Can't stop the singing chicken: Kur Zapiał by Browar Błonie

My luck with Polish beers has not been good lately if the piwo isn't a pale lager from Okocim or Żywiec or another of the bigger Polish breweries. Binny's seems to keep beers from Poland on their shelves long past their lifespans until they are these musty, skunky pale imitations of their former selves. And so when I came across this brew I was a bit gun shy.

I didn't find it at Binny's, however, but rather at Deli 4 You in Schaumburg back in December when I was returning to Madison from having spent some time in Chicago at the Christkindlmarkt. And the date on the label read 30.06.2026. Well within freshness tolerance. The Polish craft beer selection there was small but how many Polish craft beers actually get exported to the U.S.? I think they stocked the full complement of Browar Błonie's Polish Folklore series. Why did I buy this one? That is lost to the ages. It could simply have been that I was in the mood for a pilsner that day. (There was, if I recall correctly, a label in English on the back.)

The description at the brewery's website as translated by Google reads, "Light, unfiltered, dry-hopped beer. Refreshing taste and floral-herbal aroma." Oh, the name translated to "The Hen Sang".

For tasting, I busted out my new pilsner glass which I got at Goodwill when shopping for things for my new apartment. A couple years back I gave away most of my beer glasses but wanted a couple two tree for my new life.

The piwo was yellow and had a slight haze - it's unfiltered, remember? There were lots and lots of bubbles which is something I associated with the pils. My pour produced a small head of lovely white foam which lasted an average amount of time. It appeared to be a very pretty pils, to my eyes. The aroma was just as nice with the Polish hops - variety unknown - giving off straw and floral smells. A nice, cracker-like maltiness was to be had as well.

All of those bubbles portended the piwo's big fizz. A delicate biscuity malt flavor was joined by hops that gave a lovely floral taste along with a mild dose of herbal and some straw notes. The maltiness lingered a couple seconds on the finish before the hops rushed in with their floral/straw combo and some attendant bitterness. My tongue tasted smoothness which I figured came from the malt even though there wasn't much grain flavor to be had - some kind of malty-carbo-palimpsest? Just enough bitterness for a slight zip at the end to go with the moderate dryness.

Oh mama, this was a great piwo! It had the delicate pilsner malt flavor down perfectly and I simply adored the floral aroma and taste that the hops gave. The piwo was light and delicate and had just the right floral everything. Just fantastic stuff.

Junk food pairing: The lovely, tasty, delicate floral taste here deserves not to be overshadowed so stick with something on the mellower side such as Simply White Cheddar Cheetos Puffs.

Risking life & limb for Roggenbier - that's the Chicago Way: Winter Beer by Goldfinger Brewing

On my annual autumnal trek last year to lovely Lombard, Illinois for Chicago TARDIS, I had it in mind to seek out some Winter Beer by Goldfinger Brewing. I'd heard tell of it a week or so before and I was intrigued. Besides the immanence of winter and the necessity of winter seasonal beers for survival, it was a rye lager and rye is my grain of choice. To top things off, Goldfinger went against the grain, so to speak, and made a winter beer that wasn't extra potent and instead relied on a hearty maltiness to hold back the nipping of Jack Frost.

Winter was to set in early with a major blizzard forecasted the next day so I set out to get my beer shopping done early so I could settle into the hotel with Christopher Eccleston and Jo Martin until the storm had abated.

With the threat of several inches of snow looming, I hastily made a trek to Binny's. There I found some interesting brews, to be sure, but no Goldfinger Winter Beer. Well, crap. After lunch I attended another panel discussion or two before making the drive to Goldfinger HQ. Walking in I found that place to be hoppin'. I also found no Winter Beer. However, I did find some of their Baltic porter. More on that later.

Discouraged, I went back to the hotel with my tail between my legs and enjoyed myself at the con. But I would not be defeated!

The next day the storm began with snow coming down at quite a clip. Once fully caffeinated, it occurred to me that there are liquor stores that are not Binny's and so consulted the Google oracle. Sal's Beverage World sounded like they'd have a good selection. I mean, it's a whole world of beverages! It was also helpfully located near a peri peri chicken joint which sealed the deal. I could get beer, a family pack of peri peri chicken, and then ride the storm out at the hotel with a bunch of fans dressed up as Cybermen meaning we could recreate The Tenth Planet.

