The Staff Of Life, Liquified

Beer was liquid bread. Bread was solid beer.”

– Tom Standage, “A History of the World in Six Glasses

Walking in is as different at every beer hall as it is the same. Different decor, different vibe to the place, different service… different menus to be sure. Behind it all is a shared sensory vocabulary, however, that make each reminiscent of the others.

The arrangement of tables in the hall, sometimes, so that there is a selection of intimate booths for those who want to drink alone or in very select company and long linked tables for boisterous get-togethers and ersatz parties among colleagues. The general geography- you can see the seats and you can see the bar (the style and texture of which again reflects the mood and vibe of the place.) There is a clear order of operations to be observed here. A ritual to be followed and walked as carefully and unconsciously (for the faithful) as the Stations of the Cross.

A selfie of the author wearing an olive green newsboy cap, green tweed vest, and white shirt raising a pint of dark beer.
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Real-World Questing- “If It’s Silly But It Works, It’s Not Silly.”

(Full Disclosure: I wrote this post last week, but then… well, last week happened and I was exhausted, and this week is Christmas weekend so my brain is pretty much an electrified potato right now. Thank you for your patience!)

If you follow my Instagram, you’ve noticed I’ve been posting a lot of stories about beer in Portland lately. Not unusual in general maybe (#drinkerwithawritingproblem,) but just especially lately.

I found out casually while getting a post-shift beer at Von Ebert Brewing that they and several of my favorite local breweries decided to do a holiday “ale trail” called “The 12 Days of Gristmas”- “grist” being the term for the milled grain and mash bill used to make beer.

12 breweries.
12 holiday beers.
Get a stamp for each one, turn them in at the end for up to 12 raffle tickets to win swag.

It’s silly. I probably don’t need swag. No one needs beer enough to strategize how to hit as many breweries on the list as possible in one day on foot. I certainly don’t.

I love beer though.
I love supporting my local businesses that make good things.
I love walking around through Portland.
and I didn’t mind questing for something where the only thing at stake is my liver… but that’s what the walking is for.

Whatever breaks the despair and gets you out and moving is worth it.

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How To Serve A Season: Autumn

It took growing up for fall to be something I looked forward to. Growing up on the Jersey Shore, itt meant the start of school, the tourists going home after leaving all their money and trash behind, the streets becoming cold and quiet, and the beaches being empty to enjoy any stray warm days after Labor Day.

In college, I got to see the legendary “Hartford in the Fall” and enjoyed the changing leaves, the coziness of hot beverages and fire pits at night, and the death of all the bloodsucking insects that swarmed in the summer.

Now, in the PNW, I get to experience and enjoy autumn on my own terms. I get to wear warmer, fuzzier clothing more. Evenings spent drinking whiskey in my cozy rocking chair are the constant rather than a treat, and IPAs finally start to vanish from taplists to make room for the darker, maltier beers I love.

AND the mosquitos drop dead. Wins all around.

It is Pie Time.
It is Stew Time.
It is Scarves and Hoodies and Shawls and Tweed and Not Making Excuses for Wanting to Stay Home and Be A Hobbit Time.

I’ve still gotta go to work though, so I’m working on sharing as many of those vibes as I can through food.

Basque-Style Pumpkin Cheesecake with Candied Squash, Pomegranate, and Corn Cranberry Florentine. Seasonal dessert I created for Amaterra Winery.
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Sandwiches I Have Known and Loved

They can be basic. They can be opulent. They can be artisanal, antique, unwieldy, oysgeputz, offensive, unfathomable, and unconquerable. But they are always, unquestionably, themselves- and require no explanation.

Sandwiches are beautiful things- a convenience food par excelence– and here are some of my favorites.

John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich- aristocrat, gambling addict, and apparently a culinary genius.
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Living Simply Isn’t

My friend Victoria lives a life a lot of folks claim to dream of, myself included.

She lives in a house next to a state park, warmed by a wood-fired stove. She, her husband and toddler keep a garden and raise ducks and turkeys, the structures of which she and her husband built themselves. When she isn’t baking or cooking what her husband hunts and fishes, she and her business partner go hiking and foraging for the ingredients they use to make their botanical lotions and cosmetics as Wily Coyote Botanicals.

She is still a wife and mother, still maintains a household, and somehow has all the energy needed to maintain all these things AND co-run a business.

“Simplifying your life” takes a lot of work, learning, and relearning. Victoria has been fascinated and working at it for most of her life, but what can a tragically urban writer/baker with “#bighobbitenergy” do?

I caught up with her to ask a couple questions about the “simple life” and for most of us, it will start small- with hobbies and curiosity.

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