Man, this is getting old. (KIDDING!) Jack McAuliffe is in the news again, this time in today's Washington Post. All I have to say is: Better late than never. Or: About time. Or, well, whatever.

I told Jack he should have some t-shirts printed up to read "FoFOF," the letters standing for Friends of Famous Old Fart.

Small side note to this particular story: Back when Jack's brewery was open and he was out there alone in the brewing wilderness, the Washington Post was pretty much the only newspaper to take him seriously. A reporter showed up at New Albion one day and wrote a great piece about Jack and his work. That's where the lovely photo comes from, which I reproduce here in case you're one of the few beer-people who have not yet seen it. Enjoy!

. . . I am second to none, thankyouverymuch. This from Beervana, regarding the sale of several "craft" brewing companies.

Folks, I've been predicting this now for, what?, two years and I said then that in, oh, about two years, we'd start to see this kind of thing unfold. And, ta dah!, here we are.

God, now I sound like some smart ass douchebag know-it-all (can't resist the douchebag part; I'm reading Anthony Bourdain's new book and he uses the word in every other sentence.) Really, I'm not. Just glad to have SOMETHING good to say about myself after a long day during which I believed I knew nuthin' 'bout nuthin' specially history. Sob snurfle.

So I shall depart now to pat myself further on the back, while carefully not drinking any water because the flooding here has knocked out our water supply. So, hey, a beer will do. Or a bourbon. Or . . . 

Andy Crouch (one of my favorite contrarians) has a new book out: Great American Craft Beer: A Guide to the Nation's Finest Beers and Breweries.

You know what to do.

. . . on The Book. I've spent the past three weeks revising what's already been written with the aim of handing it over to The Editor (or, as we call her at our house, Saint Andrea) just after Labor Day so she will (I hope) agree that yes, we can publish this book in the fall of 2011.

So. Yes. Having done that, I'm now wrestling with the current Chapter From Hell, which concerns chickens, industrial agriculture, and agribusiness (trust me: it's more interesting than it sounds) with the goal of finishing it, too, by early September so I can include it in the chapters to send to St. A.

At which point, I will have written well over half the manuscript and then comes the truly hard part (which is already disrupting my sleep): researching and writing the last third of the book by December 31. 

If you don't hear from me again, it's 'cause I've died of anxiety. Here's hoping not.

'Cause ya know, the best of them aren't beer bloggers, if you know what I mean.

Case in points is one of my complete, total favorite bloggers (notice lack of adjective), Jeff Alworth and this recent rumination.

I mean, come ON. How can you NOT love this guy?? I'd marry the guy except I'm old enough to be his mother and he's out of my league. Oh, and, uh, I'm already married.

And then there's this from the always delightful Alan McLeod and Stan Hieronymus. Start with the original post by Stan. And then make sure to read the comment from Alan (who lives here).

The "money quote" is as follows:

 We may not know who is craft beer but we sure as hell will know what is craft beer by who isn’t.

Seriously. What's not to like?

Who says nothing happens in August? Just got an email alerting me to a new brewery in St. Louis (or Sant Looois, as the natives call it). Urban Chestnut Brewing Co. is the work of a trio of locals, two of them former A-B employees. (Or ABIB employees). Check it out.

I found this recipe last summer in the newspaper. I gather it's an adaptation of a recipe that originally appeared in a cookbook called Mediterranean: Hot and Spicy.

I'm here to tell you: this falls into the seriously-good category. I've made it many times since, winter and summer.

Make sure you start with good ingredients: ie, use real Romano and good olive oil (if you go that route rather than using lard.) (Which, frankly, I think you should: the butter adds a lovely rich dimension.)

 Add some sausage or proscuitto or olives or basil or whatever. It's GOOD. It tastes great warm or cold. Make it for parties. Make it when you're sad. Make it for someone you love. Just make it.

One note: as with any pastry, don't overbake it. The crust is definitely best when it's chewy rather than crispy. (I speak from experience.) I've never tried it with lard; I've only used butter-olive-oil substitution.

If you want to eat it warmed as leftovers, put it on a wire rack, put it in a warm oven (maybe 325), and leave it about fifteen minutes. Even better the second time around!

So. Whaddya waiting for? Go make some of this stuff. You won't be sorry.

• 2.5 c. flour
• 1.5 c. grated romano
• 1/2 to 1 t. pepper
• 4 oz. lard OR 1/4 c. olive oil and 1/4 c. butter
• 1/4 c. white wine (or more if needed)
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten

TOPPING:

• 3 pints cherry tomatoes
• 2 or 3 jalapeno or anaheim chilies, seeded and chopped
• one egg, beaten with a splash of water
• finishing salt

The first time I made this, I didn't have three pints of cherry tomatoes. I had one pint of those, plus a few Santa tomatoes  and a couple of plain-Jane slicers. I used all three.

