OMG a Recipe: Makin' Drunk Whoopie (and other delights)

Makin' drunk whoopie PIES, that is. Get your mind out of the gutter and into the trash with the rest of us! Inspired by booze-infused baked goods, I thought I'd share some recent baking shenanigans. While this features a gluten-rich chocolate whoopie pie adapted recipe, I'm also including a gluten-free chocolate cake recipe that you could make some decent whoopie with. So let's get it on -- start the Barry White/mood music playing!

That's what you get for makin' whoopie (pies) - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Happy Brocktoberfest!

Oktoberfest is upon us... even though in Munich, it's typically celebrated in September. Confused yet? The first celebration in Bavaria was to mark the wedding of Crown Prince Ludwig in 1810, on October 12th, and there was much prolonged merriment that followed. The creeping start time that eventually pushed this festival a month earlier was more out of choosing more favorable weather conditions than strict tradition. Either that or Bavarians are the ultimate Pre-Func drinkers.  Oktoberfest has also come to represent the end of summer, the harvest, and yes, there's beer, but it's typically made with ingredients gathered months earlier, since beer needs some time to ferment. We celebrate Oktoberfest in our own way, sort of a celebration within a celebration (Celebration Inception!), typically heralded by the harvesting of our own beer hops, lovingly fussed-over by the Mister, so I dedicate this post to Brock -- Happy Brocktoberfest!

It's Oktoberfest - let's eat and drink all our carbs! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: The Sweet Life - Dish Up!!

Much like our blessed Memorial Day holiday week, this post is gonna be short n' sweet! Not that you need anyone's permission -- much less mine -- but it's all good in the hood to savor the sweet life. If you can have a bit of dessert, ENJOY IT.

Salted Caramel Chocolates from Fran's? OM NOM IMMEDIATELY - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: My Fruschoppen Brings All the Boys to the Yard...

My fruschoppen brings all the boys to the yaaaaard... And they're like It's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours... I could teach you, but I'd have to chaaaarge.  I don't think Kelis ever had that variation in mind when she did Milkshake a few million pop culture years ago, but that's what I had my brain singing as I was hauling pounds of sausage and bags of pretzels home with me, so that they could be unleashed on a hungry horde. Bavarian brunch anyone? I guarantee it'll bring all the boys (and girls) to the yard. 

Germany does breakfast Like A Boss - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Summer Lovin', Happened So Fast!

For as much as I complain about the heat of summer, or rather, our inability to adjust to the return of the blazing orb in the sky called, The Sun, it's probably the most active time of the year for us Pacific Northwesternites. I literally couldn't keep up with the summertime points of interest on the blog, so I decided to hit the Montage button, and just say a big, huge THANK YOU, SUMMER! Because it'll probably take all winter for us to recover in time for next year's summer. Despite the waning days of August, we'll likely have a summery September to look forward to. Summertime - Onwards!

Unbelievable Northwest summer sunsets! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: Beer-Thirty on the Plate

Beer. Fizzy, foamy, wheat-hops-barley-flavored goodness that carried us through our college years and well into adulthood. And while our tastes may have changed over the years, the Cardinal Rule of Beer remains: No Beer Left Behind! This includes leftover beer from a party, maybe a half-full growler full of microbrew goodness from a local brewery -- it's been a couple of days, it's likely gone flat by now, but the College Kegger Spirit within you whispers in that Animal House/John Belushi voice, "Don't disappoint me. And hey... look, I'm a zit!" Party On, dudes and dudettes -- it's beer for dinner!

Chicken and mushroom beer-sala with pasta - CHEERS! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

FoodTrek: First Encounters of a Seattle Wine and Food Experience

I came, I saw, I ate a lot. And then I took some antacid when I got home before slipping into a massive Food Coma. A Sunday not to be forgotten, I attended my first Seattle Wine and Food Experience, an annual gastronomiconvention that showcases food and drink from the Seattle area, as well as the surrounding Pacific Northwest region. Sensory overload be damned, it was a Super Monstertruck Sunday of food and drink for your digestive system!

One stop on the Omnomnomicon - lovely rillette from Copperleaf Restaurant - Photo by Wasabi Prime

FoodTrek: If it's Tuesday, it Must Be Belgianfest

OK, so it's not Tuesday and Belgianfest happened the week before, but I'm a sucker for movie pun-titled blog posts! And so another beer festival celebrating Belgian-style beers through the lens of Northwest breweries came and went... and what do we have to show for ourselves? Memories of interesting and creative beers and thankfully dodging the Hangover Bullet.

Belgianfest 2013!! Cute little tulip glasses!!!  Exclamation points!!!!!! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I remember attending Washington Beer Commission's  first Belgianfest, held in the very histori-cool South Downtown Seattle Georgetown neighborhood. As seen in this post back in 2010, the Engine Room at Georgetown Studios rocked the Casbah, it had a lot of character. But the downside was its lack of facilities, given the fact that it was an old bottling factory, not a party building -- we were literally running across the street to use the restrooms at a nearby bar nice enough to let us drunkards run in and out after weaving through traffic. It's true when they say, you don't own beer, you just rent it. The next Belgianfest was held at Magnuson Park, a convenient neighborhood spot that a lot of people could just walk or bus to, only adding to its popularity and making it jam-packed with people in record time. So CROWDED. We unfortunately missed last year's Belgianfest but made sure not to miss this year's -- both were held at what I'm assuming is the festival's new home, the Bell Harbor Convention Center, right in Downtown Seattle, by the piers along Alaskan Way. Split into two separate sessions, afternoon and evening, both were totally sold out and despite the big crowds, I have to say the convention center struck just the right balance of getting a big group of beer-drinkers to mingle for some creative beers.

Drinkin' beer at the pier - Photos by Wasabi Prime

We got our beer kicks at Pier 66, wandering the many familiar Washington brewer tables, which had more than 80 Belgian-style beers being offered. That's a whole lotta beer. We of course didn't drink all of it, just sampled the brews that peaked our interest. I will say this: Belgian beers are not typical session beers. You're not going to crack a sour Kriek open at a summer barbecue and slug it down with hotdogs and a handful of Fritos. There are big, wide-audience beer companies who do lighter interpretations, like Fat Tire from New Belgium Brewery, which was probably my first introduction into Belgian beers back in college, but the flavor profile of many of the traditional Belgian style beers at Belgianfest are strongly-flavored and not shy with the tastebuds.

Beers with character! And balloons!! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

There were a lot of colorful character beers, like Anacortes Brewery's Peppercorn Saison and Elysian Brewing's Saison Poivre, which was just that -- strongly peppercorn-forward flavored beer. Seems weird, but an interesting sensation, similar to those beers infused with raw jalapenos. You get an intense savoriness from the beer, with a hint of heat. Several wine-flavored beers, like Black Raven's wine barrel-aged La Mort Rouge, Hale's Ales Hot and Nasty! Saison fermented in a French merlot barrel, and Triplehorn Brewing's Ol du Vin (Beer of the Vine) which collaborated with Patterson Cellars, blending their beer with Patterson's late harvest Roussanne. The red wine beers had a more earthy, robust flavor, while Tripplehorn's use of the Roussanne made their farmhouse Saison more complex, retaining its brighter notes.

