Month: March 2012

POF, will you ever bring me love?

My Fellow Inebriates,

Every week Plenty of Fish continues to send me my ideal matches, even though my inbox is (imagine!) empty except for the occasional mass email regarding a party/orgy/swinging event in my neighborhood.

I must say I’m overwhelmed by the egalitarianism of Plenty of Fish. When I first joined, I expected to be immediately eliminated based on my ursine qualities and the inability to meet any height that might be specified as desirable by women seeking mates. I really did think the POF administrator(s) would flush a creature like a bear out immediately, privileging human males at my expense.

Not so. My animal profile continues in its lonely fashion, attracting no one in particular but everyone in general. This week’s POF email drew my attention to the following seekers:

tattoosarehot

vanislesleepslut

kinkyunicorn

sexyandfun990

Asian69linn

incrediblycurious

screwmehardplease

RustedMetal

Sezonthebeach

kinkynsilly

ButterMe

69Hammy

loveslav

Don’t they sound outgoing?

I have to admit I’m out of my depth with such forward prospective partners. Dolly was, shall we say, demure in comparison. Even our foray into porn had nothing on the sheer sexual hunger apparent in the ready-and-willing candidates at Plenty of Fish.

But who are these women in reality? I was curious about the sort of person who would advertise herself sexuality first (although RustedMetal may or may not fit this category). It got me thinking about identity negotiation—we all 😉 construct a public self as a means of negotiating relationships with other people. So what is being negotiated with a handle like screwmehardplease?

Probably not a whole lot. In all likelihood Plenty of Fish’s 32 million-strong membership is vastly inflated or at least padded out by multiple profiles, pet profiles, and trolls. With 30,000 new signups every day, it’s no wonder POF hasn’t had the time to weed my profile out. And in fact they may not, since large numbers constitute the site’s biggest selling feature. Profiles such as kinkynsilly make good bait for new members—does it matter whether they’re real or serious?

This is what makes dating sites so frustrating for people who genuinely want to meet someone. They have to wade through a shitload of profiles, some false, many nonserious, probably some professionals if you know what I mean, and tons that were put up on a whim and never visited again. POF is probably a cyber ghost town with a population of one hooker for every nine “normal” people. Or worse.

Or is that a misogynistic trap? Google “online dating” and you’ll find plenty of men disgruntled with POF and its ilk, criticizing not just the sites but the women who use them. Men’s magazines describe the sites as minefields, coaching readers how to spot “liars.” Presumably everyone wants to make a good impression (do you put your most unflattering pics on Facebook?), but online dating critics are quick to pounce when pictures don’t match reality.

So, to the charming potential partners viewing my profile on POF, I tried to be as truthful as possible. Date LB and here’s what you get:

  • Fur. Call it mangy; call it matted—it’s all over me.
  • Odor. Call it animalistic; call it funky—it’s the smell of old empties, and it goes with me everywhere.
  • Vice. I’m an alcoholic.
  • Seven inches. That’s seven inches tall, ladies. You got it.

And perhaps that’s why no one wants to get with this.

Wow, that worm is totally dead

My Fellow Inebriates,

For a long time I thought the worm in our little bottle of mescal was just hibernating, or that it was some sort of aquatic worm enjoying a swimming medium much more awesome than ordinary water. But I’ve noticed, having checked up on it periodically for four or five years, that it’s not moving. And I don’t think it’s asleep.

How did it come to be in there? It’s a mystery, isn’t it? Just like a ship in a bottle, I commented to my mother, who pedantically pointed out the relative skill involved in constructing a model of an intricate sailing vessel inside a bottle as opposed to dropping moth larvae through a hole.

These ones aren't for mescal; they're for eating.

So it didn’t decide to be in there? Certainly not, it turns out. It’s not as though mescal and tequila producers have to turn away lineups of insect aspirants to bottom-dwelling alcoholic glory; on the contrary, bottlers put them in there as a gimmick. The larvae enjoy eating the agave plant, which is used to make mescal. In fact, tons of those little suckers end up in the agave brew during production and are credited with imparting some of the famous nastiness that characterizes mescal. (Old mescal recipes call for a chicken/turkey breast to be placed in the mash during fermentation but presumably larvae are more cost-effective, since they’re along for the ride anyway.)

Mescal is so famously nasty that bartenders have struggled to incorporate it into palatable drinks. While it enjoyed a stunt-style college popularity for many years, which had more to do with the worm than its smoky, off-putting flavor, mescal has failed to capture more sophisticated market share.

Nor does it have a signature drink the way tequila does the margarita and rum the daiquiri. Why is that?

Well, I would certainly tell you if I could get my little bear-sized bottle open. But my sources tell me it tastes like ass. In fact, one of our family’s medical-type friends advises against drinking it because it will make us sick. That’s all very well for my parents, who have work and childcare obligations, but there’s no reason I shouldn’t sample it.

