Yet another post on the costs vs quality of US healthcare...

I've often said that the costs of medical care drove us out of the US to resettle and live in Europe.

It doesn't take long for a person interested in such topics to find the relevant supporting data.  Here is a post from today on ZeroHedge.  Cutting to the chase:

"...a recent study by the Commonweath Fund, looking at how the US healthcare system compares internationally, finds, "the U.S. fails to achieve better health outcomes than the other countries, and as shown in the earlier editions, the U.S. is last or near last on dimensions of access, efficiency, and equity." In other words: most expensive, yet worst in the developed world..."

For what we were paying in monthly insurance premiums in the US we can rent an apartement somewhere outside the city of Paris AND pay our European insurance premiums.

What more needs be said?

... and on the 6th of June...

It seems to me that the Meaning of Things here in Europe can be measured very differently than in the USA.  We're currently experiencing one of these moments when differences become obvious.



Years ago when Jude and I first came to Paris together, the map seller at the north entrance to Pere Lachaise cemetery smiled and warmly greeted us in excellent English when he learned we came from America.

In the hallway outside our apartment last week a normally rather reserved Frenchman reached over and squeezed my shoulder while he said "... thanks to our American friends..."

On Tuesday in our conversation group someone asked what we were doing on the 6th of June.  I mumbled something about "nothing special, why?"

Last night Jude and I watched part 7 of one of the BBC Farm series episodes and were struck by how deeply etched memories of the past remain.

This morning as Jude and I watched Telematin we realized the day's broadcast was to be cut short.  Broadcasting on France TV2 is given over to special programming with appearanced made by M. Hollande, M. Obama, M. Putin, Mme Merkel, and the Queen of England.


Taken individually we could pass each event off as something inconnu.  Taken in total a Thread of Meaning emerges.

So what was all this about, then?

At Pere Lachaise, the map seller said "...we French remember how you Yanks helped us."  Our neighbor said "... we French are free thanks to our American friends."  People in our conversation group wondered if we were going to pay homage to our shared histories.  The BBC Farm episode we watched helped educate us as to the size and scale of the effort the US put behind England and France.  Telematin prepared the way for a day of memory, human loss, and celebration of ultimate victory.

Today is the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings in Normandy.  83,000 English and Australian soldiers and 73,000 Americans landed and parachuted onto France.  It was a huge, costly effort.  Omaha beach had not been properly bombed and the Allies met a much stronger than anticipated German force.  Over a 1,000 Americans died on the beach that day.  More than 4,000 English, Australian, and American soldiers were confirmed dead on the first day of the invasion.  By the end of June 875,000 men had crossed the channel from England to set foot on France.


I have to admit that the importance and meaning of history hadn't sunk in.  My most vivid memories of war were limited to seeing a few WWI (not WWII) vets who had suffered severe chemical burns that caused their faces to droop and to wondering how I could find a way to afford a Victory Year 1945 Phillipe Rothschild wine (which was rated as highly as the 1961 vintage from the same cellar).  Pretty meaningless and shallow stuff, this.

It's humbling to feel, not just pass by and read and lightly ponder, but to really feel and thereby know in a different and deep way that some events in history are extremely important to the present moment.  Many of the people we've met appreciate America for the support our politicians, industry, and countrymen actively gave to the liberation of France.

They know.  They remember.  They honor those who enabled peace in the present moment.

Beer in Europe ~ le cinquieme part

My conversation with Don The Oracle continues...

... it looks like my beverage selections 
have dwindled from a week ago... is it time
to restock...?

A quick look at a Wikipedia page about the History of Belgium Beer reveals a vast array of potentially confusing names and beer styles. Not one word about how taxes and The Church influenced choices of what to drink.  Yet, as Don The Oracle notes, One can imagine that over the centuries just about everything that can be taxed has been taxed and people have evolved strategies to avoid the tax.

What with the Church having been the vast, all pervading political and economic engine here in Europe, I can understand how Gruut fell out of favor as lower priced, tax evading, beer preserving, taste enhancing alternatives were developed.

On a different note, there seems to be little or no mention on the Wiki of Belgium Rocket Fuel called "Quadruple".  Many breweries ferment the stuff.  The alcohol content is typically between 9 and 14 percent.  A great example of this one of my All Time Favorites is Trippiste Rochefort #10 which has an ETOH level of 11 percent.  All malts.  No hops.