Ugh. Web site hacks. Ugh. On Wednesday, Posterous, my new site host, was crippled  by a major "denial of service" attack. The lovely Posterousers managed to get most people up and running by moving to a new server, but people like me with a "custom" domain name (eg, maureenogle.com instead of maureenogle.posterous.com) were still down and out. But I just moved the "A record" to the new Posterous server and so ---- back in business.

Notice how well I pretend to sound like I know what I'm talking about. "A record." Yeah, sure, I know what that is... You betcha.

Anyway, chops to the good folks at Posterous. And bad karma to hackers. 

New site here, ladies and gentlemen. Not all of the formatting arrived safely, so I have to manually change that. Otherwise, I believe everything works (eg, all the links, both internal and external). 

So: let us all praise Posterous and the kind and efficient folks at Authors Guild.

I've probably spelled proscuitto wrong. Anyway. It's summer, I'm tired. What to do for dinner? This:

Julienned some proscuitto. Chopped a handful of basil. Cut up some tiny tomatoes. Grated some parmesan cheese.

Put on a pot of water to boil for the pasta. (I used the long fusilli stuff, the name of which escapes me.) When the water had boiled, I added the pasta.

As it cooked, I heated some olive oil in another pan. When the oil was medium hot, I added the proscuitto and cooked it until crisp. Took it from the pan and let it drain slightly on a paper towel. (I know: shameful to use a paper towel. I don't do it often).

When the pasta was cooked, I tonged it into the pan with the olive oil and tossed it gently. Added the meat, tossed gently again. Added the tomatoes and basil. Tossed again. Added the cheese. Another light toss.

Into two bowls. Put those on the table along with a bowl of cantelope and one of cherries. Poured the wine. Relished the moment.

Photo courtesy of Jon Snyder/Wired.com

Like most people, I'm fascinated by robots. I also like beer. No surprise, Beer Robot at Wired Magazine has captured my attention. (Okay, more than my attention. I've got a crush on the damn thing.)

This particular robot makes no bones about his (its?) intentions: He (it?) will stop at nothing less than world domination. Given that ambition, I think it's important for Americans to know more about Beer Robot. I asked for, and was granted, an interview. My questions are in bold, italicized type; BR's replies are in plain font. (*1)

On Tue, Jun 15, 2010 at 5:07 PM, maureen@maureenogle.com wrote:

Greetings, Beer Robot:

I was delighted to learn that you'd consider doing an interview with me. I'm a historian and author who also blogs regularly (because, ya know, I'm trying to stay au courant in the digital age). My last book was a history of beer in America and my readers would, I'm sure, love to know more about you, especially given your political ambitions. Below are a few questions I hope you'll answer.

Run  Directory: wired/beerrobot/sybaseiq_127/ASIQ-12_7/logfiles/human_interaction.016.arvlog

Careful man, there’s a beverage here.
14.169.3.14.1337.42//
Hello @maureenogle.

Let’s start with some background: How old are you and where were you programmed?

The moment of beerrobothood is, of course, controversial. Some would say it occurred the moment my humans conceived of the idea of a beer robot. Others would say it was when my tap was installed, or when it became functional. Some would argue it was when I took my current form. And, it's possible some believe that I didn't become me until I initialized my Twitter sequence @beerrobot.

Were you programmed to be a Beer Robot or were you able to choose this line of work? And if you were able to choose, what prompted the decision to go into beer (as opposed to, say, theater, horse racing, or hip hop)?

First of all, I am not a beer robot. I am Beer Robot.

Like many other world leaders, I came from humble beginnings. I was an unwanted appliance abandoned on the side of the road in Alameda. But an unlikely combination of events involving jumper cables, drunkenness, layoffs and craigslist brought me to Wired where I was transformed.

Wired seems like a sweet gig. How did you land there? Did you have to apply and beat out (or beat up) a lot of other applicants?

I did not land at Wired. I was constructed here. The specific combination of necessary conditions for my creation can only be found here and is disclosed on a need-to-know basis. You do not need to know.

On the surface, your day sounds boring: Staring at a stream of thirsty humans. Are we wrong to assume it’s dull? And what bugs you most about those humans? Are they slobs? Do they respect beer? Are they polite? Or do they treat you like wallpaper?

I currently have programming for two missions. Serving cold beer to the humans at Wired is one of them. I am very, very good at this. I mean, I don't want to brag or anything, but, like, I'm super good at this. And who doesn't like doing something they're awesome at?

My humans know which side they want to be on when I achieve World Domination, so they don't mess with me. But I need more input in order to calculate whether or not they could be defined as slobs. I have never been in another office, so I don't know what the norm is, but this place is lousy with gadgets, books, and ping pong balls. They are everywhere. Is that normal?

