It was a simple Saturday morning. Like most weekends, I felt the urge for a good breakfast, and my mind did a quick rolodex shuffle of the type of breakfast I wanted to have. Should I go for the spicy corned beef hash at Easy Street? Or perhaps a trip to Cafe Campagne for their Oeufs en Meurette? No. No. What I wanted was the Eggs Santa Fe that Blackbird used to serve.

Oh.

Yeah.

Used to.

Blackbird had closed about six months earlier. There would be no Eggs Santa Fe on this day.

Perhaps I am over dramatizing how this scene played out in my head, but only just a little. Following restaurants over a long period of time means that some of your favorite places will cease to be. Restaurants close. This is simply the way of the world.

But there is a bit of sadness to this. We form emotional attachments to places. Whether it was the ice cream place that our parents took us to when we were kids, the restaurant where we had our first date with the person we would eventually marry, or even the place that served a delicious meal that no one else offered, these places come to mean something to us.

And when they're gone? We're allowed a brief moment to lament, but not much more. For some, this is all the time that is needed. But for others? All I know is that I still miss restaurants long closed. I'm not grieving per se, but I do have a sense of loss. It's a damn shame that these places are gone.

For this thread, feel free to add your restaurant that you miss, with why it was important to you. Perhaps it was they made the best french fries, and now you can't find anyone who can make them as well. Or perhaps it was because it was the restaurant your Dad took you to on your graduation. Regardless, now's your chance to lift a metaphorical glass to them and toast their passing.

Bock is a type of strong lager beer, first brewed in the 14th century in the Hanseatic town of Einbeck, Germany, from which it gets its name (originally "Einbeck" / "Einbock").

Wikipedia will probably get a failing grade in history on this subject. While Einbeck did have a brewing tradition that goes back a ways, the beer that we recognize today as 'Bock' would have been unrecognizable back then. For one, bocks are lagers, and lagering was more a process found in the Alpine region, rather than in the Saxony region back in the 1300's. Second, the malts used in today's bocks are more Bavarian based. This seems to me that the history of this beer is likely (although I may be wrong) to be Bavarian based.

A more likely history seems to be found here. Bock beer is the Bavarian attempt to recreate beer from Einbeck, rather than being from Einbeck. As Ray Daniels explains:

Although the Munich copy of the Einbeck beer bore little resemblance to the original, the resulting beer was still named after the city that inspired it. In the Bavarian dialect, it was called "Ainpoeckish Pier." The beer was enjoyed by the citizens of Munich and soon replaced the original. Not long after, brewing ceased in Einbeck as a result of the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648) and the name of the Munich-produced beer no doubt began to drift from "Ainpoeckish" to simply "Poeck" and ultimately to the "Bock" we know today.

But, as Daniels also notes, there are as many stories revolving around the creation of Bock beer as there are beer drinkers in Munich. So, what truly happened may be yet to have been uncovered.

What we do know is that Bock beer is traditionally brewed in the fall, concurrent with the harvesting of the fall barley crop. It is allowed to lager most of the winter, and becomes available for drink around March-April, depending upon the whim of the brewer.

When you think Bock beer, think malt, malt, malt. It is not a beer for hopheads. Because of the amount of malt used, the resulting wort ends up with a fair bit of more sugars than other beers, resulting in a higher alcohol content after fermentation. So if malt is the first characteristic of bock beer, a higher alcoholic content would be the second.

Legend has it that Doppelbock was the work of monks from the Order of Saint Francis of Paula that had settled in the Munich area. When trying to find a beverage that they could consume while fasting, they created a derivative of the bock style of beer that seemed fuller and richer to the palate. It was as close as liquid bread as they could get.

The brewery founded by these monks? That'd be the Paulaner brewery.

So, while bocks are malty and high in alochol content, doppelbocks can have those same characteristics, with the added benefit of having darker colors and deeper flavors. The brewers out there will know that doppelbocks differ from bocks by having an original gravity of no lower than 1.074, but for you non-brewers out there, it's not required knowledge.

And Eisbocks? Think concentrated Doppelbock, and you'll have a good idea of what it's supposed to taste like. The recipes for Eisbocks traditionally revolve around freezing off some of the water found in Doppelbocks, leaving behind an even deeper malty flavor.

Other bock variants? There are Maibocks (a variant of Bock beers released in May, lighter than traditional bocks), Weisenbocks (Wheat bocks), Weizendoppelbocks (Wheat doppelbocks), and Weisenneisbocks (Wheat ice bock). For the purposes of the BJCP, one should focus on the Maibock, Bock, Doppelbock, and Eisbock. Wheat beers should be judged under different criteria.

This Austrian beer falls under the doppelbock category, although it seems a tad light in coloring for me to fully believe that.