... the Real Stuff, this...

brewed only on Pleine Lune (full moon)...

hops are not used, either...

Meanwhile, a little closer to home, I find it fascinating that beer made in France is now predominantly industrial.  Ninety percent of everything brewed here is from one of the huge brewers.  It seems that with the Terror came a diaspora of Beer Making Monks.  They seem to have headed for Belgium and other points east.  The exception appears to be Bretagne. 

That Celtic region of what would later be included in the country we now know of as France was never, ever conquered by the Romans.  There is a wonderful series of graphic novels about the region which remain in print.  Asterix et Obelix books are Required Reading in the original language on the topic.  It's hilarious stuff, this.   With such a strong independent spirit, I suspect the Breton had more than a few things to say to the Clochards when they arrived, too.  In any event, I see I need to study the Beers of Bretagne a little more closely.

I've come to realize that the chief reason I enjoy beer to the degree I do is that it Tastes Great!  Wines, to me, while certainly very nice, just don't have a certain "body" to them that brew does.  I call it "chewiness." My taste buds being what they are, I know a good wine when I taste it, but I have no ability to predict which wines are "good" and which are not prior to uncorking the bottle.

The Gates of Heaven

The Bootlegger has a good selection of Belgium beer.

Which leads me to Don the Oracle's enlightening comments about the construct and depth of beer as compared to other ETOH-laden beverages -

The problem with preserving beer has to do with the amount of sugars, dextrin, and proteins left in the final product. Distilled spirits are almost entirely water and alcohol. The flavor components are probably in the range of parts per million. Wine is also more than 99% water and alcohol.  The flavor components being much less than 1%

Beer on the other hand can have a relatively large (couple of percent) amount of complex sugar, dextrin, even some protein left in the final product,Beer starts out as grain.  The grain is mostly complex carbohydrates, starches and protein.  To get anything fermentable the grain is malted.  It is soaked in water until it just starts to germinate. This releases a number of complex enzymes that start to metabolize the grain's stored energy to allow the plant to grow.  The germination is stopped to produce malt.

The malt is then mashed.  Mashing involves carefully heating the malted grain in water.  At various temperatures different enzymes become active and covert the proteins and starches into various forms of simpler carbohydrates (eg. sugars).  Depending on the malting and mashing processes the amount of grain converted into simple fermentable sugars can vary a lot.  Ultimately the mashed grain is boiled to dissolve out the sugars and add other flavorings such as hops.

Beer yeasts can only eat certain fairly simple sugars, there can be a lot of other more complex carbohydrates left behind.  Those remaining components contribute to the beer's flavor and texture.  There are things that can still eat those other sugars and those things are the ones that can spoil the beer.

Modern industrial brewing can pretty much convert all the grain's potential sugar to fermentable forms, plus they pasteurize the beer after it is bottled.  You can imagine that this form of complex chemistry was beyond the range of pre-industrial brewers.

... Nectar of the Gods...

There you have it.  A reminder of the common types of fermentation (Lager, Ale, Lambic).  A nearly rational understanding of how Belgium beer is made and labeled.   A rational explanation for why I like beer (finding that "chewiness" is real and that beer is more complex than, say, wine).  A clear understanding of what to try next and why.  Beers from Bretaigne are high on my list of things to seek out.  Gruut beer from Belgium must be found and sampled too.

So much to experience.  So little time to experience it in.  Don't you agree?

Beer in Europe ~ le quatrieme part

Enlightenment is at hand.  Truly.  It is.

... the Half Man Quadruple... at 11 percent ETOH...

I consulted The Oracle.  It is he I must thank for bringing my mind back to What's Important.

The Oracle happens to be a good friend and former colleague from the Software Engineering Wars we engaged in at a company we used to work for.  It is this trained in physics (as in science) Oracle who suggested that wherever you retire is where you'll put down roots.  Wise Man he is.  So it was natural that I would ask Don about beer.

Don has brewed beer for many years and shared a bottle or two of the delicious stuff.  His kind suggestions and comments have Cleared the Mind, as it were.  I can more clearly see the Lay of the Land of Beervana.  With these words -  I am no authority, but I have no objection to your passing my comments along - we begin.

