Thursday, May 19, 2011

My Brazilian Beer Trek

I recently began working on a project that involves food. A lot of food. It also involves using my skills to make that food a reality, so all in all, it's pretty sweet. And this is even before taking into account that one of those foods is chocolate.

But let me not digress. At the risk of generalizing the use of the term "food", another one of those foods is beer. Beer. I may not be much of a drinker generally, but I've had my fair share. I would also say I'm pretty open to trying alcohol and have a nicely graduated scale to measure my degree of "like" for anything I try. Beer somehow never made it off the zero point on my scale. The general response to this statement is - "but have you ever tried any GOOD beer?" - and to that, my answer is YES. I've tried more than 300 beers in the last few years pushed onto me by friends and relatives, all with the emphatic statement "you will DEFINITELY like this one", and you know what? I don't. Maybe I just have bad taste but the only beers I've been able to tolerate are fruity Lambics that, at least in New York, come with an unhealthy dose of added sugar.

So imagine my reaction at being informed that I am going to Brazil to meet a master brewer and conduct field research in order to construct a brewery business plan. Brazil?! Yeah!! Making a business plan? Awesome! Meeting a master brewer and touring breweries? Very cool. Trying a few dozen beers while being watched by expectant brewers? Oh no...

If you haven’t guessed as yet, this is the story of my 3-day Brazilian beer trek and…wait for it…how I fell in love with a beer.

I flew into Belo Horizonte, the capital of and largest city in the state of Minas Gerais, a part of Brazil I had not visited before. Minas Gerais is a landlocked state and named after the extensive occurrence of mining in this part of the country. Belo Horizonte is indeed a large city and the feature that gives it its name, its beautiful horizon, is evident on every road trip - and I took a lot of them!

I met Marco Falcone, my brew master guide, that first evening. Marco is one of the nicest, kindest people I have ever met and a highly respected brewer in the Brazilian craft beer community. Luckily we were able to communicate well through (mostly) English and mangled Spanish-Portuguese. He had arranged a fantastic itinerary that included visiting a range of breweries from a home brewer with self-made equipment to a large-scale, but still craft, brewery. By the end of the trip, I felt a little like Goldilocks - this one was too small, that one too large, and oh, this one is just right!

That first evening, we visited a home brewer and a small-scale professional brewery. My interrogations and copious note-taking were often interrupted by "try this beer!" and I was completely outed as a beer non-weight. The brewers remained incredibly nice and excited about my visit, which is more than I can say about myself when someone tells me they don't really like chocolate.

I realized that the world of craft beer is really similar to that of artisanal chocolate. There are the “big guys” with usually terrible products who muscle out the little guys by pure economic force. And there are the little guys, who are in this world due to their passion for the product, always fighting to create something better, and eager to educate their consumers. They also speak of flavors, essences, and notes in beer just as I do about chocolate. Strangely enough (or maybe not?), the darker beers, like the darker chocolates, are the ones with more complexity.

Marco happily downed my barely sipped beers. The next day he brought his son along as the designated driver. I think he realized that if we were to continue visiting breweries and he had to perform double drinking duty, this was necessary. There was no question of him not drinking the second round if he thought it was good beer, and I developed a very healthy respect for his capacity. Also, poor Rafael! Imagine a 21 year old driving us around from one brewery to the next and not being allowed to touch a drop! He kept a really good face on though and my offer to drive and let them both drink was laughed away.

Our second day involved visiting a mid-scale craft brewery where I learned the term “vender o peixe” or sell the fish. It is a term used by the industry that refers to selling their (beer) merchandise. More barely sipped beers manfully drunk by Marco and then we took off for Falke Bier, Marco’s own brewery.

Writing about Falke Bier would take a full blog post on its own so I won’t start here, and will instead refer the reader to this article where Charlie Papazian writes about his trip there. It was gorgeously placed in the countryside, clean, and well organized. My favorite room was an underground cellar where Marco’s Belgian-style beer, Monasterium, matures to the sound of monastic chants. If I’d ever thought a place appropriate for meditation, this was it. So I am floating along on a peaceful high (and still taking copious notes), and then…Marco pulls out Vivre Pour Vivre, his not-for-sale Belgian-style beer masterpiece.

