THE BEER BEAT: We always cook with beer. Sometimes, we even add it to the food.

MilkWood/NABC, 2014.

As regards drink, I can only say that in Dublin during the Depression when I was growing up, drunkenness was not regarded as a social disgrace. To get enough to eat was regarded as an achievement. To get drunk was a victory.
-- Brendan Behan

Welcome to this evening’s standout beer dinner here at Ye Olde Tollbridge Inn, featuring four courses by Chef Fill-in-the-Blank and some great beers from Anonymous Brewing and its superlative brewmaster, Chilly Haze.

My name is Roger, and I’ll be your guide for the evening. Some of you may remember me as the co-owner and beer guy at New Albanian Brewing Company, where I worked for more than 25 years.

It was great fun, and I’m proud of the role we played in the metro Louisville beer revolution. On widely scattered occasions, I even received a paycheck.

But what have I done for you lately?

Admittedly not much, although I’d suggest that for a contrarian like me, whenever the revolution’s been won, it’s time to get to work on the next insurrection. After all, there’s always a bit of tweaking to do.

These days I’ve happily picked up where I left off so long ago, as an ordinary guy who enjoys eating, drinking, conversing and enjoying life with folks who feel the same, preferably in a watering hole or an eatery that got the damn memo and does it right.

That’s because pubs are my preferred natural habitat. They’re the only places outside of my own home where I’ve ever truly felt comfortable. Much of what I know, I’ve learned at a bar --  or behind it.

At the Irish Rover, Louisville’s finest Irish pub, it’s always been said that the pub is a poor man’s university, and I couldn’t agree more. Pubs are about more than just beefsteak and porter. They’re about camaraderie and communion, too.

There’s something to the idea of lower-case communion: sharing, fellowship and rapport. Upper case "Communion" used to play its role, too; it’s no accident that brewers of old referred to yeast as “Godisgood,” or that prayers were said in the vicinity of the brewhouse. After all, we always were expected to say grace before eating, and if beer is liquid bread, it’s just as much a spiritual matter as lamb chops.

Perhaps it’s easier for an atheist like me to say these irreverent things, although in all seriousness, spirituality need not rest on a religious foundation. Any way you approach it, the feeling engendered by communion isn't quantifiable.

Neither a photo can summarize it, nor the words I’m saying to you now. It’s the feeling of satisfaction and connectivity that comes from glimpsing a slice of what’s lasting and eternal, if only for the moment.

Consequently, what I’ve been doing lately is getting comfortable with my older, battle-tested self. The end looms closer than the beginning, and I’m learning that essences, intimacies and old friends matter more than glitter, profligacy and murder by lists.

Aristotle, noted among the agora’s habitués for his discerning wine consumption, once observed: “With regard to excellence, it is not enough to know, but we must try to have and use it," and ultimately, beer is of little use unless we’re able to drink it.

How very true – and at the same time, oddly challenging. We’re in danger of being buried alive by a cornucopia of beer ... blinded by the kaleidoscope ... paralyzed at the tsunami's approach. Choices are a blessing, as well as a curse.

Back in 1990 when I started working at Sportstime Pizza, before Rich O’s Public House even existed, there were 284 breweries in the whole of the United States. Today there are more than 6,000.

Combined with those breweries outside America from which so many beers are imported, there might be as many as 50,000 different beers available at any given time throughout the nation, whether packaged or pouring from taps.

If I started now and drank six different beers per day until I’ve tried them all, it would take roughly 22 years – assuming the selection stayed the same, and conceding that by the year 2040 or so, some of them wouldn’t be very fresh, including me.

I’d be 80 by then, and my liver?

About 145.

It is said that another of the Greek philosophers, Diogenes, walked the streets in broad daylight carrying a lamp, hoping to find an honest man. 2,300 years later, a British beer hunter named Michael Jackson suggested that the search for the perfect pint should last a lifetime.

For me, being a beer lover in our current age is equal parts homage to Diogenes and Jackson. It is a search for truth in a time of staggering plenty (pun intended), when so very many choices are available that almost nothing of lasting value occurs as a result of the experience.

Three decades ago when I first started hanging out with homebrewers, the ultimate destination was far less complicated. Options in the marketplace were limited, and often non-existent, so we thought in terms of the everyday: could we make a nice dry stout, or a pale ale that tasted like Bass? If so, we’d be perfectly happy.

It sounds laughable now, but who’s to say the perfect pint couldn’t be an ale tracing its descent to Burton-on-Trent, consumed on the ideal night in a clean and well lighted place with your best friends and curry – maybe goulash, BBQ ribs or a Po Boy sandwich?

Which brings me back to your meal and beers tonight.

What you’ll be experiencing tonight is something exceedingly rare in the current time, so oddly offbeat as to be a counter-revolutionary act. Your meal tonight and those drinks accompanying it are not being crowd-sourced. Ratings have not been consulted, polls have not been taken, and not a single selfie was harmed in the preparation of this feast.

Rather, the bill of fare was selected because in the experience and intuition of Chef Fill-in-the-Blank and Anonymous Brewing, it was felt these dishes and beers belong alongside each other.

In short, your choice in this is rather limited. You’ve agreed to be a student, and to allow us to explain a bit about what you’re eating and drinking, and why we think it matters.

Tonight, if only for two hours, the wheel stops spinning. The range shrinks, as instead of tagging them all, we'll contemplate just a few. There’ll be no test, and yet we’d dearly love for you to leave here tonight sated, pleased, and having learned something you didn’t previously know.

Moreover, we hope the courses and their chosen beers tasted good to you. Notice I didn’t use the words “paired well.” This is a conscious choice, because my New Year’s resolution for 2018 is to refrain from pretentiousness whenever possible.

Throughout the evening, I’ll be briefly interrupting the communion – I mean the beer dinner – to share a few thoughts about what you’re eating and drinking.

Finally, know that expertise isn’t required of you. You don’t have to be a star to be in this show, because hungry and thirsty is enough for us all. You needn’t identify as a geek, aficionado, snob, connoisseur or enthusiast – just someone who likes beer, and enjoys trying something different every now and then.

Maybe you appreciate a bit of history and geography thrown into the chat for good measure, and if so, I’ll be doing some of that.

All are welcome, and welcome to all.

Enjoy your meal -- and keep searching for that perfect pint.

THE BEER BEAT: Sunday sermonizing about the arduous path to pints, and union.

“Roger, get a life.”

The electronic notification arrived intact, but before I could reply to the tweet, my critic already had scurried away and deleted it. That’s too bad, because Noel Gallagher’s lyrical retort was ready and waiting, as taken from “The Importance of Being Idle,” a song he wrote and performed with Oasis.

“Give me a minute; a man’s got a limit. I can’t get a life if my heart’s not in it.”

