Penn Brewery

While some asslicking cockwhores are moving out of the city of Pittsburgh, some fine, upstanding citizens are going to great lengths to keep Pittsburgh brewing traditions alive.

Now that doesn't say much in that article I linked to, so I'll give you the scuttlebutt I've heard around town.  Cause, you know, it's just a blog.  What the fuck do you want from me, journalism?

The story I heard was that Tom Pastorius, founder and owner, who played with his band many Friday nights at the brewpub, wanted to retire.  He wasn't greedy, he just wanted to have fun with his life and he'd made as much money as he felt he needed.  I admire that.  But anyway, stories I heard had Tom retiring to do... whatever the hell he felt like.  So he sold Penn Brewery to some folks who thought they could continue on his good work.  But Tom didn't actually own the building, just the company; and the landlords wanted to write up a new lease for the new owners that included numerous anal violation clauses, and few to no lubrication addendums.  So the new owners started looking at moving or selling out.  (I don't really blame them for that, it sounded like a raw deal to me).  But Tom wasn't really cool with that, he wanted Penn Brewery to stay in Pittsburgh.  He'd started that place to be a Pittsburgh institution.

In Februray, his worst fears came to fruition.  The folks who bought it sold the bottling line and moved production to Wilkes-Barre.

This is not what Tom wanted.  In fact, he had gone on record saying that he didn't want the brewery to end when he retired.  So, he got together with some other investors, got a grant from the city's urban renewal initiative (to the tune of $300k), and bought the fucking place back.  Awesome!

Now, I understand that not everyone can afford to be so selfless and dedicated to community.  I sure can't.  But even if you can't do something like Tom to try to give back to a community, the least you could do is not shit all over it.  I'm talking about begging favors in the name of community, then pulling stakes, leaving disgusting amounts of debt, jobless locals, and a vacant building in a barely recovering part of town.  Yes, I'm still bitter about that.  And I will be until they either move back into a depressed area of Pittsburgh or rename their beer "Pissy Swill sold by Shady, Backstabbing Bastards".

Such can not be said about Tom Pastorius.  Brewermaster, entrepreneur, yinzer, awesome dude.  Here's to you!

So that's the story as I heard it, and I have now done my part to usher in the death of journalism by spewing unchecked facts and rumors into the blogosphere.  Feel free to read about what really happened but it will probably be less entertaining.

Sorry if you started reading this before I was done, I hit some key combination that posted it in the middle of writing.

Old School

I was at the State Store last night to pick up some stuff I'm short on for this weekend's BBQ when I made an amazing discovery. My wife and I agreed that we have spent plenty of money these past few weeks, on car inspection, food, decor, etc. We decided going in that were only going to buy what we came for. That failed miserably when I discovered a $33 bottle of something amazing. Alcoholic Root Beer, or Root Tea to be more precise. No I'm not talking about the latest flavored vodka craze, and the distiller makes sure state that as well. This is not some neutral grain spirit with some McCormick's Root Beer Extract added, in some flashy bottle. I'm talking about real honest to goodness root beer as it existed prior to prohibition, and they have given it an appropriately simple name of just "Root."



The stuff is made by Art in the Age, a store based out of Philadelphia, which supports artists, musicians and craftsmen who embrace the old ways in today's technological megalopolis. Their website has tons of great information on their product, it's history and how they reinvented it. Root is a rebirth of a preprohibition era Pennsylvania recipe for what would eventually evolve into root beer. We here at JABB are always more than willing to tout the merits of anything booze related that comes out of the Great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania (another post on why we Pennsylvanians love our rye). Prior to prohibition it was known as root tea, an herbal concoction passed on from the Native Americans, made from birch bark, sassafras, cloves, lemon peel and much more. Most of the ingredient grew native to the backwoods of Pennsylvania.

To quote the little tag that came with the bottle, "as the temperance movement saw fit to take all the fun out of life" an enterprizing pharmacist named Charles Hires took it upon himself to remove the alcohol from the root tea and replace it with soda water. He marketed this new brew, which he dubbed "root beer", to the hard drinking coal miners of Pennsylvania as something for them to enjoy without becoming a hazard to their fellow workers. It was an instant hit and what we now know as root beer was officially born. This new recipe tries to recreate the original as accurately as possible using nothing but organic ingrediets and a dedication to keep things true.

