Potably in Motion

Now, I didn't move to New York to eat a hot dog in an automat. I came here in order to enjoy the best food the world has to offer, right here and right now! New York is the swirling simmering stew pot of every known cuisine, and I'm lying under it with a funnel in my mouth. I've had Eritrean/Samoan pupusas in Tottenville and Antarctic/Uzbekistani sushi blini in Chelsea, and I must admit that I've been feeling a little jaded lately. Fortunately, there is a growing trend, primarily in the beer world, where the production process occurs while on an expedition, which gives the finished beer value-added travel miles before being shipped to the consumer. The most intrepid of these "gastronauts" are the brewers at BrewDog in Scotland. Here is how they describe the process behind their Atlantic IPA:

"BrewDog has once again blown other beer brands out of the water with the unveiling of the most ambitious brews by any drinks brand in over 200 years - Atlantic IPA.

James was given an 1856 "Brewer's Handbook" as a gift last Christmas which contained an even older original IPA hoppy recipe - which provided inspiration for him to embark on BrewDog's latest voyage of creating waves in an otherwise flat beer market. The following month (January 2009), he set off on a journey on his fishing trawler in the North Atlantic with eight barrels on-board, each containing beer brewed from the original recipe.

After two tempestuous months aging aboard BrewDog founder James Watt's mackerel trawler on the North Atlantic, Atlantic IPA will be the first commercially available, genuine sea-aged IPA in two centuries - a project which is typical of the scale, audacity and boldness characteristic of BrewDog in its quest to take the UK beer industry by storm."

I was so enticed by this travelogue that, as soon as I deposited the check from my dad, I rushed to my local bottle shop and sought out a bottle of Atlantic IPA. Unfortunately, there had been a two-year waiting list for the beer and there was none to be had. There were, however, a few bottles left of Barnum Brewing's Queequog Ale, brewed on Nantucket and aged on a Japanese whaling ship that traced the course of the Pequod, as laid out in Herman Melville's classic Moby Dick, in 2008. The 9 ounce bottle was $140, but if you think that's expensive, how much would a trans-Pacific voyage and a trip in a time machine cost you? As soon as I uncapped the bottle, I was knocked back nearly off my chair by a briny gust of foam. My face was flecked with bits of seaweed and ambergris, and as the swarthy brew descended the gangplank of my tongue with its rolling gait, its gumboots tracked the exotic tang of rancid blubber and stale beer that only the struggle of Man versus Nature could concoct. I must not have my "sea legs" yet, for I got pretty seasick after drinking it. Still, the experience is one more accomplishment for my diary.

For the less adventurous, there is a new mobile brewery cart that travels the streets of Brooklyn-Mobile Foam- which provides the freshest beer in the borough, at random locations. Follow them on Twitter to find out where they are now. The plain white Dodge van is hard to spot, but I noticed it one night parked by a Key Foods dumpster, where the brewer was throwing out his used barley ("helps to reduce our carbon footprint", he explained), and some torn clothing. He offered me samples of Amber Alert, a sparkling amber ale fresh out of the tank, and Barely Lager, a pilsener so young that it was still fermenting. "The younger the better",the brewer, who preferred to remain anonymous, murmured as he screeched off into the night.

One more way to add stamps to your beer's visa is the collaboration ale, whereby all of your favorite brewers meet up as far away as possible and combine their talents to brew a beer that could only be exponentially better than their solo efforts. Last week at Gouty McGillicuddy's on 23rd St. at Third Ave. I tried Bukaki Ale ($15), made in Japan by the brewers from Turtle Head, Rabid Squirrel, Chemical Valley, Gander Hill Prison Brewery, UniBev and Flying Cockroach. Each brewer contributed an ingredient, and the resulting cream ale is a delicious testimony to the creative power of synergy and travel expenses. AMAZING!