These are the words, images, and beers that inspired the GBH Collective this week. Drinking alone just got better, because now you're drinking with all of us.
READ.// “Nouns that describe the plurality of a thing tell you a lot about the essence of said thing. A murder of crows. A kaleidoscope of butterflies. A bushel of apples. A bunch of bananas. A hill of beans. And a bed of rice. A fluffy, pillowy, nutty bed of starchy deliciousness.” Jackie Summers' essay on rice, being ubiquitous and personal at the same time, is stunning. It is a must-read for anyone that finds comfort in food.
LOOK.// Sandy Carson's "I've Always Been a Cowboy at Heart" captures the surreal pockets of America one can find during a bitchin' road trip.
DRINK.// Munkle Brewing Company’s Munk Pils
There are lots of forgettable craft Lagers these days. This little buddy from Munkle Brewing Company separates itself from the field. Its everything you want from a Pils: crisp, slightly sweet and lots of noble hop flavor. In a city that offers as much fantastic food as Charleston, its appropriate they have a great local Lager to go with.
READ.// "Despite his stolid presence, his characters are often thwarted and befuddled—high-strung alpha males driven by an ancient code of valor but tripped up by contemporary frustrations, like a Cro-Magnon man airdropped into Bed-Stuy and handed the wrong person’s latte." I think we must be in the golden age of celebrity profiles right now—long-form pieces by writers like Taffy Brodesser-Akner and Rachel Syme and Michael Schulman regularly floor me (even if I've never had prior interest in the celebrities in question). Schulman's new, New Yorker profile of Adam Driver is the latest to deliver a wallop, no matter what you think about Kylo Ren.
LOOK.// Photographer David Uzochukwu is somehow only 20 years old, but his photos—ethereal, fantastical, like something out of a fable—possess a magnetic quality, and such beautiful vividness, that it feels like he's been in the game twice as long.
DRINK.// Tired Hands' Shambolic
Finally, months after I received it, at a dinner party, surrounded by friends, I cracked upon the bottle of Tired Hands' Shambolic that had been idling in my fridge. A spelt Saison, it was pleasingly earthy, and rustic, but also—likely owing to the fact that it was dry hopped with Nelson Sauvin and Simcoe—almost insanely fruity, too. Some friends likened it to peaches; I thought it was closer to pineapple concentrate. Either way, it tasted like a scoop of sorbet on top of toasted hay, and it was exceptional.
READ.// "The corresponding flow was fluid and bent slightly toward the nihilistic in everything from music to sexual practices to street fashion." Daniel Hernandez profiles an inclusive club space/mindset in East LA for the New York Times. It's easy for me to gloss-over full articles while I'm sitting on the bus, but the way Hernandez illustrates their own personal history of adjusting to Los Angeles during the mid-2000's, contrasting it with the present nightlife scene, almost made me miss my stop. Additionally, the photos in this piece—photographed by Daniel Jack Lyons—illicit more than a few jaw drops.
LOOK.// I saw Mr Twin Sister play four days ago and I am practically still dancing. Their 2014 record is all-over-the-place phenomenal and is perfect to listen to while the sun starts to go down earlier and earlier.
DRINK.// Very Special Cocktail
While I continue to lie to myself each week about participating in Sober October, let me introduce y’all to the exquisite, seasonal craft cocktail I like to call, “I’m Sorry I Made You Walk All the Way From The Other End of the Bar For This But Can I Please Just Have a Soda Water and Bitters.”
Curated by The GBH Collective