Don't forget your favorite hat and tap handle! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I would call these beers Belgian-inspired, since it's really hard to hold back the Pacific Northwestern rebellious brewer spirit that can't help but hop the hell out of beers and play with flavors like a mad scientist. Snipes Mountain Brewing has been a longtime favorite, and they did a nice job with their Terror, a malty and smoky stout fermented with Saison yeast. Slightly tart, but rounded out with five different malted grains, molasses and honey.  It warmed me up on a cold winter's night, that's for sure.

Skulls, bung plugs and beer - it's a party!! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

There were also some new faces to the festival circuit -- even one brewery that's right in our own town of Duvall that I didn't even know about, I'm ashamed to say! The ones I took notice of were Justice Brewing from Everett, Reuben's Brews in Ballard and Duvall's own Duvall Springs Brewing. I didn't get a chance to try Justice, but heard good things about their White and Nerdy, their take on a Belgian Wit. I'll have to try more of Duvall Springs' beer at our local Duvall Grill, as they don't have a tasting room yet, but are keeping the hometown beer mugs full. I really liked Reuben's Brews, and not just because I was thinking of good friends Alice and Reuben, who were getting married that very night over in NYC -- congrats, you guys! Reuben's Brews' Belgian pale ale was a really lovely, crisp beer -- very clean, light citrus notes and one of the few beers that I could see myself having a few pints of, given its smooth drinkability.

The new brews on the block! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Not to say we weren't enjoying ourselves, trying all these funky Belgian beers, but it's definitely a tasting event. More sipping than drinking, and really working those tastebuds, trying to isolate some of the unusual flavor components of the beers. At least, that's what we were doing -- granted, I attended with the Mister and his friend Sean. They were both fresh off a homebrew judge session earlier that day with IPAs. It seems crazy to go from a beer judging day and going straight into a Belgian beer festival evening, but again, it was mostly sipping beers and I'd argue our accumulative tastes that night may have only amounted to a pint and a half's worth, since we were tossing many of the sample pours so our palates wouldn't be totally hosed by night's end. What's the point of trying multiple rare beers if you can't appreciate the flavor, right? Not to say we weren't having our own rowdy time, meeting up with friends and fellow beer-lovers. Civil Inebriation -- we like to keep things classy.

Belgian beer, meet Belgian Waffles! Match made in heaven - Photos by Wasabi Prime

We fortified prior to Belgianfest at the almighty Fatburger. That's something I rarely have the pleasure of saying, but that's what happened. Burger-ified, I was still giving much admiration to Sweet Iron Waffles' sweet and savory options being served up at the festival. Their Belgian style waffles are a perfect match, and they've been consistent beer festival vendors, keeping the crowds happy and Nutella-ified. Their brie and basil remains one of my favorites, but if my gut isn't completely engorged with Fatburger like a freshly-fed snake, I'll have to indulge in their sweet salted caramel waffle.

Never roam without your Beer Gnome - Photos by Wasabi Prime

We departed Belgianfest 2013 beer-happy and thankfully unscathed by a hangover the next day. Again, I think the sipping quality of these beers lends itself well to impulse control. You get a happy beer buzz with enough time to sober up to get home, and still wake up bright-eyed and hangover-free the next day. A beer festival success, if there ever was one!

FoodTrek: Maui Part Deux - Pizza and Beer, With Aloha

What's a pair greater than pizza and beer? Yeah, that's right -- NOTHING. They were together long before peanut butter and chocolate, and way-way before those Twilight kids hooked up for some vampiric bump n' grind. And so it should be no surprise that in the lush paradise of Maui, Pizza and Beer: A Love Story, continues on...

Oh what a feeling... drinking beer on the ceiling... - Photo by Wasabi Prime

In the second installment of Mauianigans (Maui + Shenanigans - duh), we managed to fit a trip to a local brewery in Lahaina and a from-scratch pizza place in Kihei. Not in the same day, mind you, but these separate excursions were too good not to put together as tasty suggestions for your next visit to the island of Maui. I credit Mr. Wasabi for organizing a tasting tour of the Maui Brewing Company. Brock was talking to his beer pals and someone said, "So of course you'll be visiting the brewery, right?" To which the obvious answer was, "Of course!" with hasty Googling afterwards, to figure out where the place was, and whether or not the brewery was open to the public for tours. The answer to that is no -- they don't do regular tours, but if you can get at least ten of your thirstiest friends together and schedule a time with them, they'll do a personal tour of the brew facilities with a tasting session afterwards for $10, including a wooden token good for a full pint at their brewpub, which is offsite from the brewery, at the Kahana Gateway Center. 

Look for the big, shiny brewing equipment and follow the arrows! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Maui Brewing Company's brewery and tasting room is located off Brock's favorite highway to say - Honoapiilani Highway, which goes right through Lahaina, but it's a little tricky to find. It's a working brewery, so it's in an industrial area hidden behind a few other street-facing buildings. The best visual signpost to signal you're within spitting distance is the Sugar Cane Train station, which has a pretty distinctive vintage train engine sitting out on a lawn. The brewery itself is about a row of buildings back, and you'll see that they've used some of their brewing equipment tagged for signage to let you know where to enter. The tasting room is a cool, laid-back place to grab a beer. No food, since they have the brewpub for that, but it's a great hands-on experience to see how the beer is made. Maui  Brewing Company has been making the good sudsy stuff since 2005, and it's the biggest breweries on the islands in. They have several signature beers: Bikini Blonde, Big Swell IPA, Mana Wheat and CoCoNut PorTeR, which you've likely seen and tasted on the Mainland, thanks to the fact they use cans instead of bottles. Beer in cans is like wine in boxes -- there's a stigma that makes you think "bad" or "cheap," but Maui Brewing Company is working towards adjusting people's drinking mindframes and realizing it all comes down to blessed science and good economic sense. The cans are less expensive than bottling, and they maintain the beer's quality better than glass, which can still allow light to affect the beer. Given the traveling these mighty sixers have to do, going as far as the East Coast, a secure and lightweight beer-shuttle is a necessity. The cans also ensure more beer can be shipped, so that's a good thing as well.

Where Maui beer is BORN - Photos by  Wasabi Prime

Maui Brewing Company is all about showing local love -- even the cans are locally produced. I learned on the tour that the ridges near the top of the can is like a branding from the can manufacturer, which in this case is on Oahu. If you see a can with the little ridges towards the top, that can was made in Hawaii, which would explain why I remember all those POG and guava juice cans having that unique feature. Ah, sweet, sweet knowledge! But back to the local ingredients, they integrate as much of the islands' flavors into the beers as possible, like the coconut for the porter, or for one of their special seasonal brews, the Aloha B'ak'tun, a spicy, smoky brew made with local chocolate. Their most popular beers are the lighter ones like the Bikini Blonde, Big Swell IPA and Mana Wheat, which you can find at most bars who serve Maui Brewing Company's tasty suds. They have a light, delicate flavor -- sunkissed, I dare say, and perfect after a hot day on the beach. And plenty ono with some pauhana pupus, like boiled peanuts and edamame. Our Pacific Northwest palates were more intrigued with their heavier, more complex CoCoNut PorTeR and that seasonal chocolate-spiced B'ak'tun, which I'm totally going to track down at our favorite Redmond beer shop, Malt and Vine.

