"stout beer" news and stories

Lately, nature has made no sense. Back in March, East Coast temperatures crested 70 degrees. But now it's late May, and instead of bright sun a bone-chilling rain has sunk the mercury to 50 degrees. That's just cold enough to crack a stout. Lucky duck that I am, I have a darn good Iri in the fridge.

Is it Guinness? Though I do sip the occasional creamy Guinness, my tastes run to the rich, roasty bitter end of the Irish stout spectrum. For that, I turn my taste buds to Dublin, Ireland's Porterhouse Brewing Co., the country's largest independent beer maker. Friends Liam La Hart and Oliver Hughes founded Porterhouse in 1989 with a simple mission: "They wanted to brew extraordinary beers with complex flavors," says Matthias Neidhart, of B. United International, Porterhouse's American importer.

To that end, the Porterhouse crew crafted a smooth, slightly briny oyster stout; a generously hopped Irish red ale; and the Wrasslers XXXX. It's a circa-1900s stout re-created from a bygone Irish brewery's recipe. Back then, brewers weren't afraid to make their beers flavorful, and Wrasslers follows that tasty template to perfection.

For more than seven years I've lived in a heavily Caribbean Brooklyn neighborhood, learning to love the pleasures of fiery jerk chicken, gamy goat rotis and foreign-export stouts.

These are bigger, burlier stouts brewed to survive the long ocean treks to the British empire's far-flung, tropical holdings. Jamaica has the delicious Dragon Stout, while Trinidad & Tobago offers the Royal Extra Stout. Then there's the story of Sri Lanka.

More than a century ago, the British came to Sri Lanka to create tea plantations. These Brits craved a taste of home, so enterprising brewers set up shop to slake thirst: They created refreshing lagers and export-style stouts of an uncommon potency. The best of the breed have, since 1881, been crafted by Ceylon Brewery, the manufacturers of the marvelous Lion Stout.

While the urge to guzzle Guinness on St. Patrick's Day may be overpowering, there's no need to follow the herd -- or subject yourself to (gasp!) green beer. These 10 stouts are every bit the flavorful alternative. And yes, if you ask nicely, we'll even draw a shamrock in the beer's foam.

Bell's Kalamazoo Stout:
The marvelous Michigan stout pours coal-black, with an aroma of roasted malt and a licorice-like flavor blended with bittersweet chocolate.

Rogue's Shakespeare Stout:
Inky with a fat brown head, Shakespeare tastes like mocha coffee reimagined as beer.

Sierra Nevada Stout:
This affordable, widely available stout doesn't disappoint, providing a creamy body with roasted bitterness and a little hint of hops.

• The craft beer hype has brought stout beer into the mainstream -- but the public's perception of it as purely "stout" is inaccurate.
• Playwright humorist Paul Rudnick disproves parents everywhere in his new book, "I Shudder," by living 51 years subsisting mainly on candy -- and sveltely, at that. "What I love about Halloween is its childhood honesty," he says. "It's about what children want rather than what parents want them to want."
• A touching story on the "softening" of chef Thomas Keller preceding his last meal with his once-estranged father.
• Tater tots and Tecates have started to replace caviar and Chardonnay as foodie first dates take a more casual, adventurous note.
• Prompted by a resourceful reader in Beijing, a New York Times writer matches Italian wine with Chinese fare In a pairing fit to make Marco Polo proud.
• After ruinous delays for restaurateurs, the liquor license process has been streamlined by the new New York State Liquor Authority chairman, David Rosen.
• Restaurants: Flushing, Queens' Imperial Palace is "at the zenith of Cantonese cooking in New York City;" Green Apple BBQ in East Harlem proffers a Mexican influence on Southern cuisine; Brooklyn's Rocky Sullivan's in Red Hook tackles steamed lobster, successfully.
• Openings and closings; plus Dining Calendar -- highlights include Day of the Dead workshops, a pumpkin dinner and a meal in memory of Sheila Lukins of the Silver Palate.