Brewed Musings

Brewed Beverage of Choice: A Stange of Rock Bottom Kolsch or a pot of green tea depending on the time of day…

The ocean is a bitch!

Try to control her, corral her, put a leash on her and you will lose her. She is a Bull Mastiff carrying you down the street. She is a bronco not wanting to be ridden. She is nothing but pure energy not wanting to be split. There is no prediction to crest…no prediction to tide. If I were shackled to her, I would try for desperate escape. She is a bitch and I want nothing to do with her. The only answer is meteorology…

Meteorolgy is a bitch!

Brewed Beverage of Choice: A pot of Oolong Tea

Some of you may have been wondering where I have gone to these past few weeks. For anyone who knows me I am very introspective and periods of quiet are quite normal for me. And that is where I have been. Plus I have been intrigued and engulfed in reading The People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn, a book that has opened my eyes and mobilized me. The following is a quote I read this morning and found it interesting enough to write it down in my journal. So interesting in my opinion that I am going to share it with you. The quote is from Archibald MacLeish on Post World War 2, the U.S., and the peace process:

“As things are now going, the peace we will make, the peace we seem to be making, will be a peace of oil, a peace of gold, a peace of shipping, a peace in brief…without moral purpose or human interest.”

Not too sure how you may view this quote being out of context of the chapter. But like I said it moved me enough to write it down. Perhaps a more moving quote should be the one that I read in a local newspaper which lead me to get Zinn’s book. It came at the very beginning of my introspective period and opened my eyes…or better yet it allowed me the strength to use the voice I have been given.

“People who seem to have no power, whether working people, people of colour, or women - once they organize and protest and create movements - have a voice no government can suppress.” - Howard Zinn

Prost!

a no longer voiceless confucian brewer

Brewed Beverage of Choice: Henry’s IPA in a polished pint glass

Thelonius where the hell have you been? It has been far too long since last we met and I was beginning to worry. Perhaps we just missed each other on the bus, you getting off at 6th and Main as I boarded one block away on 7th. Maybe you were on the 4:53 train dreaming of a new riff whilst I was late finishing my brew riff and had to catch the 5:08. Where have you been?

I have missed hanging out with all the gang. Charlie…Diz…Lester…Bud…Hell, even Mingus and his soulful unevenness. I have missed the beers at night in the bar down the street where Horace went mad on the keys and everyone in the room enjoying the madness even joining in and giving him their madness with him adding it to the mix making a big roomful of inviting madness. I miss the times watching Philly Joe beat the shit out of the drums skillfully and not once having to replace his sticks. You know I still prefer the swingin brushstrokes of Jo, but Philly has his moments. I miss sitting at the table with the gang with beers and wine and coffee listenin to Lady Day entrance the room with her version of the blues. We laughed at the squares at the corner table because they still do not get it and never will. I laugh even though I was one of those at one time and still am at other times.

So you can imagine my surprise this morning as I walk into the cafe, my favourite cafe, and see you solemnly sitting at the counter drinking a cup of joe and reading the newspaper. You looking all regal and at home with the coffee mug at your left hand - always at your left hand or at least that is how I remember it. The sight brought a tear to my eye as if I had just found my long lost brother. I wish I had a camera to capture your saintly serenity but no photo could do the image justice. Instead I stare for a bit like a child who is just about to meet his idol, Lou Gehrig, for the first time…Eyes blinking as if the sight of you, the length of the counter with empty seats while others are filled with the working men and women of the morning, the whole sight is a mirage and I am still lying in bed dreaming. After a moment of silence, I finally walk up, slap you on the back, and ask, “Thelonius, where in the hell have you been, my friend?”

Prost!

the confucian brewer

Brewed Beverage of Choice: A Pot of Green Tea and the return of the Spring Sun

The past few weeks have been chaotic to say the least, something that usually leads my mind to the far-reaches of the cosmos and returns with some ramblings of philosophy and a sense of calm. Alas, that point has not been reached yet and I am still far off in the netherworld taking notes. (Please send some trail mix and another pen.) So I thought I would keep you loyal readers busy with some notes from a conversation I had a while back, sitting with a friend over pints. I will also end it with the one and only thought I had the other day whilst chatting with a very special friend. Enjoy!