It seems a large percentage of the western burbs had a similar plan because Roosevelt Road was packed and treacherous. Jagoffs in SUVs and Subarus ignored conditions and barreled down the road at normal speed, i.e. - 10MPH over the limit. I kept things steady as cars fishtailed all around me and the street threatened to turn into a demolition derby. And I made it.

My luck was in as Sal's had the precious Winter Lager - and more besides. I stowed my beer securely in the back seat and then made my way to the peri peri joint where I bought a family pack so I wouldn't be forced to eat any of my fellow con goers to survive, er, I mean go to the hotel restaurant. The drive back was frought with peril but I made it back to the safety of the hotel unscathed.

Having risked life and limb, I hoped that the beer was worth it. A Goldfinger lager? Of course it'll be tasty.

 

The beer was a gorgeous copper hue and clear as day. Sitting atop the sea of rye elixir was a big head of loose, off-white foam made of large bubbles. It lasted an average amount of time, I'd say. Inside the glass were oodles of bubbles. The aroma featured biscuit with a slight caramel accent. Hops were grassy.

 

My initial sip confirmed what my eyes had told me: this stuff was good'n'fizzy. At first it seemed odd to be drinking a winter beer that had but a medium-light body to it but the ad copy was right - the brew may have a low A.B.V. of 4.2% but it is rich in malty goodness. The rye provided an earthy bready flavor which was complemented by a touch of doughy sweetness. A nice balance was struck by hops that were a bit on the herbal side but also hay-like. Overall the brew was malt heavy and clean with a touch of astringency.

 

The finish was perfect as the lingering breadiness slowly gave way to the hops which took on a slightly floral taste. They provided just enough bitterness to balance the malt and add a touch of dryness.

 

Unsurprisingly I found this Winter Beer to be great. It was richly malted (including tasty rye!) but not heavy; the hops were tasty and added just the right amount of bitterness. Plus I loved the floral taste they took on during the finish. A most pleasing alternative to the usual winter brews.

 

Junk food pairing: Grab a bag of peri peri flavored potato chips to go with Goldfinger's delicious rye brew. The spicy heat will warm your innards as the earthy spud taste joins the rye for an earthy overload.

The Road of Beans

Upon returning from the UK last autumn, I thought it would be nice to continue the vibe and eat beans on toast again after having had my first proper English breakfast in Leicester. (It is easier to prepare than black pudding.) I cannot eat this often so it would have to be a treat.

I bought a small can of Bush's baked beans for the occasion. While I would have bought some of Heinz's from the UK, a normal sized can was too much for me as I would be eating solo. That and my source of baked beans from across the ocean, Woodman's, stopped carrying the curry beans. Now, had they been on offer, I would have gotten those.

Well, that can of beans sat in my cupboard for a while but I recently dusted it off, threw in some smoked pork loin, and served it over some toast made with bread I made. (Er, my breadmaker made.)

It turned out well and I listened to some IQ as I ate because, while I was waiting to be seated for my first proper English breakfast, IQ's singer, Peter Nicholls, walked right in front of me. I was gobsmacked as I reverted to being 17 again. It's not everyday I get to be in the presence of a prog rock god. Haha!

Crisps of rye

I found these at a store in the Chicago area during a trip back in December but I cannot recall which store. Deli 4 You? Regardless, I love rye and so had to try them. I also love Bavarian sausages and figured these would be...not all that great. Don't get me wrong, I trusted that the rye would be delicious but that the meat flavoring just couldn't be good.

I was right. A fine crunch - these are thicker than Gardetto's rye crisps - and a nice rye taste but the sausage taste was highly suspect. Not unexpected but it was made all the more palatable with a fine brew.

Friendship, fourfold

After work yesterday I went to visit Piper for it was her birthday.

It was a tad chilly and drizzle hung in the air but I don't think she minded in her new spectral form. I enjoyed being in her presence once again. I miss her dearly.

