Let's Talk About Beer: Evil Twin - Fire Water

I have a few loves in my life. First and foremost my family. But a close second and third are beer and spicy hot food. And at least those two don't hide my car keys after they finish eating dinner in their high-chair.

Most times when it comes to beer and that kind of heat, if you are enjoying them both it is as two separate elements. Beer and BBQ. Beer and hot wings. Beer and some crazy-ass Thai dish that feels like it's burning a hole right through your tongue.

But sometimes the most enjoyable way to consume beer and heat is as a cohesive, single beverage. One of my favorites was the Stone 11.11.11 Vertical Epic Ale which used anaheim chiles and cinnamon. Now anaheim chiles are not all that hot, so the 11.11.11 was mild but quite enjoyable. On the other end, also from Stone, was Punishment. The heat in that was akin to a nuclear blast and such that you needed another beer at the same time to quell the heat.

I don't find that quite as enjoyable. With beer, the only thing I enjoy in an "overpowering" fashion is hops. When you allow outside flavors to completely take over a beer, I feel like you lose part of what makes beer so enjoyable. The real trick with heat (or anything extra) when it comes to beer is to have one complement the other. That goes for fruit, bourbon barrel aging, whatever.

Which brings me to Evil Twin Brewery and their new release called Fire Water. If you aren't familiar with Evil Twin, it's a gypsy brewery started in Copenhagen, Denmark by Jeppe Jarnit-Bjergsø, who has since moved to Brooklyn. If the name Bjergsø sounds familiar, it's because Jeppe has a twin brother Mikkel. Mikkel Borg Bjergso runs Mikkeller. Oh, and because they hate one another.

Fire Water is a pale ale that has had jalapeno peppers added. Now, that may sound intimidating to some but you have to remember that the jalapeno isn't that much hotter than the anaheim chili. So you aren't talking about tear-inducing heat with this beer.

The first taste is that of any finely-crafted pale ale. And then the jalapeno hits. But it's interesting; the jalapeno gives you a hint of sweetness at first. That tails into a heat that isn't overwhelming at all. It lingers on the back of your tongue and while you notice it, it is not an unpleasant sensation. Even as it builds over drinking the bottle, it never reaches a point where it becomes uncomfortable.

Jeppe has really found the right balance with Fire Water. You notice the heat, but it never overwhelms the beer or the experience of drinking the beer. Which is the problem I had with Punishment. This is a good beer to drink while relaxing in the shade on a summer's day or while eating a burger. Or just because you like good beer.

Fire Water is a limited release. So if you can find it, buy it.

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Beer: Evil Twin Fire Water

ABV: 5.5%

Style: Pale Ale / Chile

Price: Between $10 - $12 for a 22 oz. bottle

Recommendation: Strong Buy

Review: Time Bandits (1981)

“God isn't interested in technology. He cares nothing for the microchip or the silicon revolution. Look how he spends his time, forty-three species of parrots! Nipples for men!” – Evil Genius (David Warner)

Director: Terry Gilliam

Writers: Terry Gilliam and Michael Palin

Producers: George Harrison, Denis O'Brien, Terry Gilliam and Neville C. Thompson

Studio: HandMade Films

Major Stars: David Rappaport, Sean Connery, Ian Holm, John Cleese, Michael Palin, Katherine Helmond, Shelley Duvall, David Warner, Kenny Baker, Ralph Richardson, Craig Warnock

There are few directors that take more risks than Terry Gilliam. He is uncompromising in what he wants to show and how to show it. His films reward careful viewing and punish the lazy movie-goer. If you only watch Time Bandits with a casual eye, you'll miss out on an unique sci-fi film that is loads of fun to watch.

Gilliam tackles a theme no less than the evils of modernization. From the get-go, we see our protagonist, 10-year old Kevin (Warnock), ignored by his parents because they are obsessed with their television or the latest kitchen gadgets. Kevin is a dreamer, who reads books about ancient Greece and the Middle Ages. After a bizarre dream, he stays awake to see if it was a dream. Instead, a gang of dwarfs fall out of his closet.

