This is a like-minded post, relating to a series we (Hot Knives) are doing on our blog about the best beer stores on our drunken radar. While we certainly won’t be biking to P-town on our upcoming Great L.A. Beer Run, you should hop on two wheels and book it to Southeast Portland to revel in the glory of your region, and our favorite drink…

Portland is known the world over to be a haven for beer and its drinkers. From pub-cinemas to epic brewers’ festivals, PDX is all about our favorite elixir. We have a bit of a “love/hate” feeling about the insanely available and affordable wealth of ale that extends from outside Beaverton to Troutdale, mostly from our city’s lack of love for beer on the mass-movement scale that Portlanders share. In L.A., the beer lover is separated from her lifeblood and her brethren by an endless city of cities, most of which have no definitive beer store, and no bars with brews of higher caliber than Stella Artois (now property of England). In Portland, every convenience store has a beautiful bomber for a bargain; every grocery store’s refrigerated section leaves us breathless.

On our recent foray in your city the need for a beer store visit was unquestionable. After seeing Yacht on a Yacht, getting drunk with said maritime namesake after disembarking from his namesake, and knocking out a super radical brunch for 20 plus hung-over compatriots, we only had one destination in mind.

Our trip to Belmont Station reinvigorated our conception of Portland as Mecca. It is a quaint shop, filled to the proverbial brim with exceptional beers both known and new. What’s more, we arrived at the beginning of a seven course beer tasting and lecture by the head importer for Shelton Brothers, a specialty distributor of very special beers. At first our throbbing heads kept us anchored to pub stools, drooling over lambics and golden ales brewed at night by dudes with day jobs. After seven rounds of the rare and expensive at no charge, and some cold air from an older beer hack, we shook ourselves out of the hangover and mustered the guts to shop.

The selection at Belmont is outstanding. It took us a good twenty minutes to take in the three walls of reachin fridges and even longer to decide what the hell we were going to cram into our suitcases. The inventory was completely refrigerated, save a few aisles of six-pack overflow in the center of the store. Each reachin was organized according to country of origin: 2 domestic-micro, 2 Belgian, 1 German, 1 Bavarian, 1 English and one more (which housed the seemingly inconsequential). We heard whispering at the bar that most of the regular stock was kept in a low light basement lock up, to protect the integrity of the brews. Shit, these people advertise using special UV filtered lights in the show room to deter early oxidation.

Two sentences ago, we noted something that heretofore had been unknown and impossible for our squeaky little brains to conceive: the über beer store has a bar attached. Not only can you waltz into this place and find the best beers available in our giant unappreciative-of-anything-more-than-piss-colored-fizz country, but you can drink them…in…the…store. Every one of 700 beers advertised has a listed sales price for both takeout and sit-down. So, you’d rather not commit to a draft pint of Stone’s Imperial Russian Stout on that has been aging in quiet darkness under the watchful eye of the Belmont crew for a full year? How about a 750 of De Ranke’s XX bitter? Or a 12oz of dry hopped St. Rouge’s Red, or a goddamn Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA (20% alc. by volume)? Whatever you want: pull it from the fridge and sidle up to the bar. Proper glassware will be provided by the barkeep.

This store should be your new destination for party fuel, your shopping center for liquid accompaniments to great food, and your pre-dusk haunt for after work unwinding. The closest thing to a flaw that we found at Belmont was empty spaces where wonderful beers (Pizza Port, Great Divide, Lagunitas etc.) would have been. Lack of such solid stock in a place like this can mean only one thing: that beer freaks abound in Portland and they know where to go for drink.

Go to Belmont Station, grab a cold Hair of the Dog, think of us.

Staff: Notably siked enthusiasts who look and feel dearly familiar.
Refrigeration: Nearly everything, except the over-stock shelves, and the seceret underworld, ostensibly cooled by moist North Western soil.
Split Six Packs: Absolutley.
Belgians: Strong focus on micro-belgians like De Ranke.
Micro-Brews: Fantastic selection, all major states and breweries accounted for.
Special Powers: Did we mention the bar?
Achillies Heel: We live in L.A. (you do not).
Location: Here.