Every decision, whether conscious or unconscious, gives birth to a myriad of decisions of conscious and unconscious. Who is to say that nothing is predetermined.

I am destined to die some day. This I know to be pre-determined. All my decisions from birth til now gave rise to our meeting, yet I was not destined to find you.

Just because all things are pre-determined in the cosmos does not mean I will inherit a million dollars. The timing must be 100%. 99.98% and all is naught.

The only place destiny is found is in death.

The previous thoughts came from a conversation a friend and I had a while back about the difference in pre-determined and destiny and whether or not there is such a thing called fate. The point of our conversation was not to debate who is right or wrong, but to get us thinking on a different plane, thinking outside logic. Take it as you will…I hope it stirs something up in your mind. And I will leave you with the following:

Sometimes all it takes to start an avalanche is a whisper.

Prost!

the whispering confucian brewer

Brewed Beverage of Choice: Any good pint you would like to drink during a philosophical discussion

It has been a few days now and I believe it is time for the story that lead up to the previous statement about the talents of assholes. It is one of those statements that are clever at the moment, and depending on you outlook, be it as an optimist or a pessimist, remains clever or simply fades into obscurity. As a Mencian Confucianist, I still believe the statement to be true despite its status in the cleverness realm.

The other night a few of my friends and I were sitting around a table, pints in hand, discussing philosophy. If given the choice of discussing philosophy or politics, I will always pick philosophy. Political discussions tend to bore me because rarely does anything useful come from them save rhetoric and cliché. When I do get involved in ‘em I tend to do one of two things: 1. Sit quietly and let the others resolve nothing; or 2. Become an antogonist just to provoke said others. Most of the time it is the latter option. It seems more fun. But on this night I was around friends who felt inclined to discuss useless philosophy…My forte.

Somehow the discussion turned to “assholes.” Every one knows at least one. Some people attract ‘em like flies on manure. Some are attracted to them. Some, like me, have learned to ignore ‘em for the most part. But there is no escaping ‘em. They are there and not going away. Our discussion started because we have a few in the Timbers Army that we try to distance ourselves from because their actions reflect poorly on us as a group. It is somewhere in this lively discussion where I said, “It takes talent to be an asshole. Thankfully, I am talentless.”

That may sound like a very negative statement. Most people would rather think the opposite: the talent lies in being nice and being honest. To be honest I have a hard time coming to terms with my statement. But hear me out. As a follower of Mencius, who believed that humans were inherantly good, the asshole statement holds true. Which sounds more positive, that one has to try to be nice? or that one has to try to be mean? In my opinion, I would like to think that we as humans do not have to try to be nice. It just comes naturally. A person has to try to be an asshole. They have to perfect that ability. That is where the talent lies.

Do not get me wrong. I do not think I am truly talentless. My talents lie elsewhere. I simply have no talent in being an ass. Our discussion ended, openly, on famous baseball player, Leo Durocher’s quote, “Nice guys finish last.” Many of us at the table agreed that we would rather finish last if it meant that we did not have to step on others to place first. We can argue about this quote on a another day and with another brewed beverage.

Prosit!

the talentless confucian brewer

It takes talent to be an asshole…Thankfully I am talentless…

Brewed Beverage of Choice: A pot of Green Earl Grey Tea

Got up at 8:15 this morning and after a while of diddlin’ ‘round doing this and that – more of this than of that – I decided to take the dog for a walk while the sun was still shining because it will not last long in Oregon spring so I walk out my back door to see how my hops are doing and smile at one that is almost at 5 feet in height but really only out here to gauge the coolness of the air to see if I need a jacket with the response of, “Yes!” walking back in the apartment grabbing the jacket and the Timber’s Army ‘No Pity’ scarf not because of the chill in the air but because of the excitement in the air for Thursday’s opening night of standing and singing and cheering reminding me of my childlike stubbornness the other night at being reduced, well reduced is not the correct word, to a cheerleader with me pouting saying, “No I am not!” when in reality she speaks the truth and as usual gets me to see a different point of view even though I will outwardly maintain that I am a hoolie although deep down I know hoolie and cheerleader are one-in-the-same and as I am thinking this I grab the dog, the leash, and my mp3 player putting on Andrew Bird’s ‘Simple X’ and sing along because Andrew is the only one I can sing along with in somewhat the same key – O! Andrew! Only thou can make whistling sound so beautiful! – takes me back to Chicago when I saw him do a show and he had this remarkable 4-button suit that I wanted and O! Crap! I have two weddings to go to this August and need a suit because, despite my outward appearance, I do like to look good once in a while – a bit of vanity maybe – and by the time Andrew has finished his whistlin’ and the sun has gone behind the clouds, Tess and I have reached our destination of Stumptown for a spot of tea and me-time so I switch the music to American Analog Set, tie up Tess to a nice spot throwing her a treat because she likes catchin’ ‘em now and step inside the olio of the morning.