They are on the run from the Supreme Being because they stole his map. A map that shows holes in time and space that one can use to travel anywhere. And when the Supreme Being finds them, Kevin joins them as they flee. Gilliam sets all this up in less than 10 minutes, which is how a film should work. It's amazing how many films screw around for 20-30 minutes before they get to the story itself.

The dwarfs are led by Randall (Rappaport). They worked for the Supreme Being until he demoted them, so they stole the map and decided to commit robberies in different times to become rich. Kevin is looking for something else; a father figure that pays attention to him. As they travel through time, they meet various people like Napoleon (Holm), Agamemnon (Connery) and, unfortunately for them, the Evil Genius (Warner). He wants the map to break free from his castle and destroy the Supreme Being, so he tries to lure the group to his castle that is stuck in the Time of Legends.

It's no mistake that Kevin finds the father figure he wants in Agamemnon; it's the time period in the movie most removed from modern technology. Just as it is no mistake that the Evil Genius is obsessed with technology. Gilliam makes the case that technology binds us and denies us our freedom and he hits that theme throughout the movie. Even the ending, as abrupt, shocking and arguably cruel as it is, is about liberating ourselves from technology and embracing the freedom our minds can provide.

There are parts of the film that are genuinely hilarious. Napoleon is obsessed with the height of great military leaders. Warner plays the Evil Genius so well that every scene with him gets a laugh or two. Ralph Richardson, as the Supreme Being, steals the end of the movie with his portrayal of the Almighty as a slightly absent-minded but all-powerful bureaucrat.

The Right and Wrong Way To Make Cider

For all that America loves her beer - and we do - cider was in many ways our national beverage back in the day. With water as likely to give you dysentery as hydrate you, cider was a safe drinking alternative in the early days of our nation. It wasn't until the waves of immigration in the 19th Century - where the newly-minted Americans came from regions in Europe that preferred beer - that cider slowly fell into relative obscurity.

That has changed recently, however. Hard cider is making a big comeback. And the ingenuity that small and micro-breweries have applied to beer is also being applied to cider making.

A good example of this new cider revival is Bantam Cider out of Somerville, MA. They make three ciders right now. The one I had is called Rojo. It is a simple cider, made with only four ingredients: apples, ale yeast, sour cherries and peppercorns. It is, without a doubt, one of the most delicious beverages, let alone ciders, that I have ever had.

It is crisp like a cider should be, but with a touch of sour cherry and a hint of spice at the end. You could drink this with dinner or watching the game. I really cannot recommend it enough. Not only because of the taste or because we should support small breweries/cideries*/distilleries (Which we should). It's also important because of the lack of crap in the ingredients.

As a comparison, here is a label from Johnny Appleseed Cider. This brand is owned by Anheuser-Busch, so you can probably see where this is going.

Dextrose AND Sucrose. Call me old-fashioned, but I have always felt that if you have to add sugar to your cider, you're doing it wrong. Yes, I understand that adding sugar ups the alcohol content. You know what else does? Honey. Maybe this is a personal objection more than anything else, but throwing all that sugar into cider is simply not appealing to me. A good, natural cider (like Bantam's Rojo) will hit 5-6% all on its own because of the natural sugars in the apples. Which is plenty good for a bottle of cider. If you want to get ripped, maybe a pint of Majorska vodka is what you're looking for.

And what, exactly, is "flavor"? How is "flavor" an ingredient? I honestly don't know this, so I went to the FDA site to see what "flavor" actually is. Here is their answer:

Movie Review: On the Beach (1959)

“Who would ever have believed that human beings would be stupid enough to blow themselves off the face of the Earth?” – Julian Osborne (Fred Astaire)

Director: Stanley Kramer

Writers: Nevil Shute (novel), John Paxton (screenplay)

Producer: Stanley Kramer

Studio: United Artists (later bought by MGM)

Major Stars: Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, Anthony Perkins, Fred Astaire

When I re-watched On the Beach, I was struck by the similarity in theme with another movie on this list: Children of Men. Both, through different disasters, deal in part with how humanity would face a slow, inevitable end. Children of Men used the concept of global infertility while On the Beach used approaching lethal radiation from a nuclear war. But while Children ended with a guarded up-beat ending, On the Beach gives the viewer no such comfort.

