Beers in New Orleans (12/12-13)
Last weekend, my wife and I went down to New Orleans with a couple of friends for the weekend. We'd gotten an awesome deal on a hotel in the Garden District from Travelzoo.com. And it was worth it. But this isn't a travelogue, so I'll just tell you about some beer. Note: I'm only going to talk about beers that I actually drank last weekend, even if I might reference other beers I didn't.
Full disclosure: we did drink our fair share of regular old domestic beer (i.e., High Life and Budweiser) because we're not made of money, shit. Aside from those beers, we had an awful (read: good) amount of Abita beer. This is to be expected since Abita is, to my knowledge, the premier brewery in Louisiana. Some of these Abitas I'd had before, but some were new to me.
Most people who've tried Abita beer probably know about Abita Amber, Turbodog, and Purple Haze, but there other beers that are just as good, if not better. We'll just go down the line, or what seems like the line in my head.
Abita Amber: This beer is an easy, brown ale. Craft beer can't get much more accesible than Abita Amber. It's a solid beer, comparable to something like Newcastle or even, hell, Michelob Amber. Anyway, I'm more a fan of the other quirkier Abita beers. I had one of these because it was the best thing at whatever given place we stopped at.
Abita Jockamo IPA: I'd never tried Abita's IPA before, and wasn't totally aware it existed, so I got a couple of these at a bar in the Garden District (Cooter Brown's). I'd love to say I loved it, but I won't. I will say that it was hoppy, but not excessively, and mildly sweet. I think I just had expectations of more hops than it had. But, admittedly, I did order it twice, so I must have liked it well enough.
Abita Christmas Ale: Similarly, I'd never tried this beer either. It's dark like a porter or stout, and it tastes a little like both--maybe more like a porter. There's also some type of spice or sweetness to it that I couldn't place. It seems like it'd be a heavy beer, but it really wasn't. Also had two of these.
Abita Andygator: I tried this beer last winter while in New Orleans, and wanted to have it again to write down what it tasted like. Andygator is Abita's 8% abv beer, and I wanted to try at least one. So I ordered it in a fairly crowded oyster bar restaurant, and I did get a beer. But I don't think it was Andygator. It looked and tasted about like Miller Lite or Budweiser draft. I couldn't remember what Andygator was supposed to look/taste like, and I didn't want to ask and look either dumb or like an asshole, so I drank it and stayed quiet. If anyone can tell me: "You didn't get an Andygator," please do. I need to know.
That's all for Abita beers.
We (my wife and I) also split a pitcher of Boddington's. It was Boddington's--low carbonation, light color, and easy taste. Good British bitter.
Sierra Nevada Torpedo (Extra IPA): So, I didn't really drink this beer, but my friend got one, and I tried it. If you can find this beer, get it. The hops are the main event, and there's a reason Sierra Nevada is Sierra Nevada--their beer kicks ass. Again, if you can find it, get it. You can direct any complaints to me.
Moretti Rosa: We stopped in at an Italian restaurant near the French Market that was having a half price drink special, which we, like good little consumers, took advantage of, and had a few beers. The only problem was that they only had a few beers, three of which were Italian. After I'd finished my big spill (we'll save it for another time) about how Italian beer isn't any good (Italians do plenty of other things well though: film, food, wine, and Italo Calvino was, basically, Italian), I tried the Moretti Rosa. It's a dark lager that somehow reminds me of Abita Amber. I probably won't go out of my way to find this beer again, but it certainly disproved my theory about Italian beer being shitty--or at least it's the exception that proves the theory (don't exceptions prove theorys? I'm not sure).
It's likely that I've forgotten a beer or two, aside from the domestics, and if I remember a forgotten beer, I'll update. So for now, you've got a run-down on some good beers that you can for sure find in New Orleans, not to mention plenty of other towns, cities, villages, and beer stores. Get to gettin' 'em.
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Here Comes the Beer
I'm going to be shifting gears and focusing, almost exclusively, on homebrewing and beer. In an effort to more narrowly define my site and hopefully find a focused niche, I won't be posting about all of my interests anymore. Nobody's a pro at it all, except maybe Tom Waits, and I ain't Tom Waits.
I'm currently trying to find a new home (read: blog) for The Box of Vinyl Project (only one rejection so far) because I think the idea is too much fun, and hopefully, to you guys, interesting, to quit altogether. If you know of a blog that it might fit in well with, let me know. I'll definitely send them a proposal to pick it up. And I thought submitting to literary magazines was hard. Sheee-it.
So from now on, you can look to Typed Slowly for all of your fermentation-related interests and also to satisfy your time-killing urge at your terrible job (everybody's job sucks--yours is no different--unless you're Jim Koch) by reading about beer. Fun, fun, fun. Yes, yes, yes.
Having said that, I'll probably manage to sneak in a post about a book, record, show, film, internet video, or lawn-mowing experience every once in a while--while Kirby's not looking. Mum's the word.
