Our journey begins in Victoria’s Rock Bay, the area of Victoria where, if you know where you’re going, you’ll find one of BC’s best  local breweries (my gauge: not one bad beer).  This metaphorical quest then swings north to Read Island to pick up a few little somethings off the beach, before turning south again for the trip home.

Swinging past Windsor Meats and Two Rivers ‘because it’s on the way’, we head home to Gastown and settle in to the warmth of the open kitchen heating and perfuming system that is Pourhouse.  [on that note, it seems even cozier lately since we started baking our own bread...]

At this point, my little fable hardly qualifies as a dinner teaser, but fear not; the journey is not over.  Just because we’ve come home, the braising and baking, reducing and rendering has only now begun.  I think I’ll leave course two alone for now and tease you with dinner.  And I’m just gonna come out and say it.

Fat Tug.  Braised Beef.  Bone Marrow Gremolata.  From the beach we’ve gone deep, and hit bone.  Cracked it open actually and gone inside.  We’ve had a bone marrow dish on our menu for a month now, knowing that it wouldn’t be for everyone, but there to order just the same.  And people are loving it.  I’ve eaten some interesting things thanks to Pourhouse (curried pig brain anyone?), and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was fantastic to say the least.  I’m starting to get off topic here, so I’ll refocus my energy on the task at hand.  When I sat down with JC to taste the beer and come up with this menu, we had a challenge put in front of us, in the form of a big, bad tugboat.  And to face that resiny, hoppy challenge, we have found it’s match.  Two-day braised beef blade, some veggies to balance and some of that rich bone marrow butter mixed in with a gremolata and baked/melted atop.  I can’t effin’ wait!

And that’s just dinner…

Stay tuned for dessert, a possible glimpse under Hildegarde’s habit, and Brewmaster Meyers’ VCBW mainland appearance schedule.

Last year I had the misfortune of being away for our brewmaster’s dinner during the 2011 Vancouver Craft Beer Week, so when I heard we were doing with Driftwood again this year, I was excited to say the least.   And not only will I be here for it; this time they’re putting me in charge!

These are the fun aspects of my new job as manager at Pourhouse.  I got to sit down with our chef and taste beer!  I sat in awe at how deftly JC chose what he was to cook with each pairing.  I’m always grateful to spend time with any professional in their field, to watch how easy they make things look is a delight that never ceases to amaze me.

So for this years beer feast I’m going to try and leave some things up to surprise, but leak a few teasers along the way.  From the VCBW website you know that we’re preparing four courses, paired with four beers, with the possibility of a mystery fifth beer.   That will remain a secret for now, but what I will say about dinner is this:

I’m sorry to all my vegetarian friends, but you’ll have to sit this one out.  While there will be plenty of veggies on the table to keep our mothers and doctors appeased, this is the Pourhouse after all.  Fresh, local, delicious meats are a part of what we do.  Also come with an open mind & an adventurous spirit…trust that we haven’t steered you wrong yet, and we won’t on May 22^nd either.

Even better than not wearing underwear.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this vantage point, you are looking at the underside of a bottomless portafilter, also known as a naked or crotchless portafilter. This apparatus is what holds the ground espresso in place under the brew head. And this particular example has had the bottom removed with a hole saw. Why would you do that? I’ll get to that later.

We have a new espresso this week, a single origin Ethiopian from 49th Parallel. What does it taste like? Well, it smells like blueberry muffin.

At the Pourhouse we are blessed with very good equipment. Our espresso machine is handbuilt at Synesso, Mark Barnett’s small and beautiful company in Seattle, Washington. Mark was an engineer at La Marzocco for over ten years before he left to build this machine, introducing several design features that the rest of the industry has been slow to adopt. Each brew head has it’s own boiler, which is thermally regulated by a PID controller. I won’t get into what that means, but it’s the most accurate way of controlling temperature at the brew head. What do other espresso machines do for temperature control? Nothing. They use a different technology, a heat exchanger, and the temperature can fluctuate up to 40 degrees during the brew cycle. Ever tried to do any baking with an oven whose temperature floated to the tune of 80 degrees? I haven’t, but i know what the results would be: burnt outside, doughy inside. The Synesso is stable to within .2 of a degree.

Some of the other features include all stainless steel construction, double insulated steam wands so you can’t burn yourself, and the absence of knobs or push buttons – which are the leading cause of repetitive stress injuries. Brew heads and steam wand are lever actuated.

Proportional, Integral, Derivitive. Just call it PID.

But all of this technology is useless unless you know how to use it. And we’ve all had our fair share of bad coffee to prove that. Incredibly, every bartender at the Pourhouse has shown an intense interest in bringing their coffee game up to the same level as their bartending. It’s not a surprise because most of us like coffee as much as we like cocktails. But even Brian who doesn’t drink coffee, and thank God he doesn’t, makes very consistent espresso. We’ve implemented a serious training program and like with our cocktails, you’ll often see your bartender tasting an espresso before they make your coffee. You’ll also see us dumping out your espresso and starting over if it didn’t pull right. And no one touches the Synesso until they have been trained and am I am happy with the quality of their coffee. This means only our bartenders make your coffee. Retraining is ongoing.

