Pasta, Meat, Beer Sauce, and The Consequences of Rugby Orgies

You'll be using this a lot, if you do indeed try some of the recipes and techniques recorded here. This is probably my crowning achievement in the kitchen. Unless you count that time with the girls' rugby squad. Regardless, I'm very proud of it (and unlike the rugby team, to date it has never given me gonorrhea).

Beer gets kind of a bad rap in America. The main reasons for this are high-schoolers (kids, if you really want to rebel against your parents and society, and potentially screw up your body and lifestyle forever, join a punk band. You'll get lots more respect that way), and sports advertisements (beer does not increase your sex appeal, and bad beer actually lowers it. I'm looking at you, Miller Light). But beer is not redneck blood (with the exception of PBR), nor is it the last refuge of the haggard office worker (that would be cocaine), and its not even the root of all evil that explains why your kid is so quiet and moody all the time (that's actually because you're a bad parent and you went terribly wrong somewhere). Beer has always been a philosopher's drink, a craft honed by generations, often the center of a community (the word "pub" is short for "public house," and the word "bar" is short for "barking madmen holed up in a dank, smelly pit and thus sequestered away from civilized society, allowing it to go on with its business unhindered") and, in times past, it the only thing around that was safe to drink! Only recently has beer gotten the evil reputation that most people associate with it. Even now, the true scions of beer are fighting back, against both the misplaced but strong concerns of society AND against the multimillion dollar companies that do little to dissuade people of such concerns, and continue to make bad, cheap beer. There is tasty, well-crafted beer out there, and you can and should make use of it.

You don't even have to drink it!

There are tons of ways to use beer in cooking, and I won't go into all of them. Besides, none of them are as good as mine, anyway. This particular concoction is about three years old, and it started with having no idea what to put with the pasta I was making (we didn't want to use tomato sauce because it was a little boring, and we were all out of deer blood). Inspiration struck me when I looked down at the bottle I was holding - it wasn't not the greatest beer in the world but not too bad, either. I took a sip. It was spicy, evenly thick, and had a bit of a nutty, cheesy thing going on in the aftertaste. The hops (the bittering and sterilizing agent in beer, and also the part that's loaded with Vitamin C) were clean and fresh, and encouraged continued drinking. I looked down at the skillet I'd gotten out, and the veggies, butter, and flour I'd laid around it.

A fire grew inside of me, and I knew what I had to do. And now, I shall teach you.

First off, a word upon the choice of beer. Different types of beer (even different brands creating ostensibly the same type of beer) will get you different results with our sauce. Ales are great all-purpose beers for this sauce, but there's a great range of ales. If you use something like a Killian's Irish Red, your sauce will carry over that beer's woody, bitter taste, ideal for use with red meat; Flying Dog's Tire Bite Golden Ale was pretty much made to bring out the flavors of poultry; Stone Brewery's Arrogant Bastard turns out a gravy-like cousin to Stroganov sauce, perfect for sauteing mushrooms and root vegetables. And its not just ales that are useful, either - wheat beer pairs perfectly with delicately-flavored fish (in fact, Blue Moon's seasonal springtime beer, Rising Moon, is pretty much the perfect pairing for catfish - don't even bother with the lime pepper, the kaffir lime in the beer will do all your work for you). Don't be afraid to break out the weird, flavored beers, either - O'Fallon's Pumpkin Beer goes decently with any meat but where it really shines is when it combines with squash and slightly overcooked carrots for the creation of a thick, stewy sauce. I haven't experimented with lagers yet, but I suspect they'd be good for pork chops. As Thanksgiving approaches, I'm gonna try and get my hands on some Sam Adams' Cranberry Lambic, because Jesus Christ what better beer to inundate white-meat turkey in, am I right? I'm right. I'm always right. Stouts and porters might go well with cinnamon pasta (coming soon to a food blog near you), though I admittedly haven't tried this yet, either.

You know, just thinking about this makes me realize just how big the world of beer actually is, and the nigh-infinite combination of beer-to-meat-to-pasta there are. This is a recipe you can try over and over again, and never get quite the same thing twice. Experiment, re-iterate, go crazy, cook naked, be free, and by god, keeping trying new beers! You never know what you're going to create.

