Yes, you can freeze a beer in just a couple of seconds — provided you are willing to invest a couple of hours in preparation, which makes this “trick” a little “trickier” than I’d hoped.
Still, it’s a neat science experiment. Um, if you want to waste a beer:
(via Coudal)
A little while ago, I saw this recipe come across the news wire as “excellent for Father’s Day.” Well, I dunno about that, but it certainly caught my eye.
The concept is simple — use a dark porter (they’re all the rage, recently, seems like every brewery is coming out with a dark beer) and add some vanilla ice cream to it.
Hmmmm. Because the source of the recipe was the Rickard’s brewery, and because my mom had decided to have ice cream as dessert for us on Father’s Day, and because when I went over there, there was Rickard’s Dark in the fridge, I figured I would try one of these floats.
The only other ingredient besides beer and vanilla ice cream is a drizzle of maple syrup. On the side of the bottle of Rickard’s Dark, it says it’s brewed with maple syrup, so I guess that makes sense.
Anyway, just like ice cream in Coke, the beer suds up in a foamy way, and the flavour combination works actually pretty well. I mean, it’s not mind-blowingly awesome, but I would do it again.
My sister, who doesn’t drink beer, said she would try one again. No one who took a sip spit it out in disgust. It worked better as the ice cream melted and the flavours ran together a bit — otherwise, you’re just drinking cold, foamy beer and then eating ice cream (actually, that’s a problem with all floats) — but it certainly wasn’t terrible.
Verdict: Worth trying once, just to say that you did.
First it was the “Cold Certified” bottle, in which the label changed colour when it was sufficiently cold enough, and now Coors has made another leap in cold innovation.
Enter the “Cold Activation Window.” It’s a little window in the box that turns transparent when the beer is cold enough.
I, like most people, don’t want warm beer. But seriously, when did touching the bottle not become good enough? Or just putting in the freezer for five minutes? Yes, it’s good for when you’re at the vendor and you know what was just put in the cooler, but come on, you’re not drinking the beer the moment you step outside.
Instead of focusing all of their energy on ways for you to see that your beer is cold, maybe they should focus on making it taste decent — more like Coors Original, which is great (but you can’t get in Canada).
(via Geekologie)
I know, I know, it’s not even Mother’s Day yet, and I’m posting about Father’s Day? But I just came across this neat idea for packaging that I think would make a great gift, some Sunday in June. Check it:
That’s right, Dapper Beer features a tie on the label, nicely, ahem, tying together two father-y stereotypes. Put a hammer on their other beers, and you’re set.
I’m not actually sure if this is a microbrew you can buy, or if it’s a one-off project for a guy making beer at home who happens to work at a design agency (it was designed by David Day and Associates) but I love the concept. They even have a six-pack box designed.
I could see different ties denoting different brews — skinny ties, paisley patterns, bow ties — and a whole line of beers that aim for a sophisticated look.
(Found at Lovely Package.)
This is part of a British Film Institute series on “King Coal” and the British coal mining industry. But thank goodness they decided to take a detour into the “local” (pub) and show us how coal contributes to brewing beer circa 1959.
BFI has a ton more films on their YouTube channel.
(via A Continuous Lean)
Be honest with yourself — when was the last time you thought about Bosnia and Herzegovina? Was it during the Olympics, upon a casual mention of Sarajevo, host of the ’84 Games? Because if not, I’m willing to bet your last thought about Bosnia and Herzegovina was probably related to either war, “ethnic cleansing” or war crimes, or perhaps the Dayton Accords, if you’re a real wonk.
Not me, though — because I just drank a Bosnian beer.
Yes, in the world brews section of my local liquor mart, I noticed a bright little “New Product” sign, and I can never resist those. So I picked up a bottle of “Nektar” beer. And it turned out to be brewed in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Since 1873.
Keen-eyed readers will notice not only that Amy has a thing for tulips, but also that I’m using a mug engraved with “Quill” — keepsake and memento that goes back all the way to my student newspaper days. Ah, memories.
Anyway, none of my beer-in-glass pictures turned out, but I can tell you that this was an easy-to-drink, very pleasant lager. It had a nice golden colour, and it wasn’t too hoppy nor too bitter. But, really, I’m easy to please when it comes to beer.
I’m just glad that Bosnia has a beer that gets exported. Go Bosnia! (and Herzegovina!)
Related to my previous post, I came across a site today that translates for you one of the more important phrases in any language: how to order a beer.
Sure, in English it’s “One beer, please” but did you know that in American it would be “Brewski here, please!”
Some other languages from the full set of 50:
| Lakota (Sioux) | Wan-jee m’nee-pee-gah, ee-yo-kee-pee! |
| Latin | Cervisiam, sodes! |
| Lithuanian | Pra-shau vie-na, al-lows! |
| Norwegian | Ehn url, tahk! |
| Old English | An beor, nu! |
The New York Times — a newspaper that many others could do well to emulate — has decided to weigh in with its journalistic might on one of the most pressing issues of our day: Which Belgian ale is best?
They sampled 20, including several that I can’t buy in my hometown liquor mart. But I was happy to note that Maudite — a beer that once got me surprisingly drunk when I was just 19 and happened to live near the brewery in Quebec — made top-five.
Way back in November, I posted about the Tactical Nuclear Penguin, a new beer by BrewDog, in Scotland, which claimed it was the world’s strongest, at 32%.
I’m afraid I have to yawn at that, now.
