The keys to my happiness
March 31, 2011
This is going to be one of those really interesting entries because, although this looks like a boring picture of my keys by my front door, upon closer inspection you will realize that yet again we combine two of my great loves—rabbits and beer. That’s exciting, right?
I’ve had both of the key holders forever, though I installed the upper one only this past weekend after having lived in my current home for five and a half years. I bought the bottom one as naked wood at some place like Jo Ann Fabrics or Michaels and painted it with stain I had left from the rickety dorm room loft I built out of 2 x 4s and nuts and bolts but no fancy joints. Thinking back on it, it’s a wonder I’m alive to tell the tale. The color was the closest to black I could get. It was the 80s, after all.
The top key holder probably came from Lyndale Garden Center (no longer in business), and in your own shopping adventures you’ve probably more likely come across the cat version, where the hooks are the cats’ tails. Of course for the rabbits, they’re just hooks and I had had it up for decoration in my old place. In my current place, an 18-unit condominium, I have built up an impressive collection of my neighbors’ keys—from cat-sitting to main water shut-off access to I don’t know why. A few weeks ago I was rummaging around for something else and came across the holder and realized that it would be the perfect device for storing the other keys in a more accessible way, rather than jumble in the box in which they currently reside. Me being me, I’ve only managed to walk two sets of other keys the ten feet over to it thus far.
As for my own keys, I have two sets. The “big” set that includes my car key and some extra loops, and my “little” set that doesn’t, which I take when I don’t, you know, have to drive. And this is where the beer comes in and your perseverance is rewarded. The little set lives on my Bell’s Oberon tag. Oberon is, you may recall, one of my top favorite beers, and was, in fact, just released Monday for the 2011 season. Spring is not far away when the Oberon flows.
My big keys had a personality change recently. For quite some time they had sported a green whistle sponsored by Corona. If you have learned anything about me, it’s that I don’t drink thin, light, yellow beer. But the Corona whistle was also a bottle opener, so I tolerated its presence. A couple of months ago, there was an upgrade. I attended the Odell Red Ale release party at Pizza Lucé downtown and got swag, including a snazzy Odell bottle opener key ring. Buh-bye, Corona whistle.
I also noticed, in laying out the new picture of my key rings, that I apparently put my car key back on the opposite side the last time my car was in for service.
See? I told you this would be interesting.
Amazing beer dinner with Summit Brewing
March 13, 2011
One of my favorite breweries, Summit, sponsored a fancy dinner at Bank Restaurant downtown last night. I’ve seen the notices about previous beer dinners. This time, the restaurant was along the linear mile and three quarters between my office and my home, and on a Friday. The announcement said that Summit founder Mark Stutrud would be there to host it. I eagerly anticipated adding to my collection of photos of me with the owners of my favorite breweries. What a perfect way to end the work week!
I made my reservation for one. When I arrived at the restaurant my worst suspicion was confirmed. I wouldn’t get to sit at a small, corner table by myself reveling in good beer and good food. No, I would have to join a large, round table with a bunch of people I didn’t know, which would undoubtedly involve talking to them. I sighed and accepted the first beer, Summit’s delicious India Pale Ale.
At this point, participants were standing around on the fringes of the seating area and bar. I had ended up between two groups, people who were obviously associated with the brewery, and civilians. Thankfully, the first of the hors d’oeuvres came around, the smoked kielbasa, red beet horseradish, and onion jam, daintily served on a funny spoon, followed by an oyster shooter, and fancy popcorn.
At this time, I should probably disclaim my overuse of the word fancy in this report.
A Summit Maibock, as well as Mark Stutrud, also came around during the hors d’oeuvres, and I made what was probably a bit of a gaffe by asking for his thoughts on the Minnesota liquor law changes that Surly Brewing is advocating. I got an earful of a different perspective. What a way to make a first impression on a person whose beer you love! Well, I’ve never claimed to be good at small talk.
Mark moved on, and I became aware that the brewery group was wondering about facts related to Japan’s earthquake and tsunami. I spend half my workday listening to world news, so I felt compelled to interject what I knew. I was only trying to be helpful. I ended up talking for a few minutes to Sue and Carrie.
