Laundry and Beer

You may recall, from previous posts, that there have been some renovations and relocations going on around the Casa Del Pilsner in recent times. We completed a major extension around six years ago and since then we have slowly but surely fiddled and fixed and generally improved the living standard by sorting junk, replacing furniture and adding storage solutions.

Some nice ‘Prof. Pilsner Design’ custom made pieces finished in solid Victorian Ash and Redgum, Tasmanian Oak and West Australian Jarrah have solved the problems of knick-knack-and-whatnot storage as well as keeping the kids’ toys and games hidden away. A large coffee table with a glass top and display drawers beneath contains all my beer memorabilia and souvenirs; and some more whatnot. The last major piece in the puzzle was the laundry.

Until last weekend, our laundry consisted of a an old white reclaimed timber table in a corner, which had turned into a junk storage place, coupled with a series of boxes and bins and recycling baskets and a smattering of brushes, brooms and buckets to round out the ‘New Modern Carefully Assembled Shite’ look that we had tried so hard to perfect. I had a plan for the area and, along with Mrs Pilsners’ Uncle Bob, we came up with a full makeover type of thing that would not have been out of place in a show on the ‘Lifestyle’ or ‘How To’ Channel. It was carefully designed to fit in around the existing appliances and made best possible use of the space for storage and accessibility. It featured a tall broom cupboard area cleverly divided and shelved.

“Hey, Professor!’ I hear you shout, ‘what’s all this got to do with BEER!?!” Well, I’m glad you asked. Surprised it took this long, actually. Well, as it happened, Bob was around with his trusty assistant and son, Sam, and we were assembling and fitting and levelling and plumbing and whatnot and I grabbed my tape measure quietly while I thought Mrs Pilsner was otherwise distracted. She was not.

“Did you just measure the width of a beer bottle?!!!”

‘Who, Dear, me Dear, measure, dear, no, Dear.”

“You Bloody well DID!!”

‘Oh .... MEASURE it? uhmmmmm ... a bit, yes.’

“Did you design all those marvellous little shelves to fit beer bottles in?”

‘Im sure I mentioned it when we were discussing the design. Didn’t I?’

“You bloody well did NOT!”

As I write this, I am still in the process of explaining how a set of shelves which are just perfectly wide enough to store three stubbies across, in a cupboard deep enough to sit ten rows back, was merely coincidental and a pleasant, yet unexpected, by-product of the building process.

I am not finding the task particularly successful.

The beers are all still there, but. And here’s a picture.

The picture shows an apparently normal, well designed laundry cupboard system, doesn't it?Now, open the tall narrow door on the left. Go on !

That's right, it's six

shelves of thirty

stubbies each !!!

Cheers,
Prof. Pilsner.

P.S. Have a crack at designing your own beer furniture; it’s fun!

Pilsner Beer Review

I thought it was time for a beer review and this time, due to my inability to decide on a single beer to review, I am going with a style review. And I’m not even going to ‘review’ a beer at all, just the style. Because this style is so often misrepresented and it’s time that those perpetrating this charade were exposed and shamed.

I chose pilsner because of its popularity and resultant availability. And partly because it is the moniker that I have chosen to write under. That’s right; Prof. Pilsner is not my real name. Or title. I did spend time at a tertiary institute – or three – but the closest I got to a professor was in the uni bar.

PILSNER. THE STYLE

Pilsner is one of those beer styles that is the subject of some confusion, misinterpretation and misuse. Take a cursory glance at the labels of the beers in the fridge of your local retailer and you will see the pilsner tag represented frequently. Perhaps too frequently. In fact, many bearing the name are imposters.

I will use, as a base reference point, the BJCP (beer judge certification program) definitions of the pilsner breed. There are two categories; Bohemian Pilsner and German Pils. At least with these definitions it should be a little easier to work out wether the pilsner in your glass is in fact a pilsner or a marketing man’s idea of what you should accept as one. Those bastards!

PILSNER. THE HISTORY

In the beginning there was the Ale, and the Ale was good. Then came the Lager, and it, too was good. But even the lightest coloured lagers were considerably darker than the ones we enjoy today. The maltsters had not worked out how to kiln the grain without toasting it, even slightly, and so most beer had to be served in wooden, clay or other likewise non transparent vessels. Then, in 1842 a revolution occurred. In the Czech town of Plzen a German brewer employed by locals angry at the shit quality of beer being produced in the town came up with the worlds’ first light golden coloured beer. Huzzah! He used a malt kilned at low enough temperatures to do the job without frying it and also used the very floral and mildly bitter Saaz or Zatec hops.

