When it comes to beer I am a pretty simple man.
People say I don’t know beer, it is probably true. I am a Corona and lime kind
of a guy. When it’s cold I will dabble in hard ciders. What is most important
to me is that a beer is not bitter as hell. My friend Wes (who I will come to
find out is avid foodie like me) told me of a festival called Zwickelmania. It
is a once a year event where all local breweries open there back doors and try
out their best beer. For someone who isn’t in touch with a big variety of beers
I thought it would be a great experience. Not to mention it's a free event. In
times like these it is nice to have a day where you don’t have to worry about
spending a lot to have an adventure.
My friend Wes and I headed out to our first
location; Hop Works. Which is located on 30th and Powell in the
Brooklyn district. It is a pretty modern establishment with the ideology of
organic/natural beers and food. The best part of this place is that anyone can
bring their entire families there, they have a place for kids. We end up
meeting Wes' girlfriend and her mother along with Peter, Wes’s Brother, and his
wife. We enjoy the first beer at 11:45 a.m. I try the ESB Velvet which was red
amber in color. It was bitter but sweet and had a good acid back note. I loved
it (and with brunch, none the less). We enjoyed our beer while sitting next to
a wall that commemorates the many beers made in that brewery. For food I
ordered the stuffed Portobello with rice, spinach, artichokes and cheese. It
came with a lightly dressed spring salad mix and petite toast. This was the
best way to start the journey!
We saw the shuttle to the next brewery leaving,
it cost $5 and the shuttle took us from place to place. We arrived to our next
stop at The Common Brewery. It was in the middle of the industrial district;
which in passing didn’t seem like much, but on walking in I noticed it was
immaculate. First, on the short tour, was a tasting of five day old Urban
Farmhouse. The taste of it can only be described as having a beer sit on your
table for a couple days. It was flat, stale, and kind of gritty tasting. I don’t
know why we would want to taste it but it was not good idea. Next we had beer
that was three weeks old. That was better, but still no carbonation. That was
an interesting part of a tour. I was not too crazy about it but it’s good to
know the processes and changes of maturing beer. Peter, Wes, and I quickly got
on the bus and headed to the next place, not really 'feeling' that brewery.
The next stops were the Green Dragon and the
Buckman Brewery. Anyone who knows me knows I love dragons, so the name alone
made the place sound great! We walk in and the place is busy. They have picnic
tables everywhere and the seating was community style (people sharing tables)
and playing board games. It just seems like an awesome place to come and chill.
We stood in a line which expanded to the door. They let us in the brewery and
the first thing we see is a couple of people of the brewing club, which get to
make beer for the Green Dragon. They play around with small batches and then
later can brew big batches to sell. The interesting part of this club is that
you can only be part of it if you are drafted from a home brewing club. This is
an interesting idea, because it shows that you are dedicated to the art of beer
making. The tour consisted of a speech from the brewer which lasted three
minutes and a tasting of the beer he was working on.
The Brewer was a one man show who tests and makes
all the beer distributed from the brewery. He didn’t seem like much of an old
man but more of a laid back young guy who makes beer all day and enjoys life.
For me, that is what makes something amazing and unique. When you can feel the
passion in something! As I said before,
I am a hard cider kind of guy and they make Apple beer, which the name alone is
a keeper. The first sip was not what you would expect. It is not sweet, but
more like a dry white wine mixed with a pale ale. The brewer told me it was one
of the hardest beers to get right. I found it would make a great summer beer in
the sun or by a good bon fire. That was the end of the tour so we decided to
move on to the next place. We headed out to our shuttle, but it was gone. There
was another in its place, so we figured if it is going to another brewery, why
not?
Later that day Peter came to the conclusion that
if a man, in front of a bus (that may have been the same bus Rosa Parks rode
on) is dressed in a Rastafarian outfit, dreaded but white as snow, you should
probably never get on that bus. I was excited and it seemed legitimate, so we
get on. The first thing we see is a blanket of smoke. I thought to myself,
"Did the green dragon call his cousin Puff?” No, thankfully it was just a
fog machine. The bus had wooden seats and laser lights with Bob Marley playing
in the back ground. This was literally a Mobile Jamaican station. Peter was
worried by the sheer fact that if this thing ever got in an accident people
would be flying with large pieces of wood to break their fall, who-ever thought
of it was most likely stoned. With this thought we arrive at a place our group
would soon call Purgatory.
Purgatory (or as its actually called) Base Camp
was by far the coolest but most busy of the breweries. First off, we had to
stand in the cold and rain for about 30 minutes just to say screw it we need
beers. Wes went inside the bar, while we stood in line for the brewery tasting.