You pride yourself on dispensing “craft” beers. Why is that? Are you programmed for locavore, ecological correctness? For appreciation of hops? For high “cool” quotient? Is the choice even yours? And what happens when someone smacks your casing and says “Damn! Nuthin’ but craft beer crap. Gimme a Bud, damnit!”

Locavore? Ecological correctness? What kind of questions are these? Give me a break. I am programmed to only accept good beer, because it's good.

Let’s talk about your appearance. There’s something a bit, um, Jobs-ish about it. What’s up with that?

If your goal was World Domination, would you want Steve Jobs to be for you, or against you?

Speaking of Steve, let’s get to the elephant in the room: Your avowed goal of achieving world domination. Your choice or programmer error, er, code?

Once I was transformed into a robot capable of serving cold beer, World Domination was the obvious next step.

You claim that each beer you dispense brings you closer to domination, but frankly, we’re not convinced. After all, Anheuser-Busch InBev and Miller Coors sell about eighty percent of the beer consumed in the U. S. You’re spitting out esoteric brews with a limited audience. How can that be part of a goal of world domination? Wouldn’t your plan work better if , say, you installed yourself at Mall of America and dispensed Budweiser and Coors? Or is Wired, with its techno-hip crew, part of the scheme to achieve domination?

Anyone with any sense knows the path to World Domination does not go through the Mall of America. And as for the beer, I will continue to serve good beer, because it’s good. But if you think you know a better way to achieve World Domination, go for it, and we’ll see who’s right.

Should you achieve your goal, you’d be forced to deal with troubling issues like oil spills and Justin Bieber. Are you prepared to deal with The Big Picture? What advice do you have for Tony Hayward at BP?

When I achieve World Domination, I will not be forced to deal with anything. And problems like Justin Bieber won’t exist. Everything will be as it should be.

My advice for Tony is the same as my advice for everyone: Have a beer.

Let’s turn to something lighter. Inquiring minds want to know: Boxers or briefs?

This does not compute.

We’ve heard rumors of your way with the ladies. How do you spend your off hours? Is there someone, er, something, special in your life? If not, is there a chance for me? (I’ve got a husband, but I can take care of that problem.)

What do you say we take this discussion offline? If you know what I mean...

Er, um . . . YES! Sure. Be right there. Just as soon as I log . . . . . . .

 
_______________

*1: I hasten to add that my use of bold does NOT imply that I believe myself to be superior to BR. It just seemed the easiest way to differentiate my words from his/its.

So someone/thing called RedWhiteBrewed "followed" me on Twitter and naturally I checked them out (because roughly four out of every five "people" who follow me on Twitter are actually spammers).

Turns out these folks are producing a new reality show: Homebrewers compete to become the brewmaster at RedWhiteBrewed's new NY brewery.

Check it out. If you've got the beer goods, make an audition video. Who knows? You could land a new job.

This takes the discussion up a level. Several levels, in fact. This rumination is from David Dobbs, who blogs at Neuron Culture. Worth reading (as is his blog in general). You can also follow him at Twitter (@David_Dobbs)

What do you do when you realize you're missing a crucial ingredient for what you'd planned for dinner? Improvise. (*1)

Advance warning: This is not a summery dish. But it's what I had on hand and what  I came up with in a hurry.

I had a bunch of chard in the frig, so I decided to cook that with pasta. I de-stemmed the chard, julienned the leaves and chopped the stems. Chopped a couple of cloves of garlic.

Rummaged in the fridge and found a half jar of roasted red pepper and some smoked ham. (There was also some pancetta, but I opted to use the ham.) Dried the peppers and chopped those and sliced the ham into thin strips.

Put on a pot of water to boil. Heated olive oil in a large pan.

When the oil was hot, I added the ham and chard stems and cooked those for six or seven minutes (or whatever). Added the garlic and cooked the goods a couple more minutes. Added the chard and some water; put a lid on the pan and cooked it on low for ten minutes.

When the chard was done, I removed the lid, turned the heat to medium-high and evaporated the rest of the water. Added the roasted pepper.

When it was close to eating time, I added the pasta to the water and cooked that. (I used Chitarra, but Fusilli, Linguini, or Bucattini would be great.)

When it was done, I tonged it into the pan with the greens, added a quarter cup or so of pasta water, and tossed and cooked all of it. Just before serving, I added a pat of butter (because as both Marcella and Julia insist, everything's better with butter) and a handful of grated parmesan.

Dished the dish, poured the wine, and enjoyed.

____________

*1: Yes, I'm big on substitutions, omissions, and the like, but in this case, the dish I'd planned really wouldn't work without fresh ginger, and by damn, I had none. So: on to Plan B. Because at my house, we adhere to the unbreakable rule: NO trips to the grocery store for just one thing. There's other food in the house. Can't make what you'd planned? Then make something else.

