Lagunitas Lucky 13

Slipping this beer into a pint glass sounded a lot like two-inch fingernails — painted precisely a deep crimson red — clicking on a car door. It felt like wind and someone nibbling our ears. Half a bottle got us buzzed like we can only imagine you get when removing miniscule black underwear from a girl with hoop earrings and a femme pompadour. In a word: lucky. We wonder if that's what the people at Lagunitas were shooting for with this, their 13th anniversary copper brew. The word "lucky" seems fitting for another reason. Because even though the brewery is often hailed as a No-Cal up-and-comer, Lagunitas remains a hit-and-miss brand. We love some of their beers (Maximus, Number 9) can't drink others (Cappuccino Stout, Brown Shugga). This high-octane amber is a step above — or a stroke of luck — but either way it embodies what the company does well. A wispy head gives way to a Labrador red liquid. It is both exceptionally hoppy and sweetly bitter at first taste, before giving way to an almost metallic burnt caramel. Being a middle-of-your-mouth kind of beer the tastes come in waves: a tease and a door slammed in your face. The last note of every sip, however, is so fucking sweet.

Dairy Pairy: Alsatian Munster
Soundtrack: Sonic Youth's Goo

The last of our posts about leprecon days long gone concerns the culinary treats made by Irelands finest livestock: cheeses. Most people’s minds stop at cheddar when thinking about any cheese from the U.K. and Ireland. Then again most people think the 600 different cheeses from France taste like Brie…

These two gems came from the glorious Anglo cheese conglomerate Neal’s Yard Dairy by way of Silver Lake. Neal’s Yard is a family run business that’s been making and selling the best English, Irish and Welsh cheese sine 1979. In the past ten years their influence on American cheese stores has been heavy. If you are every in a cheese monger’s hovel and you see something with a Neal’s Yard label, you should probably buy it. If its got some weird Celtic name it’ll probably be a little intense, but in a Nieztchean “it builds character/buck up” way. If you hunt down any of the cheddars available through Neal's Yard, especially Montgomery’s or Greene’s, well lets just say you’ll tell Tillamook to go fuck themselves.

Gubbeen

Gubbeen was one of those Zarathustras that will forever leave a mark on our palate’s memory. It’s a washed rind cheese, meaning that after its been formed into a wheel it gets dunked in brine and salt over and over again, so it has a discernable stank to it. A relatively young cheese at 2-3 weeks affinage, it has a velvety semi firm pate, and a meaty flavor that packs a serious secondary bite. Starts off gamey ends like a Protestant shepherd’s rubber thigh high in your face: a slight sting, a little sour, but strangely invigorating.

Grain: La Chouffe “IPA”
Grape: Laboure Roi Pinot Noir (2005)

Crozier Blue

One of two prominent blues from Ireland, Crozier is the only sheeps milk blue made in Ireland, or the surrounding U.K. for that matter. It is surprisingly sweet and mild. If you’re a beginner with blue cheese this will be totally doable, and if you’re a lover of brutal blue bite, this one might leave you alone in a cranberry bog. However, there are very nice notes of fresh cream, nuts, and hay in the finish, which emphasizes that this cheese is made by a very small herd of sheep on a very small farm.

Grain: Sierra Nevada Bigfoot
Grape: Meyer’s Family Port

Some recipes take longer than others; this one lingered so long we started referring to it as "the beast." The goal was to deconstruct the Irish car bomb — that lovably irresponsible drink special that says "I throw caution to the wind like a Mick throws a Molotov cocktail in a bobby's face — and make it food. The gimmick was simple: take the three booze components of an Irish car bomb (whiskey, Guinness and Bailey's Irish cream) and put them all on one plate.

Our first attempt, brazen and cocky as it was, turned out god awful. We made a dessert grilled cheese sandwich of Irish aged cheddar topped with whiskey onion jam, Bailey's whipped Mascarpone cheese and Guinness reduction syrup. It was confusing and bitter and it rivaled our other top flop: the Double Bastard French onion soup.

But last weekend we gathered our confidence and tried again. We're proud to bring you our Irish Car Bomb Cakes: Guinness flapjacks served with a shot glass of Bailey's whipped cream and whisky maple syrup.

