AFTER THE FIRE: This week in solipsistic beer narcissism (2014).

AFTER THE FIRE: This week in solipsistic beer narcissism (2014).

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor.

Originally published in 2014, and with a strange sort of resonance as the most insufferable political campaign in American history limps to the finish line.

---

Are you fed up with words you don’t understand?

Tired of scrolling down to your favorite contrarian beer columnist, then coming to a screeching halt when he uses words like “local multiplier effect” and “egalitarianism” in the very same sentence?

Hi, Roger A. Baylor here with an amazing new product – you’ve got to see it to believe it – called the Dictionary, and it’s a do-it-yourself confusion remover with professional results … guaranteed!

Just pick the word you want to define, match it to the alphabetical listing in the Dictionary, and read the answer.

It’s that easy.

And, because it’s wireless, there are no plugs, cords, batteries, tools or wiring to worry about.

With the amazing Dictionary, you can even learn how to pronounce the word!

The Dictionary contains all the words that you’ll ever encounter in this or any other column, and yet it’s small enough to put one in every room where you might find yourself reading the newspaper. Place one next to the toilet so you don’t have to go back downstairs to the den. Keep another on the porch for smoke breaks. The amazing dictionary fits in the glove box, in your purse or on top of the coffee table.

The Dictionary’s powerful information technology lets you define old words and learn new ones. It cuts through those multi-syllable, compound nightmares with ease, and talk about shock-absorbency … Watch while I shield my head with the Dictionary as my assistant attempts to beat my brain senseless with a RateAdvocate beer review.

See? Even after continuous pounding, my synapses are still transmitting neuron signals … and my session ale remains delicious.

That’s the power and protection of the Dictionary, folks.

Call now and you’ll get the Dictionary for only $19.99. You’ll also receive my handy Sticky Notepad and Self-Sharpening Pencil, absolutely free. Just copy the problem word from my column and stick it to the Dictionary until you feel like looking it up.

Yes, you’ll get the Dictionary, the Sticky Notepad and the Self-Sharpening Pencil, all for only $19.99. But if you call right now, I’ll double this entire offer. Just pay shipping, and you’ll get two Dictionaries, two Sticky Notepads and two Self-Sharpening Pencils. But you can only get this special two-for-one offer by calling now …

---

Way back in 2010, when 10 Barrel Brewing was but a gleam in Carlos Brito’s numbers-crunching testes, President Barack Obama returned to a theme often broached during his historic campaign for the White House. It happened during the 2010 State of the Union address.

“The best anti-poverty program around is a world class education.”

No, not the Indiana wholesaler.

Naturally, the precise components of a “world class education” are open to interpretation, discussion and debate between open-minded citizens, assuming you can find any of them in these idiotically polarized times, but the overall sentiment that education is a corrective to impoverishment has been proven to be truthful again and again.

I submit that the word “impoverishment” has more than one meaning as used in this context. We’d be correct in the assumption that there are clear and compelling correlations between education and the eradication of material impoverishment.

However, we might also consider impoverishment in creative, artistic and cultural contexts, and how one’s attitude toward the general topic of knowledge, pertaining to its veracity as an end onto itself as well as the tangible benefits gained from expansive education as opposed to a confining illiteracy, shapes what we know and the uses to which we put our knowledge.

According to the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle, who drank wine: “With regard to excellence, it is not enough to know, but we must try to have and use it."

What I think he meant is that possessing something of supposed value for the sole purpose of the object’s ability to reflect its “value” back on the holder somewhat misses the point. The true value is derived from the object being used wisely, and a well-rounded education supplies the means to make this determination.

Given the perpetual linkages between education and personal advancement, why is it that people choose to devalue the notion of education, eschewing the why, how and wherefore, and substituting in their place a solipsistic, narcissism-driven, knee-jerk, me-first hedonism?

Perhaps it’s the logical outcome of our American strains of materialism and consumerism. When it comes to pulse-quickening snobbery, exclusionary avarice and frenzied hoarding, the very last thought surfacing in one’s fevered, acquisitive brain is the possibility that all is not what it seems.

Do you still desire the object once it is revealed that the profit chain leads straight into the Texas-sized mass of plastic in the Pacific Ocean, or to the owners of factory-farmed chickens wallowing in their own feces, or to that bastard Obama’s pocket … or, into the very coffers of ISIS (read: AB-InBev).

Except you really want it, don’t you? You want it right now – and by “it” I refer not to a mass-produced Trojan Goose barrel-aged ale, but to a blissfully unexamined version of capitalist doltishness, wherein there are no reasons whatever for diagnosing the nature of the itch, only interminable scratching.

The writer Aldous Huxley called this phenomenon soma. If you don’t know the source of this reference, perhaps it’s time to read a book.

But I’m nothing if not stubborn. Ideas matter, and yet at present, both the country at large and my own beer and brewing milieu are dismally stupid and mercilessly tacky places. These daily tsunamis of crass materialism and consumerist greed have come to define the American experience, and even when the topic is “craft” beer – perhaps modern America’s signature accomplishment – we have digressed just as quickly into 24-7, must-have shopping zombies, pausing occasionally to thank Jesus for the blessed privilege of possessing our baubles, and ignoring what’s happening in our own back yards because there’s not enough status in mere localism.

It’s the old Chinese proverb – yes, you guessed it, the one printed on plasticized card stock suitable for framing, and available not from the heirs to Billy Mays, but from Wal-Mart via Guangdong Province:

"It’s all about me."

Yes, it is.

And that’s also why YOU don’t interest ME any longer.

