40 Ounce Casualty

I'd be a hypocrite if I did not preface this post by saying that I was not part of the craft beer movement in the early to mid 2000s. But its funny how all things seem to come full circle at some point...

The 40 ounce beer can be considered an enigma; what is it's purpose? If the standard can or bottle can be used to achieve the same amount of beer, why package it in this manner?  Firstly, you need the historical perspective:

• 40OunceMaltLiquor.Com has a great write-up on the history of this beer, from more of a fan perspective
• J. Nikol Beckham looks at "black beer culture" and how malt liquor has been inevitably tied in with it.
• Kihm Winship has another great write-up on 40 ounce beers, "a story without heroes." 

Essentially, malt liquor began burgeoned from necessity, from both Prohibition and World War II. Supplies were limited and drinkers complained that post-Prohibition beers lacked the "kick" that pre-Prohibition beers had. Fast-forward...with the help of some chemists and corn, malt liquor was born and contrary to popular belief, it was originally marketed to "white America." The larger size beers (32 ounce, 40 ounces, and the extinct 64 ounce) were marketed as "picnic beers," meant to be shared among a few people, much like a bottle of soda or seltzer. Country Club, one the earliest malt liquors, was marketed toward the upper class, as can be seen in the name and the advertisements. Kihm Winship notes that this supposedly "un-obvious" transition to marketing towards Black America happened around the time of the Civil Rights Movement, when marketers realized that there was now a whole new market of consumers that needed to be reached. He also notes that the statistics at the time only showed that 33% of all malt liquor drinkers were black, which would mean that 66% were non-Black, adding to the question of why was it marketed towards Black America, unless the idea was that they had a specific demographic. Mr. Winship also notes that a similar study was performed by Newport cigarettes and this is why that brand was marketed to Black America. Although it always seemed like a stereotype, the Billy Dee Williams Colt 45 ads seem to be the venturing of companies into this type for marketing. Not much later, 40 ounce beers were being discussed in rap lyrics and later, groups were being used for advertisements.  And the stereotypical history is, for the most part, history.

My new found fondness for 40 ounce beers burgeoned from a stint of unemployment. For many years, to that point, I was the guy showing up to parties with some obscure Eastern European beer or some rare local beer that was only being released via growlers. But after losing my job, I no longer had the money to buy these types of beers. And often with unemployment comes the need for more quantity at a cheaper price. Initially, twelve packs of Stroh's (ok...I admit it...115 packs), Schlitz, and Schaefer were in the rotation. But I found that I often drank more than I needed to, adding to the depression of being unemployed. And during a un-fruitful afternoon of job searching, I read a pleasant blog post about a man reminiscing about grabbing two Ballantine beers from the cellar each night before dinner from his father. My interest was peaked; I have always been nostalgic and wanted that "beer" that people would say, "Yeah..that's the beer Dan used to drink." So I hunted the beer down to find that it mostly appeared in 40 ounces form, even though its ABV is less than 5% . It's essentially a poor man's pale ale, with a skunky, hoppy bite at the front and that soapy dish soap finish. However, it is one of the best of the bunch when it comes to 40 ounce beers.

I refer to a "new found fondness" because 40 ounces had been on the docket from late high school through college. Olde English 800 owned the late high school years into college; a Big Bear made an appearance for a while, with cameos by Crazy Horse, Country Club, Silver Thunder, Hurricane,  Colt 45, St. Ides, and King Cobra. Late high school consisted of a Friday afternoon 40 in Central Park, to pick up a good buzz for the train ride home. Olde 800 English headlined many nights of lunacy, poor judgement, and "the spins." Big Bear represented while being away at college, as my roommate and I would drink it in paper bags in the woods behind our dorm, a homage to high school.

Its funny how I pop out a Ballantine 40 at a party and someone will inevitably say, "How do you still drink that shit?" This phrase is usually uttered by someone holding a blood orange pale ale. I could use this section to go into a tirade about how certain 40 ounce beers hold some merit but instead will focus on...how the discussion will soon turn to vivid, happy memories of days gone by, of house parties, high school hi-jinx, and days when having a good time meant more than anything else. I don't hold on to the past but its nice to know that getting older doesn't mean completely disconnecting from my youth. Sure, there are merits to the 40 ounce now...the idea of finality, that there will not be a few extra beers in the fridge that I don't need to drink...the idea of price...how a responsible night of drinking costs $7.13...but its also about the hunt...these 40 ounce beers are becoming dinosaurs, as even the shadiest gas station stocks up on Sierra Nevada, and finding the rare 40 ounce beers has become a thrill much like finding a Hacker-Pschorr Sternweisse was ten years ago. If anyone who reads this has found a spot that sells odd 40 ounces, drop a line here. You can never know when a great one will show up. For example, on a ride back from Orient Point Park, I found a 40 ounce of Hurricane at a gas station in Greenport, a quaint seaside town that offers fine dining and attractions for those looking for a Hamptons experience. A Long Island Frugalist looks for deals in any shape, size, or form and to me, a $2 40 ounce of Mickey's fits that bill. With that in mind, a shout-out to Bellmore Beverage, who has kept the flow of Mickey's and Ballantine 40 ounces steady for the past few years.