Now, though, a word to the wise - think a little bit about what you combine together. Some flavors will cancel each other out, or even flat-out ruin each other. Some will just taste kinda bland, or you might not taste it at all. Also, use pasta that will fit with the sauce. If you're gonna have thick, strong flavorful sauce (such as that Arrogant Bastard Stroganov), then use pasta that'll scoop up the sauce for you and explode in your mouth, something like mid-sized conchiglie or penne, or fettuccine (think how well it goes with alfredo, duh). On the other hand, maybe you don't use all that much beer because you're going for a thinner, more delicate oil-based sauce, maybe for fish or poultry. In that case, capellini or rice vermicelli sounds perfect to me. Do just a bit of planning beforehand. Just don't plan too much - planning leads to thinking, which eventually leads to philosophizing, which leads one to the inevitable conclusion that there is no meaning to anything we do and that you cooking this delicious beer sauce doesn't matter at all, to you or anyone else, and that really the only thing you could do that would serve any purpose would be to turn up the oven to 400 degrees, climb inside, and hum Great Gig in the Sky to yourself while you wait for the end.

OK, so here's what you're gonna do.

You need to pick out a couple of things. First, and most important, is the meat you're gonna use. This will inform everything else. Next, your beer. If its a beer you wouldn't drink, then why the hell would you cook with it? Because trust me, you're going to drink it - you won't use the whole bottle, and you can't just leave half a bottle of beer lying around. The cats will eventually get into it, and modern science is still unsure of the exact effects of alcohol on household felines. After that, your veggies. Mushrooms, zucchini, broccolli and carrots are my all-time favorite top-40 hits, but undoubtedly onions, leeks, pea pods, edamame, cabbage and peppers would go quite well, too. Finally, pick out the pasta that will best serve your purposes.

Now get a big skillet going - if you've got a wok, that's even better. In fact, let's proceed on the assumption that you have a wok. Every kitchen should have a wok. I know mine does. I always keep a wok handy to beat unsuspecting policemen with in case they ever try raiding my house again. I told them I didn't know where the girls' rugby team was, but if that they ever found them to check Janine for whatever else diseases she's carrying. I don't know for certain that it was Janine who gave me the seven-week-cock-death, but she spent the most time on me, so by sheer probability she's the most likely culprit. Drop a piece of butter and a few crushed garlic cloves on the surface of your wok, now over medium heat, and let them smoke up and leave little bits of brown residue a the bottom - you're gonna want the browned crackly shit that, trust me. Now pour some olive oil in, let it heat up, and start acting on the garlic. While that's going, grab bowl, and pour into it a handful of greated Parmesean cheese, freshly cracked black (or, depending on your meat choice, lime) pepper, and flour. Mix it all up. Take the raw meat and rub it around the mixture. Once the meat is nicely coated, set it aside on a plate big enough to hold all the meat you're gonna be using. By the time all the meat has been cheesed properly, the oil should be more than warm enough.

Chuck in the meat, and watch that oil just go to town on that shit. It'll bubble and broil and crackle and oh man it'll be so fucking cool. Scrape the bottom of the wok with a spoon and work all that brown stuff off, get it going with the meat, which should be starting to cook nicely, and the cheese-pepper-flour mixture should start crispifying on the outside, too. When the meat looks rare, turn the heat down to low-medium, crack open your beer if you haven't already, and pour about, oh, let's say, 8-10 ounces in there, or about half a regular-sized bottle. It'll immediately foam up, probably covering the meat entirely. This is as it should be. The foam will reduce as you stir, which you should definitely be doing. When the foam is more or less gone and you can smell the beer evaporating (it won't be nearly as unpleasant as when you did that with the Jack Daniels last time - in fact, I know no better smell in the world, save possibly for a combination of leather padding, freshly-cut grass, and angry womansex) throw in a little bit of flour - just enough to thicken up the sauce. You can actually skip this part entirely if you want a thin sauce for fish or something, but for the sauce to stand up to any kind of red meat or hearty vegetables, you're gonna want it thick. And speaking of veggies, now's the time to throw them in. Stir like a motherfucker.

Keep an eye on the meat. When its cooked to your preference (I like my red meat medium-rare, but your mileage may vary), lower the heat down to simmer, and get your water boiling for the pasta. While the water's boiling, keep stirring the sauce and meat, don't let anything clump together or let the sauce settle. When the water's ready, chuck in the pasta. Then - guess what - keep stirring the sauce. If the veggies are overcooking and you don't want them to, take it off the heat for a bit, but god damn it all, KEEP STIRRING. This is important - I've never ruined beer sauce, but I've done it in a way that it's not as good as I know it should be, and I've narrowed it down to this part of the process. You've got to keep that sauce active right up to the minute you serve it. Now, the pasta should be almost but not quite al dente - when its got just a little bit of chew left to it, drain it and IMMEDIATELY toss it into the wok, and turn the heat back up. The pasta will finish cooking in the sauce, and it will immediately take on the flavor. When the pasta's done, the whole shebang is done - pour it onto plates or into bowls, stick a fork in there, say your prayers to the Hate Gods, shake some cheese onto it, and dig in.

Invite some friends to help. Maybe that Ultimate Frisbee team you've been checking out.