---

What would happen if you combined classic sacred choral music with a thesaurus? You’d have a synonym for a seminal hymnal!

Hi, Roger Baylor here for the Sing ‘o’ Saurus. It’s no ordinary reference book.

Watch this!

---

September 12: AFTER THE FIRE: England, or one man's heightened cholesterol panic is another man's nostalgic repast (2013).

September 5: AFTER THE FIRE: Beer stories and bedtime for gonzo (2013).

August 29: AFTER THE FIRE: In the Red Room, we’re all left – right?

August 22: AFTER THE FIRE: Drink, smoke and enjoy.

__

AFTER THE FIRE: Before the deluge, or knowing how this whole beer business started.

AFTER THE FIRE: Before the deluge, or knowing how this whole beer business started.

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor.


I always tell young film-makers, ‘find the song that only you can sing.’ It doesn’t just come to you. It’s trial and error and disappointment before you find, slowly but surely, the confidence to express your film-making identity.”
-- Paul “Bourne” Greengrass

Seeing as I have too much time on my hands, odd thoughts of late have turned to those early years at the Public House formerly known as Rich O’s.

Is it creeping nostalgia?

No, not really. I've no great desire to risk my own eternal Groundhog Day of A Cosmic Runaround by reverting to a place and time that’s better left alone. What’s done is done. Oasis and Goose Island were then, not now. I’m serene, and my legacy is secure.

Rather, these recent thoughts have to do with simple curiosity, and given my inclinations, they’ll probably lead to worrisome complexity.

In the 1990s, I took for granted (naively, perhaps) that it was possible to run a small business, to stay alive while doing so, and to be able to grow the business slowly, all the while devoting special attention to teaching about the business’s chosen core specialty – in my own instance, better beer.

It somehow worked. Is this cadence even possible now?

Expenses are high, attention spans are short, and any establishment with a few beer lines and a stand-up cooler packed with nicely decorated bottles can become the hottest destination of the millisecond, as acclaimed by the viral illuminators of social media just prior to their abandonment of “craft” beer for infused kombucha.

The basic founding ideal at the Public House was better beer, which at the time posed a task easier spoken than implemented, and yet better beer options existed back then, too, even if few on-premise locations chose to exercise them.

At the time, crusty old school operators tended to be openly contemptuous of beer diversity: “I don’t drink that shit, so why would I sell it?” gruffly intoned amid an Old Swillwaukee.

A newer generation of more enlightened owners and managers was only just emerging. This more open-minded cohort grew their beer businesses in step with expanded "craft" availability, which eventually merged with the hyper-connectivity of a wired planet to create the chaos we inhabit now.

I can’t speak for everyone, but for me, the growth process during Clinton I was a series of baby steps, followed by panting reconsolidation, a few deep breaths, beers and chicken wings, then manning up and advancing the perimeter a few taps further.

Ironically, the goal posts always seemed to stay the same distance away, just over that horizon, but when I was young, this didn’t bother me very much. There’d always be time to reach them.

Perhaps if I’d have paid closer attention to end games, there’d be a cleaner script, but we play the hand we’re dealt. I have.

So it goes.

---

Those who spent any amount of time at the Public House during the 1990s and early 2000s saw an advanced beer program evolve only slowly. Owners and customers learned together, and there was a shared sense of achievement.

My sourcing options for draft and bottled beers were drawn from a relatively narrow pool, the bulk of it imported. When Sierra Nevada reached Indiana at some point around 1993, it was like a national holiday.

In some ways, reduced choice made stocking easier. However, it could be mightily frustrating, and there are infamous stories of me screaming intemperately at cowering wholesalers and other scurrying intermediaries.

One or two of these stories might actually be true – per week.

For the first 12 years of the pub’s existence, the word “guest” wasn’t even used to describe this evolving list. “House” and “guest” descriptors became necessary later, when brewing on site commenced in 2002, and was expanded in 2005 (with two new fermenters) and 2009 (Bank Street Brewhouse’s debut).

Brewing led the beer program in a different direction, though this was neither clear nor overtly planned in the beginning.

Subject to the limitations of our early pre-brewing pub budgets (in other words, could we afford to buy beer in a particular week?), the aim was to build a beer list that offered stylistic diversity at the best price point possible, given the extra expense of better beer.

In pre-Internet practice, this meant consulting books by Michael Jackson (and a few other writers), subscribing to magazines like All About Beer, and joining the UK’s Campaign for Real Ale.

Tactile books and periodicals informed staff and consumer alike, and gave them something to do apart from watching television (which we banned early on) and imagining what life would be like 15 years in the future, when smart phones would come into existence and suck the essence of enriching conversation from barrooms everywhere.

For several years, a three-tap cold box was all we had, and two of these faucets always were fixed: Guinness and Carlsberg, then later Pilsner Urquell. The third tap rotated by whim.

---

There were four basic rules governing my beer advancement program.

• Knowing the stories and history behind the labels.
• Understanding styles and being able to explain them to customers in simple terms.
• Trying as hard as humanly possible to keep printed lists and blackboards accurate and up to date.
• Insisting that when it came to purchasing, ultimate direction – the synthesis of knowledge and understanding - came not from a wholesaler or even a brewery rep, but from behind the bar.

Let’s begin with the latter, which has not ceased to be of critical importance in all the years since.

Working in a package store during the 1980s, I met many shiftless wine and liquor wholesaler reps, and while they were several rungs ahead of used car salesmen on the deportation scale, I learned to be wary. In almost any business, reps exist to sell you products you don’t need, for the benefit of their company.