The black and tan is a drink of beauty. It’s about balance and harmony. It’s right up there with yin and yang, light and dark, good and evil. And sucking on one has this uncanny ability to make you feel like you’re wearing a long, wizardly beer cloak.

Excluding some tepid Guinness and Bass ale concoctions we slurped at bars early in our beer career, our first deep and true black and tan experience was in Portland: Deschutes’ Obsidian stout mixed with Mirror Pond ale. The thick, oil slick of their renown stout is perfect for mixing with a crispy light ale — it’ll probably always be the ideal by which we measure all black and tans forever. If we lived in Portland, we would drink nothing else.

But we don’t; we live in California — where any number of flavor combinations lay at our disposal. To celebrate that enviable diversity, we put three ales to the black and tan test: Speakeasy’s Prohibition ale, Lagunitas Censored ale, North Coast Old Stock ale. We poured each one into a glass followed by Anderson Valley Oatmeal Stout and took note on how well each one cooperated. Indulgent, yes, but extremely necessary. And if you happen to drink your beers in the state of Oregon… well all of these are NoCal and reachable. In Portland, try John’s Marketplace.

Prohibition Ale

This amber-ish brew seemed the best choice among hoppier beers. Usually the bitter twist of a hop heavy beer wouldn’t lend itself to the delicate balancing act required of a “tan,” but we thought we’d give it a shot.

The result was totally drinkable, but nothing we’d repeat. The hops break through the stout like a National Geographic ship cruising through the North Pole. The herby aroma even makes it to the surface. But all in all, the combo didn’t fit — we weren’t, after all, looking for a ‘black and hops.’ Part of the problem stems from Prohibition’s own identity crises: it doesn’t know if it’s an amber or an IPA. It’s even won a medal in both categories in the World Beer Championship. And there’s no room in a black and tan for indecision.

Censored Ale

Annoying packaging gimmick aside, this is one of Lagunitas’ better beers. It’s light on booze and strong on red-tinted, sweet caramel maltiness. It’s trusty on its own.

When drizzled into a stout, especially this one, Censored knows how to play the part. The robust oatmeal heaviness led the way with the copper ale hitting tongue buttons on first sip and somewhere in the middle, without tampering with the sour stout aftertaste.

This match felt classic: It was kinda like pouring milk on a bowl of cereal.

Old Stock Ale

If you’ve had Old Stock before, you’re probably scoffing. Let’s just say we conducted said test on St. Patrick’s Day, so we were feeling cocky. (We also ate a large green meal and it still wasn’t enough padding to keep from getting dizzy what with the 11.5% ABV on this fucker.)

This brew is extremely toasty and dry. We imagine it’s what weathered old beer guys like to age in their basement and go down and play with when they’re mad at their wives. The immediate notes are masticated fruit and leather, straight up. Paired with oatmeal stout was ultra heavy, definitely too much but in a good-bad way, not a bad-bad way. The rolling aftertaste has more carbonation in it than most strong ales, which actually worked quite well. One danger with a traditional black and tan is the slightly stale, bubble-less mouthfeel of the thing. Here it was drinkable partly because of how it danced down your throat. This was not your average black and, but we dug it. We kept drinking all afternoon and dug ourselves a comfy little K-hole that was hard to crawl out of too though.

And the winner is...

Lagunitas Censored Ale

A long time ago, my mother was telling me about a cousin of mine who was a bit of a hippie. One of the stories she told me about this person I had never met, was that she had a party with her friends where they ate the placenta from her recently born baby. Not really an unheard of practice, but certainly something to ponder.

Eventually I met this cousin and spent a few days with her, her husband and her son. I quickly came to the conclusion that my mother's story had just been an exaggeration borne out of inter-familial Southern gossip.

This cousin moved to Portland, found it agreeable, and told me I should consider moving as well. A couple years later, I acted on her advice and I've been living in the best city on Earth ever since.

Shortly after my arrival in Portland, I was looking through her refrigerator and saw a large jar with cloth covering the mouth. What was inside? It certainly looked like it could be amniotic fluid, and that thing floating in it was close to what I imagined a placenta to look like. Also, my cousin had given birth to a baby girl fairly recently. Were the rumors true? My wife and I were perplexed. I mean, you can't exactly say to someone, "So, is that a placenta in your fridge?"

