APPETIZER
COURSE
Many chose to
open a large meal with a light dish. If you plan garden greens and
vinaigrette dressing, for instance, look for a thirstquenchingly tart
and light-bodied, Berliner Weiss to pour alongside it. Similarly at
home with a salad is the relatively rare Belgian gueuze, another
effervescent brew with hints of citrus and rhubarb
that finishes tart and dry.
Should your first course consist of fresh fruit or crustaceans
(shrimp, prawns,
or lobster), consider serving witbier (Flemish for "white"
beer, the sweeter and more complex Belgian cousin to German Weissbier,
also known as bière blanche). Spicy citrus notes in the aroma and
flavor, together with its mildly sweet, malty
palate, would safely and satisfyingly join such a delicate first
course.
MAIN COURSE
Succulent veal pairs well
with a subtly sweet, pale golden cream ale; while slightly more gamy
lamb would be done more justice by a bronze, generously malted,
German Altbier ("old beer"). India Pale Ales (the
aggressively hopped
pale ales often called IPAs) are perfect foils for roast beef and brisket.
It's a virtual requirement that hearty steak dinners be accompanied
by a robust dark beer in the style of porter,
stout,
or Schwarzbier. (No other lager is so black or offers the roasty,
dark grain flavors of German Schwarzbier — "black
beer."). Sometimes opaque and often dry, these roasty flavored
brews are also perfect company for the charred and smoky taste when
your beefsteak is broiled or barbecued. The mildly smoky character of
a German Steinbier ("stone beer") or a semi-sweet and
chocolaty Munich Dunkel (dark lager) would nicely suit a liberally
glazed ham shank.
If you choose to roast a bird this year, please consult my
suggestions for complementary beers on the Thanksgiving
page.
When seafood is on your menu, be
sure to draw a mental line between lobster, crab, shrimp, or whitefish
and the more assertive mollusks (clams, mussels, and oysters),
salmon, or herring.
For the more delicate former, a crisp, dry, golden lager such as a
Pilsner should be offered; for the flavorful latter, a well-balanced
pale ale is a more appropriate choice. If the salmon or herring are
smoked, and you're in a daring mood, try serving them with a German
Rauchbier (smoked beer); but be forewarned that these acrid beers may
be considered too austere by some. It bears noting that in England
oysters and dry stout are considered a classic culinary combination.
DESSERT COURSE
Christmas desserts run the
gamut, but rich (and creamy) fruit or chocolate creations seem to be
the order of the day. Sweeter, heavier beers are best suited to such
concoctions. "Estery" — fruity and flowery — pale
strong ales such as Belgian Tripels work well with fruity treats. So
would spicy Belgian strong golden ales (occasionally labeled grand
cru and spiced with coriander
and Curaçao oranges). The perfect matches for chocolate baked goods
are darker, roastier porters and stouts.
WASSAIL
In the realm of tradition,
wassail is punch, a concoction made of strong ale laden with spices,
sugar, and floating pieces of fruit (such as roasted crab apple) and
there are recipes
for such seasonal mixtures in the Drink File.
To most modern brewers, however, wassail is a special winter beer to
which has been added any number of spices or flavorings. These often
include cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, ginger, vanilla, anise,
and even essence of spruce, among others. You may drink these
wassails chilled, but serving them slightly warmed not only brings
out more of their spicy flavor, it can also bring a glow to your
cheeks.
CHRISTMAS CANDY
A word for those who pass
candy at the end of a holiday meal: Explore the world of well-aged
Belgian fruit-infused lambics. These are tart and sparkling beers to
which macerated
fruit (most often cherry or raspberry) has been added during
fermentation. If these prove impossible to find, German Doppelbocks
(dark, malty brews of considerable strength — six to eight
percent), or rich Scotch ales (sweet and viscous beers with a mildly
smoky backdrop) are full flavored "malternatives."
— Marty Nachel, November 1999
from epicurious.com
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