Whiskey Syrup

4 shots bourbon whiskey
2 cups Grade B maple syrup

1. In a small saucepan, bring the whiskey to high heat and let it reduce for about 2 minutes, then add maple syrup, stir and continue to heat until bubbly. Set aside.

Bailey's Whipped Cream

1 pint heavy whipping cream
4 oz. Bailey's Irish cream

1. In a large mixing bowl, add Bailey's slowly to cream and whip the shit out of them with a whisk for 10-15 minutes or until thoroughly airy.

Guinness Flapjacks

2 envelopes dry yeast
2 cups flour
1/2 cup, plus 1 tsp white sugar
1.5 teaspoon baking powder
1 tsp. salt
2 cups Guinness, room temp.
3 Tbs. warm vegan butter

1. Activate the yeast by mixing 1/8 cup warm water, a splash of beer, and one Tsp. of sugar in a small bowl. Stir, cover, and set aside for ten minutes.

2. Combine all dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Gently whisk in the Guinness and vegan butter.

3. Check your yeast. If it looks like a blob out of control, whisk it into the batter. Let the batter sit for ten minutes. Then heat a greased skillet and drop batter in 5-inch diameter portions. Flip once bubbles appear or side is dark brown, about 2-3 minutes.

Beverage: Harp
Soundtrack: The Pogues' Peace and Love

Though we had high hopes for this year’s St. Patrick’s Day — there were rumors of $2 Jameson shots at a bar downtown that opened at 6 a.m. and allowed entrance only to those dressed as leprechauns — we played it safe with brunch.

Naturally the morning started with two arthurs, a fridge of bevies and fierce plans to get full. First on the menu was a mean barley and white potato hash made with four leafy herbs from our garden. We sopped up the hearty mash with smoky red baked beans, which put to shame the gooey brown shite that the Brits sling, and smoked tomatoes and crispy bacon.

For afters we made a stout stack of Guinness flaps and topped them with hand-whipped Irish Cream and whisky syrup and proceeded to make arseways of our selves by tasting 3 different combinations of black and tans. Those recipes are forthcoming throughout the week. In the meantime, here are the brunch recipes. Be dog wide with these ones droogies.

Four-leaf Clover Hash Browns

10 white potatoes, cleaned
1 cup barley, cooked
1/4 cup fresh thyme
1/4 cup fresh oregano
1/4 cup fresh rosemary
1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley
4 cloves garlic
1/2 cup vegan butter
salt and pepper

1. First microwave or boil your potatoes until they’re about half done (about 3 minutes either way) and slice them in half. Once potatoes are cool enough grate them finely. Set aside.

2. In a large skillet, combine all four fresh herbs with the vegan butter, leaving a large pinch of each kind that you’ll add fresh toward the end. Cook until aromatic, about 3 minutes. Then add the half-cooked hash browns and one cup of cooked barley.

3. Stir thoroughly and cook for 20-30 minutes or until hash is fully cooked. (If needed, throw mixture in a non-stick pan for the duration of cooking as potatoes tend to stick). Before serving, season and toss with the remaining fresh green herbs.

Lucky Baked Beans

4 cloves garlic
4 green onions, chopped
2 cans baked beans
1 can roasted whole tomatoes
1 Tbs. ground pepper

1. We started with run-of-the-mill baked beans in a brown sauce (make sure they’re meatless) and doctored them up from there. In a small sauce pan, combine garlic and green onions in just enough vegan butter to cover the bottom of the pan. Let cook 5 minutes.

2. Then open the cans of beans and tomatoes and add them to the pan. Season the pot and let cook on medium heat for about 30 minutes. Serve

Smoked Tomato with crispy bacon

4 fake bacon strips
4 tomatoes
2 Tbs. smoked salt

1. Quarter the tomatoes and season the fleshy, seed side with smoked pepper.

2. Bring a pan to high heat with just a touch of olive oil. Cook tomatoes on their fleshy sides for about 5 minutes or until starting to black in places. Add more oil and fry bacon slices.