It probably helped the market value of this new discovery that the region of Bohemia was a fairly dab hand at producing a nice line of crystal glassware as well as good beer and that the new golden lager looked rather nice in a tall, tapered pilsner glass. They probably didn’t call them pilsner glasses, though. The fame of the new brew quickly spread – as did stocks of the beer itself, a special train left the Czech brewery each morning bound for Vienna – and before long every brewer was making his own pilsner. Many brewing centres in Germany still have a dedicated pilsner brewery to this day.

Definitions.

Apart from being a light golden coloured beer, a pilsner should display the following in order to ‘qualify’ for the style; rich, complex malt and spicy, floral Saaz hop aroma. A very pale gold to deep burnished gold colour, brilliant to clear in appearance with a dense, long lasting head. Pretty simple. Or so you’d reckon.

Have a taste of many of the commercial brewers’ offerings labelled pilsner, pils, pilsener or pilz with these fairly broad definitions in mind and you’ll see that they may hit the mark in one or two respects but rarely do they tick all the boxes. Some are merely ‘premium lagers’ (which often means,’ here is our standard shit lager but with no additives’) and is re-badged for sales and profit.

From my humble research, (over many, many beers ..er, years) I have concluded the following. A true pilsner should have a noticeable aroma – a real nose to it – fresh, bright and floral. That’s the Saaz hops. It should be rich and satisfying in the first mouthful with complex maltiness which is bold yet not boastful. That’s the combination of malts. It should have an earthy, real taste and flavour and its bitterness should leave you thinking; ‘yeaaah, that’s bitter!’ It should have a smooth freshness and genuine ‘beerness’ to it. That’s the extended maturation. Above all, it should just FEEL different in your mouth, its texture and its integrity accentuated compared to a run of the mill, six pack sitting, session swilling, bog standard lager.

As I said earlier, this is not always the case. But don’t let the marketers get you down. Just keep trying as many new pilsners as they come on to the market and train your palate to detect the ‘phonies’. And train your memory to lock away the names of the good ones. For next time.

Until next time,
Cheers,
Prof. Pilsner.

Now that’s what I call coincidence!

I swear I didn’t rig this one. I swear I didn’t know about this story before I wrote the piece about the Kiwis. Seriously. Or sirrissly. Like in that other New Zealand show about nasty car smashes called Sirriss Crish Younut. I DO admit, however, that I took the piss out of the Kiwis in the bit called ‘Those Krazy Kiwis’.

I was scanning the paper yesterday morning having fed and watered the little Pilsners and this bit just jumped out at me and yelled, “You won’t believe this shit!”

Apparently some shopkeepers in Rodney, near Auckland, New Zealand have been tricked into accepting counterfeit $100 notes. Now this is amazing in itself because I haven’t met a Kiwi who could identify a REAL $100 note (Centrelink only pay out the dole in 50’s or lower) let alone know of someone who might visit their shop and HAVE a $100 note. But that is not the best bit.

The dodgy notes all had the same serial number. I can cop this because you would assume that even a counterfeiter who is as dumb as a bag of hammers would know enough to spread the notes around and not hand too many out at once. And, really, how many shopkeepers would check serial numbers. But this is not the best bit, either.

The notes all featured a slightly altered picture of the Queen. And when I say ‘altered’ I mean completely and ball-tearingly obviously altered. Old Liz was replaced by a picture of a sheep wearing a tiara. Siriss. The cops also stated that the notes were ‘crude forgeries’. Just in case you didn’t feel enough of a dick having just accepted dodgy counterfeits from a bloke who must surely have been giggling uncontrollably, now you hear that the notes were not even half decent. To make matters worse, the news was probably delivered by Constable Niville McEwen and Sinya Sergeant Ewen Mc Niville from Sirriss Crish Younit!

Sorry fellas, I have had a crack at you twice in a week. I promise I will make it up to you tomorrow when I buy some Monteith’s or some Mac’s or even a Steinlager. Can anybuddy lind me a hundred?

Cheers,

Prof. Pilsner

Day Seven of 21 without the wife and eldest. Just watching a lot of TV with the little ones because it's been so wet and cold out. I like some of the shows that they like. The Fairies is OK in small doses but I just can't work out whether Harmony or Rhapsody has the better cans. If I find out, I'll let you know.