Global Greenie

This weekend is the return of the North American Organic Brewers Festival.  You’ll recall that I attended two days last year.  It’s free to get in, but if you want to buy the compostable tasting glass, you can take $1 off the $6 fee by either showing your validated Max ticket or by donating three canned goods (organic please).  This is the stop you’ll want to use for the Max.  If you’re in Portland and you’d like to meet up with me and some other friends, check my Facebook page over the next couple of days.  I’ll post my cell number in my status when I’m at the fest.  Give me a call — I’d love to meet you.

North American Organic Brewers Festival, 2008 from Alison Grayson on Vimeo.

I was chatting with Andy from Rooftop Brew the other morning and told him my hop plant was covered with aphids this year. Turns out he had just released some ladybugs on his plant. Mine is swarming with larvae that arrived by themselves (well, probably with help from a mom who laid the eggs). If you’ve never known what ladybug babies look like, I got a few good shots. Andy describes them as alligator-like.

This morning I popped outside to check on their progress as they devour the aphids and noticed two unusual ones. I think they’re albino.  Here’s one of ‘em, along with a “larva of color” in the background.

Did you miss part 1?

For $5, you get a cup, which is plastic-like and reusable for all of your tastes.  The cup’s made of cornstarch and as you can see in the photo, it’s 100% compostible.

NAOBF takes place in Overlook Park on the Willamette.  I don’t know if it’s because of the location, or the fact that all of the 70+ beers are organic, but this festival attracts a different crowd than the ones in downtown Portland.  Think giant frat party downtown.  Think mellow families for organic.

Tony C., Hsin-Yi, and I watched an (all white?) hip hop band on Friday and the highlight was a 12-year old rapper they brought up for a song.  She’s got a future.  To be polite, I’ll avoid mention of the bands that played on Sunday.

Eventually we located my coworker and friend, Erin, and her partner, Jade*, and we called some other friends floating around the fest to divulge the sweet location we’d scoped on the lawn.  Andy* joined us, as did Joe**, Lindsay, and random friends and coworkers who’d float in and out of the circle.

The highlight on Friday, beerwise, was Alameda’s IPA.  Not only were the pours generous (above the green line on the cup), but the beer had a perfectly refreshing hoppiness.  I confess that I sampled that one several times.  I also tasted an organic malt liquor and some other light beers.

On Sunday, my wife and I returned to the festival.  I’m ashamed to say I’d already composted my first cup, so  I had to buy a second.  The nice thing is that I got a dollar off because I showed my MAX ticket — evidence we’d arrived by public transit.  Anyway, supporting the festival helps a number of good causes.

This time we ran into coworker, Mike, and our friend Laurie, who always has an entourage of other friends.  We ended up with a table near the stage and about nine people sipping.  This time I snagged an Alameda again, but sampled a few heavier tastes as well: porters, stouts, and a Belgian.

It sprinkled a little, but since Portland had hit 100, it was pretty refreshing, just like the organic beers.  I’ll see you at the festival next year!

—

*homebrewer

**professional brewer

The NAOBF took place in Overlook Park in Portland last weekend.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to work Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, so I managed to support green brewing on two of the three days.  Friday, my  neighbors Tony C. and Hsin-Yi and I hopped on our bikes to pedal to the park.  We should have used the interactive bike map for Portland, OR (also Milwaukie, WI) to plan our route because we dead-ended into a sound buffer wall and Interstate 5 in between us and the park.

Luckily, some neighborhood porch sitters told us we were two blocks from the Failing Pedestrian Bridge.  I know — that’s not the best name for a bridge — it’s named for a person, not what’s going to happen to you.  I don’t think I’ve ever ridden my bike over a freeway.  I looked down at the usual Friday rush hour traffic, stopped as commuters travel to their suburban homes in Washington state, a few very slow miles away.

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