I viewed my job as protecting my employer from needless expense, and when I became my own employer, knowing more about beer than most reps (exceptions indeed exist) became about far more than fiscal accountability.

It was about pride.

Consequently, I made it a point of honor to scoff at swag – except when accepting it, in which case I tried to be thoughtful and judicious. So long as the reps knew that swag alone wouldn’t sway me, we were good. More often than not, I repurposed these items to bolster the FOSSILS homebrewing club raffle.

To be sure, the sales scene is different now, but not as much as one might assume. Undoubtedly there are hundreds more available beers to fill limited taps and occupy scant shelf space. Consumer demand plays its role, but the ultimate filter still must be wielded by the bar manager or beer buyer.

It’s all about actively teaching customers what they want even if they don't realize it yet, and as for knowing stories and styles, entertainment and education are what separate professionals from novices. To be honest, I don’t care how much a customer thinks he or she knows after a quick glance at the empty mental calories on Thrillist.

No single person can know everything, but it is the obligation of all involved in the sale of better beer to possess an ability to explain and conceptualize. Knowledge remains the bare minimum requirement. It’s a value-added proposition. The more one knows, and can impart with clarity, the greater the chance of a satisfied return customer who tips well – and learns something.

It’s that basic, but at times I fear the art has been lost. Consequently, I sandbag quite a lot nowadays. Before ordering, I ask questions about beer to servers and bartenders.

Sometimes their answers are coherent, other times not. I’ve been known to cringe when listening to the panoply of “beer facts” as dispersed by staffers. I try to stay quiet and groan out of earshot, because I’m not the one signing their checks.

Fortunately, the creaky old saw about Bock beer being colored dark by vat scrapings from once-yearly cleanings finally seems to have gone the way of the tooth fairy.

Unfortunately, there’ll soon be a Sour Bock IPA to fill the nonsensical void. I’ll accept it with grinding teeth, but only if the beer’s three separate stylistic components can be explained to me by my server. If not, I’ll have a traditional Pilsner, please.

---

Food and drink lend themselves to constant reinvention, and yet it cannot be denied that there are eternal “classics” amid the bedlam. Clichés become such precisely because they contain an element of truth, and certain aspects of the human experience stand the test of time, whether an umbrella, mouse trap or De Koninck.

If I were to start over, conveniently ignoring pesky realities like rent, logistics and aching knees for the mere sake of conjecture, my plan of operation would be just this sort of time-tested, sustainable, “Classic Beer” programming, the fermentable equivalent of Stairway to Heaven, twice daily.

At my former business, we eventually incorporated our own brewery, guest taps, and hundreds of bottles into a bloated beer program that eventually had to be aggressively pruned to avoid capsizing itself.

I’ve no such grandiose ambitions in my dotage, and I don’t care to run a brewery, ever again.

Rather, my contrarian instincts tell me that the beer climate is ripe for a modest, thoughtful return to basics, emblemized by a relatively small list of classics on draft, and in bottles and cans, to be accompanied by some good, old-fashioned beer education, which seems to have been tossed aside in the era of mile-wide, inch-deep “craft” fandom.

Interpreting songs written by others may be the best singing I ever did, or might yet do. Next week, I’ll sketch this idea a bit further.

Let's sketch it here, instead:

ON THE AVENUES: An imaginary exercise tentatively called The Curmudgeon Free House.

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July 18: AFTER THE FIRE: Moss the Boss, his dazzling beer café, and what they taught me about “craft.”

July 11: AFTER THE FIRE: We are dispirited in the post-factual world.

July 4: AFTER THE FIRE: Euro ’85, Part 34 … The final chapter, in which lessons are learned and bridges burned.

June 27: AFTER THE FIRE: Out and about in America, Europe … and my cups.

__

The PC: This week in solipsistic beer narcissism.

The PC: This week in solipsistic beer narcissism.

A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.

Are you fed up with words you don’t understand?

Tired of scrolling down to your favorite contrarian beer columnist, then coming to a screeching halt when he uses words like “local multiplier effect” and “egalitarianism” in the very same sentence?

Hi, Roger A. Baylor here with an amazing new product – you’ve got to see it to believe it – called the Dictionary, and it’s a do-it-yourself confusion remover with professional results … guaranteed!

Just pick the word you want to define, match it to the alphabetical listing in the Dictionary, and read the answer.

It’s that easy.

And, because it’s wireless, there are no plugs, cords, batteries, tools or wiring to worry about.

With the amazing Dictionary, you can even learn how to pronounce the word!

The Dictionary contains all the words that you’ll ever encounter in this or any other column, and yet it’s small enough to put one in every room where you might find yourself reading the newspaper. Place one next to the toilet so you don’t have to go back downstairs to the den. Keep another on the porch for smoke breaks. The amazing dictionary fits in the glove box, in your purse or on top of the coffee table.

The Dictionary’s powerful information technology lets you define old words and learn new ones. It cuts through those multi-syllable, compound nightmares with ease, and talk about shock-absorbency … Watch while I shield my head with the Dictionary as my assistant attempts to beat my brain senseless with a RateAdvocate beer review.

See? Even after continuous pounding, my synapses are still transmitting neuron signals … and my session ale remains delicious.

That’s the power and protection of the Dictionary, folks.

Call now and you’ll get the Dictionary for only $19.99. You’ll also receive my handy Sticky Notepad and Self-Sharpening Pencil, absolutely free. Just copy the problem word from my column and stick it to the Dictionary until you feel like looking it up.