Entenmann's Banana Bread Loaf Cake

The Entenmann's family of dessert products...they are part of my family. However, I never realized there was another "n" in Entenmann's. And no, not the final "n" but rather the "ten" part. For years, I have said, "Hey, yeah, I'll stop off and pick up an Ente-man's" (phonetic spelling here). And there lies the conundrum. From one perspective, nothing says, " I couldn't give a shit less about your gathering and refused to put any thought into bringing a dessert," than bringing an Entenmann's soft-baker cookie box or a box of chocolate glazed donuts. However, as we all know, they are always a hit and end up getting buried well before anything else. So, from another perspective, it is a sure-winner, among the sober, drunk, and high alike.

Loaf/Ass

Marshmallow No Helpey!

Never any crumb left...

My childhood memories of family gatherings resonate around specific Entenmann's products: the shitty loaf-line (sour cream, lemon, ass, etc.), enjoyed only by my grandmother and brother, the Marshmallow Iced Devil's Food Cake (chocolate cake with marshmallow icing that ruins it), the 8 Variety Pack Donuts (Disappearing Order = Crumb, Chocolate, Glazed, Plain [usually 2 left]), and the assortment of crumb cakes (from standard to ultimate). But there was one cake that seemed leaps and bounds above them all...the  Banana Cake, described by Entenmann's as , "Moist and flavorful banana cake topped with creamy banana and chocolatey icing. A delicious treat for banana lovers!"

This magnificent creation graced the table for many years but seemed to disappear although it is still listed as available. Instead, we were left with nothing to fill the void. That is until the limited Banana Bread Loaf Cake meandered in to a family party at some point. Although the loaf family usually makes me cringe, this loaf had that flavor that brought me right back to that Banana Cake. I thought that I may miss the frosting but I did not...rather I rejoiced in loaf - that synthetic banana flavor was all there, fostering memories of Sunday afternoon Turbo Nerf tosses after a substantial Italian, all of which was completed by 4:00 pm. It was moist, substantial, and effectual -  a perfect dessert paired with a hearty perked coffee. So the next time you reach for the soft-baked cookies, keep an eye out for the Banana Loaf...your party will thank you...but if they don't at least you will have something mint to take home.

IKEA

IKEA is for shopping. It is for buying hip things with foreign names. It is about thrown wrenches and hammers while putting things together. It is about crowded parking lots, college freshman, and shitty, useless shopping carts. But there is one reason that I will always accompany my wife or whoever else to this spare parts warehouse...the food court. And no, not the one upstairs that serves food in a cafeteria-like setting at reasonable prices. I am talking about the first floor, Nassau Coliseum-like food stand that can be easily accessed from outside, especially if you want to be a dick and park in the "Pick Up Only" section. I must admit that I have gone on many occasions to IKEA merely to eat; as much as I knew that I needed a bookcase made of cardboard and glitter, I knew that I had $3.00 in my wallet which equaled 6 hotdogs. Sure, to most, that seems like an obscene amount. But these are those small-time deals, the cheap bun-size wieners you would serve after your little league team receives their third-place trophies. Satisfying in the nostalgic sense - satisfying in the wallet sense. But I am here to discuss a newer item that I ran across recently - the Swedish Meatball sub. This three-bite (or four if you go a meatball at a time) is comprised of 4 of IKEA's silky Swedish meatballs stuffed into the surplus of .50 hot dog buns they have laying around. Silky is the best way to describe these meatballs; a super-soft texture, with a smooth, creamy mouth-feel with spices that probably include cardamom and coriander. This "sub" costs $1.00 and rivals destroys Subway's ridiculous six-inch "turkey" meatball sub, especially since you can get three of these for the same price. This lower-level fun zone also has $1.00 and below cinnamon buns, pizza slices, and soft serve cones. I respect IKEA for trying to instill that old school notion of spending an entire day shopping. It reminds me of my early days with my grandparents, spending a full day Christmas shopping at Green Acres Mall, dining at the food court as a means of making it through a full day of shopping. If you are anywhere near the Hicksville IKEA, its worth dropping in for the stadium-style food they offer.