The restaurant guy who was managing things indicated that it was time to have a seat for dinner. Sue didn’t hesitate to invite me to join their table which I gratefully did, and that was the action that ensured my having the best time I’ve in a while.
The delicious food arrived (as usual, my photographic documentation was thwarted by very low lighting). First was a fantastic scallop with bacon and some fancy, dribbled sauces. Mine was gigantic compared to the others which didn’t displease me, because I love scallops! It was served with Summit’s flagship Extra Pale Ale. That is hands down one of my favorite ever beers. Then came a fancy fried chicken puck (referring only to the shape, not the quality) with, among other things, Pop Rocks as part of the garnish, and served with cornbread and Maibock. The “main” course was a Red Ale braised lamb shank with barley and gravy, served with—you guessed it—Red Ale. For dessert, it was an oatmeal baking powder “coffee cake” served with ice cream made with Summit Porter and served with the same.
I so thank Sue and Carrie for being nice to me. You all know I would have been just fine lurking on the fringes keeping to myself. But it ended up being such a blast. Everyone around the table (clockwise from my left: Shawn (J.J. Taylor Distributing), Patty, Rollie, Mark, Sue, Carey, Katie, Tom (COO), and Dan) managed to engage me in conversation at least once. I think Shawn the distributor was getting annoyed with me because all the beers I was saying I liked weren’t ones he distributes, except for New Belgium Ranger IPA, one of my current favorites. I completely had a brain freeze about remembering how much I love Deschutes Hop Henge.
Anyway, I eventually figured out that Sue is Mark’s wife. I got my photo with Mark, and what I love about it is that we look like we’ve been friends forever. Well, I have been friends with his EPA for a long time. Oh! And Sue apparently went to highschool with Tony Magee, owner of Lagunitas and former sponser of my Monday bowling team. They were all engaging, but I could kind of check out when I needed to.
I think I will definitely try to go to the next Summit dinner, whenever that is.
Amazing rabbit-powered beer-delivery machine
March 5, 2011
Today I set my English-major brain to work on a mechanical problem—designing a complicated machine to do a simple task. Are you surprised that it involves beer and a rabbit?
Now that I think about it, I suppose my brain was trying to go in a Wallace & Gromit direction. I imagined all sorts of cogs, pulleys, and ropes, powered by my rabbit Robbin, to get another beer from the refrigerator across the twenty-foot span to me lounging in my comfy desk chair because I just couldn’t be bothered to get up. I have, after all, previously established that I am, at the heart of things, lazy.
The trouble with my rabbit-powered beer delivery system—and really, it’s a system more than an actual machine—is that poor Robbin ends up as forced labor, with which I definitely disagree.
So then I started thinking more abstractly about the beer delivery system that’s in place in the state of Minnesota and made a feeble flow chart. It’s particularly relevant because at this very moment, Surly Brewing is in the midst of a campaign to rewrite Minnesota’s archaic alcohol laws. The one that impacts me personally is the one that prevents liquor stores from being open on Sundays. How backward is that?
The one that impacts Surly, which I have indicated in my flowchart, is that they must utilize a third-party distributor to peddle their wares. When I went on the brewery tour a few weeks ago, the beer that I partook of on the brewery premises was technically not a “serving,” it was a “sample,” because in Minnesota, breweries (except for the smallest “brewpubs”) are not allowed to “serve” on-site. Surly is seeking to change the law so that they can build a new, bigger, better brewery facility that includes a restaurant and beer garden in which they’d be able to—*gasp°—sell and serve glasses of—*gasp*—their own beer.
The Minnesota Licensed Beverage Association (MLBA, the state distributor) seems to think this would be a problem. Perhaps it’s because, if Surly expanded their capacity, they’d have to (once again, by Minnesota law) start using the MLBA to distribute their beer, which they currently don’t have to because they’re too small. How is one new restaurant on the brewery site any more impactful to the MLBA’s profits than a new restaurant or bar at, say, Lake Street and Lyndale Avenue? Doesn’t make sense. The MLBA does not lose in the Surly brewery expansion.
Anyway, then I tried to use pictograms to illustrate the Minnesota beer delivery machine. I thought it would be more interesting, but I don’t think it really is, other than the part where my rabbit and two cats silently judge my beer habit.