I was going to use this review to help explain what constitute both a bock beer and a doppelbock, but it started running far longer than I had anticipated. I'll post this information tomorrow instead. For now, let me simply review the beer itself.

Appearance: Gold/Orange coloring. Translucent, with a light head, off white and yellow tint, that lasts all of maybe five minutes. Seems rather light for a doppelbock.

Smell: Lots of malt, and a hint of citrus. No hops to be found in the smell.

Taste: a bit more savory than sweet up front, although sweetness comes on soon enough. Nice malt taste, with what feels like a hint of smoke in the mix. The finish lasts a long while, which is pleasant, and there is a bit of hops here. Not much, but enough for it to make you aware.

Mouthfeel: It doesn't zip on the palate, and, quite frankly, seems a bit lifeless. But it's not bad per se, it's just not making an impression. Light carbonation, and a slight creamy texture if you want to know.

Drinkabilty: It's a good beer. Not a great one, but a good one. The coloring seems a bit off, and it didn't jump off of the palate liked I hoped. But thr flavor makes up of the mouthfeel a fair amount.

Rating: B

Come meet up with the rest of us at Cafe Vivace on Thursday, July 9, from 7pm to 9pm (That'd be today). Address:

227 Yale Ave
Seattle, WA 98109

This is the one across the street from REI.

It's the simplest of all of Tara and my criteria for a restaurant to be great: Can you make an exceptional calamari?

Sure, sure, there are other aspects we look at. Certainly the quality of the decor comes into question, as well as how delicious the other foods ordered and consumed happen to be. But if the restaurant can't deliver an exceptional calamari, the restaurant will always appear to us as lacking something.

Our theory is this - if a place cannot be bothered to put time and effort into making a simple appetizer an exceptional piece of work, then they're not quite ready to play with the big boys.

Calamari is possible the easiest food to judge. When it's bad, it's readily apparent. Good calamari is often modest and easily forgotten. Great calamari is still easy to prepare, but makes us want to come back to the place again and again. (For the record, if you want to impress me, calamari is best pan fried in olive oil with a hit of sea salt and a dash of lemon, and most critical, the correct amount of time in the pan. We've only come across one great calamari hat has been breaded. But I digress.)

I've heard other people's litmus tests for restaurants, and each is as different as the individual who applies them. Some look to see if breads or desserts are made on site. Others look at the simple house salad. Still others look to the cleanliness of the restrooms. Fail these tests, and it's unlikely that the restaurants in question will be recommended to others.

From the point of the view of the restaurateur, trying to meet everyone's litmus test is a lost battle. You can't please everyone. But still, there's logic to many of these tests. What separates a good restaurant from a great one is attention to theses same details that seem a bit anal retentive from other people's point of view.

There is a term that most of us are familiar with that deals with all of these litmus tests - Quality Control. The issue here, as always, is that there is no one definition of quality. And sometimes quality is affected by seemingly unrelated variables, such as cost.

But these litmus tests still exist. Many of us have them, these little nagging variables that we look at. A restaurateur addresses them or dismisses them at their own risk.

Note: For places without calamari on the menu, Tara and I look for other things to note, as we don't expect every place to have it. We're not squid fundamentalists after all.

I tend to think a fair amount of the food world, and my place in it. I also read a fair amount of food blogs and magazines, and the conclusion I have reached is that there are some topics that others talk about that leave me scratching my head, wondering "How is this at all relevant to me or the food community at large?" Here are some of those items which you will read precious little of on this site.

