Tag Archives: Food Republic

The South Is Rising—at the Bar

Meet the crew from Louisiana’s Bayou Teche, who are rewriting the Southern template for beer.

As a city, New Orleans excels in the culinary arena. It makes the marvelously meaty, olive-strewn muffaletta sandwich. Crusty po’boys packed with fried oysters and shrimp are tasty to the last crumb. The absinthe-haunted Sazerac cocktail exemplifies potent balance. But beer, well, that’s barely an afterthought.

In New Orleans, beer has long been consumed by the Big Gulp, with quantity mattering more than quality. Miller High Life and its watery ilk are as omnipresent as beads come Mardi Gras. Down in the Crescent City, it seems like nary a shot has been fired in the craft beer revolution.

At least that’s what I thought until I arrived at the Avenue Pub last week. Ostensibly, I was in town for a family reunion (it’s a long story how three dozen New York–bred Jews ended up in the Big Easy). While there, I thought, I might as well add a stop to my Brewed Awakening book tour. But where to go? I doubted anyone on Bourbon Street, home to three-for-one Buds and Hurricanes as sweet as Halloween candy, gave a damn about a book on craft beer.

“Go to Avenue Pub,” offered my friend Joel, a longtime NOLA resident. In the last couple years, I learned, Avenue Pub seriously upgraded its tap lines, offering dozens of drafts focused on of-the-moment American and European ales and lagers. Sure, it’s terrific to carry Sierra Nevada and Stone. But upon arriving at the Avenue (located off the St. Charles Avenue street-car line), I was more struck by the breadth and scope of novel locally brewed beer. From Mississippi, Lazy Magnolia made a marvelous stout hewn with sweet potatoes, as well as an ale dosed with pecans. Louisiana’s Bayou Teche turned out beers suited to the Southern palate. And right in town, NOLA Brewing crafted the pungent Hopitoulas IPA, which could stand toe-to-toe with anything from the West Coast.

I spent the evening sampling brews from below the Mason-Dixon Line, finding a delightfully idiosyncratic craft beer culture on the rise. Curious about which Southern beers are worth seeking out next time you make it down to New Orleans? Check out the rest of my story at Food Republic.

A Tribute to the White Castle Slider

Hello, my favorite drunk food. Photo: Flickr/soupstance

*Note: This story first appeared on Food Republic. Check out the original!

The first time I ate a White Castle hamburger I was wildly stoned, the kind of brain-fried high you only get when you’re 17 and sitting in a friend’s car, listening to Built To Spill and cruising around the suburbs with no destination in mind.

At a stoplight, my friend Tim turned around and stared at the red-eyed quartet crowded into his backseat. He drove the sort of massive, maroon-hued American auto that late-’70s pimps favored, meaning that four could commandeer the rear and still have wiggle room. “You guys need to eat,” he said. “You need White Castle.”

We pulled into a parking lot and entered the dumpy, fortress-shaped White Castle, which recalled the dingy home of a once-regal king exiled to the suburbs and forced to work for minimum wage. At the time, I toiled for minimum wage, manning the deep fryer for Burger King. My bank account hovered in the low three digits, meaning I could make the rare splurge on dirt weed, the occasional CD, a late-night meal of Waffle House hash browns and, indeed, fast food.

“Everything is so…cheap,” I mumbled, mesmerized by the fluorescent lights and signs touting burgers for less than 50 cents. With the five-dollar bill in my wallet, I could eat like royalty—the king of White Castle. “Seven sliders,” I ordered, then watched the bored, grease-sheened cooks work their magic. Continue reading

Have You Ever Had Fried Pizza?

Mmm…pizza partly fried in oil.

If you follow the logic of the state fair, there’s not a single foodstuff that can’t be improved by a dip in a deep fryer. Snickers, Twinkies, Oreos, Coke, even batter-coated butter —a couple minutes in gurgling, scalding oil create a calorie bomb that’s one part oddity, one part oh-I-shouldn’t indulgence and all intestinal distress.