We said nothing, and the mystery continued for a short while. One possibility I had in mind was that it might be the "Russian tea mushroom" that someone had told me about a couple years ago, but for some reason that seemed unlikely to me. After all, we were nowhere near Russia.

Of course, this ended up being exactly what it was (much to my relief). The mystery was solved one day when my cousin offered some of the liquid to us and explained what it was.

Most people refer to it as "Kombucha," although this is actually a misuse of a Japanese word for a type of kelp tea. The "placenta" part is known as a scoby, an acronym for "symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast," which is exactly what it is.

The process is not unlike brewing beer (an analogy that helps to get over the "gross factor"). The scoby sits in a large container of sweetened tea and processes the sugar. The product is slightly carbonated, and best described as a sparkling tea with a hint of apple cider vinegar. My wife and I had been drinking a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar in water for a few months for its supposed health benefits, so it was an easy transition.

The alleged health benefits of Kombucha are numerous, although the only scientific evidence I could find was in the Wikipedia article on Kombucha, which states that it acts by enhancing the detoxification efficiency of the liver. However, Kombucha enthusiasts claim many more benefits, including increased energy. Read that Wikipedia article for more history and such.

There are several commercial brands of Kombucha tea, including Kombucha Wonder Drink, which is made right here in Portland. They ain't cheap, though, so it's best to just brew your own.

Step one: Obtain a scoby and some Kombucha tea. Some of our friends have grown their own by letting the commercially produced stuff sit in a jar until the scoby forms, but when we tried this it did not work. Fortunately, you can buy a scoby on eBay (natch) for a small price. You will need about a cup of already-processed Kombucha tea because it keeps mold from forming.

Step two: Brew up a gallon of sweet tea with a one and a half cups sugar. Make sure you boil the water for 5 minutes or so to eliminate chlorine. Use green or black tea. Do not use herbal teas. Do not use any metal utensils. Do not keep the tea in anything except glass or cereamic containers. If you do, your mogwai will turn into a gremlin and you will be screwed. (Note: It's ok to boil the water in metal.)

Step three: After the tea has cooled to room temperature (this takes forever), add the scoby and the cup of Kombucha tea. Cover the mouth of the jar with a paper towel or some cheese cloth.

Step four: Place the container in an area out of direct sunlight (does not have to be completely dark), where it will be at a comfortable temperature. It wants pretty much the same temperature of air that you do.

Step five: Wait a week. The scoby will be doing its thing. If fuzzy mold forms, then you will have to start all over again. The scoby will grow and become more dense.

Step six: Bottle most of the Kombucha tea, keeping enough to start the next batch. Leave some room in the bottles or jars because the tea will continue fermenting and carbonating. Refrigerate the bottled tea.

That's pretty much it. You will just use the new starter tea and your scoby to repeat the process. The scoby "mother" will make new "babies" that you can give to your friends or use to increase your output. Eventually you will need to replace the mother with one of the babies because they "die".

Here is a picture of our scoby at the start of its second batch of tea:

And here it is a week later:

So there you have it. It is quite a tasty beverage, and if you believe thousands of years of rumors, it might also be very healthy for you.

Reprinted from North

Beers of the Eastern U.S.

While Mike and I were ramblin' around the Eastern United States, we decided to pick up local beers from each of the places we visited. We ended up with a selection of seven brews (in sequential order (2)):

• Kentucky Ale (Lexington, KY)
• Oberon Ale (Kalamazoo, MI)
• Dirty Bastard (Grand Rapids, MI)
• Pipe Organ Pale Ale (Pittsburgh, PA)
• Celestial Gold (Pittsburgh, PA)
• Blue Heron Pale Ale (Saratoga Springs, NY)
• Brooklyn Pilsner (Brooklyn, NY)

Once collected, it was time to taste.

I recruited several friends to partake in the sampling (3). (Mike had to leave Atlanta relatively soon after we returned from the road and was unable to participate.) I spent some time researching our beer selections and the tasting process. I even prepared a short presentation (2.3M PDF) (which I didn't end up using because of technical difficulties).

