The art of the saloon

McSorley's Saloon

Speaking of magazines (I’m posting this before the post about DRAFT but since most people read blogs from top to bottom you’ll likely see this second) … the new All About Beer (March 2007) has a feature about the art of beer.

The introduction concludes “the real journey in seeking art can’t be hired out. You have to get involved. Here are a few suggestions to get you started.”

In that spirit I offer you the picture above, one of many paintings and etchings of McSorley’s Saloon that artist John Sloan did between 1912 and 1930.

The interaction between art and beer (in this case beer place) created a virtuous circle. Whenever there was a public exhibition of Sloan’s paintings, business boomed in the bar – and more artists came to make more paintings. Joseph Mitchell immortalized the bar in The New Yorker, and his essays were later compiled in the book McSorley’s Wonderful Saloon.

McSorley’s was tagged as America’s most famous bar in the 1940s when Life magazine ran a picture story about a day in the life of the alehouse. It’s never really given up the title.

Brown is beautiful

A New York Times Dining section tasting panel evaluates brown ales today (registration required). To reference the ongoing discussion we’re not having, they are not ex****e beers.

Eric Asimov writes:

As with great character actors who are so easy to take for granted, you have to pay close attention to brown ales to appreciate their virtue. They have roles to play “quenching thirst, facilitating conversation, sharpening the appetite” and they do it well. If by chance you notice the fine, almost sweet maltiness of the aroma, and the brisk, dry, mineral quality of the flavors, even better. More likely, it’s the absence of these qualities in a poor example that stands out, conveying the sense of something missing.

EllieTheir favorite beer was Ellie’s Brown Ale from Avery Brewing. The described it as, “Brisk, with rich malt aromas. Fruit, mineral and bitter hop flavors.”

Not a surprise to us in New Mexico, because we were drinking Ellie’s Brown and 14’er ESB before back in the mid-90s before Avery became better known for its stronger, hoppier beers. Brewery sales declined between 1998 and 2000, the year The Reverend (10% abv, dark and Belgian-inspired) came out.

The Rev and ex****e beers that followed fueled six years of onging growth and expansion. We like those beers. They weren’t the result of a less-than-fundamentally-sound brewer throwing in more malt and hops – and maybe a funky yeast – to get attention, but the product of a brewer using already well-honed skills.

And even if we didn’t drink The Reverend, Hog Heaven, Salvation and the rest we’d be happy people chasing the X beers are buying them somewhere. Othwerwise when visitors asked me about my favorite brown ale I might sadly answer, “It used to be Ellie’s Brown.”

Instead I can reach into the garage fridge and say, “Try this.”

The higher meaning of cheap beer

In this corner we have Stephen Beaumont, pointing out to us the affordable pleasures of beer. (Noted earlier in the day.)

brewhouseIn this corner we have Mike Seate of the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review telling us that Beer snobs forget the true meaning of beer. He writes about how expensive beer he finds beer in some Pittsburgh bars and about how pretentious he views the drinkers who pay that price.

I was writing about Stephen’s post when Loren’s note about Seate’s column arrived. A few hours later when I returned to write about that topic it I saw that everybody has something to say.

– The comments at Beer Advocate had more than doubled.

– Jay Brooks weighed in, admitting “I should be ignoring what he’s saying but I can’t. The bait is there and I took it.”

– Alan McLeod focused on another different bit of the colmun, writing:

So, given the concerns, is there something to the column Mike Seate wrote? Is it perhaps the case that we do not like as beer nerds to look at ourselves as beer nerds but some sort of evangelists surrounded by fools or at least the unheeding doomed? If so, what does that mean for our understanding of the meaning of what we beer nerds are doing?

Whew! Alan, that’s a bit of self analysis I need an expensive beer or to in my belly to undertake.

So with all these conversations going on I’m picking just one to comment on – or not.

Back to the headline: “Beer snobs forget the true meaning of beer.” Then Mr. Seate’s conclusion that “beer is supposed to be a workingman’s drink” and that he’ll be drinking on the cheap.

So the true meaning of beer is that it is something “working class people” drink and thus it must be cheap?

That’s too silly to comment on.

Quick additions on 1/19: Quite well said by Stephen Beaumont, and a solid discussion at the Burgundian Babble Belt.

28 days of beer with change left over

Gee, I wish I’d thought of this idea.

The February issue of Food & Wine magazine has an article telling you how to “Become a Wine Expert in 28 Days.”

Stephen Beaumont saw this and did the math:

Just for fun, I added up the month’s wine costs and found that, not including the Sonoma wine-country weekend the author advises the reader to plan on Day 17, the total price of becoming a 28 Day Wine Expert is $1,792, or an average of $64 a day.

Then he imagines “if the story had instead been ‘Become a Beer Expert in 28 Days.'”

Day 2 in (Michael) Steinberger’s story highlights a $40 syrah, for which I might substitute a solid American IPA costing about $3. Day 3’s Tuscan red from Gaja ($38) could be replaced by a robust brown ale or two for $5 or so . . .

His point? “When it comes to purchasing power, the beer aficionado has it all over the oenophile.”

Hey, Stephen, you need to finish the month for us.

10 years of San Diego beer

When the first round of national enthusiasm for craft beer was reaching its zenith in 1996 things were just starting to get going in Southern California. In other words, San Diego was a little behind the curve. But the hits just kept on coming and you certainly wouldn’t say that today.

The San Diego Union-Tribune recounts the last 10 years, explaining the premise – then heading right into 10 events that rocked our beer mugs, 1996-2006.

The joy in this article is in the extra detail Peter Rowe provides – there’s surely a parallel here with the extra steps that Jeff Bagby and Noah Regnery go through at Pizza Port Carlsbad to squeeze that additional hop flavor into Hop Suey.

Looking forward to “Ten changes on San Diego’s brewing horizon” next month.