Gregory M. Dew
Musings on Art, Film, Culture, Food and Drink
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Nosh - the neighborhood bistro
Thursday, December 9, 2010
O'Fallon's Cherry Chocolate Beer
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
1904 World's Fair
The museum has a continuing exhibit commemorating the centennial of the 1904 World’s Fair held in St. Louis. The exhibition celebrated “Looking Back at Looking Forward” and took the city years to prepare for the visit from the world. Buildings and entire neighborhoods were constructed. Public sculptures commissioned, marketing thrown into overdrive. All of it was done to show the world how modern St. Louis and the rest of America was becoming. It was a show that has become etched in the collective mind of this country. It was a show that launched the world into the American Century.
All of which makes a lot of the artifacts from the show rather disconcerting. Countless pictures and paintings were commissioned, and now on display, that depict the model of perfection. It is easy to imagine the event as representing a “city on a hill.” But look closely. Not at the pictures of the natives living their happy lives, those pictures are far too easy to critique. No, look at the magnificent sculptures towering in those pictures. Now walk over to the display of the now ruined sculptures, the mass produced composite moldings that were not meant to last but meant to be an impressive façade. Those sculptures gave grand appearances to new buildings that had been built for the exposition. They were there in the photographs but not long after as many were torn down almost immediately after the fair. So much unnecessary waste, what have we learned.
To be sure, the World’s Fair did leave a lasting mark on St. Louis. What was built for the exhibition that still remains adds to a magnificent city. But it contributed to a culture with some very bad habits. In many ways America is a “city on a hill” with a false façade. Our American Century has been terribly wasteful; we constructed symbols of envy but did not build them to last. We are still a transient society, one magnificent to experience. But if we still build things to crumble, how long will it all last?
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Square One Brewery
Square One brews absolutely amazing beers. That is a plain and simple description for beverages that are anything but plain and simple. Other simple words have been bantered about the table are best ever. Lofty words that may or not be a stretch. No doubt there are some amazing beers out there that can lay claim to that title, but honestly, none better come to mind than what Square One offers. Of the brews sampled, all were without exception, full of flavor and smooth, with a clean and perfect finish.
The first taste was of a flavor that usually finishes a meal. The Pumpkin Ale is described by Square One as pumpkin pie in a glass, which is actually a disservice to the ale. That standard Thanksgiving dessert conjures thoughts of a thick, pudding-like consistency that finishes off a glutinous feast you'll take a week to recover from. This Ale, though a fine topper for any meal, is as crisp as can be imagined. Flows like a light beer but with the honest to god flavor of a real beer. This is no b.s. flavor-promise most light beers try to sell you on, but flavors worthy of giving thanks. Pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg come balanced but won't linger, putting this brew in the upper crust of all Pumpkin Ales on the market.
Taking a step back on the color prism but giving no quarter to taste was Square One's Spicy Blond. This Belgian Ale could have been a girl named Ginger, dancing to U2's album, "Zooropa". There is no doubt "she wore lemon," while causing those ginger and lemongrass flavors to blend so beautifully that, "she's going to make you cry."
With senses and emotions engaged, the Square One IPA is an invitation to properly approach the inherent citrus of hops. Like you'd savor a sip of vintage wine, get your nose in the glass and take in the aroma before putting the ale to your lips. Hold the beer for a moment and let the memory of that inhalation engage with your taste buds, revel as a sweet and bitter grapefruit blooms in ways few IPAs are ever able to produce. It is a magical moment.
You know Square One is a enchanted place when you realize it is also a micro-distillery. While a review of their spirits will have to wait for a later post, they did make an appearance in the Scotch Ale. They smoke the malt themselves to make their whiskey and thereby ensuring this is a craft-beer experience not to be missed.
Of course what nobody should ever miss or skip is a beer that would go oh so well with the most important meal of the day, breakfast. Square One's Maple Stout would feel right at home dripping down the sides of any adult's short stack. Yet the beer isn't even remotely sweet. It is a flavor profile that will baffle your taste buds should they be engaged first thing in the morning or at the end of the day as cold Vermont winter winds begin to blow and something is needed to warm the soul.
There are plenty of other varieties of beers that will necessitate many a return visit, as will the selection of house-distilled spirits. Best is a tough label to assign, but Square One is as good as it gets. There are certainly very few breweries that can do it better.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The Spirit of St. Louis
Have you heard the story of Pearl Curran? The 20th-century housewife who channeled a 17th-century spirit? She was of, and is, St. Louis. She lived in the early 1900s, when the gateway to the West was a growing, bustling metropolis. But she had a tie to America’s uncertain past. The spirit she channeled went by the name of Patience Worth, a supposed spinster from the late 1600s. Through Curran’s Ouija board, Worth would convey instances of her dangerous, abrupt life and dictate stories she never got to humanly compose. The women were bound and tied by societal constraints in two different ages of opportunity. Worth’s America was still in its defining infancy. Curran’s was in the infancy of what in the coming decades would come to be known as the “American Century”. Their singular story was one of a soaring success tied to the past but with no place to go but down.
