Hot damn! We had our first snow today. It was perfect, powder sugar snow that floated down like a dream. This is the time of year where the snow is simply gorgeous. Later, it’s pretty…pretty aggravating.
Other than the white surprise this morning, I was quite taken by our visit to the new Brown Jug location on Old Seward. I had heard rumors the growler bar was substantial, but there was so much more.
The “Jug” offered a growler bar with over 30 choices on tap. They had also allowed for a customer choice where one lucky patron gets their pick on tap. The available beers were varied and difficult to narrow down. (We had only brought two growlers.) I like having that problem.
The next surprise was the general beer selection. Wow. Beer floor-to-ceiling down an entire aisle AND a cooler.
While we perused Derek noticed Kill Devil. This is a beer we swooned over last year and didn’t expect back due to it’s limited edition status. A bit too giddy, we grabbed a bottle.
Kill Devil is brewed by Widmer Brothers and is a brown ale. It’s special due to its ingredients- Barbados & Blackstrap molasses, Palm sugars, Calypso hops- and due to its conditioning in Puerto Rican Rum barrels.
There’s a malty initial taste followed by a smooth butterscotch, and concluded with tingly sweet hops. The beautiful golden copper brew is “deeeelicious” if you ask Derek.
Beer Name: Kill Devil ’13 Beer Style: Brown Ale Brewer: Widmer Brothers Region: NW Alcohol Content: 9.5% Purchased From: Brown Jug
Today’s blog centers around a beer from Rogue. Brewing out of Oregon, Rogue boasts its own farm. On this farm they grow all of the ingredients used to brew their many delightful beers. I am in awe of their control issues, and I mean that as a compliment.
They have their own beer farm! Cool.
The Hazelnut Brown Nectar Ale’s bottle lists the particular 14 ingredients used during brewing, and includes “free range coastal water” which I found amusing. I’m quite sure the brewers at Rogue plotted this amusement as they do other smile-inducing notes on the bottles of their varied, an numerous, other brews. (While serious brewers, these guys know how to have fun with it. For instance, the words “dare” and “risk” are on their bottle necks.)
This particular offering was the 2011/2012 Gold Metal winner at the American Beer Festival in the Specialty Beer category. The smell was nutty, toasty, and familiar for a brown ale. I wanted a stronger hazelnut taste, but perhaps with the right meal it would be more confident. After a tingly mouthfeel, the ale ended with a pleasant yeasty aftertaste.
Happy Sipping!
-Traci
Beer Name: Hazelnut Brown Nectar Beer Style: Brown Ale Brewer: Rogue Purchased From: Wine House
It’s officially fall here in Anchorage, so I was feeling like beer socks and a pumpkin ale. I grabbed a favorite, Elysian’s Night Owl, and saw Punkuccino next to it. Always willing to take a chance on a coffee beer, I picked it up too.
The Elysian brew doesn’t disappoint. While I didn’t get an overwhelming pumpkin flavor, Punkuccino offered a strong coffee taste combined with a light, effervescent mouth feel. The best part? A distinctive cinnamon and nutmeg finish. Quite like a dirty chai.
Derek’s take was “that’s a lot of coffee.”
My take was “Christmas beer with coffee added.”
Beer Name: Punkuccino
Beer Style: Pumpkin Ale
Brewer: Elysian
Alcohol Content: 5%
Purchased From: La Bodega
Years ago my husband and I started a very personal relationship with beer- we began to brew at home. As all good home-brewers know, it’s required by law that one drinks while brewing. (This honors the beer god Brewlius and almost guarantees a great batch.) Sadly, as with many good things, time created a couple of monsters out of us. Now we find ourselves fascinated by brew regardless of brewday.
Due to our affliction for which we know of no cure, I have decided to raise it to an artistic level because everyone knows that once it’s “art”, it’s ok. As a matter of fact, it usually catches on and is deemed socially acceptable and glorious. Admittedly my beer knowledge comes from great discussions with smart people, reading books and articles, and a pure excitement for the stuff, so please take this “with a grain” and hopefully my words will add to your adventure with beer.
The fiancé, the soon-to-be-step-daughter (STBSD), and I drove to Crow Creek Mine with the intention of hiking a trail we hadn’t been on before. While popular with many Alaskans, the Crow Creek Hand Tram trail was new to us.
We began this adventure with a stop at the mine itself to obtain trail head directions. The lovely teen (I want to point out how lovely she was because so few teens get credit for good behavior these days) behind the counter told us our destination was ¼ mile up the road on the left. Excited, we began to beat feet.
I am terrible with directions, space, distance, etc. Due to this tragic disability, I kept my thoughts to myself as we trudged up the road. Thoughts like, “I think we’ve walked further than ¼ mile”, “You’d think there’d be a sign”, and as the large trail head complete with sign and parking lot which we had passed on our way to the mine came into view, “If this was the trail head, wouldn’t she have mentioned?” Well, dear reader, this was one way of reaching our desired trail, but we would solve the ¼ mile mystery by the end of our journey.