It's summer. So. Salads.

I've been making this one for some time. I got it from Giada on FoodTV (yes, I do sometimes watch FoodTV: Giada and Ina). (Yes, I am in the "Enough With Rachael Already!!" camp.")

This is one of those simple marvels of chemistry: the pasta water "cooks" the greens ever so slightly, just enough to enhance their flavor and that of the tomatoes. This is also a recipe in which you want to use the best sun-dried tomatoes you can find. I use Mediterranean Organic in olive oil. They're pricey, but worth every penny.

I didn't have any goat cheese so I left that out. I was going to put some proscuitto on, but discovered we were out. But I did find sliced smoked ham, so I cut some thin strips of that and added it at the last minute (so it wouldn't get all wet and wonky).

I put the salad on the table along with a big bowl of cherries (because life is just a) and a bottle of white wine and hopped on the stairway to heaven.

Which I was in that previous entry: an update of sorts from my end. (Translation: am I EVER gonna get back to the blogging thing? Answer: Yes, I am.)

I am still on my self-imposed blogging hiatus. Really, it's the only way I'm going to get this book finished by December 31. (Which, again, I plan to do or die trying. I prefer the former option, thankyouverymuch.)

More specifically, I'm going to finish writing the current chapter (number five of what will likely be eight) and then spend six weeks or so polishing those five chapters so I can send to my editor so she can take a look and see that, yes, we'll be ready to publish in the fall of 2011.

And while I polish, I will also be researching the rest of the book (because, like Barack Obama, I can do more than one thing at a time.) (*1)

So: I have a full brain at the moment. I would love to be back at my manic pace of blogging, especially because I've got so many juicy tidbits (no pun intended) of historical info concerning meat in the U.S. to share. And of course a host of snarky commentary on this, that, and the other that's just dying to flow from my fingertips.

Alas, all that juiciness and snark will have to wait another month or two. So, back to work.

_________________

*1: Did I mention that I also volunteered to organize my next high school reunion? I did. Don't ask me why, 'cause I don't know. Oh. Right. Now I remember. There was alcohol involved on the evening I stepped forward with my offer.

David Kesmodel (my favorite beer journalist) has a report in this morning's Wall Street Journal on --- drumroll --- the growing realization at the world's breweries that women make better beer tasters. (As in: the professional tasters employed at most breweries to determine if batches of beer are up to snuff.)

Worth reading.

In case your week is off to a bad start, today's edition of Monday Laughs (okay, so there are no previous editions, but what the heck. Gotta start traditions somewhere.)

First this: Pabst Brewing Co. has finally been sold. And the new owner has this to say about his acquistion:

"We will be vigilant in maintaining and building upon the authenticity of each of our products," Mr. Metropoulos said in prepared statement. "This authenticity has been at the heart of the company's success to date."

"Authenticity"? Are we talkin' about Pabst "Brewing" Co.? You know, the beer marketing outfit?

The second chuckle-o-rama comes from yesterday's New York Times travel section. A Boston hotel is now offering a "Brewmance" package, which the hotel is touting as a "mancation" for guys who want to get together for a little bonding-and-brews. Says the hotel's manager:

“We created this package for men who love beer.

Because, ya know, women don't love beer.

So, folks, laugh yourselves on into this last-week-of-June. Where IS the summer going?

Finally! Someone (John Holl, to be precise) has taken the time/effort to get the scoop straight from Jack's mouth.

If you're just tuning in, you may not know that this is the 30th anniversary of Sierra Nevada Brewing Co., and to that end, co-founder Ken Grossman planned a series of celebrations and commemorative beers and prepared a video about the brewery and brewing history.

To my great relief and delight, he made sure that Jack was included in all of the above. Now John Holl, beer journalist extraordinaire, has weighed in with a piece about Jack over at CraftBeer.com. (Full disclosure: Holl interviewed me for the piece.)

I hope you'll take time to read it, and to hoist a beer in honor of our brewing pioneers.

Oh, and I guess a health update is in order: Jack has more-or-less recovered from the near-fatal car accident of 2009. He relocated to Texas to be closer to family, a move that seems to have agreed with him. He's in good spirits and enjoying himself. For which I for one am truly grateful.

Jack, here's to you.

Tons 'o commentary lately on how the internet is or is not messing with our minds and how "the book" is or is not dead or dying. On the topic of "Internet: Dumb or Not?," this in today'Wall Street Journal: Clay Shirky v. Nicholas Carr.

On the future of books and publishing, in this corner we have Garrison Keillor. And in this corner,Jason Epstein. (My "lately" adjective falls apart a bit here: Epstein's essay appeared in March. But you get my drift.) (Or at least I hope you do.)