On the sunny side, I'm starting another feature to fill the canyon-like void that will be left by The Box of Vinyl Project. We'll call it (adopt Don LaFontaine's voice (look him up)) Drinking It All. The title sounds a bit more Dionysian than it actually is. I'll be setting out on a mission to try every beer I can get my hands on. I realize I've set myself up for failure from the beginning (it's tragically flawed); I can't possibly drink every beer made. But I'm goddamn gonna try. It'll be fun. I'll drink beers you wouldn't consider smelling. I'll drink beers I wouldn't normally consider smelling. Emphasis on the drinking here, not the smelling. I'll take suggestions and I'll make suggestions. It'll be educational. Economical. Inspirational. Farcical. It'll be about beer.
It's fixing to all be about beer.
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On the Turntable
What's good this week:
Against the Peruvian Monster--Man Man (The Man in a Blue Turban with a Face)
World Class Fad--Paul Westerberg (14 Songs)
Evil--Interpol (Antics)
Strange--Built To Spill (Ancient Melodies of the Future)
Winner's Blues--Sonic Youth (Experimental Jet Set, Trash & No Star)
Bomb. Repeat. Bomb.--Ted Leo & the Pharmacists (Living With the Living)
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The Worth of Art’s Evolution Leading to Its Abandonment
Nabokov's latest trick on academia
With Nabokov's unfinished, final novel, The Original Of Laura, finally being published next week, literary scholars and apprieciators are likely to be either defending the publication (which Nabokov explicitly opposed) or siding with Nabokov. As a fan of the few Nabokov novels I've read, I'll admit that I'm a little interested in taking a crack at the new "novel." However, I can't help but feel strange about reading what (I've heard) amounts to a rough draft outline of the novel knowing that Nabokov asked that it be destroyed if he died before he could finish it. But I can see obvious merits to both the defenders' and opposers' of publication points of view.
This Nabokovian controversy brings up an interesting (to me) question of whether or not the evolution of a work of art, be it notes for a novel, scratched out lyrics for a song, or storyboards or deleted scenes for a film, should be considered another part of the artwork or if the end result should have to stand all on its own.
In an article on Slate.com, Aleksandar Hemon argues against The Original Of Laura's publication, and he quotes Nabokov:
"An artist should ruthlessly destroy his manuscripts after publication, lest they mislead academic mediocrities into thinking that it is possible to unravel the mysteries of genius by studying cancelled readings. In art, purpose and plan are nothing; only the results count."
So Nabokov isn't much a fan of the academic literary unravelers/deconstructors. He's definitely not alone. Lucky for me, any analysis I make of literature might be a lot of things, but it sure as shit ain't academic.
While it would arguably be pretty interesting to know what might have been going on behind the scenes of Exile On Mainstreet's creation, or see some structural notes Wallace might have used when writing Infinite Jest (let's just see how many times I can reference that book on this blog), would/should it enhance or affect how we look at/read/consume the finished work of art?
(In observation of the (correct, I think) philosophy that a "work of art" is never finished but is instead only abandoned, we'll call what's been released or published the "finished work.")
To me, the short answer is no--what leads up to a finished work shouldn't be considered part of the work itself. False starts, rough drafts, deleted scenes, notes, and failed takes are sometimes interesting in and of themselves, but I don't see how they can logically be given enough weight as to affect the finished work in any meaningful way. Otherwise said notes would have been incorporated in the finished work, right? I'm obviously not much for the school of thought that art can take on different meanings, other than what the creator intended, after it's been released. Whatever Faulkner meant for us to get out of The Sound and the Fury, he included in the text, however confusing it might sometimes be. If I'm listening to Rage Against The Machine's self-titled record, I can't superimpose proletariat (forgive me the Marxism) ideals onto the lyrics that don't cohere with the politcal atmosphere of 1992. A work of art should exist only to the extent that it literally exists. Everything outside the work itself is out-of-bounds. Two-stroke penalty.
So, for me, Nabokov's new "novel" seems like it can be little more than a priviledged look at how one of the 20th century's most interesting writers got his shit together. Three-hundred pages of notecards is certainly not a novel, finished or otherwise. But in the end, I'm still wanting to read the damn thing, but then again, I'll read just about anything (emphasis on just about).
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Carl Sagan: Posthumous Recording Artist
As a fan of Carl Sagan, reader of Scientific American and pop science books, and believer that I understand some of what people like Hawking, Feynman, and Kaku do/did/do, I figured I had to post an entry about this little video I read about earlier in the week (over at Pitchfork (also of note: Jack White is releasing the song as a 7")). Apparently, somebody took footage from Cosmos, the Carl Sagan c. late 1970s/early 1980s miniseries, added music and autotuned Sagan's voice into a song.
I'm almost 100% sure this video is awesome. Although with the recent ballyhoo about Chris Farley's posthumous commercial career, I imagine some killjoys might see it as tasteless. With the possibility that interest in Cosmos, Sagan, or science in general may be sparked in people who aren't necessarily trained in a scientific field seems, to me, to justify the video's existence and, I hope, popularity.
Now if someone will just put Mr. Wizard to Portishead or Aphex Twin. Weird.
