I recently finished reading Fast Food Nation and wanted to write about it. Not wanting to say more about something that has been written about exhaustively, I decided to see what other people had to say about the book. As I performed some (admittedly cursory) research, I realized that a lot of readers don't seem to know what food is.
(I thought I'd respond to some of the negative hue and cry surrounding the book.)
The most common reasonable criticism of Fast Food Nation is that the book doesn't talk about fast food. People rail against Schlosser for blaming everything on kids dropping out of school to BSE on the shoulders of the fast food giants. These people do have a point in one regard. Every kid has a choice to stay in school or not; Burger King doesn't have a say.
However, anyone who maintains such a view against the book is exposing a gross ignorance about food.
I won't adopt the attitude of the stern moralist who laments at how "people these days" have lost a sense of connection between the source of their food and themselves. I will say, however, that I lost that connection. Maybe as an American I never had an appreciation for where my food came from. And finding this connection again has been a wonderul discovery for me, even as I acknowledge that I have a long, long way to go.
That hamburger you get at a restaurant came from somewhere. The meat came from cows, each with personalities, each raised in a particular environment of animal husbandry. That cow was then killed and processed into neat little quarter pounders. At each step along the way, people are trying to make a living. In buying six tacos for $5, you're supporting minimum wage paying jobs that don't provide employees with training or transferable skills. You're supporting meatpackers getting injured on the job. And you're supporting honest ranchers losing their land as they are increasingly bullied around by the meatpacking industry.
Food is more than something you shove into your mouth. Food originates from a place. Food originates from a person and is conveyed to you by people. What we eat and how often we eat it has historical and ethical dimensions. Food is what connects us to the earth and to each other.
I'm not advocating vegetarianism (I like meat too much). Nor am I suggesting that everyone has to slaughter rabbits as Thomas Keller did to realize the fundamental inescapable truth of cooking. That the goal of cooking is to transform something that lived into something worthy of that life.
Fast food falls well short of that goal.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Tasting Notes: San Miguel Pale Pilsen
To dovetail with my review of Kelly's Malaysian dinner, Kelly gave me the rare opportunity to try a southeast Asian beer. She brought back a 330 mL can of San Miguel Pale Pilsen for me to try.
The San Miguel brewery has been around since 1890 and was once considered a world-class brewing operation. Now, however, it seems to have floundered in trying to settle for the bottom line. It's easily the largest brewery in the Phillipines and is said to have a 90+% market share in many southeast Asian countries. It also brews two truly abominable brews under liscense: Miller Genuine Draft and Löwenbräu.
To say that I had high expectations for this particular macro would be a lie. Nevertheless, I thought I'd give it a chance.
Pleasant aromas filled the room the moment I cracked open the seemingly quaint 330 mL narrow-mouth can. Upon further investigation, the first aroma I picked up was decidedly metallic. I associated the aroma with brass. Beneath the metal, there was a generic citrus aroma that stymied all of my efforts to provide a more exact description. As the beer warmed up, a pleasant hint of mushroom started showing up.
As I poured the beer into a glass, a large head was raised. It dissipated almost completely within three minutes of pouring. The color was very pale, lighter than Mountain Dew when held up to a nearby lamp. Plenty of carbonation graced the beer, although it seemed to express itself with unusually large bubbles instead of a melange of smaller ones.
The flavor seemed light for a beer of 5% strength, and lacked a lot of qualities that I expect and enjoy in this style. Make no mistake about it: this beer is brewed in the international pils style, not the Czech-German pils tradition.
There's a light malty pils flavor that seems to run the gamut of the tongue and then stop on a dime. I was impressed by this finesse and control. Many smashmouth brews have macho flavor experiences that could only dream of exacting such a precise blow.
On the other hand, the pils style ought to be well hopped. It should have a crisp flavor brought on by the bitterness of hops and elaborated by perfuming hops. This beer, however, has no detectable hopping. It pretty much only plays its generic malt flavor, except for the occasional hint of mushroom or cranberry as the beer warms. The aftertaste is really where the good flavors are. There's a complex malty aftertaste that makes you want to sip it, which is difficult given the beer's quaffability.
If the ingredients list is to be trusted, this beer might actually have been brewed in the Reinheitsgebot tradition. It lists only malt, cereals, and hops. Upon examing their website, however, I doubt that the beer meets that standard of purity. Practically all brewers that adhere to the Reinheitsgebot boast about it online. That San Miguel makes no mention of the issue is evidence enough for me.
For all of its faults, this beer is extremely well balanced. The taste and the aftertaste are like sitting on a swing on a nice summer day. The direct malty flavor is elaborated upon by the complex malty aftertaste.
I'm not so sure that I'd put money down to buy this beer myself, but it was an intereting and educational experience.
The San Miguel brewery has been around since 1890 and was once considered a world-class brewing operation. Now, however, it seems to have floundered in trying to settle for the bottom line. It's easily the largest brewery in the Phillipines and is said to have a 90+% market share in many southeast Asian countries. It also brews two truly abominable brews under liscense: Miller Genuine Draft and Löwenbräu.
To say that I had high expectations for this particular macro would be a lie. Nevertheless, I thought I'd give it a chance.
Pleasant aromas filled the room the moment I cracked open the seemingly quaint 330 mL narrow-mouth can. Upon further investigation, the first aroma I picked up was decidedly metallic. I associated the aroma with brass. Beneath the metal, there was a generic citrus aroma that stymied all of my efforts to provide a more exact description. As the beer warmed up, a pleasant hint of mushroom started showing up.
As I poured the beer into a glass, a large head was raised. It dissipated almost completely within three minutes of pouring. The color was very pale, lighter than Mountain Dew when held up to a nearby lamp. Plenty of carbonation graced the beer, although it seemed to express itself with unusually large bubbles instead of a melange of smaller ones.
The flavor seemed light for a beer of 5% strength, and lacked a lot of qualities that I expect and enjoy in this style. Make no mistake about it: this beer is brewed in the international pils style, not the Czech-German pils tradition.
There's a light malty pils flavor that seems to run the gamut of the tongue and then stop on a dime. I was impressed by this finesse and control. Many smashmouth brews have macho flavor experiences that could only dream of exacting such a precise blow.
On the other hand, the pils style ought to be well hopped. It should have a crisp flavor brought on by the bitterness of hops and elaborated by perfuming hops. This beer, however, has no detectable hopping. It pretty much only plays its generic malt flavor, except for the occasional hint of mushroom or cranberry as the beer warms. The aftertaste is really where the good flavors are. There's a complex malty aftertaste that makes you want to sip it, which is difficult given the beer's quaffability.
If the ingredients list is to be trusted, this beer might actually have been brewed in the Reinheitsgebot tradition. It lists only malt, cereals, and hops. Upon examing their website, however, I doubt that the beer meets that standard of purity. Practically all brewers that adhere to the Reinheitsgebot boast about it online. That San Miguel makes no mention of the issue is evidence enough for me.
