep brown ale was my favorite of the night. Or so I recall.
  
• Chelsea Frosty's Winter Wheat Wine (9.5% ABV). Described on the tap menu as a deceptively easy drink, I found this beer difficult to describe. Which I might have expected after downing five pints in relatively quick succession. It allegedly balances a hint of sour fruitiness with toasted wheat malt and just enough hops to keep things interesting.
  

Odds are good that I will be back to Pacific Standard before long, but next time I'm going to seriously consider ordering from the other extreme.

One Drop of Rain

When is someone going to re-popularize the waltz? It's such a listenable time signature, and yet based on the concerts I've seen lately, most drummers seem unable to play anything that doesn't involve a pounding 4/4 kick drum beat.

Last Friday night Marcellus Hall (of Railroad Jerk and White Hassle fame) took the tiny stage at Union Hall with a trio of Hostages. As the headlining act they didn't need to hurry to setup, and the small crowd was quite receptive, but when they began performing a short set of earnest songs it was as if their lives depended on it. I appreciated the subdued drumming for sure, but honestly, they had me at The First Line.

In my humble opinion, the most memorable song of the evening may have been a waltz entitled "One Drop of Rain," a somber melody that cleverly mimics the refrain with an instrumental passage in all but the first and last iterations. Mr. Hall's plaintive lyrics are matched by the timbre of his voice, and his band treads lightly as the story unfolds with each verse. The structure itself is simple and could be mistaken for something A.P. Carter might have composed if the grandfather of country had written about death and electronic communication instead of death and salvation. Whether or not you agree with the comparison, "One Drop of Rain" works as a piece of music. Fans of timeless songwriting, harmonica solos, and yes, slower tempos take note: his will be an album to watch for next year.

In Praise of Global Knowledge

Have you hugged a map lately? If not, consider doing something to show your appreciation for maps and atlases between the 15th and the 21st of November. Why, you ask? Because the third week of the month is Geography Awareness Week, an annual event observed by a growing number of students, teachers, parents, and professionals. GAW was created in 1987 to inspire kids to learn more about the distribution of and spatial relationships between people, places, and environments on Earth, but anyone can take part in this celebration of geography—it's not exclusionary.

If this all comes as news to you and you haven't the slightest clue about where to begin, stop wringing your hands and head on over to National Geographic's My Wonderful World Blog. They've already posted a "quasi-definitive list" of fun ideas for gamers, cooks, armchair travelers, and yes, bloggers too. Problem solved.

I'll undoubtedly be writing about maps myself, but I'm also planning to introduce Captain Cartography (pictured) to a few educators here in Brooklyn. With some luck, my comic book will be available in time for Geography Awareness Week 2010.

Art by Dezi Sienty

The Bard From Bergen

I don't think I've ever seen someone use an echo pedal as a comedic prop before. And yet that's exactly what Sondre Lerche did on Tuesday night at the Bowery Ballroom. You rarely count on humor from musicians with such earnest lyrics.

Touring in support of his newly-released album Heartbeat Radio, he exuded confidence and excitement as he debuted songs such as the catchy title track and "I Guess It's Gonna Rain Today" alongside older favorites like "Two Way Monologue" and "Days That Are Over." As he switched back and forth between a Gretsch hollow body and an acoustic guitar, he played both instruments with verve and versatility, covering up occasional mistakes with quips and non-sequiturs: "Try to look cool and you'll end up with an out of tune guitar and a broken heart."

In faded jeans and a plaid shirt he did in fact look cool and seemed comfortable on stage, pausing at one point to casually run a hand through hair and inquire about what the audience had "been up to." Judging by the number of Norwegian bands passing through New York this month, I'm guessing that many Scandinavians spent their summer vacations honing their musical chops. I missed my chance to see Kings of Convenience tonight, but I do still plan to catch Hanne Hukkelberg, an artist I wrote about for a forthcoming issue of Nordic Reach.