Naturally upon seeing this in the liquor store and being a root beer fanatic, I had no choice but to deviate from the original plan and picked up the only bottle they had left of the stuff. I haven't tried it yet, but I plan on sampling it this weekend. I'm giddy with anticipation and will definitely let you all know how it goes with a followup. Also check out this great article from the Philadelphia CityPaper on Root.

Only in my Dreams

Or...they could just let the grocery stores sell the wine themselves.

http://www.postgazette.com/pg/09190/982698-51.stm

Actually in all truth, if this is the best it can get, then I'll take it. I kind of like it, if nothing more than for the novelty of it. I mean a vending machine that dispenses booze. It's an alcoholic's wet dream come true. I can't wait for the Jim Beam version to come out. Though I wonder how the built in breathalyzer would work. I would hope that it would NOT be something you actually have to put your mouth on. That's just nasty.


Thought I do find it ironic that nearly every State has banished cigarette vending machines, because tobacco is evil, and now you'll be able to get a bottle of Boone's Farm whenever you'd like, and nobody seems to gives a shit. God, I love how bass-ackwards this County is.

I Got the Blues

Pennsylvania Blue Laws are getting me down. I just read this article online today at KDKA's website (Giant Eagle Applies for Liquor License). The headline got me kind of excited. Had the State finally changed their bass-ackward laws? Was this the first step in the right direction to true freedom of inebriation? Sadly no. I commend Giant Eagle and their efforts to fight the system, but without real changes in the legislation these little victories just aren't doing it for me anymore.

A quick sinopsis of Pennsylvania Blue Laws:
- You can only by wine or spirits at the State run liquor stores. One exemption to this law is wineries themselves. They are permitted to sell their own product on the premises.
- Beer can only be purchased at a licensed beer distributor or six pack shop. Distributor are only allowed to sell beer by the case (24+), and Six pack shops by...well, six packs (really expensive six packs).
- Liquor stores are only open till 9PM, and all except for the larger ones are closed on Sundays.
- Up until recent years, the beer distributors were also closed on Sundays.


These wonderful laws mean that while at the grocery store, there is no beer aisle to walk down for you to purchase something cold and frothy to wash down the pretzels and 20 cans of Cheez Whiz you just bought. It means that you can't swing by the corner gas station for a quick six pack or bottle of wine on the way home from a long a day at work. It's 11PM, your girlfriend just broke up with you, and you need a fifth of something stiff to drown your sorrows; you're shit outta luck.

Now in truth, the State Store system doesn't bother me as much as the beer. There are tons of State Stores around and you always know that no matter which store you go into, you're gonna find a decent selection and the price is always the same. I've done a lot of traveling, and I will say that the State Stores are competitively priced compared to liquor prices in other states. In some States all you can find is Joe's Liquor, where you have a grand selection of 20 dust covered bottles, and the guy manning the register looks like your aunt Beth on crack, but with a smaller mustache. I love the selection here in PA. The Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board happens to be the largest single purchaser of wines and spirits in the Country. That means purchasing power, which on many occasions has led me to find some killer deals. Hell, they even have free tastings several times a week. But most of things I like about the State Store system have nothing to do with it being run by the State. It's because they are so freek'n large and you can find them everywhere. The benefits would still be there if run in the private sector, and at least you'd have more options when caught in a jam.

For instance, several years back there was a very bad snow storm on Valentine's Day. The State decided to shut down all non-essential government jobs and send people home early. Well the liquor stores are run by the State, and all the workers are government employees. What happened was, every average Joe who was planning on stopping in for a bottle of wine on their way home from work was left standing out in the cold...literally. There goes that nice romantic evening you had planned. The government was responsible for hundreds, maybe thousands, of men NOT getting laid that special evening. That is completely unacceptable in my book, and that makes me a sad panda.

From the article, Giant Eagle continues to fight the good fight. One of their grocery stores had a State Store built inside of it several years back, but it was essentially still its own entity. It has its own separate registers and all the employees are with the State. It's just your typical State Store that you happened to have to walk through a grocery store to get to. This new six pack shop is going to be the same thing. The employees won't be with the State, but it will still have to be a separate entity that just happens to be connected to the grocery store. It's still gonna be just another typical six-pack shop. The prices will still be 3 times what they should. There are just too many restrictions. I think Giant Eagle's plan is to show the government that having everything in one place (one-stop-shop) isn't a bad thing. We can say it over and over again, but by actually doing it and showing that it works, hopefully it will have some effect.