Drankin' with friends and plenty aloha at Maui Brewing Co's tasting room - Photos by Wasabi Prime

It's good news to hear that Maui Brewing Company's doing so well that they're moving to larger facilities this year -- time to level up! No specific date announced, but it won't cause any slowdown in the production of their precious beer, and the brewpub will be open during the transition. I have to give a brewery operating in Maui a lot of credit -- it's a hot place, they're making a product that's extremely sensitive to temperature and moisture, maintaining equipment that is constantly exposed to some amount of salt spray that's nearly everywhere in the islands. They make a commitment towards sustainability, both in energy efficiency on their part with the beer canning, solar power usage, biodiesel made from their brewpub kitchen and used for their vehicles, as well as making sure their brewery waste is reused as much as possible -- they donate the spent grain to local farms for feed and compost. You know you're drinking to the Circle of Life when you're cracking into one of their beers. They make a quality product through a process with a conscience -- even if you're not a beer drinker, you have to appreciate that.

Enough beer-talk -- let's EAT. And drink more beer. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

We took our precious beer token to Maui Brewing Company's brewpub, which is maybe a fifteen minute drive from the brewery, give or take pauhana traffic. Really cool place. I loved the repurposed beer keg decor, from the entrance to their industrial light fixtures, complete with plugged bungs. Bung. Heh-heh. From a beer-drinking standpoint, the brewpub, along with food, serves more of Maui Brewing Company's beers -- small-batch, seasonal beers and specials like their Ginger Saison, which I very much enjoyed. Their food menu reflects the same locavore mentality behind their beers -- Maui onion soup, salads made with local hydroponic greens, and of course a lot of their dishes are made with their beer, like their chili or beef stew. I went for their beef stew made with their porter and locally-raised beef. I have to say, of all the beer-infused stews I've had, this one really retained that smoky-bitter porter taste in a nicely flavor-forward way. You weren't going to get drunk off beef stew, but there was no doubt they used that CoCoNut PorTeR in the gravy. And served with a scoop of rice, of course!

Beer-battered brie? Why the heck not? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Brock ordered their Pub Plate, which was Hawaii pub-style: kalua pork, one scoop rice, one scoop potato-mac salad, and a side of their house barbecue sauce made from their porter. I snuck a bite -- it was ono plenty. We also had their beer battered brie served with caramelized pineapple sauce, which is just a fancy way of saying FRIED CHEEEEEEESE. Aside from the fact it was molten hot, as if Pele herself had flipped the bird at this cheese, it was delicious, almost like a slightly deconstructed fondue, with the creamy pineapple sauce, gooey brie and pieces of bread. One of our brewpub crew ordered the nachos, which the simple name doesn't do it justice. It should be called King Kamehameha Nachos because these were downright royal. A volcano-sized pile of kalua pork, black beans, fresh salsa and jalapenos... and maybe a few tortilla chips thrown in there for good measure. The thing was gloriously ridiculous, and even when the pile was mostly gone, no one wanted the plate to leave the table, continuing to pick at it and keeping the servers from taking it away. Damn, that's some good nacho.

There was beer... now there's pizza at Fabiani's - Photo by Wasabi Prime

And so the beer was had... what about the pizza? I'll admit, I had my heart set on a sushi night. Gorge myself like a fat seal on whatever fish we could get our hands on at one of the sushi spots in Kihei that other travelmates had recommended. I was ready to be harpooned for sushi. But as most days and nights spent with a group of friends on a giant company vacation, you settle in with an early evening cocktail and ideas get thrown about over where to go for dinner. Fabiani's Pizza and Bakery was a name that came up as a place to check out, so sayonara, sushi -- it's Italiano, Aloha-style!

Fabiani's is in Kihei, a little off the beaten path in a small strip mall off Lipoa Street. They serve breakfast, lunch and dinner, handmade baked goods -- a total gem. It's clearly a popular neighborhood spot, as it was busy on a weeknight and that's always a good sign. The owner, Lorenzo Fabiani, is from Italy, so it's not one of those places that just tacks on an Italian-sounding name on the sign. It's all legit, yo. The chef is from Chicago, but don't think the pizzas are thick, doughy pies -- their crust is crispy, cracker-thin Roman-style, but sturdy enough to carry weighty toppings like The Mauian, which is kalua pork, Maui sweet onions, pineapple and a sweet barbecue sauce to balance the smokiness of the pork. We also tried the Maui Meaty, which is just that -- Supermeat! Italian sausage, pepperoni and ham - chomp. A more delicate and elegant offering is the namesake Lorenzo, topped with fresh mozzarella, proscuitto and a finish of fresh arugula drizzled with truffle oil, which made for a wonderful earthy, bitter green flavor combination. This was not an unhappy table. We also nom-nommed some artichoke dip and I was tempted by their house salad, which was made up of fresh greens from Kula, tossed with a vinaigrette made with lilikoi and vanilla, but my eyes fixated on their Aloha-talian mashup, Tako Carpaccio. Thinly sliced raw octopus drizzled in olive oil, sprinkled with fresh tomatoes and pine nuts. Unusual combination, but the fresh octopus with olive oil was heavenly; the briny earthiness of that cephalopod paired nicely with the richness of the oil. It wasn't sushi, but it definitely curbed my yen for seafood that night.

Aloha-talian -- I totally just made that up - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Italian food is the last thing I'd normally go for while in Hawaii, mostly because the majority of places are likely national chains -- not that I won't say never to deep-dish Pizza Hut guilty pleasuring. A pizza isn't something I'm going all the way to Hawaii to have -- HOWEVER, I would definitely go back to Fabiani's. It's got the local-transplant vibe of a neighborhood restaurant that took one culture's home cooking and adapted it beautifully to the islands, which is exactly how all the "Local" Hawaii foods came to be, from Spam Musubi (US military and Hormel) to kalua pork (pigs ain't local, yo!), even the sweet Hawaii-style bread and spicy sausage (god bless the Portuguese). My regret, as always, is that there wasn't enough time to go back and try their pastries and have more of their tasty food, but that's what finding a food gem is all about, looking forward to returning again.

There's still more Maui love to come -- I've got adventure on the high seas where all I could think of was that insufferably cheesy line from Star Trek IV: the Voyage Home, where Scotty says, "Thar be WHALES, Captain!" With that totally awesome preface, I'm sure you CAN'T WAIT!!!! Mahalo.