... um... the year 1062?  Really??... WOW!...

First, a reminding comment about present styles of beer -

Beer, at least in modern times,  is generally divided into two main categories: Lager and Ale.

These are based on the type of yeast that is used.

Lager is generally fermented slowly at fairly cool temperatures.

Ale is generally fermented more quickly at normal room temperature.

Some people distinguish a third class of beers, Spontaneous.

This would be like one of the Belgium beers that is fermented by whatever happens to fall into the vat.

 

... what can a brewer learn in only

eight hundred years...?

 

 

Second, a few comments about hops and why they are used in present times -

Again over the millennia, preserving the fermented juice has always been problematic. An unimaginable variety of herbs and spices have been used in an attempt to preserve the product.  Hops are a relatively recent (in the grand scheme of things) solution to preserving the beer.  

Various styles have evolved often in response to conditions.  Scottish Ale for instance, brewed in a cooler clime, is high in malt and low in hops with a balance towards sweetness.

 

India Pale Ale, intended for shipment to the troops in sunny climes, is high in alcohol and was hopped very strongly to help preserve it before the days of refrigeration.

 

From this I take it that the introduction of hops in the beer making process was not an inevitability.  There have been many beer preserving solutions that were tried and discarded. I can imagine that this is because either the approach simply did not work, or because it was taxed by The Church or other Controllers of Local Economies.

I can also see where some of the beers I've enjoyed would not contain hops of any kind.  In particular, abbey beer recipes that pre-date the Age of Hops contain none of that preserving nonsense.  Perhaps it is that beer is meant to be Drunk Young?  One can only hope.

 

Barley wine. Expensive.  15percent ETOH.

Drink a bottle and go to sleep.

 

 

Third, a thought on beer terminology -

Terminology about styles of beer is probably as varied by region and the beers themselves.

 

Indeed.  Potentially confusing stuff, this.  Without a common language how can we know what we're drinking?

 

le cinquième part suivre...

Beer in Europe ~ le troisieme part

Before we move the blog along to other potentially broader, more important topics, I need to confess something.  This won't be easy.  I'm a little nervous about saying it.  It's rather un-American, actually.  Nevertheless, what must be said, well, must be said.

... oh... be still my bleating heart...

just look at all those fine examples of

Rocket Fuel waiting to be processed by

my kidneys...

I'm completely and utterly ignorant.

Yes.  There you have it.  It's true.  Absolutely.

I learned this recently when I attempted to plan a wee-trip to the Sublime State of Beervana.

Choosing between Amsterdam (or "Hamsterdam", as it suddenly becomes after a few pints of Rocket Fuel), Brussels, or Ghent, I wandered a few internet sites to try and sort out who serves the best examples of the Gods Own Beer.

... je pense que ton verre est presque vide...

Amsterdam looks interesting.  Hmmm... so does Brussels, actually.  I know nothing about Ghent, except it came up on a site that talked about taking a Beer Pilgrimage.

In similar time, Jude and I were watching BBC's Tudor Monastery Farm series.  In episode 3, Ruth Goodman very clearly states that what we call "ale" is a beverage sans houblon, without hops.  She goes on to say that "beer" starts out with "ale's" malts, but has hops (les houblon) added.

Huh.  There's something I never knew and quickly filed the bit of information away for retrieval the next morning. Remembering a bit I read on the Ghent tourist site I needed to more carefully consider something related. 

So... if one sausage goes well with beer...

um... what would four sausages go well with...?

Therein they say...

...in the best tradition of Ghent going its own way, the beers they brew there are firmly hop-free. That's because the Gruut Brewery (found on the corner of the 'Grote Huidevettershoek', right in the middle of town) has gone decidedly 'old school' in its approach to beer and ales. Back in the Middle Ages, Ghent lay on an ancient beer-making fault-line, one with religious overtones, and which split the town in two.  

On the right bank of the river Lys, under Dutch influence, brewers used the (now-dominant) approach of flavouring beer with hops.

But on the left bank, which was ruled by a French-speaking elite, the brewers kept to the much older tradition of gruut beer-making. This used a whole range of local herbs to add flavour to malted beers, and avoided hops entirely...