Beverage: Anderson Valley Oatmeal Stout
Soundtrack: The Fall Anthology Disc 3

A good Catholic son named Matthew wrote us last month asking for St. Patrick's Day recipes. Mathew — we haven't forsaken you, dude, we're still working on it. But just in case, come tomorrow, someone tries to pinch our weblog for a lack of green, we're digging up something from the archives: We call it Chippy Pie and it is good. But first some background…

If you couldn't tell, there's a long-standing racial/ working-class feud between Mexicans and Irish. It might have something to do with the fact that Mexican culture's amazing culinary tradition has also pissed out some of the shittiest beer in the world, while the Irish have given us stout beer but little to eat with it. In any case, to settle the fight once and for all, we bring you a combination of what's beautiful from both culinary traditions.

Chippy Pie

5 shallots, peeled
5 cloves garlic, peeled
2 Tbs. canola oil
1 tsp. cumin seeds
1 bottle Guinness Draught
20 corn tortillas
2 Tbs. unsalted butter
1/4 cup flour
3 cups white cheddar, shredded
3-4 cups canola oil for frying
1 tsp. salt
2 12 oz. cans black beans
1 cup cilantro
2 tomatoes
Limejuice

1. Roughly chop the garlic and shallots. Heat a large saucepan on medium heat. Add the shallots and garlic and toast dry for 2 minutes, stirring constantly to avoid burning. Add the 2 Tbs. oil and cumin, crank the heat to high and cook for 3 minutes. Now add the entire bottle of Guinness and cook on high heat until half of the liquid is reduced.

2. While you wait for the beer to reduce, drain the black beans and puree them in a food processor or blender. Set aside. Slice your tortillas into 1-inch strips.

3. Once beer is reduced, slice the butter into squares, coat with flour. Reduce the heat on your sauce to medium and whisk in the floured butter one square at a time. Now grab one cup of shredded cheese and whisk it into the black ooze. After all the cheese has melted, fold the beans into your sauce with a spatula. Remove from heat, set your oven to 400 degrees.

4. In a wok or frying pan, heat canola oil on high. Fry the tortilla strips in shifts, drying them on a bed of paper towels. Let each batch cool, then squeeze drops of fresh limejuice over them and salt to taste. Transfer them to a casserole dish. Then layer chips with a sprinkling of cheese — assuming you haven't snacked it to death — and tons of beer sauce.

5. Bake uncovered for 5-10 minutes. Serve with roughly chopped cilantro and finely chopped tomatoes.

Beverage: Guinness
Soundtrack: Anything by Jorge Ben.

The bottle of this one says it all: There’s the ice-capped mountains, amber waves of grain and pretty plains of Anderson Valley depicted in all their glory — and right there in the middle of this splendor, is Brother David with his sick, furry mustache and his favorite death-metal monk hood. (Brother David also looks suspiciously like the mid-90s cab-driving spokesman for MTV.) The point is this Abbey-style dark ale is unique in a way that takes some getting used to — it’s not how you might have made it, and it kinda sticks out — but it touches you nevertheless. Your first moments with this beer are filled with anxious puzzlement. The first note is heavy banana and clove, almost like a heffeweisen. But the sweetness sticks around, getting almost pruney and deliciously bread-like. The booze is there (it’s 9% ABV after all) but its balance is surprising. The carbonation is restrained which makes for a slow-dissolving head that froths around with a translucent sugar sheen. Like a geek in a Megadeth T-shirt who picks his nose and tries to wipe it on the seat of the bus, this Belgian is unpredictable and yet familiar. It’s a niche beer and it’s lovable. But like that same geek, you don’t necessarily wanna spend all night him. The Black Album gets old after a while.

Dairy Pairy: Beaufort de Savoie
Soundtrack: Animal Collective’s Feels

We at Hot Knives anticipate each one of Stone Brewery’s seasonal releases like a high schooler with a joint in their pocket anticipates the final minutes of algebra II. Just when we are getting over the bummer of the end the previous special release (we miss you already Double Bastard) a new conception of an old favorite hits the shelves. This review is late in coming, as the official release date for Stone’s 2007 Old Guardian Barley Wine was January 22nd, but you’ll be able to swill this beauty for another month…hopefully.