In keeping with Noel's intent, it’s a facetious comment on my part. I have a rich assortment of lives, and my heart’s invested in each one of them. To be sure, the past sixteen months have been emotionally rough, as they’d be for anyone fellow losing his mom, a close friend and too damned many others. Mortality has been tangible, and the many ghosts that haunt me quite demanding.

There have been too many scripts filled with elegies, but memories remain, and at some point the mourning must end. So it will. All in all, the two of us have plenty enough, and I try not to lose sight of so many others who don’t.

I’m looking forward to a fresh start in 2018. I've proven myself adept at going away, and so the time has arrived to come back.

During my previous career in beer, now stirring again after the chosen hibernation, I attended so many (and varied) beer dinners that it’s necessary to loosen the belt two notches just to make room for the cumulative mental reckoning.

Some beer dinners took on the aura of a nobleman’s table-sagging banquets, during which I shared the dais with Falstaff (the model trencherman, not the inferior old-school adjunct lager).

We smashed together immense tankards of ale as platters of roasted beasts circulated through the vast hall, and tuneless karaoke broke out somewhere in the vicinity of the hallway to the urinals.

In short, the “fill ‘em up and send ‘em off approach.”

Other beer dinners were of a more modest and intimate nature, calibrated and careful, with judicious portions of both food and beer, served in the right way, on the right dishes and in the right glass, with attendees enjoying detailed conversation against a backdrop of acoustic folk, chamber music or maybe just the busy crickets during a midsummer’s night.

Or, the extended pinkie stratagem, also completely to my taste.

Most beer dinners I’ve attended probably fell somewhere between these two extremes, and of course, there is no definitive answer as to which format is the best. Whatever the size and scale, I’ve always sought to clean my plate of whichever edibles were being featured, and to drain those drams.

Last Monday evening, several of us attended a beer dinner at La Chasse in Louisville. As I feel compelled to constantly remind readers, La Chasse is owned and managed by Isaac Fox, who cut his teeth in the New Albany ten years ago at the late, lamented Bistro New Albany – among other establishments.

(As an aside, BNA’s Dave Clancy currently runs the kitchen at H. M. Franks, the O’Shea’s pub on Spring Street in Jeffersonville, but that’s a different story for another day.)

Monday evening’s beers came from the extensive list maintained by Dauntless Distributing, the Louisville specialty wholesaler, which employs NABC alumni Richard Atnip and Kevin Lowber. Food and drink were excellent, and a beautiful evening was had by all.

This beer dinner was another reminder of what I miss about the beer business, although in fairness there is an accompanying tally of items I'd prefer to avoid experiencing ever again. In future endeavors, hopefully the high points will outnumber the headaches, although the devil resides in these details. It's all about having a design for life.

Toe, meet water.

It's time to limber up.

If there is any single recurring theme to my life, it's the certainty that the contrarian in me always comes around. Just give it a bit of time, a few books and a well-crafted traditional German lager beer.

During my time as a beer revolutionary, I often asked myself what would happen when the revolution began devouring itself -- and if this isn't a perfect analogy, the question might better be stated this way: What's to be done when the beer world gets crazy, and I can't make sense of it any longer?

Obviously, this is the juncture when one goes back to the mattresses and the basics ... the simple pleasures, the timeless virtues, and the bedrock foundations.

Consequently, having recently spotted a Kroger recipe for Beef Stroganoff in which the grocery chain excitedly advised Hefeweizen as the ideal accompaniment, my first of many New Year's resolutions has arrived.

No, nay, never -- no, nay, never no more -- will I say the words "pair(s) with" -- no never, no more.

Rather, the comment will be "tastes good with," which strikes me as far less pretentious.

This isn't intended as a tease, because there's a staggering amount of work yet to be done, and it isn't clear what my precise role will be apart from assembling a progressively old-school beer program, but you can follow Pints & Union on Facebook and observe the narrative as the pieces of a downtown New Albany pub come together.

In the coming weeks and months, there'll be more to say. Right now, it's a bit premature; I'm a cog in the machine, and grateful to have the opportunity to help a friend achieve his dream. We share a vision of simple beer pleasures, and now comes the implementation. Wish us luck, and stay tuned.

THE BEER BEAT: The La Chasse-Dauntless beer dinner menu is released, Porter versus Stout, and other beery odds and ends.

Let's begin with an updated second reminder of the Dauntless Distributing beer dinner coming to the acclaimed La Chasse restaurant in Louisville on Monday, December 11.

La Chasse is Isaac Fox's restaurant. New Albanian old-timers will remember Isaac from Bistro New Albany and Speakeasy.

The dinner at La Chasse will feature beers from Dauntless Distributing, which brings some of the planet's finest brands into Kentucky, as well as handling Louisville brewers Against the Grain, Monnik and Akasha. Two NABC alums work for Dauntless: Richard Atnip and Kevin Lowber.

Menu, beers and other relevant details have just appeared on Facebook, and I'd love to see a solid contingent of friends and fellow travelers in attendance. Aside from the beer angle, you owe it to yourself to have a meal at La Chasse, because it is a splendid table.

La Chasse Craft Beer Dinner (with Dauntless Distributing)
Date: Monday, Dec. 11th
Time: 7:00 PM
Cost: $70 Per Person*
Reservations: 502.822.3963

MENU:

First Course: Confit of Chicken with Bourbon barrel-aged smoked peppercorn hot sauce, bleu cheese aioli and chicken skin cracklings
➤ Paired with: Au Baron Cuvee des Jonquilles (Biere de Garde) ... France

Second Course: Brie Beer Cheese Bisque with pickled blackberries
➤ Paired with: Central State Rose (Rustic blonde ale with raspberries) ... Indiana

Third Course: Sautéed Prince Edward Island Mussels in limoncello Maitre d’Hotel butter and crispy pancetta
➤ Paired with: Anchorage Love Buzz Saison (Spiced ale aged in French pinot noir barrels) ... Alaska

Fourth Course: Porter Braised Short Ribs over white cheddar polenta with thyme roasted carrots
➤ Paired with: Nogne O Porter (Porter) ... Norway

Fifth Course: Honey and Ale Spiced Banana Cake with chocolate ganache
➤ Paired with: Kerkom Bink Bloesem (Belgian Ale brewed with pear syrup and honey) ... Belgium

Executive Chef Andrew Welenken
Chef de Cuisine Kristina Dyer

*Exclusive of Tax and Gratuity

Also in Louisville, there's be a third outpost of Against the Grain just yards away from Sunergos Coffee, Nord's Bakery and Zanzabar.

Against The Grain plans microbrewery, beer garden at 'Swiss Hall' property, by Chris Otts (WDRB-41)

Louisville craft brewery Against The Grain plans to turn the Swiss Hall property in the St. Joseph neighborhood into a microbrewery, beer garden and venue for events and concerts.

Against The Grain has the property at 719 Lynn Street under contract pending a rezoning, according to Sam Cruz, one of the partners in the brewery.