Despite the grey skies and the somber, reflective mood I was in yesterday, I had cause for celebration. A friend invited me to meet him at the Villa Tap for lunch. When I got there, I didn't see him at the bar but heard my name being called nonetheless. I scanned the room but couldn't see the source of the call until some arms moved. A former co-worker was at the bar but her head was in front of the window across from the entry so her face had been obscured in darkness.

It was good to see her as it had been several years. Also at the bar was another former co-worker. A mini-reunion! We chatted for a bit before my friend who had invited me showed up. We found seats at the corner of the bar and caught up on things. Ere long, another friend of ours and fellow Zupan walked in and joined us. I hadn't seen him in many years and I discovered that he is my neighbor.

What a treat! I went there expecting to see 1 friend and ended up seeing 4 people I know, most of whom I hadn't seen in ages. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be dropping in at the Villa more often.

Song of the day:

Live music is better

Last month I returned to The Bur Oak to see Alash Ensemble, a group of Tuvan throat singers, with a friend of mine. I'd seen them there last March and was so enthralled that I bought tickets immediately when I saw that they were returning.

This time around I was a bit closer to the stage and the ensemble was down to three members. I adore all the songs about horses and mountains and life in a far off land.

The performance was just as enchanting as last year's - even more so, perhaps. More than once I fell into a trance. The steady beat and the ethereal singing just lulled me into a peaceful and blissful state, as if I had been led to the Land of the Lotus Eaters and eaten from their stash. It was simply lovely.

Hopefully they shall return soon.

I also availed myself of the opportunity to see Louis Michot last month at North Street Cabaret.

I saw him way back in 2022 with Lost Bayou Ramblers and was eager to discover what his solo work was like.

He alternated between acoustic guitar and fiddle and threw some sampling wizardry in for rhythmic good measure. He played music from his solo career of which I was completely unaware until I attended this performance, as well as some Lost Bayou Rambler tunes. He was two albums, Rêve Du Troubadour and Seauxleaux, under his own name and has collaborated with many other musicians including Leyla McCalla whom I knew from her stint with Carolina Chocolate Drops and Our Native Daughters.

In between songs there was plenty of banter about his life, the songs he played, and about Louisiana and Cajun culture. He told stories about his father Tommy Michot and his band Les Frères Michot where Louis and his brother Andre cut their chops; he talked a bit about the ecology of southern Louisiana; he talked about the New Orleans born composer and musician Louis Moreau Gottschalk before playing one of his songs. Just all kinds of stories.

At one point he asked if anyone had ever been to Natchitoches, a small city in northern Louisiana. I was one of three people to raise their hands. I knew about the Cane River and meat pies as my father had moved there and I got to know the place a little bit after his death when I was down there for three weeks to settle his estate.

He expressed condolences for the loss of Bob Queen who brought many a band here to Madison for the summer festivals and beyond. It sounded like Michot was more familiar with Madison than just a single swing through with Lost Bayou Ramblers.

Switching back to The Bur Oak, I finally saw Los Straitjackets. They're one of those bands that I should have seen 25+ years ago. I have been meaning to see them for ages and I am very glad that I finally did.

They play a lot of surf rock along with more rock/rockabilly tunes a la The Ventures and The Shadows. Also present that night was Deke Dickerson who collaborated with the band on 2014's Sings The Great Instrumental Hits!!!!!! where they took instrumental classics by The Ventures, Dick Dale, et al and put words to the music. In fact, they played a couple songs from that album.

Hearing Link Wray tunes live and loud was a real treat. A fantastic night.

Lastly, I saw Los Lobos down in Stoughton. It had been almost 30 years since I'd seen them at the Barrymore. Last time they came around I waited too long to buy tickets and they had sold out by the time I logged in to hand over my money.

While I didn't get to hear "Everybody Loves a Train", it was still a magical night. "Two Janes" was beautiful, affecting, moving - just great! I closed my eyes as I sang along. They jammed on "Angel Dance" and I loved every note. My mancrush on David Hildalgo continues.

Cesar Rosas asked the crowd at one point how to pronounce "Stoughton" and, upon being told, he said that someone in Chicago was mispronouncing it.

A great show.

Next up is...

Song of the day, 3 April 2026

That Piper cat's something I can't explain

It sucks!