For all of its faults, this beer is extremely well balanced. The taste and the aftertaste are like sitting on a swing on a nice summer day. The direct malty flavor is elaborated upon by the complex malty aftertaste.
I'm not so sure that I'd put money down to buy this beer myself, but it was an intereting and educational experience.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Malaysian dinner
My friend Kelly invited some friends over recently for a sampling of authentic Malaysian dishes.
Now, mind you that my knowledge of Malaysian cuisine is limited to what I read about it in the September/October 2001 issue of Saveur and an episode of No Reservations. In the magazine article, James Oseland experiences the cuisines of Melaka. If you're as geographically ignorant as I am, Melaka is a state and city toward the western part of Malaysia. So the dishes I experienced are not strictly from the same region, but the high praise he dished for the cuisine ("Malaysia was my France; my palate came alive there") piqued my interest.
Kelly prepared three dishes: pau, tom yam soup, and a tapioca dessert.
Pau are steamed rolls. They were filled with either pork or sweetened bean paste. I was told that they strongly resemble the Chinese bao zhe (Chinese-philes please feel free to correct my spelling). They were delicious, although it's certainly not something that I'm accustomed to eating. I found that this was a creative use of beans, since I'm accustomed to them in French (e.g. salade de lentilles) or in the Mexican/Mexican-American traditions.
The tom yam soup was good, too. She used a Lee Kum Kee brand base, and added green beans, broccoli, red bell peppers, and shiitake mushrooms. The batch was then split. To one half she added prawns and catfish; to the other portion, Kelly added fried tofu. This was all served over cellophane noodles. All a very good combination of fish, vegetables, and exotic seasonings.
Finally, the dessert consisted of tapioca boiled in water until soft to the bite. Some tapioca was placed in the bottom of mugs. One could then add coconut milk and/or palm sugar. Because I have a limited ability to eat tapioca on its own and didn't mix the dessert well, I actually wasn't able to finish it. But I imagine that with more exposure, I could develop a taste for it. And I quickly realized that it would look amazing served in wine glasses.
We drank reconstituted soy milk with the meal (served piping hot!) to keep with the traditional nature of the meal. As a Wisconsinite, I always thought there was something sinister about soy milks. I realize that there's an Asian tradition extending back nearly one thousand years of making milks out of soy beans. It's one of those things that when you apply a label to a product, you expect certain qualities. It's the same thing as when Heston Blumenthal served lobster ice cream. Customers didn't like it because they expected ice cream to be sweet. When he renamed it lobster bisque, his customers enjoyed it for what it was.
I tried to enjoy the soy milk as it was, but I couldn't drink much of it before my body started asking me why I was drinking it. Still, I'm glad that I at least gave it a try.
A German weissbier or a Belgian witbier would both accompany all three courses admirably. Saison would be an excellent partner will all of the complex flavors in the tom yam soup.
Now, mind you that my knowledge of Malaysian cuisine is limited to what I read about it in the September/October 2001 issue of Saveur and an episode of No Reservations. In the magazine article, James Oseland experiences the cuisines of Melaka. If you're as geographically ignorant as I am, Melaka is a state and city toward the western part of Malaysia. So the dishes I experienced are not strictly from the same region, but the high praise he dished for the cuisine ("Malaysia was my France; my palate came alive there") piqued my interest.
Kelly prepared three dishes: pau, tom yam soup, and a tapioca dessert.
Pau are steamed rolls. They were filled with either pork or sweetened bean paste. I was told that they strongly resemble the Chinese bao zhe (Chinese-philes please feel free to correct my spelling). They were delicious, although it's certainly not something that I'm accustomed to eating. I found that this was a creative use of beans, since I'm accustomed to them in French (e.g. salade de lentilles) or in the Mexican/Mexican-American traditions.
The tom yam soup was good, too. She used a Lee Kum Kee brand base, and added green beans, broccoli, red bell peppers, and shiitake mushrooms. The batch was then split. To one half she added prawns and catfish; to the other portion, Kelly added fried tofu. This was all served over cellophane noodles. All a very good combination of fish, vegetables, and exotic seasonings.
Finally, the dessert consisted of tapioca boiled in water until soft to the bite. Some tapioca was placed in the bottom of mugs. One could then add coconut milk and/or palm sugar. Because I have a limited ability to eat tapioca on its own and didn't mix the dessert well, I actually wasn't able to finish it. But I imagine that with more exposure, I could develop a taste for it. And I quickly realized that it would look amazing served in wine glasses.
We drank reconstituted soy milk with the meal (served piping hot!) to keep with the traditional nature of the meal. As a Wisconsinite, I always thought there was something sinister about soy milks. I realize that there's an Asian tradition extending back nearly one thousand years of making milks out of soy beans. It's one of those things that when you apply a label to a product, you expect certain qualities. It's the same thing as when Heston Blumenthal served lobster ice cream. Customers didn't like it because they expected ice cream to be sweet. When he renamed it lobster bisque, his customers enjoyed it for what it was.
I tried to enjoy the soy milk as it was, but I couldn't drink much of it before my body started asking me why I was drinking it. Still, I'm glad that I at least gave it a try.
A German weissbier or a Belgian witbier would both accompany all three courses admirably. Saison would be an excellent partner will all of the complex flavors in the tom yam soup.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Bar Review: Genna's Lounge
Location: 105 West Main Street, Madison, WI 53703
If you live in Madison, you've probably walked past Genna's and thought it was little more than a cocktail bar filled with the countless suits who work at the Capitol. You know what I mean. And yes, I'm told that they're known for making some fine cocktails but I went in undercover and wanted to see how they were doing with beer. After all, they do advertise for the Tyrenna Brewery (Milwaukee, WI) right in their window.
The building itself is situated on a triangular corner, thus resulting in an unusual right-triangle layout inside. You enter along one of the corners and face the bar. In front of you are a small number of clean tables surrounded by comfortable bar chairs. To your left is a selection of cheeses, crackers, and other food items. I didn't try any of it. The walls are adorned with classic Guiness posters, lending an Irish pub like theme to the place. But it wasn't as convincing as, say, Brocach. This is not the kind of bar you want to stroll into wearing bar clothes. Everyone there was attired at the business casual level. I found it lacking Dotty Dumpling's Dowry's gemütlichkeit, Brocach's craic, and the soigné of Barriques Wine Cave. But what it lacked in warmth, it more than made up for in class.
Behind the bar there are 12 quality beers on tap and over sixty bottles from which to choose. As I looked at the selection of beers on the wall, I was stunned by the bold variety. They had Chimay Rouge, Delerium Tremens, Anchor Porter, Sierra Nevada APA and stout, among other world-class beers. The beer with the last class there was PBR. If I had to criticize the variety at all, it's that they went for a "world's best" approach rather than drawing from the fine selection of local brews. They had Spotted Cow and Wisconsin Amber on the wall, but where was the Lake Louie Scotch Ale? Or the Central Waters Lac du Bay IPA? Or Lakefront Eastside Dark? Although I don't agree with the global focus, I respect Genna's for being bold enough to serve Chimay in 750 mL bottles. To my knowledge, there is no other bar in Madison with the variety that I found at Genna's.
