An all expenses paid trip to... Cincinnati?

As most of you should recall (considering I just posted about it two days ago), I've decided to fill my life up with more pressure and needless studying in the hopes of becoming a beer judge. Having realized that it will be nigh upon impossible to fulfil my grandfather's dreams of me ever becoming a Circuit Court judge, due partially to my inability to pay attention to anything for more than fifteen minutes and partially to my inability to be a better lawyer, he, I, and my family legacy will have to settle for National Beer Judge.

And let's face it kids, which one of these do you think gets a better pop at parties?

At any rate, I've found the sign-up process so far to be a bit more difficult than anticipated, based mostly on the fact that I'm not the only genius with this idea. BJCP limits exams to 5 times a month, and only 20 people per exam, so while here I am trying to join the ranks of the 6000 or so judges in this country, like 100 people a month are doing it before me - and worse yet, are preventing me from even finding an available exam seat! Now when I took the bar, the bar admin folks couldn't cash my check fast enough in order to allow me the privilege of sitting amongst 12,000 or so other stressed out law school grads who desperately wanted the summer to end. This time, I'm trying my ass off to track down exam hosts but I'm getting nowhere.

First bite at the line - a mid-August availability out in Cincinnati, Ohio. That's right, unless I hear back from someone closer to my precious East Village home, I'll be jetting off to O Hi O in order to judge beer for money. While I am relatively excited about visiting the brew pubs that Cincy has to offer (and maybe even taking in a pre-season Bengals game while judging the Budweiser at the stadium), I already have Green Day tickets for that night!

It's not easy being a Brewmaster, apparently...Green Day or Beer Judge exam. I wonder if my grandfather has an opinion about how I should deal with this latest dilemma. With any luck I'll score a Brooklyn test date and I can live out his dream of me becoming a Judge of one kind or another without impacting my own dream of going to more pop punk shows.

Here come the (beer) judge

As both a brewmaster and a doctor of laws, I consider myself to be a pretty smart and savvy brewthusiast. But in the court of brewy competition, much like in federal court, the only opinion that really matters is that of the judge herself (EVBC is an equal opportunity employer, incredibly PC in all matters written and spoken, and pretty snappy dressers when the occassion calls for it. Well, Brewmaster Marshall is anyways). When I sip 'pon the finest East Village Brewing creations, such as our soon to be completed masterpiece E. Vil. Empire Imperial Stout, I think fondly of their younger days as a big ol bag of grains, and of all the little moments we had along the way... like when the hops were stirred in, or when their fallen comrades who spilt off the side of the bottle lip chose to stain my kitchen floor for all eternity instead of joining their brethren in soppy greatness. Sadly, like a proud parent or an oddly attached pet owner, when I look at my creations I see only greatness - but the judge sees not my love.

The judge sees flaws. The judge sees imperfections. The judge... well... they judge. It's kind of self explanatory. So in an attempt to both become a better and more even-handed judge of beer-character, and maybe even shamelessly self promote along the way, I am registering with the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP for short - everyone loves acronyms!) in order to perfect my palate and raise my credibility in the brewing community. With an accredited BJCP approved judge on our team, the East Village Brewing Company is moving towards great things - great, judgmental things!

From now on when out at a bar I can say "this IPA's a bit light for an American offering..." or when sitting on the judge's panel for a local homebrew challenge I can pronounce "I'm pretty sure your marriage failed because you didn't add enough malty flavor to your porter." And you know what? They have to respect my decision (and/or beat me up in the alley after the competition)! What joy! What fun!

Whaddya mean I have to study my ass off for it? Apparently this thing is no joke... I have to download a few pdf's to get my knowledge up, there's a suggested reading list of like 30 books, and best of all, I am supposed to buy a smell kit so I can hone my senses. As if my eagle eyes and cat like reflexes weren't good enough for them! Well, it seems as though you have to pay the cost to be the boss, so I'm off to get myself a sniffin' kit and start the learning process. Hell if I survived the New York State Bar exam, I suppose I can make it through the BJCP test. At least this time they'll give me credit for drinking as part of my studying regimen.

Now that's what I call education.