One bite of crisp, oozing butter, and you’ll glean an important lesson from this parable: Just because you own a deep fryer doesn’t mean you should use it.

Luckily, no one told that to Giulio Adriani, the madcap pizzaiolo behind Brooklyn’s Forcella. It’s one of the new-model pizzerias sweeping New York, complete with a wood-burning oven, ingredients and even a chef imported from Italy. But what separates Forcella from the doughy pack is a singular, stomach-expanding, deep-fried delight dubbed the montanara.

Curious how the fried pizza is made? Check out my full article at Food Republic.

Get to Know Your Hops: Amarillo

Amarillo hops, ahoy! Photo: Flickr/Scott Mioduszewski

The story of Amarillo hops starts with serendipity. One day, the farmers at Washington’s Virgil Gamache Farms discovered a wild hop variety growing on the land.

“We thought, that’s a different looking hop plant,” Darren Gamache told Edible Seattle. “And so, we smelled the cones and we thought a beer should taste like this. The rest is history.”

The strange hop variety possessed a spicy, semi-sweet character, with a super-citrusy aroma verging on oranges. It recalled the quintessential American hop, Cascade (the reason you love Sierra Nevada Pale Ale), but only more so. Cascades on steroids, if you may. Sensing a winner, Gamache helped the family business patent this proprietary strain, which was dubbed Amarillo and is exclusively grown at Virgil Gamache Farms.

Amarillo’s aromatic star shines brightest in wheat-driven ales, pale ales and IPAs. Any questions? Good—class dismissed. Now try Amarillo in one of these five excellent American beers.

Curious about which beers use this singular hop? Check out my five picks over at Food Republic.

Five Great Places to Eat and Drink in Denver

The Denver Beer Co. I ate a burrito here and drank a dizzying barely wine. Before 11 a.m.

For decades, Denver was a staunch steak-and-potatoes town. Plates were stacked with beef as high as the Rocky Mountains looming in the distance. But in recent years, the Mile High City has rewritten its culinary script. First came the craft breweries, filling tap lines with tasty, locally made ales and lagers.

Now, the dining scene is evolving too, with marvelous Mexican restaurants mixing with madcap eateries that think nothing of substituting pad Thai noodles with pig ears. Curious about my top five picks? Check out my full story at Food Republic!

Great American Beer Festival Recap

Sadly, my hat will never get me drunk. Photo: Jason E. Kaplan

Not since that misguided night in college when I decided to double-fist 40-ouncers of Phat Boy, a thankfully discontinued malt liquor made with ginseng, has my liver felt so swollen and abused.

I’ve just returned from four days at Denver’s 30th annual Great American Beer Festival, a massive celebration of fermentation that attracts brew fans as fervid as religious devotees flocking to Mecca. And for good reason. Each year, hundreds of breweries from all corners of the country descend upon the Mile High City en masse, toting thousands of different beers. Some are good. Some are bad. But with each brew served by the one-ounce pour, you have ample opportunity to try any and every beer.

Consider it drunkenness by a thousand tiny cups.

Of course, sampling every beer is foolhardy, especially this year. Scattered across the floor of the sprawling Colorado Convention Center were more than 460 breweries, which doled out some 2,400 dark stouts, sour ales, bitter IPAs and carbonated oddities so curious, so strange, I wasn’t sure whether to dump them out or greedily ask for another glass. Freetail Brewing, I’m looking at you and your green and cloudy Spirulina Wit.

As far as trends to spot, brewers are still riding high on IPAs, with a swell of black-tinted takes on the style — I particularly liked the Blacktop IPA, from New Glarus Brewing, as well as Bear Republic’s Black Racer. Barrel aging continues to sweep the industry (I swooned over Foothills Brewing’s Bourbon Barrel Sexual Chocolate Imperial Stout and the wood-flavored treats from Florida’s Cigar City), but what’s got me most excited is the surge of sour ales.

Increasing ranks of brewers are deploying wild yeasts and bacteria with a dedication that would impress a microbiologist. Breweries to keep an eye on include Captain Lawrence, Cambridge Brewing, Upland, Brugge Brasserie and Illinois’ Desthil brewpub, which wowed the crowd with its wild creations.

