There are a few things I appreciate in life: a good meal, a good woman, and a good beer. On most occasions, I am lucky enough to possess at least two of these, and oftentimes all three, but tonight my hot gf took one away from me. It wasn’t her herself–she’s still here, fortunately. Nor did she scold me and send to my room without dinner. Rather, I witnessed her pouring my favorite beer into a pot, for dinner. My dear Murphy’s stout for a beef stew she was preparing.
“Oh, the blasphemy! Of all the beer you could have chosen in our fridge you went with that one!” I said, only without such a tinge of Oxford rhetoric. It was more like Jersey rhetoric: “Babe, what ‘chu take my favorite beer fah?”
“I needed it for the beef stew I’m making you!” she responded with a smile.
“Ah man, you shoulda used my Sam Adams. Those ones suck compared to Murphy’s.”
Chef’s Note: Really, I wanted Guinness but we didn’t have any so I took the next best option assuming Murphy’s was also probably from Ireland. It’s a Stout stew-the week of St. Patrick’s Day; what did he expect?! The beer adds a richness and creaminess to the stew.
I must admit I love my stouts, and had my doubts when I purchased a six of Sam’s cream stouts-in bottles. Everyone who drinks stouts knows they don’t pour nor hit the palette with the same smooth consistency out of a bottle as opposed to a can. It can best be demonstrated by merely pouring one into a glass: watch the foam rise slowly from any canned stout, whereas the bottled ones will fill your glass more like a porter, leaving you desiring more (or less for that matter since you wanted a genuine stout), wishing you had just played it safe by purchasing the tried and true-a can of Guinness or Murphy’s*. I have no idea what that little metal ball within their cans does to make their beer so balanced, but it must be something magical, because the Sam Adams’ ones pale in comparison. Figures some English bastard would fuck it up. If you want an Irish beer, ya best stick with the ones who brew it. (Though I will say, a Samuel Smith Chocolate Stout on the other hand ain’t so bad, even out of a bottle. Regardless, it’s still no traditional Irish stout and therefore not worthy of mentioning.)
Whatever my hot gf did, her choice to use my favorite beer was immediately excused the moment I tasted her beef stew. Sure, I would have preferred she pour my remaining 5 Sam Adams in there over even just one Murphy’s, but in the end I appreciate her intent: she only wants the best in life and that always come out in her cooking. Which poses the perplexing question of: what the hell is she doing with me?
Alas, we can’t all have the best, but on most days good enough will do. Which is why the remainder of the week I will tolerate drinking Sam Adams, while my hot gf tolerates me. As for the rest of you, I think you’ll find her Irish Stout Beef Stew more than tolerable this St. Patrick’s Day.
Happy St. Paddy’s Day!
Chef’s note: There is something about a stew; it is an instantly comforting meal. I wanted to make something this week with an Irish feel in light of the upcoming holiday, and as it happens it has been pissing down rain non-stop here, so this stew was perfect. I took inspiration from Host the Toast’s Recipe, changed a few things around, and made biscuits on the side. A perfect end of winter, Irish comfort meal.
Side note: The Boyfriend, i.e. the editor, i.e. the guy with the final say over what’s put forth on this blog considered omitting “pissing down rain” for sounding ridiculous, but his hot gf reassured him it’s a common UK saying, lexicon which was in fact confirmed by Cambridge dictionary.
*I say this without having yet poured a Left Hand Milk Stout in a glass, as these are distributed in bottles but could be a testament to my beliefs on bottled stouts. However, I am skeptical they will disprove my theory about superior can consistency, aside from the fact that I’m not a huge fan of their rich taste. I prefer my stout creamy and smooth, much like a milk shake, probably because I have always had a sweet tooth. In fact I put some Cliff’s homemade Bailey’s ice cream in a glass of Murphy’s the other night and had one hell of an ice cream float. It’s no wonder my doctor tells me I have high triglycerides.