How to be Awesome: a diagram

I'll spare you the details of yet another grill session posting, but I will add this shot of my ribs just after applying a rub (the rub is 8 parts dark muscovado sugar, 3 parts sea salt, 1 part chili powder; and then some black pepper, red chili flakes and fresh thyme for good measure). The photo shows a half-rack of baby backs. Note the 3 others behind it all ready to party.


'Wrence

And where the hell have I been?

Answer: Driving around in the back of a tiny Volkswagon with a ferocious hangover, towards the ends of buying bacon and witnessing an old friend's wedding.

That's pretty much it.

I don't know why, but I chose to start off my long holiday weekend by staying up until 5am drinking with the Greeks on friday night....er, Saturday morning, rather. So after being woken up subliminally by angry messages from the 'Bones, which I sensed were festering on my voice mail, I had approximately 75 seconds to dress myself & make coffee, and then drive nearly 5 hours to this place, home of the best bacon I've ever had the pleasure to shove into my craw. Seriously, it was torturous, but so worth it. Even though we basically drove all the way to my Dad's house in Saratoga, with my piss being timed and held perfectly at the ready, the 'Bones then surprises me by CONTINUING TO DRIVE an additional hour to get our pork on. Damn.

After finally arriving at the home of our Patriarch, my family immediately opens up beers; I choke down the bile which had crept into my throat, and excuse myself for more torture: a 2 mile run. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. But things just went downhill from there. It was a blur for the next 48 hours; there was drinking, there was youtube (my father's favorite new toy), there was lots of food, there were friends around that I hadn't seen in 4 or 5 years, there were people whose names I forgot, drinks I spilled on people/various pieces of furniture, and still a few more people whom I didn't even get a chance to see, and a severely painful mountain biking experience.

All in all, the wedding was dope, as far as weddings go. I am ALWAYS apprehensive going to a wedding, I know not why; but I always end up having shitloads of good times at them. This was certainly no exception. Timmy's rendition of "Easy Like Sunday Morning" during the reception was hands-down his best performance to date. I only pray that his tender vocal chords stay in condition for the next 60 years, in the unlikely event that I someday go through with such a ceremony myself. Extraordinarily unlikely.

I leave you with an appropriately blurry and red-faced photo of 'Wrence and the 'Bones, which pretty much says it all.



On to next weekend, where the talk around town (at least around the general 6-inch area surrounding me) is of home made sausages on the grille


And Russo, if you're reading this: Mother Fuckin Cheers Bro

'Wrence

Where I've been hiding

A long absence from the blog requires some quick catching up on my comings and my goings. But first, some business...it has come to my attention that a loyal reader of Bros11 got hisself a wife this weekend. Mark Alan Russo, please stand up...now let's hear it for Mark everyone. Ok, thanks....here we go.

Spent Tues-Thurs last week on a team-building retreat for my new gig. I'm quitting my financial services job to go back to school...and part of that includes me taking an assistantship to help pay for school and give me some pocket moolah. So this retreat thingee was like a training thing for that. Hanging out with 20-21 year olds is pretty cool, but definitely conspires to make you feel old. I won't dwell on it, let's just say that that whole experience left me needing some serious buffoonery to prove that I am still capable of partying like I'm not legal.

So I took myself down to Charlotte, NC where a couple of my friends from school have a house on a lake. This place is pretty unreal...like dock-in-the-backyard unreal...or ridiculously-well-stocked-bar-in-the-basement unreal. We had a solid crew coming in for the weekend, probably about 10 bros and affiliated hos in total. Did lots of eating, lake swimming and cornhole playing....beer drinkery was also indulged in with reckless abandon. I hit up Total Wines when I was down there...pretty solid and broad selection. I picked up a bottle of Brooklyn Brewery's Local 1 which is one of my favorite beers around. I also tried the DFH Midas Touch which was definitely interesting....not really in my wheelhouse but definitely interesting especially when you consider how the recipe was formulated.

On Sunday we joined the shirtless masses at Lowe's Motor Speedway for the Coca Cola 600 Nascar event. Imagine the Super Bowl happened in your backyard once a year and that basically explains the level of excitement and participation that takes place at this thing. Miles upon miles of RVs, campers, tents, and haulers all there just to party. Shotgunning was the order of the day...as was Sparks. Sparks was not shotgunned however for fear of the ramifications. It was a blast though and we were all very thankful to our gracious host and hostess for putting up with all of us and making it such an awesome time. But they don't read this blog....so I don't know why I am mentioning it here.