FoodTrek: Releasing the Kraken at Rocktoberfest

The day before I left for Oktoberfest in Leavenworth, I had Liam Neeson in my head, a la Zeus, from that moderately amusing remake of a much better classic Ray Harryhausen stop-action-animation masterpiece, Clash of the Titans, shouting, RELEASE THE KRAKEN!  An Irishman being a Greek god, dressed in an impossibly shiny silver suit of armor, was on constant loop as my mental meme prefunc before I partook of my very Festing-of-Oktober. My First Oktoberfest, if you can believe it. Because nobody puts Baby in a corner, not where there's this much public drunkenness to be had.

It's 11pm, Do You Know How Drunk Your Children Are? - Photo by Wasabi Prime

To be clear, this is Leavenworth the faux-Bavarian-themed town in Washington, not the medium security federal prison in Kansas. Although I would argue that the quaint Leavenworth village is chock-full of as many police and private security for the next few weekends as the eponymous prison. This past weekend was Day One of the Zombie Beer Apocalypse, there's two weekends left, the 12-13th and 19-20th. The Leavenworth Oktoberfest has been festing-it since 1998, having their distinctively European-themed village raise a beer stein to its Munich origins and celebrating this annual European tradition which has been festing-it for a considerably longer time -- try 1810. A group of our friends have been making the trek to Leavenworth's Oktoberfest somewhere in between 1810 and 2012, probably the last two or three years, and this was the first year I was able to make it. Prost!

Beyond boot-shaped steins and beer mugs the size of your head, Leavenworth is a bizarre and marvelous place. You drive through beautiful evergreen-topped mountains made extra-splendid with the autumn colors starting to come in, you notice building rooftops starting to become more Alpine chalet-angled, and suddenly you find yourself in an oddly Disneyland-like place. The buildings resemble a picturesque Bavarian village and  almost every wall has hand-painted murals of lederhosened lads and dirndl-wearing ladies. There's a city ordinance requiring all businesses to Bavarianize their signage and building storefront design -- even big-business companies like Starbucks, Safeway, McDonalds and Union 76 gas stations all have to comply. It's the one place that if you were a specialty muralist or sign-painter, you would be flush with business, year-round.

Bavarian Sign-Spotting at Leavenworth's Oktoberfest - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Despite Leavenworth's themepark-like look, it's a beautiful place. Surrounded by evergreen-topped peaks and great rivers for rafting and rock formations for climbing, it's a haven for outdoor activities during the summer. I've spent non-festival time here as a lunch stop on the way to a campground or resting a night after a long day on the water. The village has cute stores full of little treasures, either inspired by or imported from Germany and plenty of things visitors love, like little wine shops with tasting bars, and boutiques clearly marketed towards female consumers, since they know the fellas will likely be off drinking beer. It's a clever town, this Leavenworth. One of the must-visit shops is Cured. On the first floor and owned by the Italian restaurant, Visconti's, Cured is a charcuterie, sausage and pickled-everything treasure. They make their own dry-aged salumi, including Soppressata Cotto, Vanetta, Smoked Paprika, Cervalot, and Felino, among others. They do their own sausages, which are sold fresh at their shop or cooked-up in their next-door Cured Sausage Garden area, where you can try their traditional bratwurst, bockwurst, currywurst, and a few vegetarian sausages as well.

Head to Cured, dry-aged meat heaven - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The company I travel in is a protein-hungry group, so Cured is like their Meat Nirvana. Dry-aged meat sticks that are way fancier than snapping into a SlimJim, and incredibly tender beef jerky was picked up as beer-fortification for the first night of Festing. We hovered around Cured, migrating to their Sausage Garden for dinner to partake of their meats. (Insert joke here) I had my first beer at their sausage garden, a basic Oktoberfest beer, which is nice and light, perfect to go with hearty food. I got one of their currywurst, a pork sausage seasoned with curry and tomato, making it a little on the sweet side, and a little fragrant from the curry's mix. My mindgrape was fully blown by the giant table of condiments -- there were half a dozen different mustards: traditional with the whole seeds, spicy, and some funky flavors like a pineapple mustard. I felt like I had won the Condiment Lottery, and like all lottery winners, I made hasty, binge-like decisions. That poor currywurst didn't know what hit it, but despite the avalanche of toppings, Cured has by far The Best Sausage Place for Oktoberfest in Leavenworth. And of course there was sauerkraut, which also makes Oktoberfest the unofficial Digestion Challenge Festival. The running joke throughout Oktoberfest was the growing food/beer babies we were all carrying, which I'm sure had a lot to do with a lowered tolerance for gluten, thanks to a protein-heavy diet. While no one had any allergies, this whole weekend of carbohydrate-laden food combined with an overabundance of beer and sauerkraut led to Octomom-sized bellies ready to burst. Note to self: prep the week before Oktoberfest with some Hefeweizen and bring a lot of antacid.

An indulgence of food riches and the Beer Baby we all became inevitably pregnant with - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Our main beer spot was scouted the year before by my travelmates -- given the huge crowds for the main Oktoberfest tents and halls, it's nice to have a beer or twelve in a smaller beer garden without losing your voice, trying to shout over the noise to the person sitting next to you. I give to you, der Hinterhof Leavenworth Beer Garden, the unofficial "Rocktoberfest" alternative to the main tents, located amusingly enough within strolling distance of the local medical center, on 9th Street, right next to The Adventure Inn hotel. Reasons this place is awesome: more interesting/better/local beers than the typical Oktoberfest offerings (and more kind to the wallet), it's dog-friendly, there's always live music but it's not ear-splitting loud or pure polka, they take their beer pong deadly serious, and there's a dude named Teague who has the most epic mullet and bacon shirt-tuxedo in the known universe and he will school your ass at Trivia Pursuit. I could see myself spending a few obligatory hours in the main Oktoberfest tents, but let's just say if I managed to stay happily buzzed at der Hinterhof for the duration of a festival weekend, I will not be sad. One thing to remember -- bring a heavy coat. During the day, the weather was beautiful and even sunscreen-worthy if you're not under their tents, but at night, the temperature dropped as fast as a prom dress and we were wondering if mulled beer could ever be a thing, so remember fortune and drunkenness favors the prepared having winter coats. I'm already hatching a plan for next year, seeing if we can bring Indy with us, as I was on such fuzzy dog withdrawal, especially with all the other adorable dogs at this beer garden, including  Napoleon, the Newfoundland wearing the Drool is Cool barrel collar.

Wilkommen to der Hinterhof - you may never leave this awesome place for the official tents - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I'm not dissing the main Oktoberfest beer garden tents, as that is truly a sight to behold. With the costumes that go beyond typical traditional wear, the best way to describe it on a Saturday night is Carnivale. It's a lot more line-waiting, but with enough beers, that stick up your ass that's normally there any other time of the week is magically gone, and you just make a lot of new friends and giggle nonstop at all the funny hats people are wearing. That experience was saved for our last night, which I was glad we rested-up for with naps (because we are not all 20-somethings anymore) and heavily fortified ourselves with pizza, bacon and steak beforehand. Oh, the indigestion! Oh, the glory! Oh, the humanity!!

