As it’s the beginning of the first weekend of a vacation, and a warm, clear summer day, a young man’s thoughts and stirrings within his heart naturally awaken his yearning to embrace his most sacred love: beer.
Cripes, I am sleeping on the couch tonight for that intro, I know.
So think upon these things, friends:
- While discussing free trade or something important in the New York Times, Virginia Postrel points out:
“The U.S. used to import coffee from around 25 countries,” says David E. Weinstein, an economist at Columbia University. “Now we import it from 52 countries. Beer we import from three times more countries than we used to.”
Viva laissez-faire, if you can still pronounce it this late in the day.
- Via Fark, we see this little story: Ain’t the beer classy:
At Detroit’s four-star Opus One last month, eager diners paid $55 apiece for an evening of fine food with fine libations. Six bulbous wineglasses stood by their plates. Waiters waltzed by and poured from . . . pitchers of beer? Indeed, dinner began with a cold shrimp and crab crostini, served with an English mild ale, and ended with caramel cappuccino cheesecake, accompanied by a British favorite, dry stout.
Beer wants to be the next wine. Not the boys at Budweiser but local brewers. These beer artisans will never be able to compete with Bud at football games. But they might stand a chance as an alternative to wine with dinner.
Call me a traditionalist, but beer really only truly augments three meals: wings, pizza, and chicken. Granted, it goes well with anything, or nothing, but if you were to ask me, “Brian, what beer goes best with brined chicken with cilantro garnish?” I would answer, “Lots.”