Got a 8 am flight Monday morning after partying all weekend and being up till 3 am on Sunday night. Landed in Boston at 10...by 10:30 I was home watching The Last Waltz and crying. By 1 I was Scituate-bound with my friend Alyssa for more beer-drinkery and pool-hang-outitude. We stopped at Shaws for some food and witnessed a fat kid take the spoon from the Crab Dip sample station, lick the mothersnuffing spunk out of it and return it to the container. Then we watched as two or three people used the same spoon to try the stuff. Too shocked to intervene, we sat quietly by as this enormous crime against humanity was perpetrated. Then we got our produce and left.

The afternoon consisted of lounging, eating about a pound of steamed mussels myself, followed closely by not one but TWO pound and quarter lobsters. So tasty. Then we stopped to get milkshakes on the way home. Suffice it to say I need to take a dump.

&Ry

Grille Time/Bottling night

Tonight, despite the rain, I grilled. It was well deserved, I think.

I stopped at Savenor's on the way home, the idea being to splurge on some red meat. A beautiful rib eye steak was spotted, scoped out, and greedily purchased. The girl painting the chalkboard sign out front was beautiful. It was sunny. I happily skipped home. I had just time to change my clothes, start the coals in the chimney, and open a brew-ha when it started to rain on me in my driveway. Then, it started to rain harder. I shook my fist to the heavens, and let loose a torrent of chopped vegetables, bathed in a fresh thyme vinaigrette, skewered mercilessly upon bamboo stilettos of death. The steak simply had a suggestion of salt & pepper, and was cooked to medium rare. All was well.

After a brief digestion break, catching up on the replay of the Champions League final in Moscow earlier today (Man-U won in PKs), I began phase two of operation: awesome; bottling my latest beer, a substantially large IPA, which was modeled after one I had made back in December. The newest could easily be said to be a solid improvement over what was already one of my favorite homebrews. This one clocks in close to 8% booze by volume, according to amateurmash, and is expectedly nice and malty. A sweet alcohol presence is also there, and welcomed (by my mouth). The hopping is right smack in the middle of balance-land; accompanied by generous aromatics from the late kettle additions and the dry-hopping. God I love drinking flat IPA right out of the carboy.

Also, I racked the mead that I....umm...meaded last week. The recipe is impossibly complicated, but click this link for a list of ingredients, if you dare.

And last-ish, I would like to mention that, while perusing this neat-o blog tracker thingy that RyToy installed, I noticed that in addition to the numerous cities represented across North America, we recently had a visitor from Bombay India here at Bros11. So I say, WELCOME! I hope you've enjoyed reading our little crap-cake of a website, and please do come back!

Bonsoir, mes amis

'Wrence

Big Brown

So, I named this brew kinda out of nowhere after throwing the 'pe together in AmateurMash, which happened a day before Big Brown won the second leg of the Triple Crown. If I had been thinking more clearly, I may have decided to commemorate the occasion in a more suitable fashion. If Big brown DOES go on to take home the first triple Crown in 30 years just a week before this bitch will be drinkable, I may have to retroactively change the name. That said, for the time being I give you I Think It's Brown: An Ale.

'wrence came over for the assist, this after a weekend full of moving heavy shit for him and partying like a Belushi for me...so a nice calm relaxing brewday was sorely needed for both parties I suppose. The 'pe remained basically the same as the one posted below, with a few small changes. I only used 1/4 pound of Chocolate Malt...I was only really using it for color anyway and I think a full half pound would have made it a bit darker than what I was going for. As far as the hoppage goes, I used an ounce of the Glaciers for the full boil and an ounce of Vanguards for 15 minutes as an aroma addition.

The brewday was rather peaceful as far as my brewdays go. That is not to say that there wasn't plenty of mayhem, it's just that it was a bit more contained than usual. I spilled shit every time there was shit to be spilled and I yet again forgot to take a gravity reading...this despite the Gravity Police being there in person.