It would be the fast-growing brewery’s third location. Against The Grain plans to keep its brewery and smokehouse at Slugger Field and its production facility in Portland, Cruz said.

Far better AtG at Swiss Hall than Swill Hall.

It's been a while since I featured a rant by Steve Foolbody, so the time is right to compensate.

RANT(S): One Beer, One Whiskey, and One Can O’ Whoop-Ass (The Pour Fool)

Nutshell: Pick Your Battles, learn a bit about American Economics 101, research these corporate partners before you climb aboard the Crazy Train. Please. These endless, clueless, feckless cries of “Sell Out!” just waste time and are, frankly, embarrassing for those of us have a Clue and share this culture.

 ... Rant, The First: The news broke, earlier this week, that Avery Brewing of Boulder, Colorado, had taken on the big Spanish beverage maker, Mahou San Miguel, as a partner and people all over the Brewniverse started freaking out. The great Denver magazine, Westword, ran a post in their online edition entitled, “Does “Craft Beer” Definition Go Down the Drain With the Avery Brewing Sale?” ...

 ... I read response after response accusing Avery of selling out; calling Adam Avery a greedhead and a fascist (my favorite)and questioning his values, his manhood, his parentage, his penile girth, and his hat size, all because he brought in a PARTNER – not a buyer or a sugar daddy or a new ownership – to help his company grow. In choosing San Miguel, in fact, Avery showed his respect for his culture, by hooking up with a company which is NOT, unlike AB, trying daily to destroy or at least control the craft beer community.

TRY to get this straight: The ONLY corporate interest about which you need to have ANY worries as a buyer or partner of a craft brewery is Anheuser Busch, aka AB/InBev. PERIOD. They are the only corporation on the face of the planet which combines the toxic mix of the arrogance to truly believe that we don’t need and shouldn’t be allowed to have any choices available to us in beer with the arrogance and deep enough pockets to think that they can really, literally set about pursuing a strategy that will force all of us who drink craft beer back into being just peachy with a lifetime of mindlessly, soullessly swilling tepid, watery adjunct lagers and nothing else.

I've underlined the passage that best reflects my own point of view. What's yours?

We haven't had many chilly days this fall and early winter, but about a month ago stouts and porters started tasting good.

WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PORTER AND STOUT?, by Ron Pattinson (All About Beer Magazine)

“What’s the difference between a porter and a stout?”

Roasted barley. That’s the usual explanation of what separates porter and stout. Unfortunately that story is total bollocks. The true tale is more complicated, more confusing and much more fun.

Let’s go back to their childhood. Eighteenth-century London with its elegant squares, gin and the birth of industrial-scale brewing. Something that could only have happened in London. Pre-powered transport moving large quantities of beer overland was impractical and expensive. London was the only city in the world with the critical mass of beer drinkers to power an industrial brewing reactor.

The story of porter—the first style to span the world—is one of technology, innovation and taxation. And war ...

It's a wonderful history lesson, leading here.

 ... That’s why they often parti-gyled their stouts with porter. You can probably see where this is going. The recipes for porter and stout were, by definition, identical, as they were brewed together.

Porter disappeared completely from the British Isles in the early 1970s when Guinness discontinued their version. But only for a few years. A couple re-appeared in the late 1970s and since then the style has made a small comeback, with beers like Fullers London Porter leading the way.

The difference between porter and stout? All stouts are types of porter. But not all porters are stouts. Only the stronger ones.

Martyn Cornell quotes Pattinson's research and arrives at a similar conclusion.

The answer to the question: "What's the difference between a stout and a porter" is that originally a stout was simply a strong version of porter: today the difference is whatever you want it to be.

To me, it's another variation on Justice Potter Stewart's thoughts about hardcore pornography: "I know it when I taste it," with more of the roasted malt character in a Stout and less in a Porter. I reserve the right to be contrarian while fully acknowledging those like Pattinson and Cornell, who are far more learned than me.

Anyway, if this is to be one of those questions defying resolution, at least there's considerable entertainment value in repeated taste tests of each style in pursuit of a lasting definition.

In turn, this brings us to an evocative new term: "pastry stout."

Wait ... it's a compliment, right?

Boom in sugary pastry stouts shows craft industry forgetting what beer tastes like, by Josh Noel (Chicago Tribune)

 ... After six hours wandering the aisles of the Festival of Wood and Barrel-Aged Beer last weekend, I have concluded that craft beer is betraying itself. It is forgetting what beer should taste like.

Though FOBAB, held this year at the University of Illinois at Chicago Forum on Friday and Saturday, remains Chicago’s most essential beer festival, corners of it have become a showcase for beer that tastes more like dessert than beer. “Pastry stouts,” the industry calls them.

Among the 376 beers poured at FOBAB this year, about 50 were pastry stouts, the largest share of the largest category at FOBAB.

Five years ago, among 194 beers, a measly six could be counted as pastry stouts. Back then, breweries were far more likely to age imperial stout in whiskey barrels to show the character of the beer they’d brewed and the barrels they’d secured. Today, those same beers are overrun with coffee, vanilla beans, coconut, cinnamon, chiles and cacao nibs.

So very many cacao nibs.

At this year’s FOBAB, there was beer named for cake (Barrel-Aged German Chocolate Cake), beer named for milkshakes (Bourbon Barrel Aged Supershake), beer named for cookies (Bourbon Barrel Aged Gingerbread Imperial Stout) and beer that didn’t bother specifying its form of sugary decadence (Beer Geek Mid-Day Dessert). Lil Beaver Brewery, of Bloomington, Ill., poured a beer it described as boasting “enough cacao nibs and toasted coconut to make you think you’re drinking a candy bar” ...

On Monday evening I stopped by The Exchange in New Albany and noticed Founders Canadian Breakfast Stout on the board, priced right where I'd expect such a rare beer to be (circa $14 for a 10-oz pour).

The bartender mentioned its presence, and I told him the most selfless thing I could possibly do was leave CBC alone so others could experience it.

Instead, I ordered a full $6 pour of Left Hand Sawtooth Ale, identified by the brewery as an Amber, but tagged by some other beer geek observers as an Extra Special Bitter.

It was delicious. I made the right choice.

Let there be options.

THE BEER BEAT: Beer news overview, featuring our Bamberg correspondent; Pearl Street Taphouse's anniversary; and a Dauntless beer dinner at La Chasse.

Look at the head on that!

Kim Andersen is an evil man, taunting the terminally New Albany-bound (that's me) with this photo of delicious, freshly-poured Spezial Rauchbier, as snapped from his current vantage point in Bamberg, Germany.

However, it's the two folks in back that make this view wonderful, because for them, it's just a restorative mid-afternoon local pub stop.

While I'm at it, cheers to Matthias Trum and family. Kim informs me that he was drinking six-month-lagered Schlenkerla Urbock on Thursday evening. No photos of Schweinshaxe -- yet. But he's got plenty of time.

