TheBeerObserver

Wall Street in crisis as stock prices plunge. Businesses large and small closing their doors forever. Millions of Americans out of work, losing their homes…Headlines from CNBC or Bloomberg News? Well, yeah. But the scenario above is also the setting for one of the epic masterpieces of our culture, John Steinbeck’s 1939 classic, The Grapes of Wrath.

 
 Or so they tell me.
 
The embarrassing truth is I’ve never really read the book. I’m a literary guy. Most of my adult life has revolved around the pleasures of reading and writing. Yet there are many major works I have never tackled. To some extent this is a question of opportunity, of timing. But it is also a sad fact of our educational system that far too many teachers lack a real passion for their subjects. They manage to drain even the most powerful works of anything like interest or relevance. For me, that was the case with Grapes. After listening to Ms. Downham’s dreary explication, I could seldom bring myself to read the assigned chapters.
 
Fortunately, I had many more teachers who were excellent. The trials of 10th grade did not ruin Steinbeck completely. His vision of American life, noble and ridiculous in turn, is truly a national treasure. I particularly enjoyed Cannery Row, and its lesser known sequel, Sweet Thursday.
 
 CR depicts the lives of Doc, a marine biologist, and sundry denizens of the waterfront in Monterey, California. There are many great passages, but for purposes of this web-site, the most pertinent is this:
 
While he ate his sandwich and sipped his beer, a bit of conversation came back to him. Blaisedell, the poet, had said to him, "You love beer so much. I'll bet some day you'll go in and order a beer milk shake." It was a simple piece of foolery, but it had bothered Doc ever since. He wondered what a beer milk shake would taste like. The idea gagged him but he couldn't let it alone. It cropped up every time he had a glass of beer. Would it curdle the milk? Would you add sugar? It was like a shrimp ice cream. Once the thing got into your head you couldn't forget it. He finished his sandwich and paid Herman. He purposely didn't look at the milk shake machine lined up against the back wall. If a man ordered a beer milk shake, he thought, he'd better do it in a town where he wasn't known. But then, a man with a beard, ordering a beer milk shake in a town where he wasn't known--they might call the police.
 
 Of course, Since Steinbeck’s time the variety of both beer and ice cream have grown exponentially. Consumers can now choose from a mind boggling range of flavors and styles of both products. With this in mind, I tried to determine if one could actually enjoy a drink that does honor to both brewer and dairyman.
 
The first concoction that came to mind involves the 5th most popular beer in the USA. Santa Anna’s revenge, NAFTA in a bottle – Corona Extra. Since we gringos widely consider a slice of lime to be una necisidad with said cerveza. Lime sherbet seemed the logical extension.
 
Well, maybe not logical. The sad fact is that the very qualities which makes Corona so drinkable and refreshing on a hot afternoon in Veracruz means the flavor could not really stand up to the sherbet. The finished product resembled nothing so much as an extremely weak margarita. Remember a few years back when the tequila tippling world was spooked by a shortfall in the blue agave harvest? Well, if that situation ever arises again, we may have discovered an acceptable approximation
 
But probably not.
 
 From sunny and tropical flavors, I next turned my attention to cloudier countries and darker drafts. I have long enjoyed oatmeal stout. If a billion cookies are to be believed, oatmeal and raisins have a natural affinity. With this in mind, I decided to mix some of  Samuel Smith’s suds with a scoop or two of Haagen Dazs Rum Raisin.
 
For this experiment, I decided to enlist the expertise of my nephew Michael. In addition to being a great kid, Mike is way into Steinbeck. Hell, he’s actually been to Monterey! More importantly, he has recently earned a degree in biology, and now does research for the Harvard Medical School.
 
It may be a question of protocol, but we not able to synthesize a truly satisfying compound. The sweet and bitter elements did not really harmonize. Liberated from their frozen prison, the raisins sank to the bottom of the glass. As for the industrial grade rum in which they were coated – let’s just say that Angostura and Bacardi have little to worry about.
 
Michael’s scientific opinion: “It’s not terrible”. While further lab work may build on these results, who would fund such a dubious investigation?
 
Undeterred, we decided to explore the properties inherent in lambics. It was posited that Lindemans Pomme might have some efficacy with when combined with cinnamomum zeylanicum. The delivery mechanism employed was Ben & Jerry’s Cinnamon Bun Ice Cream.
 
Conclusion: It was awesome! The tart crispness of the beer was a perfect complement to the doughy richness proffered by Vermont’s Finest. Did you ever have hot apple pie a la mode? And when you were done, and no one was looking, did you ever lift the plate and slurp up the residue? The beverage we blended was as delicious as that, and arguably, more socially acceptable.
 
So I am happy to report that you can make a perfectly palatable drink from beer and ice cream. Whether you should, of course, is another question entirely.