Wes rationalized this saying, "if there is no sign, then it must not be
against the rules." Seems like Wes is a man of logic! In his defense, if
you get a beer at a brewery and you want to drink while in line, why should you
be looked down on? Apparently it is against the rules, so he had to leave them
inside to come tell us that.
We go into the bar for our partially confiscated
beers, which were horrible. I can’t forget that awful taste, it was like a
mouthful of sour pennies. Unfortunately our rules are you don’t throw away
beer, no matter what. I chugged it, but it was a 35 degree beer so it felt like
I was getting punched in the face. Next round was on Peter and we blindly
decided on a beer based on alcohol content. 11% is what I would find out later
to be Malt Liquor. As a black man and being 25 without the taste of malt liquor
in his life, I realized this should have been a cultural experience. I missed
said experience in my life before this point, so I decided to go for it. Right
after tasting it, I realized I am not black. Not to sound like a stereotype,
but it’s my humor and blog so grow up. The beer was called White Squall and it
definitely made you want to squall after three sips! If there was ever a time
not to chug something in my life it was White squall. Ten minutes later the
alcohol had taken effect and everything became way better and more interesting.
We soon realized it had been an hour and a half
and our bus was no where to be found. We
waited 45 minutes and we were all pretty buzzed. Mind you it was only
2:00 p.m. at this point. We had no way of getting to our next stop. While
debating our next move Peter came to the conclusion that this is what purgatory
must feel like. You want to go to other breweries and try different beers but
you’re stuck in a place with no safe way of getting out. Luckily Wes (who I
would say is the Portland version of me in my home town) knows everyone. Some
guys he knew offered to give us a ride to another brewery, we accepted. The
group of guys we were around were all architects and lawyers and people of
status. Not my normal crowd so to speak. What I did (and still do) find funny
is that drunk people all act the same, we just worry about totally different
things. For example: instead of trying to find our bus passes, they try to find
where they parked their Ferrari. The rich make me laugh; they were nice people
though and they helped us get to our next destination.
Burnside Brewery was the next destination, it was
the short kind of situation where here’s your sample and get moving, not the
most inviting. We decided it was time for food so we walked across the street
to the Doug Fir. Now the Doug Fir is a classy place where Portlandia meets
Canada. The giant chrome plated moose head, the wood cabin walls and the dark
colored upholstery, this place was meant for getting lost in the night and
having a good time. We met up with a couple of Peter's friends and we had
drinks and relaxed while Peter’s wife came to pick him up. At this point we
were, for the most part, intoxicated. They day wasn’t even close to over but I
decided to relax and start sobering up. The Brewery crawl was over.
Later that night Wes and I had a party to attend,
so we decided to have dinner at what I soon find out is the best Japanese food
outside of Japan. Standing outside and looking at this place you would think
you are about to walk to someone's house. The restaurant is named Miho and it
is in North Portland on Interstate Avenue. If you are driving by and do not
know it you would drive by it everyday.
Here is a
little preface to this story about the Japanese restaurant. The week before, I
had been watching this show called Mind of a Chef, featuring David Chang, a
chef from New York. He went Japan to learn about Ramen houses and Japanese
Culture. It was very educational and a lot of the flavors and techniques were
mouth-water inducing and inspiring to me.
Now back to the situation at hand; I walk in, the
waiter greets me (he is some white guy in his late 20’s early 30’s who is a
chill laid back person all about the food). We get seated and he takes our
order. This guy is an excellent waiter, he felt out what we wanted by asking
questions and making suggestions to us. He was very knowledgeable and he knew how
everything was made. I had been craving Ramen bowls since watching David Chang
and I went with roasted pork ramen. Wes decided to go with the pork belly and
braised daikon with seared Spam. I am from Hawaii so anything with Spam, I will
love! The awesome thing is that they make their own Spam...yes their own
Spam!
We started the meal with Wasabi Oyster shooters.
The shooters came out and it was just beautiful. The taste was fresh and well
prepared and the spicy wasabi finished it perfectly. Our food basically flew
out of the kitchen and the Ramen was perfect. The broth and noodles were
perfect for each other. The roasted pork was tender and accompanied by a soft
boiled egg. Wes was still pretty drunk, but he managed to eat most of the pork
belly and daikon but I helped him with the rest. The pork belly was miso
marinated with a ginger soy glaze finished and broiled. It was the absolute
taste of divinity. The braised daikon was shockingly good because I am not a
radish fan, but the slow cooking of the radish made it tender but delicate. The
accompanying Japanese mustard made it phenomenal.
This day was a perfect example of exactly why I
love food! The reason I wanted to become a chef and a food writer! The
discovery and celebration of food is the reason we get together. It is the very
thing that makes cultures so different but the exact same at the all at once.
We may have different languages and places we are from but we all speak food!