(I posted the preceding words at Facebook long before lunch on Friday, when it was mid-afternoon in Bamberg.)

Then I watched as the pub crawl proceeded, first to Greifenklau ...

 ... then Schlenkerla.

Instantaneous communications enables me to see the photos before Kim's done draining his glass. The beauty of it is that I've been to these places enough times to possess near-total sensory recall: to taste the beers, smell the food and feel the room. It's grin-inducing.

I'm very fortunate, indeed.

---

Closer to home -- or Jeffersonville, to be exact -- last December we were introduced to Pearl Street Taphouse.

THE BEER BEAT: The Pearl Street Taphouse in downtown Jeffersonville.

I'm delighted for Kelly and Teri that Pearl Street Taphouse (that's downtown Jeffersonville, folks, not downtown New Albany) has come out of the gate so strong. Now comes the long haul ... and best wishes for it. If all goes as planned, my inaugural visit to Pearl Street Taphouse will be on Wednesday during a projected pub crawl of Jeffersonville.

These days, I'm too infrequent a customer anywhere locally to merit status as a "regular" (no Stammtisch for me), though here of late we keep going back to Pearl Street Taphouse for a round whenever engaged in errands by car.

The default remains walking 10 minutes to downtown New Albany. Runner-up has become Pearl Street Taphouse, which will celebrate its first birthday beginning December 1.

Good beer options in Jeffersonville have grown exponentially. I adore the fact that Tony Revak (you know him from Buckhead's) is running the beer program at Parlour, and of course Flat12's taproom is just a short distance away. Still, I like the ambiance at Kelly's and Teri's place; it shouldn't come as any surprise that the size and scale remind me of the Public House of old.

Congratulations to them, and may the birthdays flow into the future.

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"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds," unless you're consistently branding a concept, in which case Big Four Burgers kept the same name even when the restaurant's second location opened in the New Albany building made famous by South Side Inn, miles from its namesake Jeffersonville bridge.

Then, when Matt McMahan's next food service idea germinated amid the vast expanse of the former South Side's kitchen, eventually giving birth to District 22 Pizzeria, the decision to take pizza and alcohol delivery to Jeffersonville will not result in the District 10 Pizzeria.

(22 and 10 are the county numbers for Floyd and Clark counties, respectively.)

Pizza, alcohol delivery concept District 22 is expanding, by Caitlin Bowling (Insider Louisville)

Roughly three months after opening the inaugural District 22, owner Matt McMahan said that he is expanding the pizza and alcohol delivery concept.

The first District 22 opened at 110 E. Main St. in New Albany in a space connected to McMahan’s casual dining burger restaurant Big Four Burgers + Beer. The two businesses share some staff and a kitchen.

Now, McMahan told Insider, he plans to do the same thing at the Big Four Burgers at 134 Spring St. in Jeffersonville.

“From Day One, I knew it was too much space,” McMahan said. “I’ve been wanting to do the District 22 for a long time.”

Although the concept is still young, he said that District 22 had done “decent numbers” since it opened, giving him the confidence to move forward with the Jeffersonville store.

“Sharing the space, sharing the utilities, sharing the kitchen, sharing the staff, it is literally a no-brainer,” McMahan said.

The ability to deliver alcohol, he said, has allowed District 22 to differentiate itself from the many other pizzerias in the area.

It's not just swill for home delivery, either.

---

Donum Dei will become the first brewery in our immediate vicinity to add a distillery, taking advantage of a trend toward statutory liberalization during recent years, as driven primarily by Indiana's Republicans (insert befuddled but appreciative emoticon here).

As accompaniment to Donum Dei's announcement, the Indy Star explains the boom in Hoosier "craft" distillation.

New Albany brewery to start making spirits, by Danielle Grady (That Jeffersonville Newspaper)

Rick Otey, a jovial, bearded figure, is already bursting with ideas now that his New Albany brewery, Donum Dei, has a license to distill spirits.

He hopes to start by crafting a beer brandy: a beer that has been distilled. Eventually, he wants to graduate to an all-grain moonshine, a vodka, whiskey and — finally — a gin, flavored with local botanicals.

On Wednesday, Donum Dei, located at 3211 Grant Line Road, became one of the few breweries in Indiana and the only one in Clark and Floyd counties, to also hold an artisan distiller’s permit. (Huber’s Orchard and Winery claims a distiller’s permit, but makes wine instead of beer).

It’s a goal that Otey and his co-owner/wife, Kim Otey, have been working toward ever since they opened their brewery to the public in 2015. At the time, breweries had to be in operation for three years before receiving their distiller’s permit. (Now, it’s 18 months).

---

In closing, there's a beer dinner coming on December 11 at La Chasse in Louisville.

I seldom mention events occurring across the wide expanse of water, over yonder in the big city, but as a reminder, the acclaimed La Chasse is Isaac Fox's restaurant. New Albanian old-timers will remember Isaac from Bistro New Albany and Speakeasy.

The dinner at La Chasse will feature beers from Dauntless Distributing, which brings some of the planet's finest brands into Kentucky, as well as handling Louisville brewers Against the Grain, Monnik and Akasha. Two NABC alums work for Dauntless: Richard Atnip and Kevin Lowber.

Details (menu, beers, price) have yet to be announced, but I'd love to see a good contingent of friends and fellow travelers in attendance. Aside from the beer angle, you owe it to yourself to have a meal at La Chasse.

There'll be no regrets.

NABC beer dinner at MilkWood tomorrow (April 17) or city council? You know the answer.

At the Potable Curmudgeon blog, I mentioned an NABC beer dinner at MilkWood. The menu is above, and the story link below. As of 4:00 p.m. on Wednesday, a few seats remain available. This one's looking epochal already, so consider skipping the city council meeting and joining the party.

Halfway to LCBW, all the way with NABC to MilkWood this Thursday.

Harvest dinner with NABC isn't just a pigfoot and a bottle of beer.

Once again, NABC is pairing with Harvest Restaurant in Louisville for a beer dinner, and Steve Coomes does a fine job of describing the thought process behind the pairings. Meat eaters should be particularly mindful of Chef Coby Ming's comment about "showing respect for the animal." To me, laying into a pork chop but being squeamish about the tongue makes no sense at all. There are compelling reasons not to eat meat, but if you do, then parts is parts.

Cheeks and tongue, feet and head ... bring them on, please. We have some very nice beers to match.

Hog callin’! Harvest hosting 4-course, ‘nose to tail’ New Albanian Brewing dinner April 9, by Steve Coomes (Insider Louisville)

Usually when chefs create special dinners paired with adult beverages, they have the menu in mind before they choose their liquid pairings.

The reverse happened recently when Harvest executive chef Coby Ming was planning such a meal, one she’d already decided would center on beer. Her food choices were a mystery until hog farmer Adam Barr came calling.

St. Valentine's Day At Bank Street Brewhouse: Food and wine and beer.

