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by Putnam Weekley Thanksgiving ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |
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What is Beer? Beer is wine of another fruit. The word “wine” is simply shorthand for the most common type of wine, grape wine. So other types of wine are qualified as cherry wine, apple wine, rice wine or barley wine. It’s all wine. It’s all sanguine. Blood of the earth. Nectar of the gods. As with “wine,” the word “beer” is shorthand too. Only in this case popular usage is short not for beer’s most elite rendition but rather for its most common one. Beer is no more synonymous with industrial lager than wine is with Sangria. If all I ever encountered when ordering wine was Sangria what would I possibly think of Louis Pepiere Muscadet or Schweiger Cabernet Sauvignon? (<$20, nope, not a typo folks, more on that later). I’d much rather drink Schweiger Cabernet Sauvignon than any Sangria. But then, I must admit, if Sangria was served for Thanksgiving dinner I’d slurp that down too, without hesitation; provided there were enough ice cubes. Wait a minute! I’m bringing the drinks. I can bring anything I want. So what’ll it be? I am asked the question 100 times every year and I return to my answer at the outset. If all drinks are considered, from fruit juice to scotch, from sake to Shiraz, there is just one drink that adds more than its part to Thanksgiving dinner: Biere de Garde … or something similar like pale, dry Bock, or Saison, or Brune. Every year the newspaper wine writers find (or rather, recycle) a new “angle” on what to drink with Thanksgiving Dinner. The object is to find a wine that isn’t too tannic. Drink Zinfandel, they say, because it’s all-American and its fruit dominates its tannins. But Zinfandel usually has alcohol levels bordering on jet fuel, a fact that makes it a crude partner to subtle turkey and stuffing. So drink Pinot Noir they say. I love Pinot Noir. It’s finicky. Proof of that is how sweet squash and cranberry sauce seem to bring out its ugly side. With roasted bird and potatoes alone Pinot Noir is king. With the other stuff it can be an awkward display of mud and spent tea flavor. It’s no use. I’ve tried Beaujolais and Riesling (too wimpy). I’ve tried Shiraz and Rhone (too alcoholic). Nothing seems to work better than bistro-style beer, primarily those made using Flemish recipes. Wait a minute … didn’t the Pilgrims make a pit stop in Holland (which is not far from Flanders)? Yes they did. Maybe that’s where they got the menu! And maybe that’s why the table drink of Flanders goes so darn well with it. Hallelujah! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Birra del
Vecchio, from Calabria: Purchased from the floor of a beer store, I wondered the following: 1) would this obscure Italian lager be fresh? 2) is this some kind of tourist-brand - overpriced like wines from Provence or coffee from Hawaii? In fact, there was nothing to fear. On the back label it reads: "Browed [sic] with natural. Ingredient (malt, hop)" The uncapped bottle burst to life with dense, pungent aromas of cut grass and golden cereals. The color was manila folder-yellow/tan and the head was soapy. A fruity, rich entry of subtle, bready flavors resolved into a tangy, bitter and long finish. The flavors included notes of overripe lemon. What astonished me was the voluptuous, creamy texture, supported by unobtrusive mousse, and how it was structured with noble mineral elements. Then it eased into cakey, bitter hop extracts to power the very long finish. This is a world-class, natural-tasting Pils. Fans of this category must seek it out (my sample was obtained at Poughkeepsie's Half Time.) By way of comparison, A Gaffel Koelsch served after this beer just could not measure up for style, character or richness. ![]() Previously in Putnam's Monthly: Putnam Weekley's Home Page and Main Index © Putnam Weekley 2005 |