Three days late and four dollars short ! ! !

Sweet Jesus, what on earth has come over me?

Today being the last month of my own birthmonth, I somehow have overlooked one of history's most essential birth dates: the 28th of March, which was . . .  ummmmmm . . . three days ago. For some reason, I was too busy to write anything more than a dumb joke, when I ought to have written this:

Johann Gottlieb Friedrich Pabst was born in the Kingdom of Prussia on this date in 1836. In 1848. In Chicago, Frederick and his father worked as waiters and busboys. Because the boy had enjoyed his trans-Atlantic voyage to America, he decided to become a cabin-boy on a Lake Michigan steamer. By the time he was 21, Pabst had earned his pilot's license, and was captain of one of these vessels. In this capacity, he met a German named Phillip Best, who was the owner of a small but brewery founded in Milwaukee. Pabst married Best's daughter, Maria, on March 25, 1862. (Write down that date, too!)

For the next year and a half, Pabst plied the waters of Lake Michigan as a ship's captain, until a December accident in 1863 led to a change in career. While trying to bring his craft into Milwaukee harbor, Pabst's ship ran aground. A short while later, Pabst purchased half of Best's brewing company. In that case, perhaps his ship had come in.

Happy belated birthday, Fred. How can I ever make it up?

Oh, I know. Beertender, a round of PBR for the house!

The Beer Hunter was born on this date.

Mark this down on your calendar. On this date in 1942 was born Michael Jackson, the self-proclaimed “Beer Hunter” and “Whiskey Chaser.” By the time he passed away some 65 years later, Michael had reviewed thousands of brews, had written hundreds of articles, and had published scores of books: all on the subjects most dear to the heart of any barfly. His “Beer Hunter” television series is available on DVD, and his books are all in print.

So, if you are looking for a reason to seek out a bar today and hoist a brew or two, I suggest that you do what Michael Jackson would have done. (No, not get another nose job, dammit. Order up a beer!)

Having written yesterday about oysters and beer and such, I think it’s appropriate to add here a few lines from the Beer Hunter’s column “Heaven Sent - Downing Oysters by the Pint.”

Bushy's Oyster Stout revives a tasty tradition
 
Being a stickler for ritual, I have been looking for a beer with which to greet the return of an "r" to the month. After some thought, the answer is obvious: an oyster stout. It might be thought that such a powerful beer would drown the shellfish, but it is a marriage made in heaven. I believe such a brew should actually contain oysters. This is true of the oyster stout just introduced on the Isle of Man, a traditional home of such brews.
 
The earthy intensity of stout is a perfect foil for the gamey brineyness of oysters. Disraeli once wrote of an election celebration: "I dined at the Carkon, on oysters, Guinness and boiled bone..." In the early Victorian period, porters and stouts were everyday beers, and oysters a bar snack as commonplace as peanuts today. Porter dates from the early to mid-1700s, and is characterised by the use of highly kilned malts. Its name is said to have derived from its popularity as a restorative among porters in the markets of London, though I am not so sure. Until the industrial revolution. a brewery typically served a single pub. With the canal era, breweries began to deliver their beers farther afield. Perhaps porter had something to do with its being carried. In the early to mid-1800s, some of the bigger-bodied porters gained the epithet "stout".
 
The rest of this article can be read online: http://www.beerhunter.com/documents/19133-000740.html
 
An interview with the Beer Hunter can be viewed online: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLohwMW7qjU