Saturday Night Kraken Fever at Oktoberfest - Photos by Wasabi Prime

My takeaway from the big night in the Oktoberfest tents was this: get a monster-sized glass stein only if you're wanting to lug that thing everywhere and babysit it like, well, a beer-baby. Towards the end of the night, table bussers were pulling everything, including unattended mugs, so kiss that $12 goodbye. And the pourers can't fill the mugs directly, which I know sounds crazy. Thank Washington State alcohol laws that continue to abandon logic and reason. You buy tickets, which you then trade in for food, beer or souvenirs -- makes sense for quick transactions, I love it. However the logic train ends there, because to fill one of those monster mugs, it takes about three or four regular pours of beer, but the catch is that they'll only serve two beers per person at a single time. So you need a table home-base where someone can watch your empty mug while you make two trips in a long line to get the four beers that will fill your giant souvenir mug. Got that? Needless to say I did not get a mug, nor will I for any future Oktoberfests, that's just too much fuss when I'm perfectly happy nursing a single beer at a time. It wasn't a dealbreaker, everyone in our group were old pro's at this beer line game, so we stuck with tents that had seating and people went in shifts to beerify. I was happily buzzed, amused by music that was a weird mix of polka-swing, polka-funk and traditional polka, depending on the bands who were playing. Judging from the funny drawing a friend sent, my Unleashing of the Kraken was fairly pleasant and uneventful.

The Mister mugs for the camera and shows off his pin collection - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Also, what-the-what, the Oktoberfest people were herding everyone out of the main tents by 10:30, if you can believe it. Not that I was looking to fully poison my liver that Saturday, but they were on heavy crowd control alert, herding people from tents to consolidate, and pulling the party ripcord fairly early. Granted, they had already had a full night of several crowd incidents that I totally missed out on. Pantsless women? Fist-swinging drunkards with viking helmets? Curses, I miss all the good stuff. We of course wound up back at der Hinterhof and then eventually back at the condo we were all staying in, which kept the Festing going till about 3. Which leads me to another must-do for Oktoberfest: Stay In Town. Walking distance to the main village is key, for ease of access and just safety as a whole -- hide your car keys for an Oktoberfest weekend, don't be stupid. Sure, it might seem tempting to stay at a picturesque lodge at a berry farm 15 minutes outside of Leavenworth, thinking there will be shuttles to take you back and forth, hoping one of your friends will manage to stay sober, or perhaps you can just ride a unicorn on the way back to your dwelling. Just pony-up the extra Benjamins and roomie-up with friends for a weekend. A group of us stayed at a condo rental at Alpine Place, maybe a mile from the center of town, easily walkable and plenty of handy places along the way for things like coffee, quick meals or a convenience store run. Breakfast is a challenge during Oktoberfest, it's when the restaurants are hit the hardest for a single meal time, so having a full kitchen to make breakfast with coffee and have a lazy morning is so worth it.

Falling in love with Fall and Oktoberfest in Leavenworth - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I knew I would have a good time at Oktoberfest, but it wasn't for the obvious beer drinking or the drunken-tipsy times. I finally got it. I get why people are in love with Oktoberfest, why one friend said with such certainty, that, "Oktoberfest is my happy place." The natural beauty of Leavenworth, especially with fall in the air, made the whole town feel like an imaginary wonderland. Despite the heavy crowds of people during the day, I found time to carve out some "Me Time," with a cold but refreshing early morning jog and leisurely browsing a few stores before everything got crazy. I was with really great people, and they knew the best way to navigate the festival from previous years, so it felt like a guided tour outside of the typical experience. But the point was, I finally got it and I'm really looking forward to Oktoberfest in Leavenworth next year.

UnRecipe: Nacho, Nacho Man... I Want to Be a Nacho Man...

The ability to endlessly drop quotes from The Simpsons is like a superpower. A lame, proof-of-no-social-life superpower that would likely not get any consideration from the Justice League if they were ever taking resumes. But my lame superpower is a real thing. Because I was singing Homer Simpson's "Nacho Man" song (to be sung in the tune of The Village People's "Macho Man," if you didn't already suss that out) in a constant loop while I was making a heaping plate of nachos not long ago. It also helped that I had the power of Duffman with me, because I was a little tipsy at the time. More like drunk as a skunk, and it was all for the sake of a social experiment, proving why nachos are the Perfect Food. Because be you blissfully inebriated or stone-cold sober, you can't get them wrong. Bless you, Nachos. Bless you.

The "control" part of the experiment - Sober Nachos - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I've never claimed to be the Queen of Intelligent Decision-making Skills. In fact, I somewhat relish the messy imperfections of life, a la 30 Rock's Liz Lemon, or a marathon of Chelsea Handler rants because I appreciate people -- women, especially; even TV characters -- who just fumble through life and just say whatever they're going to say. Cluttered, sloppy anarchy appeals to me. I love Martha Stewart crafts and the picturesque lives portrayed on other blogs, and I stare at them dreamily as I drink the last few guzzles of wine straight from the bottle because dammit, I just don't want to wash another glass. "Perfect" is a tricky word. It's as subjective as ice skating or child beauty pageants or any number of annoyingly loathsome things. But I dared to seek out Perfection when I had the monster-craving for nachos after a particularly long day and a thankful abundance of fresh produce.

Salsa that isn't made in New York City (New York City?! Get a rope.) - Photos by Wasabi Prime

As mentioned before, this was an experiment of sorts, where there were two Nacho Sessions: one platter where the ingredients were carefully selected and crafted with care, and a second platter where Duffman thrusted in my general direction with boozeahol and I attempted to make another nacho platter while completely drunkfaced. It all started out with a can't-go-wrong base: homemade salsa. I had a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, including tomatoes, a red onion, fresh cilantro, tangerines, mangoes -- boom, into the salsa party they went, chop-chop-chop. It takes a few hours, or even better, overnight, for the salsa to really come together in terms of flavor. It was great on its own with some plain tortilla chips, but I knew the citrusy-fresh salsa would be dynamite with a cheesy nacho platter. 

Fresh salsa and chips - had to taste-test to make sure it was good, right? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

So I constructed the Nacho Perfection in a clear-headed state, using the fresh salsa and making a batch of white cheddar cheese sauce, versus shreds of cheese. Fancy, no? But worth it, because the fondue-like sauce won't set up like tree sap once it starts to cool, and being more viscous, it drips and oozes through the layers of piled-up chips. Sexy, right? To really get the ideal salsa/topping-to-corn chip ratio, it's better to spread a layer of chips, then the salsa, then another layer of chips over that, and so on. Gravity will ensure the cheese sauce gets to where it needs to go. A finish of chopped fresh avocado over the top, and it's true Nacho Perfection down to a science. I loved every bite of it and wondered, why don't I make this more often? To which my sober mind ruefully answered: because you'll get huge, stupid. Better go for a run after this. Damn you, Common Sense. Damn you to hell.