Not long after I moved into my apartment I was given a vacuum cleaner. A few days ago I vacuumed the place and, after I turned it off, a bunch of detritus fell out. Apparently it no longer has the power to fully suck stuff all the way into the dust chamber or whatever you call it. So I bought a new one and it has arrived.

It looks like a particle collider somewhere is missing a piece. Not doubt it'll have plenty of power to suck up cat litter and fur from my new couch, if it ever arrives. The only thing missing from this equation is a new Katze.

New drip

Flexing on the haters with my new drip, showing off that rizzzzzz.

My new argyle socks arrived yesterday.

Happy Birthday, Piper!

Piper has been gone for a month and would have been 13 today. I miss her more than words can say.

I am going to visit her after work.

Freshly roasted beans

One of my co-workers roasts his own coffee and last weekend he roasted 5 pounds of Rwandan beans. He kindly gave me a bag of them earlier this week.

They are off-gassing or setting or whatever it is they do sitting around after the roasting process has finished. I may brew a pot with some tomorrow.

Bigos

I noted a few days back that I had made a batch of shrimp creole that had been planned for months. The same goes for my cooking venture yesterday - bigos (Polish hunter's stew).

My desire to make it once again dates back to the fall, I suspect, but was put off for whatever reason - most likely moving and all things divorce. Then a couple months ago I bought kielbasa and diced pork. Shortly after that I pleaded with a co-worker to bargain for some venison. She acquiesced and blessed me with some cube steak which you can see browning here.

Bigos also involves cabbage. Lots of cabbage. Raw and fermented.

It turned out well. Traditionally seasoning is fairly basic and subtle but I try to tweak it for some extra flava. I think more wine would be good, another bay leaf, and more marjoram. Hell, more juniper too! It made for a nice, hearty breakfast on this cool, rainy morning.

Not one, not two but three peppers! Ah-Ah-Ah!

It was disappointing when I went to the Great Dane in Fitchburg last year thirsting for a Tri-Pepper Pils only to find they were out. I was to meet my boss and another co-worker there and was clad in my new t-shirt on for my boss' benefit -

Her being "salty" at work had been a joke for 5 or 6 years and I got it in burgundy in honor of Burgundy Tuesday at the office. In turn, she had bought a sweatshirt that said "NOPE", her feisty response to my vacation requests and bids to go home early. My wife had found my shirt in the dryer and assumed it had something to do with her which resulted in a late night spat. Uff da!

My boss and fellow co-worker consoled me as best they could that evening and I vowed to sample a Tri-Pepper next time it was on offer.

Next time arrived this week as we met out the Great Dane once again and, this time, the Tri-Pepper Pils was on tap.

A complex chili flavor melded with a nice biscuity maltiness overlaid with a firm, yet moderate, heat. Tasty stuff!

Song of the day, 2 April 2026

I listened to a podcast about Deep Purple yesterday so here's one of my favorites of theirs. Ritchie Blackmore's pilgrim hat is just classic.

Just Jacques' imagination

Upon starting to read this book I discovered that it is not directed at the layreader, at least not very much. Instead it seems to be a collection of essays by Le Goff culled from various journals aimed at professional historians. And I so came upon many terms that I wasn't familiar with. For example, in "Vestimentary and Alimentary Codes" I came across "vair" as being used on the haute couture in the 12th century romance Erec and Enide along with squirrel, sable, etc. The interwebs say vair refers to the fur of a type of squirrel and so I find that the difference between vair and squirrel fur is lost on me.

This is a minor example, I grant you. But he refers to other writers without offering much in the way of qualifications and will occasionally throw something out there for you and just leave it without definition or much context. For example in the essay "The Repudiation of Pleasure" Le Goff looks at the notion that Western civilization was, as we say these days, sex positive prior to the spread of Christianity and that the Church fathers threw a yoke around the libido. But he notes that Paul Veyne and Michel Foucault maintain that a shift towards the prudish took place before Christianity arrived on the scene and that among pagan Romans existed a notion of "virile puritanism". What was that? I dunno as Le Goff just moves on. And, since Le Goff is French, perhaps he felt no need to introduce a couple fellow French intellectuals to his French audience.