We popped the tops and proceeded to make our way around the country, letting the malt and hop aromas transport us to far away lands. Then we rated each beer using a score card available from tastebeer.com.au.

Admittedly, few (if any) of us had any idea how to fill out the score cards. For instance, I couldn't tell you the difference between "hoppiness" and "maltiness." So the following ratings should be taken with a grain (pun intended) of salt.

For each beer, I'm going to list it's average rating (from 1-5), it's rank among the beers tasted, and then some of the keywords/comments from the scorecards. (1)

Kentucky Ale

Average rating: 3.6 Rank: Second

The Kentucky Ale received pretty high marks from most tasters. According to more than one rating sheet, the ale had a sweet flavor with good bitterness and a low-intensity, short aftertaste. However, a couple tasters noticed an off aroma of "cooked vegetable" and one added "diaper" in the margin -- certainly not what the brewer had in mind. Despite the negative comments, this beer ranked second in the field and among this reviewer's favorites.

Oberon Ale

Average rating: 2.75 Rank: Fifth

Some reviewers found the Oberon to have a cloudy appearance and poor head retention. The quality rating was merely "acceptable" to some and even "faulty" to others. It was found to have good carbonation with a medium intensity, but one reviewer marked it's charcter as "shifty" and noted a vinegary aftertaste.

Celestial Gold (2)

Average rating: 2.4 Rank: Seventh (last)

This selection was almost universally despised. Despite it's sparkling clarity, reviewers selected the harshest adjectives on the scorecard -- skunky and solven-like -- to apply towards this brew. One taster added their own, noting that it "reminds me of my ex."

Blue Heron Pale Ale

Average rating: 2.5 Rank: Sixth

Unfortunately for our taste-buds the Blue Heron provided little relief after the Celestial Gold. The Heron was described by several tasters as being too bitter. One even wrote "death" in the margin of the aroma section. The person who liked this brew the most gave it a four, and noted a full-bodied beer with a dry texture and high-intensity aftertaste.

Dirty Bastard

Average rating: 4.1 Rank: First

This beer gained favor with our panel as soon as the name was announced. This was the darkest beer of the evening. The majority of reviewers noted a chocolate flavor in this full-bodied brew. The aftertaste intensity was also consistently rated "high."

Pipe Organ Pale Ale

Average rating: 3 Rank: Fourth

The Pipe Organ did better than it's corporate cousin, Celestial Gold, but that's not giving it too much credit. According to the judges, the Organ had a bitter, sour taste. None of the other categories received any consistent marks: The aromas included grainy, roasted, floral, pine, sweet, spice and toffee. With such a wide range of views, perhaps its appropriate that this was rated in the middle of the pack.

Brooklyn Pilsner

Average rating: 3.5 Rank: Third

The Brooklyn Pilsner, based on the scorecards, is a dry, medium-bodied brew with good bitterness and a medium intensity. As the last beer of the evening, the Brooklyn selection may not have had a fair shot, considering our palettes may have been oversaturated. Then again, this one did spend the least amount of time in the trunk, so that may even up the handicap.

Conclusions

Congratulations to Grand Rapids and Founders Brewing Company's Dirty Bastard. This beer received the highest marks from our seven-member panel and, thanks to it's catchy name, was the talk of the evening.

---

(1) There were seven tasters at the event, but two snuck away with their authors, so the calculations are based on the five remaining scorecards.

(2) Due to a clerical error, the beers were not tasted in sequential order.

(3) I should issue a word of caution that the beers tasted are not intended to accurately represent the overall quality of their hometowns. Also, beer-o-philes will likely be up in arms (or bottle openers) at our amateur attempt to describe the subtle and complex flavors and aromas of these beverages.

The Brewers Association has announced the winners of the World Beer Cup 2006. Oregon only came in 5th with 11 medals (behind Washington (12), Colorado (12), Wisconsin (14), and California (25!)).

Of the eleven medals Oregon breweries took home, three were gold, three were silver, and five were bronze. If you are thinking a brewery tour sounds like a good idea, you are right! I've made a Platial map of Oregon's World Beer Cup Winners.