One more gush about our personal lords and saviors in Escondido before the homage d’brew. What makes Stone’s seasonals so fucking radical is that each year they make the same seasonal special releases, but they never taste the same. Yes Stone does make insane brews that deviate from the pre-ordained pageant of beauty like oak aged or dry hopped versions of their usual gang of five, or just something maniacal that never leaves Escondido, but you’ll never see this brewery crank out some silly concept beer that they’ll never make again and call it a special release. No “special” raspberry cappuccino porters, and certainly no “imperial” lagers or pilsners.

Old Guardian is a beer you can really hang out with on your porch. This year’s model, weighing in at 11.26%, requires some attentive time and a small glass. The flavor this year is much more pronounced than ’06, and the finish is long and joyous. The gargantuan malt and hop aromas meet in your mouth like some kind of epic battle between beer brute squads. The finish is surprisingly soft considering the initial intensity of the mash melee: strong notes of alcohol give way to vivid strawberry and mulling spice flavors.

We could drink this all year. We wish we could.

Dairy Pairy: Blues. French Blues (Roquefort, Blue D’Auvergne, Fourme D’Ambert etc.).
Soundtrack: The Make Up After Dark

This beloved finger food has largely been cursed to wander the halls of late-night Jack in the Box runs — an exodus not befitting anything so cute. We think hot peppers can be wonderful vehicles for snacks, though the Anaheim peppers of chile relleno fame are snooze-ville and Habaneros can hurt people, leaving only the Jalapeño.

So, for our latest addition to the “No Drive-Thru” haute vegan fast food menu, we veganized the Jalapeño popper. We roasted and deseeded them, stuffed them with an herbed vegan cream cheese concoction, dipped them in tempura batter and rolled them in panko crumbs. Once fried these peppies become scorching vegan cheese torpedos. Holla back y’all!

10 Jalapeño peppers
8 oz. vegan cream cheese
2 large sprigs of tarragon
1 bunch of chives
1/2 cup tempura batter
1/4 pale ale
1 cup panko breadcrumbs
2 cups canola oil

1. Roast two peppers at a time using your stovetop burner. Place your peppers directly over high heat, leaving them to sit 1-2 minutes at a time, rotating them as they blacken. Once blistering, dunk them in cold water and rub off black skin. Chop off their tops and make one long incision, pulling apart so you have one flat pepper skin. Carefully remove all seeds and set aside. Repeat.

2. Mix your cheese with chopped herbs. Using a small spoon put one large dollop on ach pepper and roll them shut.

3. In a large bowl add the beer to the tempura batter. Add more batter or beer as necessary to get a pancake batter consistency. Place bread crumbs on a deep plate and put a wok of canola oil on high heat.

4. Once oil is hot, dip the peppers in tempura making sure to shake off excess batter, then roll them in breadcrumbs. Immediately drop them in hot oil. Let fry for 3-4 minutes each or until golden brown on all sides.

5. Serve in a basket alongside some honey-mustard or homemade ketchup.

Short of waiting in a loser line at Olive Garden and pitifully gorging on “endless salad,” it’s pretty hard to get cheap, vegan Italian food. But if you’re armed with a few quality ingredients and some Mama Celeste know-how, the possibilities are endless.

Here is a recipe for bruschetta and one for spaghetti (that is half noodles and half slurpy zucchini) that both rely on the same basic sauce, all you really need is a decent olive oil and some basic groceries.

Garlic Oil Bro-shetta

1 head garlic, minced
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbs. red pepper flakes
2 tomatoes, finely diced
1/2 red onion, finely diced
1/4 cup chopped basil (or cilantro, parsley)
1 Tbs. aged balsamic vinegar
1 Tbs. sea salt
pinch of black pepper
Toast points

1. In a small saucepan, heat your garlic and oil on high. Once sputtering, immediately bring to a simmer so as not to burn or even brown the garlic. Let it roast for 10-15 minutes or until nutty. Add pepper flakes and remove from heat.