...Gruut beer-makers used local herbs like mugwort, ground ivy, sweet gale, yarrow, and heather for bittering, and exotic spices like aniseed, ginger, nutmeg and cinnamon. The term ale actually referred exclusively to these gruut-flavoured beers, back in the day. The Catholic church cornered this market in brewing, exacting taxes on the gruut-spice mix. So when hops became a preferred beer-drinkers tipple,  and spread across northern Europe, the Church was not happy, and even banned the hop for a while...

Now there is a LOT of information I did not know.  First, that the Catholic church taxed gruut-spice mixes.  Second, well, in truth, I didn't even know gruut-spice mixes ever existed, let along used in the brewing of ale. Third, that Ghent, and not any village or ville in Strongly Catholic France, became the Cross-Over Point to what we now call "beer" (ie: mit hoppenschkruben, that dastardly plant that led to the Rise of Budwieser and Coors and Such, apparently, Protestant Abominations).

Off I went to research Gruut (or Gruit or Gruyt - depending on, I guess, how much you've had to drink).  No mention of the Catholic Church taxing Grutt and turning tastes toward the lesser cost hop-enhanced-bubbly-stuff was found.  To add to the confusion, I came across an internet site (which I can no longer find, not enough beer, I guess) that says Gruut was served by the Catholic Church to hospital patients and the poor.

Abbey beer... a big pot of mustard...

a Vast Plate of Frites and Sausages...

hereby one comes to the Gates of Heaven...

So... which was it?  A Highly Taxed (Taxing?) Flavoring for "ale" drunk by the Overly Wealthy Overtly Catholic Belgium Upper-Classes?  Or was it commonly handed over to the Great UnWashed to smooth out the edges of Week-Old Bread Crusts version of sterilized water?

Is this why Trappistes/Cisctercian/Benedictine/Carmelite Rocket Fuel come brewed sans houblon?  Are these considered Grutt ales?

Is there really any difference between "beer" and "ale"?  Do the old definitions still hold?

Can someone, anyone, a reader of this Humble Blog (run by Someone Completely Ignorant) perhaps, shed a wee-bit-o-light on the subject?  Inquiring Minds need to know.

Perhaps more importantly, does my favorite Suds Shoppe sell modern versions of Gruut/Gruyt/Gruit?  I'm fascinated.  What On Earth does it taste like?  Does this grant one Instant Access to those Catholic Pearly Gates upon leaving one's Mortal Remains behind?  Are my sins Forever Absolved?

Someone help me out here.  Please.

Passing through the Four States of Enlightenment

Beer in Europe ~ le deuxieme part

Just as in other parts of the Civilized World, there are two primary means of enjoying beer.

Frogpubs are everywhere around Paris

and serve their own unique version of

water labeled as beer.

The first is to buy beer and take it home.  You can enjoy the peace and solitude of your own space where you can watch a rugby match and the 'loo is just over there.  You're free to drink whatever you purchased in whatever quantities your bladder can handle.  The car keys can stay well hidden, too.

While my favorite beer shop in Paris is the Bootlegger, it is far from being the only place to score a tasty brew or two.  Here is a list of well-stocked places you can visit.  Perhaps there's a conveniently located Suds Shop near you?  And  should your French language skills fail you, many shop owners/employees know enough English to get you where you need to go.

La cave au bulles is a good place

to find the State of the Art in

French microbrews

The second way to enjoy CE beer is to visit a well stocked pub, bar, bistro, or brasserie.  If you choose wisely, chances are you'll have a great time.  You can have a nice meal as well as a view of Parisian street-life as it streams by your Inside or Outside table.

The only drawback to socializing in a place like this is the price of une pinte.  This is pronounced "une pant", though one guy keeps telling me it's pronounced "une peent".  Trousers or a proper English pint pronounced in a French accent?  You decide.  In any event, it can be difficult to find a Happy Hour 4Euro "pant".  Unhappy Hour prices seem to start at 6Euros and you may be scalped for as much as 12Euro in the touristy bits of la village.

For each their own reasons, I like to frequent deux endoits.