Yes, you’ll get the Dictionary, the Sticky Notepad and the Self-Sharpening Pencil, all for only $19.99. But if you call right now, I’ll double this entire offer. Just pay shipping, and you’ll get two Dictionaries, two Sticky Notepads and two Self-Sharpening Pencils. But you can only get this special two-for-one offer by calling now …

---

Way back in 2010, when 10 Barrel Brewing was but a gleam in Carlos Brito’s numbers-crunching testes, President Barack Obama returned to a theme often broached during his historic campaign for the White House. It happened during the 2010 State of the Union address.

“The best anti-poverty program around is a world class education.”

No, not the Indiana wholesaler.

Naturally, the precise components of a “world class education” are open to interpretation, discussion and debate between open-minded citizens, assuming you can find any of them in these idiotically polarized times, but the overall sentiment that education is a corrective to impoverishment has been proven to be truthful again and again.

I submit that the word “impoverishment” has more than one meaning as used in this context. We’d be correct in the assumption that there are clear and compelling correlations between education and the eradication of material impoverishment.

However, we might also consider impoverishment in creative, artistic and cultural contexts, and how one’s attitude toward the general topic of knowledge, pertaining to its veracity as an end onto itself as well as the tangible benefits gained from expansive education as opposed to a confining illiteracy, shapes what we know and the uses to which we put our knowledge.

According to the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle, who drank wine: “With regard to excellence, it is not enough to know, but we must try to have and use it."

What I think he meant is that possessing something of supposed value for the sole purpose of the object’s ability to reflect its “value” back on the holder somewhat misses the point. The true value is derived from the object being used wisely, and a well-rounded education supplies the means to make this determination.

Given the perpetual linkages between education and personal advancement, why is it that people choose to devalue the notion of education, eschewing the why, how and wherefore, and substituting in their place a solipsistic, narcissism-driven, knee-jerk, me-first hedonism?

Perhaps it’s the logical outcome of our American strains of materialism and consumerism. When it comes to pulse-quickening snobbery, exclusionary avarice and frenzied hoarding, the very last thought surfacing in one’s fevered, acquisitive brain is the possibility that all is not what it seems.

Do you still desire the object once it is revealed that the profit chain leads straight into the Texas-sized mass of plastic in the Pacific Ocean, or to the owners of factory-farmed chickens wallowing in their own feces, or to that bastard Obama’s pocket … or, into the very coffers of ISIS (read: AB-InBev).

Except you really want it, don’t you? You want it right now – and by “it” I refer not to a mass-produced Trojan Goose barrel-aged ale, but to a blissfully unexamined version of capitalist doltishness, wherein there are no reasons whatever for diagnosing the nature of the itch, only interminable scratching.

The writer Aldous Huxley called this phenomenon soma. If you don’t know the source of this reference, perhaps it’s time to read a book.

But I’m nothing if not stubborn. Ideas matter, and yet at present, both the country at large and my own beer and brewing milieu are dismally stupid and mercilessly tacky places. These daily tsunamis of crass materialism and consumerist greed have come to define the American experience, and even when the topic is “craft” beer – perhaps modern America’s signature accomplishment – we have digressed just as quickly into 24-7, must-have shopping zombies, pausing occasionally to thank Jesus for the blessed privilege of possessing our baubles, and ignoring what’s happening in our own back yards because there’s not enough status in mere localism.

It’s the old Chinese proverb – yes, you guessed it, the one printed on plasticized card stock suitable for framing, and available not from the heirs to Billy Mays, but from Wal-Mart via Guangdong Province:

"It’s all about me."

Yes, it is.

And that’s also why you don’t interest ME any longer.

---

What would happen if you combined classic sacred choral music with a thesaurus? You’d have a synonym for a seminal hymnal!

Hi, Roger Baylor here for the Sing ‘o’ Saurus. It’s no ordinary reference book.

Watch this!

Now up at LouisvilleBeer.com: "Tastes Like Coffee, Just Different."

It took only 15 months for me to make up my mind about a title for my twice monthly column at LouisvilleBeer.com, and when I did, it proved to be the same as it ever was: The Potable Curmudgeon. A nice, familiar ring. The festival in Cannelton, Indiana, described here was the symbolic end of event season, 2012. Lessons learned from the many place I visited this year are many, indeed, and I hope to begin describing them -- given the time. Always that.

Tastes Like Coffee, Just Different

Posted by Roger Baylor in The Potable Curmudgeon | 0 comments

(Note: Roger has decided to keep his moniker from his other blog. So from now on “Baylor on Beer”  will be known as “The Potable Curmudgeon”. Take it away, Roger…)

Earlier this year, I was contacted by a civic-minded resident of Cannelton, Indiana, which is situated amid verdant hills on the Ohio River, a few big navigational loops downstream from Louisville. If you’re not traveling by boat, Cannelton is about an hour and a half away. My contact, Rob, wanted to know if NABC would pour craft beers at an important annual municipal function in October: Cannelton’s Heritage Festival, which in 2012 was slated for double duty as the city’s 175^th birthday celebration.

Even More to Beer class: The Finale.

Thanks to MC for these two views of the Even More to Beer finale on Wednesday, March 28. As noted previously, the IUS department formerly known as Continuing Studies has become Discontinued Studies. I am contemplating an indie comeback for autumn, so stay tuned.

Advanced sampling with “Even More to Beer,” an IUS non-credit course, is coming again in March.

Join me for advanced sampling with “Even More to Beer.”