The bar tender knew a bit about beer, which was a gentle surprise. Although Madison is a beer savvy city, a startling number are hooked on disappointing macros. The bar tender seemed to have a good familiarity with the world of beer. When I ordered a Anchor Porter, they were out. So he suggested a Sierra Nevada Stout instead, which he said is much like a porter. I was impressed by this suggestion because I agree that Sierra Nevada's Stout is sufficiently light that I could easily mistake it for a porter.
I drank two beers there. Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Stout and Anchor Steam. I believe they cost $4 and $3 respectively, which are very reasonable prices in my opinion. When the bar tender placed the bottle and glass on the counter, I was disappointed by three things. First, the stout was served ice cold. The temperature at which stouts ought to be served is often said to be 65° F. Second, the glass was unusual to say the least. A pint glass would have kept with the Irish-themed decor and have highlighted some of the qualities of the beer. Instead it was the dreaded American tumbler glass. Third, I was carded. Now, as you can tell from my profile, I'm still only 24. And I understand that bars suffer serious consequences when they serve people who aren't of age. But I feel that carding is somewhat declassé and it shows a lack of respect for the guest.
The Oatmeal Stout was almost certainly skunked, which is an unfortunate consequence of the fact that it's sold in clear glass bottles. I still have no idea why brewers sometimes insist on non-opaque bottles. In my mind, it shows a lack of respect for their product. Still, the rich oatmeal flavors danced on my tongue followed by waves of roasted malt flavor. A wonderful beer. The bar can't be blamed for the bad bottle. One problem that haunts beer bars is that they have sacrifice freshness in obtaining diversity. From what I've heard, Genna's has a good reputation for serving fresh brews.
I had my first brush with Anchor Steam as well. Unfortunately, I drank it after the stout so my pallate wasn't able to give it the attention it deserves. I'll review it under my standardized conditions at a later time, so stay tuned!
In the summer, Genna's has a balcony where you can sit and have a beautiful view of the Capitol. The mere thought of a beautiful summer evening with a pint of Hefeweizen sounded so appealing that I knew that I'd be back.
If you live in Madison, you've probably walked past Genna's and thought it was little more than a cocktail bar filled with the countless suits who work at the Capitol. You know what I mean. And yes, I'm told that they're known for making some fine cocktails but I went in undercover and wanted to see how they were doing with beer. After all, they do advertise for the Tyrenna Brewery (Milwaukee, WI) right in their window.
The building itself is situated on a triangular corner, thus resulting in an unusual right-triangle layout inside. You enter along one of the corners and face the bar. In front of you are a small number of clean tables surrounded by comfortable bar chairs. To your left is a selection of cheeses, crackers, and other food items. I didn't try any of it. The walls are adorned with classic Guiness posters, lending an Irish pub like theme to the place. But it wasn't as convincing as, say, Brocach. This is not the kind of bar you want to stroll into wearing bar clothes. Everyone there was attired at the business casual level. I found it lacking Dotty Dumpling's Dowry's gemütlichkeit, Brocach's craic, and the soigné of Barriques Wine Cave. But what it lacked in warmth, it more than made up for in class.
Behind the bar there are 12 quality beers on tap and over sixty bottles from which to choose. As I looked at the selection of beers on the wall, I was stunned by the bold variety. They had Chimay Rouge, Delerium Tremens, Anchor Porter, Sierra Nevada APA and stout, among other world-class beers. The beer with the last class there was PBR. If I had to criticize the variety at all, it's that they went for a "world's best" approach rather than drawing from the fine selection of local brews. They had Spotted Cow and Wisconsin Amber on the wall, but where was the Lake Louie Scotch Ale? Or the Central Waters Lac du Bay IPA? Or Lakefront Eastside Dark? Although I don't agree with the global focus, I respect Genna's for being bold enough to serve Chimay in 750 mL bottles. To my knowledge, there is no other bar in Madison with the variety that I found at Genna's.
The bar tender knew a bit about beer, which was a gentle surprise. Although Madison is a beer savvy city, a startling number are hooked on disappointing macros. The bar tender seemed to have a good familiarity with the world of beer. When I ordered a Anchor Porter, they were out. So he suggested a Sierra Nevada Stout instead, which he said is much like a porter. I was impressed by this suggestion because I agree that Sierra Nevada's Stout is sufficiently light that I could easily mistake it for a porter.
I drank two beers there. Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Stout and Anchor Steam. I believe they cost $4 and $3 respectively, which are very reasonable prices in my opinion. When the bar tender placed the bottle and glass on the counter, I was disappointed by three things. First, the stout was served ice cold. The temperature at which stouts ought to be served is often said to be 65° F. Second, the glass was unusual to say the least. A pint glass would have kept with the Irish-themed decor and have highlighted some of the qualities of the beer. Instead it was the dreaded American tumbler glass. Third, I was carded. Now, as you can tell from my profile, I'm still only 24. And I understand that bars suffer serious consequences when they serve people who aren't of age. But I feel that carding is somewhat declassé and it shows a lack of respect for the guest.
The Oatmeal Stout was almost certainly skunked, which is an unfortunate consequence of the fact that it's sold in clear glass bottles. I still have no idea why brewers sometimes insist on non-opaque bottles. In my mind, it shows a lack of respect for their product. Still, the rich oatmeal flavors danced on my tongue followed by waves of roasted malt flavor. A wonderful beer. The bar can't be blamed for the bad bottle. One problem that haunts beer bars is that they have sacrifice freshness in obtaining diversity. From what I've heard, Genna's has a good reputation for serving fresh brews.
I had my first brush with Anchor Steam as well. Unfortunately, I drank it after the stout so my pallate wasn't able to give it the attention it deserves. I'll review it under my standardized conditions at a later time, so stay tuned!
In the summer, Genna's has a balcony where you can sit and have a beautiful view of the Capitol. The mere thought of a beautiful summer evening with a pint of Hefeweizen sounded so appealing that I knew that I'd be back.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
WBW 19: When in Rhone...
Insert double-take.
You: I thought this was supposed to be a food and beer blog. What's with the wine?
Me: I could make something up. Like... No matter how much I prefer beer to wine, wine is an essential part of food experience and artisinal food culture. Or... I think you might be interested. But the bottom line is that I know very little about wine. If I'm serious about cooking, I need to change that. Perhaps Wine Blogging Wednesdays will help me develop as an oenophile. Consider it a sub-plot.
Jathan at Winexpression was looking for Rhone blends.
I picked up a bottle of 2002 Clos du Caillou Côtes du Rhône. I was interested in it because I heard that it was good. From reading things, such as the Wine Bible, I knew that the wine would be untamed with spicy, juicy qualities. What I didn't expect was how interesting the wine would be.