Hangin??? at the Cooper
January 27, 2011
Maybe you don’t know what to expect when you walk into a new place for the first time, but thanks to Bizzy, some of the element of surprise is taken away with its recommendation engine.
Bizzy already knew that I like Kieren’s Irish Pub, O’Donovan’s, and ADORE Brit’s Pub. So there was a good chance that I’d feel a kinship to the Cooper Pub & Restaurant which it recommended for me, and so I did. And that’s for two reasons, the second of which follows from the first.
I probably don’t need to admit it in public, but I am a bit of a beer nerd. The Cooper doesn’t have an extensive selection of beers but the ones they do have are good, and what’s more, they’ve managed to get branded glassware in the optimal shape that’s correct for enjoying each beer to the max. That thrills me! From a purely aesthetic perspective, I love drinking beer from a glass emblazoned with its own logo, and that these glasses are in various shapes designed to enhance your beer-drinking enjoyment of that particular variety (such as IPA or Pilsener or Stout) is a bonus. I appreciate that.
For those who need to know, the Cooper has Guinness Draught, Boddington’s, Newcastle, as well as local favorite Summit EPA, and several others on tap. They also stock at least five (yes, FIVE) varieties of Jameson Irish Whiskey. Turns out the Cooper is owned by Kieren, and Kieren is Jameson’s best customer in the US. Just like Minnesota is Bell’s best market for Two Hearted Ale, but I digress.
In addition to, and peripherally related to, the branded glassware is something I’ve notice from sitting at the bar. Every few barstools, there is a privacy divider. It’s lovely etched glass framed by darkly stained wood. And when you look at it more closely it’s—wait for it—IN THE SHAPE OF AN UPSIDE DOWN GUINNESS GLASS! None of the bartenders have been able to tell me if that’s intentional or not, and it doesn’t matter. I’m assuming it is!
Thus far, I’ve been there a little bit later in the evening. There is a happy hour menu and from that I can say that the mushroom and herb pizza, as well as the fish bites, are tasty options. But I’m mainly focused on beer.
The staff, in particular, bartender Casper on Monday nights, are eager to accommodate your needs. As British-style pubs in America go, this one is rather cavernous, but the service and selections make up for it, especially if you’ve never actually been to Great Britain.
Go to the Cooper! Or at least see where the Bizzy recommendation engine sends you. Chances are, it’ll work out as it did for me in Minneapolis!
Photo from The Cooper’s website.
Resolve to be resolute, sort of
January 2, 2011
Coincidentally, on this weekend that we change years, I have ended up pondering two things that come up at this time of year–calories (ergo, dieting) and envisioning the future. Tonight we’ll address calories.
A couple of days ago, I dug through my cupboards in search of the food item that contained the highest number of calories per serving. I chose to abide by the serving size listed on the packages even though those are often quite different than what is actually consumed. Except for the brie.
For the most part, I don’t keep junk around. Several people had naughty desserts but the worst I thought I could do was olive oil. But that only has 126 calories per tablespoon serving. No, it turned out that the whole wheat spaghetti was the worst at 210 calories per serving. The only other dry foods I have are various beans, canned tomatoes, and sugar-free Jell-O.
That it was the spaghetti surprised me, but when I got into my refrigerator, there was nothing unexpected. I didn’t figure it would be butter (102 calories per tablespoon) or any of the various cheeses I keep around (100 calories per ounce, give or take). No, I knew the beer would be the biggest calorie offender.
I don’t mess around with these 55 or 64 calorie “beers.” I like the chewy stuff. Unfortunately, my beloved India pale ales pack a punch. They hover around or just under 200 calories per 12 ounces. My seasonal favorite, Celebration Ale by Sierra Nevada, checks in at 214. And my new favorite which I was introduced to at Thanksgiving, Three Philosophers by Ommegang, weighs in at a hefty 294 though, in its defense, it is 9.8% ABV.