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On the Turntable
what spins
A list of what I want to hear this week:
Smog vs. Stars--The Glass (Hibernation)
Titan--Les Savy Fav (Cat and the Cobra)
100%--Sonic Youth (Live at Battery Park)
Don't Take Your Guns To Town--Johnny Cash (Love God Murder)
Lust For Life--Girls (Album)
AT & T--Pavement (Wowee Zowee)
Shoot The Singer--Pavement (Watery Domestic EP)
Written In The Snow--The Autumn Defense (Circles)
The Queen Is Dead--The Smiths (The Queen Is Dead)
Kissing The Beehive--Wolf Parade (At Mount Zoomer)
Watching The Planets--The Flaming Lips (Embryonic)
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On Stouts: Don’t Judge A Beer By Its Color
Today, the New York Times ran an article about Stouts (the beer) in which the author, Eric Asimov, and others tasted 19 different American stouts. Asimov (no relation to Isaac?) made a pretty good point, and one that is often overlooked or ignored, that stouts traditionally are low in alcohol, possibly even lower than the Buds, Coors, and Millers of the big breweries, and have a much more delicate flavor than the name implies and the color indicates.
You can check out the article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/28/dining/reviews/28wine.html?_r=1&8dpc
This discussion of stouts makes me wonder, as I have before, why so many people tend to classify beers, and base their own preferences of beer, solely on color. While color sometimes provides an indication of what a given beer will taste and smell like, it's by no means fool-proof.
I've tried to think of an apt analogy for this phenomenon, but the best I've come up with is "Don't judge a book by its cover." The ugliness of a given John Grisham book's cover will not keep people from reading it en masse, just like the attractiveness of a new edition of David Foster Wallace's 1000+ page Infinite Jest will not likely be an impetus to read or not to read. End lit. references and book analogy. There are just too many things that go into making a beer that affect how it tastes to only consider what it looks like. Are people really so lazy that they make their drinking choices, important as they are, based on appearances? Don't they realize that they primarily taste the beer, not just observe it? Yes, goddamn people are lazy.
To be fair, I'm sure plenty of people actually do choose to drink a dark beer, such as a stout or porter, because of the color rather than the taste. But that doesn't really help me prove my point or strengthen my argument so I'll not discuss it. (This isn't a fucking comp 2 paper.)
I'll stop with the lecture/bitch session there. In any case, next time you ask what a certain beer is like, try not to ask if it's dark or light. Ask if it's particularly hoppy or not. If the answer you get doesn't mean anything to you, don't worry about it. Nod your head, pick it anyway (try something new, it's easy), and just be glad you're drinking a beer instead of doing something else less fun.
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10/30 Poacher Flyer
What's photoshop? I got tape, bitches.
Here's the flyer for the Poacher show next week. I think I might have spent way too much time with scissors and tape today. Now I know the tediousness of creating a ransom note. It's super-tedious. Look for this beauty the next time you're in Dave's. Also, please don't tear it down.
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Missing Tom Waits Live
A little over a year ago, in July '08, Tom Waits played in Birmingham, AL as part of his "Glitter and Doom" tour. I remember finding out about the tour a few months earlier and telling my then-finacee that we would have to go no matter what because I wanted to see a Tom Waits show more than any other show I could think of, and I told her what date he'd be in Birmingham. She had bad news for me and had to spoil a fairly big and cool surprise.
glittery
We were getting married at the end of that May, and she had already put together her wedding present to me. She had planned a trip to Chicago for a few days and got tickets to see a Tom Petty show as well. So we'd be in Chicago on the day of the Tom Waits show. I felt like a sizable ass for messing up the surprise and making a big deal out of the whole thing. Tom Petty and Chicago were both a really good time, and I'm pretty sure I didn't even think about the other show I was missing.
So yesterday I learned that Tom Waits is putting out a double live record from the same tour. And you can download the first 8 songs for free from his website. Awesome. And the second record of the set is one long track of stage banter called "Tom Tales." Kick-ass. And it'll be released on vinyl in addition to CD. Choices. And it's pretty exciting all-around.
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Damn the Torpedos and such…
The fact that I'm writing this, and you are currently reading this, you non-passive participant, means that I've crumpled beneath the behemoth, soul-taking, time-killing, ever-present way to avoid productive (assuming you're a good little worker bee) work...blog. Honestly (be honest. Honestly, c'mon.), I fought it, derided it, kicked it in the throat, laughed at its dog while it was taking a shit, and but then I bought it. But still, I didn't think I'd be writing it. So we (I) find ourselves (myself) here. It's awkward--I apologize.
Here's what I think you can/should expect from this site:
Fun and FUN
Discussions of music, books, and movies that don't cause you to run to the dictionary (not that that'd be a bad thing. Look some shit up sometime.) or turn your nose in the direction of Kael, Christgau, or Kakutani.
Egalitarian thoughts on all beers and all things beer. DogfishHead-Milwaukee's Best
Pictures. Everybody likes pictures! And exclamation marks.
Multiple grammatical errors committed by someone who should know better. Let's get critical--on your mark, set...
Caution thrown to the fuckin high winds, amps turned to eleven, and
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