A discussion on Twitter among beer writers today reminded me of a tableau, or so it is in my mind, in Plattsburgh, New York, late 70s probably.
I was buying, in a small store on a corner, beer from a cooler and chocolate. The candy was definitely M&Ms, a chocolate bar not available at the time in Montreal.
The beer may have been Genesee Cream Ale, made in Rochester elsewhere in upstate New York. But I think it was Michelob.
I said to the clerk: “two fine tastes”. She agreed but added, “But one after the other and man …”, making a gesture with both hands away from the midsection.
So it is with two good things, or a surfeit of anything (culinary) in succession. A wealth of calories. Too much, usually, for most.
Whether literally to pair them is a matter of preference. For me, after a few decades of experience, beer is best served, usually, on its own. Maybe have cracker or some cheese. hallowed exceptions: a burger, fries, pizza, wings. And yes, a Belgian dish or two, e.g. carbonnade).
It’s also a question of metabolism and age, frankly.
Plattsburgh at that time had talismanic significance for us in Quebec, for young Beer et Seq anyway. It was a way to experience the United States yet arrive back even the same day. They had McDonald’s, Burger King, and regional chains like Lums. If you haven’t had a Lumburger you haven’t lived. Its Ollieburger, with its own interesting history, was the prize jewel in the range.
And a frosty “schooner” of Schaefer lager, Genny, Piels, etc. went well with an Ollieburger, surfeit or no. You’ll have to take my word for it.
When I think of Plattsburgh, a small ,upstate border town, I think mostly of icy air – often we went in winter. It was easier to cross the border then, and we had more time. The summer was busy with cottage life, or summer camp, or first overseas trips.
It was music at local clubs, first taste of bourbon, and American cigarettes. The distinctive odour (odor) of Camels, Phillip Morris, Parliament (oddly), and Kents – with the Micronite filter – lingers with me to this day.
In memory only, of course.