Honorable mention does go to the brie cheese. A couple of weeks ago, I got a two-pound wheel on sale for $10. I only wanted one wedge, but when the wedges of other brands were anywhere from $5 to $7, it seemed silly not to go for the big wheel. So although an ounce is about 100 calories, I’ve not been wasting any time eating it up before it spoils, and each time I have some brie I also have some lower-fat Triscuits, seven of which are 120 additional calories. So for sheer consumption at the moment, the brie and crackers wins, regardless of what one actual serving is noted to be.
However, in the long run, it is beer that does me in. As an American woman, it is only natural for me to lament my too-large size. As a beer drinker, it is entirely within my power to do something about it—if only I didn’t love it so much and had more willpower.
I stopped making New Year’s resolutions long ago (the last two I remember were to eat my Five A Day and to never buy white underwear again) and I don’t intend to try to make one today. Every night I go to bed thinking that tomorrow I will exhibit moderation. Just about every day it doesn’t work out, and if it does it’s more by accident than by design.
So yes, tomorrow I shall endeavor to consume fewer calories, but not because of a New Year’s resolution. I will try because I know it would be good for me, and one of these days I will accomplish it, and then I will accomplish it for a second day in a row, and then a third …
December 24, 2010, December 30, 2010
Gone to the Swan
December 2, 2010
I spent almost all of my time in London, but there was one side trip. Dan thought it would be fun to combine an outing to the country with tracking down one of the honorees on a top pubs list by the Guardian. That was Swan on the Green in West Peckham, Kent.
We took the train from London to Wateringbury. The Wateringbury station house was a charming old building with lots of interesting shapes and angles.
From there we had an about four mile walk to West Peckham and the Swan.
The town of Wateringbury seemed pretty typical. I noticed a few of these World War II plaques on walls along the road. Other than Ground Zero in New York City, we don’t really have physical battlefields on the continental United States from recent times, so I thought they were pretty interesting. Most of my knowledge of the war comes from television programs like “Foyle’s War.” It was a little eerie in a way seeing these markers of people’s pride in their war effort, and definitely humbling to see firsthand evidence of something I only know through Hollywood representations.
We walked on. This was pretty typical of my view—Dan and Casper way ahead. I thought I was a fast walker, but Dan walks really fast. I didn’t always bother to holler that I was stopping to look at something and take pictures, like when, being the Midwestern girl that I am, I got a kick out of hey, they grow corn here, too!
Along the way, we thought we’d stop at Mereworth Castle and have a look around. As we approached the “castle,” which was really just a large manor, a woman came running out and inquired, rather suspiciously and in a thick Slavic accent, what we were doing there. We learned that it was a private residence not open to the public and beat a hasty retreat back to the main road. Instead, I settled for taking what turned out to be my favorite photo that I’ve taken so far on my iPhone 4 of roses in the yard of the church in the town of Mereworth. I love the colors and the blown-out exposure of the background.
Mereworth is also where we crossed a street named, appropriately enough, The Street. That tickled my funnybone.
We continued to walk without incident, except for Casper’s alarming tendency to occasionally drift out into the road, until we reached West Peckham. We triumphantly strode up to the Swan on the Green, ready for a tasty beverage to refresh us after our walk, only to find that they were closed until suppertime. Anticlimax.
Casper set up watch and we endeavored to kill over an hour, which included playing backgammon and exploring the neighboring church yard.
Casper talked us into a few ball sessions on the eponymous green across from the pub until, at last, it was once again open for business.
We were excited because we knew they made their own beer. I always enjoy sampling new and local brews when I go places. By that time we were also famished and enjoyed a nice meal.
It was soon time to go, though Dan determined that we were a little too late to catch the last train back to London from Wateringbury, so when we got back as far as Mereworth (approximately), we went to The Queen’s Head Pub (StreetView), whose sign we had seen on the main road, and called a cab to take us somewhere else—to Tonbridge, I think (correct me if I’m wrong)—to catch the train from there. We had just enough time for one more thirst quencher while we waited for our ride.
It was almost a disaster—the cab driver informed us that dogs were not allowed, but we didn’t have to work too hard to convince him otherwise. It seemed like the car ride to Tonbridge took as long as the whole train ride down had earlier in the day, but at last we were speeding toward home. We were all quite pleased when we arrived back at the house.
