Long before I was old enough to be introduced to the mysteries of yeast and asexual reproduction, I learned to bake brown soda bread from my Grandma Hayes. She stood nearly five feet tall, always straight and proud, had red hair and freckles that she hated, and strong, cool arms that I loved. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Grandma also taught me about transformation: creating rich sustenance from the simplest of ingredients. Brown bread always reminds me of Grandma Hayes. A loaf of it requires whole wheat flour, sour milk, soda, a strong stirring arm, and not a whole lot more. A slice provides nourishment and comfort beyond compare.
Thirty-five years after my grandmother’s death, I visited Ireland’s County Cork, a land of rolling green hills and patchwork fields—much like the farmland in southern Iowa where my grandparents settled and I grew up—and was stunned to discover Grandma’s brown bread in nearly every pub and restaurant in Cork. Many of these establishments guarded their recipes for it fiercely; I know, because I asked for it at pubs like the Overdraught, the Armada, and the Spailpin Fanach. They all served brown bread, along with another dark substance I quickly learned to love—beer. And by beer, I mean Guinness and Beamish and Murphy’s.
I drink beer now. Dark beer. A pint at a time, and it needn’t even be cold. My favorite is Murphy’s, a lightweight among dark beers perhaps, but with quite a respectable bite. First I down the head—a dense, creamy layer that tickles my nose and situates itself staunchly on my upper lip, neither dripping nor evaporating like the foamy froth on American beer. Instead, it makes itself quite at home until I dare to wipe it away. Sometimes I do not bother. The brew itself has a quiet silkiness, artfully balanced by a sharp and toasty bite that fills the mouth quenches the soul.
I think I could live on Irish beer and brown bread, so I decided to search out the best. At the Guinness brewery in Dublin I learned how stout is made with barley, hops, water, and yeast. First, the barley is soaked in water, drained, and allowed to germinate. The resulting “malt” is roasted like coffee beans until it turns toasty brown; this gives the brew a rich, distinctive color and flavor. Hops are added for bitterness and aroma; then the concoction is mixed with pure, soft water and boiled. Next comes yeast, a rich source of protein and vitamins. This is where the asexual reproduction comes in. After it is added the brew is held in darkness for several weeks to ferment—the yeast transforming barley sugar into carbon dioxide (carbonation) and alcohol—and so the beer’s flavor can develop and mature.
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