Burlesque and Beer...

While some may not regard Syracuse in any way, shape or form, as has been proven by the media when it is solely referred to as "Upstate New York," let me assure the reader that there is more to it than the NCAA. I'll be the first to admit that winters suck. They suck hard. The four months or so we must endure of ice scraping, snowblowing and skin chafing may sound like a bum deal, but the other eight months are sheer bliss. Syracusans are a tough breed -- they drive under treacherous conditions without flinching, work hard, and certainly play hard. The evidence can be seen in the serious business of fun and beer, in all of its glorious forms.

I recently had the fortune to enjoy some brew and entertainment, my favorite combination. First, the obligatory colleague send-off at hotel bar near work. Not my idea of a great beer story, but I have to start from the beginning. Maybe I have been living in big cities for too long, so much so that I was compelled to get a pitcher of Miller Lite for six bucks. A good starting point -- cheap, light beer for the colleague happy hour. I usually don't mix business with beer, but as is with most send-offs, it's either a kick out the door, or a bon voyage brew. After a few chuckles and glasses, it was off to my next destination...the REAL happy hour in downtown. Syracuse's Armory Square is one of my favorite places to hang out and appreciate beer in the U.S. and happens to be tops on others' minds as well. I was set to meet another colleague and her posse who were waiting for me. Now was the time for the mouthwatering Boddy's and good conversation, making new friends. There was talk about a burlesque show...it was featured in the local New Times (I hadn't read about). At first the talk was exciting -- a burlesque show? In Syracuse? What an oxymoron. Syracuse is a beer and party town, but I wouldn't call it a sexy place.

On to the next pub for the obligatory and silky Beamish. I will never tire of it -- NEVER! I observed a yawn, and some hesitation from one of our party members, who might have changed her mind on a dime. I wasn't ready for the night to end or for the beer to stop flowing, so went we did. Not many atmospheres intimidate nor phase me, but I didn't know what I was in for. The show was not in trendy Armory Square, but in a townie suburb by the name of Mattydale. The place was called Mac's Bad Art Bar. Was there bad art in the bar? Who is Mac? Would there be quality beer like at the Limerick? I quickly found out, after a $5 cover charge, that there was bad art a la black velvet paintings; I don't know who Mac is; and their best beer was probably a Bud. I didn't bother to find out if they even had a beer menu. It was getting late, my belly was full from the Beamish, and I wanted to stay awake for the show, so I opted for Bud Light Lime. A good way to end the night and not get trashed. Although I was out of my element at Mac's since I didn't have a mullet, a frizzy perm, or a guy on my arm with a black Harley leather jacket, I was relatively comfortable. I was staying for the show dammit!

As I nursed my beer, we had to endure the painful sounds of a cover band from Utica. As if Syracuse wasn't small enough, I had to hear a band from an even smaller place! This would have been a perfect time for a tequila shot, but I had to keep my vision in focus for the show. I have never in my life experienced a band who "sang" Billy Joel, Twisted Sister, and Blue Oyster Cult's "Godzilla" in the same set. After I wiped the blood from my ears, it was time to sip on some more intoxication and watch the show unfold before my eyes. A burlesque virgin but no stranger to the biker bar and mullet mix, I strangely felt in my element. Maybe it was the sixth beer.

As much as I like to drink the meaty and malty microbrews, I think that the tame and sometimes lame light ones justify the occasion, such as the colleague "get me out of here" happy hour or the burlesque "don't weigh me down now beer" show. As the men were camera happy and the girlfriends and wives were thinking of new ways to use a chair, a top hat and a lolipop, there I was, sippin on my suds and just enjoying it all.

Of Myths and Micheladas...

Just like other holidays that have been whored out and watered down, Cinco de Mayo is no exception. As I went grocery shopping this evening after work, the Tostitos were on sale, as was the Old El Paso salsa that you mix with some Velveeta cheese, pick up a case of Corona Light, and say you've celebrated "Cinco de Drinko." I cringe. That's how most Americanos celebrate a holiday they know nothing about, and drunkenly shout out, "Happy Mexican Independence Day man! I love you dude!" For starters, Cinco de Mayo is NOT Mexican Independence Day. It marks the Battle of Puebla, where the Mexicans defeated the French in 1862. Not a large holiday in Mexico, it has somehow become the Mexican version of St. Patrick's Day. While I'm not one to scoff at a reason to party, I am one for accuracy.

Take, for instance, the michelada. Someone recently asked me, "what is a michelada?" So here I am, on the eve of the anniversary of the Battle of Puebla, here to explain a little bit of Mexican and beer history. This beloved Mexican beverage has become my favorite beer cocktail. Sure, there are times to savor straight up beer (99% of the time), then there are the times to squeeze a lime in your Corona (summer time). Michelada time can be anytime -- whenever the mood strikes.

The first time I had a michelada was in the early 90s, in Mexico City's then-trendy Zona Rosa. My cousin Ady ordered it for me and promised me that I would like it. I was hooked instantly. Even as I write now, my mouth waters in a reflex just thinking about the beer-lime-salt concoction. Fast forward to 2007 or so. Mexico City, random bar in Polanco, one of the city's now-trendy areas. Same cousin, but now orders a michelada Cuban style. I was thrown a curve. What had happened in the span of 15 years? I thought a michelada was beer with lime and ice, with a salt-rimmed glass? Seems that there are different versions of the beer drink, and they are all yummy. You can have it simple, or with Maggi sauce, tomato juice, and/or hot pepper sauce.

Sounds crazy. It is. It works. It's a symphony for the tastebuds. True beer afficionados in those snooty blogs condemned Mexican style beers like Miller Chill, Bud Light Lime, Bud Light Chelada (Bud Light pre-mixed with Clamato and lime!), and Michelob Ultra with Cactus Lime. Sure, they are catchy, appeal to women watching their carb intake, and not true beer drinker's beers. I agree. However, these are pretty good beers to make a michelada. Trust me on this one. Unfortunately, I am unable to get Bud Light Chelada in Upstate New York, so whenever I'm in South Florida I'll stock up. There are so many ways to prepare the michelada, so I'm including a decent recipe from Saveur, and some historical info and recipes from Wikipedia.

Mexican beers are great for making micheladas too (such as Modelo, Tecate, Dos Equis Lager), but I much prefer to drink those solo or with a squeeze of lime and salt right on the lip of the can. Just the way my parents did it when I was a kid. The memory of sampling beer with lime and salt from a can, on the beaches of Acapulco as a small child, breeze running through my hair, smell of ocean and coconuts -- little did I know that was my first michelada.