#64. Kvass: Kvass is Russian for “leaven” and is a 16th century beer-like beverage made with grains - wheat, rye, barley, etc - or dark rye bread, and often has additions of sugars, birch sap, berries, fruits; the process is akin to ancient beer brewing. It’s basically a fermentation of what’s around with a simple bakers yeast. It’s low in alcohol and often flavored with herbs or fruits to knock the bitter edge out. 

A national drink for Russia, but also found throughout Eastern Europe.

Entry: Ochakovskiy Kvass (2%ABV, Russian Federation)
So, my friend Sasha (whose parents were born in Russia, if I’m not mistaken) told me that kvass isn’t really beer, and his dad will have it in the morning. And on one hand, that may be a hilarious drunken Russian stereotype, but now that I’m drinking this, I really can’t tell if there’s alcohol in it at all. Like, I understand this is a low-alcohol thing but….I have no idea what’s in here. I can’t even read the label. I bought this thing at the super-legit Moscow Deli in Costa Mesa, and that place doesn’t really bother with translations. Diana, maybe you can help me out?

Anyway, I was wary to try this, as I had no idea what to expect, and I was bracing for something super weird. It pours/looks just like soda. OK. So far, normal. The smell is like some manner of rye bread cola with a dash of dark fruit/raisins. Again, not a combination I’ve come up against in my beverage-ing, but both bread and raisins are common enough in beer. The taste is like a thin, raisin soda, but pretty sweet. I’ve definitely never tasted something like it, but it’s not unpleasant in any way. I’m not sure if the sweetness is sugar, or the birch sap that blurb mentions. I’ve never had birch sap, but this thing DOES have a sort of molasses-like quality to it, so I suppose birch sap wouldn’t be that far off. And that’s kind of the whole package. Raisin/molasses and flat soda. Which may or may not have alcohol in it. I’ve finished this pint and don’t feel buzzed in any way, but at a rumored 2% that’s a little under half a normal beer, so that’s not terribly surprising. It IS pretty refreshing, though. Next time I get a big-ass sandwich at Moscow Deli, I’ll have to grab one of these to wash it down with. 

#63b. Irish Red Ale

Entry: Moylan’s Danny’s Irish Style Red Ale (6.5%ABV, California)
Again, I’m not entirely sure I trust an Irish beer made in California, but it’s rated fairly decently, so here we go.

Unlike the Smithwick’s, this thing’s maltiness isn’t a lovely roast toffee sweetness, it’s a coffee stout-ness followed up by….pennies? I dunno. A definite kind of metallic tang that is not exactly pleasant. Not that I really find the coffee taste pleasant, either, but I suppose I’d drink coffee before I sucked some pennies. Unless I got to then keep the pennies. Because that shit adds up. Anyway, I can tell why this one is a little higher-rated than the Smithwick’s, as the flavor is a tad more assertive (and the 2% higher alcohol content doesn’t hurt, either), but for my money, I’m going to drink the unobtrusive, more-authentically-Irish ale every time. 

#63a. Irish Red Ale: A bit sweet, with a lightly hopped tea-like flavor, and an even dextrinous body, Irish Red Ales are easy to please. Look for well-rounded and blanced flavors, and a pleasant toasted malt character in many examples. A drying finish is common.

Entry: Smithwick’s (4.5%ABV, Ireland)
I have drank a lot of these in my time. Mostly because it was the best beer they had on-tap at the old Irish bar I did pub trivia at. It’s still my #2 beer on untappd, only losing to PBR (I have an image to uphold, after all). And, just as a funfact in case you didn’t know, it’s pronounced “Smitticks,” so your Irish bartender doesn’t think you’re some type of protestant motherfucker.

As that description points out, this beer is “easy to please.” Very little bitterness, a little bit sweet. Just straight-ahead pub beer. I’m not sure I would have come to the tea flavor description on my own, but sure enough, it’s in there. Granted, a mild flavor of sweet, toffee-kinda malt is the majority, but it definitely fades into a blunt, tea-like tingle. But, this thing is pretty globally inoffensive. It’s the kind of thing I imagine Budweiser is shooting for: easy to drink, fairly light, no “unpleasant” bitterness or strong flavors. Except this thing’s flavor, mild as it may be, is pleasant. Bud’s obviously is not. This is something you could easily toss down a few pints of. Sadly I just have this one 12oz bottle. Still. A totally innocuous, relaxing beer to enjoy while watching Porco Rosso in my boxer-briefs after a pretty rough day. 

Learn-to-Cook Project: Pasta with Garlic and Oil

This is the first recipe in the pasta chapter, so it’s pretty basic, but goddamn….what’s better than garlic? Garlic and chilies and salt in a pan with olive oil making my apartment smell delicious, then throwing that on some simple pasta for a tasty, filling dish. If I had any qualms about this, it was the addition of the chopped parsley. Not that my body doesn’t need the leafy greens/fiber, especially in this sea of carbs and oil, but the 1/2 cup the recipe calls for seems excessive. Next time, less, and more minced than chopped. Also, keep an eye on my garlic more so it doesn’t get so crispy. It wasn’t burned and didn’t negatively affect the dish, but it isn’t the way I’d prefer it for an optimal meal. Still. Simple and delicious. Had to practice my pastas.

#62. Gose: An old German beer style from Leipzig, Gose is an unfiltered wheat beer made with 50-60% malted wheat, which creates a cloudy yellow color and provides a refreshing crispness and twang. A Gose will have a low hop bitterness and a complementary dryness and spice from the use of ground coriander seeds and a sharpness from the addition of salt. Like Berliner Weisse beers, a Gose will sometimes be laced with various flavored and colored syrups. This is to balance out the addition of lactic acid that is added to the boil. 

