“Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” – Benjamin Franklin

“Bread is the king of the table and all else is merely the court that surrounds the king” – Louis Bromfield

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There are some things in life that are awesome.  Beer is awesome.  Bread is awesome.  Beer Bread is awesome x awesome.  Therefore, Beer Bread is the most awesome thing in the universe.  It is cooler than Miles Davis & George Clooney combined.  It is more intense than fighting kung fu bears armed with knives.  It is more inspiring than Steven Hawking reading a Maya Angelou poem.

In case you can’t tell, we’re big fans of yeast and what happens when you combine it with grain.  We’ve found some people who feel the same way down I-10 in Convington, Louisiana.  Henryk Orlik is the Brewmaster at Heiner Brau brewery.  He makes some fantastic beers and we’re honored to multiply our bread by awesome with the inclusion of his beer in it!

Henryk & the MacFadyen Clan at Heiner Brau Brewery.
Please excuse the Notre Dame sweatshirt.

Here’s the writeup on the Heiner Brau Maerzen that we’re using in our Gouda Beer Bread:  It means "March" in German.  Monks used to call it "Das Fluessige Brot," or "Liquid Bread."  Maerzen is a unique, fresh, and partially filtered dark brown, Bavarian lager that has a malty “bread taste” flavor.  It is well balanced with a fresh hop finish.  What Henryk also mentioned to J.P. is that this is the beer that was traditionally consumed during the fasting days of Lent, hence the monks calling it Liquid Bread.

We start with our Non-GMO, stone-ground whole wheat flour that we mill every day.  We combine it with Baker’s Yeast, Acadiana Wildflower Honey, Salt, and Heiner Brau Maerzen.  At the last minute on the mixer, we drop in chunks of Smoked Gouda.  We knead it with care, top it with Kosher Salt, and bake it to perfection.  It’s like having a pint of beer alongside pretzels dipped in cheese!

It is scientifically impossible to look more awesome than this.

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Gouda Beer Bread is available Wednesdays and Fridays during Lent.

G. Harvest was a man who experienced more in one month than most men experience in one decade.  His adventures inspire the breads that we make.  Here’s the story behind our Challah.

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My friends who work offshore describe the same sort of cabin fever that I started to experience on that boat- where the highlight of a day is the meal.  I don’t know for certain that I had it worse than a roughneck but I had no job to do on the boat, so I spent a lot of time walking the perimeter of the ship or staring out at the sea.  By the time we landed in Israel and I went through customs (that is another story altogether: you have no idea how difficult it is to explain to an Immigration & Customs Agent that you’re a smuggled tourist) I was ready to spend every dime I had on anything that would restore my dulled senses.

I was so full of energy that I didn’t sleep the first night I was in Haifa.  I walked and walked and walked, glad to be on land and not hemmed in by the ocean.  I was propositioned lots of times by drug dealers and women.  Thankfully, I could tell them I don’t speak English en Français so they all left me alone.  As morning’s hews began to color the sky, I started smelling the familiar smell of baking bread.  I followed my nose to a glass storefront filled with so many familiar types of bread, rolls, and sweets.  My hunger settled on a type of bread that I didn’t recognize.  It was a braided rope, washed in egg so that it had a glorious brown shine to its surface.  It called to me in the culinary language that a foodie understands.  If this sounds strange to your ears, I feel so sorry for you.

I waited outside the bakery until they opened until they opened and bought one of those gorgeous loaves.  It was called Challah and as soon as I tasted it I knew I was going to have to make it when I worked in a bakery again.  It had a mild sweetness to it and the mouthfeel was pillowy on my tongue until the bite melted away into a satisfied swallow.  I couldn’t wait to have one back in America and sop up gumbo juices with it or make a grilled cheese on it.  I ate the entire loaf on the curb outside of the store, watching the workers braid more. 

I just had to learn the recipe.

I walked back in and asked for the owner.  He spoke a little English and let me know three things: (1) he wouldn’t give me the recipe, (2) he wouldn’t sell me the recipe for any price, and (3) I needed to “get hell out store”.  Before I left I noticed that one man in the kitchen made eye contact with me for an extended period of time and nodded towards the back door.  I made my way there and five minutes later had a price for the recipe.  I wish I could say that I told him no.  I can’t.  I cashed one of my Traveler’s Checks and bought the family’s Challah recipe for 200 shekels.  I learned a life lesson that day: There is almost always a way to get what you want and money helps create easier ways.

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Our Challah is available on Tuesdays and Fridays throughout Lent.