Every time a vote comes up on this subject in Harrisburg, the naysayers and the tea tottlers all scream "Evil, evil, sin, sin!!! By making alcohol more accessible, people will drink more, babies will die, drunk driving will become an epidemic, and your daughter will get knocked up by a black man! Do you want that on your conscience!" I mean really. By keeping me from buying a 12 pack of beer and forcing me to by a whole case, you are keeping me from drinking too much? Because me walking down the block to the 7-Eleven to get a bottle of wine, when I might have had a little too much already, is so much more dangerous than me getting in my car to drive the two miles to the nearest Wines & Spirits. And worst of all, all these damn Blue Laws have forced me to take measures into my own hands and build a fully stocked bar in my basement. Anyone who knows me will tell you "that is a bad idea." If that isn't being irresponsible, I don't know what is.

Ultra-Premium Rye, an Oxymoron?

A couple of weeks ago I was in the liquor store, when I by chance came a cross a bottle of (ri)1 (pronounced rye one) Ultra-Premium Rye Whiskey. The very first thing I said to myself was "oh God, no." I don't know why. I love rye whiskey. In fact, the other thing that popped in my head was "you bastards stole our idea." You see, my friends and I have always though that starting our own Pennsylvania Rye distillery would be a kick-ass idea. And nobody makes a Pennsylvania rye anymore (the secrets out, damnit!).

I Guess seeing this new whiskey on the shelf bothered me for two reasons. One, I don't care for the phrase "ultra-premium" attached to anything I drink. I usually find the product to be of slightly above average quality, and highly above average in price. It's a buzz word that has no meaning, unless you've got the balls to back it up. I've seen many ultra-premium liquors fall short of their namesake. Second, I just don't see the words "ultra-premium" and "rye" going together. They just don't fit with my image of what rye is supposed to be.

Let's first skip past Canadian whiskey, which is often called rye whiskey for some reason, but usually has no rye in it at all. When it does, it usually accounts for a small amount of the blend. Rye whiskey came out of the foothills of the Appalachians in rural Western Pennsylvania. It was the drink of the common man when rum fell from grace after the American Revolution. Rye was the only distilled spirit that was born 100% from American sweat and labor. Rum relied heavily on molasses imports from the West Indies, and gin usually was made with spices from around the globe. Both were also distilled primarily in the urban coastal cities. Rye on the other had was a hard drink, made by hard men, who just wanted to supplement their income with their excess grain. It was harsh and peppery. A bold drink. America's fire water.

Rye was the only real whiskey anybody drank prior to prohibition. Bourbon? Barely anybody touched the stuff. It existed, but wasn't really popular until after prohibition. When you watch an old western on TV and somebody orders whiskey, they were ordering rye. Rye has this grittiness to it, this classic mystique of the old days, the harder days. Rye is dirty. Rye burns the throat, and hard men drink it. There is nothing ultra-premium about rye.

I looked at the elegantly tapered bottle on the shelf before me. I take note of its clean simple label. This wasn't rye that I was looking it. In my eyes, it was a gimmick. What right did it have to come out of nowhere, and just declare itself champion over all other ryes, without being tested in the fires.

It wasn't until just recently that I discovered that (ri)1 is actually made by Jim Beam. I suppose that offers some merit to it. I definitely will have to try it. But is it really worth $50 a bottle. This shit is expensive. Being a lover of rye whiskey, I am definitely taking a biased stance on this one. I love Jim Beam, and I hope that this whiskey is spectacular, but their marketing campaign and image for this one just doesn't sit right with me. I don't think it ever will. Rye doesn't belong in a fancy bottle with all the top shelf booze. It belongs buried in the back, and when the bartender takes it out to serve a lone, grizzled, old man, sitting in a dark corner of the bar, fingerprints can be seen in the dust that has collected on the bottle.

Pennsyltuckey Bound

Speak to someone who's visited rural Western Pennsylvania, and there's a good chance you'll hear the word "Pennsyltuckey" used in a derogatory fashion. It's a geographically-specific slur close in line with words like hick, hillbilly, and redneck; but this insult carries with it a sadness, harkening to a proud rural tradition that was forced to find a new home some 215 years ago, and with it a distinctive regional libation.

