I just got a Facebook invite to a St. Patty’s Day party, and I had to check two different calendars to make sure it wasn’t a mistake. Oh hello St. Patty’s Day, when did you sneak up on me?

Granted, it’s been a cyclone of a semester, but I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that it’s almost the middle of March. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a delightful fact. Warmer weather? Yes, please. In copious amounts if possible. I mean, no — I love dirty gross snow all the way into April — and sopping wet socks as they squish around in my UGGs — and accidentally ending all my phone calls because my bulky gloves make me push two buttons at once — that’s totally why I go to grad school in the Northeast

… yeah.

But seriously, I love this holiday. Irish boys, Irish beer, and an excuse to drink on a weekday…yes, waitress, you can place that glorious order right here.

So how to save money on a holiday in which your sole purpose is to drink as much as you can without needing to be taken to the hospital and paying for an expensive ambulance ride? Damned if I know.

Well, you could always find a party. Parties have kegs and the price to get into the party (possibly just bringing a back-up supply) is likely less than what you’d rack up at a bar. But you also don’t get variety with a keg. Oh whatever, if you want variety, go buy a bag of Skittles. You can pop a couple when you need to get the taste of keg beer out of your mouth.

It’s a holiday so you’re going to need to dress up for the occasion, which for this day means wearing green (possibly the most unnecessary sentence I’ve ever written?). It’s just too bad none of the Boston sports teams use green as one of their colors. Right. So yeah, borrow a Celtics shirt and you’re set. Besides, it’s really the green plastic necklaces and sparkly green hat that make the outfit. How can anyone have a bad time in a sparkly green hat? Um, they can’t.

All right, time to decorate your apartment to help get you in the spirit of the day. No problem there, just haul out that box of decorations you stowed away from last year. What? You’re telling me you didn’t save anything? Oh I’m sooooo surprised. Go run out and buy some (cheap) stuff and green-up the place. Just save everything this time. We’ll call it an investment and leave it at that.

It’s always nice to kick off the festivities with a little Bailey’s in the morning coffee. But that stuff isn’t exactly the price of Banker’s Club gin, ya know? So go halvies (or quartersies) with your roomies. You’re just looking to start off the day, that’s all. Don’t want to jump into the heavy stuff too early. I mean, remember last year? Hah, no, I guess you don’t. The pictures are classic though…

But maybe leave the camera at home this year? It’s nice to document these things, but if you’re going to be out in the city, the chances that you make it back to your spot with your camera- and in working condition- eh, I give it an “unlikely.” So don’t bother with it. Besides, it frees up a hand for double fisting.

Hah, I like that last one.

Happy St. Patty’s Day, Boston!

“Guinness: It’s good for you!” was the advertising motto of the world’s most popular stout for a good part of the 20th century. As a 13-year old drinking my first pint of it in a Dublin pub, I came up with my own slogans. “Drink this stuff from the River Liffey, and you’ll be sick, in a jiffy” was one. “It’s foaming head kills bugs dead” was another. But soon I learned not only to love this stuff (an event that occurred before the very pint I was mocking was half-gone) but I came to favor this style of beer in general.

Once you go black you can’t go back, and for me there was no returning to the canned piss water that is most of the beer sold in the United States. Lagers, even really good ones, remain my least favorite beers. There are lots of ales that are delicious, but my heart belongs to porter specifically. Stout, porter, beer, ale — what does it all mean? Pour me a pint and I’ll tell you.

Ah, good. Well, first I’m obligated to say that like most systems of nomenclature, there are some inconsistencies and vagaries. But I still feel confident — and more confident with every sip — that I can give you the suss on these basic terms.

Beer

It’s all beer, so don’t let anyone convince you that a certain brand “is an ale (or whatever) and not a beer.” You don’t have to take a swing at them, just don’t believe it. According to Michael Jackson (an Englishman who is as famous in the beer world as the identically-named King of Pop was in the music world), six centuries ago there was a distinction, briefly, but it’s long gone.

Dark beers get their color from malt, germinated grains that resemble bean sprouts one finds in a salad. The malt is cooked before it’s added to the brewing process. For lighter beers, care is taken to avoid carbonization that will add pigment to the finished product. For darker beers, the idea is to toast the malt so that a dark color — and more importantly a deep, dark flavor — is the final result.

There are three principle types of beers — lager, lambic, and ale — and one can’t always tell which is which by looking at it. One can’t always tell by taste either, although maybe the English Michael Jackson and other experts at that level are able to.