Just as the book is a compendium of essays with no attempt to connect everything together, what I got out of reading it is just as random and disparate.

In 1274 the Pope is organizing the Second Council of Lyon and the preparation is done in units of 6 months - travel times, time to fill out and return questionairres, and so on. Le Goff notes, "Six-month intervals were clearly an important spatial and temporal unit in the contemporary minds." I find this interesting in and of itself but would love to know why. Is there a Biblical justification? Something to do with average travel times between cities?

The writings on Purgatory were quite intriguing and showed how conceptions of it appeared and changed over time. We are told that in the days and weeks after death, God granted permission to some souls to leave Purgatory and return to Earth to "solicit aid from relatives in a brief apparition". Le Goff then notes that it was believed that the color of apparitions of condemned souls indicated how much penance they had done. If the spectral figure is a third to a half white then that means more suffrage is needed.

At least twice Le Goff contrasts an antithesis in the minds of Romans vs. medieval clerics. The Roman imagination, he says, was concerned with urbs vs. rus, that is, the city vs. the countryside. But in the minds of medieval clerics the important contrast was nature vs. culture which is to say that which is wild (e.g. - the ocean and the forests) vs. that which was built, cultivated, and inhabited (cities, villages, etc.)

It took me a bit to grok the distinction. For the Romans both the city and the country were places populated by people but they had their own modes of living. By contrast the minds of medieval clerics saw humanity in one place but not the other. I will note that an early essay explained how the forest took the place of the desert in the European Christian imagination.

But this distinction is tossed out more as trivia and never really justified or fully integrated into much of anything. 

There was a lot of interesting stuff here but the book simply has this scattershot feel to it instead of offering a throughline. I would love to read more about each of the individual topics here at greater length with more examples from the Middle Ages and, because I am not a historian of that time, perhaps analogies to my own era. Some good food for thought but I need something more.

New tunes from the Orient

Ningen Isu! My man-crush on Ken-ichi Suzuki continues.

 Plus something new from The Hu! I'd love to see them live again.

Song of the day, 31 March 2026

UW alum finds The Temple of Jupiter Ammon

I have started listening to The Temple of Jupiter Ammon, an audio drama from the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society. It came as a surprise to learn that one of the characters, Jim Whitman, was from my alma mater.

"I’m with the University of Wisconsin, Madison. Department of Anthropology."

His dairy and beer intake is unclear at this point.

Perhaps someone involved with the production is also a graduate.

Song of the day, 30 March 2026

The Crucible of Metal

Crucible is known for hosting various kink, burlesque, and other non-live music events, but they also bring in some very interesting bands. Recently Voivod played there and I went with a friend of mine who took very little convincing. He was, after all, the person who introduced them to me back in the early 90s.

It had been a long time since I had been surrounded by so many people donning blue denim jackets covered in patches. While at the bar I ran into a woman who is an acquaintance of mine. I had no idea she was a metalhead. My companion ran into an old buddy of his from high school that used to come to our parties in college. It must have been nearly 35 years since I'd seen him. He proved to be a metal fan of epic proportions and was there with a friend of his and we all stuck together for the show. Well, mostly.

Madison's Flying Fuzz opened.

They were kids in their 20s playing good old school metal. Melodic riffs and headbanging tempos. A lot of fun for us and I think a lot of fun for them too as they seemed to feel like, "Holy crap, we're opening for Voivod!"

Bat from Virigina were next. A bit older, they were more thrash and got the mosh pit going.

Their bass player reminded me of a friend from high school and I had a mild 1980s flashback. (I hope you're well, Jeremy.)

Finally it was time for Voivod.

I am not the biggest fan and only know tunes from Nothingface and Dimension Hatröss but they were awesome! Thrash weaved together with progressive metal as people moshed and bodies were passed. It was glorious!

It was my first time at Crucible and it proved to be a very intimate space for a show. The sound was good and there really wasn't a spot where you couldn't get a good glimpse of the stage. It had been years since I'd been to a metal show and, despite having advanced into middle age, I engaged in some gentle headbanging and threw the occasional fist and devil horns.

The crowd was engaged and excited; with all the moshing and body passing, the energy in the room was fantastic.