Brewed Beverage of Choice: A Pint of Cask Conditioned Stumptown Porter from Lucky Lab

Today as I was riding Tri-Met (Portland’s local PubTrans) to run some errands, I pulled out the Northwest Brewing News from my bag and started reading. I have many guilty pleasures in my life including: Surfing documentaries, Dwell magazine, and reading the Northwest and Great Lakes Brewing News from cover to cover. A thought popped, no leapt into my head while perusing good friend and fellow Timber’s armyman Abe Goldman-Armstong’s article on organic hops and the high demand for such a limited product. The thought is still in its broad jump as I sit here with a late lunch and a pint of Real Porter: With the shortage of hops in the industry, will we see the resurgence of the Mild Ale?

The Mild is one of my favourite brews because, underdog lover that I am, it is completely misunderstood and difficult to find in the hop happy Pacific Northwest. As an historian and a socialist, the Mild also draws me in because of its ties to labour and farmers. In fact, in honour of May Day, the official workingman’s holiday, I brew a Mild ale (called May Day Dark because fickle Americans do not like the term Mild) which I will put into tank this week.

If I have not educated you on the Mild before, let me give you a bit of historical background. The Mild was not originally a style of beer but a whole group of beers. In England in the 17th and 18th centuries, beer was served in two forms: Stock or “stale” and Mild. The term mild was to denote fresh or unaged. These beers were also brewed by country people to be served for their workers. Yep…It is a British Farmhouse of a sort. At least in my opinion. The Mild evolved over the centuries to adapt to public tastes so that by the 20th century we see the Mild as a brown, malty brew with lower alcohol. (It is good to note that brewers often bottle their beer as browns and serve their draught brews as milds.) It is also this beer that found favour with the miners and manual labourers in the West Midlands of England because, as David Sutula notes in his book Mild Ale, they could “quaff great quantities of the low-gravity beers after a hard day in the mine or the factory…” It was a replenisher.

Beer styles and trends are naturally dependent on supplies. Styles such as the Pilsener, the Municher, and English Pale came about partially because of the water that was used in them. The water in those cities creating a specific taste that at the time could not be replicated. We in the Pacific Northwest are hop mad as I have stated earlier because we have hops growing in our backyards…Sometimes literally. So naturally with the shortage of hops on our hands, a style such as Mild should come back from obscurity. And I am taking up the torch by challenging other brewers in the area to brew a batch. It does not have to be a classic Mild. What fun would there be in that? But make a nice, full-flavoured dark session ale. Mild has been ignored for too long! Have a pint!

Prost!

the confucian Mild Ale brewer

Brewed Beverage of Choice:  A glass of Biere des Sans Coulettes Biere de Garde, La Choulette

Earlier this year I gave you a list of my goals for the year as it comes to marketing myself as a brewer in Portland, Oregon.  I thought it would be a good idea to give you a brief update on these goals.  Primarily because it will help me keep up with them if I make them public, but also because it gives me a sense of accomplishment.

In the past two weeks I have had two friends comment on how well my self promotion has been going.  Since my last post I have brought about a monthly event at my own pub where we release a new or special beer in the original pub which now goes unused save for the few catering events that take place there.  The first event was so-so when it comes to how many people showed.  But the last two have been spectacular in attendance and the beers have been well received.  In fact it was the last one that boosted my confidence three fold.  The beer, the Blind Abbot Abbey style ale, sold over 10 gallons in less than 5 hours.  Another customer told a fellow patron that I was the most underrated brewer in the area, which I found to be one of the best compliments I have received in a while.  And, finally a friend told me on the way home that my marketing plan seemed to be doing quite well.