Lager

With few exceptions, when a beer is brewed so that all the gross vomity-looking yeast that gets thrown away sinks to the bottom, that’s a lager. Of the three principle types of beer, lager is the youngest. Developed in Austria and Bavaria in the mid 1800s, it soon became the lifeblood of the whole German beer culture of gigantic steins and the Reinheitsgebot laws that had already been laid down centuries before.

Pilsner is one of the first distinct types of lagers developed; Heineken is an example of it, as is the Chinese beer Tsingtao. Bock, a sometimes-dark lager that has managed to grow testes, is still another. So are the “American-style lagers” I previously compared to diluted urine. In fact, lager is the most popular beer in the world.

To my own pallet, Asian lagers such as Singha (Thailand), Kirin, Suntory (both from Japan) and Tsingtao taste better (i.e. less bad) than other non-Bock lagers. I have no explanation for that nor expectation that your own taste buds will agree; try them yourself.

Lambic

Another type of beer is lambic. Except for a very few adventurous microbrewers elsewhere, lambic is a peculiar creation that only comes from certain regions in Belgium.

Rather than relying upon added yeast, lambic is a result of the untamed yeast molds and bacteria that are already found on the barley and wheat used to make it. It has a fruity taste reminiscent of wine or hard cider, and many lambics are so loaded with raspberries or other fruits that they fall into the category of “Belgian fruit beers.”

When I first staggered out of a drinkery in Brussels full of this tasty sweet but un-beer-like stuff, I thought all Belgian fruit beers were lambics. Only recently I learned plenty of Belgian fruit beers are actually ales, the type of beer most germane to discussion of Guinness and its swarthy kin.

Ale

Remember that putridness that sinks to the bottom when lager is brewed? When brewing ale, that yucky gunk floats at the top. Premium beers associated with Trappist monks in Belgium, such as the Chimay brands, are ales. So are barley wines, potent potables that substitute grains for grapes. Bitters are a pale ale overloaded with hops, while other ales, such as the various brands of “India Pale Ale” very popular with hobby brewers, aren’t hella different from certain lagers.

Ales, compared to lagers, more often have a dark color and flavor. Bass Ale is a darn good beer, and Smithwick’s (a similar beverage from Ireland) is even better. Newcastle Brown Ale is tasty, but none of these dark ales compares to Samuel Smith’s Nut Brown Ale — divine nectar I tend to think is overpriced until it hits my tongue and reminds me otherwise.

Porter

Even though I’m beer savvy, I can’t taste the line where dark ales end and porters begin, and I suspect any division imposed between them is arbitrary. What is definitely true is that many or most of the darkest, malty-est, most flava-ful ales are classified as porters, the story of which will bring us back to Dublin via London.

Supposedly, the term “porter” takes its name from the people who drank it the most, the porters (i.e. dockworkers, teamsters) who lifted cargo off ships and carried to it locations around London like two-legged mules. Maybe, but always be suspicious of this type of etymology; even when these explanations appear in writing around the same time as the coinage, as they’re often what scholars politely call “fanciful” (and what most folks just call “fake”).

So never mind where the term “porter” came from, just know it’s a particular dark beer that seems to have appeared in London around 1700, give or take a generation. It was almost immediately popular not just because it’s delicious, but because it had a better shelf life. Other beers around at the time were shipped to pubs while they were only half-brewed. This meant that as soon as they finished becoming beer, they could be consumed before they spoiled.

Not so porter. It could finish brewing at the brewery and then be bottled up for consumption whenever. It was easy to make in large quantities, and booze-wise it was strong stuff too. Soon people where getting rich from brewing it and even more were getting rich in spirit from drinking it.

Some distinct types of porters have been identified. “Baltic porter” is a high-proof porter from the neighborhood of Russia, Poland, and Scandinavia. This stuff is a great example of why beer nomenclature is so slippery. Not only do some folks consider the traditional Baltic porter to be a stout, most Baltic porter nowadays is brewed with the sludge at the bottom. That actually makes it a lager if one accepts the technical definition.

Porter was also brewed in the American Colonies before the Revolutionary War, and “Pennsylvania porter” is a representative of this New World beer. But it’s an extra-hefty style of porter, discussed next, that’s the best known example.

Stout

There’s wide (but not universal) agreement that all stouts are porters, but not all porters are stouts. The debate about this is neither lively nor interesting, so let’s just skip it and look at the history instead.