The nose was ostensibly disappointing. At first, it seemed to be of oak from top to bottom. As I put my nose further into the glass, however, I picked up raspberry, alcohol, and a rhubarb-like tartness. At 14% alcohol, I was actually surprised that ethanol wasn't more prominent in the aroma. The taste was both complex and delicious. The flavor leads in with a strong hand of oak that filled my mouth. After a few seconds, a burst of pleasant tannins took over and imparted a powerful leathery flavor. Finally, there was a rich bouquet of berries. Bits of raspberry, cranberry, and strawberry all lingered on my tongue for minutes. Echoes of oak and vanilla ended the taste experience. The wine left my mouth feeling slightly dry. True to form, it was just slightly velvety.
The estate was under the leadership of Jean-Denis Vacheron when this wine was produced, who holds an eight hectare estate just north of Avignon. He died an untimely death the year this wine was elaborated, and had his work continued by his wife Sylvie Pouizen and the talented Bruno Gaspard.
In Courthézon, the grapes grow in a squarely mediterranean climate. Despite 2002 being an off year for southern Rhone wines (think raining and flooding), I think it added a Jekyll-and-Hyde character to the wine that makes it more interesting. It's not sunny, but it certainly doesn't have the mulgrims either.
The two principle constituents of the wine seem to be grenache and syrah. I surmise that the fruitiness and warmth come from the grenache while syrah contributes hints of spice. I'm not familiar enough with Rhone varietals to further analyze the blending.
I imagine that this wine would be a good partner with many red meats. A steak cooked rare or medium rare with pepper on it, would be fantastic for example. I don't know how it would turn out, but I think it would be interesting to try this wine with tuna sushi.
Tagged with: WBW19 + WBW
You: I thought this was supposed to be a food and beer blog. What's with the wine?
Me: I could make something up. Like... No matter how much I prefer beer to wine, wine is an essential part of food experience and artisinal food culture. Or... I think you might be interested. But the bottom line is that I know very little about wine. If I'm serious about cooking, I need to change that. Perhaps Wine Blogging Wednesdays will help me develop as an oenophile. Consider it a sub-plot.
Jathan at Winexpression was looking for Rhone blends.
I picked up a bottle of 2002 Clos du Caillou Côtes du Rhône. I was interested in it because I heard that it was good. From reading things, such as the Wine Bible, I knew that the wine would be untamed with spicy, juicy qualities. What I didn't expect was how interesting the wine would be.
The nose was ostensibly disappointing. At first, it seemed to be of oak from top to bottom. As I put my nose further into the glass, however, I picked up raspberry, alcohol, and a rhubarb-like tartness. At 14% alcohol, I was actually surprised that ethanol wasn't more prominent in the aroma. The taste was both complex and delicious. The flavor leads in with a strong hand of oak that filled my mouth. After a few seconds, a burst of pleasant tannins took over and imparted a powerful leathery flavor. Finally, there was a rich bouquet of berries. Bits of raspberry, cranberry, and strawberry all lingered on my tongue for minutes. Echoes of oak and vanilla ended the taste experience. The wine left my mouth feeling slightly dry. True to form, it was just slightly velvety.
The estate was under the leadership of Jean-Denis Vacheron when this wine was produced, who holds an eight hectare estate just north of Avignon. He died an untimely death the year this wine was elaborated, and had his work continued by his wife Sylvie Pouizen and the talented Bruno Gaspard.
In Courthézon, the grapes grow in a squarely mediterranean climate. Despite 2002 being an off year for southern Rhone wines (think raining and flooding), I think it added a Jekyll-and-Hyde character to the wine that makes it more interesting. It's not sunny, but it certainly doesn't have the mulgrims either.
The two principle constituents of the wine seem to be grenache and syrah. I surmise that the fruitiness and warmth come from the grenache while syrah contributes hints of spice. I'm not familiar enough with Rhone varietals to further analyze the blending.
I imagine that this wine would be a good partner with many red meats. A steak cooked rare or medium rare with pepper on it, would be fantastic for example. I don't know how it would turn out, but I think it would be interesting to try this wine with tuna sushi.
Tagged with: WBW19 + WBW
Friday, March 03, 2006
Political commentary: why tagging isn't it
The Wisconsin State Journal printed an "our opinion" piece today entitled "Tag livestock to stop disease." The editors come out strongly in favor of proposals to require the tagging of livestock. Wisconsin has always been an exemplar of agriculture quality standards. It initiated the nation's first livestock identification system. Such systems require all farms that possess livestock (including hobby farms) to register with the Wisconsin Livestock Identification Consortium. This registry helps the government in the event of outbreaks of diseases. The program has been adopted by many other agriculturally-minded states.
The next step, they say, is to tag individual animals. Such a tagging system would take the identification system to a new level of detail, by tracking livestock from birth to slaughter. If it were then known that the Jones' have a problem with BSE, this would help farmers demonstrate that their animals never were on the Jones' farm.
Yet there are significant problems with these ideas. Namely, the proponants of these measures are trying to cover a deep wound with band-aids. Neither program does anything to solve the fundamental causes of BSE, which is fundamentally linked to the practice of feeding animals the by-products of meat production. A cow infected with BSE will have all of its nerve tissue contaminated. So no part of the animal can be safely used. It cannot be destroyed with heat, radiation, or extended freezing. Yet animal parts are simply recycled back into the system of feeding more animals, thus spreading the disease.
Shutting down this grotesque industry of making low-cost feed from animal "left-overs" would be a good first step.
People who are nervous about the potential of consuming BSE-infected meat are turning to small-scale farms. Such farms are an essential alternative to mass-market meat suppliers in that they raise their animals in a responsible manner, without the use of hormones, antibiotics, and vegetarian feed. The animals are often slaughtered on site by highly skilled personnel, a far cry from the de-skilled meat packers that butcher the meat for supermarkets. The meat is sold at a price that allows the farmers to make a living, invest in their land, and pay their hands fair wages.
Yet the very proposal that the Wisconsin State Journal is touting could very well put at end to such farms. Yes, the initial participation would be voluntary. But the decision to register with the Wisconsin Livestock Identification Registry was once voluntary, too. And now it's become mandatory. Large scale farms can afford to "chip" their animals. Small scale farms, the ones who are standing up to all of this insanity, are inherently ill-equipped to bring their operations into compliance. The practical result is that many, many organic livestock operations would be forced to shut down.
And for what?
So a meat industry can continue selling us meat from carnivorous cows, pumped up with growth hormones and antibiotics, and kept indoors for their entire four year life? Meat that needs to be irradiated because slaughter house conditions are so unsanitary? And is virtually untraceable once it leaves the plant? And even if it is found to be contaminated with anything, be it E. coli H157:O7 or BSE, the government still has no legal ability to monitor the quality control testing or to issue a recall.
The State Journal tried to cast the debate in terms of the civil rights of the farmer versus the government. Whether such concerns are valid is up to lawyers to decide. However, it characteristically misses the point of the entire issue.