In addition to that event, I was given the chance to serve my beers at a non-company pub which is unheard of up to that day.  So Tuesday night at the Green Dragon Bistro in Portland, three of my beers were being served to many patrons who not only were shocked that the beers came from the company I work for, but were also served to beer geeks (I am sticking to that term…Beer Nerd???  NO!) who have all but given up on the corporate company I work for.  It is my goal to bring these two groups back together again.  Beer geeks…The company I work for have really decent brewers working for them who actually care about the beers they create.  My company…Beer geeks will bring in more beer geeks if you welcome them.  It is time to kiss and make up.

Finally, last night, my Blind Abbot Abbey ale was served at the Portland Cheers To Belgian Beers festival.  I was there and received some rather exciting raves from the people who attended.  People now know me by my face, which scares me.  They also know my beer which was my goal to begin with.  I spent the night talking to people who were happy to know that my company allows me the freedom to do such extravagant brews.  For the last few weeks I have been able to actually see the results of my tireless self promotion.

So there you have it.  A selfless person such as myself can actually promote themselves well enough to make a difference.  My confidence has skyrocketed because it is good to be recognized for the work you do, despite the fact that I cannot take a compliment to save my life.  I will not be able to make the Craft Brewers Conference because of the cost.  But the GABF is still in my sights, as is the North American Organic Brewers Festival in June.  The excitement continues and I have YOU to thank!

Cheers,

the confucian brewer

Brewed Beverage of Choice:  A Pint of Hopworks Seven Grain Stout
For months I have been contemplating the idea of a beer style that was uniquely Portland.  That is right!  I am advocating adding another beer style to the 140+ styles already out there.  Munich has the Municher lager.  Vienna has the Vienna lager.  Dusseldorf…the Alt.  Cologne (Koln)…the Kolsch.  My dilemma, however, is this.  Can tehre be one unique beer style that can fully complement such a diverse culture as Portland?

In Milwaukee and Chicago, two cities in which I have lived, finding a unique style is simpler because both cities still cherish their European heritages.  One would figure a good lagerr would suit them.  In fact when I go home to Milwaukee, the first beer I get is Lakefront’s Riverwest Stein which is an Amber/Vienna Style lager.

I am not insinuating that Portland does not cherish its heritage.  I am still amazed by how much the citizens love their city.  Believe me.  I am one of them.  But I am also one of the majority of modern Portlanders: a transplant.  Native Portlanders are an endangered species.  At least they are in the fact that they are not as vocal about Portland as the transplants are about where they come from.  As one would suspect, this diversity created by the transplants causes an identity crisis of sorts.  It also makes it difficult to come up with something that says, “Portland!”

As beer styles go, the Northwest Pale Ale is the most common answer I get when I pose the question to other beer geeks.  But I find this style too bland to be Portland.  Of course the Portland beer style would have to be hoppy.  After all, we live in the middle of America’s hop fields.  The Portland style would also have to be organic with all the Sustainability geeks who call Portland home.  Again…Myself included.  But organic and hoppy are all I can come up with.

Maybe the answer is to make the beer style more regional.  The Bavarians have their Weizens.  The Flanders region of Belgium have their Sour Red and Brown ales.  Brussels and the Peyottenland have the Lambic and Gueze.  Maybe the answer is to have a style that says we are from the Willamette Valley or the Columbia River Region.  That way we can include Vancouver, WA, Eugene and Salem.

Perhaps the final answer is not to create a beer style that says, Portland.  Perhaps we should just celebrate the diversity within our brewing culture.  You can walk into a brewpub or brewery within the city limits and the tap lineup is as diverse as the culture living within the same city limits.  We have brewers who are doing their own version of the Sour ales of Flanders.  Brewers who do Alts and Kolsch.  Brewers who are masterful at the ales of Britian.  So what better way to celebrate our diversity of culture with a diverse lineup of great artisinal brews.

My mind can and will chew on this for a bit longer.  If you are a geek from the area who has their own idea, send it my way or come to the Green Dragon on April Fool’s Day and we will hash it out over a pint.  Right now I have to get on my bike and finish the last leg of my commute…in the snow…

Prost!

the confucian brewer