Before the days of highways and airports, the Appalachian Mountains were a significant geographical boundary cutting through the heart of Pennsylvania. So significant was this barrier that Western Pennsylvania applied to the Continental Congress as a separate state called Westsylvania. They were categorically denied. Still, they fought fiercely in the revolution with rifled-barrel long arms called "Jagers". Once independence was won, they hung up their Pennsylvania Rifles and returned to their lives of farming and distilling a uniquely American spirit: Pennsylvania Rye Whiskey.

When the new federal government imposed exorbitant taxes on small distilleries, the primary source of income for these fiercely independent Westsylvanians was eliminated. The violent Whiskey Rebellion that followed was quelled only when an army larger than was needed to win the revolution marched on Pittsburgh. Rather than bend to federal oppression, many farmers packed up their rifles and whiskey and moved to more remote territories like Kentucky where the federal government had little influence. In this new home, their unique spirits would evolve as corn became the dominant grain, and aging in charred white oak barrels transformed Pennsylvania Rye into Kentucky Bourbon.

But Rye continued to be the dominant spirit in the rapidly expanding United States for over a century, with large companies replacing the over-taxed independent distilleries. Beer or wine were seldom seen as liquor traveled much better; and Rye relied solely on domestic ingredients, unlike the previous American booze king: rum. Even after the Civil War, the American West was not fueled by "redeye" (which is, in fact, not even alcohol, but a highly poisonous derivative of sterno) nor by Bourbon, now revered as the most American of spirits. No, when Doc Holiday strode up to a bar and knocked on the countertop, it would have been a bottle of Pennsylvania, or "Monongahela" Rye that would have been placed in front of him.

Prohibition finally sounded the death-knell for Rye. The advent of the cocktail and the bootlegging of Canadian whiskey during those dry times acclimatized American pallets to sweeter alcohol; and the smoother, smokey taste of bourbon won people over after repelation. Soon the names of Craig and Beam were supplanting Overholt and Schenley on backbars. Rye was at best a specialty, at worst a relic.

Rye survived the remainder of the 20th century through companies like Jim Beam, which produced its own Rye and even purchased Old Overholt in 1987. Now Rye is enjoying a resurgence in popularity, and old and new brands share space on the liquor store shelf. Sazerak, Templeton, Old Overholt, Wild Turkey Green Label, and Jim Beam Yellow Label sit side by side and offer a generous range of whiskey experiences.




Old Overholt still bears a label our afore-mentioned buddy Doc would quickly recognize, though whether the flavor resembles its original Monongahela style is unclear. Still, it offers a light-handed and subtle taste of how fermented rye differs from the sourness of fermented corn.






For that comparison, though, maybe Beam Yellow serves us best. Being made by the bourbon people, it's a sharp taste of what happened when distillers changed their grain bill. It can be harsh for someone used to smooth and sour bourbons, but rewarding if your tongue will allow it past your tonsils.





Templeton is a brand that has taken a strange journey to the 21st century. It's been a registered corporation since 1965, but they recently switched to an older recipe dating back to the company's... less than legal days. Whether or not that story is true, and regardless of the old recipe's resemblance to Pennsylvania Rye, the quality of the product can't be denied. The bouquet demands careful attention; and its sweet, light, and fruity flavor belies its brute alcoholic power.




The most complex flavor composition of this bunch, however, belongs to Sazerac. Though it probably bears little resemblance to the Monongahela spirits the late 18th century, that in no way necessitates a lack of quality. In fact, as far as flavor goes, it shines above all other brands on the market now, offering the full-on kick to the teeth of Rye, with a fruity middle and a cinnamon finish. Perfectly suited for either sipping or shooting, the price is the only thing that makes it not optimal for heavy imbibing.



That title has to be taken by Wild Turkey Green. From the makers of the quintessential finish to a bad day (and start of a bad night) comes high-octane rye whiskey with a Southern accent. Sure, I could scrutinize its forceful Rye bouquet, or the wonderful afterglow that stays in your mouth after the initial burn fades; but the long and shot is it tastes fantastic and will fuck your shit up in a hurry, which for me exemplifies everything that is pure and wonderful about distilled spirits.