Dear employees, owners, suppliers, and customers of Great Harvest Bread Company, Lafayette, Indiana:

A world of pain is about to descend upon your precious Colts.   Our beloved Saints are in the business of destroying heralded quarterbacks: Favre and Warner lay in a crumpled pile and our underestimated defense now has Peyton Manning in their sights.  A. World. Of. Pain.

With the Superbowl coming up, we wanted to remind you of the following reasons why (1) Lafayette, Louisiana is superior to Lafayette, Indiana and (2) why The Saints are superior to the Colts:

• Lafayette is a French name… we actually parler a little Français down here.
• We’re making King Cakes right now.  Do you even know what Mardi Gras is?  It’s so awesome that the 4^th of July is a tame holiday by comparison.
• Do you remember that scene in Wayne’s World when they are in Delaware and there’s nothing to talk about and they’re totally bored?  That’s Indiana, too.

Now, about those Saints…

• Our mascot is the almighty Heavenly Host.   Yours?  A small horse.
• Symbolically, Black and Gold symbolize Strength and Power, Elegance and Royalty.  Your colors? Innocence and Water, Helpfulness and the Sky.
• You know who’s pulling for Indy outside of your state?  Archie Manning.  That’s it.  We’ve got the rest of the nation.

In closing, we rock and you don’t.

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Jerry Lecy commented on 03-Feb-2010 11:34 AM

It is so tempting to talk smack with those who boast, but we will instead choose to talk about so many other wonderful things about your community and the surprise appearance of the Saints in this year’s Super Bowl! We are so happy the fans who have suffered through so many awful football seasons (though at times the game was hardly recognizable) can celebrate a great season with a winning football team. This is your ninth winning campaign in team history, a very nice accomplishment (of course we have had more than that in the last decade alone – have I mentioned our two Super Bowl rings?). We cannot say enough for the wisdom of your GM and coach to choose none other than a Purdue (Lafayette, IN) boy to captain your football ship. We have had our eyes on your town for some time. You might already know that our quarterback grew up down in your part of the Pelican state. He often speaks of your fair community. We watched in horror as the winds of Katrina dismantled much of your region. Hundreds of Hoosiers were eager to come and lend a neighborly hand to assist you in recovering from the ravages of that foul wind, with Peyton in the lead. We are glad that you are well on the mend. You just can’t beat that Hoosier Hospitality! The Hoosier "can do" spirit has made itself apparent for quite some time now, particularly through the community and fine institution that is often the focal point of our fair city. Purdue University has been a leader in Agriculture, Engineering, Space, Technology and Management to name a few. More astronauts have come from Purdue than any other non-military academy in the country. More engineering degrees have been earned at Purdue than any other school and this land grant school has been a pioneer in Agriculture for decades. From this perspective alone, it is clear to see that we here in Lafayette, IN have our feet on the ground and our eyes pointed to the stars. The work of the various Krewes and Carnivals at Mardi Gras is legendary. The celebration and festivity is known worldwide. One must tip their hat to a group or team that demonstrates excellence in their field. I find it ironic that arguably the person who knows your team the best is choosing instead to root for the Colts, does he know something that the rest of you will find out Sunday night? As day turns to night and then to early morning, the sun will set on your Super Bowl aspiration. Do take heart that your undoing will come at the hands of the progeny of the Saints favorite son. I was wondering if you would be willing to send a Krewes or two that could help us perfect our parade to celebrate our win after the Super Bowl? Sincerely, Jerry Lecy, owner Great Harvest Bread Co. Lafayette, IN

Dallas Begnaud commented on 05-Feb-2010 09:15 AM

Jerry, Nice I'm-taking-the-High-Road-but-really-this-is-the-Low-Road reply. Here's what will happen to the Colts this Sunday: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkwYuT0hA_8

jeanne-marie commented on 17-Feb-2010 05:13 PM

Hey Jerry...how'd y'all celebrate that win after the superbowl hmmmmm? We read that about 11 of you Can-Do Hoosiers showed up to support your team. Pretty lame, Jerry. Pretty darn lame. GO SAINTS!

As lifelong Saints fans, this is totally uncharted territory for us: the team we’ve rooted for is finally playing in the biggest football game there is!  We’re lightheaded with excitement and one of our bakers, Brandi Gayneaux, came up this confectionary delight in honor of New Orleans playing in the big game in Miami.

J.P.’s uncle is a philosophy and ethics professor at University of Southern Maine.  He writes poetry "on the side" as he puts it.  A few years back he decided he needed to learn Spanish and started going to Mexico on a regular basis... especially in the winters to escape the biting cold of Maine.  He recently sent J.P. this poem and we had to share it with you.  "Pan" is bread in Spanish, in case you haven't watched Dora the Explorer lately.

