What Beer for Super Bowl?

The big game is Sunday, and our house will be cheering for the Saints. We'll have Etouffee and snacks - probably even break out some home-made chili (no ground meet - hand cut-up chunks of chuck roast). And pretzels, of course.

Beer selection for the Super Bowl is tricky, though.

Of course, it would be easy and obvious to break out the Abita, which is made in Abita Springs, a few miles from New Orleans. You can easily find Abita Amber and Abita Purple Haze at most stores with a reasonable selection. Both are drinkable and approachable, but the Amber is nothing exciting, and the Purple Haze is a fruit beer of the "put enough raspberry in it and you won't know it's beer" style. Abita makes some great beers, but these two aren't really among them. On the other hand, if you find some Turbodog, pick it up for a great example of an American Brown Ale.

If you're an Indianapolis fan, you might have a tougher time finding something from the vicinity in a local store, though, if you do, you'll probably be drinking a great beer. Indiana has a surprisingly vibrant beer scene, including the wonderful Three Floyds brewery. If you can find something from Three Floyds, pick it up, even if you're cheering for the Saints.

But, really, drinking beer from your team's location is a nod toward silly superstition. What happens on the field in Miami is not really dependent upon what you do in your home 1000+ miles away. I've learned, through years of experience and experimentation, that nothing I can do really impacts the game - not swearing at the TV, not wearing proper licensed clothing, not even promising God I will be a better person if my chosen team wins. So, let's abandon the "Beer with a Purpose" approach, and look toward exactly what beer will enhance the Super Bowl experience.

The first thing to consider is timing. This will be a long evening, and my advice is to plan a sequence of beers rather than latching onto one beer and expecting it to take you through the entire game. I'm going to go with a 4 Quarter approach.

First Quarter: Start with a nod toward history. Boulevard Pilsner is a great American Lager, and it's also light enough to serve as a warm-up course. It will remind you a bit of the beers your Dad drank while watching the game, but it is well-crafted, so you won't relive the horrors of Hamm's or Wisconsin Gold Label. It's American football, and nothing is more American than a great American Lager.

Second Quarter: It's time to kick it up a notch. Choose your favorite American Pale Ale, like Boulevard Pale Ale or Mirror Pond. The hops and malt will compete like the two teams, and even if the hops seem to be prevailing in an American Pale Ale, the malt is hanging in there, and it's a sport where everyone wins.

Half Time: Split a bottle of La Folie from New Belgium, a wood-aged, sour brown ale, or some other sour beer. It's wildly different, refreshing, and a great change of pace to enjoy while the Who take the field. You don't want a whole bottle, because this is not the time to focus on the intricacies of sour and malt, so share a bottle with some friends.

Third Quarter: It's time for a brown ale or a porter. If you can find Turbodog by Abita, now is the time to pop it open (it may be superstitious, but where's the harm?). You want something big and flavorful to keep your taste buds excited. St. Bridget's Porter from Great Divide is another great choice here. The game is serious now, and you need some serious beer.

Fourth Quarter: This is a tough choice. If the game's close, you want something sharp and exciting, but if it's a blowout, you'll want something mellow to sooth the pain of the Colts fans and to celebrate the success of the Saints. So, I'm saying if the point spread is 13 points or less, you want intensity, so go with an imperial (or double) IPA. Double Wide from Boulevard is a good choice, but pick your favorite hop bomb to keep yourself cheering loudly for your team.

If the teams are separated by 14 points or more, though, go with a great Belgian Dubbel or Abbey ale. The best beer bargain in the world is Ommegang Abbey ale, and it is rich enough to serve as a fitting indulgence for the victorious fans and to offer a sweet reminder of the joy of life to those suffering through a thrashing. It's a wonderful beer for special occasions, and the Super Bowl is certainly a special occasion.

Postgame: A nice big glass of water, and maybe a couple aspirin. Tomorrow's a work day, and you've been drinking beer all evening.

