Anthony Trollope: The Way We Live Now

At over 750 pages, this is Trollope's longest work. I nevertheless managed to read it in less than 10 days due to my sprained ankle and the victorian soap-operaness that pervades this book. There are many sub-plots, all revolving around Melmotte, the great financial scoundrel that shines like a comet in London for a year. A really infectous read, perfect for christmas holidays next to a fireplace, but not sure if I do like it after all; it has a somewhat overly sweet ending and language-wise Jane Austen wins hands down.

Thomas De Quincey: Confessions of an English Opium-Eater

It took me a long time to actually go through and read this book. It's a truly bizarre literary contraption. It reads as an unedited ramblings of an intelligent and witty, but otherwise stubborn English aristocratic fart. It is an autobiographical account of opium addict from the times, when the addictive properties of opium were not fully understood and you could buy stuff in a drug store. Essentially the dude got a toothache, which he attributed to not washing his face with cold water every morning (?!) so he did water his entire head one evening and ending up having a terrible cold. And so a friend recommends opium as relief (?!). As simple as that.

The best part of the book is the insight you get into the customs and thinking of the time; there is really nothing transcendental about this book, it is as deeply rooted in its time as it gets, together with all class, gender and racial prejudice. And then there is the great English wit. Witness this:

"Neither Coleridge nor Southey is a good reader of verse. Southey is admirable almost in all things, but not in this. Both he and Coleridge read as if crying, or at least wailing lugubriously."

"Positively, in one line of communication to the south of Holborn, for foot passengers (known, I doubt not, to many of my London readers), the road lay through a man's kitchen; and, as it was a small kitchen, you need to steer cautiously, or else you might run foul of the dripping pan."

"Turkish opium eaters, it seems, are absurd enough to sit, like so many equestrian statues, on logs of wood as stupid as themselves. But, that the reader may judge the degree in which opium is likely to stupefy the faculties of an Englishman, I shall (by way of treating the question illustratively rather than argumentatively) describe the way in which I myself often passed on opium evening in London during the period between 1804 and 1812."

And so on and on... Really fascinating stuff.

Fraoch Heather Ale

This is a terrible photo stolen from flickr, and I like it because the glass is exactly wrong kind of glass for this kind of beer. Anyway, this is one of those beers that you mindlessly put into your basket only to discover it is damn expensive at the checkout (at least in Whole Check Foods, where things are even more expensive than usual). Either way, the beer is quite good, it has a distinctly British character and it is a nice refreshment from the hoppy madness of local American beers. I got an unexpected proustian flashback of my times in England. A very mellow, somewhat sweet taste, balanced to the level you don't really notice anything in particular, a slighly bitter taste and a then an easy Sunday afternoon tipsiness.

UPDATE:
Ok, the owner of the photo has contacted me and is upset about me stealing the pic and saying it is terrible! I now linked the pic to the original source and want to stress that comments were not meant to be derisive but rather playful: I do like the photo! Really!

Michael Pollan: Omnivore's Dilemma

Reason for reading this book was a very Berkeley one. My colleague was supposed to be organising a series of diners/discussions on food politics and we were all supposed to read Pollan's book. It is quite infamous in Berkeley circles.

I have several reservations about this book. The biggest problem is that it reads as a really long in-flight magazine article. The dude is a journalist and it shows. There is no scholarly rigour, it is mostly a readable entertaining prose, more like a travel documentary rather than a serious book about food. If you like a genre like this, then you might like the book, but it is not very intellectual. Having stated this, the book is still worth reading because of the factual information it provides; it gives several convincing arguments against industrial production of food and puts my dislike of Whole Foods / recent fad on organic food on a firmer basis. Finally, some of the Salatin's methods described in the book are just genius and this book has convinced me that this might be the way to go, after all.

Ommegang: Ommegeddon

You don't see a beer with an atomic explosion on its bottle every day! It's a beautiful beer from Ommegang Brewery which, according to the label, is "3,264 miles from Brussels, but its heart is right in Belgium". It is also part of Duvel empire (see dude's comment under my Duvel post). It is also very expensive at $11 per bottle. Decently strong at 8%. In some respects it is close to spontaneously fermented beers, mostly in its acidity and fruity after taste (I think it is the Brett yeast that does it). However, much more civilised and drinkable. My drinking partner claims it is "maybe a bit too sweet?". Maybe, I wouldn't have noticed it.

The bottle explains the bomb picture: "And remember: 'Don't wait for the Last Judgement. It happens every day.' (Camus)". Oh, yeah!

Russian River: Beatification

This is possibly the most expensive beer that I have ever bought. $13 for a bottle of 375ml, i.e equivalent of a $26 per a wine bottle, but taking into account the poshness premium on wine, it is more like a $100 wine bottle. Anyway, it is a mixture of two spontaneously fermented beers, which are in turn fermented again in the bottle. Spontaneous fermentation is my favourite, it is a true art of Belgians that make beer rot and acquire random bugs from the air in a semi controlled manner - this makes each batch unique (my was batch #2). It is extremely sour, like a lemonade and quite fizzy due to secondary fermentation. Not complex, but with a beuatifuly simple vision instead. A truly acquired taste that I wish I could afford to sample more often.

Green Flash: Trippel

"Rich pale malt flavors provide a solid base for zesty Styrian Golding and Czech Saaz hopping. Trappist ale yeast contributes the fruity, spicy profile of classic, monk-brewed, Belgian ales. Our Trippel is luscious, fiery, golden brew and a contemporary rendition of traditional Belgian Trippel." I am drinking this beer for the second day in a row. Yesterday it was my pick and today's it was Maya's. Her claim is that it is "definitelly too sweet". Off record she would also say that it is "too dense". I concur.
Note however, that it uses famous Slovenian Styrian Golding hops - that was my main motivation for buying it in the first place. Plus, green flash is an astronomical event...