“Hey pan!”
In the early evening of the winter dark
Under the stars the secular culture’s muzzin
Welcomes the faithful home
With the ancient call of bread
“Hey pan!”
The call of home in Cuernavaca
Outside
Huddled neighbors with flashlights
Bow before the trunk of the old Chevvy
We thrive on a simple display of peddler’s bread
Pretty feast of baked air
There I perform my daily rite
Greet Roderigo
Ask for the children
Laugh with friends
Choose my bread
Pay the few pesos
Say good night
Buenas noches
Gracias…hasta mañana…
“Hey pan!”
“Hey pan!”
The day is ending in its usual peace
“Hey pan!”
Life goes on
Buy our bread
We’ll come back again tomorrow
“Hey pan!”
Flour and yeast and salt and water mixed
Punched down
Rising living dough
Ovened to a crisp golden brown
For you for me
“Hey pan!”
May you
May all of you taste the quiet beauty
The sustaining peace of this bread
“Hey pan!”
May it nurture you

I receive a shipment from a company based in New Orleans every Thursday.  We always talk Saints football.  We talk about whether Reggie Bush should be traded (No!  Every game in which he has over 100 all-purpose yards, the Saints win.  Just stop thinking of him as a Running Back.), why all the secondary players keep getting hurt, etc.  We talk passionately and I can tell from the surprise in the delivery guys’ eyes that they can’t believe Cajuns are just as passionate about the New Orleans Saints as people on that side of the Atchafalaya Basin are.

Actually, we might have them beat.

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Darla commented on 27-Jan-2010 10:27 AM

Thanks so much for this, I have been wanting to try your king cakes for over a year now, and I am finally getting to tomorrow. We live an hour and a half away so it is impossible to get one. I have a family member going that way finally! But, now that I see this, I will be making a trip for sure to get some for the SUPER BOWL!

Kayla commented on 27-Jan-2010 02:28 PM

Sooooo very Exciting!!!!

G. Harvest was a man who experienced more in one month than most men experience in one decade.  His adventures inspire the breads that we make.  Here’s the story behind our Harvest King Cake.

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On my first trip around the world I took an extended stay in China at the Beijing City Central International Youth Hotel.  It is a mouthful to say and the name is longer than the rooms are wide but the price was low.  China is so different from America and I was determined to stay in Beijing long enough to understand what made these wonderful people tick. 

In order to fund my stay I took a job in a Western bar in the trendy Chao Yang district.  My Chinese coworkers hated me.  They gave me a Chinese name which I later learned was a great insult –“turtle egg” – but because the American owner liked me they had to put up with me.  I cooked, tended bar, washed dishes, and waited tables… often all on the same night.

Things were slow on nights that we didn’t have foreign bands coming in but on the nights that we did have them, I made enough money to cover my hostel bed with just enough left over to go out drinking with the bands after we all got done for the evening.  I heard more EuroPop than I care to ever hear again.  I listened to punk bands from America that sang with fake British accents until the thought of ripping my ears off of my head to stop listening seemed logical.  Occasionally the music was great.  Once, it made me cry.

There was one night, near Chinese New Year, that I showed up for work and saw an accordion and fiddle on stage alongside the usual bass, drums, and guitar.  I expected some kind of Neo-Polish rock band or maybe some Romanian gypsies.  Two hours later I was pouring drinks at the bar when the show started.  The singer said “Bonjour!  We’re Tico Comeaux and the Sheetrock Floaters from Louisiana!”  I stood there as the first song started, a classic Louisiana Two Step, and wept.  It was the first time I’d heard a Cajun accent in months.  Until that moment I didn’t realize how much I missed home.  They played all the songs I’d danced to at wedding receptions and High School parties. 

After the show ended I went back to Tico’s hotel and we passed a good time until the sun came up.  The conversation kept coming back to Mardi Gras, which was only two days away.  Tico’s band was playing at the bar again that night and I decided to do something special for them.  I made a decadent King Cake with cream cheese in the dough, fruit incorporated throughout, and a splash of nutmeg.  The icing was timelessly simple: water, powdered sugar, and vanilla.

When I presented them the King Cake, they held the platter as gently as I’ve seen mothers hold a newborn child.  Every bite we took was savored.  There wasn’t a word spoken in the green room until every slice eaten.  No King Cake has ever tasted that good before and I’m not sure than one ever will again.

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Our Harvest King Cake is available every day we’re open until Mardi Gras.