I met with some friends for lunch, which was the first meal that was so large I was unable to finish it. This meant a late start to New Glarus—late enough that I wouldn't make it before the brewery closed for the day. I got only the view of it from the highway.
New Glarus is a tiny Swiss theme park, an example of small town charm in full blumen. Two motels are sold out, and the third place has only four rooms. Three are booked, and I'm told the fourth is "really crappy and $100." The Mäd'l at the door insists on showing it, and I pass, upon seeing mysterious stains under the mattress.
I console myself by buying some New Glarus beers at Roy's Market, which has a great selection and probably the best prices you are going to see. I don't like to talk about the price of beers, partly because it's rather political, and partly because beer really only costs what I am willing to pay (which has a tendency to be "fuckin' much"), so I suppose out of potential embarrassment to myself. But big NG bottles there run about $9 if memory serves. Fantastic price for what should rightfully be much more expensive beers (large amounts of fresh fruit needed to brew, world-renowned quality, difficult sour fermentation).
I book it north after that, noting that Prairie Home Companion is over at 7pm in its native time zone. I have difficulty finding a hotel, or indeed, roads that go to places I might want to go, but I luck out and see a sign from a road for that hotel chain I'm trying to earn loyalty points at. More on that, as well as its merit as an idea, at a later date.
I have dinner with a civil engineer, in town for a lecture at the local university, who answers a couple questions I had about pavement (which looks different near Madison, WI). Roads paved in concrete are tougher and require less maintenance, but are more susceptible to corrosion from salt and are more costly to repair, and take longer to set in the first place. Asphalt is more prone to freeze-that cracking and is quieter; in fact, prototype pavement made of recycled tires is in testing for noise reduction. We muse on zoning laws in rich neighborhoods mandating slow speed limits so the rich can enjoy silence, which really cannot be bought by the poor in any event. He also recommends Screwjack, by Hunter S, when I reveal the nature of my blog.
Capital Oktoberfest is recommended by the bartender, who pours me a taste before I could ask for a Spotted Cow. I can't resist. Sweet smelling and malty with a taste to match, but not overwhelming, nutty with maybe some caramel. Really a fantastic exemplar of what an Oktoberfest should be.
And I learned something important that day. Not every great beer is made with local kumquats and cardamom. Or Randallized through reishi mushrooms. Or 11% ABV. Making a 'normal' beer great is hard. Any flaws stand out. Recipe, technique, and discipline become paramount.
That said, I have no qualms about cracking a New Glarus Strawberry Rubharb back in the hotel room. Mercifully, it's only 4% ABV, so it will not destroy me. It smells exactly like jam. Tastes like strawberry soda cut with rubharb, so it's not too sweet. What can I say, they 'get' fruit in a way that few others do, and they've made a name for themselves with it. Faint vinegar tartness... not in a bad way, either. This could be reduced into an excellent salad dressing. Or expanded into pie filling. I expand into pie filling, if the hotel bed were a pie. I reflect that I had mentioned being in Titus Andronicus to those friends from Paragraph Two.
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