Tackle the real issues. Then let's talk.
The next step, they say, is to tag individual animals. Such a tagging system would take the identification system to a new level of detail, by tracking livestock from birth to slaughter. If it were then known that the Jones' have a problem with BSE, this would help farmers demonstrate that their animals never were on the Jones' farm.
Yet there are significant problems with these ideas. Namely, the proponants of these measures are trying to cover a deep wound with band-aids. Neither program does anything to solve the fundamental causes of BSE, which is fundamentally linked to the practice of feeding animals the by-products of meat production. A cow infected with BSE will have all of its nerve tissue contaminated. So no part of the animal can be safely used. It cannot be destroyed with heat, radiation, or extended freezing. Yet animal parts are simply recycled back into the system of feeding more animals, thus spreading the disease.
Shutting down this grotesque industry of making low-cost feed from animal "left-overs" would be a good first step.
People who are nervous about the potential of consuming BSE-infected meat are turning to small-scale farms. Such farms are an essential alternative to mass-market meat suppliers in that they raise their animals in a responsible manner, without the use of hormones, antibiotics, and vegetarian feed. The animals are often slaughtered on site by highly skilled personnel, a far cry from the de-skilled meat packers that butcher the meat for supermarkets. The meat is sold at a price that allows the farmers to make a living, invest in their land, and pay their hands fair wages.
Yet the very proposal that the Wisconsin State Journal is touting could very well put at end to such farms. Yes, the initial participation would be voluntary. But the decision to register with the Wisconsin Livestock Identification Registry was once voluntary, too. And now it's become mandatory. Large scale farms can afford to "chip" their animals. Small scale farms, the ones who are standing up to all of this insanity, are inherently ill-equipped to bring their operations into compliance. The practical result is that many, many organic livestock operations would be forced to shut down.
And for what?
So a meat industry can continue selling us meat from carnivorous cows, pumped up with growth hormones and antibiotics, and kept indoors for their entire four year life? Meat that needs to be irradiated because slaughter house conditions are so unsanitary? And is virtually untraceable once it leaves the plant? And even if it is found to be contaminated with anything, be it E. coli H157:O7 or BSE, the government still has no legal ability to monitor the quality control testing or to issue a recall.
The State Journal tried to cast the debate in terms of the civil rights of the farmer versus the government. Whether such concerns are valid is up to lawyers to decide. However, it characteristically misses the point of the entire issue.
Tackle the real issues. Then let's talk.
Tasting Notes: New Glarus Sour Brown Ale
Beer: Unplugged Sour Brown Ale
Brewery: New Glarus Brewing Company (New Glarus, WI)
Style: sour brown ale
How could I pass up the opportunity to review one of the rarer styles out there? Sour brown ales are a strictly Belgian affair, although several American craft breweries have tried their hand at it as well. Traditionally, the beer is brewed in and around Flanders. The most notable producer of it might be the New Belgium Brewing Company with La Folie.
The beer poured a hazy brown color and raised very little head. What head did develop dissipated quickly. There was no carbonation to speak of, as is appropriate for this style of beer.
The nose is pleasantly complex. A bold sourness hits first, followed by apple and orange peel notes. As I drank the beer, I found it to be only ostensibly sour. Yes, it is sour. It evoked the word "bizarre" in one of my friends. But it's a gentle sourness that may require some acclimation. The sourness quickly gives way to a sweet flavor that lingers on the tongue. It carries with it a convincing apple taste, with undertones of a fruit basket. I picked up hints of grapefruit, strawberry, and pineapple.
I'd really like to try this beer with sweet and sour chicken, Chinese restaurant style. The sour-sweet contrast in the beer would mirror the sweet-sour contrast in the dish. And it would do so without the flavors cancelling each other out. Many chicken and pork dishes would also go great with it, especially ones with sauce bontemps. I also think it would be a refreshing partner to apple pie, where the apples in the dessert would really bring up the apples in the beer.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
IMBB 23: Vive la France
I was on break the other day and one of my coworkers asked what I liked to do for fun. I told her that I enjoy cooking. When prompted what I cook, I told her that I have a real affinity for French food. She responded by saying that she enjoys "cooking gourmet" every once in a while.
Historically "cooking gourmet" meant cooking French. Yet the refined cuisine we imagine when we think of French food and indeed the food we cook in our restaurants isn't a good representation of French fare. Yes, the French are known for being of the world's preeminant cooks. But there's another side to what the French eat that we don't often talk about in the food world, and that's the rustic every day kind of food.
As I sat and tried to figure out dish best epitomizes the opposite of the kind of French food we find in our restaurants, a traditional Alsatian dish came to mind. Baeckoffe is a simple stew of meat and onions in white wine.
In the Lutèce Cookbook, Soltner gives a charming account of the dish's history. Apparently, women traditionally did the laundry on Mondays. Since they were so busy, they threw some meat, potato, and white wine in a pot on Sunday evening and let it marinate overnight. As their children went to school on Monday, they dropped off the pots at the village bakery. By that hour, the day's baking would be finished but the ovens would still be quite hot. The children would then pick up the pots on their way home at lunchtime, and the family would sit down and eat together.
It seems that a parallel story has emerged on the history of the dish. Several websites claim that the dish originated as a Sunday after church lunch. This (probably Americanized) version is almost undoubtedly false. The name of the dish means "baker's oven" via the German "Bäckhof." This fact signifies that the baker's oven must have played some role in the tradition of the dish. However, French bakeries are closed on Sunday.
Regardless of the dish's origins, I made baeckoffe.
On the first day of making it, I put half a pound of beef, lamb, and pork into a pot. Then I minced an onion and sliced some garlic, which found it's way into the pot as well. I then prepared a bouquet garni with two stands of thyme, parsley, and a bay leaf. I immersed the contents of the pot with a dry Alsatian white wine. In the interest of economy, and to stick with a rustic preparation, I chose a wine that was made to be quaffed. That is, I chose an Edelzwicker. This kind of wine is made out of whatever grapes the vintner has at hand, and isn't crafted into any particular "style." Ironically, though, the name means "noble blend." Specifically, I used a 2002 vintage Domaine Bott-Geyl. It was about $10 at my local wine store.
On its own, the wine is actually relatively tasty. In the interests of integrity, I need to fess up and admit that I'm more of a beer drinker than a wine drinker. The nose is full of muted fruit notes. I can almost smell grapefruit in the glass. The taste is slightly dry, with biting acidity and a pleasant but astringent oak aftertaste. The flavors aren't necessarily well balanced and seem vaguely "square" but I kind of appreciate a bit of edginess to the taste. At 12% abv, it seems fairly graceful.
After 36 hours of refrigeration, I sliced some russet potatoes and laid them into the bottom of a dish. The meat, onions, garlic, and marinade all got poured into the dish. I then cut up a half an onion and added it. Slices of potato topped the stew, after seasoning of course. The stew was baked at 300°F for 2.5 hours. I tried to seal the dish with some dough, but the lid seats from the side rather than from the top.