Le Comptoir Rugby Bar can be an interesting

place to meet the locals and to find out

about variable ETOH on-tap brew

The first is le comptoir rugby bar.  Their par pression beer list is short and their menu is limited to lunch items.  Yet I like this place as it's where I learned that the French (some French, at least) love the very Anglo-Saxon sport of rugby.  It's also where I learned about a beer that comes from Normandy.

The barman said the alcohol content varies in this specific brand of beer.  Top of the barrel pours are around 9 percent.  The bottom of the barrel pours cross over to 12 percent ETOH.  So I put him to the test before ordering "une pant."  He took a shot glass and poured a wee-bit, took a swallow, swished it about the gums and teeth, and pronounced it contained closer to 9 percent than to Absolute Rocket Fuel.

Knowing these kinds of Important Details could mean the difference between a pleasant "deux pant" Tilt To The Left (it's a socialist country, until the next elections at least) on the way home and an On All Fours Baby Crawl.  I'm sure they offer this in smaller glasses, but it never occurs to me to ask.

Falstaff has a long long list of beers

to choose from as well as a nice selection

of tasty goodies on tap

The second place I like is much better stocked than le comptoir and is a real blast to visit.  Falstaff is found at 42 Rue Montparnasse just around the corner from la gare Montparnasse.  Pay attention to the difference between Avenue M. and Rue M. and you should be able to sort out how to get there.  It's otherwise not entirely obvious.

Falstaff's par pression varieties span a nice broad range of tastes and styles.  Each month (I think that's it) they offer a different specialty tap.  This month it was a brown ale from some godforsakenuncivilizedplace.  I didn't try it, but I did have my fair share of Pilsner Urquell.  While the stuff you get in the States is Better than Bud, it's absolutely brilliant on tap here in Yerp.

They offer a Trappiste (of at least one variety), a couple blonds, a few brown ales, and Guinness.  The Belgium beers on tap will be Rocket Fuel.  You've been warned.

A look at Falstaff's tap, well, one half of

it at least.  It continues far to the right

of this image (which is where - malheureusement -

French politics is schwinging these days)

I used to love Guinness, oh, about 40 years ago.  It was exotic and dark and we used to joke it was actually well used motor oyle.  Times have changed and my palate changed with the times.  At 4percent ETOH, Guinness Ain't Squat.  But it is readily available around the city.

If what Falstaff has on tap fails to excite you, read their Beer By The Bottle list.  It's amazing.  They haul in stuff from literally around the world.  It's an outstanding selection and there's something for nearly everybody.

... AND... if it's Game Night and you're up for a Serious Event, they are happy to sell you 3 liters worth of Something Really Good.  I can't imagine being coherent after that much beer.  Perhaps your liver is made of Sterner Stuff than mine?  After all that fun it seems only sporting that you'd get to keep the glass too.

Beer from small Belgium brewers can

be wonderful.  Exercise well your taste-buds

Test early.  Test often.  Pray that the

National Front fails to win the

Presidency next election cycle.

Of course there is a nice list of places elsewhere where you can soak your liver and exercise your kidneys.  Failing local advice (this is a wine producing country, after all), such lists can be a Beer Lubber's Life Savior.

Should nothing tempt you, Belgium is only a quick TGV ride away.

In short, when it comes to beer all is not bleak in Paris.

Beer in Europe

During our short return to the States I had the pleasure of remembering many of the local microbrew on offer. 

Guiness Stout

complete with Irish cloverleaf

I was instantly reminded how different beer is there.

I would like to encourage readers to perform their own deep research on the topic.  Each of us have different tastes and prefer different qualities in a good brew.  Acquiring a PhD on the topic requires many many years of careful, faithful, personal research.  As a short-cut, perhaps I could offer a few thoughts based on my own experience while living in Paris?

Some Americans get all misty-eyed at the thought of yellow colored low ETOH liquid that's served in Southern Germany around Oktoberfest.  If that's your pleasure, you know when and where to go.  The Germans will no doubt happily embrace your open wallet and introduce you to their Party Tent where the fluids flow well into the night.  Personally, better stuff comes from the former Czech Republics and England.

With this kind of Deep Beer history 

things are bound to be quite tasty.