The map found at the trail head was clear and informative. There was also a sign telling us the hand tram was out of use during a repair period that began June 2nd and would continue 4 to 6 weeks. While the hand tram was supposed to be the highlight of our trip, a quick check with STBSD determined we would carry on anyway.
Along the trail there were many signs stating trail choice and distance. It was also hiker friendly (well maintained and not too muddy) and I noted many a small child. I was also encouraged by the number of hikers. There were enough to keep bears away (bears being fear #2 on my “worst fuzzy creatures ever created” list) but we never felt crowded. For the most part we were alone with the occasional head nod and “hello” as a group passed by on their way back up the trail.
Trail Sign Example
Upon reaching the closed hand tram we spent some time giggling at the safety signs- I always get a kick out of the poor unfortunate figures meeting with disaster. We also walked delicately to the edge of the gorge.
Duh
There is quite a drop off from that point. The water below rushes fast enough for a good rafting adventure and we actually saw two single-man rafts zip by. (Now that looked like an adventure for another day!) My STBSD mourned the broken tram and we turned tail and headed uphill toward the car. The trip up was a much more satisfying workout, but I would still consider it beginner level. (Although for those with small children please note I saw two parents carrying their toddlers back up. I can still remember how that can change a beginner level activity into an “oh my gosh, kill me now” activity.)
1/4 Mile Sign
About ¾ of the way back (a total estimation calculated with my aforementioned, regrettable disadvantage when it comes to distance) we noticed a sign that read “Crow Creek Mine”. As that was where our car was parked, we opted to swerve right down this path. Sure as, well you know… we popped out right next to the mine. I would go as far as saying we popped out a mere ¼ mile away. I began to rib my fiancé about his obvious lack of man-skills, but then he giggled and pointed behind me. On a birch behind me there was a sign pointing out the entrance to the hand tram trail. We had both missed that. As we erupted into laughter, my STBSD rolled her eyes and shook her head. She’s more than used to being dragged on enjoyable misadventures. Heck, what would she do with her time if we didn’t give her something to complain about?
I love to bake. I started out liking to bake, but once I found myself crazy busy trying to work full-time, raise a tween, and finish my Master’s degree I stumbled into loving the practice of heating various combinations of flour, sugar, and butter into deliciousness. Baking was something I could do that placed the constant buzzing in my head on pause. All that I had to concentrate on was following directions and adding a bit of flare. (Following directions precisely isn’t really “me”.)
Those who know me are sometimes confused by my affection for baking. The act is extremely measured- almost mathematical. I gravitate toward more fluid things such as making up stories, going on walks, and being entirely too easily entertained. While the measured part of baking is sometimes a challenge (I am occasionally guilty of not pressing the brown sugar enough, or adding cinnamon when it hasn’t been called for…flare, remember?) I think my general amiability helps me deal with baking’s darker, less talked about side: the botched bake.
I have discovered two primary ways that a botched bake occurs:
1. The baker follows the directions to a T as it is the first time the recipe has been attempted, and through mystical oven, stove, or mixer happenings it just doesn’t come out right. (Ok, to be truthful cinnamon or nutmeg is usually added, but that would be the only meddling. I swear.)
2. The baker does what they have done a billion trillion times before with the same damn recipe they’ve always used and it just doesn’t come out right.
Generally speaking, I deal with the first type without incident. I may utter an “oh poop”, but no fits are thrown. The second type is a bit more frustrating. Please see exhibit A.
Exhibit A
What you see here is a simple yellow cake. What you also see is a stunningly well-presented sink hole in the middle. I have made this elementary yellow cake for years. It’s a “go-to” that I find familiar and comforting. Yet with my all of my yellow cake expertise, “YC genius” if you will, I still ended up with a gasp producing eyesore.
This is where it’s all about attitude.
After a quick recovery, I did what I usually do in these situations- admit math isn’t perfect (the problem clearly doesn’t lie in my execution), and make it work. In this case, after filling the hole with a bit more frosting to level everything out, voila, a beautiful cake is visible. As for the frosting, who wouldn’t like an extra dose of sweetness? That middle piece person is going to be one lucky poochie.
My mission, or middle-of-the-new-year resolution, is to apply this same attitude to my life in general. I need to get the fun back and truly enjoy the changes that are coming. I need to take risks that aren’t life threatening. I intend to try new things, add flare, and succeed or fail. I’m going to try old things and roll with them when they are utterly and completely botched through no fault of my own (as previously established). My mission is to enjoy the adventure and develop the cutest laugh lines my fiancé has ever seen.