The Germans, you see, wanted the title — so a German brewery called Schorschbrau released a beer that has an alcoholic content that’s the same as vodka or rum. That’s right, the Schorschbock clocks in at a staggering 40%.
Not to be outdone, BrewDog has struck back — a brew called “Sink the Bismark” (clever) is described on their website as “a quadruple IPA that contains four times the hops, four times the bitterness and frozen four times to create at a staggering 41% ABV.”
Oh my.
I really hope that this competition is as good-natured as this video from BrewDog makes it out to be:
Of course, at 40-plus per cent, I don’t think this is a beer you buy a case of, and shotgun. No, this is a sipping beer. And I actually find it interesting to see how these two breweries are playing with the perception of beer, and “distilling” it down to its essence.
(Oh, and good news: Beer apparently is good for your bones.)
Please, visit and ponder the wisdom of BeerHaikuDailly.com:
A bit of advice
If you want to drink all day
You must start early
(via Coudal)
I find the online craft sale Etsy to be hit and miss. But user hammeronsteel, a blacksmith from Massachusetts, is a definite hit. I particularly like the twisted-railroad-spike “churchkeys” to open beer bottles.
I carry a bottle-cap pryer on my keychain (it’s from Sweden — thanks Denise!) but I would love to have a gigantic, threatening-looking one made from an enormous steel nail, maybe hanging from a strip of leather in my garage (I don’t currently have a garage, either).
Best of all is the pointy end, if I happen across a really old-school can that has to be punctured. (The one above has the point bent back for safety, but some of them are left extended. I long to find beer in such a can — I think it’s just tomato and pineapple juices these days.)
Churchkeys with twisty handles are $44, plus shipping (I’m guessing they’re a tad heavy, too). You can also get non-twisty ones for $39. The item descriptions are drool-worthy:
Each of these beer defense tools started off as a railroad spike I found while walking tracks. Years of weather and rust have deeply etched their mark into the material itself. After I bring them back to my shop, I heat them to thousands of degrees, and beat them many times with my hammer. After the final clean-up, all the rust is whisked away, and we’re left with a great tool that has a great history.
On another listing, they are given quite the warranty:
These openers comes with a two-generation guarantee: if they fail for any reason during your life, or the lives of your children, I’ll do what I can to make it right. If it fails for your grandkids, maybe they shouldn’t have tried to take it on interstellar travel.
And, why do I always find such great things a month after I tell people that “I don’t know” what I want for Christmas?
Ebenezer’s Pub, located in the tiny town of Lovell, Maine (population: 974), is the best beer bar in the world.
But don’t take my word for it (I’ve never been there — except in my dreams). Try reading some of the reviews on their website:
Sometimes, an experience is so rewarding, so beyond your expectations, that it’s almost divine. My visit to Ebenezer’s Pub in Lovell, Maine, was one of those experiences.
That’s from United Nations of Beer. There are similar superlatives from RateBeer.com, and from Beer Advocate magazine (which named them best beer bar in the world for the last three years), among others.
With 35 Belgian beers on tap and 700 rare bottles stashed away as part of the bar’s half-million-dollar inventory, the former “redneck bar” has turned into a beer mecca.
I just finished reading about it on Boston.com, which gives you a great introduction into the pub and its proprietors. That includes the fact that, some days, you can sit in the bar and have it almost to yourself. But in the summer, during their August beer festival, “visitors camp out in tents on the adjacent golf course – despite the $250 per person prix fixe menu.”
Wow.
Time for a trip to Maine?
Just putting that out there.
One time, I was talking to the landlady of an apartment I was renting, and she was complaining about boxes full of old beer bottles that were clogging up her store room. They were stubbies — probably four dozen of them, if I remember rightly. She offered them to me, but at the time, I couldn’t take them.
I kick myself now.
On a related note, anyone know where I can get a few dozen old-style stubby beer bottles? (I’d prefer vintage ones, I don’t really want to drink a bunch of Red Stripe and save the bottles.)
If spending $30-some on a gigantic gummy bear doesn’t turn your crank (maybe it turns your stomach?) then try these on for size.
The Bier Boot Haus sells, among other things, large glass boots designed for drinking beer. The pair above is $45 — but that’s a litre of beer in each boot!
The available sizes appear to range from shot-glass-size to a full 3 litres (that’s 100 full ounces!)
Feel free to splurge on me for Christmas, folks.
(via Coudal)
Because I am Canadian, I scoff at beers that contain less than 5% alcohol. So-called “light” beers, which can be as weak as 3%, are like drinking water — watered-down water.
So how about a beer that has 10 times that amount of alcohol? I mean, we’re talking an amount of alcohol that would qualify as hard liquor.
Thank-you, then, to the Scottish brewery BrewDog. They’ve released a beer called Tactical Nuclear Penguin (love the name, btw) with a staggering 32% alchohol content.
Personally, I love the idea. But not everyone does. From the BBC:
Jack Law, of Alcohol Focus Scotland, described it was a “cynical marketing ploy” and said: “We want to know why a brewer would produce a beer almost as strong as whisky.”
Well, if you have to ask, I’d guess you’re not in the target market. Also, I don’t trust anyone with the name “Jack Law.” Too ‘government.’
A label on Tactical Nuclear Penguin says:
This is an extremely strong beer; it should be enjoyed in small servings and with an air of aristocratic nonchalance. In exactly the same manner that you would enjoy a fine whisky, a Frank Zappa album or a visit from a friendly yet anxious ghost.
Unfortunately, the beer is £35 — a tad pricey for my tastes.