It’s the next step beyond my popular “Here’s to Beer” introductory course, but still accessible to craft beer newcomers. In theory, students will have completed the introductory section, but if your credentials are in order, exceptions may occur.

"Even More to Beer" is still open, so register soon.

Dates and times: Wednesdays from 6:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.; 4 sessions starting March 7, 2012, and ending on April 4, 2012 (we'll take a night off for IUS spring break on March 28, 2012.

Tuition: $79.00

Location: NABC Pizzeria & Public House, 3312 Plaza Drive.

Class Description: We’ll be in the Brewhouse with David Pierce, NABC Director of Brewing Operations … taste how the New World’s craft revolution changed the Old … immerse our palates in eclectic Belgians … and explore Cellar Door Selections, a tasting of rarities from the Public House lock box.

To register: Call IUS at 812-941-2206 and/or go here.

"Here's to Beer" begins anew on November 2.

It's last call for the final autumn session of Here's to Beer, beginning next Wednesday at the Public House. Follow the link, pay the good folks at IUS, and come hear me tell stories ... some of which are actually true. Did I mention beer samples?

Here's to Beer

Doing things the right way. Is it possible?

It's the sort of depressing experience everyone endures on occasion. During the course of a meal at one of our favorite local eateries, I was told NABC Beak's Best was on draft, and ordered one. I was served NABC Tafel. On the ticket, I was charged for NABC Elector.

I'm saving the worst for last: The bartender decided to hang an orange slice on the glass.

Earlier that day, I'd ordered a draft Guinness at another local establishment, and it was brought to me in one of those Sam Adams foo-foo receptacles.

There's no need to embarrass anyone, since in both cases the problem was the same: A brand new, and obviously under-trained, bartender. Simply stated, these experiences point to something that can make or break all of us, namely that if the first line of contact with customers hasn't a clue, neither do any of us.

I've confided to readers that for the past couple of years, the stress and strain of Bank Street's start-up have mightily impacted my schedule of education. I keep looking for the magic bullet, which would enable me to do everything at once: Shill for my own company, but also shill for craft beer in general; educate about NABC beers but also about craft beer in general; and, in short, come up with a presentation that covers all these bases.

Maybe that orange slice finally has showed me the way forward. Maybe the basics of beer education must re-commence, beginning with our own staffers, and then radiating outward from our home base, into the surrounding areas.

I'm working on it. Beer outreach ... not "reaching out," but evangelizing for a purpose. This sounds promising.

My next "Here's to Beer" IUS course begins soon, and there's still time to register.

On Wednesday night, my first "Here's to Beer" section of the fall 2011 semester wraps up with a social gathering at the Against the Grain brewery in Louisville. The second fall section approaches in November (information below). I'd like to commend all the pupils for their attendance and great questions. These courses are about them, but they're also about me, in the sense that teachers invariably learn much from their students. Learning is a dialogue, not a pedagogue.

The second and final fall session begins on Wednesday, November 2, and there's still time to register. Follow the link for more information, and please spread the word. Thanks.

Here's to Beer (IUS non-credit beer course; 4 sessions)

Wednesday Weekly: Ruminations on education.

Last evening, I presented a program entitled "A History of Breweries in New Albany." It was sponsored by the Floyd County Historical Society, and took place at the Calumet Club (1614 E. Spring in NA), a three-story brick structure from the 1920’s that the Bliss family has lovingly restored over a period of years.

The ballroom on the top floor of the Calumet Club is where some day in the future, I would like to stage an entirely unique beer and food festival. Since I’ve yet to determine what this might be, and how it might work, there can be no further details at this time. Just remember: I warned you.

Pending a sharpening of my event-planning faculties (shut up), I can provide advance notice of an NABC gala coming in late January to the current parking lot at Bank Street Brewhouse. We’ll be holding the annual Old Lightning Rod release party a bit later than the usual date of January 16 (Benjamin Franklin’s birthday), and doing it outdoors in the company of Steve Thomas’s legendary olden times, open air roasting of various meats. Think of it as Colonial Carnivores Outdoors.

With the proliferation of ethnic dining flair in downtown New Albany comes exciting new opportunities for beer pairing dinners in conjunction with NABC. There is Italian (La Bocca), Cuban (Habana Blues), Mexican (La Rosita’s) and German (if the Steinert’s kitchen crew is willing – they do schnitzel, you know). We’ll be working on a few ideas along these lines as the winter settles in, and excuses to eat and drink become necessary.

Also, a slate of beer dinners is being planned for Bank Street Brewhouse. Chef Josh Lehman is looking at an evening with locally produced, artisanal cheeses, and also stepping outside the box with Bank Street’s first ever wine dinner, featuring our local winery partners. GM Joe Phillips has a bourbon tasting in the works with the Crossroads Vintners wholesalers. It’s all about the beer, but of course, there are always other angles to explore and cherish.

The “fall semester” of Office Hours with the Publican has been both enjoyable and instructive to date. The general theme has been a gradual trawl through the Beer Judge Certification Program’s style guidelines, with concurrent tastings of examples found on the Public House’s bottled beer list. The final goal is to facilitate the long overdue new list, but as in many journeys, the little insights along the way are proving to be gratifying.

I’ve learned that when it comes to Doppelbock, higher alcoholic strength actually can be a detriment to my enjoyment, as the chewy maltiness lessens with greater attenuation. I now know the exact differences between Cream Ale and Blonde Ale, even if I rarely consume either of them. And so on. Remember that the public is invited to Prost each Monday at 6:30 p.m., and participation costs only $5 most of the time.

My final class of the current “Here’s to Beer” course sponsored by IUS’s division of continuing studies will take place this evening. The next entry-level class will be offered in February, and then in March, I’ll attempt to muddle through my first attempt an advanced level session, for which previous entry level students will be eligible. Honestly, I’ve yet to determine how the advanced course will work, other than more detailed tastings. There may be guest speakers, and we may meet in different places. All options are on the table, and I’ll issue an update at a later date.

My next “Food and Dining” magazine piece is due in a few days, and after the election has passed, I’m due to sit down with interested parties to discuss reviving the concept of the “Mug Shots” column with a different host than LEO. Readers will recall that Wednesday Weekly came about as a way to keep in shape while awaiting another column opportunity. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, because I wouldn’t mind a few more dollars of beer money, just for the fun of it.

Presentations, events, pairings, columns, classes … these, then, constitute my ongoing commitment to education in better beer. I believe it is critical to continue teaching, because beer enthusiasm is a phenomenon that engages the mind as well as the palate. It’s what sets the genre apart from simple alcoholic satisfaction, and serves as metaphor for other worthwhile pursuits.

It is for these reasons that seeing the like-minded in action is a cause for joy. It’s why the Louisville Beer Store is such a great addition to Louisville beer culture, and why the new Eiderdown eatery has such wonderful promise. Principles to preface proliferating options – that’s the educational worldview that might help set metro Louisville apart from other like-sized areas when it comes to the uniqueness of local beer culture. It’s something we should continue defining and expounding.

As we’ve always said at NABC: We’re for it.

A memorable Wednesday of education, music, food and beer.

Freely conceding my bias, permit me to say that Wednesday evening at Bank Street Brewhouse was the sort of festive and happy time that vindicates all the stress and hard work.

The last session of my IUS non-credit beer class met at BSB on Wednesday night, and it was an informative ending for another fine group of 17. The February class was more experienced in beer, and knew more of what to expect. Many participants in the April section had less knowledge of beer’s stylistic diversity, and occasionally some of them ducked the high, hard ones … but in the end, I think they progressed wonderfully.

On Wednesday night, artist Leticia Bajuyo and her assistant completed work on the Bicentennial Art Project installation. When night falls, sensors trip the lights inside the walls of the trapezoid, illuminating the beer bottles. We’re looking at redirecting one of the security lights on the side of the Taxpayer Memorial Patio so as to enhance the sculpture’s lighting.

There was a cask-conditioned firkin of single-hop Amarillo APA that didn’t last long, and of course the music of Gumbo Family Quartet, Jared’s and Tommy’s new/old aggregation of musicians. I enjoyed what I heard. The garage doors were up, and Chef Josh’s culinary choices were impeccable, as always. People were moving in and out and around, soccer was on the screen above the bar, and outside, it was still humble New Albany, but enhanced by the experience.

Like I said, I’m biased. And vindicated.

"Here's to Beer" class profiled in the IUS Horizon.

As a graduate of Indiana University Southeast, it pleases me to no end that I'm able to teach the non-credit "Here's to Beer" courses. Recently staffer Leah tate of the IUS student newspaper dropped by Bank Street Brewhouse and set in on the final class session for my February group: wordpress.com/2010/03/07/non-credit-course-educates-students-on-history-of-beer/" rel="bookmark">Non-credit course educates students on history of beer.

Yes, you must be 21 ...

Next up: April, with class dates on the 7th, 14th, 21st, and 28th, all Wednesdays, from 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m., and at our original location, the NABC Pizzeria & Public House, 3312 Plaza Drive (just off Grant Line Road) in New Albany. Get on board by going to the Indiana University Southeast web site.

Finally, for those who've taken the class previously or can prove to me that you're worthy, there'll be an advanced level Here's to Beer coming this fall, probably in September.

What winter weather? Class is ON for tonight.

It's Wednesday ... if you are registered for the February section of my IUS "Here's to Beer!" class tonight, consider that there are no snow days for beer drinkers, so I will see you at 6:00 p.m. for Happy Half Hour.

Class begins at 6:30, and there will be sampling. Jeremy will be your server, and I will be your educator.

If you're interested in the April course offering -- and I'm told that five people already have signed on -- the class dates are the 7th, 14th, 21st, and 28th, all Wednesdays, from 6:30 p.m.* to 8:30 p.m., and at the NABC Pizzeria & Public House, 3312 Plaza Drive (just off Grant Line Road) in New Albany. Contact IU Southeast for registration information.

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* The Happy Half Hour noted above is purely optional. Classes begin at 6:30 p.m.

"Mug Shots" today in LEO: "Bear the better beer torch."

Beer class starts tonight. There'll be another section offered in April. Until then, just keep practicing.

Mug Shots: Bear the better beer torch

Last weekend, the Mug Shot family watched Steven Soderbergh’s “Che,” the 2008 cinematic ode to Che Guevara, and while I know this will incite the usual round of anguished finger-pointing about my Communist leanings (how unspeakably droll, yet they persist), Cuba never was much of a beer-drinking country, anyway.

Rather, at one juncture in Part One of “Che,” the revolutionary leader realizes many prospective recruits to the cause can neither read nor write, and he institutes literacy classes as a core component of the 26th of July Movement.

To paraphrase Guevara: Absent literacy, the individual is much more easily misled by the powers that be.

How do you get to better beer? Education, education, education.

Education is vital to the expansion of the better beer perimeter.

To me, it’s axiomatic. One may come to better beer without knowing much about the brewing method, beers styles, geography, history and culture, and that’s perfectly fine.