2. Combine all other ingredients in a mixing bowl and toss with hot garlic oil. Let mixture stand for another 20 minutes to fully marinate flavors.

3. Toast a couple pieces of bread and cut into diagnal toast points and serve.

Zukesghetti

2 zucchinis
A half pack of spaghetti
Bro-schetta topping
3 Tbs. nutritional yeast

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil and add your zucchinis. Let cook for about 8 minutes or until mildly soft. Remove and run under cool water.

2. While the zukes chill, bring another pot of salted water to boil and cook your pasta for another 8 minutes or until al dente.

3. While the spaghetti cooks, slice your zucchinis into super thin strips, as close to spaghetti noodle-shaped as possible so as to contrast the textures of the two. When pasta is done, strain and immediately toss with both zucchini and the brushatta topping. Serve with a sprinkle of nutritional yeast to replace the Parmesan.

Beverage: Sara Organic Buckwheat Ale
Soundtrack: Sparks’ In Outer Space

If bashing the preeminent Oregon microbrewery weren’t enough to show we’re staying true to our roots, here’s some more L.A.-based content to put on your knife and smoke.

We were asked to put together a Top Ten List of vegan fast food dishes for www.losanjealous.com and we obliged them by eating a lot and writing about it. Imagine that. Seriously though, if you’re reading this in Los Angeles, you’re about to gain 10 pounds (unless you already know these places like the back of your fatty hand). If you’re reading this in Portland or anywhere in between, you have a guidebook — for the next time you visit — that beats the shit out of Lonely Planet.

As a wise man once said, “When in Rogue, do as the Rogue do.” This is old proverb speak for “Northwest breweries should stick with the badass bitter beers they are known for.” Just look at Rogue Breweries’ OG flagship brews Shakespeare Stout, Brutal Bitter and Old Crustacean, all of them harsh, complex and consistently on point. But with their newest concoction, Monk Madness, the preeminent Oregon tastemakers at Rogue have continued to stray from their roots to unimpressive results. Right now, every American brewer and his mother seems to think it’s his right, or obligation, to try his hand at a Belgian-style ale. The results can be disastrous for one simple reason: Belgian ales, even the strongest of the bunch, have a subtlety and traditional pureness to them that the American ruffian brewer can’t recreate. Rogue’s tribute to the Belgian ale, for instance, hinges on five varieties of malts and five different hops — an ambitious recipe on paper that damn well goes too far. The deep velour and rippley brown color is off-putting, the sour bite of it is upsetting. Everything about the burnt caramel hop flavor and slightly hopped-up, nutty booziness screams identity crises, like an American playboy vacationing in an ancient monastery but without the basic decency to learn Flemish. The fact is, Rogue’s ever expanding list of beers seems more and more like an excursion from what they are known for, and what they do best.

Dairy Pairy: Smoked Gouda
Soundtrack: The Dandy Warhols’ Come Down

It was one of those perfectly self-indulgent Los Angeles media moments: We were prepping fresh chevre and basil at the end of a long row of cooking stations for the Grilled Cheese Invitational while a graduate student in broadcast journalism followed our every butter burn and sandwich flip with his handheld camera.

“Do you guys feel pumped?” he asked at one point sticking a clip-on microphone on one of our aprons. “What if you don’t manage to sweep the dessert category?” he said, pinching a sore spot (it was the one category we had failed to place in the year before).

As it turns out, we didn’t. It also turns out we didn’t mind. The 4th 2nd Annual Grilled Cheese Invitational was a massive success and a shit ton of fun. It was the year the event was so fawned over that the promoters refused to announce the address, and 500 cheese addicts still showed up at the Union Pacific Railway-adjacent warehouse space on the edge of Downtown Los Angeles. It was also the year they added a new top honor dubbed the “Judges Award.”

Two panelists in lab coats circled the tables trying every one of the 50-60 sandwiches. In the end our two savory sandwiches won us the Judges Award distinction, though our dessert sammy got criminally passed over. Our journalism student buddy got his perfect closing scene though: us on stage accepting our trophy and cursing the cheese heads for being afraid of gooey goat and veiny blue stiltons.