Brewmaster Eric tackles Health Care, Real Winner is America

"The best argument against democracy is a five minute conversation with the average voter." Winston Churchill

Landmark legislation has stuck the EVBC! Thanks to the recent passage of national health care, we no longer feel bad about not offering benefits to...well...anyone. Aside from the curative powers of Imperial Stout (deliciously bottle aging as we speak), the East Village Brewing Company offers neither its fans nor its employees anything in the form of health benefits. In fact, some people argue that drinking is actually BAD for your health, but because they're incredibly lame we'll ignore them for the time being.

I myself tried to keep tabs on the whole back and forth in the legislative houses, watching the struggle of private interests against public good, the eternal battle of "it's my money and I need cancer screenings now" vs. "death panels give you communist crabs which ultimately cause auto-immuno-abortions that undermine the very blah blah blergy blag". It's like Ali-Frazier, except boring as shit and drawn out over months and months (so its really more like the 1893 Bowen-Burke classic... google it...it lasted 111 rounds. I'm not kidding). I know to others this whole human drama was expertly unfolded with all the Belt Insider intrigue that you come to love after years of twitter-stalking Nancy Pelosi, but I personally got lost about four seconds in.

I'm no rube - I've seen democracy at work plenty 'o' times and I've seen it falter just as many. I saw the machine at work in "big campus" politics - that's right, class president elections. To be totally honest, I pretty much gave up on democracy when during my Junior year of college the write-in candidate "My Balls" got elected in a landslide. That's right, no actual human 'won' technically..."My Balls" did. I would've even forgiven the dudes from Beta House who clearly stuffed the ballots (everyone knows that drunk pledges show up in droves on election day, majority of them at the behest/threat of their equally as plastered elders) if the embarassment had ended there. No, Tastemasters, second place vote didn't go to a human either - say hello to vice president "My Sac".

IT WAS THE SAME GODDAM JOKE. AND IT WON BOTH MAJOR ELECTED POSITIONS.

So much for student government by and for the people. In a move befitting a warring African nation, the powers-that-be decided President Balls and VP Sac weren't fit to take office, and gave it to the third place "enrolled human" student instead. What a crock. I guess this is how all those legislators must feel about having to settle for some health plan that made NO one truly happy. Perhaps the real accomplishment was just getting it passed though...I mean, no matter who took office during my fateful Junior year, the real triumph of the democratic spirit was that TWO write in candidates took it with relative ease. The people spoke, and they wanted My Balls and My Sac in charge of their collective fates. And maybe this really isn't about MY balls... or YOUR balls... but OUR balls... and you know what? That's really what democracy is all about.

With friends like these, who needs bad habits?

Facilitator.

Devil on your shoulder.

Bad idea machine.

Reason everyone is chain smoking and throwing bottle caps at cars off a bridge.

Assuredly you know a couple of people that fit these descriptions. That bad apple who's always saying "let's just have ONE more shot of patron...and you're buying." The genius who thinks "if we order the whole pizza we're actually saving money in the long run." You bitch about it later and wonder aloud why you hang out with them until 4 in the morning on Tuesday evenings, and you cough up a lung as you question your choice to smoke half a pack of American Spirits while sipping on Coors Light in a rocking chair.

The problem isn't having a couple of these friends. It's having them all in the room at the same time...then shit gets crazy. Such special occassions are normally reserved for holidays and reunions, fraternity get-togethers, and possibly seder at your cousins' house (depending on how badly you hate the pharaoh that year). Luckily the US Government and my fraternity alumni board have conspired to host these events almost exclusively on weekend evenings, preventing the ever so unpleasant waking up for work the next day.

St. Patrick's Day is not as forgiving. It shows up whenever it feels like it...a drunk college roommate who ignores the sock on the handle...an ex girlfriend who is always at the same karaoke bar as you...that facial tick you get every time you watch Just Shoot Me on TBS. The best approach in all of those situations is the same - grin, bear it, and start drinking, cause god help you none of that shit is just about to go away if you ask it nicely. Me and my reckless buddies visited Lederhosen down in the West Village to sup 'pon finest weisswursts and spaetzel, downing litres of black lager in the finest Irish tradition until the St Patty storm passed. It was fun...it was grand...it was on a Wednesday night and I had to be up at 7am the next morning.