Bridgeport's Blue Heron Pale Ale was the Gold Medal winner for the Ordinary Bitter category.

The Bridgeport Brewery recently converted to a Pearl district fancy place that seems like not the best place to enjoy this beer. I'd recommend buying some at Fred Meyer and enjoying it with friends at home.

Caldera'a Caldera Pilsener Bier was the Gold Medal winner for the Cellar or Unfiltered Beer category.

I've never heard of this brewery! They make a lot of beers! I'll keep an eye out for this one in the future.

Rogue's Shakespeare Stout was the Gold Medal winner for the American Style Stout category.

For some reason I tend to ignore Rogue beers. Perhaps because of the weird event they had when they launched a new rum and had people dressed as pirates show up. They have a brewpub right near my work in the Pearl, so I imagine I can give this a try very soon.

Pelican Pub won two silver medals. Their Kiwanda Cream Ale in the Golden or Blonde Ale category and their India Pelican Ale in the American-Style Pale Ale category. The Kiwanda Cream Ale was beat out by the Wisconsin based Hereford & Hops Brewpub's Whitetail Ale. The India Pelican Ale was beat by the California based Russian River Brewing Co.'s Bling Pig IPA.

Another brewery I'm not familiar with and two more beers to add to my "Drink This" list.

Rogue also picked up a silver for their Morimoto Black Obi Soba Ale in the Speciality Beer category. The gold medal winner was Flossmoor Station's Pullman Brown Ale in Illinois.

I have no idea what to expect from this, but I'm very interested in trying it!

Caldera's second medal was a bronze for their Caldera Dry Hop Red in the American-Style Extra Special Bitter or Strong Bitter category. The gold went to Walking Man Brewery's Walking Man IPA in Washington.

it sort of scares me that I haven't heard of this place. Two medals and it's all new to me!

The cutest beer in Oregon, Full Sail's Session Premium Lager won a bronze in the American Cream Ale or Lager category.

I don't understand how Texas based Pabst Brewing Companies' Old Style could take gold. (Pabst Blue Ribbon also won Gold in the American-Style Premium Lager category) They have it at Apizza Scholls.

Laurelwood Brewing's Organic Deranger (not listed on their site?)picked up a bronze in the Imperial or Double Red Ale category. Pizza Port Solana Beach's Shark Attack in California won the gold.

I've seen this brewery but never been inside. I'll definitely check it out, though to be honest I'm more interested in Pizza Port's Shark beer. :)

For some reason listed by the Brewers Association as an Oregon company, Pyramid won two bronze medals. Their Pyramid Hefeweizen in the American-Style Hefeweizen category and Pyramid Crystal Weizen (not listed?) in the American-Style Wheat Beer category. Gold in the American-Style Hefeweizen went to Iganosato Mokumoku's Haru Urara of Japan and Cascade Brewing's Cascade Blonde Lager of Australia took Gold in the American-Style Wheat Beer category.

Funny how Japan and Australia won two of the American-Style categories. Also funny how Pyramid isn't an Oregon company, it's headquartered in Seattle, but is listed as one. I guess that means we only only won nine medals.

You might think that a cocktail lover like me would find winter drinks depressing. It's true, most mixed drinks are chilled, but I look forward all summer long to some of my favorite warm winter drinks. Here are a few to keep you company on this snowy day.

Grog

This is how pirates keep away from the scurvy, yarr.

Add the following to a mug:

1 1/2 oz dark rum
1-3 Tb honey (to taste)
Juice of 1/2 lemon

Top off with boiling water. Mix in mug and stir.

Variation: add some finely grated ginger root for a delicious ginger-lemon treat.

Hot buttered cider

Hot buttered rum is usually made with water, but I like it with cider. You can make spiced butter and buy plain cider, but it's easier to just buy spiced cider from the start.

Add to mug:

1-2 oz dark rum (depending on how strong you like it)
pat of butter
Brown sugar to taste

Top off with hot spiced apple cider to taste.

Mulled Wine

Also known as 'vin chaud' or Glühwein, this is a great way to make a mediocre bottle of wine delicious, and a good bottle even better. Great for holiday parties!

