So, you liked the book and beer pairings, did you? And now you’d like a bit more? SHADE readers spoke, and we listened. Belly up for round two.
Brash Vulgar Display of Power & A Cook’s Tour, by Anthony Bourdain
If you live in or near Houston and have access to the magic of social media, you will likely already be aware of the fact that Anthony Bourdain recently paid a visit to my beloved home city. Most people probably received this news with a mild, “hmm, that’s cool.” While others (who shall remain nameless), suffered a reaction more closely resembling a childhood temper tantrum, limbs flailing, squeaking in octaves only dogs can hear, “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” I love me some Tony Bourdain. From his breakout book to his hit TV shows, I can’t get enough of this foul-mouthed, strongly opinionated former chef. So in honor of his visit to Houston (not to mention my general hero worship of the guy), I’m pairing one of his early books, A Cook’s Tour. Even back in the fledgling days of this star’s success as a celebrity, his healthy ego was already well-established. So let’s break out some Brash Vulgar Display of Power here and sip the delicious, rich irony. A beer as strong as the famously driven personalities of the folks behind Brash Brewing, Vulgar Display is wickedly individualistic with a “take it all and like it” drinkability. A Russian Imperial Stout with 111 IBU, it’s probably more bitter than it rightfully needs to be, and it’s uninterested in impressing those who refuse to be impressed. And what says “Anthony Bourdain” better than that? Just as A Cook’s Tour was Bourdain’s early attempt at a travelogue, filled with artistic meanderings and the jolting reality of adjusting to a new lifestyle identified by fame and exhibitionism, Brash’s Vulgar Display is a promise of more good and well, admittedly brash, things to come.
Real Ale Mysterium Verum (Codex Triplex) & The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, by Haruki Murakami
When I write these pairings, I almost always start with the book first and then seek a beer that compliments it. When it’s time to match-make one of my all-time favorite reads, it requires a great deal of time and consideration, not to mention extensive taste testing. What can I say? I’m meticulous like that. So when I decided it was time to pair Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, I knew I was treading on sacred territory. What I finally landed on as this book’s Texas craft soulmate was Real Ale Codex Triplex Mysterium Verum. And while the mere name of this American Wild Sour bears an admitted call to the magical realism of Murakami’s masterwork, it’s not just about moniker matching here. This isn’t merely a make-the-craft-beer-newbies-wince type of sour. It’s layered and hearty and beautiful, with a wildness that constricts the throat and boggles the mind. All of these things are the same descriptors Murakami worshipers such as myself use to explain our fascination with the strange, flowing style of the author. Drink Codex Triplex while reading The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and you’ll see what I mean. Drink and read enough of each, and you’ll likely lose all ability to ascertain reality, or to fully acknowledge whether you’re awake, or dreaming. And isn’t that the goal of any great beer as well as any great book?
Galveston Bay Beer Ghostship Gose & Isaac’s Storm, by Erik Larson
I’m living in Galveston these days. And it’s not all fun and sun and beach and flesh-eating bacteria warnings. It’s also a lot of watching the skies, scanning the forecasts, and entering into extensive conversations with neighbors and co-workers about the weather. Now, we’re going to use the euphemistic term “storm” here in lieu of the “h-word” which we islanders actively avoid. Thankfully, when Erik Larson wrote the definition novel of the 1900 disaster that destroyed the whole city of Galveston, which was, at the time, the largest port in the U.S., he took a similar approach. Isaac’s Storm is a rare breed of meticulously researched narrative non-fiction. It chronicles the arrival and subsequent destructive power of a storm so vicious, that it remains the worst natural disaster in U.S. history. In honor of this definitive novel of the Texas coast, we looked to our friends at Galveston Bay Beer and their Ghostship Gose. Anyone who’s ever visited the beaches of Galveston knows that taste of salty sea water that settles and dissolves into your skin and onto your lips. And Ghostship Gose is a call-back to the carefree days of childhood when you could race into and out of the Gulf waters without so much as a thought regarding SPF or tropical storm warnings. Just as Isaac’s storm is definitive Galveston, Ghostship is as well. Drink and read them together while you bake on Stewart’s beach, without a care or worry for barometric pressures of any kind.
Think you’ve got a book and beer pairing I need to try? Keep ’em coming. kerri@shadetxcraft.com