I am a book nerd. This should not come as a surprise. I am a craft beer fan who writes a column as a self-proclaimed feminist, and who also happens to run a critically acclaimed but financially wonky literary magazine. Turns out, I’m also notorious for appearing at my favorite bars with a tote bag containing a minimum of two books in it. Try to contain your shock, people.
I’m rarely found without a book in front of my face. I’m the weird one hunched up at the end of the bar with terrible posture and a hardback copy of whatever the hell the London Review of Books recently instructed me to read. And if all of this seems a bit too hipster for your taste, just note that I’m too old to be a hipster, too young to be a hippie, and too relaxed between the pages of my content to really care about outside objections to my personality.
We’re here to talk about books and beer. Two of my favorite things. And while there are many blogs out there coupling craft beer with everything from Girl Scout cookies to at-home sushi recipes, to my knowledge there isn’t anyone tackling this most sacred of pairings. This isn’t just about “these two things taste good together” because, seriously, one of the things here is a book. If you’re trying to eat it, you’re doing it wrong. This is about metaphor, style, and the complimentary feelings the right beer can create when coupled with the right book.
So if all this touchy-feely literary nonsense hasn’t yet sent you screaming back to your social media feed to locate a less lofty article, let us proceed with the first of what will likely be many book and beer pairings.
St. Arnold’s Divine Reserve 16 & House of Leaves, by Mark Z. Danielewski
Whoa, Kerri. Going right for the harsh shit, are we? Why yes, yes we are. St. Arnold’s created a little monster with their 16th Divine Reserve. It’s smoky and dark, with layers upon layers of surprises, some challenging, and others mildly terrifying. It’s a beer that people either instantly love or hate, and it’s not something you should be advised to wildly recommend to anyone without having an intimate knowledge of what he or she likes and dislikes in beer. It’s a challenge, full of dark corners and tricks that jump out and shock you no matter how prepared you think you are. All that being said, I love the stuff. And I also love House of Leaves, a book I loudly proclaim to be the most disturbing read I’ve ever encountered. It’s essentially a haunted house story, but we aren’t talking Amityville here. Amityville is Berenstain Bears Country compared to this nightmare. It’s two storylines, separated by time, but held together by the darkest of houses and, oh yeah, footnotes. This book has a lot of footnotes. But it’s complexity is deep and wandering, making it the perfect dark companion for Divine 16. Drink it with the lights on.
Independence Stash IPA & HOWL, by Allen Ginsberg
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by Budweiser. In case you missed it, that was me, adding to the countless pop-culture bastardizations of the famous first line of Allen Ginsberg’s HOWL. This long-form beat poem is an icon in American literature, ripe with righteous indignation, general anger, and existential ennui out the wazzoo. So obviously, it lands on my recommended list. But it takes a strong beer to couple with such a recognized and devastating work of art. It takes something with confidence and a sense of purpose, but also a sense of humor. We’re going to need Stash for this one. Independence Brewing’s Stash IPA is one of the best on the Texas market, with citra (my fave) rounding out the incredibly complex hops profile. And did I mention that it’s dank as f***? Yeah, that too. It’s a song of independence in a bottle, a call-back to a time of rebellion and hope. It is the perfect companion to the beat masterpiece that still speaks to generations of restless, yet persistently optimistic malcontents.
Big Bend Brewing No. 22 Porter & Giant, by Edna Ferber
Coming back home to Texas, we have to pair the quintessential novel of the oil boom in west Texas with an obvious, but appropriate, partner at Big Bend Brewery. And no, not merely because of the brewery’s location in Alpine, mere miles from the famous shooting location for the film version of Giant outside of Marfa. But rather because the story contains some of the manliest men you could ever hope (or fear) to meet. And manly men deserve a rich and ready drink at the end of a long day. But also, screw all that man’s beer for a man’s book crap. Check the column title and let’s regroup. This pairing isn’t merely about geography or testosterone. Giant is a sweeping epic with business dealings and deceptions, family squabbles, and tolerance triumphant. It’s about independence and pride, two qualities proud Texans have in ready supply. Big Bend is a brewery practically in the middle of nowhere. But their isolation is a virtue, rather than a shortcoming. It’s a spirit of “you come to us, because that’s how good we are.” And now, with distribution of their most popular brews to much of Texas, I would venture to guess that a lot of craft beer lovers are planning a trip to far west Texas in the near future to sample their latest tap room offerings. If you aren’t, you should be. And take along a copy of Giant.
Got a book/beer pairing you’d like to share? Throw it in the comments section or email me at kerri@shadetxcraft.com