Chef Matt Weirich and the crew at Bank Street Brewhouse have created a Valentine's Day with plenty of options. You can build a three- or four-course fixed price menu; pair with Oliver wines or NABC beers; or pluck your own choices a la carte. Call 812-725-9585 for information, details and reservations.

For Louisville readers and those of the curmudgeonly bent, be aware that Garage Bar (700 E. Market Street) is pairing meals with rare NABC cask-conditioned ales for an Anti-Valentine's Day Cask Beer Dinner.

St. Valentine's Day At Bank Street
February 14, 2013

Starters

Lobster Bisque 8

Crab Cakes, served with Rouille and Remoulade 9

Grateful Greens Romaine, Garlic Croutons, Anchovies, Parmesan Reggiano 8

Brie en Croute – Brie wrapped in pastry with roasted apples and baked,
Served with Apple, Honey and Crostini 9

Suggested Pairing: Oliver Sauvignon Blanc or NABC Gold Blonde Ale

Entrees

Brown Butter Gnocchi with Roasted Vegetables and Parmesan Reggiano 14

Cocoa Rubbed Diver Scallops, Fingerling Potatoes, Haricot Vert,
Oyster Mushrooms, Vanilla Beurre Blanc 28

Suggested Pairing: Oliver Pinot Grigio or NABC Tunnel Vision Wallonian Ale

Wagyu Tri-Tip with Pommes Pavè, Roasted Asparagus,
Domestic Mushrooms with a Bourbon Au Poivre 24

Feilder Farms Pork Tenderloin with Potato Puree, Fig Chutney,
Asparagus, Fig Gastrique 22

Suggested Pairing: Oliver Cabernet Sauvignon or NABC Elector Imperial Red Ale

Cheese

Capriole Farms Tomme, Mont St. Francis and O’Banon 9

Suggested Pairing: Oliver Shiraz or NABC Black & Bluegrass Spiced Belgian Ale

Dessert

Beignet
Maple Crème Brulée
Bonfire of the Valkyries Chocolate Mousse
Chocolate Truffles and Macaroons
6

Suggested Pairing: Oliver Vidal Blanc Sparkling or NABC Solidarity Baltic Porter

Three Course Tasting paired with wine or Beer $38 Four Course 45$

It's a good thing I've managed to take off 12 pounds in January, because now there are going to be some challenges to the girth reduction regimen.

Earlier this week, there was an excellent beer dinner at Against the Grain; next week, the NABC/Varanese pairing as described here; and on Valentine's Day, another NABC venture with the Garage Bar.

I appreciate the shout-out from Steve Coomes at Insider Louisville, and it's fully justified considering the plain fact that Varanese is one of the top tables in Louisville. It's also no exaggeration that Chef John Varanese's approach to the beer dinner has been unconventional, which is a very good thing.

We tasted beers in the kitchen while stock was being prepared and chickens cut, rather than at the bar before opening when the aromas of food aren't wafting all around, providing inspiration for a meal. The price point for a menu of this caliber is superlative, at $49 (plus tax and gratuity). Follow the link for the full article, and plan on attending. This is going to be a good one.

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Beer ye, beer ye, NABC and Varanese pairing up for unique dinner for Feb. 7

By STEVE COOMES | Published: FEBRUARY 1, 2013

When contemplating the menu for an upcoming beer dinner at Varanese, chef-owner John Varanese took an unconventional approach by tasting the beer first and then crafting a menu around it.

And while that approach would make Homer Simpson proud, he said it just made the most sense.

John Varanese, chef and owner of Varanese.

“Beer’s food friendly anyway, so I knew that was a good place to start,” Varanese said.

ON THE AVENUES: Not to mention rack of lamb.

ON THE AVENUES: Not to mention rack of lamb.

A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.

Louisville’s Against the Grain brewpub staged a “swanky” beer dinner earlier this week. The occasion was a visit to Louisville by the gypsy brewers known to the world as To Øl, a pair of twenty-something homebrewing Danes gone commercial, and now making the most of their newfound stardom on a stateside tour.

Prior to the dinner, there was a “happy hour” and meet ‘n’ greet a few blocks over at the Louisville Beer Store, which featured To Øl’s beers and a chance to learn what makes them tick. Unlike NABC, To Øl has no brewery of its own. Rather, the beers are brewed at other existing European breweries with capacity to spare … or this week, in Louisville.

Part of the reason for To Øl’s visit was to brew a collaboration beer with Against the Grain, and it must be conceded that in doing so, Tobias and Tore found just the right hopster partners in creative beer-themed lunacy, the only difference being the customary experience of Danes speaking English better than most Americans. Apart from superb hosts, witty guests and their fine beers, I’ll always remember two aspects of the beer dinner.

First was Chef Reed Johnson’s commendable decision to go raw with a course of quail egg-topped steak tartare, served with sprouts, fried capers and pecerino, and paired with To Øl’s Snowball Saison, an example of “wild” ale with a funky, sour character.

“Yummers,” writ large.

The olfactory memories were immediate and compelling, because the dish reminded me of my good fortunate in being introduced to the concept of traditional Danish lunch many years ago by friends in Copenhagen.

“Lunch” in this usage is a refreshingly elastic concept meant for stretching one’s food and drink consumption from just after breakfast until almost closing time, featuring a steady succession of small plates, tapas-style, and mostly served raw: Herring, steak and eggs, with dense dark flatbread for stacking as well as acorn-sized capers and pungent onions for use as condiments.

Granted, sour ale in the Belgian style would not have been available to us back in those halcyon days, although we somehow made do with glasses of lager and beakers of akvavit (regional schnapps), all of them repeated until the last traveler’s check was gone. One time I spent roughly $300 for my share of such a repast, recalling almost nothing about it the next day.

I’ll never forget not remembering.

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Second, on Tuesday night I soon realized that my beer dinner’s glow was not exclusively derived from the sheer joy of ingesting raw meat and quaffing sour ale. In fact, it was almost uncomfortably warm outside following a 70-degree Kentuckiana shirtsleeves day in January, with high winds and even tornadoes expected overnight.

It seems that my memories of steak tartare and uncooked victuals are tied to cooler climes, and crisp evening sweater temperatures in places like Denmark and Finland, even during high summer. It’s a bit incongruent, but this being the Ohio Valley, one merely must wait patiently for a few hours to pass and the weather to turn upside down.

It’s now Thursday morning, and the mercury’s below freezing. I’ll be bundling for a restorative walk, and craving more food designed for colder weather. As I’ve noted in the past, whenever it isn’t a fit night out for man or beast, some dining options are inadequate in spite of their ready availability owing to the wonders of long-distance trucking.

Let’s face the facts: Salade Nicoise, gazpacho, watermelon and corn on the cob neither were meant to be consumed in winter, nor are calculated to warm one’s increasingly creaky bones. Waxen imitation veggies can do no more than offend. Rather, hearty soups, stews, goulash, cabbage rolls and casseroles form integral recipe files deep within the genetic code.

