Texas "Red" & Indian Brown Ale

As some of you may have heard, Sarah and I are on the cusp of a pretty big change.  If you read the Smoked Beef Brisket Benedict post you might recall that I had some important guests visiting from the far off land of Denmark about a month ago.  In actuality, those guests were the fine folks from Mikkeller (yes, that Mikkeller!) who were in town on business and, among other things, interviewing me for the barbecue chef position at Warpigs, the soon-to-be legendary collaboration brewery they are launching with the equally fine folks at 3 Floyds.  Well friends, I am very pleased to announce that I was offered and have accepted that barbecue chef position which means that Sarah and I are soon moving to Denmark!  That's right, in the very near future, The Beer and Food Project will set up post in the exciting city of Copenhagen where I will help to lead the introduction of American style barbecue to the Danish people.  Pretty damn exciting!

So aside from barbecue - which has pretty much occupied most of my culinary brain for the last month - for nostalgic reasons, I've also been spending some goodbye time with the foods I find to be distinctly "Chicago." Chili is definitely one of them.  Technically it didn't originate in Chicago (like barbecue, it's mostly associated with Texas) but Chicagoans LOVE their chili.  It's the food of Sunday football games and family get togethers and most every Chicago person I know has their own "best" version.   I'm no different and like my chili making counterparts, I'll cockily assert that mine rivals most others.  The difference between them and me, perhaps, is that I'm actually willing to share it here.

Smoked Brisket Benedict & White Oak Jai Alai

Two very exciting things happened this week.  The first was that I had some distinguished beer guests visit from Denmark.  I'll keep their identities under wraps for now but if you know anything about the craft beer world, you probably guessed at the mention of "distinguished" and "beer" and "Denmark" … and you're probably damned impressed!  I know I was!  I'd promised them a barbecue feast and in my unbridled enthusiasm procured a slightly enormous, fifteen pound brisket.  Of course fifteen pounds is far more than any four men could consume in one sitting (even hungry ones and even those of hearty viking descent) but I was excited and thus went a tad overboard.  So, home came the mighty piece of meat were it smoked for a solid twelve hours and was shared with my new friends alongside baked beans, good camaraderie and whiskey sours.  It was a terrific afternoon that I felt truly privileged to host and though we got through a respectable amount of the meat, at meal's end there was plenty left over.

Rueben Sandwich with Corned Beef Tongue & Dogma Ale

Years ago, I had one of my first, great bonding moments with my (then new) father-in-law, Steve, over a particularly mountainous and delicious plate of corned beef hash.   Sarah and I had just spent a week in the wilds of Northern California visiting her family and her folks took us out for a goodbye breakfast before we hopped our plane back to a Chicago.  "What is everyone having" Sarah asked casually as we perused the menu.  "Corned beef hash!" Steve and I proclaimed in anticipatory unison.   When the plates of hash arrived, heaped high and steaming, we grinned at each other, relishing our fine choice.   "You're going to eat ALL of that" Sarah somewhat judgmentally sniffed.  "YEP!", we exclaimed again in gleeful affirmation.  Consumed with our hash, I think he and I said about two words throughout the remainder of breakfast.   However, between bites we'd catch each other's eyes and giggle quietly at the expressions of silly satisfaction we both wore.  I'm sure the ladies thought we had lost our minds!  We ate every last morsel and felt appropriately indulgent.  I've shared a lot of meals with my in-laws since then and every time a menu with corned beef hash presents itself, Steve and I partake with as much vigor as we did over that first breakfast.