As far as what we did while there wasn't doughing in, sparging, Vorlaufing, decocting, boiling, hopping, cooling, racking, and pitching to be done...how does this look? 'wrence was kind enough to bring drinkables over for the purpose of fully enjoying our leisure in the proper fashion. We started off, however, by splitting one of my most recent creations "Give Me My Money Back" Pale Ale. A clean, well-balanced pale ale that is closer to the dark side of the style...lovibondally speaking. 'wrence declared it a success and advised that I send it in for a judging, at least to get some feedback.

Next we sampled a 750ml bottle of 'wrence's Honey Wine (don't call it a mead). This baby was nice. I think I would have enjoyed it even more if I wasn't rocking about a 65 on the hangy index. Nice and light bodied with a good floral nose and a just sweet enough finish, it was tasty and could definitely prove to be quite the bad-decision inducer under the right circumstances.

The last brew we tried was the Flanders Oud Bruin by Leifmans (I may be wrong on the exact name here)...this was a nice sweet, somewhat tart/sour red ale with noticeable funk contributed by the Brett used in secondary ('wrence told me that). I could definitely see myself enjoying this style more and more with repeated exposure..and I would imagine that the Liefman's would rank near the top.

As far as mangibles, we hit up the L Street Diner down the block for some pretty solid pie and a buffalo tenders...my ass is still on fire from those for the record.

All in all a solid brewday...and my hydrometer remained out of harm's way throughout. I am psyched to get this little guy into bottles, down my throat, and back into the hydrologic cycle pronto.

&Ry

A brown ale to be

So, I played hooky from work yesterday due to some previous personal/professional/educational/awesome-al engagements. So I took advantage of the day off to drag the sorry load of crap that I call my butt up to the LHBS (Local Home Brew Store in the parlance of our times). It's been a while since I brewed up something and I am thinking the time is probably right. It had also been a real long time since I got out to the place...definitely not since the craziness of this year's hop shortage that everyone is all freaky outy about.

Walked in to find the place incredibly well stocked...eerily so even. It was dead silent (sometimes there is at least some music playing) and the guy behind the counter wasn't on the compy or reading or drinking or doing the crossword...nothing. He was just sitting there looking around when I walked in which I think we can all agree is completely disturbing and weird.

Anyhoo, I was happy to see that the place had a good supply of hops from a volume perspective...I mean at least I would have some plant matter to dunk into my boiling wort. The varieties they did have in volume were kinda random ones that I hadn't seen before though like Glacier, Cluster, Vanguard, and Spalt. I grabbed some Vanguard, which had a nice mild floral aroma, and some Glacier, which had a stronger more citrusy/grapefruit thing going on. I'll use the Glaciers to bitter and the Vanguards for aroma...should be pretty tight methinks.

I was disappointed to see that the MOAGM (Mother Of All Grain Mills) is no longer on site at this place. That thing was the balls. You could throw a good 7 pounds of grain into it at once and it would have it all milled lickity split. So instead, I had to switch to the pitiful by comparison, and extremely unreliable, smaller mill. I was lucky though and my 11 pounds of grain milled perfectly, albeit slowly. Here's the recipe as it stands right now, I'll be tweaking it a bit when I get home and run the numbers on AmateurMash (which I have yet to do as this was a sort of spur-of-the moment recipe):

#7.5 British Two Row
#2 Munich Malt
#.5 Crystal 60
#.5 Crystal 90
#.25-.5 Chocolate Malt (this is the most variable part of my recipe at this point)
1.5 oz Glacier (6.3% aa) 60 mins
1 oz Vanguard (4.8% aa) 10 mins
Pitching this mama on a washed cake of Beast from my last pale ale

Hopefully it comes out well. I don't have a name for it yet, so that should consume most of my waking hours until I brew the crap out of it on Sunday. In the meantime be good, boys.

&Ry

Week day Beer having

A tale of two nights and two bars in an otherwise slow and sleepy week

Tuesday night was cask night at CBC. This week, the new IPA, Red God, was on cask. It was presented "straight up" -and by that I mean it was not dry-hopped. I would have preferred some more of that awesome fresh hop aroma in this brew, but it was delicious none the less. A very malty, rich, ruby red double IPA, and the hopping is all about balance here. It weighs in at 8.5% abv (IBUage unknown as Will generally doesn't bother with the calculations). When I had this brew a few weeks ago (when it had first come out on tap) it had a more pronounced hop character; it seems to have mellowed a bit and dry hopping would have definitely racheted it up another notch or two, but damn this is a stellar brew. Also that night I had their Spring Training IPA, a great expression of the style, with a lighter body and color than its big brother; and finally their award winning amber, always a favorite of mine.

