My First Time, Pt. 2

Now don't get the wrong idea. Jason is not some seat-of-his-pants, take-the-money-and-run thrill jockey. He is a trained French chef. That is, his training is French. And the next dish, our main course for the night, demonstrated his skill admirably. For the better part of an hour the aromas of bacon, various veggies, chicken, spices and wine filled the house while his Coq au Vin simmered. When the IPA had finally quenched the habañero fire, we plated up and sat down. Jason and I couldn't agree on one beer to pair with this dish, so we fought each other on land and sea had two:

Beer #6: Gulden Draak
The Gulden Draak is one of those singular Belgian beers that defies easy description, or at least refuses to fit easily into an established style category. It is dark, dark golden and strong; its sweet dark fruits (raisins, prunes etc) added dimension to the Coq, meeting the savory flavors on their own level and preventing a heavy, traditional French dish from dulling the palate after a couple of bites.

Beer #7: Allagash Double
This Double is the beer you would expect from the best Belgian-style brewers this side of the pond. No question that it is an American iteration, but certainly no worse for it. Although one could be forgiven for taking the Gulden Draak for a double, the differences are certainly distinguishable with these two beers side-by-side: the Allagash has lower alcohol and gravity, and includes substantially more roast to its malt. Some of the fruit is still there, but putting it together with the chicken emphasized its savory side in a way I had never previously experienced.

A bit of a break now. Simple spinach salad with some of Jason's homemade raspberry vinaigrette, fresh raspberries, and a bit more of the gorgonzola. To really make it pop? San Pellegrino. Perfect.

This is my favorite thing about events like this: after a while everyone gets into the act and you find things you never intended on the table or in a glass. Hannah, for her wedding, made and canned her own chocolate sauce as favors for her guests, and brought a couple of the extra cans up to share with me (chocolate sauce + pita chips. I said it.). Topped with gingham, they were so cute sitting there on the counter that we just had to open them up and dip fresh-picked strawberries in them. More San Pellegrino. Brilliant.

Finally it was dessert time. The sun had gone down and the fire was lit, we were cozy around a table filled with half-full glasses and covered in stray chocolate sauce, and Jason was ready to reveal his real triumph for the evening. The sorbet had been an amusing divertisement, but the real work had gone into perfecting a sweet custard version of a favorite cocktail of his and Matthew's: Ginger-Soy (on account of Matthew's lactardadness) custard with a gelée of lime, ginger, and Sailor Jerry's. Not one to skimp, Jason made sure we could taste every ingredient; it had a pleasant kick, too.

This was also my final chance to show off and I didn't want the opportunity to pass me by. I had all kinds of ideas for possible pairings, and decided that there was no reason at this point to start skimping, so I brought them all out:

Beer #8: Sam Smith's Imperial Stout
Thick and roasty, sweet and herbal, this beer is all one could possibly ask for at the end of a good meal. It is stout enough to stand up to an authentic Cubano, but nimble enough to dance with a delicate vanilla ice cream. It's almost too much for me to describe all of the competing flavor combinations - each one was as distinct and recognizable as an orchestra section, and just as easily melded into a balanced, symphonic fullness.

Beer #9: Unibroue Trois Pistoles
These Canadians make a mean Belgian - before Allagash came on the scene I would say that they outclassed any American brewery at Belgian inspired brews. Trois Pistoles is one of their darkest, and hits all the right notes: deep roasted pitted fruit edging towards chocolate, and the distinctive aroma of Unibroue's house yeast. While it didn't reach quite the same soaring heights achieved by the Imperial Stout, it elicited no complaints.

Beer #10: Tadcaster Porter
Better known by its nom de tasse, Taddy Porter, this beer is absolutely classic and definitive of the style. When poured it starts out a little sharp and light and surprisingly refreshing for being so dark, and as it warms all of the velvety roasts come out to romp with each other. Faint minerality in the well-water adds a characteristic that is very difficult to pin down if you don't know what you're looking for, but just that touch brought out enough differences in the custard to make the Taddy Porter something more than just a lightened version of the Imperial Stout.

Beer #11: Etienne Dupont Organic Cidre Bouche Brut de Normandie
Ok yes, it's a cider. But the people at Domaine Familial Etienne Dupont know what they're about, their family has tenderly tended the same orchards since 1837, and turn their fruit into some of the most complex beverages around. This particular style is dry and tart but wonderfully apple-y. The natural carbonation turned the custard into a kind of apple-ginger-rum-lime-mousse-in-your-mouth, and was my reach for the night. Like the evening as a whole, I was thrilled with how it turned out.

Just before we finished the custard, Benny pulled out a special treat he had saved for Hannah, but a whole bottle was too much for any of us at this point so she shared it out and we were treated to one more délice.

Beer #12: Boon Oude Kriek
This traditional Cherry Lambic is the perfect example of its style. While Cantillon holds the crown for pretty much every other kind of lambic, Boon's Oude Kriek is dry and tart but not astringent and has more cherry flavor than should be allowed in a bottle. When the barrels of lambic get stuffed with fruit, it all goes in: stems, fruit and pits. After the yeast works its way through the meat of the fruit, it breaks down any greenery and starts in on the pits. This is an almost militantly anachronistic technique that produces beautiful almond and woody flavors as it warms. The tartness of the cherry and the dryness of the lambic clear the palate, and are a fitting conclusion to any meal, especially one as adventurous as this.

It was only our first try, but this meal was an eye-opening experience for most of us. Beer dinners we've done before, but with just the resources available to each of us we managed to put together a meal, the quality if not the structure of which would challenge any restaurant on the planet. It's an idea we've all had had on occasion, and we finally made it happen.