Foodstuffs like these arouse the slumbering distance of ancestors on the continental steppes and in the northern forest, those enduring and resourceful people who during winter reached for the pickled vegetables, delved into cellar for potatoes, beets and onions, and cracked open stocks of salted beef and fish.

This also is the point where the oenophile loses traction. Wine’s fine, the redder the better, but beer excels when it comes to winter’s fortification. It’s true that I’m an evolving apostle of session-strength (lower alcohol) beer styles, but when it’s cold outside and the ham and beans in the tureen are steaming, real beer matches the occasion -- beer that is cool, not cold; solid, not puny; and challenging, not simple.

Winter – assuming suntans are appropriately impossible – provides the most suitable conditions for sampling and studying the heavyweight classics that have come to us from Old World brewing cultures, and in turn are embraced and redefined by America’s innovative craft brewers ... and Europeans like To Øl.

Among these are multi-faceted imperial stouts, deeply affecting barley wines, potent Belgian Trappists and big, brawny German “double” bocks. Not only do these styles provide ample warming for bodies iced and chilled in the great outdoors, but they also stick to the food that sticks to your bones, when it matters most.

These needn’t necessarily boast double-digit alcohol contents. Doppelbock and Baltic Porter are in the 7%-8% range, ideal to wash down roasted pork and sauerkraut. Robust, jet-black Imperial Stout, once an English export beverage for markets in Russia and Scandinavian port cities, retains its roasty fruitiness in examples at 9% ABV. Forget the fridge and place your bottles and growlers in the basement, or by a cold wall, and begin thinking about the meals to come.

I’m swooning: Steak and kidney pudding, or Bavarian-style Schweinehaxe (pork knuckle with a crisply chewy rind). Smoked salmon and mackerel. Dilled potatoes with butter or sour cream. Pickled eggs and mushrooms as an opening appetizer course. Smelly cheeses and nuts afterward, with the sherry-like vintage Barleywine you’ve been saving, and cigars if permitted. Of course, a snifter of Kentucky bourbon never hurt, either.

Thanks to everyone who made Tuesday such an adventure.

A busy fest day in downtown New Albany on Saturday, September 22. Here's the overview with links.

On Saturday, September 22, there will be quite a lot happening on, or near, the 400 block of Bank Street in downtown New Albany. It's part Louisville Craft Beer Week event, and part civic. With bourbon, too.

Indie craft consciousness downtown on Saturday, September 22.

Let's tackle these events in approximate chronological order.

Updated plan for the Southern Indiana Craft Beer Showcase on Saturday, September 22.

New Albany First's 1st Annual Indie Fest is Saturday, September 22.

Menu and details for the Willett Bourbon Dinner at Bank Street Brewhouse on Saturday, September 22.

Harvest Restaurant and NABC: A collaborative beer dinner on Tuesday, April 17.

A poster and two menus later, and it should be clear that Harvest Restaurant and New Albanian Brewing Company are teaming for a beer dinner. It's Tuesday, April 17 at 6:30 p.m., and you can call 502-384-9090 for reservations. For further information about Harvest, visit the restaurant's web site, and know that in addition to the listings above, we'll be offering opening and parting glasses. I'm hoping to make one of them a true sneak preview of NABC Black & Blue Grass, which is being bottled earlier the same day.

A Grand Pairing, Part Two.

A Grand Pairing, Part Two.

By guest columnist Shane Campbell

Part One appeared yesterday. 

Shane is an Indiana native (from Pekin) who returned to the area a few years back after a career in the Air Force. We came to each other’s attention via the Louisville Restaurants Forum, and I’m happy to provide a venue for Shane's account of the Louis Le Français beer dinner on Thursday, March 1. 

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We now had bread and water and it was time for the first course.

“Real men don't eat quiche,” they say. Right; more for me, then. I can't be sure I've actually eaten quiche before. I can be sure that this was the best quiche I've ever eaten. It was warm and not surprisingly tasted like a rich fluffy omelet, but with a pleasing casserole-like texture. The beer paired with it was golden, bubbly, and mildly sweet. It reminded me of a Shandy, which is a lager with lemonade (soda). It was 7% abv but tasted much tamer. It complemented the Quiche Lorraine like orange juice does ham and eggs at breakfast. I would happily drink this beer all afternoon while sitting in the sunroom gazing lazily out at the garden.

Oy, I forgot. Sometime between my Hestian vision and the quiche, the party arrived to fill in the empty places at the table behind. I resent those people who always come in late. They do this at movies, plays, sporting events, and obviously scheduled dinners. These people missed all of Roger's and Tim's talk, but I doubt they minded. To such people, the world isn't really happening unless they are there to witness it. Therefore, they missed nothing. I shifted my seat to allow a couple of them to pass. I forgot them as soon as Tim came by to tell us about the Erwann Blonde (the beer, not the girl – she was noir). Tim moved off and Steve remarked that he recognized the nearest couple. He called out to the man who was sitting at my back, addressing him by name. The man looked surprised and seemed only to pretend to recognize Steve, but his wife did remember even asking about Steve's daughter. I leaned to the side as they caught up across the table. They quickly left off when the seafood course arrived.

An overlarge bowl of smooth white porcelain was set before me and I began to visually survey the contents of the mixed seafood stew in beer sauce (Tafel reduction). The seafood consisted of maybe a dozen denuded shellfish scattered about the bowl, including pinkish veined shrimp, glistening pearl scallops, and plumpish red mussels peaking out from a thin layer of yellowish viscous sauce. The table behind us suddenly launched into a loud discussion about -- pap smears. I don't know about you, but I never engage in gynecological anecdotes while eating shellfish! Poor form, I say.

“Do they have to speak about health issues while we're eating?” I complained a bit too loudly. The guy at the end of the table looked up sharply. “Well, most of them are doctors,” Steve shrugged and tucked in with gusto.

The seafood course was served with NABC's Tafel Bier. I've had Tafel a few times and found it to be a session strength beer with a malt forward character. I do prefer weak beers, I just prefer them to be bitter. When taken with this seafood, however the taste of this beer seemed enhanced. It now had more taste than I remembered and that taste went with the stew like sweet tea goes with cornmeal battered catfish. This pairing thing really works! Now I'm not saying for a minute that I wouldn't like this stew with a nice pint of bitter ale; I know I would. But it seemed I liked the Tafel with the right kind of food a lot more than I otherwise would!

This was borne out again with the main course. The previous Sunday I had watched the basketball game while sitting at the Bank Street bar. My favorite bitter was unavailable so I had a couple of pints of Runkel Dunkel dark lager. It was fine but it was not my preferred beer and I would only choose it when my preferred beer was not available. The Dunkel too seemed amped up and was the perfect accompaniment to the charcuterie course. This was the largest of the five courses and with it we were given an additional Biere de Garde by Tim. I found the Page 24 Biere de Printemps to be one of the most balanced beers in recent memory. It was sweet and bitter at the same time. It was my favorite beer of the evening. I don't really trust that opinion though as I had so little of it and that taken with food. This beer warrants further investigation.