This beer is described really well in the same article so I am not certain what else to say about it, except that I downed two full glasses of it. Enough said. Finally, here was a beer that I could drink! And it wasn’t sugared! And…it’s not for sale. Sigh. In hindsight, that is probably a good thing because the last thing I need to add to my (already heavy) chocolate bandwagon is a beer. But I will take this chance to salute Marco on it.

After three days, all of which ended in bars that support the rapidly flourishing craft beer culture in Belo Horizonte, I was convinced that everyone in the city was either a beer maker or a beer drinker…or a beer author. I do realize this is a warped view, but I stand by it – every person I met usually ran his own brewery, either at home or professionally. Those who didn’t do, drank. Those who did drank too.

There is a lot more – it turns out some part of the city makes cachaça instead of beer. We visited a lovely cachaça facility, set in a green valley and appropriately called Vale Verde, about 40km from Belo Horizonte. But I’ll stop here for now and doff my hat to beer.

Beer. I am still not really a fan but I feel like I understand you better now. I am glad you are coming into your own as a craft product, a movement I fully support in all areas of food. And I promise to keep an open mind the next time I try you, just in case I encounter a commercial Vivre Pour Vivre!

P.S. Do watch this video and look for regional craft beers wherever you travel - you won’t regret the effort once you hear the wonderful stories they have to share.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

The Dubai conundrum

Why is it that regardless of where you may have grown up in the Middle East, most people (and I do mean most) remember it to be Dubai? Exceptions to this rule would be friends and family who grew up IN Kuwait and perhaps those who grew up in Dubai themselves (they remember you are not from there).

I have a couple of theories.

The first one is pretty simple - Dubai has just been in the news more than most cities or even countries in the Middle East. So if one doesn't think about the Middle East too often, Dubai may be the most accessible place (embedded in one's consciousness i.e.) and, therefore, the easiest to roll off the tongue.

Then there is the impression-you-make-on-people theory. In addition to just being in the news, Dubai has probably been there for more "good" reasons than other cities - the economy, the construction, the financing deals, and so on - the financial crisis nonwithstanding. Thus, if the person in question thinks of you in a positive light and knows you grew up in the Middle East, they make a mental connection to Dubai. This is inspite of you having mentioned Kuwait (more than once) and possibly even having discussed being there during the first Gulf War. If this is true, I wonder where they would think you were from if the light wasn't so flattering...Iraq?

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Turkey Day

Stuffed...but not with turkey. My third Thanksgiving at Marblehead has been as much fun as the second...and the first, except that I'm not leaving for Australia tomorrow (sigh). A real Thanksgiving definitely makes up for not being able to use the holiday (and the week around it) to take off...almost. Okay yeah, it does. This is just the itch to be on the road again speaking.

Back to the turkey. It was kosher this year so everyone could eat it. Me? I tried a bite. Great for a turkey (even for a bird) but I'm psychologically turned off birds now thanks to Mr. Pollan. I was never really on the four-legged critters and I'm sorry, I can't give up sushi (yes, that does make me a bit of a hypocrite in my support of sustainable, natural, free range/organic - call it what you will - rearing). That being said, I partake of the piscine species about once a month so I hope I'm not doing too much harm.

Still debating on where to go over New Year's eve...I might, unbelievably, stay in town and work on my composting and baking ideas. Vive la New York!

Monday, July 20, 2009

Things I've noticed...

...one thing in common about every place I've visited so far in Indonesia - everyone is pretty convinced you are not where you want to be. Regardless of whether you're strolling along the beach, going on a run, stepping off a shuttle into a new town, walking out of your hotel, even standing still watching the scenery - the question is "where are you going?" It's like they know something I don't.

...there are no dogs on Gili Trawangan. I agree - it's an odd thing to mention. But their absence is strangely magnified by the fact that there are goats, roosters and about a million cats (if not that many yet, there will be soon). No dogs.

...everything that can be fried, is. The strangest fried item I've seen so far is a fried boiled egg. First boiled, then dipped in batter and fried. I'm really not sure why.

Be back!

Friday, July 3, 2009

Bali - some things to write home about

So far, my week in Bali has ranged from encountering the strangest sights to the oddly familiar. Bali is a land of contrasts...for a tiny island that can be covered in one long day, it offers a multitude of experiences that can leave you reeling at the end of each day.