Up until rather recently the only French beers to be found came from the former German temporarily held (in Geologic Time) territories of the Alsace region.  Karlsberg, 1664, and Heineken all brew in this part of this often fought-over part of the world.  It's strange to think that German laws are still followed in this part of France.  If this kind of mass-produced beer often finds it's way into your mug, then all is right with the world and you'll be happy to know these yellow-colored waters are found partout France.  Any pub, bar, brasserie, or cafe will likely have it on tap.  To my palate, again, better stuff comes from the former Czech Republics and England.

It took a long conversation with a Parisian (ne Normand) beer merchant to sort out the how's and why's of the current (woeful) French Brew Situation.  It seems that when the peasants had more than a few heads rolling at their feet during the Terror that just about anyone who knew how to make a decent beer packed up and high-tailed it out of Dodge toute de suite!  Carmelites, Benedictines, Cistercians, and Trappistes each took what the knew and headed for more religiously tolerant parts of Europe just across a conveniently close border.  This is why the best Continental Brew still comes from Belgium and the Netherlands.

Heaven's Own Gates 

Nirvana

Paradise

Beer Inside

Americans have improvised on a theme of good, drinkable, fairly low alcohol content (3 to 6 percent ETOH) English beers.  A friend who lives there (in Merry 'Ol, that is) suggested that the English keep the alcohol content deliberately low so that a person can enjoy several in an evening without the need of a wheelchair later.  Even Guiness Stout on tap around these parts is only 4.5percent ETOH.

Porter (one of my favorite), Stout (yum!), English (that's the word!) Session Beers, Amber (alert!) Ale, Brown Ale, and Lager (to take the edge off the Summer Heat).  These were some of my favorite styles.  Brewers in Portland, Oregon make great versions of each of these.  The place is called Beervana for a reason.

On the European Continent things are for the most part done differently.  If you're only used to what happens in England and the Land of the Free the situation can be more than a little confusing.  Beer is not often labeled by style so it can be difficult to know what you're getting into.  They can talk about a blond or a brown, but you have no idea whether something is a light on the palate and drinkable or if it is more suitable for delivering a Good Night Y'all Knockout Blow around Vespers... and if you happen upon a Lambic for the first time your life, hold on to your hat.  It's nothing like you'll ever have expected out of something stamped with the word "Beer" on the bottle.

Monk's Truth in Advertising ~ it

really is the Peace of God.  

Brilliant stuff, this.

Alcohol content begins at 7 percent for a low-end supermarket shelved triple fermented beer to upwards of 15 percent around the winter holidays in what are called Winter Warmers.  Standard commonly available quadruple fermented beers average 10 to 12 percent ETOH year round.  Many beers are not strongly hopped, though if you look carefully, the Continental Europeans will brew a strong beer with flavors similar to an American IPA.  Malts tend to be predominant and many beers taste slightly to the side of sweet.

Only recently have the French started to experiment with small batch brewing.  If you head down to la cave au bulles deep in the Marais you will find the samples of the current trends in French beer production.  Not that the State of the Art as practiced in France hasn't stirred more than a few pots to full boil.  I've heard there is something of a lutte between traditionalists and la nouvelle vague.  La lutte is over how much and how strong a hop _should_ be used.  I'm not sure who's winning, but the fight has more than a few amusing twists to it.

Monks are not the only people who

can brew a wonderful beer.  

Straffe H. proves the point.

Until the French get things going again, my head turns toward Belgium and the Netherlands.  Frequently I am heard when raising my mug en demandant encore de la biere belge, svp!  For this simple reason I frequent a small beer merchant who's long running establishment (c1976 - by some accounts it's the oldest continually operating beer shop in Paris).  It's only a 15 minutes hike from the apartment with M. Caddy in tow.

The Bootlegger is Heaven on Earth.  It's a temple devoted to Rocket Fuel... er... Great Tasting Beer belge.  One and a half walls are devoted to brew emanating from that single small mosquito infested part of the world.  Another wall stocks German, Scots, English, Irish, American, and Czech beers.  Yet another wall holds only Seriously Large Bottles of biere belge.

Rocket Fuel disguised as beer

This should suffice to set a rickety foundation for exploring Continental Europe's tastes in beer.

Next I will share a personal well-tested ever evolving hopefully improving always applied technique for performing your own Boots On The Ground beer research in bars and brasseries.