Good old country comfort
November 5, 2010
I’ve never thought of myself as someone who takes comfort in things. I’m not the one who runs out to shop when I’m in a mood (what mood is one in when one comfort shops? I don’t even know), or who binges on donuts and potato chips when I’m upset. Buying a new pair of shoes does not make me feel better.
Nevertheless, I cannot deny how much I enjoy food and drink, and how I use both as comfort and reward. I know donuts and potato chips are technically food, but they’re junk foods so I discount them—empty calories of processed flour, sugar, potatoes. I feel slightly superior that my comfort food takes the form of pizza (dairy and vegetables with a little flour in the thin, flat crust that I prefer) and beer and wine (I experience a chemical imbalance from it).
I engage in a favorite comfort combo is when I’m feeling lonely. Not because I’m always alone because I’ve freely chosen and embraced the singleton lifestyle which I’m generally fine with, but due to those periodic occasions when I actually wish I had another person around. Nothing soothes me like a big old broiled steak, a giant salad with lots of veggies and vinegar and oil dressing, a movie such as “Bridget Jones’s Diary” or “Under the Tuscan Sun” or a James Bond (wha?) and a bottle of red wine, preferably one of my favorites like Pepperwood Grove Old Vine Zinfandel (a steal at about $7 or $8 per bottle). I’ll be hopelessly weeping by the end of the movie but the next day I’ll feel very satisfied and emotionally refreshed.
I guess beer’s just a general reward for having made to that point the next day. There aren’t many days that go by right now that don’t include a beer or three. I suppose I use it to compensate and comfort myself for the things that I have to deal with in daily life that I’d rather not have to, like working for a living. Not the best reason, but there it is.
Pizza always brings pleasantness to my life—sometimes more than others, as I have forgotten how to stop eating after a sensible amount. I LOVE PIZZA om nom nom nom nom …
When I am getting lunch during a work day, one of my favorites is the lunch special at D’Amico and Sons. I get the Caprese Panini and Tuscan Chicken Soup. That’s a fancy way of saying tomato soup and grilled cheese. Who doesn’t love and wouldn’t be comforted by that? Delicious tomato-based soup with a cheesy overtone and gooey mozzarella sandwiched (pardon the expression) between perfectly toasted and crinkled slices of Italian bread.
I’m sure I could come up with a few other go-to comfort foods (can you say Chipotle chicken burrito, black beans, easy on the rice, sour cream, cheese, tomatoes, and green salsa, or The Brothers Deli totally awesome clam chowder on Fridays?) but I won‘t try. You get the idea.
And as for comfort of the flesh and blood kind, how about your cat lounging on you, or giving you a kneady back rub before she flops herself down against you for the night. What’s that? You say you have a human partner? Kids? Pshaw.
The three Bs: bowling, beer, and broke
September 19, 2010
It’s not too much of a mystery what makes up a large part of why I live paycheck to paycheck. Every now and then I “like” to actually add it up and make a fuss that I’m going to pretend to be more thrifty—with the drinking, not the bowling. Bowling is what passes for my social life.
I bowl in two leagues per week and usually drink steadily during the evening (certainly by now you’ve gotten the impression that I like my beer). Most of the time I also eat supper at the bowling alley.
Fall leagues go for thirty or so weeks, roughly coinciding with the school year. I myself also bowl for thirteen weeks in the summer. I’ll base these calculations on thirty weeks. You’ll get the idea. And I’ll still be horrified by the actual numbers, just like I am with my age when I think about the actual number.
$750 = $25 x 30 Monday league fee
$810 = $27 x 30 Thursday league fee
$405 – $540 = $13.50–$18.00 x 30 Monday Summit EPA
$373.50–$498 = $12.45–$16.60 x 30 Thursday Surly Furious
$210 = $7 x 30 Monday Buffalo Chicken Wrap
$150 = $5 x 30 Thursday mini pizza with two toppings (in my top three favorite pizzas in the Twin Cities metro)
Ugh. Are you good at math in your head? Did you add it up already?
$2698.50–$2958.00 for 30 weeks in two leagues.
And that doesn’t include tips or the drink or two or three at karaoke afterwards on Thursdays.
That’s a chunk of change. How are you “frivolous” with your money in these tough times?