My momentary junk food high got me thinking, what is it about corn chips doused with cheese and a random smattering of vegetables that really speaks to the teenage stoner in all of us? I think that sentence sort of answers itself. But there is a casual comfort in eating a literal pile of food on a plate with your fingers.  It's meant to look like a mess, fancying it up would be missing the point, there's an endless number of customizations and it's the food you overdosed on in college because it was super-easy to make in the microwave, especially after a raging kegger. And it always tasted good, that mixture of gooey cheese, crispy chips, salty-salty madness. And even when the cheese cooled, forming a Nacho Pangea of chips and solidified fake cheddar, you just ate it like a pizza before passing out on the couch.

Sobriety, Interrupted. The Drunk Nacho Experiment with equally delicious results - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Those blissful memories of my early twenties and a much more efficient metabolism were with me when I had a brewski or twoski. Or maybe it was wine. Or liquor. I lost track. It was for SCIENCE, I told myself. And then I thought of that Simpsons episode where Homer is at a baseball game and gets a giant sombrero-top hat hybrid made out of corn chips, where the top is full of liquid cheese, and the idea is you break off a bit of the brim, dip into your cheesy hat-bowl, and enjoy, whilst singing "Nacho Man." You can't make this stuff up. This is why The Simpsons is a treasure for our troubled age. So that was in my head while I tipsily threw together a second batch of nachos, this time with the addition of bacon. Because I wanted to reserve the bacon fat. Because I wanted to use it to make a batch of cheese sauce, but with the power of bacon. Because... because... I love you, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan... *burp*

The Drunk Nachos weren't as prettily put together. The bacon got a little burned. The cheese sauce was a little grainy. The settings on the camera were out of sorts. But by golly, the nachos were still delicious. Imagine a BLT version of nachos. The leftover salsa made it in there somewhere, but this version was mostly cheese, due to my overeager drunkenness. I didn't care, my tastebuds rejoiced and I had a satisfyingly indulgent dinner where my Common Sense Inner Voice was rufie-d silent from laying an exercise guilt trip on me. As Homer would say: Beer... now there's a temporary solution.

Admit it, you want to be a Nacho Man, or possibly Duffman - Photos by Wasabi Prime

What did this prove beyond my love of The Simpsons, alcohol and cheese-covered corn chips? Not much, but I was pleased to test the unbreakable power of nachos. Promises get broken, civilizations fall, but know that Nachos are Forever.

Mixed Plate: Food Mysteries and Homemade Ricotta

The world is full of wondrous things, my friends. The Aurora Borealis. The instinctive migratory patterns of birds. The ebb and flow of the ocean's tides. Neighbors refusing to put their garbage cans away days after trash day. Magnets. Yes, Horatio, there is plenty of totally wack stuff on earth, as it is in heaven, and making your own homemade fresh cheese is one of those wiggety-wack things.

Fresh ricotta and home-pickled beets with baby oregano - schmancy! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Cheese isn't all that mysterious, but it's no less amazing when you taste something freshly made, like ricotta. It's probably one of the easiest fresh cheese to make at home because you likely have all the ingredients just sitting around in your kitchen: whole milk, salt and vinegar. That's it. I'm serious. No complicated aging process, no obscure equipment beyond a good fine-mesh metal strainer, and joy of joys, it's fast. I was inspired by the fresh ricotta and melon salad from a One Night Only dinner event last month. It was a reminder that I really needed to make my own ricotta because I knew it was so simple. After finding this recipe for making microwave ricotta from Serious Eats, it went from beyond simple to a flat-out crime that I haven't done this sooner. Yes, for reals -- microwave ricotta. The article makes a good argument for why it's a more effective means of evenly heating the milk as it goes through its curdling process from the vinegar. And yes, holy crap, it's super fast. You could easily make a batch of this in an hour and change. The recommendation for using paper towels versus cheesecloth was perfect, as I was down to one scrawny scrap of the stuff. Once it was drained and to the consistency I liked, I had a little taste and put the rest away to sprinkle on other foods for the next couple of days. Since it's a fresh cheese and there's no weirdo chemicals and preservatives in it like the store-bought stuff, use it fast. Although it's so good, I doubt it will last long enough to go bad.

My only complaint, and it's not with the recipe, is about the overall cheese-making process. You go through a lot of milk to get a decent amount of finished cheese. I know that's the nature of cheese; it's an ancient method designed to concentrate and potentially preserve a supply of milk, which is all well and good. I was just like, dang, now I gotta buy another carton of milk for our coffee. The recipe is for about maybe a scant quarter to half cup's worth of ricotta, depending on how long you let it drain and concentrate its texture. It's not a bad finished amount of cheese, especially if you're crumbling it over a salad or in my case, I paired it with some pickled beets with a drizzle of olive oil, oregano sprigs and fresh cracked pepper. I love fresh ricotta, the wonderful creamy, milky-sweet flavor, and it's ideal in a salad to appreciate it fully. If I were to make this for say, lasagne, I'd probably have to triple the recipe if you wanted it to be a ricotta-heavy dish. Although even in that case, I'd almost rather make a manicotti-style dish and use lighter ingredients like butternut squash, just so you can celebrate the fact you made fresh cheese and probably went through a gallon or two of milk to do it.

Food mysteries, from our kitchen to yours - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The process of making cheese, while perfectly explainable in scientific terms, still feels satisfyingly magical. Amazing that something we all love so much can be so simple to make at home, and why more people don't do it more often. Sure, it's not as easy as picking it up from the store, but at least when you're making something from scratch you gain a new appreciation for it. There's really no cooking involved beyond a quick spin in the microwave. It would actually be a nice little project to do with kids since there's no hot stoves or sharp objects involved, and the finished product can be eaten almost immediately.

While unraveling the mysteries of fresh cheese, I decided, why not share additional Kitchen Mysteries that I've been collecting? On my large wood cutting board, I swear there's an outline of a figure boldly standing with the words "Goo" written backwards on his chest. Cutting Board Wicker Man! Or maybe the letters spell "God" and after this post, I'll be host to a flock of fundamental revivalist nutjobs insisting my cutting board will heal the sick and make the lame walk. No snake handlers! And I remain firm in my belief that the outline of the Loch Ness Monster was in my beer when I was at Adam's Northwest Bistro a while back. You don't see her prehistoric shape floating in the beer foam?? I'm perfectly sober now and I still see Nessie in that beer. And why aren't more people wearing bacon scarves? The shape and wave pattern seem ideal for crafty types who knit and crochet to their heart's content -- we can't be the only ones out there with a bacon-knitted scarf. Maybe I'm just asking the universe for more answers than it's willing to provide. Or we've just run out of interesting things on Netflix so I'm rewatching old X-Files episodes again while pondering that celebrity rumor that David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson hooked up in real life. I heard it's bunk, but still. The world remains, as it should be, full of tantalizing mysteries. Tah-tah for now, I'm off to eat a bowl of fresh ricotta...