The 18th century popularity of porter spawned variants. Some beer drinkers who favored the dark and yummy porters weren’t afraid of too much of a good thing, and increasingly darker and yummier porters grew in popularity. These roasty-good beers were dubbed with names like “double porter” or “stout porter.” That second term, when shorted, gives us “stout.”

In “Finnegan’s Wake,” the cheerily macabre 19th century Irish tune that inspired James Joyce’s eponymous Dublin epic, we’re told that Tim Finnegan is laid in his casket with a bottle of porter at his feet. “Guinness Extra Stout” was known as “Guinness Extra Superior Porter” until about the same time as this song was composed. Accordingly, there’s little reason not to think it was this same quintessentially Dublin drink that lay at the foot of poor Tim’s coffin.

The idea that “Guinness is good for you” (fearr de thº Guinness for those who “have Irish” ) wasn’t just a successful ad slogan. The company based it on some pretty shady “market research” in the 1920s in which people were asked how they felt after drinking it. Big surprise: they said they felt good. People took the idea literally and it was consumed in great quantities by nursing mothers and those with failing health. Eventually more modern sensibilities (and governmental regulations on advertising) took hold.

Guinness is the most famous Irish stout, but it’s not the only one. Its two traditional rivals, Murphy’s and Beamish, are both from Cork (Ireland’s “second city”). When I lived there doors away from the Murphy’s brewery, the smell of it and other beers brewed on-site assailed my nose as soon as I’d step out my door. The gaseous byproducts of the brewing process have an unmistakably distinct sweet scent. The odor can be nauseating, especially full on, but it’s also something I came to enjoy and, eventually, miss. In Cork City, the drinking of Guinness rather than one of the native stouts is a slightly traitorous act even though many locals themselves have actually switched to foreign-born lagers — such as Heineken and Budweiser — that are made in the same local breweries.

Some think these two Corkonian stouts are less bitter than Guinness, and Murphy’s based an ad campaign around this idea, but I’m not so sure. All three are a complex symphony of smoky tastes both bitter and sweet infused by the malting process. In describing what the non-visual senses perceive, people often fall back on comparisons. When discussing stouts, Irish and otherwise, “coffee” and “chocolate” are often mentioned, but this is more metaphor than similarity. Again, taste for yourself.

Besides these brown beers from the Emerald Island, there are stouts from elsewhere in the world. As said, the previously-mentioned “Baltic porter” is considered a stout by some and it’s similar in style to the “Imperial stouts” associated with Russia. Both share a high alcohol content that helps them survive the winters of Northern Europe without freezing.

“Milk stout” or “cream stout” is made with lactose, a sugar extracted from milk, and is sometimes called “sweet stout” for the resultant effect. “Oatmeal stout” is made from… can you guess? “Oyster stouts” hail from a bygone era when shellfish were a popular pub grub. Sometimes the name just implies it’s to be enjoyed with oysters, but in many cases those same mollusks are part of the brewing process. What does that taste like? I don’t know and I don’t want to know.

“Chocolate stout” and “coffee stout” are typically just terms referring to particularly dark and aromatic stouts. Less often, it means a tiny amount of that ingredient is part of the brew process. That, and especially the bit about the oysters, makes me see the sense of the German beer laws.

Drinking it

The proper pouring of certain beers, especially Guinness, is considered essential by many. In its most dramatic expressing, the act of drawing a good point takes on the ritual of a Japanese tea ceremony. I wouldn’t say you can completely ruin a beer by pouring it wrong. I do think the texture of the beer can suffer, especially during the initial sips, and you only get one chance to make a first impression.

But it’s beyond debate that a decent beer deserves a glass. Beer from a bottle is acceptable if you’re trying to play beach volleyball at the same time as you drink, or if you’re underage and drinking on the roof of someone’s garage, but there aren’t many other situations that justify it.

Beers, especially good beers like some of those I mentioned, have multiple layers of flavor that kick in at different times. A taste of a well-crafted beer is like a firework that rises to the air in a trail of green, explodes red, explodes blue, dances around, explodes gold, and then surprises you with a shower of orange after you thought the show was over.

This party in your mouth can take place because your taste buds aren’t evenly distributed. The guys who taste sweet cluster in one place while the guys who taste sour hang out in another, and so on. Drinking beer from a bottle is like listening to music with the bass turned all the way off or having sex with a condom. Why do it if there’s no good reason?