In a way, St. Louis has never been able to exorcise itself from the story of Curran and Worth. It is a city whose past and present coexist in its precarious current reality. It has a glorious literary history that has been visited by the specter of one of America’s great living writers. It is a region obsessed with America’s pastime even while that pastime falls further and further behind America’s sporting passion. It is home to the great American beer, which is now owned by a foreign corporation. The city gave rise to various pioneers of American music and is now bustling with the music of the streets, chronicling the deadly decent prosperity has taken. Its famous arch is a portal to the past, present and future, a portal to opportunity and decay; it is a portal to America.
St. Louis was once the fourth largest city in the country but has now slipped to the 52nd largest city, although the sprawling metropolitan area is much larger. Literature has helped define the area’s rise and descent. Adding to the supernatural literary echo has included Mark Twain, who grew up in the region as Samuel Clemons. He has almost singularly ensured this area will always have a major role in the telling of the American story. Other major contributors have included T.S. Eliot, Tennessee Williams, and Maya Angelou. And about halfway down that decent from four to 52, another son of the Midwest, novelist Jonathan Franzen, set his debut novel, “The 27th City” in St. Louis and observed, “for too long, our officers have accepted the idea that their mission is merely to ensure that St. Louis deteriorates in the most orderly way possible”.
That deterioration has been constant since the height of St. Louis’ ascent and has been echoed all across the country. Infrastructure the country over has been failing and is in desperate need of reinvention. Even in the best of times, poverty has been rampant. Today, St. Louis has a violent reputation nationally. Its arts reflect desperate lives in the shadow of progress. Hip Hop has a strong foothold here, famously producing the rapper Nelly. At other times it has spit out deities such as the Rock and Roll pioneer Chuck Berry and the jazz luminary Miles Davis. In the face of blight, St. Louis has consistently helped redefine itself, its culture, and consistently redefined what it means to be American.
We are now at the dawn of a new age of reinvention, perhaps best illustrated by what has happened to the great American beer, Budweiser. In 2008, Anheuser Busch was purchased by the Belgian company Inbev, bringing globalization fully to doorstep of St. Louis. It is a move mirrored the country and world over. It is causing the confrontation of what it means to have local pride when a foreign company is a major employer of St. Louis workers. Is Budweiser still the great American lager? What constitutes American made anymore? Is it better to eschew the macro-brews that have long been dominant in the name of micro-brews like the Square One, Shlafly and O’Fallon Breweries that now populate the area? What does that mean for the American worker?
Through all of these reinventions that have been documented in St. Louis, the one constant has seemingly been the St. Louis Cardinals. Even in an era when football dominates the nation’s sports scene, baseball holds an enduring spot in the hearts of this region. Some of the greatest players in baseball have called this area home. The Cardinals have been had their history illuminated by the Gashouse Gang; they have seen the Man and the Machine and have visited the Wizard of Oz. It is a love affair that has spanned the written word, been served a tall cold one, and has danced “The Duck Walk” to ragtime jazz. It has endured.
This is the St. Louis to be explored over the coming months. There is a “Spirit of St. Louis” that is felt today because it is being channeled from a magnificent past. The “Gateway to the West” once opened to a land of uncertainty just as this city serves as a gateway to an uncertain future. Through its deterioration this city has always endured as a beacon of light. It is still a magnificent city; it is still filled with problems. A reinvention is at hand, for it and the country. What we all become is a matter for the Ouija board that is St. Louis.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
A Beer for Sam McGee
* this “poem” owes a sizeable debt to “The Cremation of Sam McGee”. Forgive me Robert W. Service
Monday, September 6, 2010
Some Anchorage Culinary Traditions
The Lucky Wishbone offers multiple options for a meal, though all but two are inconsequential. The place is known for its fried chicken and milkshakes. The buttermilk-battered chicken, pan fried to a golden brown would make any Southern grandma proud, as would the house made cornbread muffin that accompanies the meal. The meal is one of two nods to the past, the other the hand-dipped milkshakes that should not be skipped. The diet is already ruined so order a hot fudge shake to accompany your meal. Have a seat at the counter reserved for those willing to discuss golf (seriously) and pay homage to the Southern flyboy who a half a century ago put down roots in Alaska with the pride of his heritage in the kitchen and the pride of his service to his country covering his establishment’s walls.
There’s similar pride all over the walls of Arctic Roadrunner. Not in commemoration of the Local Burgerman, but to honor the lives of those who have frequented the restaurant since the mid 1960s. The décor is filled with photos and letters detailing the lives of Alaskans with nods to how long those lives have intersected with this local institution. The memorabilia is nice but would just be quaint if not for the memorable burgers. Served fast food style without being bland fast food, this place knows how to make simple, delicious. A diner can also make their sandwich more complicated with a condiment bar that is truly inspired.
It has taken inspiration to leave these two institutions alone. While the city has grown these two restaurants have stood the test of Anchorage time. They have tradition place like Applebees strain to replicate with faux-neighborhood authenticity. Locals already know it, but travelers need to seek these places out. Not because a tourist board sells them as authentic Alaska, but because authentic Alaskans have made these places their tradition.