So, somehow this blog page has been up now for a few weeks, and I have yet to make any significant contributions other than the occasional “Fuck yeah!” or other encouragement to my partners in awful. If you’re reading this now, then obviously I decided to do something about that. If not, then I got busy or drunk and never got around to finishing or publishing this article. For anyone that’s familiar with our modus operandi here at Blue Ribbon Radio, you know that we enjoy both getting too drunk to do things and sprinkling Latin phrases throughout our ramblings as a reminder that we may be awful, but at least we’re not fucking stupid.
On to the topic of the hour: Being Awful Abroad. As the only underground roots/country music podcast with a European based correspondent, it’s high-time we capitalized on this monopoly and shared with you the stories of my one man rampage through continental Europe over the past few years. Certainly Europe offers many of the same delightful attractions of being a terrible person as the good ol’ U S of A, but it would be a great disservice to our readership to not point out some of the particularly scrumptious (and often even legal) activities in which one can partake while expanding your cultural awareness… assuming, of course, any of our readers are actually capable of getting a passport. (DISCLAIMER: Simply reading this blog entry is likely to have you placed on a list of persons not allowed to get a passport. We are only mildly responsible for this, and really you should have known that before clicking on this article link).
"Pictured: Persons not allowed to get passports”
We begin our journey in my current European home, Deutschland (or Germany for non-Deutsch sprech-ers…). It’s hard to say what the average American pictures when he thinks about Germany (primarily because I have never been, save one particular area of measurement, average), but I have to assume that most people think of snow-capped mountains, funny little moustaches, and *insert holocaust joke here. The reality, however, is that Germany has certainly come a long way since it tried to murder everyone with big noses 70 years ago. Despite the division of Germany throughout the Cold War, today the German people are a modern society boasting the richest economy in Europe and a cultural history, save that uncomfortable 6 years back in the 40s, that is steeped in tradition. The greatest of these traditions is where we now turn our attention. Beer. Or Bier, in the local tongue (pronounced similarly, but with a slight air of racial superiority).
”Alkohol uber alles!”
Of course, most European countries boast a rich history of brewing, but none so completely and seriously as the Germans. We’re talking about a country so good at making beer, that even their non-alcoholic varieties taste good enough to not only stomach, but actually enjoy. From the ever-popular Hefeweizen, a golden wheat beer served year round and served with everything from citrus slices, to banana-nectar, to a 50-50 mix with soda called “Cola-weizen,” this stuff is the fundamental building block for your German beer adventure. Served in a modest half-liter glass (a little over a pint) and sporting healthy ABV ratings of 7% and higher, this is a sure-fire accompaniment to any evening of public intoxication charges. Possibly the best aspect of German brewing is that the majority of it is done in small scale operations. This means that every city and town in Germany usually boasts its own brauhaus, with the majority of them specializing in their own recipes for hefe-, pilsner, and seasonal beers.
On the topic of seasonal beers (which number in the hundreds if not thousands), we must address one particular Bavarian town, Bamberg, that specializes in a type of brewing that takes everything that is good about life (pork and alcohol in case you have been under a rock or are Jewish), says “fuck it” and brings them together in an alcoholic experience on par with taking a body shot of Dom Perignon off of Jessica Alba’s pre-pregnancy stomach.
This one.
The monstrosity of amazement to which I am referring is what many Americans living abroad have dubbed “the bacon beer.” Is it bacon flavored? Not really. To be more precise, the particular style of brewing results in what is called rauchbier (roughly pronounced ro-*hock a loogie noise*-beer), where rauch=smoked. The details of the brewing process can be Googled at your leisure, but the gist is this: Make a really good beer then somehow infuse it with the smoke from hardwood trees. Meat connoisseurs out there might recognize this as very similar to how we make bacon and barbecue and anything else that tastes better than everything else. The result is a liquid that looks not exactly but almost entirely like someone mixed Guinness with used motor oil that boasts a strong smoky flavor that calls to mind the aforementioned meat products that we all hold so dear.
Recommended you change it ever 3000 miles
Bear in mind, many people, the monks of the Sclenkerla monastery where the best brand is brewed included, find the taste and alcohol content very strong and tend to enjoy this delicacy in moderation. We’re here to be awful, though, so have at least six before you order your last six.
Andrew is currently a resident of central Bavaria where he enjoys eating cabbage and destroying his insides in the pursuit of fun.
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