Back in my day, high school students throughout the US sought status among their peers using a variety of methods. Some were athletes, some were intelligent, some used their quirkiness to make themselves unique. One group of youth at that time to note was the youth who comprised a segment of the population known as "musicians." Some read music and some did not, yet all were involved in music for one reason or another. There was, among the "musicians," a segment who sought a status of greatness at their one day promise to be a legendary rock star playing before hundreds of thousands in some distant arena. This group gets its start in almost the same universal place across America - the garage.
Ah yes. Garage bands. Jam sessions in the garage featuring a really bad guitarist, a vocal, a bass, and a set of drums. The leader of these groups was usually the one who had the garage available to jam in (or basement if your geography permits it), or he/she was probably the one with the more dominant personality (and maybe even the one with the coolest stuff). Talent rarely had much to do with it, but at least in the garage, you were one really bad group. Names were as random as the people who came and went in these groups, and no one ever really kept track of how many made it out of the garage to some level of performance notoriety.
I thought these had long sense gone until I was running through a neighborhood near Texas Tech about a month ago. Lo and behold, I heard in the distance that familiar sound of a garage band, drums the most prominent "sound," so I changed my path and ran past the garage. Sure enough, there they were. The drummer, the guitarist, the bass, and a keyboard tossed in playing some song not in my repertoire. And some kid on a Mac probably recording the session (computers clearly not part of our band in the day).
My jam sessions these days are part of a generational shift. Gone are the dreams of being a big rock star, having been replaced by the dreams of one day becoming the next great craft brewer in a region where tourists will come because they have heard of, or tasted, your craft.
This past month, Baldner Reserves (as it is now called), produced a formula driven recipe in time for Christmas called, "Pecan Pie Ale." Purchased from the brew store here in Lubbock, the formula took the time to copy that favored southern tradition at Thanksgiving and Christmas known as Pecan Pie, especially favored in Texas. So, I got out the brewing equipment around Thanksgiving to have this potential delight ready for Christmas. Kettle for brewing. Large glass bottle (carboy) for fermentation. Everything cleaned and sterile. Ingredients all laid out in logical fashion ready for their turn in the soup (wort in beer language). Heat sources, back ups, and a wide array of other stuff for the three hour process of preparation, heating, boiling, and storing.
Opened on Christmas Eve, the jam sessions from November had produced a fine ale. The delight of the flavor and taste did not disappoint. We didn't cross the line and make a sweet, "fruity" drink, but instead produced a beer that had an excellent taste and after taste. If you find such a recipe and have jam sessions of your own, I recommend it. It turned out to be a great Christmas beer.
Next up: Beers you have suggested.
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