The main course consisted of four pieces of pork arrayed on a plate of braised sauerkraut. Poking up from the middle of the kraut at a jaunty angle was half of a thumb-thick sausage link in a bright red casing. Scattered around the edges of the kraut was a slice of pale smoked ham, a large pork shank, and a thick slab of bacon.

The sausage filling was of a fine consistency (think knockwurst) and had a mild flavor. Its natural casing provided a satisfying snap when bitten. The ham was as good as any smoked ham I've had and was thankfully not as salty as most. It went wonderfully with the bright yellow mustard from the saucer on our table. While tender, the pork shank was not fall-off-the-bone and, well, tasted much like the ham to me. The bacon was something I had not previously experienced.

Steve and I had carried on a constant conversation of an entirely appropriate nature throughout the meal. Mostly, hmmmm … this is good … have you tried that yet? ... put some of that mustard on it … oh yes! … etc.

Then Steve said something quite discordant with the previous commentary. He said, “Is this rancid?”

What? I was sure I misunderstood. “I think it's rancid,” he said again and I saw he was pointing at the thick slab of bacon. I knew it was the bacon not because it looked like bacon; on the contrary, it did not look like bacon. Everything else however, looked like something on the menu. Therefore, this two inch thick slab, pale gray in color and looking like it had been left out in the rain to be chewed on by the dog for a couple of days must be the bacon.

“Smell it,” Steve said. Yeah, that smelled bad alright. It tasted off as well. I liken the smell to that of pork scraps in the garbage bin after a few days in the hot garage. Whew! Fortunately the smell was weak and only noticeable as you tasted it. The taste was not as offensive but had I not been in a fancy French restaurant with an economics professor for a dining companion I would have spat it back out. As it was, I chewed up a couple of tiny pieces and chased it down with expensive French beer. “I'm not eating that,” I said. “I'm not eating it either,” said Steve.

Just then Roger came up to our table.

He leaned back against the wall and smiled down at us. “So what did you think of the pork belly?” he asked.

“You mean the bacon,” I responded, pointing with my fork.

“Yes,” he said. “Louis purchased the pork belly and dry aged it himself. I really enjoyed it.”

We both looked up at him to see if he was kidding us. He appeared to be serious. I shook my head and said, “Yes, well I'm not eating it.” I believe Steve used the rancid word again.

Roger chortled with pleasure enjoying our discomfiture. After a minute, he went off to visit some other tables. I was sure he'd begin each conversation with “So, what did you think of the pork belly?”

We had two more courses. A green salad paired with a Jolly Pumpkin Witbier, which we surmised was to act as a palate cleanser. We were no sooner cleansed when dessert came.

It was a glazed apple tart. I didn't get much tart from this pastry but instead lots of custard in a delicate flaky crust . As I very much like custard, this was quite alright. The L'Hermitiere sparkling cider provided some tartness, and I was quite satisfied with this finale.

Our parting beer was a very nice espresso stout. Quite a strong one as stouts go at 7.5% abv, and very tasty. It turned out that this was not our last chance to imbibe the great miracle that is beer. Tim came around and refilled our glasses with what was left over from the service. I had as much of the Page 24 as he would give me. Then Creedence began to sing “Who'll stop the rain,” indicating that my phone was ringing and Donna had arrived to collect me.

Steve and I professed our enjoyment of one another's company and promised to see each other again (they always say they'll call, don't they?) Then I made for the door. Even with all of the courses and extra beer that Tim had given me, I felt no effects from the alcohol. It was nearly ten but the evening seemed young and while I was not overfull, I was sated for sure. Standing in the doorway waiting to bid me adieu was the fair skinned, dark-haired beauty -- La belle femme, half of our striking service combo for the evening. She asked me if I enjoyed my meal and I can't remember how I answered her. I felt a strong urge to hug her. As this would be most inappropriate, I think I must have been a little drunk after all. Sensing my hesitation, she held out her delicate hand. I shook it gently and then I was opening the car door with no recollection of exiting the restaurant or traversing the sidewalk to the car. “What was it like?” Donna asked.

To say that the Frenchman's Beer Dinner was simply like any one thing would be to describe Hamlet, Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No 2, and March Madness as an interesting story, a catchy tune, and a good game. Certainly true, but wholly inadequate.

Was this the best food I'd ever eaten? No. Was this the best beer I'd ever quaffed? Please!

What was it like then? A simple question it seems, but I've too much respect for the questioner and the experience to diminish either with such a simple answer. Some simple pairings however, might do.

To start with, it was like salted nuts and warm caramel, sizzling bacon and fresh brewed coffee, melting butter on sweet corn bread. Mix in a little beauty and beast, and add some savage-meets-savant. Wrap it up with husband and wife of 30 years giggling at each other all the way home in the car that night.

Yeah, it was like that.

A Grand Pairing, Part One.

A Grand Pairing, Part One.

By guest columnist Shane Campbell

Shane is an Indiana native (from Pekin) who returned to the area a few years back after a career in the Air Force. We came to each other’s attention via the Louisville Restaurants Forum, and I’m happy to provide a venue for Shane's account of the Louis Le Français beer dinner on Thursday, March 1. Part Two will appear tomorrow.

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The flyer said:

Door opens at 5:00 PM … Dinner at 7:00 PM

What does that mean, I wondered?

Will there be a two-hour social period where we will drink and talk excitedly about what we are about to experience? Never having been to Louis Le Francais or any other French restaurant for that matter, I was unsure of what to expect. My only certainty was that I would be going alone. Try as I might, I had been unable to find anyone willing to accompany me on this food and beer adventure.

I wouldn't be sitting alone though. When I'd called the day before the dinner (half hoping they would be booked) I admitted that I would be by myself. The woman asked if I would mind being seated with someone else who had also made a single reservation. Of course - I would save the poor wretch (me) from the ignominy of eating alone. Be glad to do it!

At six I drove slowly past the restaurant, my wife in the passenger seat. Sure enough, the door was open but I could not see inside from the road. “Do you want to pull up and just wait in the car?” Donna asked. Donna had half heartedly offered to go with me to the dinner. Donna doesn't like beer or unfamiliar foods of any kind. I declined. She would pick me up later, though.

As I turned left from Market onto Bank, I peered far down the street trying to spot that red circle emblem painted on the side of my favorite brew pub. I had to go another block and cross over Spring Street before I saw the familiar facade of the Bank Street Brewhouse with its sidewalk seating area in front. Inside the main dining area of the BSB, I find a comfortable mix of muted orange and green walls, gray concrete, and sturdy wood furniture. The ceilings are higher than you'd think and the mechanicals are exposed. I like this neo-industrial meets post-modern speakeasy.