The result?
Delicious.
This is a no-nonsense dish in which any imperfection wouldn't hesitate to announce itself. The meat was not as tender as I would have liked, owing to the tough cuts of meat that were used (again, sticking with the spirit of the dish). When I make this dish again, I'll let the stew go for my "tried and true" four hours instead. From my experience, that produces wonderfuly tender meat.
As a wine, I wanted to set up a contrast. I was worried that the flavors of a dry white wine would cancel out the wine flavors of the stew. As a result, I deliberately picked something that might seem zany to some of you. I chose a pinot gris. As in that which was once called tokay. Tokay, which usually refers to the Hungarian variety, is dessert wine par excellence. My goal was to play off a sweet-savory contrast in picking the wine. Specifically, I chose a 1998 Domaine du Clos St. Landelin Grand Cru Pinot Gris.
By itself, the wine is exceptional. It's breathtakingly sweet, but in a good way. The nose is full of peach and apricot flavor, with strong wood notes. I think I can smell traces of green apple. The alcohol smell of the wine is very subdued, and lets the other scents really come through in a pleasant way. The flavor has none of the astringent or alcohol flavors that I expect in wine. Instead, it has a peach flavor that lingers on the tongue for tens of seconds. Over time, it fades to a wooden taste that isn't entirely rounded. But again, the wood taste is extremely pleasant and sets up a contrast with the rounded sweetness of the earlier fruit flavors. I'm not so sure that I'd drink this wine with dessert, unless said dessert were gelato or sorbet. However, this wine is so fantastically complex that I learned something new about wine with every sip. To drink it with anything would almost undoubtedly sacrifice that very quality of the wine.
Maybe it's because I'm not a sworn oenophile, but I thought the combination was pretty good. The sweetness did contrast with the dryness of the wine in the dish. The flavors were like a couple on a first date. Not completely going together, but clearly sharing some common interests. I was just happy that they didn't fight like a married couple.
In some ways, water seemed to be a better choice than the wine though. Despite the fact that the two wines have different flavor profiles, there was some cancellation of flavors. Water cleansed the pallate and let me taste the dish for the first time many times.
Since this is a food and beer blog, I think that any beer you think would go well with stew would be a good choice here. Any kind of Belgian dubbel or trippel would be nice provided the flavor wasn't tipped too heavily toward banana. A traditional English porter would make an ok partner, but only if the flavors weren't too roasty.
Tagged with: IMBB23 + French
Historically "cooking gourmet" meant cooking French. Yet the refined cuisine we imagine when we think of French food and indeed the food we cook in our restaurants isn't a good representation of French fare. Yes, the French are known for being of the world's preeminant cooks. But there's another side to what the French eat that we don't often talk about in the food world, and that's the rustic every day kind of food.
As I sat and tried to figure out dish best epitomizes the opposite of the kind of French food we find in our restaurants, a traditional Alsatian dish came to mind. Baeckoffe is a simple stew of meat and onions in white wine.
In the Lutèce Cookbook, Soltner gives a charming account of the dish's history. Apparently, women traditionally did the laundry on Mondays. Since they were so busy, they threw some meat, potato, and white wine in a pot on Sunday evening and let it marinate overnight. As their children went to school on Monday, they dropped off the pots at the village bakery. By that hour, the day's baking would be finished but the ovens would still be quite hot. The children would then pick up the pots on their way home at lunchtime, and the family would sit down and eat together.
It seems that a parallel story has emerged on the history of the dish. Several websites claim that the dish originated as a Sunday after church lunch. This (probably Americanized) version is almost undoubtedly false. The name of the dish means "baker's oven" via the German "Bäckhof." This fact signifies that the baker's oven must have played some role in the tradition of the dish. However, French bakeries are closed on Sunday.
Regardless of the dish's origins, I made baeckoffe.
On the first day of making it, I put half a pound of beef, lamb, and pork into a pot. Then I minced an onion and sliced some garlic, which found it's way into the pot as well. I then prepared a bouquet garni with two stands of thyme, parsley, and a bay leaf. I immersed the contents of the pot with a dry Alsatian white wine. In the interest of economy, and to stick with a rustic preparation, I chose a wine that was made to be quaffed. That is, I chose an Edelzwicker. This kind of wine is made out of whatever grapes the vintner has at hand, and isn't crafted into any particular "style." Ironically, though, the name means "noble blend." Specifically, I used a 2002 vintage Domaine Bott-Geyl. It was about $10 at my local wine store.
On its own, the wine is actually relatively tasty. In the interests of integrity, I need to fess up and admit that I'm more of a beer drinker than a wine drinker. The nose is full of muted fruit notes. I can almost smell grapefruit in the glass. The taste is slightly dry, with biting acidity and a pleasant but astringent oak aftertaste. The flavors aren't necessarily well balanced and seem vaguely "square" but I kind of appreciate a bit of edginess to the taste. At 12% abv, it seems fairly graceful.
After 36 hours of refrigeration, I sliced some russet potatoes and laid them into the bottom of a dish. The meat, onions, garlic, and marinade all got poured into the dish. I then cut up a half an onion and added it. Slices of potato topped the stew, after seasoning of course. The stew was baked at 300°F for 2.5 hours. I tried to seal the dish with some dough, but the lid seats from the side rather than from the top.
The result?
Delicious.
This is a no-nonsense dish in which any imperfection wouldn't hesitate to announce itself. The meat was not as tender as I would have liked, owing to the tough cuts of meat that were used (again, sticking with the spirit of the dish). When I make this dish again, I'll let the stew go for my "tried and true" four hours instead. From my experience, that produces wonderfuly tender meat.
As a wine, I wanted to set up a contrast. I was worried that the flavors of a dry white wine would cancel out the wine flavors of the stew. As a result, I deliberately picked something that might seem zany to some of you. I chose a pinot gris. As in that which was once called tokay. Tokay, which usually refers to the Hungarian variety, is dessert wine par excellence. My goal was to play off a sweet-savory contrast in picking the wine. Specifically, I chose a 1998 Domaine du Clos St. Landelin Grand Cru Pinot Gris.
By itself, the wine is exceptional. It's breathtakingly sweet, but in a good way. The nose is full of peach and apricot flavor, with strong wood notes. I think I can smell traces of green apple. The alcohol smell of the wine is very subdued, and lets the other scents really come through in a pleasant way. The flavor has none of the astringent or alcohol flavors that I expect in wine. Instead, it has a peach flavor that lingers on the tongue for tens of seconds. Over time, it fades to a wooden taste that isn't entirely rounded. But again, the wood taste is extremely pleasant and sets up a contrast with the rounded sweetness of the earlier fruit flavors. I'm not so sure that I'd drink this wine with dessert, unless said dessert were gelato or sorbet. However, this wine is so fantastically complex that I learned something new about wine with every sip. To drink it with anything would almost undoubtedly sacrifice that very quality of the wine.
