To some, beer is nothing more than swill, a simple brew for simple men to drink while watching football or grilling burgers. But for others, beer is an unrivaled beverage that represents a new, relatively unexplored frontier of nuance and flavor. And while beer has made inroads into becoming acceptable at a nice restaurants, it is hardly on the same level as the Pinot Blancs and Syrahs of the world. Is there nothing more to beer than a cold can of Bud Light, or is it the Rodney Dangerfield of the drink world? After the jump, Ian and Alan debate beer's place on the dinner table.
ALAN'S TAKE
At Noma restaurant, in Copenhagen, the beer menu (a ten-page tome of brews that were all unfamiliar and all genuinely intriguing) is the first thing that's offered. When I was there, the sommelier pointed out his favorites and mentioned how they heighten the flavors of the restaurant's food. But at the Bar Room of The Modern, in Manhattan, we were told the sommelier was "too busy" to come to our table to help us select beers that might pair well with the meal we were having. Presumably, he was not too busy for us, but was simply too busy for beer. This is a shame, because The Modern's beer list is a stellar example of why beer should be given more credit as a serious complement to great food.
The crisp and refreshing Brooklyn Light Ale which was on draught, was a perfect foil for the rich, unctuous liverwurst. I ordered a beautiful amber-red rice ale from Hitachino to go with a pork belly that had been braised in, of all things, beer. The notes of sake and spice in the rice ale were a terrific reminder that, although it sat atop sauerkraut, my pork belly with a ginger jus had its roots firmly in East Asia. Even dessert was heightened by a Lindeman's Kriek Lambic. Normally, I find it to taste not unlike cough syrup, with its unnatural jolt of sweet fruit juice. But when paired with The Modern's ethereal beignets, it becomes something else completely. The beer was still slightly cloying, but it had tart, almost sour notes and a dryness that rivaled Champagne's. The much-lauded and truly superlative tarte flambee—bacon, onion and cream atop a crispy, feather-light crust—is perhaps the most beer-friendly item on the menu. It was the only miss of the night, though, as I chose an Ayinger Braue Weisse that needed an acidic partner in the same way the tarte flambee did, and the beer and the tarte were too similar to highlight the best aspects of each other. Nevertheless, this illustrates that there's a complexity to beer that often goes unmentioned or unnoticed. It is truly something different and can enhance a meal in new and unexpected ways that wine just can't. I only wish that more American restaurants weren't "too busy" to devote attention to an underappreciated libation.
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