Beer

So there I was, flat on the ground screaming in pain in the middle of Grant Park. It was not my best look.

I’d been doing the post-race shuffle towards bag check, when suddenly my calf buckled with the worst cramp of my life. As I began yelping and draped myself onto a lamp post, a bunch of people swooped in. Cramp? I nodded, eyes closed. Get her some salt. A runner quickly put my finger in a tube of salt and shoved it in my mouth, while a race volunteer stretched out my leg. This is gonna hurt. But hey, free massage! After what seemed like an eternity, the cramp finally subsided, everyone cleared out, and I was left holding an open beer. I was having an AWESOME day.

Hops flowers, a cornerstone ingredient for beer

“I have to start off with a joke, to properly set the tone for this class,” said Mirco Marconi, our lecturer for beer tasting. With a grin, he announced that he would be lecturing on the production process of beer, and that we would be tasting 9 beers today and another 10 beers tomorrow. We were advised to eat a hearty breakfast in the morning.

A cackling rooster call pierced the silence, followed by the sound of quiet laughter. We stood in a courtyard ringed by oppressively institutional gray buildings, and I swiveled my head nervously as a stiff breeze blew through Saluzzo. The giggly presence of two dozen young students had attracted some attention from the residents of this casa di reclusione. In less euphemistic, non-Italian terms, that would be a prison.

“Welcome to the Saluzzo prison,” said our guide, Andrea. “I apologize for the ID screening and metal detector. As you can see, it is very difficult to visit here, but visitors are very important because they provide a window to the outside world. In return, we will now drink.”