best vegan beer bread + that one time I had my car searched

In 2007, I took a solo trip further into the midwest to run the Chicago Marathon. Truth be told, running a big name race in a big name city had far less appeal to me than running a race in a part of the country with interesting veg food and a good beer selection. I mean, the race itself was fun, of course, but when I register for an event, I do so knowing that it’s going to be about so much more than putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, it’s profound (a wicked mountain race at which those wicked steep climbs are a perfectly clichéd metaphor for life), and sometimes it’s easy fun (a fast, flat marathon that shows you the city and then replenishes you with bafflingly good food and beer). This race was definitely about easy fun. As usual, though, I digress…. The race isn’t really the story. Neither is the insane food I had at Chicago Diner. The story is the drive home.

It should be noted that in an effort to save wear and tear on my newish Jetta, I rented a car for this trip. It should also be noted that I promised one of my employees a variety of Belgian beers that we couldn’t get in Oklahoma. And one more little note that will make sense later: I purchased said beers (plus a solid supply for myself) at a World Market, where I also found the tiniest little jar of English clotted cream that I decided another friend (an Englishman turned Okie) needed. And onward I go… Quite literally. Rental car loaded with running gear, English treats, and a metric fuck ton of beer, I start back to my little corner of the world. This was before blue tooth in cars and smart phones, so I’m rolling along listening to a book on tape and obsessively checking the map quest printout to make sure I was on path. It was either a CD switch or a neurotic map glance that caused me to miss the sign indicating the speed reduction. It was my pure post-race, pre-I’m-going-to-toast-with-friends-with-good-beer bliss that caused me to miss the cop car - the one that followed me or two miles, lights flashing in my rear view mirror. The one who had to announce his presence and tell me to pull over with his megaphone (is that what those things are called??) because I was completely oblivious. My eyes dart to the rear view mirror. Shit. He means me. I immediately start nervous-shaking as I pull to the shoulder. The conversation goes like this:

Cop #1 (oh yes, there are two): Ma’am, is this car yours?
Me: No, it’s not. long pause as I see his eyes narrow
Me again (with a shaky voice): But it’s okay. I’m allowed to drive it. I rented it.
Cop #1: Let me see the rental agreement.
Me (still shaky): Okay.
Cop #1: Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?
Me (now shaky and rambling): I really don’t. I don’t have a tendency to speed. I mean, I did when I first learned to drive and even my first couple years of college, but then I learned my lesson, so I really don’t. I’m sorry. (like I said, I was nervous)
Cop #1 (as he glances in my back seat): Is everything in this car yours?
Me (rambling more): Yes. Well, not everything. I have some Belgian beers for one of my employees and a couple of stouts that I think another friend will love and some clotted cream for my friend who’s from England who is really missing his home and his family and I saw it and had to buy it. Stop talking and take a breath, Adi.
Cop #1: Do you mind stepping out so I can search your car?
Me: Um, okay.

He points me to his car, where I stand next to cop number two. He’s a young guy, and I can see that he’s there in training. I whisper to him, “What is he looking for?” “Oh, drugs and large sums of money,” he says, and I immediately start laughing. After a thorough search of my rental, including a complete rearrangement of the trunk, he gives me a verbal warning to pay better attention and sends me on my way.

Fast forward eleven years, and I still have quite a few of those beers left. Some were purposely aged, but others have been living with me simply because my tastes have changed, and I just haven’t been interested in drinking them. Anyhoo…. one morning, I was in one of my “I’m so tired of ______ just taking up space” moods, so I decided that some experimentation was in order. And with that, I bring you this perfectly simple and delicious vegan beer bread.

classic beer bread
makes one loaf

3 cups unbleached flour or white whole wheat flour
1 Tbs baking powder
1 tsp fine sea salt
1 12 oz beer*
2-4 Tbs agave or honey, depending on taste
4 Tbs vegan butter, melted, divided

1) Preheat your oven to 375˚ and spray a 9x5 inch loaf pan with non-stick spray.
2) In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, and sea salt.
3) Stir in the beer, sweetener, and 2 tablespoons of the melted butter, just until incorporated.
4) Spoon the beer bread batter into the prepared loaf pan, and pour the remaining melted butter on top.

classic vegan beer bread — buttered beer bread batter

because alliteration is cool

5) Bake at 375˚ for 40-50 minutes, or until it passes the toothpick test. It takes about 42 minutes in my oven, but I’d encourage you to begin checking at 40 minutes.
6) Let cool for ten minutes before removing from the pan. Slice with a serrated knife, and enjoy!

bread & sage butter

because bread & butter is as classic as Sonny & Cher

note: Be sure to verify that your beer is vegan, if that is important to you. Check out Barinvore for a pretty solid list.

classic beer bread
makes one loaf

3 cups unbleached flour or white whole wheat flour
1 Tbs baking powder
1 tsp fine sea salt
1 12 oz beer*
2-4 Tbs agave or honey, depending on taste
4 Tbs vegan butter, melted, divided

1) Preheat your oven to 375˚ and spray a 9x5 inch loaf pan with non-stick spray.
2) In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, and sea salt.
3) Stir in the beer, sweetener, and 2 tablespoons of the melted butter, just until incorporated.
4) Spoon the beer bread batter into the prepared loaf pan, and pour the remaining melted butter on top.
5) Bake at 375˚ for 40-50 minutes, or until it passes the toothpick test. It takes about 42 minutes in my oven, but I’d encourage you to begin checking at 40 minutes.
6) Let cool for ten minutes before removing from the pan. Slice with a serrated knife, and enjoy!

note: Be sure to verify that your beer is vegan, if that is important to you. Check out Barnivore for a pretty solid list..