Though it’s impossible to highlight all my favorite ales and lagers—and my many, many skull-blasting hangovers—a few ales and lagers stood out from the sudsy, crowded field.

Which ones did I like best? Check out my full story at Food Republic.

Papa’s Tomato Pie Flips Things in Trenton

Nick Azzaro, the dough mastermind behind Papa’s Tomato Pies.

On a hot summer afternoon, my friends and I drove to Trenton, New Jersey, to dine on a singular, upside-down delight: a tomato pie.

The typical pizza pie, beloved by generations of Americans, follows a standard construction pattern. Stretched dough is topped with herb-laden tomato sauce, then anointed with cheese and baked till gooey and crisp. Not so the tomato pie, the regional pride of Trenton. To create the cherished pizza, ripe tomatoes are simply crushed, not turned into a zingy sauce. A paper-thin crust is topped with olive oil and a smattering of mozzarella and then the chunky tomatoes. A drizzle of olive oil finishes the pie, which is cooked till it’s as crunchy as a Saltine cracker.

My favorite tomato pie can be found at Papa’s, a nearly century-old Trenton stalwart. Curious how the pizza, err, tomato pie tastes? Check out the full story at Food Republic.

Get to Know Your Hops: Nelson Sauvin

Mmm…the Nelson Imperial IPA from Widmer Brothers.

Grab your passport — our latest hops lesson plan takes us to New Zealand, a land turned upside down. In that island nation adrift in the southwest Pacific Ocean, fall is spring, pests are few and far between, and, most crucially, there are no known hop diseases. This fortuitous quirk in the ecosystem — made possible by the country’s remote location and the relatively late arrival of meddlesome mankind — has allowed New Zealand to grow some of the world’s most unique hops.

While I could sing the many praises of hop varieties such as Motueka, Riwaka and the sparkling Pacific Jade, today’s featured hop is the curiously delicious Nelson Sauvin. The name tells the plant’s tale: Nelson refers to a region in central New Zealand, while Sauvin is shorthand for the grape variety Sauvignon Blanc. Much like that wine, the Nelson Sauvin hop presents a fruity, tropical profile, with detours to lychee and mango. Sip an IPA dosed with the Kiwi hop, and, like a lightbulb flickering in the dark, you’ll faintly make the connection: “Man, this tastes just a bit like white wine—but better.”

Any questions? Good—class dismissed. Now that you understand Nelson Sauvin, try these five IPAs crafted with the hop. Consider it extra credit.

Which Nelson Sauvin–spiked IPAs should you try? Check out my full story at Food Republic. Drink it up!

It’s Never Too Soon for Pumpkin Beers

Photo: Flickr/Northwest Beer News

Early last month, I was perusing Portland, Maine’s finest beer shop RSVP Liquors when a display of locally crafted Shipyard ales made me do a double take. “It’s too soon!” I exclaimed, causing a nearby cashier to cock her eyebrow. “What’s Pumpkinhead Ale doing out in early August?”

One of Shipyard’s top-selling seasonal beers has long been Pumpkinhead. It’s a crisp wheat ale flavored with cinnamon, nutmeg and plenty of the namesake vegetable. Pumpkinhead will always be linked with  fall—to celebrate the exchange of swimsuits for sweatshirts. But the beer’s surging popularity has meant that it’s now available from summer to winter. “We usually stop brewing Pumpkinhead around Halloween,” says Shipyard master brewer Alan Pugsley. “This year, we began brewing it a bit earlier and will end after Thanksgiving.”

For purists who pray at the altar of seasonality, this may seem like heresy. I call it a return to form. In colonial America, brewing grains were in short supply. Thus, intrepid beer makers turned to other readily available fermentable substances, such as pumpkin. Over time, as Americans began to cultivate barley, the use of pumpkins in brewing beer faded. But in recent years, brewers have rediscovered the gourd, spurring the birth (or perhaps rebirth) of a singular, thoroughly American fall delight: pumpkin beer.