OMG a Recipe (Book): Cool Ice Cream Books and Not a Fetal Kitten to be Found

Aside from over 12 years of unwedded bliss, the Mister has gifted me with things like a food processor (two, actually, after I killed the motor on the first one trying to grind meat - oopsie), a standing mixer, a vacuum cleaner and a DVD player back when I was still trying to rub sticks together to make fire. Lest ye think he's Homer Simpson giving Marge a bowling ball with "Homer" printed on it, I really did want and appreciate all those things, however pragmatic some of them may be. He surprises me now and then with things I didn't ask for, but am very glad to receive, such as a copy of the Humphry Slocombe Ice Cream Book. Dish up, it's time for Northern California hipster ice cream!

Ice cream and beer float with Humphry - Photo by Wasabi Prime

It's finally feeling like the perfect time to be making ice cream from scratch. Not that it's inappropriate to be making it smack-dab in the middle of winter -- I do it -- but when the sun is out and the pale Seattleites are crawling out like albino moles from their cubicles, hissing at the burning orb in the sky, the season is right for ice cream. And the good stuff, because we need an excuse to skitter back indoors after standing out in 75 degree heat for fifteen minutes and deciding it's too hot. So why not make some unusual flavors of ice cream like Cinnamon Brittle or White Miso with pear or apple? Or better yet, an excuse to make ice cream called Elvis (The Fat Years), Here's Your Damn Chocolate Ice Cream, or Government Cheese? Enter Humphry Slocombe.

I've never actually had the ice cream from Humphry Slocombe, given the fact that I live in Washington and they are located in California (it's a bit of a drive), but they're a widely celebrated ice creamery that creates innovative flavors utilizing both sweet and savory ingredients incorporating farm-fresh goods from local growers. They turn the notion of a "cute" ice cream shop on its head, drag it out into the middle of the road and kick it a few times before cracking a few Yo Mama jokes as it whimpers off to the land of 31 Flavors. Yes, it's Hipster Ice Cream taken to Eleven. Which just means it's flavor-smart, pop culture-rich and an intelligent sense of humor to go with some dope-ass tasty scoopz. The Humphry Slocombe shop is based out of the Mission District in San Francisco, a sign of eternal coolness, started up by manager Sean Vahey and chef Jake Godby. And no, not a Humphry to be seen among the lot of them. So why is this book the hotness? It pretty much shares all their signature ice cream flavor recipes, but more importantly, it's a damn funny read. I particularly like the Day in the Life of Sean/Jake, where there's mentions of Native American prostitutes, counting condoms on the walk to work, trading cookies for cocktails and boiling wieners in a coffee maker, all in a day of running a popular ice cream shop in the Mission.

And what's with the Fetal Kitten? It's written on a Warhol-like set of soup can art on the shop wall and it's the de facto response when a person asks, "What's your next kooky flavor?" There's a reason behind this somewhat beguilingly disgusting response, which is that their ice cream flavors aren't weird, they're innovating beyond what we've come to accept as traditional ice cream, and I appreciate that. I also appreciate the part of the story where they write "Fetal Kitten" on the menu, then cross it out, which gets responses ranging from shock to disappointment that someone bogarted all the Fetal Kitten Ice Cream.

Just don't call the ice cream flavors "weird" - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I did not, in fact, make ice cream made from baby cats, much to Indy's disappointment. I went a little more middle-of-the-road and tried their Roasted White Chocolate and Lavender ice cream. The roasting of white chocolate is genius because to be honest, I kind of hate white chocolate and I couldn't say why I had a half bag of leftover white chocolate chips in the pantry. But I have a new appreciation for it when it's roasted in the oven at 300 degrees -- it doesn't melt, it just toasts and the flavor caramelizes into something better, stronger, faster, more Bionic and Six Million Dollar Manly. It also gets dry, crumbly and something resembling the crud you'd scrape off your shoe, so steeping its toasty rich flavor in cream and straining out the ugly bits makes it ideal for ice cream.

A beautiful ice cream made with two ingredients Jake Godby hates - brilliant! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I also had quite a bit of dried lavender, leftover from a friend's considerable home garden harvest a few seasons ago -- the stuff lasts forever if it's sealed up tight and stored well. The lavender almost acts like vanilla, adding a floral roundness of flavor to the sweet, smoky white chocolate roast. There's also a fair bit of salt in their recipe, two teaspoons, which to be honest, I will probably cut back a little of it when making this again. It gives the ice cream a salted caramel familiarity, but the savory aspect was a little overwhelming, but that's just my taste and customizing is just one of the benefits of making your own ice cream. Another thing I noticed is their custard is very, very rich. As in, the fat from the heavy cream forms a hard disk on the surface after it's been refrigerated and despite trying to bust it up before churning, you may get some fat hunks in your dessert because most home ice cream makers probably don't have the moxy to break that stuff down. I know, this sounds like a rage on the book, and it's totally not, I think if you want a real ice cream book, this is the one to get, hands-down. It's just some personal observations and home-kitchen notes I want to add so you're prepared to push and pull things a little as you try the recipes, like any cookbook. Because the savoriness of the ice cream was a little strong for my taste, I just churned a batch of vanilla ice cream and swirled it with what was left of the white chocolate/lavender. It made for a very creamy treat, and one heck of a beer float. The flavor is strong and rich enough to where it stands up against a hoppy IPA, if you can believe it. The sweetness of the toasted white chocolate really comes through to balance out the citrus-bitterness of a hop-heavy beer. So even though I monkey-ed around with Humphry Slocombe's recipe a little, it's still a fantastic book and enjoying their ice cream with an IPA was a fitting combination of California and Washingtonia. No fetal kittens were harmed in the writing of this post.     

FoodTrek: Drinkin' With Sasquatch

Beer is made from basic ingredients: yeast, water, hops and grain. More exotic styles of beer can include things like cardamom, dried orange peel and even flowers. Recipes can be traditional or creative, pushing the boundaries of taste for different beer styles, and as a homebrewer, you're only hemmed in by the confines of your imagination and space to store your brewing equipment. I attended this year's National Homebrewers Conference and at the risk of sounding ridiculously cheesy, when it comes to the serious hobby of homebrewed beers, a major ingredient in these beers is love. And no, I don't think you can buy that at Whole Foods.

Homebrewer conference, Crunk  Glass included - Photo by Wasabi Prime

 The American Homebrewers Association, a national nonprofit group dedicated to promoting and supporting the community of beer homebrewers, holds the National Homebrewers Conference every year in a different city, encouraging AHA members and beer clubs to gather and enter beers into competitions, and seminars are held with topics ranging from beer brewing methods to forming and organizing your own homebrewer club. And yes, plenty of beer drinking -- duh. This year's conference happened right in our hoppy Pacific Northwest backyard, at the Hyatt in downtown Bellevue. The area has its share of homebrewers and beer nerds, but a lot of people traveled some distance to gather and celebrate beer. I talked to people from both sides of the coast, from California to New Jersey. The conference went for three days, with pre-conference events like brewery tours and a day trip to Yakima to see a working hops farm. If this sounds like a Super Beer Nerd thing to do, you're wrong -- it's Mega Beer Nerd. The Mister had me purchase tickets on his behalf (he was at the dentist) months before the event, the moment the tickets went on sale at 9am sharp, Pacific Standard Time. It seemed a little ridiculous -- it's not like these were tickets for a hot tub time machine concert to see The Beatles live, in concert. But his hyper vigilance was rewarded -- the conference tickets sold out within hours and I was rewarded with a ticket myself, as Brock's Plus-One. I had no idea what I was in for.