Liquid love (the rest of the story)
July 24, 2010
Today I had to identify my favorite summer snack. If by summer you mean those months here in Minnesota when it isn???t snowing and if by snack you mean something that is a treat, then my answer is Bell???s Oberon.
The Bell???s website describes Oberon as ???an American wheat ale brewed with Saaz hops. Spicy and fruity, Oberon is the color and scent of a sunny afternoon.???
It sure is!
I don???t pretend to know all the nuances of ingredients and varieties; historically I don???t like wheat beers, especially if they???re varieties referred to as hefeweizen or weissbier. The flavor tends to be sweeter than I prefer and I usually get a near-instant headache from them. But something magical happened when I tasted Oberon for the first time.
I was at a wine tasting event with a friend of mine who feels about wine like I do beer. He also works part-time at a liquor store and so often gets to go to these distributor-sponsored events, which I believe this was. There is also some sort of food to nosh on; in this case it was several local restaurants that had tables sprinkled throughout the floor.
I had been up and down a few rows and tasted many wines and found myself at the Murray???s Steakhouse table. The chef was serving up beef bites saut??ed in butter, garlic, and mushrooms. They tasted heavenly. The stage was set.
Banished to the overflow tent adjacent to the main hall were a few breweries, including local favorite Summit, as well as a couple of others including Bell???s Brewery from Michigan. My experience with Bell???s at that time about five or six years ago was hearing my coworker (and beer guru) rave about their Two-Hearted Ale. I had tried it and was unimpressed because at that time, my palette had not yet begun its rapid transition into liking hops.
Being at a tasting and being willing to try new things, I walked up to the Bell???s table, explained my slight experience with Two-Hearted, and wondered what else I could try. The first sample I was given was Oberon. It looked pretty light and yellow, but with some body. I was still savoring the flavor of the steak bites. I sipped the Oberon. I was in love!
I know it was largely because the beef had primed my taste buds and then the beer complimented the beef. I still think of it as serendipity and one of my favorite dining experiences. If I hadn???t had those steak bites I probably wouldn???t have been floored by the Oberon. But I had and I was. And the rest is history.
So every April, I look forward to the appearance of Oberon???s bright blue carton and sunny logo on the shelves of the coolers. When I see it, I know summer can???t be too far away.
(As an aside, Minnesota is apparently Bell???s??? best market for their hoppy Two-Hearted Ale. I have since come to greatly appreciate that masterpiece as well.)
My drink of choice (second runner-up)
March 11, 2010
I suppose the time of day would determine what I would say to this. In a shootout at the OK Corral, water would probably win because it’s the most versatile and the best for me. For fun, well, you all know I love beer. But beer isn’t always practical, and I also covered it in a previous post. So for this entry, the winner is coffee.
I do coffee backwards. I drink decaffeinated in the morning and regular in the afternoon. It’s like this. I get addicted to the caffeine very quickly, so I have to be careful. If I have a couple of cups two or three days in a row, I fall victim to that awful caffeine headache if I don’t start getting my fix soon enough on subsequent days. That is why I started drinking decaf years and years ago. So that I wouldn’t get hooked on caffeine.
In the last year or two, however, regular coffee on a regular basis has crept back into my life, after lunch. It’s sort of like when I started smoking again the last time. I thought, oh, I’ll just have this one and it’ll be just fine. Next thing you know, you’re smoking close to a pack a day. Same with coffee. One afternoon when I was bored, a little sleepy, and there was already some made, I drank a cup of regular coffee. And guess what—I perked up. Maybe once a week I’d do that. Well, now I’m drinking two or two and a half mugs an afternoon. On Saturday at home when I don’t make coffee for myself, I am visited by the splitting headache. I usually just take a few aspirin (not Excedrin, my prefered pain-reliever, because that’s got caffeine in it) and tough it out, only to start over on Monday. I still drink decaf in the morning. My reasoning these days is that presumably I’ve just been sleeping all night and should be rested and not need artificial stimulants. I also believe that morning caffeine reels me in a day or two faster than afternoon coffee. My name is Kelly and I am in denial.
Just to recap on my beers of choice, we have (L–R): Summit Extra Pale Ale, Surly Coffee Bender, Bell’s Oberon, Lagunitas India Pale Ale, Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 