After landing a bit behind schedule at Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans, Elisa and I got a quick pint-and-slice at New York Pizza. With an Abita Amber and Lazy Magnolia Jefferson Stout, we headed downtown to the New Orleans On Tap beer festival.

The most interesting taste: Bayou Teche Biere LA 31 Boucanee. This cherry-wood smoked wheat beer tasted like smoked gouda, and is certainly not a session beer. In fact, I would probably only drink this with food. Salty, smokey, cheesy, delicious food.

That’s it for this mini-post, folks. I’ll be in town all week writing and shooting.

Skip produces The Gourmetro. Check out his published works on Aisle 9, and talk with him on Twitter.

Sam Adams Infinium. Photo by Dan Schumacher

When Amy came back to the office saying she’d just seen a Champagne-like beer made by one of the oldest German breweries (and Sam Adams), I was intrigued. She went on to explain that the distributor had to get on a list years ago and received only one case. Very intrigued. And then she mentioned the price: $20. However shocked, I still wanted to pop a cork on one of Sam Adams’ Infinium.

Infinium - In Snow. Photo by Dan Schumacher

Amy brought a bottle back to the office a few days later, but I have to say that none of us were impressed. Maybe it was the temperature, maybe it was so much different than any beer we’d tried before, or maybe it was a bad bottle. Who knows, but I was not too excited about the bottle I had sitting in the basement.

Infinium - Poured (close up). Photo by Dan Schumacher

This past weekend, I opened my bottle and shared it with the house. The fast-acting and intense head was the first thing we noticed, as well as its light golden color and fine, Champagne-like bubbles. After two minutes, the head subsided and we began to smell sweet crisp apple (or persimmon, thanks Atlantic).

Infinium’s combination of beer and Champagne, while not altogether seamless, is certainly interesting. Once on the palate, the acidity and carbonation were on the forefront but quickly transitioned to beerier notes of caramel, cloves and nutmeg. Hoppy bitterness is present but doesn’t receive the spotlight. At the finish, the 10.3 percent alcohol by volume booziness mixes with the apple scent from the nose reminding me of calvados. (I love calvados.)

Would I run out and grab another bottle? No, probably not. The prohibitively high price, for me at least, outweighs the beer’s novelty and flavor. Now that I’m back in New York and have access to so many new and interesting brews, I’d rather just move on.

Skip produces The Gourmetro. He loves beer and was the founding beer columnist for Birmingham Magazine. Check out his published works on Aisle 9, and talk with him on Twitter.

21st Amendment Fireside Chat Box. Photo by Dan Schumacher

Red Brick Brewery‘s Brown Ale was the last beer I bought based on its packaging, and I was unfortunately rewarded with its delicious taste. I say ‘unfortunately’ because that event may have fostered the notion that a well-packaged beer would be a tasty one. However promising 21st Amendment Fireside Chat looked on the counter, it was ultimately one of the most disappointing beers I’ve ever tasted.

21st Amendment Brewery's Fireside Chat Winter Spiced Ale - Cans and Box. Photo by Dan Schumacher

Comment if you think I am totally off base, but I am of the opinion that because packaging is an essential aspect of a product, a company that pays attention to its details might be more likely to use that detail-oriented approach on the product’s insides. I will not go so far to say that the folks at 21st Amendment did not pay attention to Fireside Chat’s insides, but there was a clear disparity in the packaging and the beer.

21st Amendment Brewery's Fireside Chat Winter Spiced Ale - Poured. Photo by Dan Schumacher

After two (albeit brief-yet-rambling) paragraphs, it’s time to discuss the Fireside Chat. I kept opening the cans in hopes that the rich brown spiced ale would yield anything more than wimpy, over-spiced, under-carbonated crap. The only notable aspect of Fireside Chat is the aftertaste of cooked  broccoli water once the dominant cinnamon and clove notes subside. That sour, vegetal flavor killed Fireside Chat for me, more so than the body or bullying spice notes. The combination of light body and maltiness reminded me much more of Doppelbock than ale.

I’ll give 21st Amendment another try at some point, just not soon.

Skip produces The Gourmetro. He wrote a beer column for Birmingham Magazine, and as much as he loves beer, he tends to take it without broccoli. Check out his published works on Aisle 9, and talk with him on Twitter.

New York: Blue Bottle Coffee New Orleans Iced Coffee. Photo by Dan Schumacher

My relationship with coffee began, as many do, as a casual friendship. I had been working overnight at Apple’s Fifth Avenue store and after a year of nocturnal living found myself wanting its warm, comforting buzz. It wasn’t the energizing chemicals so much as the atmosphere of Mud, a slightly-small, dark East Village coffee shop that really got me hooked. Manhattan felt more crowded and hostile all the time and I knew I could always wrap myself in the warm blanket of good music, hot espresso macchiatos and friendly faces.

Birmingham: Urban Standard Cappuccino. Photo by Dan Schumacher

It was a treat, a preemptive reward for being productive. I didn’t drink it daily or prepare it for myself–I didn’t own any of the necessary equipment. Months later I started a mostly-new life in Birmingham, Alabama, a city that from the start I could tell wouldn’t be as innately challenging as New York. That was a relief, but the feeling wore off as the reality of starting over set in. There was no nearby Mud to serve as my hideout, and there weren’t many people I could have shared it with even if there were. Urban Standard opened a few months later and provided Downtown Birmingham with just the kind of expertly-made coffee and social space I needed.

New York: Mud Coffee with Almond-Crusted French Toast. Photo by Dan Schumacher

After that [necessary? useful?] preamble, we fast-forward from mid-2007 to this past weekend, when I met up with longtime friend and fellow coffee lover Carla Jean. We brunched at Mud, whose food I’d never eaten. Once the sturdy orange mug was in my hand, it was like I’d never left. Their coffee, which I took black (like my heart), was surprisingly full-bodied and silky for drip. Our server explained their method (using more ground coffee, simply enough) as we finished our almond-crusted french toast.

Canon Ball Presents: Prints Gone Wild Bunny Graffiti. Photo by Dan Schumacher

From Mud, we headed to Williamsburg’s Secret Project Robot Art Space for the Cannonball Press print show. One of my favorite letterpress houses–Yee-Haw Industries of Knoxville Tenn.–was on hand with their beautiful prints and will be back in NYC this December for the Chelsea Market Christmas thing. Carla Jean had to head back to Midtown in a rush, so she missed out on Blue Bottle. Oh did she miss out on some sweet, sweet coffee.

Blue Bottle Coffee. Photo by Dan Schumacher

After randomly running into a former suitemate who turned out to be periodic percussionist for the Richmond, VA band The Diamond Center, I met up with an old friend at Blue Bottle. They are perhaps best known for their niche brewing techniques, which include nel drip and siphon, and they are certainly worth a inter-borough trip. The weather was brisk but I was overdressed and overheating so I opted for a New Orleans iced coffee (pictured, top). It was, as the menu suggests, slightly sweet and just milky enough. The experience would have been perfect if stroller-toting hipster parents had kept their monstrous baby carts from impeding traffic at every turn. But that’s what you get in Brooklyn. I can’t wait to go back and try some hot coffee.

I’m always taking suggestions, so if you have a favorite coffee spot in the city (or anywhere. I’ll travel), please hit me up with a comment.

Skip is the producer of The Gourmetro. He can’t find his French press and it kills him, absolutely, every day. Check out his published works on Aisle 9, and talk with him on Twitter.

]]> http://www.thegourmetro.net/2010/11/nyc-fully-caffeinated/feed/ 5 http://www.thegourmetro.net/2007/04/chivalric-dining/ http://www.thegourmetro.net/2007/04/chivalric-dining/#comments Tue, 10 Apr 2007 16:30:00 +0000 Joanie http://www.thegourmetro.net/pantry/?p=97

When the parents come to town, my dining options improve greatly. The usual omelets and toast get replaced by Vermillion!

Mom loves Old Town Alexandria, so after much parking ado, we headed into Vermillion, a place which had been recommended to me. The downstairs is specifically a lounge, with dark crimson couches and a lovely bar. I mentally noted to come back when Alexandria institutes its smoking ban.

We were led to the upstairs restaurant and seated at a lovely table at the window. Decor note: perfectly romantic place. The ceiling was black with red drapes hanging from it, walls covered with wine, but the “art” was the coolest part. The walls were rustic brick with gold frames on it – and each of frames was lit with a spotlight so that the light itself was framed. Brilliant!

Anyway, food. Vermillion, as the swanky lounge downstairs suggested, has a stellar bar menu. Mom had a Pomolitan (cosmo with pomegranate juice) and I had an Old Town lemonade (citrus vodka, mint, lemons, soda & sugar). Both drinks were very refreshing without being too sweet. We then shared some latkes & cured salmon, which came with a spoonful of sweet homemade apple butter and some creamy horseradish sauce.

Next came a light spinach salad with some tangy goat cheese & a blood-orange vinaigrette. The goat cheese wasn’t crumbled as is normally the case with salads, but instead smeared on the side of the plate. I really enjoyed this difference in presentation – but mainly because it was high quality Pipe Dreams goat cheese, and not some boring chevre that doesn’t add much to a salad.

For my entree, I went with the rib rack of pork, which came with cider-braised kale and pear & currant strudel. I don’t think I have ever knowingly consumed kale, but there was bacon involved in its cooking, so I had to go for it, and was not disappointed. The strudel came in thin little tubes – think Pirouette cookies – that accompanied the pork. They were very good, but I would have preferred my strudel bigger and softer that the flavors could mingle with the pork a bit more.

As we decided to split a poached pear for dessert, two glasses of port appeared on the table, courtesy of the gentlemen & his wife dining adjacent to us. They had been doing a tasting menu, it seemed, and the chef came out multiple times to talk to them, and even brought them a signed menu at the end. Apparently Mom & I seemed posh enough in our culinary enjoyment and witty repartee to deserve some port at the end of the meal. We talked to the couple for awhile about the DC dining scene and port in general (Mom used to have it frequently when she lived in Chile).

After the generous couple had left, my mom turned to me and said, “That’s the first time that’s ever happened to me!” and I agreed (excepting skeezy dudes at bars, which don’t count). Anyone else ever had a fellow diner treat you to a drink or something else for pure culinary enjoyment?

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