Somewhat recently, Gose has seen a mini-revival with a handful of breweries bringing back the style in the Leipziger area and pubs like Gosenschenke “Ohne Bedenken” serving traditionally brewed Gose.

Entry: Bruery’s Salt of the Earth (5%ABV, CA)
We’re taking a jump back into German beers because I was able to track down an example of the gose style (which is a bit of a novelty/experiment in the beer world, it seems). And I get that. This is a weird beer. As described, it is a pale, hazy straw color.  The aroma is….the barest hint of lemon. And on first sip, this almost comes across as a sour ale. It has a champagne dryness with the mildest funk. But right as you expect that vinegar-y tang to come in, this thing dips down into a mild, blunt saltiness. Adding salt is apparently common to the style, and this beer makes the whole thing ~*extra classy*~ by using truffle salt. This beer also has coriander in it (reasonable for a German wheat style), but I’m not tasting it here. This beer has been aging for at least a year (I got a bottle when the Bruery re-released some old bottles for their fourth anniversary), perhaps in that year the citrus/coriander has been muted in favor of the earthy saltiness. But I also get why this was a one-time-only beer. It’s not unpleasant, but it definitely feels like an acquired taste. This bottle has at least two more stange glasses left in it, so I suppose I have time to acquire it yet. 

Learn-to-Cook Project: Sesame-fried Eggplant

Not only did I manage to pan-fry something without burning my apartment down or disfiguring myself, I really nailed this. Sesame/soy sauce/lemon eggplant? That’s a bunch of great tastes that taste great together.

Today I learned the importance of salting vegetables. By pre-salting the eggplant, allowing the moisture to be drawn out, the pan-fried eggplant was more crisp. And not a single soggy eggplant was fried that day.

This version was not vegan, but I suspect that it could be easily made vegan by using an egg substitute. The eggplant gets dredged in flour, than egg, then the sesame/panko mixture. I would assume a vegan egg substitute would be just as effective a “glue” as real eggs.

You guys. I’m so incredibly happy how this turned out. It was a lot of prep, but it tastes great. Ideally, it’s a bit more uniform golden-brown, and there’s no darker areas, but I’m totally willing to give myself an A- here. There’s a couple extra cutlets if you want them. I probably shouldn’t eat a plate of pan-fried anything. 

Learn-to-Cook Project: Parmesan and chive shirred eggs

OK. I have officially made myself a breakfast that required the use of a porcelain ramekin. I feel like that’s another step towards being a full-on hedonismbot.

And it was a wonderful success. Shirred (baked) eggs are 100% new to me, and the use of cream and parmesan cheese with chives made the whole thing smell and taste delicious. Scrambled eggs are for homeless people. Shirred eggs for life.

#61b. Irish Dry Stout

Entry: Moylan’s Dragoon’s Dry Irish Stout (5%ABV, California)
I don’t really trust this one. A Californian company trying to pass itself off as an Irish beer. All the Celtic knot iconography and such. Dastardly. And once I pour it, from the start I’m not sure I can differentiate between this and a regular old stout. From the start, the head is less creamy than the Murphy’s, and more of a tan/brown color. The beer isn’t half as creamy. Same level of thin drinkability, though. And while the Murphy’s had that roast barley taste, this one is kind of….stale roast coffee. Still fairly unremarkable, but I think I’m going to side with that Murphy’s for being a more enjoyable drink and not being in a weird “cultural appropriation” grey area. I can’t see myself ordering either of these beers on a non-St. Patrick’s Day occasion, but I can cross ‘em off the list now. 

#61a. Irish Dry Stout: One of the most common stouts, Dry Irish Stout tend to have light-ish bodies to keep them on the highly drinkable side. They’re usually a lower carbonation brew and served on a nitro system for that creamy, masking effect. Bitterness comes from both roasted barley and a generous dose of hops, though the roasted character will be more noticeable. Examples of the style are, of course, the big three, Murphy’s, Beamish, and Guinness, however there are many American brewed Dry Stouts that are comparable, if not better.

Entry: Murphy’s Irish Stout (4%ABV, Ireland)
This is the absolute dictionary definition of an Irish Dry Stout.  After the head settles, the body is near-black with a dense, creamy head (that picture is dead-on accurate). Incredibly creamy to an almost milkshake-like consistency (though still somewhat light). That lightness combined with the low alcohol content makes for something you can throw back several pints of at your local. Flavorful roasted barley taste (not really coffee, more just a burnt/chocolate-y taste). But, at the same time, this doesn’t really pop for me. It’s a utility workingman’s beer. It’s inexpensive and inoffensive, but there’s nothing here that makes it stand out. It’s a perfectly serviceable stout, but there are definitely better choices. But, for an authentic Irish beer, this will definitely do ya.  

Learn-to-Cook Project: Glazed carrot, tequila, garlic, lime soup

This was made, in part, thanks to my brand new blender. Thank you, blender, for allowing me to liquefy former solids. States of matter mean nothing to us! We are like gods!

I’m surprised how much lime flavor this soup retained. I was worried that when I added the vegetable stock, it’s salty flavor would overpower the tequila-lime glaze I had put on the carrots. But, the lime’s still there. The tequila less so, but…you know…I got the rest of the bottle if I want it. Next time, I’ll probably add a little more sugar to make a better glaze.