Stylistically speaking, these beers inhabit a broad flavor spectrum. Some pumpkin brews are pie-sweet, spiced with clove, nutmeg, ginger, and cinnamon, while others trade sweetness for a bitter streak. Stouts, saisons, even sours—name the style, and you can likely use pumpkin. Here are five to try this fall. Or winter or next summer too.

Curious about which pumpkin beers to try? Check out my full write-up at Food Republic. Drink it up!

 

Get to Know Your Hops: Centennial

Photo: Flickr/Donosborn

The story of Centennial hops starts in 1974. That year, U.S.D.A. researchers in Prosser, Washington crossed a grab bag of hops, including pungent Brewer’s Gold, earthy and fruity Fuggle, smooth and somewhat sweet East Kent Goldings and several other bits and bobs. The hybrid was dubbed CFJ90, and over the next 16 years the hop strain underwent rigorous testing in order to answer one very important question: Will this make a great beer?

In 1990, the researchers answered with a resounding “yes.” The hop, dubbed Centennial, was released to the public—boasting heady floral notes mixed with loads of citrus and a clean, dry bitterness. Centennial was singular, yet few mass fizzeries found a home for the aromatic hop in their light lagers and ales.

But before Centennial was consigned to the compost bin, craft brewers came to the rescue. Bell’s Brewery began using Centennial in its flagship Two Hearted Ale, while Founders found success with its plainly named Centennial IPA. Now, Centennial is a signature flavor in American craft brewing—it’s one of the “three Cs,” along with Columbus and Cascade (more on those in future lessons).

Which beers with Centennial should you try? Head over to Food Republic to read my picks. Drink it up!

What’s the Deal With White IPA?

Photo: Dan Thompson

Fashion codes dictate that you can wear white only from Memorial Day till Labor Day. But this summer, several brewers are demanding your beer be snow-hued too.

Last month, Oregon’s Deschutes Brewery and Kansas City, Missouri’s Boulevard Brewing released the fruits of their collaborative labor, a white IPA. I’m sure you’re scratching your skull. You’ve only now begun to wrap your brain around the concept of black IPA, which mate piney, citric bitterness with complementary notes of cocoa and java. Deschutes and Boulevard have taken that concept to the opposite end of the color spectrum, creating a white IPA that’s the offspring of each brewery’s specialties.

Curious how Deschutes’ hoppy brews pair with Boulevard’s beautiful wheat beers? Check out my full story at Food Republic. Drink it up!

Belly Up to the Table

Photo: miss.libertine/Flickr

I took my first sip of beer on a hot summer night. I was about 11 years old, at a Cincinnati Reds baseball game with my dad. A vendor shuffled near, hawking some variety of mass-produced suds, maybe Bud. My father extended an index finger. The vendor poured him a cup of something cold and carbonated, and they completed the transaction.

My dad took a sip, then another. He sighed. “Can I try too?” I asked, curious as a cat. He looked around the stadium. The fans were more concerned with Barry Larkin’s at-bat than my father’s beer. He covertly passed it to me. I sipped. It was bubbly and bitter, an unfamiliar combination that I eagerly sampled again. “That’s enough, Josh,” my dad said, reclaiming his beer. It was my last taste till I was 17, when I had a torrid love affair with beer bongs. In between, I learned nothing about moderation, nothing about the nuances of beer. It was like going from kindergarten to college, with no education in between.

That’s not the case in Belgium. The European nation has a long-running tradition of tafelbier — that is, table beer. Classically, these are light-bodied, low-alcohol beers that are partnered with meals and savored by both adults and kids alike. (In fact, table beers used to be served to students in school. Sure beats the pants off a carton of chocolate milk, huh?) Like French parents pouring their offspring watered-down wine, table beers helped families teach their offspring about beer, and alcohol, in a responsible manner. Though the lightly boozy beers have lost their luster in recent years due to the rise of soft drinks and bottled water, there are still a number of renditions worth seeking out.

Curious? Check out my full picks over at Food Republic. Drink it up!