The Homebrewers Conference welcomes you... with beer - Photos by Wasabi Prime

It started out like any conference, you check-in, get a badge with your name and a big swag bag full of stuff. And then you walk down a long table of bottled beer, where you take one of each, plus a commemorative sampling glass. It was quite a tipsy haul. I only stayed long enough on the first day to gather the swag and spirit them to the safety of home. I purposely left the nice sampling glass on the kitchen counter, as I knew it was an invitation to Shatter-ville, opting to stick with the more gravity-friendly plastic mug that was in the bag. Along with enough beer openers to have one for every day of the week, the bag of goodies had different things from vendors showing off their wares in the exhibitor hall. Set up like a tradeshow, the hall was open for most of the event hours, full of companies that specialized in equipment and ingredients for making beer.

The makings of a good beer: good ingredients, good equpiment, good sense of humor - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Heavy-duty brewing equipment. Pressurized systems. A library's worth of yeast strains, grain varieties and hops. This isn't the event for the folks who think buying the all-in-one kit is what it takes to be a homebrewer. Don't let the amateur status fool you into thinking the people involved with homebrewing is a simple side hobby. For many, the homebrew community is the stepping stone for people to go pro and start their own small microbreweries. While Brock hasn't bought enough equipment to evict our cars from the garage, we have our share of equipment and gear, and his homebrew friends have gear setups that would convince you they're making Frankenstein's Monster. The conference is also an opportunity for those qualified to judge homebrew competitions to flex their beer brain muscle and do some serious drinking. The Mister passed his judge exam earlier this year and judged a couple of competitions before, but it was a special opportunity to judge at the National Homebrewers Conference.

From grains to the glass, every detail counts in beer making - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I admit, I'm more of a Beer Drinker than a Beer Brewer. I've watched the Mister make beer and I'll be a clumsy helper when he needs another set of hands on brewing days, but it was interesting to see the industry behind this very serious hobby. People spend as much as what they would for a car, investing in the equipment for brewing beer at home. Granted, you can work with the basics and brew a perfectly good beer, but for those really wanting to immerse themselves into the brewing culture, joining a homebrew club is another way to pool resources and ideas. If you're serious about brewing and want to raise your game, track down a homebrew club in your area and see if they're accepting new members.

Ingredients and beer pro's in the exhibitor hall - Photos by Wasabi Prime

It wasn't all homebrewed beers, there were plenty of professional microbreweries involved as sponsors or speakers for the conference. They're a nice reminder of what one could potentially become if they wanted to take homebrewing to the next level. I don't know if the Mister aspires to go pro, but I wouldn't be surprised if he joins a local brewing club. We met several local club members at the different social mixers every day, and being able to sample beers from each club, it was a great way to see what each group was making.

Club Night!! Best beer party you'll ever attend - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I realize an event like this would only appeal to the serious beer brewer nerd -- there were sessions that were literally only about brew formulas, with numbers on a screen. My math-challenged brain shudders at the thought. But it's not just science, at the heart of homebrewers is a sense of fun, silliness and a nerdiness that fits well with the Pacific Northwest sensibility. The highlight of the conference for me was Club Night, where all the attending clubs set up booths in one of the giant ballrooms and pour tastes of their beers. After attending several beer festivals with professional microbreweries, Club Night had some of the best beers I've tasted.

Be who you wanna be on Club Night - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Monks, mad scientists, pirates, anarchists, rodents, even The Jesus from The Big Lebowski -- they were all in attendance for Club Night. Imagine Mardi Gras meets Beer Prom. To help distinguish themselves, clubs built bigger, better, wackier pouring booths to attract thirsty attendees to sample their homebrews. It was hard to think of this as a simple pasttime because for many of the people there, homebrewing and beer tasting/judging is a passionate lifestyle, given the elaborate nature of the booths and the quality of the beers. I saw my fair share of happy beer drunks ambling about, but it's not just about the drinking -- I met some cool folks, connected with people I've only talked virtually over Twitter and just soaked in the enthusiasm behind the homebrewer culture. It's very real, truly vibrant, and I wonder why Food Network or some other food channel hasn't created a reality series on homebrewers yet, because it's pretty entertaining.

Along with beer, a hefty dose of fun - Photos by Wasabi Prime

There's an element of competition for the conference, since many homebrewers are vying for awards and recognition that are announced on the last night, but I think Club Night was the most interesting and rewarding. And no, I'm not talking about just the beer -- I did my share of sampling but left with a clear head that night. I've only seen homebrewing on a small level, with Brock and his friends, so getting a sense of the brewer club community was as educational as it was fun. Depending on how the beer judging goes, maybe we'll attend the next conference, which will be held in Philadelphia in 2013.

Funny hats and this year's conference mascot, Bigfoot himself - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Judging from these photos, one could call it the Cult of Beer. There's an elevated level of knowledge that one needs to have to truly be embraced by the homebrew community, there's no doubt about it. As brewers, there needs to be a comfort with science and chemistry, and as tasters, it's not enough to just say, "the beer tastes good" -- there's a need to understand and recognize specific styles and appreciate flavor notes, the way a sommelier would for wine. I'm sure that's why it's a perfect fit for Brock. He appreciates all aspects of beer, from how it's created to why it tastes the way it does, it appeals to his scientific logic-mindedness. I think Mr. Spock would make for a great homebrewer, maybe not as good of a party animal on Club Night, but I'm sure a Vulcan could brew up a mean Belgian sour and hit all the proper flavor notes.

Party on, and keep the beer pouring - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I'm not sure how everyone's liver is feeling after a full weekend or more of beer drinking. The Mister felt like he needed to detox after everything, since he had done some of the pre-show events, judged for one day (aka, drinking for one day), and then several nights of homebrew club beer sampling (aka, more drinking all day/night). I followed Brock around for one of the days, shooting photos and getting a chance to take a photo of him with one of the brewer superstars, Charlie Papazian, who was very nice to pose with both Brock and his friend Sean, another homebrew aficionado and beer judge. The conference was fun, educational and everyone was friendly and eager to meet new people to raise a glass with. I even met someone who graduated from my same high school in Arizona! I didn't know what to expect beyond drinking quite a bit of beer, but I was pleasantly surprised with the spirit of fun and the enthusiasm of the crowd. If you're a homebrewer and not already a member of the American Homebrewers Association, it's worth joining and tracking down a local homebrewing club. Cheers, everyone -- I'm off to take a long post-beer nap. 

Cool homebrew clubs, brewing superstars and yes... more beer - Photos by Wasabi Prime