Maybe it's because I'm not a sworn oenophile, but I thought the combination was pretty good. The sweetness did contrast with the dryness of the wine in the dish. The flavors were like a couple on a first date. Not completely going together, but clearly sharing some common interests. I was just happy that they didn't fight like a married couple.
In some ways, water seemed to be a better choice than the wine though. Despite the fact that the two wines have different flavor profiles, there was some cancellation of flavors. Water cleansed the pallate and let me taste the dish for the first time many times.
Since this is a food and beer blog, I think that any beer you think would go well with stew would be a good choice here. Any kind of Belgian dubbel or trippel would be nice provided the flavor wasn't tipped too heavily toward banana. A traditional English porter would make an ok partner, but only if the flavors weren't too roasty.
Tagged with: IMBB23 + French
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Political Commentary: junk food in school
A recent spate of news articles have brought attention to the growing scandal (so-called) of schools selling junk food. It's even brought the attention (and sometimes ire) of bloggers. Many say that it's unacceptable for schools to promote and even profit from childhood obesity.
Many of the responses to one of these articles, however, were misguided. The gist of the article is this: Even though schools in Boston have forbidden the sale of unhealthy snacks, students still indulge in junk food because they just bring it from home. The response goes something like this: This shows that the ban on junk food doesn't go far enough; junk food should be forbidden in school no matter where it's purchased.
Not so fast I say.
Now, I'm sensitive to the fact that experts say that today's youth are unhealthy and that there's a growing obesity problem in youth. But this solution isn't the right way to go.
For one thing, I wonder what the people who oppose junk food being sold in schools think of contraception-first or abstinence-first sex education. America's progressives claim that not providing contraception encourages unsafe sex (because students will have sex with or without protection). Which is true. But then they turn around and say that not making junk food available will stop the consumption of junk food among students. Talk about hypocrisy. Students will indulge in junk food whether or not it's available or allowed in schools.
And let's not forget that children are getting, on average, more heavy is a comprehesive problem. It's not just about eating junk food in schools, the caloric intake in itself probably contributes little to childhood obesity. Eating less overall, eating a greater balance of food, and regular exercise need to be prioritized together. This policy fails beause it only tries to tackle only one of these goals.
A better solution might be to teach students how to make their own decisions, so they themselves decide not to over-indulge in junk food. Simply cutting it out of schools like this simply makes a forbidden apple. Schools should work harder to work with parents, who -- I would argue -- have the exclusive right to decide what kinds of foods their children should eat. That right does not lie with schools. To say otherwise is to take a dangerous step backwards toward the mistaken policy of in loco parentis.
This entire issue is yet another example of cultural nannyism where one group of people thinks they know what's best for another group of people. The school nurse at Mildred Avenue School, Sue Burchill, sums it up when she's quoted as saying ''They are not capable of making good choices at this age, so you have to do it for them."
I don't know about you, but I knew that Three Musketeers and Munchos were unhealthy when I was that age. I knew that I shouldn't be guzzling Jolt. What the school nurse is saying is that even though 12 year olds can and have been tried as adults, that they have the cognitive ability to fully consider the ethics of murder, they don't have the cognitive ability to decide what to eat. What policies like this do is quite simple: it prevents children from making mistakes. And I think we learn the more from our mistakes than from our laws.
Many of the responses to one of these articles, however, were misguided. The gist of the article is this: Even though schools in Boston have forbidden the sale of unhealthy snacks, students still indulge in junk food because they just bring it from home. The response goes something like this: This shows that the ban on junk food doesn't go far enough; junk food should be forbidden in school no matter where it's purchased.
Not so fast I say.
Now, I'm sensitive to the fact that experts say that today's youth are unhealthy and that there's a growing obesity problem in youth. But this solution isn't the right way to go.
For one thing, I wonder what the people who oppose junk food being sold in schools think of contraception-first or abstinence-first sex education. America's progressives claim that not providing contraception encourages unsafe sex (because students will have sex with or without protection). Which is true. But then they turn around and say that not making junk food available will stop the consumption of junk food among students. Talk about hypocrisy. Students will indulge in junk food whether or not it's available or allowed in schools.
And let's not forget that children are getting, on average, more heavy is a comprehesive problem. It's not just about eating junk food in schools, the caloric intake in itself probably contributes little to childhood obesity. Eating less overall, eating a greater balance of food, and regular exercise need to be prioritized together. This policy fails beause it only tries to tackle only one of these goals.
A better solution might be to teach students how to make their own decisions, so they themselves decide not to over-indulge in junk food. Simply cutting it out of schools like this simply makes a forbidden apple. Schools should work harder to work with parents, who -- I would argue -- have the exclusive right to decide what kinds of foods their children should eat. That right does not lie with schools. To say otherwise is to take a dangerous step backwards toward the mistaken policy of in loco parentis.
This entire issue is yet another example of cultural nannyism where one group of people thinks they know what's best for another group of people. The school nurse at Mildred Avenue School, Sue Burchill, sums it up when she's quoted as saying ''They are not capable of making good choices at this age, so you have to do it for them."
I don't know about you, but I knew that Three Musketeers and Munchos were unhealthy when I was that age. I knew that I shouldn't be guzzling Jolt. What the school nurse is saying is that even though 12 year olds can and have been tried as adults, that they have the cognitive ability to fully consider the ethics of murder, they don't have the cognitive ability to decide what to eat. What policies like this do is quite simple: it prevents children from making mistakes. And I think we learn the more from our mistakes than from our laws.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Restaurant Review: Rock Bottom Brewery
I made a visit to the Rock Bottom Brewery in Milwaukee last weekend. Yes, I know, it's corporate. But I figured that I'd give it a try.
The building is very stately, being directly next to the river. And the neighborhood seems nice with a boardwalk district. The large neon "Rock Bottom" lights would look great on a gentle summer evening, but the forbidding winter temperatures didn't allow me to fully appreciate the atmosphere.
Inside the heavy wooden doors, we were greeted by a clean interior that was made to look like an old neighborhood brewpub. As our host walked us to our table as if he were crawling, the atmosphere took on a more sports bar theme. Flat screen televisions were strategically hung from the ceiling showing ESPN2. At the time that was a track meet and then golf.
The booths are very long and comfortable. They're raised above the floor level slightly, which adds a nice touch. Unfortunately, it was also very cold in the restaurant and all three of us wore our winter coats for much of the meal.
It took so long for the waitress to show up at our table that we were beginning to wonder if she was on break. When she arrived, she clearly had the "let's be friends" style of serving that I find annoying and inappropriate. The menu is too long and doesn't stick to any sort of theme. I ordered a pint of their Stillwater Stout ($4).
The beer was good, although I could swear that it's a clone brew of Guinness. In other words, it has virtually no roasted flavor and plays a strong hand of malts. There's little to no bittering hops either. The beer only carried a modest head. This beer was fine, but I prefer my stouts flintily dry and crammed full of roasted flavors. On the other hand, this beer has a good sessionability to it.