Summary

Beer is beer. What different styles are called is sometimes a matter of debate. When gunk sinks to the bottom during brewing it’s lager, and if it floats to the top it’s ale. Certain dark ales are known as porters, and the darkest and creamiest porters are called stouts. Don’t drink from a bottle. Guinness is good for you.

BALTIMORE — It’s March and that means that Easter eggs are soon on their way and that pints o’ beer and allergies are here! We all love spring, St. Patrick’s Day and holiday feasts, and one of the best places to celebrate all three is the Baltimore-Annapolis, Maryland area on the Chesapeake Bay. Rich in Irish history, early spring flowers and fresh crab, your senses will come alive exploring all that the area offers.

Baltimore is the sin-city of the ages, originally established from the tobacco and sugar trades with the Caribbean, but when the potatoes in Ireland disappeared a massive exodus of settlers flooded the area leaving their mark on the city. The name Baltimore is from the Irish city in County Cork, Anglicized from “Baile an Tƒ­ Mhƒ³ir” meaning “Town of the Big House”.

Since St. Patty’s Day falls mid-week, that leaves you with only one option — celebrate the weekend before AND after. It’s only fair. With only one weekend to explore Baltimore, do three things: pub crawl the bay, pub-crawl Fell’s Point, and slink over to the cemetery — preferably the one where Edgar Allen Poe is buried. (Just be careful not to drunkenly stumble into a crypt.)

The downtown area of Baltimore is centered on the bay, and houses ships of today and yesterday. A fine example of fleeting American craftsmanship is the USS Constellation permanently docked here. If you’re a sports fan the Boston Red Sox (another fine strappin’ young Irish lad of a team) are playing spring training games the weekend before, and there are games all week long. Ah, the Great American Pastime — bringing Irishmen and beer together for a century, and now you too.

A bit uptown from downtown, but a fun stumble over is the little church cemetery that houses the grave of Edgar Allen Poe, who resided in Boston and Baltimore. The graves here date back to the late 1700s and the grounds are well kept and classically spooky. ‚ Also in the city is the earliest surviving home in which Poe lived, and now operates as the Edgar Allen Poe House and Museum.‚  If you’re looking to go ghost hunting, wander on over to a little place in Fell’s Point (said to be Poe’s final drinking hole) called The Horse You Came In On. It is rumored that an upstairs room is occupied by a spirit named “Edgar”.

Fell’s Point, once popular with the sailors has been refurbished and is the new hip spot. There are more than 120 pubs to whet your whistle, cobblestone streets, music, shopping and great local eats.‚  With a rich maritime influence left behind from St. Patty’s Days gone by, some of the infamous naval beauties were built in Fell’s Point yards, epitomizing the clipper-ship with the area. The aforementioned USS Constellation calls Fell’s Point home, as well as many Civil War ships, and privateers.

Speaking of navy

Not so far from Baltimore is Annapolis, home of the US Naval Academy, the ratification of the Treaty of Paris, and one of the original capitols of the United States. In Annapolis, the history seems to seep from the cobblestones.‚  Walk down the same streets that George Washington and Thomas Jefferson tread, and were once a hot-bed of patriotic action. There are several homesteads on the main street that have been transformed into quaint inns dating back to the mid-18^th century, including the Maryland Inn, whose tavern hosted the likes of Ben Franklin and John Adams.

Host to the two largest in-water boat shows each year in October, and year round races, there is a constant stream in and out of Annapolis ‚ year round of sea-worthy vessels coming in to port, to eat the fresh crab-legs and drink stout pints as in the days of old.

Annapolis is another small-in-square-footage-big-in-possibilities charmer. Theater thrives there, premium yachting abounds, and there are plenty of historical pubs and shopping to keep you entertained for the weekend.

While this may be the cleanest debauchery you’ve ever partaken in, the cities of Baltimore and Annapolis are picturesque, sports-worthy, pub-alicious, and just their streets are waiting for you to dance down. Don’t forget to wear green. I’ll be watching for you, pint in hand.

For more information on the historical Inns in Annapolis visit Http://www.historicinnsofannapolis.com. For more information on The Horse you Came In On visit http://www.myspace.com/thehorselive . And lastly the Poe House/Museum is here: http://www.eapoe.org/balt/poehse.htm.

Carly Erin O’Neil, our favorite lass, reported from Baltimore and Annapolis.

As St. Patrick’s Day approaches, we all prepare to celebrate in our own special ways and embrace our Irish roots.

Take Katherine Heigl for instance.

The “Knocked Up” star is half Irish, and was recently seen showing off her emerald pride by wearing the Primp’s Four Leaf Clover Hoodie ($165 at Bloomingdales).