On any given day of the week you’re likely to find at least one of us hanging out at Elysian Coffee. In our opinion they set the benchmark for coffee in Vancouver. Alistair and his crew have been generous and supportive in all aspects of keeping us educated and growing as baristas. But besides that, we just like the place. And you won’t get a better coffee anywhere else town…

But you will get a coffee as good at 49th Parallel. And we are extremely happy to have them as our roaster. We LOVE their epic espresso, but Vince has been roasting some single origin espresso of late that has been absolutely amazing. Right now we are brewing an Ethiopia Yergacheffe and as Lachlan described it… blueberry muffin. Ethiopian coffees characteristically have intense berry notes and this offering is bursting with cherries and blueberries. Crazy, right?

The money doesn't go on marketing. Photo courtesy of Liz Clayton.

What do we mean by single origin espresso? Typically espresso is a blend of coffees from different regions or parts of the world. Coffees from different areas contribute different qualities to the espresso, like sweetness, acidity or body. Blending is an art, as you might imagine. But every once in a while a coffee seems to produce a balanced espresso all on its own. This has been the subject of much debate lately as single origin espresso has been enjoying some popularity. Sometimes they work, and sometimes they don’t. This Ethiopian is delicious. You should come down and try some before it’s all gone.

Lastly, why did I saw the bottom out of our portafilters? Because as baristas we can see how the shot is developing. Blond-ing and channeling guarantee bitterness in the cup, and those are two things that would be hard to see otherwise, unless of course you can see through metal. In the days that follow I will post a video here so you will have an opportunity to see the entire brew cycle as viewed from underneath a bottomless portafilter. It really is quite beautiful.

Connecting to the history of Gastown is what Pourhouse has been all about since its inception.  Drawing inspiration from the 100+-year-old building has proven to be almost bottomless.  To all of us involved, it has been interesting and exciting both in what we look to find, and in what’s found us.  The wine program has been no exception, it’s been a chance to find and rediscover a few things worth celebrating.  It’s also given me a closer look into how some of winemaking’s history is coming back and shaping it’s future.

There are things I keep coming back to, or that keep circling round and recurring when it comes to Pourhouse, and forgive me; I have to digress for a moment here.  Our inspiration draws from the specific location and its specific, as well as general history, and everything that spirals out from that.  1908 Gastown.  Turn-of-the-century North America. Neighborhood.  Local.  Elegance in both plain and fancy.  Honesty.  Quality.  Hands-on.  These things all seem to keep popping up and relating, no matter where I look.  It reminds me of how fractals, those beautiful mathematical designs, echo themselves as you magnify them, into infinity.

Sorry, I just had to do it.  Back to wine.

The idea of tying our wine program into the rest of the turn-of-the-century theme has grown organically, and thanks to the hard work of a few very talented friends and neighbors is resting very comfortably alongside a lineup of classic cocktails and local craft beer.  It was Neil Ingram who suggested we use our historical platform to showcase some of our favorite grapes.

At the time of the golden age of cocktails, Zinfandel was the most commonly planted grape in North America, and was amongst Petite Sirah and Riesling as the dominant grape variety. With its abundance of mouthwatering acidity, Riesling is a go-to food pairing wine for almost any dish; or it can be crafted into a more delicate expression, to be paired simply with friends and conversation.

Petite Sirah, a cross from Syrah and Peloursin, came to North America from Frances’ Rhone Valley, known for it’s meaty and robust food wine.  Mostly used for blending, Petite Sirah is quite commonly found in Zinfandel, whether labeled or not.   This tannic wine brings, spicy, plum, bacon and white pepper flavors to the table: a perfect fit for the comfort food being served up by chef Chris Irving.

And this brings me to one of my favorites: Zinfandel.  I love it for many reasons: I love how the grapes ripen and raisin unevenly on the bunch.  As a mountain-born winter lover, I’m envious of its ability to bask and soak in all that hot sun.  I love how it evokes emotion; whiffs of my granny’s jam on toast, are inside a glass of wine!  And I love how Zin can be so diverse; it runs the gamut from soft and light, through big, bold, and alcoholic, to Cab-like: oaked, tannic (where the Petite Sirah comes in), and ready for a steak!

Zinfandel is one of prohibitions’ survivors, and thanks to the Italian farmers who held on proudly to their vines, we get to enjoy some of the richest examples of Zinfandel in the world.  These truly old vines (a term used somewhat loosely) focus their sugars and yield a smaller, sweeter, more concentrated juice, translating into a much deeper, richer wine.  Thank you to the Seghesio family and others, I am truly grateful.

Old-fashioned viticultural methods have come back into practice as organic farming.  Crop rotation, composting, hand harvesting, green manure, and the use of insects and birds for pest control, were all rooted firmly, surviving the technological advancements in pesticides, to recover their credibility in the farms and vineyards as not only more natural, but more effective in making an exceptional wine.  Ridge Vineyards in California for example has built an above ground cellar from straw and clay that vents naturally and maintains temperatures for storing wine, a perfect example of how a natural approach has double and triple dividends.