New Orleans' Carver High & Its Field of Dreams

My daughter, having recently graduated from Tulane, is staying in New Orleans for a year with a program designed to help 9th Ward high school students become high school graduates. It's an important goal for a part of the city that "Great Work Brownie" somehow didn't reach. 4 years after Hurricane Katrina, Carver High remains shuttered, and the students attend classes in trailers.

The school used to be a football powerhouse pre-Katrina, and some ambitious people are working to restore that source of community pride.



As a parent, it's awfully exciting to see my daughter drawn to where she can do the most good, in the presence of others who have bold dreams, real initiative, and problem-solving skills.

Gustav, Please Don't Hit NOLA

I know it's a form of catastrophic NIMBY-hood, but I hope and pray that Hurricane Gustav lands anywhere but New Orleans, and that the good people of the Big Easy get to continue rebuilding their lives and bringing joy to the world. Even when I'm miles away from Domilise's, I'm somehow enriched by the fact that it exists.

Everything's Fine

Yesterday, I backed the rental minivan out from a carport near the campus of Tulane University. When I got to the corner, I took a last look through the sideview mirror at the low-slung duplex with bananas growing in the backyard. Inside, I knew my daughter was tearfully adjusting to being alone in the space she so eagerly sought and cheerfully decorated. Next to me in the van, her mother tearfully adjusted to leaving her beloved daughter behind. I willed back the waterworks - the streets of New Orleans still require sharp vision to dodge deep holes and buckling pavement - but drove with a thick lump in my throat.

It was a great summer. She has a fantastic wit, a humorous command of slang and a sharply observant eye for the foibles and fashions of those around her. This summer, she socialized with our friends, invited her friends to our home, and adopted Ancillary Adams as a brother. "Dad" and "mom" have been mostly abandoned in favor of our first names, except when asking a favor. Or when saying goodbye a few seconds before we left.

Despite the tears, everything is fine. She's completely capable of setting up a household, starting up utilities, and assembling furniture without my participation. She's happy to accept a little help, but we all knew she didn't need us there, really. She's plenty resourceful. She'll expand her cooking well beyond mac cheese and sandwiches over the coming months, and she won't scream for me to dispatch the occasional tropical-sized New Orleans bug. She dodged Katrina, for Pete's sake; she's capable enough to handle what's ahead of her.

The change in dependency is profound. She's 21, and living in one of America's most dangerous but alluring cities. Next year, she may well be starting two years in a country I couldn't find on a map today. Over the summer, I teased her about being dependent on her hair straightener, but her interest in the third world demonstrates that it's not a dependency, but merely something that's nice to have around when it fits into her life.

I could learn a lesson here, I suppose. If dependency is the key to our relationship, maturation will weaken the bond until it scarcely exists at all.

The tears yesterday didn't come from fear or from concern that she couldn't meet the challenges ahead of her. She's well-equipped with brains and street-savvy to tearlessly wave goodbye to whatever assistance we could offer. Our help, while generously given and gratefully accepted, was nothing.

This is what we raised her for. From birth, we knew she would go forth into the world and change it for the better. We didn't seek to bring her up as someone who would seek our advice and approval for every decision, though we were there with both if she wanted them. We never believed her when she, as a little girl, spoke of buying the house next door and walking with us to the Circle K to buy slushies. It was a heart-warming fantasy, but we never really wanted that result, and we certainly won't be getting it.

The tears yesterday, and the lump in my throat, did not come from something amiss. None of us were surprised, or disappointed, or hurt. While I don't yet know what the future holds for our little girl, that lack of clarity brings expanded horizons instead of trepidation.

Nothing's wrong. I just miss her. But, really, everything's fine.

Local Firm Joins With My Twin to Help New Orleans

This is a neat story. Brad Pitt and other philanthropists have joined with a group of architects, including local firm BNIM Architects, to design houses for the Lower 9th Ward in New Orleans. If you want to give a Christmas gift to someone who really needs it, you might consider visiting the Make it Right website.

Back from New Orleans

Much more later, but New Orleans is alive and wonderful. It still needs lots of help, but at least it didn't greet me with slick highways and snow!

I think I found the only hotel in the world that doesn't have internet access available, even for a charge.

And, you know what? That's okay.