Beer Wares
Hotwicks Beer Candle
It’s always been a mystery to me why candles are such a rampant industry. They’re inexplicably everywhere in endless variety—from cheap, sickeningly synthetic sacks of wax to haute objects of obsequious, aromatherapeutic veneration. There’s clear value from the perspective of ambiance (candlelight’s flattering, period) and they come in handy when you accidentally let the electric bill slip. But the true offensiveness lies in the olfactory. Shouldn’t our noses be spared from the tired, hackneyed smells of French vanilla, citrus sage or Mediterranean pomegranate invigorating breeze?
Hotwicks, based in Portland, Ore., ostensibly agrees. With options ranging from Campfire (a smoky, woodsy sniff) to Stripper (it’s pink, glittery and redolent of cheap perfume), they’re proud to be a candle company sating the legions of unorthodox-craving nostrils. Here’s the enticing pitch from the Beer tin’s glossy label: “Turn your living room into a bar with the intoxicating aroma of a hundred beers.” Bright yellow—like lemon curd—the candle seems at first innocuous. However, one whiff instantly brings vivid memories of stale pubs, parties, the morning after, and beer spillage to the fore. It’s frighteningly accurate, as everyone who smells it recoils in horror. But we’ll give it due cred: Loaded with no-holds-barred tangy, fermented reekage, it’ll add a little something extra (wink) to your next candlelit gathering. [Available for $8.95 at Hotwicks]
Spicy Southwestern Beer Marinade
If you allow yourself to dip to such levels, browsing the food section at Williams-Sonoma becomes a vicarious thrill in epicurean hedonism. Fancy ingredients stuffed in jars and boxes aplenty stand proudly in tidy matrices, questioning your very core if you really can live without experiencing a dollop of white truffle honey, a griddleful of organic German pancake mix or petite mother-of-pearl spoonfuls of infused caviar. While you’re already addled from fantasizing about throwing a blowout barbeque, complete with panini press and mango pitter, it’s enough to make you snatch a pretty bottle and see what all the fuss is about.
Its 414mL bottle sporting a kicky swing-top cap, W-S’s Spicy Southwestern Beer Marinade is defined as a “spicy lager-based marinade featuring smooth, dark beer and a trio of piquant Southwestern chilies.” Visually, the contents are reassuringly separated, giving the impression that there’s minimal processing or preservatives in the “hand-blended” mix (xanthan gum being the only exception). The beer in question is smooth, dark, malty Shiner Bock from Texas, spiced up with chipotle pepper, New Mexico red pepper and arbol chili. A base of apple cider vinegar tinged with dark brown sugar makes for a snappy, savory flavorfest on chicken, fish and—it is the South, son—meat. For those of us who can’t get our hands directly on Bock, it’s a worthy shortcut, which makes us think that maybe that perfect grill party isn’t so unattainable after all… [Available for $12 at Williams-Sonoma]
Beer Boots
Das boot! Das boot! Das boot! With possibly the most background research done for a Beerware, I witnessed all 112 minutes of the uncut (read: more boobs) version of the lederhosen-meets-trash-talk drinking movie, Beerfest. The film made clear the hazards—or, more euphemistically, refreshing side effects—of drinking beer out of a glass boot. When drinking from it upright, a trapped air bubble in the toe can cause pressure to build and, thus, splash beer in your face.
A popular Oktoberfest sighting, the boot actually traces its origins to the German military about a century ago, from a general who promised he’d drink from his boot if his soldiers successfully stormed a town. You can probably fill in the rest.
For those seeking das boot, online purveyor Bier Boot Haus stocks the widest selection, from itty bitty shot glasses to hulking 2-liter mouth-blown vessels emblazoned with Bavarian crests. If you need a personalized boot (hello? who doesn’t?), they also perform custom engraving. Oktoberfesthaus.com, of the same company, will launch shortly for those seeking a comprehensive selection for all Oktoberfest “biergarten” necessities. Meanwhile, we’ll be busy practicing drinking so we won’t end up with egg—er, beer—on our faces. [Available from $5.99 to $89.99 at Bier Boot Haus] ■