Natural vinification techniques are becoming more and more prevalent today as well.  In an approach to be much more hands-on, some winemakers are striving to keep their hands off.  Using naturally occurring wild yeasts for fermentation, and staying away from sulfites in all but the final bottling stage, letting the dirt and the grapes speak for themselves is a nod to what’s in store up ahead.  Broc Cellars of California is the perfect example of the future these ideas are shaping, and I’m looking forward to seeing it on our list soon.  And by seeing, I mean tasting.

Another treasure we’re unearthing from this revered past is the European ideal of regional eating and drinking.  Eating local fare and sipping the local tonic was understandably common when people first settled here.  After prohibition ended, the push for industrialization led to globalization and carried us away from enjoying what came from our neighbors’ backyards.  With so many committed, talented people around us, crafting such tasty nectar, I think we have much worth celebrating.  Looking out our back door at BC’s darling Pinot Gris, and over the fence at Oregon’s Pinot Noir, returning to a regional drinking model sounds like a bottle well worth dusting off.

Just like everything else at Pourhouse, the wine list has revealed itself to be full of careful choices, tied to a central theme.  Behind every label on our list is a story worth hearing, a bottle worth celebrating.   Looking into our past as a source of inspiration for what and how we drink today has excited me for what’s to come.

BC Pinot Noir

For as long as I can remember, part of the joy of traveling through the Pacific Northwest was getting to sample the seemingly endless selection of great craft beers. And every time i returned home i would curse the local draught… why can’t we have craft beers like they do?

Well those days of cursing are over. In the last few years BC’s craft beer scene has exploded, with the quality of our ales rivaling anything south of the border. Though you wouldn’t know it, unless of course you walked into the Alibi Room and stared dumbstruck at the 30+ tap selection of predominantly BC beers. Do they really make beer in Chilliwack? Wow, they make really GOOD beer in Chilliwack!

Hold that thought… let’s get back to the Pourhouse for a moment.

Beer bats at the Alibi Room

When the Pourhouse opened we had the beginnings of a promising draught line-up, most notably with the Pike IPA from Seattle and Brooklyn’s Pennant Ale. But somehow, somewhere we lost our way, buying into corporate breweries who were masquerading as craft beers. We don’t need to mention any names here. Before I knew it, there were fewer and fewer beers on tap that I actually wanted to drink. And as Neil Ingram from Boneta said about wine, don’t put anything on your list you wouldn’t want to drink yourself. Simple, right?

That’s where the Alibi Room fits into this picture. Make no mistake, we LOVE the Alibi Room. If you haven’t been yet do yourself a favour. Whether to sample the cask conditioned ales, watch freight trains passing by, or get an education in beer, the room is reminiscent of the very best that Seattle and Portland have to offer. And it’s right here in Gastown. We knew there was no better person to ask for advice about beer than Nigel Springthorpe, the Alibi Room’s modest owner. He helped us get our heads back on straight and sort out our draught line-up out. The smaller challenge was to choose from such a vast selection of incredible beers and funnel that into just six taps.

3 lads enjoying a cask ale, beer engine in the background. Alibi Room.

I have to make one more comment before I talk about what we finally decided upon. Vancouver suffers from a “we’re not really good enough” complex. A friend of mine once described Vancouver as an awkward teenager, and I think that’s exactly where we are at in terms of our cultural development. We aren’t exactly sure of our identity and hence we are always second guessing ourselves. Or copying others. For example, I know probably a dozen electronic musicians and deejays who could barely fill a 200 seat club here in their home town, but are packing massive venues in Europe. So guess what… they moved to Europe. Vancouverites will flock, and pay big money, to see artists from all over the world play here, but we just can’t seem to recognize that what we have here is good enough. And not just good enough, exceptional.

We never had chalkboards like this in school. Downstairs at the Alibi Room.

So damn it, we make stouts and IPAs that are just as good as Seattle and Portland! There, I said it. And it’s true. So it is within this recognition that the beer program at Pourhouse will focus heavily on BC craft beers, with one PNW tap and one European lager. The line-up will always represent the five basic styles; a lager, a wheat beer, an ale, an IPA, and a stout. The sixth tap will be a rotating tap, whatever we happen to be excited about at the moment. So the upcoming roster is as follows: Pilsner Urquel, Driftwood’s White Bark Wheat Ale from Victoria, Deschute’s Mirror Pond Ale – Bend, Oregon, Red Racer IPA from Surrey, and Crannog’s Back Hand of God Stout – which incidentally was Canada’s first certified organic brewery. Coming soon on the rotating tap could be Howe Sound’s Pothole Filler Imperial Stout, Red Racer’s ESB, and R&B’s Bohemian Lager.

So now after work I face a new dilemma… I can’t decide which beer to drink because I absolutely love them all. Neil, you were right. And Nigel, thank you.

We hope you like the beers as much as we do.

Not so faraway trains passing by. A lazy afternoon at the Alibi Room.

Photos by flett.

Technorati Tags: Brian Grant, Pourhouse Bartender, Pourhouse Bitters