She was bewitching when she stopped in Brooklyn on her first US tour last year, but I must admit, I appreciate performers that don't take themselves too seriously. And I'd put Sondre in that camp now. "I contemplated playing that 'She Wolf' song tonight," he admitted at one point in his set, "then I realized it was no good without the video."
Photo of Sondre Lerche by Isabell N. Wedin

Munro Bagging

Rainy days in June remind me of Scotland. Two years ago I had just returned from ten days in Caledonia and as I gaze out my window at the rain falling over Brooklyn right now, I'm reminded of the gray afternoon I spent struggling up Ben Nevis, Britain's highest peak. Nevis also happens to be the tallest of the "Munros" (mountains with elevations topping 3,000 feet), and it's a climb made all the more challenging by the unpredictable nature of the weather at the summit.

To quote one of the safety notes printed on the Harvey map I bought at the tourist office in Fort William: "Always be prepared to turn back in the face of a sudden deterioration of weather." In hindsight I'm happy to have bagged this, the most famous of the Munros, but I can't say I enjoyed the hike all that much. The visibility went from bad to worse and what started as a light drizzle became a steady shower that left me soaked from head to toe. Which might have been tolerable had I not been greeted at the top by wind and snow. Mind you, I did pass a older gentleman in shorts and a running singlet on my way back down, but I'm pretty sure he was insane. In any case, my Scottish folly led to the single best night of sleep I've had in my life.

Of course some people are of the opinion that the real reason to visit Scotland isn't the hill walking, the haggis, the golf, or even the abundance of whisky distilleries. As I argued in an article for Transitions Abroad, it's the beer.

Juniper in June

Eventually I'll make it to Finland, a place that's intrigued me since Conan O'Brien televised his short visit to the country back in February 2006. Since then I've developed a fearful respect for their music, an intense appreciation of their endurance, and most recently, a fondness for their unique style of beer. Until I get around to booking a flight to Helsinki however, I'll have to find ways to get my Finnish fix stateside.

Fortunately, Bierkraft in Brooklyn has begun to carry (at least for the time being) a tasty Swedish/Norwegian sahti brewed and bottled at Nøgne Ø in Grimstad. I tried a bottle of it after dinner last night and thoroughly enjoyed its sweet, herbal character. Eleven percent alcohol by volume and made with rye, wheat, juniper twigs, sea wormwood, plus a generous dose of honey, it's not for everyone, yet if you have an adventurous palate, sahti is well worth trying.

Similar in some ways to Rogue's flavorful Juniper Pale Ale, this cloudy, somewhat tart drink produces an ample head of beige foam and pours a burnt orange or medium amber color. I'm not sure if this type of beer tastes best after a marathon sauna session or a Lordi concert, but I do hope it helps me crank out a review of Hanne Hukkleberg's new album Blood From A Stone later this week.

Words and Guitar

"How's the sauna?" the tall, bearded man asked the crowd that had squeezed into a Brooklyn basement on a rainy night in early May. He smiled, maneuvering his lanky frame around the microphones and vases of cut flowers assembled on stage to sit at a toy piano. To his left, a small woman in bright red dress put down a glass of wine and positioned herself on another stool.

And then Ólöf Arnalds began to sing. The forty or so listeners fell silent at once, leaning forward on their wooden benches so as not to miss a single lyric or a passing note struck by her nimble fingers as they moved across the fretboard of her acoustic guitar. She sang in Icelandic, she sang in English, and during the second song, she sang in unison with the audience, heightening the intimacy of the candlelit performance space beneath Sycamore.

I wasn't entirely sure that I'd like Ólöf when I boarded a Q train bound for Ditmas Park, but her delicate folk music and friendly banter won me over. "I don't want to talk about politics and all that boring stuff," she promised at one point during her set. Keeping true to her word, she introduced a new song entitled "Surrender," by explaining that it was about women. While I found the vocal melody memorable and especially plaintive, my favorite numbers were actually another original called "Crazy Car," and a somewhat rough but still charming cover of Caetano Veloso's "Maria Bethania." Oh, and speaking of Scandinavian songwriters, my review of Theresa Andersson's television debut appears in the current issue of Nordic Reach.
Photo by Brittney Bush Bollay for KEXP