No sooner had I walked up to the bar and asked the bartender for a pint of bitter when I see a tallish fellow with a clean scalp, dressed in a sport coat, marching purposefully past the garage doors and enter the pub. He too walked straight up to the bar. The bartender recognized him and asked if he was eating tonight: “No I'm going to the beer thing down the street.”

Ah, my date.

My dinner companion was Steve. We introduce ourselves and establish our particulars. Steve said he was an economics professor at U of L. I said that I had driven past U of L many times to restaurants, working to bolster the economy. Steve revealed that he had recently traveled to Belgium to attend an international econ conference and while there visited several abbeys famous for brewing beer to research the paper he was writing on the economics of beer production.

I countered that I had seen the movie “In Brugge” multiple times and correctly identified that Brugge is, in fact, in Belgium. Steve's wife, also an economics professor, could not attend the evening’s festivities, as she too was researching a paper. My wife also could not attend as she had that “thing” that she had to do. It was apparent Steve and I had much in common; down right eerie really!

A short time later as we strolled companionably down the sidewalk towards a date at the Frenchman's our commonalities continued to manifest. We both liked to drink beer. What are the odds? Comrades with a purpose, we passed over the threshold into the Frenchman's and took it all in. Painted in soft pastels and much larger than I first thought, the Frenchman's restaurant seemed just right. It had old hardwood floors polished so much the grain appeared worn and soft. Along the wall on the left side was a long bar, and sitting in the middle surrounded by a crowd was Roger and his vivacious, red headed wife, Diana. They greeted us with verve and I sort of wished I had come straight in. Then I reminded myself that I might never have discovered my new twin's similarities had our company been diluted by this boisterous crowd. I gave Steve a wink and saw by the strange look on his face that he too was thinking the same. Hell, we'd probably be finishing each other’s sentences by the time the evening was over. The group made room for us and said we still had time for a glass of wine.

We had a glass of red or white wine - I think. I really can't remember which. I was disconcerted by the appearance of our bartender. I tried not to stare at this movie extra from central casting with his hair, mustache, and beard, carefully coiffured in contrasting black with gray streaks. His formal mien radiated dapper and diabolical, simultaneously. Medium tall he wore his dark suit with impeccable grace, yet imposing in an Eastern European mafia sort of way. French? I doubt it. Those dark stormy brows over raptor's beak said Andre or Dimitri or maybe even Vlad to me. When he asked me for my drink order, I stammered “Whatever Steve is having,” while pointing to my companion. Yes, I had white or red wine, I'm sure of it! It was time to take our seats.

At last, Steve and I moved away from the bar to our four top wedged into a small alcove just to the left of the front door. The restaurant, split nearly in two by a wall down the middle was three quarters full. We were on the bar side and there was a long table set up for eight directly behind us. This table was now occupied by a single couple only and I wondered if there would be some no-shows. Later I would wish there had been. Then, Roger Baylor stood up near the back of the restaurant by the kitchen and began to tell us about his involvement and the beer we would be sampling.

I had heard Roger speak before and now, as then, he spoke confidently, without notes in a smoothly timbered orator's voice that plainly hid an edge of steel. Roger told us that the beer we would be drinking would be French or otherwise inspired by beers from the French Alsace region. While France is nearly synonymous with wine, this region on the Rhine is bordered by Germany and is known for beers informed by both German and Belgium influences. The French beer was being sourced from Starlight Distribution, owned by Tim and Stacy Eads. Tim was also on hand and spoke briefly after Roger. He later provided information at table-side as he came around and poured some of the beers himself. Two of the beers came from the nearby NABC brewery and were of the style. As Roger and Tim finished their opening comments a vision came to me at my table and I took no further notice.

“Would you like bread?” she asked. Her halting English made heartbreakingly beautiful by her accent and musical tone. Such a creature with her pure sweet voice, either angel or siren, could inspire strong men to do terrible things, defy fearsome gods, and abandon all reason without question or regret. In the presence of such feminine perfection, men such as I, melt in abject hopelessness and wish we were better men. Yes please! I would gladly eat bread and only bread if it meant I could linger in the gentle warmth of her presence all evening.

Both she and the Slav bartender provided service at our table several times throughout the evening. There may be blank spots in my recollection which no doubt coincide with her visits. I'm sure my own responses to her gentle queries were given in no less broken English than hers, yet she only smiled sweetly each time. It never occurred to me to ask her name but the dulcet tones of her voice conveyed rhythm to the evening, which I now recall more as a feeling than memory. Merci.

Reminder: Louis Le Français, NABC and Starlight beer dinner on Thursday, March 1.

A reminder: We have a special beer dinner coming up this Thursday, March 1, at Louis le Français. You can read all about it by following the links below.

ON THE AVENUES: From Cassel to New Albany.

Menu for the Louis Le Français beer dinner on Thursday, March 1.

Here's the menu for the Louis Le Français beer dinner on Thursday, March 1.

Previously, a smidgen of background information was provided here: Beer dinner and Alsatian choucroute garnie at the Frenchman's.

Now, after consultations between the three participating entities, the menu can be announced. It looks very good. The Frenchman would like for you to know that this will be a leisurely, continental evening; plan on taking your time. The meal and beers speak for themselves, so all I have to add is my sincere hope that you can join us for this event. Call Louis Le Français for reservations.

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Louis Le Français

Special Event: Beer Dinner

Presented by Louis Le Français, Starlight Distribution and New Albanian Brewing Company


Thursday, March 1st, 2012


Door opens at 5:00 p.m.


Dinner at 7:00 p.m.

Menu

QUICHE LORRAINE -- onion and ham


Paired with Brasserie de Bretagne Saint Erwann Blonde (Abbey; 7% abv)


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CATCH OF THE DAY ALSATIAN STYLE -- mixed seafood stew, beer sauce


Prepared and paired with NABC Tafel Bier (Belgian Pale Ale; 4% abv)


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ALSATIAN SAUERKRAUT -- braised sauerkraut, bacon, pork shank, ham, sausage


Paired with Page-24 Biere de Printemps (Biere de Garde; 6% abv) and NABC Runkel Dunkel (Dark Lager; 6% abv)


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MIXED GREENS SALAD, CROUTONS


Paired with Jolly Pumpkin Calabaza Blanca (Witbier; 4.8% abv)


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GLAZED APPLE TART -- sautéed apples, custard, pastry crust




Paired with L’Hermitiere Cidre Brut (Sparkling Cider; 5% abv)


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PARTING GLASS


Trois Dames Le Semeuse Espresso Stout (7.5% abv)


$55 per person, tax and gratuity not included.


Your patronage is greatly appreciated. Thank you for supporting Downtown New Albany.


Louis Le Français, 133 East Market Street, New Albany, Indiana 47150
812-944-1222