The soft and cuddly hoodie is extra long zip jacket style with an elongating, flattering fit with an all-over print and rhinestone detailing that is both cute and stylish.
 
The Primp shirt may be hot, but if you don’t wanna spend $165, there are a few more options including an always popular Flogging Molly hoodie and just about anything form the vast collection of Notre Dame merch.

Katherine Heigl still looks hot in her shirt though.

Throngs of green-clad people. Pints of black or green-dyed brew. Plates of steaming corned beef and cabbage. These images have become synonymous with St. Patrick’s Day around the world. It started as an annual feast in honor of Ireland’s patron saint, St. Patrick. Legend has it that the Christian missionary drove all of the snakes from Ireland, and taught the native Irish about the Holy Trinity. While not an official holiday in the United States, almost every major city has events. Chicago, for example, dyes the Chicago River green each year, and New York City has a large annual parade.

In downtown Boston, where the city has celebrated St. Patrick’s Day since the mid-1700′s, Blast’s John Forrester gathered together a small group for an evening of Irish cuisine and beer. Beginning with pints of Guinness as Shepherd’s Pie was being prepared, the five guests sampled various Stout-based concoctions.

Guinness, by far Ireland’s most commercially successful beer, is often mixed with other types of beer and liqueurs. Both in the U.S. and in Ireland, the most common example is the “black and tan,” or “half and half — one part stout and one part lager or ale, such as Harp and Bass. Another popular mix was the “black fog” — a few splashes of Chambord, a Black Current flavored liqueur, and Guinness.

Overall, the crowd-pleaser seemed to be the Black and Gold half Stout and half alcoholic cider, such as Magner’s or Strongbow. There are, of course, countless other concoctions that will allow you to go beyond the standard pint of green-dyed Budweiser or traditional Guinness this holiday, so strap on that shamrock, throw on a green t-shirt, and start your own St. Patrick’s Day tradition this year.

“Craic” is an Irish term for a light-hearted evening filled with good food, drinks, music and laughter. While there are many ways to celebrate the holiday breweries, bars and restaurants are all known to have events–try inviting some friends over for an intimate night of Irish food and drinks this St. Patrick’s day. Instead of the stereotypical corned beef, hash and green beer, here’s a unique dish from the land of Erin that is sure to help bring a bit of craic to your St. Patrick’s Day party.

The Blast Shepherd’s Pie

Serves 5-6

2 to 2 1/2 pounds potatoes, such as russet, peeled and cubed
3 tablespoons sour cream
1 cup milk
Salt and black pepper
extra-virgin olive oil

1 11.5 fl. Oz. bottle of Guinness Draught Stout
2 pounds ground beef

1 clove garlic
2 medium-sized carrots
1 large onion
2 1/2 tablespoons salted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 cup chicken broth
2 heavy dashes of Worcestershire sauce
1 cup frozen peas
1 teaspoon paprika or cayenne pepper

Hot sauce (optional)

Prep Work: Chop carrots, onions and garlic. Peel potatoes and cut into 1 to ¾ inch cubes.

Begin by boiling the potatoes with generous dashes of salt while you warm a skillet on another burner to cook the beef. While the potatoes cook, add a small amount of olive oil to the pan and the chopped garlic. When the garlic begins to smell fragrant, add the ground beef and cook for a few minutes. As the meat begins to turn brown, add salt, pepper and a third of the Guinness bottle. If so desired, add a dash or two of hot sauce as well. Once the beef is browned throughout, add carrots and onions, and stir often.

Keep an eye on the potatoes; when they’re tender, drain the water. Add milk and sour cream, and mash until mostly smooth. Once they’re at the desired consistency, cover and set aside.

To make the gravy, use another burner on medium heat and melt butter in a small skillet. Once the butter is liquefied, add flour, chicken broth, salt and pepper, and the remaining 2/3 of the Guinness. As you’re making the gravy, preheat the broiler on a high setting. Stir constantly so that the gravy does not melt, and no lumps of flour remain. Let it thicken as it cooks for a minute or two, and then add to the meat and vegetables. Lastly, add peas to the meat.

Take out a rectangular baking pan with 3 to 4 inch sides, and fill with meat and vegetables. Cover bottom of pan evenly and then spread potatoes over the meat, forming a top layer. Sprinkle fine layer of paprika or cayenne over the top.

Place the pan away from the heat source in the broiler and cook until top layer of potatoes are browned.