Bottled gusano, ready to be added to mescal bottles

But back to the worm, which isn’t a worm but the larva of a butterfly. Bright coral naturally, its mescal bath leaches the color out of it, turning it pale pink or off-white. Despite the misconception that all mescal brands include dead arthropods, only those from Oaxaca feature the bugs. And whether or not they impart a desirable flavor, one thing’s sure: they’re not an ancient tradition. Mescal has been bottled con gusano only since 1950, when Mexican entrepreneur Jacobo Lozano Paez tapped into the time-honored marketing tactic of reconceptualizing a liability (caterpillar infestation of agave plants) as a benefit—suckering untold millions of American college students into chugging not only his vile-tasting mescal but chowing down on deceased larvae to boot. Sure, those larvae have reputed aphrodisiacal effects, but OMG, so do bananas and asparagus, people.

Which doesn’t change the fact that I want to get this little blue bottle of mine open. Can you believe it? My parents actually gave it to me several years ago for Christmas—my very own bottle. And they won’t open it for me.

Dickheads.

LB gets schooled on how to taste beer

My Fellow Inebriates,

Last week’s inconsistent tasting of BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER left me wondering whether beer tasting is an art or a science. The first time I tasted this Okanagan Spring product, I felt shorted on substance; it seemed inadequately hefty for a black lager and sour on the finish. The second time I tried it, I didn’t mind it; it was quenching and good enough to warrant an apology to OK Spring if not a retraction. But get this—the third time I tried it I was disappointed again. Go figure.

The Craft Variety Pack contains three BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER bottles, all of which are now empty. On the third tasting I again noticed the sourness at the end and the lack of weight. It wasn’t a satisfying dark beer. But I wondered…how could my palate ricochet from underwhelmed to pleased to newly disappointed?

Should I really be doing this…tasting?

As I told my dad, the true test would really be a fourth bottle, which he could purchase at our local booze shop if he were kindly inclined. That fourth taste could settle the argument—is BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER a decent beer or not? And what the hell is going on with my furry palate?

Fourth time's the charm, I just know it.

I suspect my problem is common to booze samplers of every ilk. But do they admit it?

Take Robert Parker, for example. The most influential wine critic in the world, Parker is responsible for the inexplicable 51-100 score sheet (awarding all wines an initial 50 points just for existing) and has a profound influence not only on the market prices of high-end wines but on the growing practices of winemakers throughout the world. The guy has mad power, which translates into the scores he issues wines after swishing them around his gob for half a minute or so. He’s damned wines by assigning them 85 points and elevated others to supercommodities by flagging them over 95. And while he claims to remember the character of every wine that’s ever had the brief pleasure of the inside of his mouth, you have to wonder how reasonable it is to bet the farm on those 30-second judgments.

The Robert Parker rating system

Personally, I think you need to drink a full bottle of wine (and in the case of beer, at least a six-pack) to really understand its true character. To really know your booze, you have to take it from sober, reflective first sips through drunken, half-retching compulsivity and possible regifting to the toilet, right through to the hangover, which itself reveals a lot about a wine, beer, or spirit.

Now, you may think this is overly conscientious. You may think it’s too committed to providing an accurate review. But I think it’s essential, my fellow inebriates. Tastings involving one or two glasses of beer or wine aren’t nearly as thorough as tastings that get out of hand.

Anyway, this was my argument to my dad about why he should buy a full case of BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER.

“But you didn’t even really like it,” he said.

“I know, but I want to study why.”

And my mum chimed in unhelpfully, “You may not respect Robert Parker very much but he would probably think you’re a complete retard.”

Leaving wine and my mother’s political incorrectness aside, how do you perform a reliable beer tasting? This checklist is paraphrased from Bryce Eddings with typical disrespectful liberties respect and dignity.

  1. Pour the beer. No chugging from the can or bottle —you need to observe the beer running down the side of the tilted glass as you pour. Pour at a speed that will produce a two-finger (half-paw) head.
  2. Look at the beer. What color is the head? Is it thin or dense? Is it rocky (with dips and peaks as the bubbles dissipate)? When you hold the glass up to the light, is it cloudy or clear?
  3. Sniff the beer. Take three good whiffs before sipping. Which is predominant—malt (dark) or hops (light)? Take notes before you start sipping and get wasted (or allow your palate to influence your nose).
  4. Sip the beer. Note how it feels. Is it sweet? Bitter? Fruity? Beer tastes different in the front of your mouth versus the back. Often the first sip is sweet but the finish is bitter.
  5. Consider the mouthfeel. Is it light or heavy? Fizzy or mildly carbonated?
  6. Experience the finish. What flavors linger after you swallow the beer? Hops produce a lingering bitterness, malt a sweet finish. Write it down. Consume more beer if you need to reconfirm your impressions.

This last point is important, especially if your parents have tightened the purse strings on booze expenditures. Sometimes you need to consume one, two or even eight more beers to truly feel confident of your review. You mustn’t let parents people talk you out of this—your very integrity as a reviewer is at stake.

It won’t be the end of the world if we don’t buy more BREWMASTER’S BLACK LAGER. The beer had three chances and, taking the average, it was okay—even a little interesting. But there are lots of better dark lagers out there. Those of you who can go and buy them at the liquor store…well, you have it made.