The story, adapted from Nevil Shute’s novel of the same name, is a simple one. Nuclear war has irradiated the Northern Hemisphere and killed everyone there. As the radiation moves south, the only pockets of humanity left are in Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and the southern extreme of South America. In the film, though, only Australia is mentioned as still having a human population.

An American sub, the USS Sawfish is stationed in Melbourne under the command of Captain Dwight Towers (Peck). When a mysterious Morse code is detected coming from America, Towers is ordered to determine who is sending the signal. That story is the spine of a larger tale; how a society handles its inevitable end.

It’s probably the most civilized “end-of-civilization” movie ever made. With few exceptions, people face their end with dignity, lining up to receive their suicide pills (also a shared idea with Children of Men) rather than face a painful death from radiation. The pills tie into the most poignant tale in the movie, that of Peter Holmes (Perkins). He’s an Australian naval officer with a young daughter and wife. When he leaves with the American crew to determine the source of the signal, he has to teach his wife how to kill the baby and herself if the radiation comes while he is gone. It’s heartbreaking to watch as his wife recoils at the idea. Ever more heartbreaking is near the film’s end when they accept the inevitable.

When you consider that this film was made in 1959, at the height of the Cold War, it took a lot of guts to make a film like On the Beach. It is unflinching in its condemnation of nuclear weapons and the testing of them. That is what society was debating at the time; the atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons. Put into that context the film takes on even more weight.

Bye-Bye Bourbon?

Before you think I have lost my mind or have decided to start drinking clear alcohol, hear me out.

The odious asshat pictured at the top of the page is Indiana Governor Mike Pence. He is a not-very-smart man. He recently proved this by signing a bill into law which, under the rubric of "religious freedom", allows for discrimination on the basis of religious belief. Not surprisingly, a lot of the country is calling this bullshit out.

The snark in me wants to say the best way to protest this would be for companies in Indiana that are opposed to this law to use it to refuse service to right-wing Christians. Because they always seem to be shocked that a good portion of their poorly-written laws can be used against them.

But no. There is another way. That dovetails nicely with a pet peeve of mine.

When it comes to booze, I am a stickler for truth. If you say your scotch is aged 12 years, it damn well better be 12. If you say your beer has three different kinds of hops, you best not be lying about it.

And if you are going to say your bourbon is "hand-crafted" like you spent a decade+ making it? Well, you had better be telling the truth.

That is where Lawrenceburg, Indiana and MGP enter the story.

Lawrenceburg, Indiana (not to be confused with bourbon-locale Lawrenceburg, Kentucky) is home to a massive brick complex that cranks out mega-industrial quantities of beverage-grade alcohol. The factory, once a Seagram distillery, has changed hands over the decades and was most recently acquired by food-ingredient corporation MGP. It is now a one-stop shop for marketers who want to bottle their own brands of spirits without having to distill the product themselves.

Their products are well-made, but hardly what one thinks of as artisanal. And yet, much of the whiskey now being sold as the hand-crafted product of micro-distilleries actually comes from this one Indiana factory.

I encourage you to read the whole piece as it is quite enlightening. And you can also find out the companies that use MGP as their source of whiskey. And then stretch the truth about where it comes from. And there are some big names on there as well, like W.H. Harrison Bourbon, Breaker Bourbon and Hooker's House.

So you have a state wanting to legalize discrimination in the name of God (which I personally think He is not cool with, BTW) and that same state housing the source of a lot of whiskey-laced lies. What to do, what to do, what to do...