Then last night I ended up out again - rare for me these days indeed. The venue was the venerated old Bukowski's Tavern on Cambridge Street (above pic). This place gets a lot of flack these days from the beer geeks, and to be fair the place has changed a lot over the 3 years I've been going there. The prices are sky-high and the pours are generally in the 12 to 14 ounce range, even for the normal strength beer. The music selection has gone down a steep hill since Max & the Gang left to open Deep Ellum, but it still holds a place in my heart as this is one of the places I "cut my teeth" so to speak, when I really started to get into this whole beer thing. Plus, the people that hang out there are more chill, more tattooed, and not so much into the beer snobery as those that you can get at say, The Public House, for example. I had the Opa Opa IPA, which was so good I almost can't believe it was brewed in Massachusetts (that's not a slam, Bay Staters). Followed it up with the Southampton "Secret Ale;" its only secret being that it was a modest expression of a Dusseldorf Altbier, but very drinkable and a welcome session ale among the bigger boys on Buk's tap list.

Sorry for the dry nature of this morning's post...it's been a rough week and I think I need to sleep for a solid day or four. Let's hope RyToy comes through for us all in the meantime.

From dream-land (my cubicle, pre-9am),

'Wrence

Mom's Day meal = Incendiary

So, for Mother's day, the 'Bones and I ventured out to the country to spend some time with the woman who was nice enough to create and subsequently raise us: Mom.

The idea was to do your basic mind-blowing 3 course dinner on saturday night, and then just relax on Sunday with an easy breakfast and a nice little hike somewhere. Last week, 'Bones and I were watching an episode of Bourdain's show on travel channnel in which he was visiting and cooking in northern Italy; we were inspired to proceed along such an avenue ourselves.

We decided to start with a basic antipasti course, followed by a pasta course, and then a meat course. Bones would handle #2 (as is his wont- ZING!) and I #3.

To rachet things up a notch, I decided on diving into some ARTICHOKES; Bones & I operated, removed the hearts, and marinated them in lemon juice and some water. They were later quartered, slathered in olive oil, salt, and herbs; and then grilled up nicely. These were served, dressed in aged balsamic, with a nice salami and some asiago cheese for the first course.

Bones worked up his normal magic with the home made pasta, including a sauce with cream, cheese, and some of the braising liquid from my dish. Oh, he also melted some fresh ricotta on top to make it sexy (see photo at the top).

The third course was a braciole, which I'd never done before. I guess, traditionally this is served as a middle course, but fuck that, this isn't Italy, it's goddamn Massachusetts. I wanted this to be the main attraction. Started with skirt steak, pounded the uncle-tripping bejesus out of them until they were about a quarter-inch thick. Then they were stuffed with a mixture of grated pecorino, farm eggs (which made the stuffing a brilliant yellow!) and some bread crumbs. The little meat burritos were then rolled & tied with butcher's twine. Brown in a pan, remove, sautee your aromatics, de-glaze with a bottle of red wine. Then in goes about a dozen fresh tomatoes that I had grilled earlier (I don't think I'll ever go back to canned tomatoes after doing it this way) and then the meat goes back in. I think I threw some pitted black olives in as well. Once it's simmering, into the oven for an hour-plus (at least) braise.

Shit came out so good we forgot to take pictures. Well, we did take pics, but my Mom inadvertantly deleted them all. So I leave you with some shots of a fire we started out in the back yard.

'Wrence

Yes, I love technology...

I was going for my little jog tonight. Nothing special...like 2.5 miles down the block, around the Castle Island/Sugar Bowl loop in Southie for those of you who are familiar. The weather today was pretty rough...chillier than it has been in a few weeks...like mid 40s at best. Real overcast, very gray...and with a bitching wind whipping up something fierce. It was one of those days where prior to heading out, I sat around in my house in my running shorts and sneakers with my headphones in and no music playing for a good 20 minutes or so before I finally convinced myself to stop being a piece of shit and get it over with. I was hungry after all and dinner wasn't making itself...at least not until I ran.

So I took myself outside and it sucked. The wind was in my grill the whole way out. Usually it is in my grill on the homestretch...which sounds shitty but is actually better because by the time you get to the end you are warmed up and feeling pretty decent...and even though it is harder with the wind in your face, you know the whole way that it's almost over so you stop being a pussy and suck it up. Today wasn't like that, like I said. The whole first mile and a half were into this crazy ass wind that made it feel like I was running with a brick in each pocket. It was one of those deals where if it had been a little bit warmer out I may have actually turned around and walked back home...but if I tried that shit today I know I would have wound up freezing my balls off.

Anyway, as I was running I was listening to my iPod as I am wont to do. This thing is a fucking piece of shit. I originally got my iPod on Christmas 2003. That one lasted just under a year before it shit the bed...lucky for me it was still under warranty so I brought it back and got a "new" one. By the time I went to get my replacement, they were no longer making the kind that my original was...so I was hopeful to get a newer/cooler iPod. Not so. They hooked me up with another vintage 10GB clunky piece of shit. The thing at this point can last just about the length of my run before it farts in my face and tells me the battery is dead. I am getting a new one soon I swear. Anyway, as I ran, I was listening to The Bends by Radiohead on shuffle. A quality fucking album by any estimation. I usually run to a mix I made of songs that get my adrenaline going, but for some reason today I decided to go with the Radiohead.

Bobbing along, the only one out on the loop at 6:30 on a cloudy, windy, old night I turned the last corner at the end of the long jetty and headed toward the end. Just as I did so "Bones" was ending and I was kinda wondering what was going to come one next. I typically will click until I get a real good song for the finish...you know, to help me gut out the last bit. "Fake Plastic Tress" came on and I came this close to passing it by. It starts slow and is kinda calm and quiet and I didn't think I wanted to hear it...but I let it go and just settled in for the last straightaway. The calmness of beginning relaxed me as I went. Just me and the soft smooth tones of Thom's voice. Taking in the dimmest beginnings of what would be a mostly obscured sunset on a cloudy night with the wind pushing at my back. I found myself becoming completely enveloped by the song...feeling the building emotion as it continued, I became so much more aware of where I was, what I was hearing, and where the song was bringing me than the repetition of my pumping legs and gasping lungs. Not once for the last two minutes was I aware of my foot hitting the ground and bouncing off again. Although I am sure my breaths were heavy, it was as if I wasn't breathing at all. As the song cascaded through its unbelievable climax, I looked towards the steadily approaching "finish line" and wasn't surprised at all as a tear came to my eye. It was the most beautiful feeling I have had in a very long time...possible only through the magic of an aging, clunky, and miserably finicky batteried iPod.

&Ry

Cask Ales and Galvanized Nails

I'm down in NYC this weekend for Mother's Day and my cousin's First Communion party today. Took the bus down from Boston...took for fucking ever due to the usual Friday traffic and the fact that we are apparently got the remnants of the Myanmar cyclone or something. I had the pleasure of sitting next to a petite blonde on the bus ride. As she was bending over to get something out of her bag when we got on I scoped a little boobage down her tank top. Yeah I know it's creepy and I am sure Angie wouldn't approve, but what was I going to do? LOOK AWAY?!?!?! Hardly. In any event the trip took five hours and I arrived at Port Authority with a robust thirst.Headed up to my buddy John's place on the Upper West side. He's getting married soon and his engagement party is today, so he couldn't go all out last night but we crushed some beers just the same. Started out with a couple of Boggs before we headed over to a place called George Keeley's on Amsterdam and 83rd.

Keeley's is a legit NYC bar. Dark and wooden throughout. A few tables line the side wall and the bar stretches an impressive length on the opposite wall. It has a couple of TVs and an always occupied dartboard. Standard I guess, but the beer selection is anything but typical. Every time I get down to the city I try to hit this place up. The beer list is always changing and they always have some good shit on tap without fail. I went to High School with the kid who manages the place and he seems to have developed the same kind of affinity for beers as I have. I took a picture of the blackboard with my phone cam which explains the shitty quality.

I noticed on another board that they were offering Blue Point's Spring Fling or something like that on cask....so I jumped at the chance. I have had Blue Point's Toasted Lager and their Hoptical Illusion Pale Ale and have been very impressed in the past. Always feels good to support the local booze peddlers. It was nice and fresh tasting, very clean...a good pale ale. Not an overwhelming hop presence, but there was definitely a decent amount of nice floral hop aroma and a smooth citrusy bitterness that I enjoyed thoroughly. I easily could have drank these all night, but there were a few other offerings on tap that I wanted to try.
Next up, I think, I had a Red Rocket Ale from Bear Republic, which was also quite tasty. Dark and somewhat sweet it had a very complex flavor profile that was just delicious, if a little bit on the heavier side of things. I may have had something else after this that has slipped my mind at this point. All I know is that soon after the Red Rocket I made the mistake of telling John's roommate Sean to grab me "whatever that Rogue beer they have on tap is." I have had Rogue's stuff before and have always been pretty cool with it. What I did not realize was that this particular Rogue offering was the brewery's attempt at a Chipotle beer. THIS SHIT WAS VILE!!! It had a slightly discernible smoky aroma which I found fine, since I have had and made beers employed smoked malt before. I was anticipating something similar. Then I tasted it and all I can describe it as was this disgustingly overwhelming mishmash of jalapeno pepper and feet...shit covered dog feet even. It was repulsive....I never throw beer away or let it go to waste, but that pint sat there the rest of the night taunting me with its obnoxious nastiness. I switched to the safer Dogfish 60 which did me fine the rest of the night as it always does. I am pissed that I didn't take a peek at the beer list sooner because I would have obviously tried the Captain Lawrence Liquid Gold...FOR THE NAME ALONE!
All in all a solid night though and a worthwhile bar to drink at...which is all you can really ask for I think.

&Ry

Friday Afternoon

My propensity for wasting time in the WOLRD WIDE WEB towards the end of my work-day led me to this picture. I cannot determine if these guys are complete losers OR just totally awesome.

Your vote decides the outcome.

'Wrence

Summer Weather

Hey kids, 'Wrence here;

Not much of any terrible importance going on; except, that is, the gradual and inevitable increase in the kick-assitude of the weather here in Boston. It seems like summer has suddenly sprung right from the bowels of crap-laden mud & street garbage itself. Why, just last week was I treated to the miraculous sight, as RyToy & I waited for a bus at Harvard Square, of an adult HAWK, screeching down from the heavens, TALONS OUTSTRETCHED, who dove into a nearby bush and then came back up with a fucking RAT in its carnivorous clutches!! Yea, it was probably the most badass thing I've ever seen in the city. Period. Exclamation point.

So anyway, when the 2nd consecutive day of sunshine, 60 degree temps, and a smooth summer breeze (makes me feel niiiiiice) hit me, I decided that it was time for me to take out my trusted and true little charcoal grille. The wimpy, pathetic, 14-inch diameter job that anywhere outside of the city would probably result in me being laughed off of something in an humiliating fashion, is PERFECT for my 7 x 30 foot driveway.

On the menu was a nice fillet of steelhead trout, dressed with olive oil, lemon juice & some herbs. Also a melange of grilled vegetables was produced (and thoroughly enjoyed), along with some goat cheese crostini. All this was cooked and consumed pretty much completely in the driveway, making cleanup not really even necessary. Score. Add a bottle of really good, decently priced California Cab. Score again.

Also, I felt so good I planted some marigolds in this big planter on my sidewalk. Over the last 3 years I have found that people throw less garbage in it if there are flowers there. Here is what it looks like:


I am proud.

Don't forget to call your mother on Sunday.

'Wrence

Portsmouth Brewery

As previously mentioned, I was in New Hampshire this weekend. Saturday night found us going out for a much more low-key dinner than the Friday night. We decided to hit up Portsmouth Brewery a brewpub in downtown Portsmouth. The place was pretty jammed, we had to wait about 35 minutes at about 7 or so. We sidled up to the bar in the meantime. They offered a variety of their own brews as well as some from Smuttynose, which is also located in Portsmouth.

I started things off proper-like with a wheat wine, which tasted remarkably similar to what I know as the Smuttynose Wheat Wine. In fact, I would not be surprised if they are one and the same. Maybe I will do some digging later on to see if that is actually the case. Either way, the wheat wine was delishis. Nice full bodied flavor with a nice subtle hop bitterness that helped avoid a cloying sweetness. No super burny alcohol flavor despite the high booze by volume number (I didn't see it written anywhere but I would imagine this one clocks in at no less than a 10% bbv.) After passing that around for Angie and her parents to try with varying degrees of like-itude we were able to grab a table.

I followed up my high grav opening round with a still high, though less so, Belgian Dubbel. This one was real tasty, in fact I could have drank at least 80 or 100 of these things no joke. Great malt character, not too heavy on the palate, just the right profile of Belgian funk that I get down with in my brews of this type.

I made the mistake of ordering the Stout Beef Stew. Boooooooo. It was a pussy attempt at a dish I really like. First of all, it was more like a stupid watery brown broth and less like an awesome gravy-ish stewy sauce. Second, it was served over egg noodles...which is cool if it is Beef Bougnioun or however the hell you spell if. But this wasn't...I was expecting a nice Irish style beef stew and was sorely disappointed. I punched the waitress, but she didn't seem to get why. In anticipation of an awesome Irish beef stew I ordered a Black Cat Stout, which I have had at various Beer fest style events...not that I remember any details beyond actually having had one. It was awesome as well. Brewhahas - 3 Food - 0. It had a nice roasted coffee profile, smooth as hell, clean tasting and very poundable. This is the kind of stout I would drink every day if given the chance. Man!!! I am still mad the food wasn't better because that would have been the tits.

In defense of the place though, Angie and her parents all really enjoyed their dinners (fish & chips, cheeseburger, and something else I forget) and they are of more discerning tastes than myself. So I would still recommend the place...sit at the bar though. The dining room area is weak.


&RyToy

Ah New Hampshire!!!

Spent the weekend up in New Hampshire with Angie's family. Got picked up directly from work on Friday and didn't get home until after 10 Sunday night...so it was a long weekend, but it was good to get out of the city and mingle with some laid back country folk.

Bob the Liar
Friday night's dinner was at this place...which is totally awesome. By the time we got to the restaurant, Angie's mom, dad, grandfather, cousin, and aunt were already sitting but we were still waiting for her sister and her sister's man to show up...this is when the weird stuff happened. While we ordered drinks and shit this dude (Bob) came over to talk to Angie's dad, who was sitting next to me. He like got up behind him and put his hands kinda around him, resting both hands on either side of Angie's dad's chest and got all up in his ear. I heard him say "Thank you for what you did. I am very sorry about what happened, dinner's on me." Angie's dad politely declined, but this dude was having none of it...so he accepted however reluctantly. He proceeds to tell the table that he had helped out some people with some estate planning that this guy Bob had brought by his office. Bob had made it a point of making sure Angie's dad knew that Bob was paying the bill. After two or three unanswered bills were sent, Angie's dad sent a bill directly to the couple...who likewise did not pay. So Friday night at Bonta was the first time this guy had seen Angie's dad and I guess he was embarrassed and this was his way of making up for it.
We proceeded to order dinner like sailors on leave. I had a rib-eye, there were a couple of people who had rack of lamb...we had tons of appetizers and a few bottles of wine. There were 9 of us, mind you. The bill comes from the waitress who says "I'll take this whenever you are ready." Confusion abounded and someone eventually talked to the maitre'd. It turns out, Bob had somehow gotten cold feet and told the staff that he was no longer paying for dinner...he never bothered to tell us though. He would have won in the end if he had though...dinner was ten bucks less than what he owed. It was later that I found out that Bob had spent 7 years in the clink for securities fraud or some other white-collar offense. That was Friday's excitement.

&RyToy

Brew Sesh

This post will be short and sweet, as it is late and I am tired.

Brewed the aforementioned IPA tonight. Had a small boil-over, but otherwise things went well. Here are the deets:

5.5 gallons

6# American 2-row malt
3# British 2-row malt
3# Munich malt
.75# Cara-foam
.25# Crystal 60

1.5 oz Amarillo pellets - 60 min
.9 oz Simcoe flowers - 10 min
.5 Summit flowers - 10 min
2 oz Summit flowers - knockout
(1.5 oz more Summit flowers for dry hopping later)

hit 1.072 for gravity (surprisingly high, but right where I was hoping)
anticipate around 75 IBUs

Yeast was wy1056 (beast) - cropped & washed from my last batch (a pant-load of it)
60 seconds of 02 & off we go

Sweet dreams, brew children
-'Wrence

Trivia Night in Southie

Spent Wednesday night this week having dinner, beer-having, and playing barroom trivia at this place. It has a high propensity for douchebaggery, especially on the weekends, but the trivia crowd tends to be a bit more chill. I went with my girlfriend Angie, her sister and her sister's new/old boyfriend. The Sox were on so people were watching that and the Celtics were playing game 5 against the Hawks as well, so there were plenty of people there for that. We had to wait a bit for a table but once we did I was quite pleased when I realized that in my immediate field of vision were no less than 11 televisions, all tuned to the same thing. I felt kinda like a fly or something.

Anyway, while we were waiting for a table, a few Coors Light girls who were walking around gave us free beers...all we had to do was take a picture. I guess I felt a little self-conscious since they appeared to be in their underwear and I was fully dressed. I am not usually a fan of fermented corn syrup, but when in Rome I suppose. Particularly discomforting about Coors Light is its attempt to insult my intelligence with it's label that changes colors. The label itself specifically says "When the mountains turn blue, your beer is as cold as the Rockies."

I mean, I get what they're saying...when the label turns blue your beer is cold. I am not silly enough to think that the label knows exactly what the temperature in the Rockies is at any given time. I mean, the Rockies are huge, they could be a huge range of temperatures. Anyway, my REAL problem is this: if you put a piss warm bottle of beer in a bucket of ice, that label is gonna turn blue long before the piss inside is even close to being far enough away from 98.6 degrees to drink it. Am I being nitpicky here? Anyway, about 15 minutes later, the same girls walked around giving away t-shirts to anyone drinking Coors Lights....us included. I was having a hard time telling whether they knew they had already given us the beers for free and they just didn't care or if they were really that vapid. Either way you slice it, my laundry schedule just got extended one more day...but for the record I opt for vapid.

Luckily, the Beer Garden has a halfway decent selection of some more craft-y beers. I indulged in bottles of Lagunitas IPA as well as a Rogue Dead Guy as we racked up point after point in trivia, eventually coming away with a victory and a $35 gift cert. I have to say though, the doorman helped us out by telling us what movie Reginald VelJohnson (the dad from Family matters) played a cop in...it was Die Hard. It did take us at least four or five repetitions of him saying Die Haaaahd before I realized that he was actually speaking English, but we were grateful for the help nonetheless. All in all a good night that more or less paid for itself which is about as much as you can ask for from a place with that many TV screens.

&Ry

Artichoke Anxiety

So it's spring now and I know artichokes are in season; I find my face almost constantly having them shoved in front of......at least, I keep seeing the nice displays of them at Whole Foods, and they do look nice.

While I love a good marinated artichoke or a cheesy dip, I have not much experience with them in the kitchen. I think, maybe once, I dissected a few, pulled out their still-beating hearts, and blanched the crap out of them before pureeing & making some sort of spread from them (I can't quite remember what the hell I was making, but I remember all those hearts sitting in a bowl of cold water & lemons).

But I keep hearing about how good those LEAVES are. "Man, you got to steam them, and then strip the flesh off of them with your teeth." -for some reason I find that terrifying. Maybe it's a tooth sensitivity thing, I don't know. It just doesn't sound like it feels/tastes too good. But I'm sure I'm wrong here.

The thing is, I'll probably never know, unless I get someone over to my house to show me the ways of the choke. I need an artichoke Yoda to guide me through this difficult endeavour! I need the spirit of Alec Guinnes to appear to me and tell me on what swampy planet I may find this mythical little guy!

Anyway - it took me like 10 minutes to paint that artichoke. Which is 10 minutes of my life that I will never have back....

In other news: I'm hitting the brewstore tonight to pick up grain for my next batch. I haven't brewed since March so I am getting back on the horse with an IPA - more or less based on the same grist as my previous effort back in November (which came out super smoothalicious). This one will feature nearly 6 ounces of Summit flowers which have been sitting, vacuum-sealed, in my feezer since Harvest, patiently await their date with Mr boiling wort. I'll let you know how it goes.

-'Wrence