Saturday’s ad is for the Frank Fehr Brewing Co., from 1950. The Louisville, Kentucky brewery is advertising their Fehr’s XL Beer as a pairing with ribs. The ribs are laid out on a red and white checkerboard tablecloth with bread and a bowl of sauce. I’m not sure about the horseshoe handles on the baskets, which make it look like a yee-haw sort of restaurant, but if the food is tasty, then why not.
Archives for June 2018
Friday’s ad is for the Frank Fehr Brewing Co., from 1950. The Louisville, Kentucky brewery is advertising their Fehr’s XL Beer as a pairing with Boston baked beans and bacon. I think is well before the days when advertising agencies hired professional food stylists to make the food look perfect, and as appetizing as possible. And while they’re still using their tagline, “It’s Al-ways Fehr Weather,” I confess I don’t understand why there’s a hyphen in always.
Thursday’s ad is for the Frank Fehr Brewing Co., from 1951. The Louisville, Kentucky brewery is advertising their Fehr’s XL Beer as a pairing with fish. I do love how they’ve cut the lemons on the fish so they look like flowers, that’s a nice touch. I’m not sure about the sides, though, which seem to include lima beans and what I think are some sad-looking French fries. They’re getting a lot of mileage out of their tagline. “It’s Always Fehr Weather.”
Wednesday’s ad is for the Frank Fehr Brewing Co., from 1951. The Louisville, Kentucky brewery is advertising their Fehr’s XL Beer as a pairing with food, although that is one seriously scary looking dish. What the hell is that thing? Is it a slap of meat in Jell-O. I see a bone, I think? And what’s on top, it may be rice but could just as easily be something far worse. Sheesh!
This is from Stan Hieronymus’ recent article, Traditional Hefeweizen: Worth the Trouble?
Here’s his full explanation of the month’s topic:
I would like to clarify for myself the similarities and dissimilarities of weissbeers, kristall weizen, weizen, hefeweizen, etc. I’d love to read about the distinctions all you brewers and beer researchers know about regarding the various “styles” of weissbeer, experiences in brewing and drinking the beer, it’s history. Yeah, whatever you’d like to say about German wheat beers will be great.
To participate in the July Session, simply post a link to your session post by commenting at the original announcement on or before Friday, July 6.
Monday’s ad is for Knickerbocker Beer, from 1954. This is number 5 in a series by the Jacob Ruppert Brewing Co. The fifth one shows the “Christening Of Kip’s Bay,” illustrated by Lumen Martin Winter. It depicts the story of an incident during the Revolutionary War, with text by author Washington Irving. “Kips Bay was an inlet of the East River running from what is now 32nd Street to 37th Street.” According to Wikipedia:
Kips Bay was the site of the Landing at Kip’s Bay (September 15, 1776), an episode of the American Revolutionary War and part of the New York and New Jersey campaign. About 4,000 British Army troops under General William Howe landed at Kips Bay on September 15, 1776, near what is now the foot of East 33rd Street. Howe’s forces defeated about 500 American militiamen commanded by Colonel William Douglas. The American forces immediately retreated and the British occupied New York City soon afterward.
Sunday’s ad is for Knickerbocker Beer, from 1954. This is number 4 in a series by the Jacob Ruppert Brewing Co. The fourth one shows when “Dutch Weight,” illustrated by Lumen Martin Winter. It depicts a rather weird story of Native Americans being cheated by Dutch traders, with text by author Washington Irving.
Saturday’s ad is for Knickerbocker Beer, from 1954. This is number 3 in a series by the Jacob Ruppert Brewing Co. The third one shows when “Dutch Landing at Communipaw,” illustrated by Lumen Martin Winter. It depicts a rather weird story of Native Americans committing suicide after hearing a trumpet, with text by author Washington Irving.
So this post will be chiefly for the literary, and especially poetry lovers, among you, a small subset of beer lovers who also enjoy art. Visual poetry is “a development of concrete poetry but with the characteristics of intermedia in which non-representational language and visual elements predominate. In other words, it was experimental or avant-garde poetry in which the arrangement of the text also was a part of the poem’s meaning, which was communicated both visually and through the text itself.
Two Mexican poets in the 1920s, José D. Frias and José María González de Mendoza were both expatriates living in France and became friends, later exchanging humorous letters between themselves and their literary friends. Today is Mendoza’s birthday, which is what reminded me of this.
In 1923, the pair wrote a letter from Paris to fellow poet Francisco Orozco Muñoz that included four visual poems. They were based on the work of French poet Guillaume Apollinaire, who a few years before wrote a book of visual poetry entitled Calligrammes: Poems of Peace and War 1913-1916. They also were influenced by Japanese Haiku, which had become popular at the time in their literary circles, as opposed to Apollinaire’s more cubist or l’esprit nouveau poetry.
Three of the visual poems were written by Frias and translated visually by Mendoza. But the fourth poem was done entirely by Mendoza, and it’s the one below. All four poems contain witty references to the fact that Muñoz was living in Brussels.
The text is in the shape of a mug of beer, sitting on a table, and reads, according to several books on visual poetry, “Let’s Have a Beer” followed by “The Sun Has Already Set in Flanders.”