It was brutal. But like I said, two things you don't want to fight are drunk Englishman and fate, and St Pattys really encompasses both those sentiments... I grinned... I bore it... I drank my black lager. Tastemasters, I hope you did too. When else can you play quarters on a Wednesday without anyone batting an eye?

Bottles bottles everywhere, but wait two weeks to drink

Brief update from HQ:

This past Monday, 50 precious bottles of Imperial Stout were capped up, where they lie in wait until the time is right and then they shall pounce upon our thirst, ravishing it like lambs on lion-pride-initiation night. Oh my friends, it's gonna be great... and in honor of this momentous occassion, we've decided to tell the world that everyone's invited over to check out one of the very tasty E. Vil. Empire Imperial Stouts (please tell me before you show up, I may or may not walk around in just my boxers...I may or may not even wear boxers at all. It's one of the great mysteries of the EVBC)

At any rate, Brewmaster Marshall and I decided it was time to up production....no rest for the Brewmaster, as they say! So we endeavored to hit full brew-speed by switching over to all grain brewing. With a little guidance and some new equipment courtesy of our friends over at Brooklyn Homebrew, we were off and running - a very complex Chocolate Stout (as of yet unnamed). Initial reports show the flavor is developing quite nicely, and we anticipate a lot of satisfied customers in the coming weeks. You want a chocolate stout float? We can do that. You wanna make some beef jerkey with chocolate stout flavoring? We're way the fuck ahead of ya. You want to discuss the merits of Kantian Teleology while sipping on a delicately balanced chocolate stout with just the right amount of hoppy aroma and a perfect body? Knock yourself out, poindexter, we love a good ontological discourse as much as the next Brewmaster. To paraphrase the immortal words of T.I., "you can drink however you like." We don't judge.

To your face anyway. So, sit back, relax, wait around while my heat blisters heal from the fucking hot wert mishaps associated with that tasty chocolate stout, and in just a short while it'll be time to crack open another batch. Until then, Tastemasters, stay brewy.

We don't care about your blog post, talkin bout your blog post...

After an extended absence, I've returned to your blog rolls and your hearts! Thousand pardon for the disappearance...wouldn't want to trigger any latent attachment issues you might have due to parental travel whilst you were a kid, we've just been slammed over at HQ trying to get some new projects in order!

First and foremost, the Imperial Stout is near ready for bottling...assuredly it will be the greatest beer of all time.

Second, B.M. and I began our trip down the path of all-grain brewing. That's right, now no one can say we aren't true and perfect brewmasters! After about 6 hours, two scalding heat blisters, and one mistimed opening of the drainage valve that resulted in a real mess on the kitchen floor (and one of those heat blisters), we got through our first mashing run with fantastic results. About to move into the secondary fermenter is a delicious chocolate stout (as of yet unnamed) that's made with real bits of chocolate!

[Editor's note - my hilarious attempt to have a strikethrough comment on the word panther before chocolate, creating a delicious reference to Anchorman, was apparently unsupported by this blog format. It was gonna be spectacular. Apologies]

Other fantastic news involves the purchase of a food dehydrator so we can master the art of jerky making. That's right, EVBC is hittin the snack cart...and we're hitting it hard (additional aggression in said hitting due to high alcohol content of the imperial stout). G.T. Robyn has valiantly offered to create a series of fruit jerky and leathers to keep our non-meat enjoying friends happy, although I still don't think chicken counts as a meat so I refuse to bend to their wishes.

Yup, everythings been honkey dorey over here at the East Village Brewing Company, spare the Brewmasters' regular struggles with existential purpose and the omnipresent "what are we gonna do with our lives" conversation. For now, the goal is to just keep brewing, avoid further heat blisters, and hope it will all work out in the end. Besides, once we get the operation fully up and running, we can make beer and jerky without ever leaving HQ...and if you're gonna have a base of operations, there's no better place than the EVBC.

EVBC hires guard for beer stockpile, face injuries at HQ up 500%