We had an appetizer of nachos. It came out on a huge oval plate piled at least six inches high with greasy tortillas held together by cheese. The chips themselves were very greasy, and indeed we found a lake of fat on the bottom of the plate. The salsa was timid, as if it didn't want to offend anyone. It didn't have a good balance of flavor, and wasn't even slightly spicy.
I ordered the "meatloaf and mashers." It comes with a nice helping of two slices of meatloaf, a pile of mashed potatoes, and buttery green beans. The meatloaf can be sauced with either stout tomato sauce or brown ale mushroom sauce, and I picked the former because the ketchup-meatloaf combination is traditional. The meatloaf is juicy (they let it rest) and filled with pieces of sautéd mushrooms, which imparted a nice flavor to an otherwise bland dish. The sauce, however, was truly one of the worst sauces I've ever tasted. And believe me, I have an open mind when it comes to experiencing new things. It just tasted bad. The flavor consists of a full-scale battle between the stout reduction component and the tomato component. The stout reduction tasted stale, as if a pan had been sitting on the stove for the last three days. And the tomatoes tasted like they were rotting in the back of their fridge. As I said, the flavors didn't parter either by similarity or contrast in the slightest. To make things worse, the menu boasted that the meatloaf is "made from scratch." If a restaurant has toclaim that they make their own food, you know there are serious problems.
The mash was good, although bland. The menu boasted that the potatoes had white cheddar in them, but I assume they meant the processed cheese variety.
The menu also said the dish would be served with "seasonal vegetables." Since it's January, I was expecting celeriac, squash, or maybe sweet potato. What vegetable did they consider seasonal? Green beans. At least they were well prepared. The vegetables felt firm and were crisp, unlike most green beans that are available at this time of year. Moreover, they had been blanched and shocked in the French manner. Unfortunately, unlike the French they didn't reheat their green beans after shocking them and instead served them cold. Serving them this way should be reserved for hot and humid summer days when you want something light and cool, not in the middle of the winter where it's even cold inside. The green beans were sauced with melted butter. I would have prefered sauce beurre blanc myself. Still, the green beans were the best part of the meal.
I should note that the plating was done in a very uncreative way. I would have placed the meatloaf on top of the mash, and then arranged the green beans around it in a decorative manner. Instead they do a basic 12, 3, and 7 o'clock plating scheme.
With my dinner, I ordered my first tripel. The nose was full of banana and bubble gum. The flavor had a nice balance of banana, bubble gum, and malts. It had a pleasant bitterness to it that I appreciated. Even better, they served it in an appropriate glass. It raised a nice white head that just wouldn't quit. It went great with the green beans. But at over 9% (typical for the style), it was a gracefully big beer.
I'd go there again for beer, but I'm not sure if I'd go there again for food.
The building is very stately, being directly next to the river. And the neighborhood seems nice with a boardwalk district. The large neon "Rock Bottom" lights would look great on a gentle summer evening, but the forbidding winter temperatures didn't allow me to fully appreciate the atmosphere.
Inside the heavy wooden doors, we were greeted by a clean interior that was made to look like an old neighborhood brewpub. As our host walked us to our table as if he were crawling, the atmosphere took on a more sports bar theme. Flat screen televisions were strategically hung from the ceiling showing ESPN2. At the time that was a track meet and then golf.
The booths are very long and comfortable. They're raised above the floor level slightly, which adds a nice touch. Unfortunately, it was also very cold in the restaurant and all three of us wore our winter coats for much of the meal.
It took so long for the waitress to show up at our table that we were beginning to wonder if she was on break. When she arrived, she clearly had the "let's be friends" style of serving that I find annoying and inappropriate. The menu is too long and doesn't stick to any sort of theme. I ordered a pint of their Stillwater Stout ($4).
The beer was good, although I could swear that it's a clone brew of Guinness. In other words, it has virtually no roasted flavor and plays a strong hand of malts. There's little to no bittering hops either. The beer only carried a modest head. This beer was fine, but I prefer my stouts flintily dry and crammed full of roasted flavors. On the other hand, this beer has a good sessionability to it.
We had an appetizer of nachos. It came out on a huge oval plate piled at least six inches high with greasy tortillas held together by cheese. The chips themselves were very greasy, and indeed we found a lake of fat on the bottom of the plate. The salsa was timid, as if it didn't want to offend anyone. It didn't have a good balance of flavor, and wasn't even slightly spicy.
I ordered the "meatloaf and mashers." It comes with a nice helping of two slices of meatloaf, a pile of mashed potatoes, and buttery green beans. The meatloaf can be sauced with either stout tomato sauce or brown ale mushroom sauce, and I picked the former because the ketchup-meatloaf combination is traditional. The meatloaf is juicy (they let it rest) and filled with pieces of sautéd mushrooms, which imparted a nice flavor to an otherwise bland dish. The sauce, however, was truly one of the worst sauces I've ever tasted. And believe me, I have an open mind when it comes to experiencing new things. It just tasted bad. The flavor consists of a full-scale battle between the stout reduction component and the tomato component. The stout reduction tasted stale, as if a pan had been sitting on the stove for the last three days. And the tomatoes tasted like they were rotting in the back of their fridge. As I said, the flavors didn't parter either by similarity or contrast in the slightest. To make things worse, the menu boasted that the meatloaf is "made from scratch." If a restaurant has toclaim that they make their own food, you know there are serious problems.
The mash was good, although bland. The menu boasted that the potatoes had white cheddar in them, but I assume they meant the processed cheese variety.
The menu also said the dish would be served with "seasonal vegetables." Since it's January, I was expecting celeriac, squash, or maybe sweet potato. What vegetable did they consider seasonal? Green beans. At least they were well prepared. The vegetables felt firm and were crisp, unlike most green beans that are available at this time of year. Moreover, they had been blanched and shocked in the French manner. Unfortunately, unlike the French they didn't reheat their green beans after shocking them and instead served them cold. Serving them this way should be reserved for hot and humid summer days when you want something light and cool, not in the middle of the winter where it's even cold inside. The green beans were sauced with melted butter. I would have prefered sauce beurre blanc myself. Still, the green beans were the best part of the meal.
I should note that the plating was done in a very uncreative way. I would have placed the meatloaf on top of the mash, and then arranged the green beans around it in a decorative manner. Instead they do a basic 12, 3, and 7 o'clock plating scheme.
With my dinner, I ordered my first tripel. The nose was full of banana and bubble gum. The flavor had a nice balance of banana, bubble gum, and malts. It had a pleasant bitterness to it that I appreciated. Even better, they served it in an appropriate glass. It raised a nice white head that just wouldn't quit. It went great with the green beans. But at over 9% (typical for the style), it was a gracefully big beer.
I'd go there again for beer, but I'm not sure if I'd go there again for food.
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