NEWS: Scott Ian's Food Coma: GetchaÂ’ Pull!

CULTURE: Scott Ian's Food Coma: Getcha’ Pull!

ItÂ’s 12:30 AM Friday morning July 18 and I find myself in Gelsenkirchen, Germany.

Gelsenkirchen.

Home ofÂ… um, home of nothing that I know of and IÂ’m too lazy to Google it. Take my word for it, itÂ’s quiet. Even the pub in the hotel was dead except for the one drunk guy that stared at us for a minute and then burped AT us. Seriously, he burped at us like he was throwing something at us. Then he grabbed the waitressÂ’s ass and yelled a lot.

Still, itÂ’s very quiet here; too quiet after the raucous insanity that was Sligo, Ireland.

If youÂ’ve ever read this column before then you probably know I have an affinity for the black stuff. A pint of Guinness in Ireland is as close to perfection on earth as it gets. It canÂ’t be done better. It canÂ’t be improved upon. The only anomalies are the temperature (sometimes it can be too cold) and the pour (most places donÂ’t do it right). A proper pour is to fill the glass about three quarters of the way and then let it settle (when itÂ’s solid black with a creamy head) and then fill the rest of the way slowly so the head just makes a slight dome over the top edge of the glass. It should take about two minutes. Then it takes another minute to settle. As far as I have experienced, the two anomalies I mentioned donÂ’t exist in Ireland.

My first proper Guinness was in 1986 at the Gresham Hotel in Dublin. I went straight to the bar with my bags and ordered from the barman. I didn’t know anything about pouring Guinness then so when he stopped pouring three quarters of the way I thought he was fucking with me, the stupid American. I waited a minute and then ignorantly asked him if there was a problem with the tap and he said, “Sonny, a proper pour takes at least two minutes.” He wasn’t being condescending, and I didn’t take it that way. I sat there all afternoon and drank, probably over compensating for my faux pas and to this day I go have a Guinness at the Gresham every time I am in Dublin.

I had been looking forward to two days off in Dublin since we got these Pearl tour dates supporting Meat Loaf. Days off are like precious stones and to have two days in Dublin is like winning the lottery. The plan was we would stay in Sligo for the show in Bundoran, which is on the west coast and then drive to Dublin to spend two days bowing to the Phil Lynott statue outside the Bruxelles Pub, Guinness in hand. Ah, the best laid plansÂ…

The show in Bundoran got postponed a day due to technical problems with the tent/stage. Basically the whole thing was gonna come crashing down and the promoter needed another day to get it right. The weather was fierce, raining sideways and this circus tent was not going to hold up. They were also going to try and squeeze 6000 people into a space that maybe held 3000. The whole thing was a mess and on top of it we lost our days in Dublin. Wah, wah. Cry for me; itÂ’s such a sad story.

IÂ’m not one to dwell on the negative and it was my first time on the west coast of Ireland so Sligo it was!! The Guinness fight had begun.

We ended up spending three nights in the hotel bar, each night progressively better (or worse) drinking the black stuff. It was a 72-hour cacophony of Guinness and whisky (Powers and Jameson Black Tooth Grins!) and bad singing and swords and metal and fish and chips and more Guinness.

When I woke up today to fly to Germany I was in a zone, in some strange yet familiar and friendly place. I felt like I was walking backwards when I was going forwards. Everything was a little out of focus and for a moment everything was right with the world. Maybe it was the sea air of the beautiful west coast, or maybe it was being in such close proximity to the mighty Ben Bulben (itÂ’s a huge mountain/rock with a head like the Juggernaut), or maybe it was from my dinner the night before that had three different kinds of potatoes (mashed, fried and a side of mashed) on the plate, or maybe it was the really drunk and pissed off guy that I drank with who told me his opinions of Americans had changed for the better after spending some time with us, or maybe it was being with friends and sharing it all.

Maybe it was all of that or maybe it was the Guinness.

It is good for you. The ad says so. Truth in advertising is a wonderful thing.

GetchaÂ’ pull!!

Cheers,
Scott




Scott Ian plays guitar for revolutionary metal band Anthrax and also for Pearl.

Artwork credit: Shepard Fairey

No tales of wienerschnitzel, sauerbraten, or apfelkuchen?

Wie schade.

Perhaps you might want to try out this one called Luna Llena, it's real good. Anyway, you have given me the motivation I needed (HA!) to open up my last can of Draught and go get more of them tomorrow. Which will be dealt with as well.

I'm jealous. Guinness is my favorite.

damn bro, my mouth was watering when you were describing that pour. very few bars can pull it off right.

Guess my thoughts on Guinness . . .

Anyway, it really is better in Ireland, for the simple fact that they don't allow it to get warm in transit. It stays cold from the brewers, and doesn't lose any of the flavor. At least that's what the bartender at one of the pubs in Killarney told us. That's why it tastes slightly off in the U.S.

I gotta agree with all of the above, my best Guiness ever served was in Ireland. I was en route to the greater Persian Gulf region and our plane stopped for fuel/supplies in Shannon, Ireland. The whole mess of us Americans piled into the terminal bar, exchanging our dollars for euros so we could hit up some proper stout before reaching the desert.

One of my favorite photos to this day is me in my desert camo, pint in hand, beneath a Guiness advert in Shannon. Perfect experience!

Brilliant!

I don't even like beer, but I'll drink a Guinness any day, or night, or..well...you get the idea.

It's like the original breakfast shake.

see, your a great advertisment for our little country. guinness is good. guinness is great. my first glass of the black stuff ws at my grandfathers wake as a hyper 7 year old. it calmed me down fo the day. have never looked back.

i adore the black stuff.
i recently discovered it tastes especially good with breakfast food.
i was amazed that when i was in Ireland in about ten years ago some bartender still questioned my ordering a full pint. "little lady are you sure you can handle a full pint, why don't you have a half pint?" i just stared at him until he brought me a full pint.

ahahha...nice. That reminds me of a story one of my high school teachers told me. She was in Ireland visiting friends. It was her first trip to Ireland. As is custom here...when someone buys a round of drinks...it's pretty good etiquette to buy a round back.

My teacher went up to the barman and ordered 5 pints of guinness. The bartender looked shocked "Ladies.....", he explained "order one".

She was taken aback....and asnwered "then I'm no lady...and I'll have 5"

nice!
the part of the story i left out is that i wound up having 8 pints just to prove his perceptions wrong. (but it's ok, he grew to love me since i cannot order a drink and not tip, even if that is the norm. )

I'm not a beer drinker, but now I am intrigued.