All in all, a great contest. So, while we wait for this Geraldo of Cheese to send us his final documentary on the nights’ events, we submit to you vegans (sorry dudes!) and cheegans a whiff of our competing recipes this year.

The photos come courtesy of our friend Michele whose own report on the Invitational is even more Oscar-winning.

Recipes

The Italian Stallion

4 slices potato bread
2 Tbs. butter
4 Tbs. hard-aged Pecorino cheese
4 oz. Taleggio cheese

1. Prepare your cheeses once up to room temperature, grating the Pecorino into a fine dusting and slicing the Taleggio into 1-inch slabs. Place the Taleggio onto a slice of bread until the surface is entirely covered and top with the other slice.

2. Now crank your large skillet to high heat and once hot toss in a pad of butter, swirling it around the pan. Then dust the grated Pecorino around the buttered pan to create a cheese crust and immediately set your prepared sandwich in the pan.

3. Use a heavy saucepan to press the sandwich down. Let grill for 1-2 minutes or until golden brown. Flip sammy and repeat cheese and butter crusting method. Once Taleggio is oozing remove from het, slice in half and eat.

Pepper Jacked

2 Tbs. Szechuan, Telicherry, and white pepper
1/4 cup water
1/4 sugar
4 slices Brioche or Texas Toast
2 Tbs. butter
4 oz. Monterey Jack
4 oz. hard-aged Jack
1/2 cup roasted green chile

1. Prepare a pepper syrup by combining pepper, water and sugar in a small saucepan on medium heat. Once sugar dissolves and mixture turns light brown, remove and let cool for an hour.

2. Once syrup has chilled out, assembles sandwiches. Grate your cheeses and combine with green chilis. Plop a huge handful of cheese and chili on the bread.

3. Butter the pan and cook sandwich on high heat. Use pressing method above. Flip and repeat. Once slightly browned on each side, glaze with pepper syrup and let cook 1 minute without the saucepan press. Serve and eat.

Strawberry Shortcake

4 Tbs. butter
1 cup sugar
1 basket of strawberries
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 slices “English Muffin Bread”
1 Tbs. Butter
4 oz. fresh chevre
1 cup fresh basil
4 oz. Mascarpone cheese

1. Prepare the strawberry-balsamic jam: Thinly slice the strawberries and add butter and strawberries (save 2 for garnish) to a large pan on medium heat. Toss for 1-2 minutes before adding sugar and vinegar. Let it cook down for 10 minutes or until strawberries break down. Taste and add sugar accordingly.

2. If needed, make a slurry (with 1 Tbs. corn starch and 2 Tbs. water) and add in drips to thicken the jam. Finish with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, remove and cool.

3. Once jam is ready, prepare sandwich by cutting the chevre into thin circles using dental floss rather than a knife. Stack chevre on bread slice, top with jam and add top piece of bread.

4. Butter your pan, add sandwich and use pressing method above. Flip and repeat. Remove once golden brown and cut in half. Slather the slices with Mascarpone like cake frosting. Top with thinly chiffonaded basil and sliced strawberries.

Dear dutiful readers and new duders,

We are moving; this is our new home. In fact, as we write this we’re packing our cyber bags, hitting the information superhighway that connects Los Angeles to the Northwest and praying we make it through the Grant’s Pass of image uploading. We’re excited to feed Urban Honking (not to mention escape the blunt blade of wordpress for the sharp ass 10-inch of movable type blogging stylez).

If you don’t know us… We’ve been cranking out our own version of high-class low-cost veggie/vegan recipes, beer reviews and all manners of kitchen ephemera for more than a year now. It all started with a mac ‘n’ cheese recipe published in black and white newsprint and now here we are knee deep in beet-vinaigrette injections captured in real time.

There’s loose ends to tie up and plenty of prepping to do — there’ve been a number of projects on the backburner for some time now — but within the week we expect to be saucing and plating at full bore. Expect a full report on the recent Grilled Cheese Invitational, a slew of beer and cheese pairings, vegan fast food haute cuisine and helpful knife tips.

Peas and carrots,
Alex & Evan