2 cinnamon sticks
5 whole cloves
5 whole black peppercorns
1/2 tsp allspice berries
1 bottle red wine
2 strips orange zest (remove white pith)
1/4 C granulated sugar
1 Tb granulated sugar
1 - 2 Tb brandy

1. Toast spices in medium saucepan over medium-high heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add wine, orange zest, and sugar; cover partially and bring to simmer, stirring occasionally to dissolve sugar. Reduce heat to low and simmer 1 hour until wine is infused; do not boil.

2. Strain wine and return to saucepan. Stir brandy into wine; taste and adjust sugar and brandy to taste. Serve immediately in mugs.

CHEERS!

The always inspiring, supportive, and incredibly nice Shayla brought this soda loving man a treat from her recent traveling adventures in Turkey. Cola Turka (amazing Turkish flash intro on their website btw) is made by Ülker which appears to make many different kinds of chocolates and such and also has a TV station...maybe. The design for Cola Turka almost, and I repeat ALMOST has the vibe of an American grocery store generic cola in that it is simple, but it is soo much better. The white text on red and red text on white is classy and the stars are like super awesome clip art.

While getting deep on Cola Turka, I found a cool commercial that ya'll can check out.

I debated briefly whether or not to crack open the Cola Turka, but being a believer in the concept that things are meant to be experienced and not looked at (aka impatience) I promptly opened my Cola Turka not 24 hours after being presented with it. The taste was pleasant, it's closest relative being RC Cola, but not quite exactly RC. I would definitely drink Cola Turka again. A truly radical present, thank you very much Shayla.

Friends! It's May! Can you believe it?? I can't quite, but then on these beautiful mild evenings where the sun stays up so late I dare to think that it'll be summer soon. Summer! Spring may be when a young man's thoughts turn to love, but summer is when my thoughts turn to barbecues, watermelon, homemade ice cream, corn on the cob...and of course, cool, thirst-quenching drinks.

I like all kinds of refreshing summer drinks. I love a homemade iced tea, sweet and lemony on the porch in the sun. I can't get enough of the soft punch of mint julep just as the sun gets low. Ask me for my Indian ginger-cucumber-lemon cooler recipe sometime; it's fantastic. I love homemade lemonade, agua de jamaica (a Mexican sweet drink made with hibiscus flowers), root beer floats, and filling our kegerator with light, crisp lagers instead of winter ales.

This summer I'm planning to add two new drinks to my list: clara con limón and tinto de verano, two drinks Fiona and I discovered during our recent trip to Spain. They're very easy, refreshing and delicious, but first you have to get over the seeming blasphemy of mixing beer and wine with soda.

Both of these drinks are based around lemon soda; in Spain they often use Lemon Fanta, but better yet is when they use a sparkling lemonade made with real lemon juice (such as my favorite Spanish brand Kas). In the US, you can find many options at gourmet/nature grocery stores, but a good standby is San Pellegrino Limonata.

These drinks are simple to make: for a clara con limón (also known as cerveza con limón), fill a glass half-full of a cold, light lager-style beer (such as any decent pilsner). Then top off with lemon soda. To make a tinto de verano, pour a red Spanish wine over ice (nothing fancy; everyday tinto will do just fine) and add lemon soda to taste. For both drinks I recommend starting with equal parts soda and beer or wine and then adjusting to how you like it.

I'll be drinking plenty of these this summer; they're the perfect way to beat the heat and dream of further travels to sunny Spain. Next time you bike by, be sure to stop in and I'll make you one too!

(Photo courtesy Fiona)

I made up a drink for my sister last night; she likes them "not too strong" (I have to put that in quotes since I'm not sure what that means).

Ginger Rose

1/2 lemon
1 1/2 to 2 oz vodka (depending on your tastes)
1/2 oz Cointreau or Triple Sec
dash angostura bitters (optional)
squeeze of fresh ginger juice (press a chunk through a garlic press)
soda water

Muddle the lemon in a cocktail shaker. Add ice, vodka, Cointreau, bitters, and ginger. Shake well to mix. Strain into a highball or double old-fashioned glass, add a few ice cubes, and top off with soda water to taste.