However, the more one knows about these matters, the greater the possibilities. Enjoying a flavor is the starting point. Knowing who, why and wherefore helps to place the flavor in context. Beer education provides the back story, and helps to grow the love and to expand the savvy of the consumer. It transforms casual adherents into torchbearers. I believe in it wholeheartedly.

These days, I’m in the position of devoting much time to selling the products of my own brewery, and both understandably and financially, I’m bullish about NABC. At the same time, I’m determined not to neglect the mandate to educate about beer – all beer, and not just ours. My goal has always been to act as fair broker for information about the whole world of better beer, hence my twice monthly columns in LEO and quarterly contributions to Food & Dining, not to mention daily blogging, facebooking and tweeting. Questions? I'll answer them if I can, and if I can't, I'll try to point in the right direction.

Thus, the good news: February’s “Here’s to Beer” class has 15 students, by far the largest enrollment in this, the third running of the IU Southeast continuing education course. Both the university and the Publican are ecstatic. The class begins on Wednesday, February 3, and will be repeated in April, so if you missed it this time around, another chance is coming. Class dates for April are the 7th, 14th, 21st, and 28th, all Wednesdays, from 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m., and at the NABC Pizzeria & Public House, 3312 Plaza Drive (just off Grant Line Road) in New Albany. Contact IU Southeast for registration information.

More good news: I’ll be delivering a talk on beer to the Irish Society in Louisville on Tuesday, February 2. It is entitled, "Themes in Irish Beer and Brewing." There will be elements of beer in a general sense, with an obvious focus on the Anglo-Irish experience, and an effort to provide at least a partial answer to the question: Irish and German immigration occurred roughly simultaneously, and as such, why did the German brewing tradition take hold in America, and not the Irish?

Because of these two commitments next week, there’ll be a slight delay in the advent of Office Hours with the Publican. There’s just no time to get this off the ground on February 1, so instead, I’m moving it back a week to an inaugural date and time of Monday, February 8, 6:30 p.m. in the Prost area of the Public House.

Office Hours is intended as an hour-long weekly skull session with samples, freewheeling and self-contained, with a modest sampling charge for participants and the opportunity to eat and drink before, during and after the session. Some topics will be announced, while at other times, the topic of the night will be determined on the fly. Expect occasional guest speakers and impromptu entertainment. We’ll have fun, then see where Office Hours goes after a couple of months on the air.

Finally, it is my hope that there can be more one-off classes like “Porters: A History of the Style” at the Liquor Barn last December, and in conjunction with these educational considerations, I’ve commenced the (as it turns out) Herculean task of reformatting the Public House beer program and converting the beer list to reference by style rather than national origin – not an original thought by any stretch, but a necessary one. In doing this, I’m using style definitions from the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP), which in turn are used in Cicerone training.

Education can be tiring. Is it time for a beer?

Weekend potpourri: NABCieged, beer education, Bonfire & Chorizo, Pungent & Funky, and pairing cheese with beer.

NABCieged is underway at the Pizzeria & Public House, with a surprise tapping last night of Thunderfoot perhaps serving as the major highlight of the evening. Thanks to Jared Williamson for burrowing into #3 for the Foot, and managing to have 24 NABC beers pouring all at once.

At my other blog, there's a timely update of "Here's to Beer," two non-credit courses from Indiana University Southeast, including registration information.

My weekend Bank Street Brewhouse recomendation: Bonfire of the Valkyries, NABC's Rauch/Schwarzbier (smoked/black), with Chef Josh's Chorizo Hash.

On the topic of food, tonight is the annual FOSSILS Pungent & Funky Appetizer Competition, held in the Prost wing of the Public Hosue at 3312 Plaza Drive in New Albany. Want to know something else? FOSSILS turns 20 this coming September. Where have all the years and liver cells gone?

Finally, a tip for Monday night: Will's and Roger's excellent beer and cheese pairing adventure at Campbell's Gourmet Cottage, Monday, January 11.

Will's and Roger's excellent beer and cheese pairing adventure at Campbell's Gourmet Cottage, Monday, January 11.

On Monday, January 11, Campbell's Gourmet Cottage is pairing the Cheesemonger with the Publican for an educational evening of cheese, beer and banter.

Louisville-area cheese guru Will Eaves will join me at 6:30 p.m. for a nourishing and instructive journey through our respective genres. The cost is $45, and for more details and on-line registration, you can visit the Campbell's web site.

Following are the bare bones, as Will and I outlined last week after a fine evening session of research at the Public House. He's working on extended cheese descriptions, and I'm doing the same for the beers. With luck, I'll have the expanded version ready tomorrow.

EIGHT CHEESE AND BEER PAIRINGS

Delice de Bourgogne
Duvel

Sapori Dolce (goat cheese)
Sierra Nevada Pale Ale

Cahill’s Farm Porter Aged Cheddar
NABC Bob’s Old 15-B Porter

Widmer Farms Aged Brick
Schlenkerla Rauchbier Marzen

Petit Frere OR Epoisses
NABC Hoptimus

Grand Cru Gruyere Surchoix
Saison Dupont

Chimay Fromage Trappiste
Chimay Premiere (red label)

Moody Blue
Weihenstephaner Korbinian Doppelbock

BONUS PAIRING

Red Dragon
Vintage Gueuze Lambic (brand to be named)

IUS non-credit "Here's to Beer" course to be offered in February and April, 2010.

Through the kind offices of Indiana University’s Southeast’s Division of Continuing Studies, there’ll be two offerings of my non-credit beer education class during the spring semester of 2010.

