Thursday, February 24, 2005

The Henda Hexpedition

So it’s my last weekend in India, and I have yet to find any interesting indigenous liquors. So far everything at the bars and at the liquor store is basically stuff I can either get in the US, or it’s just another imported brand of the same stuff – vodka, whiskey, tequila (thankfully)… but nothing strange and unique. I’ve asked around, and most people mention Bacardi rum – well sure, that may be made here, but it’s not exactly what I had in mind. Still further, apparently there is a cashew liquor made and sold in Goa, but it’s very hard to find here (I’m still looking, don’t worry). But what about the “local stuff”, right? Clearly I had to try a new source. Clearly I had to explain that I was ready to put my safety in jeopardy. Clearly I needed to talk to Nagarajan, my super-cool company-assigned ace driver and guide to the streets of Bangalore, with whom I can communicate only every other word, but with whom I always have a great time talking. My point was simple – I needed to find something that included one of two key phrases: “of questionable legality” or “homemade/tribal rite of passage”. After realizing I was clearly crazy, Nagarajan introduced me to both. (he rules)

First we took half a day to venture out to one of the villages, a little further beyond where we normally drive to ITPL. Out there was a coconut tree orchard, where we would be drinking “henda”. “Henda” is Indian for moonshine. Basically you have a grove of coconut trees where the owner has cut off an entire bunch of coconuts at their common stem. He then proceeds to climb up there each evening and cap the stem with a sort of jug. This jug collects all the water from the trunk that would normally create the luscious coconuts, but which can also be conveniently harvested the next morning and stored in a covered, bigger jug, and left to ferment as the day goes on. Get it in the morning and the kick is mild, afternoon a little better, and by evening you’re in for it. We arrived somewhere b/t noon and evening, and already there were folks sitting all around this place with their cups of henda, grinning broadly.

I was sure this was going to violate every rule the doctors gave me, and that I was most likely going to die shortly after drinking this, dying of dysentery in a ditch, with a killer buzz, having gone blind… but hey, Nagarajan was still alive, I’d already suffered several bouts with the local microbes so my immunity was prime, and besides – part of traveling is sampling the local cuisine – so all rationalizations completed, bottoms up! I am still trying to find the words to describe the smell – it wasn’t all that bad – it was just like trying to describe a color no one’s ever seen before. Get past that though and the taste was allright (once I could cease nerve twitching and savor the flavor) kind of a watered-down sweetness, really – with a hint of "plant taste", like the agave in tequila. But what really gets you is the “aftersmell”. Hours later you can smell the gas in the back of your throat somehow, and it’s also the reason (sadly) that you can’t bottle it and take some home – b/c the bottle will explode (that and it’ll apparently taste horrible after one day). So you’ll just have to find yourself a coconut tree and go for it!

As for the other stuff – suffice to say that apparently in India there is a spirit that is deceptively clear, and they store it in little plastic packets that you just open and shoot. The problem is that if you get the kind that’s not regulated by the government, well, it might just kill you – there’s a death toll in the newspapers each year for this – apparently the bathtub gin variety is distilled with all kinds of nasty things, including industrial chemicals and battery acids, to deliver a "good kick". Tequila’s just not good enough here.
Now I’m not all that big on death, and anyway when Nagaraj confessed that even he himself had never dared try the unregulated stuff, I knew that, well… I’d at least have to test it on a guinea pig first. But luckily we found the government-controlled release available near most bars etc, which all the locals assured me packs a kick but is not going to give you cardiac arrest – the safe stuff (safe as compared with lighting your hair on fire I guess). I must cease all discussion at this point to protect the guilty. Please direct your questions to the appropriate avenues. Thank you and good night.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Device I/O Error : (

Well I'd have posted the glowing image of Knock-Out High Punch Strong Beer, but apparently something is either wrong with my camera or with the USB cable, b/c although my card is clearly holding the image, I can't get it to download no matter what I do... I'll see what I can do about fixing this when I get some free time... bummer...

"Knock Out - C'mon! Get up! Get up and see what happens!"


So basically you have to get out to the pubs to get good beer variety - any nice restaurant is just going to carry Kingfisher and Fosters (b/c it's a *nice* restaurant - please see my previous post). I was beginning to feel that my whole mission to explore the beers of India was going to end without finding a real winner. But that's when I found it - something better than a winner - I found a heavyweight champion of the world - I found "Knock Out - High Punch Strong Beer"! Yeeeaaaaaaah! As if that wasn't enough, check out Muhammed Ali on the label - this beer says "C'mon! Get up! I want you to! I AM THE GREATEST!" Even better, my beer was expired by a month - that means I'm was getting skunky KO! - but it's not like I'm gonna say anything - no sir, I'm a contender! I'm going all the way! Unfortunately, just like any title fight, there was a lot of hype - and I was robbed when it came to the decision. This beer threw lots of punches and stayed aggressive, but in the end it didn't score and KO's on me, while I knocked it down in the first round. Summary: Reeks of sweat and tastes tough, but needs some training - but KO's a worthy contender, and I'll gladly accept a rematch.


"Kingfisher - b/c you're supposed to" >yawn< Posted by Hello

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Kingfisher - The Conservative Oasis

Yes, yes, yes Vish - of course I was going to include a post about Kingfisher. Of course I will include a neat, well-composed, politically-correct post, and why? B/c even though this beer is smooth, and even though this beer is tasty, and even though this beer is definitely the Budweiser of India - the real reason I will include the post is b/c I have to. I have to for all the same reasons a Bud is what it is in the States. Because it's just what you expect. Because it's the baseline. It's the 0 on the x-axis. Not too hot, not to cold, not too lumpy, not too big, not too small - custom-fit to the international definition of baseline beer. But that's all - there's no attitude. It's the beer that says "tuck in your shirt and take your hat off when you come inside". It's the beer you'd serve your guests when you don't want them to know you secretly drink moonshine or savor fine wines. Yeah, okay - you got me - it's good - but where's the spin? "Kingfisher - the beer of choice for conservative Indians everywhere."

Friday, February 11, 2005


Jaguar: "How could they do this to me?" Posted by Hello

Jaguar - "Whiney Beer"

When I first laid eyes on Jaguar, I knew this was a tough man's beer. You usually expect any beer sporting a ferocious, ravenous beast on the label to be a little on the rough side... like King Cobra or Schlitz... basically you know it's going to be unrefined panther whiz, but it's something you have to do. It's a rite of passage. And while I was on foreign soil I there was no way I was going to let any local beer taunt me. Well, in my heroic gusto, I missed the small-print epithet: "Winey beer". I know. And I really should have gathered more from that demure, beaten-down look on that jaguar's face... as if he'd once been wild and free, but was now caged, neutered, and waiting to die. His eyes glazed over... a force of nature, broken. I won't get into the traumatizing details of how I popped the top and how my spine shuddered at that rank fruity funk, or how my lips puckered in trepidation as I dared a sip, hoping that somehow it would all be okay... let me sum it up: Jaguar looks like beer, smells like Reunite, and tastes like watered-down champagne. Even has that fizzy aftertaste. It's Boones dressed up like malt liquor. I valiantly washed it down with a dishwater chaser.