Crucible is a nice walk from my place and the beer prices were not bad at all. I hope to have a chance to return soon.

Here's some nice video footage from that night.

Kubrickian

When I read about Kubrickian, I felt that it was right up my Straße. A trio of guys stuck in a mysterious white room (with no black curtains) arguing about the movies of Stanley Kubrick. Having watched Jim Henson's The Cube just a couple months back, it sprang to mind, especially the stuck in a mysterious white room bit.

I also loved the poster which had a distinct 1970s Eastern Bloc look to it, like it was used to promote Zardoz in Poland back in the day.

Here's a shot of the stage a little before the performance began:

It opens with the lights going out and chaos erupting. The characters are scrambling about on the stage shouting at one another as they attempt to formulate a plan to capture someone or something - presumably their jailer - on the fly. It was creepy and I felt like The Crawler from Annihilation was going to make an appearance.

But it didn't.

Instead the lights come up and we see that Chris, the guy in the track suit above, has what appear to be burns on the insides of his arms. He is an outgoing cinephile who loves Kubrick. Howard is catatonic and sits in the corner staring blankly into the distance. Danny is scared and becomes Chris' interlocutor, his antagonist, and then later his fellow performer.

As Chris discourses on the genius of Kubrick, Danny confesses to not remembering much of Kubrick's work despite having seen a film or two of his. Chris seems in denial of their situation with his rapid-fire declarations of love for Eyes Wide Shut, The Shining, etc. and perhaps hides his fear behind smartassery. Danny, on the other hand, is open about his fears and his need for conversation to keep his sanity.

The play's description is of "a haunting and hilarious look at masculinity, creativity, and capitalism" and these two seems at opposite ends of masculine stereotypes. One appears strong and at the ready - after all, Chris did attempt to capture the jailer and has the burns to prove it - while the other is more feminine and expresses vulnerability.

All the while Howard sits in the corner expressionless.

Suddenly a crevice appears in one of the walls that confines them. Chris steps through leaving Danny alone with his silent companion.

But it isn't long before Chris mysteriously reappears. He now has burns or scars on his throat and we learn that he has been rendered mute. Slowly he and Danny learn to communicate via hand gestures and sounds not produced by the larynx. And as they learn new ways to communicate with one another they learn to be friends.

Another opening appears and this time Danny plunges into the dark. Upon his return he too is mute. As the play reaches a denouement, the pair reenact the opening of 2001: A Space Odessey with the newly bonded friends taking on the roles of the apes and using their hands to pound out Also sprach Zarathustra on their chests and thighs. Howard is used as a stand-in for the monolith.

Having apparently passed a test of some kind, the trio are allowed to leave.

As a Kubrick fan, I found Chris' fanboy diatribes to be fun and funny. Danny was a bit too weak, in my opinion, as if he had capitulated long ago and now refuses to fight. Howard seemed wasted as he sat in the corner far too long and was rarely the object of conversation by the other two.

I appreciated the uncanny, existential feeling engendered by starting the play with the characters already in confinement, of limiting our knowledge of their situation to an enigmatic jailer but I felt the dialogue could have been stronger. The characters offered little, if any, contemplation about their situation and not much about their lives before the white room.

By and large, the story tantalized us with ideas but rarely examined them in any depth. There was a fair bit about masculinity but it seemed a jumble rather than a coherent theme. Creativity seemed more well-developed as we witness Chris and Danny work with one another to communicate via creative means. As for capitalism, nothing more than a line here and there about their jobs pre-white room come to mind that actually addressed this.

It seemed to be a play more about a blossoming friendship, the scene where Chris and Danny kiss notwithstanding, than anything in the ad copy.

Lastly, I felt the pacing was off. There was too much down time with the characters laying and sitting around staring into space. When Danny suggests exercises he and Chris run from side to site of the stage for far too long, the activity being rendered inert and boring to watch.

Henson's The Cube had a vaguely similar premise but it kept things moving and articulated social commentary more robustly.

There were definitely some funny lines and the Kubrick references were most pleasing to this fanboy. Maybe not a diamond in the rough but certainly there's a lot more to be done with the premise. Fun but didn't quite live up to its potential.