• The World's Largest (fill in the blank with some sort of food item): It's not that I don't applaud the folks who typically look to get themselves in a record book of some sorts, it's just that it ceased to be appealing to me after the age of 13. It's novel, I agree. But trying to fit it into the larger context of the food world? I don't see how it's relevant.
• The World's most expensive (fill in the blank with some sort of food item): Most of these items tend to be nothing more than PR stunts, and unoriginal ones at that. And part of me believes that there's nothing more gaudy than sucking down a martini with diamond garnish or eating a sundae with gold flakes. It's wealth for the sake of wealth, and again, I don't see how it's relevant to the food world at large. Although it does speak volumes about the restaurants and promoters who pimp these menu items.
• Top Chef and other shows of their ilk: I know that I'm likely to be a minority in this opinion, but I feel that shows such as these feed the celebrity culture rather than our food culture. While the chefs featured all likely have skills in the kitchen in one form or another, it's just as likely that you or I can find a chef equal to their skill in our own city who don't feel the need to be on television. While I think it's great that some of these chefs see some success in the restaurant business, being put on T.V. doesn't mean that they are better than those who don't make it in the cast.
• PR Flacks: This one is a tough one. I know that there are decent PR folks out there. I've worked with several. But for every good one who is honest and trustworthy, there's a dozen more who are trying to tell you that Pizza Cones are the most revolutionary items to come on the market in the past one hundred years, or that Ice Water in a Box is a marketable idea whose time has come. If there's a hell, these folks are sure to have front row seats.
• Zagat-junkies: You know these folks - they're the ones who swear by Zagat/Chowhound/Newspaper Reviewers. They're the ones who go to restaurants that are highly rated by media outlets without exploring other, lesser known places. They go to these places, not actually to enjoy the food, but rather to either a) claim to be "in the know", or b) to be seen at the latest and greatest reviewed place. The flaw in their thinking is that if they're always going to the latest and greatest, then they'll never give the little guy the chance, nor will they ensure that the places that they've stated they loved before will be able to stick around when the next Zagat book or New York Times review comes out.
• Eating contests: Otherwise known as competitive eating, I'm still of the belief that these events are mere novelties. They speak more about the competitors (and their followers) than about the foods they consume. In my opinion, the Rock, Paper, Scissor League has more credibility.
• Trend Setters: Let me clarify this a bit. When I say "Trend Setters" what I mean to say is anyone who believes that they are the ultimate authority about what is in and out of fashion in the food world. Anyone who writes something along the lines of "Beets are in this year" or "Vanilla is the new Chocolate" is guilty of this. While I think that it's laudable that magazines and websites can give press to lesser known and lesser used products, I feel that there are some who feel as if the world would jump if they snapped their fingers. This, from my perspective, runs contrary to what makes the food world so great. There is a special joy when we, as individuals, discover something new on our own. Dictating taste is the opposite of that joy. And yes, I'm sure I've been guilty of this.

There. I feel a bit better. Now get the hell off of my lawn.

...we took on domestic canned beers in search of the perfect brew for a holiday weekend cookout. We were looking for one with broad appeal, one that people could enjoy all day in the afternoon sun and one that was cheap. How cheap? My only rule was that each individual beer had cost less than $1, or no more than $6 a six-pack.

This was a blind tasting, with beers served in unmarked cups. Participants were asked to rate the beer on a scale of 1 to 5 on the overall taste -- this was relative, given the quality of beer -- and a separate score of 1 to 5 based on how refreshing the beer would feel on a hot summer day.

Out the reviews, this one for Bud Light came up as my favorite: "Very refreshing, due to the complete lack of flavor". That pretty much sums up Bud Light for me as well, except for the refreshing part.

The ratings for the six beers went as follows:

1. National Bohemian
2. Miller High Life
3. Pabst Blue Ribbon
4. Bud Light
5. Schaefer
6. Schlitz

Being the curious sort, I wondered what the rest of the beer world thought of these brands. There are two website I visit that allow for anyone (and I mean ANYONE) to provide beer reviews. Think of them as Web 2.0 sites for hopheads.
These are ratebeer.com and beeradvocate.com
. Here's their take on the same six beers.

rateabeer.com

1. National Bohemian = 2.12
2. Pabst Blue Ribbon = 1.79
3. Schlitz = 1.78
4. Miller High Life = 1.64
5. Schaefer = 1.62
6. Bud Light = 1.16

BeerAdvocate.com

1. Schlitz = 3.03
2. Pabst Blue Ribbon = 2.98
3. National Bohemian = 2.87
4. Miller High Life = 2.84
5. Schaefer = 2.6
6. Bud Light = 1.9

Now granted, people use different criteria to judge beers, and almost everyone carries with them their own biases. That being said, there are some patterns here.

One, we can probably conclude that Natty Bo is better than Bud Light.

Two, we can probably conclude that Bud Light doesn't rate high on anyone's list.

Finally, the other beers are sort of all over the place, at least when compared amongst themselves. Part of me wonders what would have happened if the folks at Getting out Guru had put in, say, a bottle of beer that is similar in style to those above, but generally held in higher regard. Would the differences be stark or minor? My belief that, as with anything, you get what you pay for. And in the end, you may find a good cheap beer, but you will rarely find a great cheap beer.

New restaurants almost inevitably have kinks to work out when they first open. That’s why the guidelines for professional restaurant critics say to wait at least a few weeks before visiting. The experience diners have that first week is probably not the same one they’ll have later.

But people want to eat at new restaurants regardless in those exciting first days. A few years ago, curious food-lovers would rely on writeups on forums like eGullet and MouthfulsFood to get an early look at what was working and what was not. And now, for better or worse, those first glances are being broadcast to a larger, viral audience, able to follow the meals even as they’re happening. Like anything else involving social media, it’s a work in progress.

We've had these discussions before in the restaurant world, mostly about the evils of Yelp. The consensus amongst the foodies I know is that these sort of places have, at best, limited value. Questions about the experience of the reviewers, mixed in with restaurants actively courting positive reviews make such websites nothing more than a starting point when in unknown locales. In the end,when it comes to choosing a restaurant ,nothing beats listening to those you trust, whether they're a close friend or a well established food critic.