To begin with, there are the temples. 20,000 of them. On one tiny island. There are family temples placed within family courtyards, village temples where the entire village (and just that village) holds festivals (there are three subsets of temples here too), professional temples such as a fishermen temple, an artist temple and so on...and the major public temples that any Balinese person can visit. Outsiders, even Indonesians who are not from Bali, are often not allowed into many temples.

Then there are the volcanoes. Like NZ, Indonesia is built on and around them. Many of them are open to climb, sometimes uncomfortably close to when they last erupted - unlike NZ, where most if not all volcanoes that one can hike up blew up at least a 100 years ago. It is my intention to scale the highest volcano in Bali, Gunung Agung, when I get back from Java next week.

The one word I've heard most often in the last week is "Transport?" with just that ending. Every four people out of five are seemingly ready to push you into the closest available car and drive off into the horizon. Again, for a little island of its size, Bali has an incredible number of cars...and more people willing to arrange them for you.

And then...there is the food. Ah, this is a vegetarian's paradise. Tofu, tempeh, bean sprouts, spinach, cabbage, carrots...you name it, it's all here. Fresh and often covered in peanut sauce. The nut-allergic may suffer - as I found out in my cooking class yesterday, Base Gede, the basic spice mix used in almost every food, contains kemiri or candle nuts. Hard to avoid those even if you lay off the peanut sauce. But what a way to go...!

Highlights this week - a few days of blissful living at the Le Meridien Nirwana Resort in southwest Bali - MUCH appreciated after the last few months of dorm/bunkbed life (it even had a water slide from its top pool level to its bottom pool level!); watching the sunset at Pura Tanah Lot, one of the 9 or so large public temples in Bali; my 80 US cent Indonesian meal of Gado Gado (absolutely the best I've had so far and the price had nothing to do with it); biking through Balinese countryside exchanging high fives with little kiddies on the way, making a pretty neat bracelet in my silversmithing class, wandering through Ubud - Bali's arty town at all hours of the day, lunching at Sari Organik (address to be posted later) in the middle of rice paddy fields and finding some mind blowing chocolate at Casa Luna.

Next week in Java...to be continued.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Overheard in Bali...

...while heading out to Pura Tanah Lot, a seaside temple on the southwest coast of Bali. Little girl to dad after seeing a crowd taking pictures with a large snake - Daddy, what's the biggest snake in the world? Dad - My lawyer. Little girl - Miloya? How big is it?

Diving the Great Barrier Reef


Someone recently asked me my favorite part of this journey so far...and I realized I hadn't blogged about it. If I was to take any single experience on this trip and call it a favorite, it would have to be my 3 night/4 day live-aboard boat trip around the Great Barrier Reef.

This trip had it all...new friends among strangers half-crazy like I am, fabulous food by a dive trip director turned chef for this trip (he's also an ex-chef who once worked in NY), a very comfortable boat that wasn't the last word in luxury but somehow managed to stay clean and cosy despite us all running about it everyday...and what we were all there for - some pretty incredible diving.

One of the most important things about diving is learning to manage your air - as one may imagine, it's pretty important. You need to keep breathing in water - not too slow else you may pass out to become fish food and not too hard - or you'll be up before everyone else is halfway done with their dive. My problem was the latter...for some reason I hyperventilate underwater. It may be the sharks in the vicinity, then again, maybe I've always been a heavy breather and just not realized it on land. Of the various suggestions offered to me including adjusting my weight belt and kicking my legs harder, the one that really stands out is humming underwater. It seemed like a fun thing to do so there I was humming "Under the Sea" from The Little Mermaid as I swam through the fish...I also hoped to generate some kinship with them while doing so. My 20 minute dive time on 200 bar (when most people were doing 60 min) shot up to 45 minutes...no kidding. I remain forever grateful for that suggestion and I'm not changing my song.

Spotted underwater - turtles, sting ray, bandit fish (they really looked like they had black face masks), a lion fish (super poisonous and it knows it - hence, it just stays there while I hovered around it), reef sharks...one of our group tried to pull its tail but it wasn't having any of that, beautiful, fiery coral, enormous clams that changed through a blue to violet spectrum as I went closer and clammed up (pun intended) when I reached out to tickle it, a very curious snapper that kept butting in while we were doing our deep dive and snapped at John's finger...he suddenly went crazy trying to punch it while the rest of us wondered if he'd lost it..., enormous potato cod, barracudas, sea horse like creatures - and more.

What a trip.