The first time we held the class in the spring of 2009, I was inspired to write about it: Beer class tonight.

The 2010 listings aren’t yet posted at the web site, but here are the dates and a description. I forget the exact price, although it seems to have been in the $60 range, which includes my time and tales, the venue and numerous beer samples.
It’s called “Here's to Beer.”

Description: Once upon a time, beer was just beer. No longer. Beginning with an overview of the brewing process and the history of beer, learn how to distinguish Pale Ale from Imperial Stout through words and samples.

1st session: February: 3, 10, 17, and 24 (all Wednesdays)
2nd session: April 7, 14, 21, and 28 (all Wednesdays)

Times: 6:30 p.m. – 8:30 p.m.

Location: NABC Pizzeria & Public House, 3312 Plaza Drive (just off Grant Line Road), New Albany 47150.

The last class session each time will be moved to Bank Street Brewhouse in downtown New Albany if agreed to by the group.

To register, inquire at the web site when the time's right. Questions about content can be referred to me at the address in my profile.

Beer class tonight.

Here's the "Mug Shot" for this week's LEO:

How’s this for a college course listing?

Once upon a time, beer was just beer, but no longer. Beginning with an overview of the brewing process and the history of beer, we'll learn how to distinguish Pale Ale from Imperial Stout through words and samples.

The class begins tonight, and much to my delight, I’m the teacher. The Division of Continuing Studies at Indiana University Southeast contacted me a while back about Beer-Ed as a non-credit offering, and after a quick calendar check and ten minutes sipping from one of the required texts, I agreed to take my turn at the lectern.

Saying “yes” was the easy part, primarily because the necessary syllabus did not exist until I sat down to write it. After all, without a rough guide to inform the actual samplings, the endeavor wouldn’t be very educational. Here are a few starting points for students (and LEO readers).

Even before the scientific process was understood, mankind has been wonderfully creative when gazing upon the bounties of nature and determining how to render them into alcoholic beverages. Consequently, human societies and fermentation are inextricably linked. All human societies cook, and all of them ferment.

The production of beverage alcohol through the natural process of fermentation occurred for thousands of years before eventually intersecting with what we might call “modernity” in the sense of science, economics and capital accumulation, at which point the art of brewing moved from households to factories, and became commoditized according to the logic of the industrial revolution and mass marketing.

In spite of everything we profess to know about the history of beer and brewing, particularly when it comes to the alleged holiness of the beer style definition, it must be remembered that beer represents a foodstuff – a beverage derived from agriculture for the purpose of preserving the value of a crop, adding additional value through the transformation of raw barley, hops and water into a finished article, and most importantly, dramatically enhancing human happiness.

In short, modernity stole beer from the people … and now we’re stealing it back. Also, words of advice: Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be Liteweights. And, to conclude: Friends don’t let friends drink bad beer. Beer should taste like beer was meant to taste … and my class will help you learn exactly what that means.

Sorry, but it’s too late to register for the current session. However, there’ll be another one taking place on Wednesday evenings in July. Call IUS for information at (812) 941-2206.

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With less than eight hours of classroom time, it’s axiomatic that the best way to learn is to taste. Beer’s flavor spectrums are both deep and wide, and after three decades of the craft beer revolution, categorizing them can be challenging.

If you find yourself at the bar of the Irish Rover, Louisville’s truly original Irish pub, look at the taps behind the bar. For the most part, they are representative of classicism in beer and brewing: Guinness, Smithwick’s, Harp and other beers that have been brewed for decades and sometimes centuries.

Beer enthusiasts identify these by style: Dry Stout, Red Ale (both top-fermented ales) and Golden Lager (bottom-fermented lager). To ace Beer 101 is to become fluent in these style designations, but to progress from beginning to intermediate beer appreciation is know that in contemporary terms, stylistic rules are made to be broken.

As an example, Bluegrass Brewing Company’s two head brewers, David Pierce and Jerry Gnagy, both brew dark ales from the British Isles. Stout and Porter are similar. While typically black in color, Stout is characterized by the use of highly roasted barley, which is not a component of Porter. Gnagy’s Porter is overly strong, and so prefaced with “Imperial.”

So far, so utterly classicist, but then both brewers age their ales in recently emptied Kentucky bourbon barrels, and by doing so, the tasty result is an expanded style definition for the contemporary era.

In olden times, beer was served from wooden barrels. It seldom was aged in barrels previously used for spirits or wine. Modifying the flavor characteristics of beer by infusing it with flavors from a barrel is a thoroughly modern conceit.

Classic and contemporary: Know the difference. Class dismissed.

The Publican's doing a beer class at Campbell's Gourmet Cottage on April 24.

I'll be teaching a "Beer 101" class at Campbell's Gourmet Cottage on Thursday, April 24. Campbell's is located at 291 N. Hubbards Lane (Louisville, KY 40207), and the phone number is (502) 893-6700.

Here is the description from the current spring catalog:

Thursday, April 24th
Roger Baylor - The New Albanian Brewing Company
$45.00
“Beer 101”

Join Roger Baylor, our beer expert, as our beer tasting will begin with the familiar and conclude with the esoteric, with several tasty stops in between. The world of beer offers numerous flavors and textures for the enjoyment of the drinker, and we’ll sample 2 or 3 ounces each of eight very different beers from America and the world. We’ll consider an overview of the brewing process and what factors play into the different styles. It is hoped that when we’re finished, participants will have a better understanding of beer and beer styles, and feel less confusion when looking at the many choices on store shelves. (Must be 21 years or older to attend)