Ironically, I've seen many of these same people who take this position rush to a restaurant on opening night and , as Rebekah noted , twitter first hand details of the meal. In essence they're providing micro-reviews of a restaurant.

Well, maybe they are not "reviews" as much as first-hand accounts of their experiences. But do the readers of these tweets make that distinction?

There are two point here which I find curious. One, these technologies are not going away. As much as some of us can lament the lose of nuance and (what is best defined as) "professional courtesy", it doesn't change the fact that people are going to use twitter at a restaurant, and provide immediate firsthand reviews on their tweet feeds and yelp entries. It is in the restaurants best interest to manage this by what ever means available.

Secondly, those of us doing the lamenting, it is possible that we're overselling the problem and underestimating the people. Part of me believes that most people understand that twitter streams coming from a restaurant on opening night are to be taken with a grain of salt. Most people, I believe, understand that yelp reviews are rarely in depth.

I believe the reality is that most people who actually give a damn about in-depth, highly nuanced reviews will seek out several inputs of information before choosing to go to a new restaurant, and filter that information accordingly.

But the reality is that most people don't read food reviews, or head to eGullet, or follow food blogs. Those making their decisions solely off of review(s) on Yelp or off a twitter stream were never the market for restaurant reviewers in the first place.

The rest of us will just have to find a way to deal with that fact.

In other words, if you are sitting taking notes on your drink when you could be hanging with friends, or listening to your favorite album, or sitting on the back porch watching the sunset, then you're doing it wrong.

This, by the way, is the subtext of Hans Offringa's books on the topic A Taste of Whisky and Whisky & Jazz. His beautiful books evoke, not just a sense of place, but almost a sense of purpose. Whether it's having several different chefs explain the thought processes of creating a menu based off of different whiskies, or detailing why which whisky goes best with which jazz legend, what Hans does is expand the whisky world beyond that of Scotch clubs and whisky forums. What he is telling the readers is that Whisky isn't to be tasted as much as it's to be enjoyed.

This is how it should be. Because when one gets right down to it, whisky is a tool, a device used make our lives just a little better. But oh, what a device it is.

Mr. Offringa's books are chock full of brilliant photography that help define the sense of his purpose. The glossy veneer of the book, and the beautiful graphics within practically dare you to not leave the book on your coffee table. Admittedly I am a fan of any book which allows me to point at pictures and say "I've been there!", so take my praises of glossy photos with a bit of salt.

If you're looking for another whiskey book, let me highly recommend both A Taste of Whisky and Whisky & Jazz.

Hymn to Ninkasi

Borne of the flowing water,
Tenderly cared for by the Ninhursag,
Borne of the flowing water,
Tenderly cared for by the Ninhursag,

Having founded your town by the sacred lake,
She finished its great walls for you,
Ninkasi, having founded your town by the sacred lake,
She finished it's walls for you,

Your father is Enki, Lord Nidimmud,
Your mother is Ninti, the queen of the sacred lake.
Ninkasi, your father is Enki, Lord Nidimmud,
Your mother is Ninti, the queen of the sacred lake.

You are the one who handles the dough [and] with a big shovel,
Mixing in a pit, the bappir with sweet aromatics,
Ninkasi, you are the one who handles the dough [and] with a big shovel,
Mixing in a pit, the bappir with [date] - honey,

You are the one who bakes the bappir in the big oven,
Puts in order the piles of hulled grains,
Ninkasi, you are the one who bakes the bappir in the big oven,
Puts in order the piles of hulled grains,

You are the one who waters the malt set on the ground,
The noble dogs keep away even the potentates,
Ninkasi, you are the one who waters the malt set on the ground,
The noble dogs keep away even the potentates,

You are the one who soaks the malt in a jar,
The waves rise, the waves fall.
Ninkasi, you are the one who soaks the malt in a jar,
The waves rise, the waves fall.

You are the one who spreads the cooked mash on large reed mats,
Coolness overcomes,
Ninkasi, you are the one who spreads the cooked mash on large reed mats,
Coolness overcomes,

You are the one who holds with both hands the great sweet wort,
Brewing [it] with honey [and] wine
(You the sweet wort to the vessel)
Ninkasi, (...)(You the sweet wort to the vessel)

The filtering vat, which makes a pleasant sound,
You place appropriately on a large collector vat.
Ninkasi, the filtering vat, which makes a pleasant sound,
You place appropriately on a large collector vat.

When you pour out the filtered beer of the collector vat,
It is [like] the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates.
Ninkasi, you are the one who pours out the filtered beer of the collector vat,
It is [like] the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates.