Ghost Beer

It began as traditions do, unintentionally, with an ill-defined start date.  The tasting of aged beers over a small (select one as fits your tastes: Christmas, solstice, winter, maybe-we-should-call-it Festivus) party.  Originally I used it as an excuse to raid my own larder, but this year, others brought rarities.  One friend has a batch of Jubel 2000s and gifted one.  I have another friend who, knowing he won't actually be able to leave his own beer alone, gives me some to cellar for him.  And the big treat was a ghost from the past: Roots Epic, vintage 2008 (the fourth in the five-year series--thanks, professor, for the generosity).  Roots died a couple years back and there was no 2010 vintage.  The brewery lives on, for a time, in these last bottles.  (Jason McAdam, one of the two men behind Roots, carries on at Burnside, which is some consolation.)

Epic, you'll recall...

is a truly hand-made beer. The long process begins when [owner] Craig [Nicholls] smokes a small proportion of Munich malt (small by percentage, but 55 pounds in total) over cherry wood that has been soaked in Glenlivet, cognac, and cherries. The final beer finishes out somewhere around 14%.

At first release, Epic is overly sweet.  I once asked Craig when he thought the beer achieved maturity and he guessed five years.  The '08 was just about in its prime then.  If you follow the link above, you'll find my notes on a flight of beers from the release of the last one, in 2009.  I called the '08 the "sweetest of all the vintages."  No more.  The bottle we sampled had become smoky and chocolatey.  There's no point in discussing it in too much depth--you won't be able to get a bottle, anyway.  It was an exceptional treat to end the year, but bittersweet.  Wherever you are, Craig, I hope all is well.

Craig (r) and I from 2009.  More pics here.

 

Roots Organic, 2005 - 2010

More big news, once again broken by John Foyston: Roots is dead, ending a sad final chapter in the story of what was one of my favorite breweries.

[Owner Craig] Nicholls had been trying to sell the pub and brewery for a reported $450,000, but a couple of deals fell through and he said Tuesday that every day the pub stayed open, he went deeper in the hole. He retains all rights to the name and the beers however, and said that it was possible that his beers might still be brewed and bottled and found on grocer's shelves.

More reax later. Now I'm off to Astoria for a couple days.

Hang in there, Craig.

A Few Words About Roots

On Friday, I had the pleasure not only of sampling a five-year vertical flight of Roots Epic Ale, but speaking at length with Craig Nicholls. It's been a long time since I've checked in with Craig, and in the meantime, I've been hearing lots of reports of troubles at the brewery (poor service at the pub, drastically declining tap handles around town, a management change). It was good to finally hear a horse's-mouth report.

Roots was originally founded by Craig and fellow brewer Jason McAdam. They are both great brewers, and my sense of things is that their partnership followed the lines of a rock band. At a certain point, they were pulling in different directions. Craig went into great detail about this period, but since I haven't spoken to Jason, I think it's best to say that the partnership dissolved and leave it at that. Jason moved on (he plans to open up a new brewery called Alchemy) and Roots is all Craig's.

The past two years have been rough financially. The conflict between Jason and Craig happened just as Roots expanded--and just before the economic downturn. The brewery came close to insolvency, it sounds like more once. Fortunately, things have stabilized now. Roots has shifted strategies, focusing more on 22s now, instead of draft sales. Heather and Pale will soon be added to the bottled line-up. Along with increased business at the pub, Roots has apparently weathered the rough times (knock on wood).

So, whew. I didn't realize it had gotten so tight. I'll be heading down more often for a pint, just to make sure the calm weather continues. (Blazer fans take note: as soon as the NFL's regular season ends, Roots will be showing games, and possibly offering that burger and a pint for $10 deal.)

Epic Vertical
Now, the main event. I credit Craig with having the foresight to save some kegs of Epic so we can do these vertical tastings. I'm not sure why other breweries don't do this, too? Wouldn't it be wonderful to do a vertical tasting of 20 years of Old Knucklehead or Old Boardhead? (Yes, that was a hint.) Aged beer is fascinating because not only does it change over time--it becomes more oxidized, the flavors meld and mellow--but it changes unpredictably and unstably. In a single batch, hops may fade away and then come back; flavors and aromas shift and change, vanish and reappear. The character of aged beer is not fixed, and only in vertical tastings do you get a sense of just how mutable things are.

Epic Ale is a truly hand-made beer. The long process begins when Craig smokes a small proportion of Munich malt (small by percentage, but 55 pounds in total) over cherry wood that has been soaked in Glenlivet, cognac, and cherries. The final beer finishes out somewhere around 14%. The beers were so different in the vertical tasting that I wondered if he had changed the recipe. No. (Though of course, barley and hops do change from year to year, so to keep the recipe consistent, he did have to adjust things--all breweries do this, though.) Yet because that smoking process is done by hand, there's definitely going to be variability.

Here are the notes I took on the various vintages, but don't take them too seriously: the next time you taste these beers, they'll taste different.

• 2005 vintage. This was my fave. The most oxidized of the aged beers (two--half--of which exhibited very little at all), it had a rich, plummy nose. The palate is deep and resonant with dark fruit and alcohol, and the finish is wonderfully smooth, almost gentle. Not a sharp edge anywhere.
• 2006 vintage. Only barely oxidized. The nose is roasty and a touch smoky, but the palate has more obvious candied sweetness. There's also the roastiness, which doesn't exactly pair well with the brandy-like sweetness of the malt. The alcohol is sharper and more obvious in this vintage, which warms appreciably going down.
  
• 2007 vintage. Epic is brewed at 80 IBUs, which isn't actually overmuch for a beer of this heft and sweetness. Somehow, though, the hops come through on the '07, to wonderful effect. Also oxidized a bit, but the hops are evident on the nose. They're really obvious on the tongue, and are strangely fresh and green. I don't know why they pair nicely with the sweeter notes of the malt, but perhaps it's because the oxidation creates enough of a bridge. The aftertaste is all sticky resin. No surprise that this was the crowd fave.
• 2008 vintage. The sweetest of all the vintages, but less a fruit than malt sweetness. It had the characteristic barleywine aroma, though doesn't taste like a barleywine. I was getting an insistent cherry flavor along with some pepper. Sally found it too sweet, but I was enjoying it. Give it a few years.
• 2009 vintage. This year's batch was surprisingly mellow. For me, the '09 was the sweetest. It had a melon aroma and flavor that I wasn't so hot on. (Honeydew maybe?) It's hard to know how I would react to this beer straight up, and I'd like to go back and have another pour. These beers are meant to be aged, and compared to the older vintages, this green edition just couldn't stand up.

I'll leave you with a couple of comments from Craig. I asked how long I should let my bottles age, and he suggested 5 years. Not that it won't be good before then, but he'll be aging his for five years. Patience!

Also, as he sat down with a pour of the '09, he admitted he hadn't tasted it before it went on tap that day. "I'm superstitious," he confessed. This is one of the reasons I love Craig. I don't know any brewer who would host a major release for one of the brewery's most important products without trying it first. Craig operates by feel. It's why some people disparage the beers, but it's why others, like me, love them. There are 100 other breweries in the state, and a lot of them do chemical analyses in preparation for their beers' releases. Leave me one guy who still brews like it's 1647.

Roots Epic Release in Pictures

Had a great time last night at the Roots Epic release party. I had the chance to chat with Craig Nicholls for a long time, and I have some news on the brewery, in addition to reflections on vertical tasting. But for now, busy as you all probably are this weekend, all I have time to do is post pics. (Though I should also mention that you might hustle down to the pub and see if there's any of the vintage Epic still on tap. My recommendation: the '05, which is plummy and smooth from age and oxidation, and the '07, which still has a robust layer of green, strangely fresh, sticky hopping. And you can pick up a bottle for the cellar, too.)

That's the '08, '07, and '06, left to right.

The '05 and my bottle (#94).

Craig Nicholls, treated to my characteristically
poor photography

Sally took this one, evidence of why I try
to avoid the buisness end of cameras.

Roots Flanders Red - Or, How Do You Know if It's "Good?"

I come to this review with some trepidation. First because the entire range offered in the traditional Flanders Red style (made famous by Rodenbach) is about six beers, only two of which I've seen in America. Also because Roots has spent more time and money trying to brew a version of this style than they can ever recoup (though do a search on the terms "Flanders Red" and you'll see that they may make it up in advertising), so they don't need me nitpicking. Yet that's why I get paid the big bucks, so here we go.

1. What's the style?
There are a number of sour Belgian styles, and one could easily complain that parsing the difference between a lambic, Flemish Red, and Flanders Brown is--as far as the tongue's concerned, anyway--a pointless game of semantics. In one sense this is true, but you could complain that the difference between pale, amber, and brown English-style ales is really a matter of art, not science--but who in Beervana would sign on to such a crude view?

The "red" ales (Jackson calls them "Flemish Reds," distinct from "Flanders Browns"--aka "oud bruins--though the reds are also made in Flanders and have a lot of brown in them) all take after the ur-red, Rodenbach. Although the brewery pre-existed the style (as did all the Flanders breweries currently producing reds), it probably started to take form with the arrival of Eugene Rodenbach in the 1870s.

The grist of the beer is 80% malt, 20% corn. It is aged for months or years and then blended to produce the standard version of the beer (about 5% abv). The straight aged beer is sold as "Grand Cru" is stronger at 6%. None of the traditional Belgian versions exceed 6.2% alcohol by volume. The beer is aged in massive wooden tanks that are scraped between each batch so there's always new wood to season the beer. Finally and most importantly, the yeast, which has funkified through the generations, contains as many as 20 distinct strains (!), including a range of lactobacilli.

It is these yeasts that dictate much of the character of the beer, which is tart and sharp but not overly dry; even the Grand Cru, which is rather intensely sour, has some residual sugars which allow layers and depths of flavors. It is the sugar that distinguishes the style from lambic; where the latter dry out, sometimes to dust, reds have a wonderful roundness and sweetness. In fact, Rodenbach's cousin, Duchesse de Bourgogne, is quite sweet. The style is referred to as the "Burgandy of Belgium" because of this balance.

2. Roots Flanders Red
So this brings us to Roots' version, which was two years in the making--clearly a labor of love for this wonderful, innovative brewery. I will now roll the tape from an interview Craig Nicholls did on Libation Station (mp3) for a description of the beer:

"We took three-quarters of this beer, that was brewed two years ago, and we threw it on French pinot noir oak barrels and let it sit there for about 11 months. Then we took it and re-blended it with the rest of the beer that had been sitting in tank and went through a secondary fermentation for the last year."

The result is a 9.2% beer that falls fairly far outside the style on a number of dimensions--it's substantially drier, obviously a lot stronger, and the glass I received yesterday had no head (the pic at right is slightly misleading on that score) and was nearly still. But let's leave aside the style consideration--Belgians are not much for style, anyway. The real question is how it tastes.

Sadly, for me the beer was a near miss. As you can see from the picture, it was a bit murky, though the color was nice (to my color-blind eyes, anyway). When cold, the aroma was inhibited--faintly sour with a cherry/fruit note. As it warmed the nose opened up into a cellar-y lactic bouquet, more lambic than red as the fruit fades back.

Flavor: first comes a dry, minerally tartness. There's a strong mid-note, which grew as the beer warmed, of peppery heat. It might be fusel alcohol or some other by-product of yeast action. The beer finally tapers to a bone-dry tartness characteristic of some lambics.

I call it a near miss not because it's out of style (actually "Flanders red" is as good a description as any), but because the final presentation was overly dry; that hot middle not also tends to nuke other, more subtle flavors. In this way it lacks the depth you'd like to see--there's not enough sugar to buoy the heft and acid. My guess is that the beer actually sat too long--months or even a year ago, would some of the remaining residual sugars have brought it into balance?

That said, I hope the Roots men ignore my comments and keep brewing the beer. It took Rodenbach decades to arrive at a system where they had the right number and kind of resident yeasts in their barrels to create what we now think of as the standard of the style. Roots can hardly be expected to hit the mark on the first batch. It takes a great deal of courage to put the time and effort into a beer that may be only 75% where you want it, and then maybe even more courage to keep trying. Still, this is the only way these kinds of wood-aged beers will ever come to be. A brewery has to be willing to invest years and years into the experiment. Here's hoping Roots already has batches two and three sitting in a nice, cool place in the brewery.

Roots Prequel

Confessions first: last night was my anniversary with Sally (our first, most-remembered, pre-marriage anniversary), and despite my intense anticipation for the Flanders Red, I didn't make it to the pub. I intend to stop in for lunch this afternoon, after which I'm off to see what Ron Gansberg is up to. So reviews to come. Fortunately, this was a well-documented affair, and I bring you a couple comments from those who caught the debut.

Beer Around Town
I’m damn impressed, very well built brew, sour, but a very soft acidity. Doesn’t have as strong of a sweetness up front as the Dissident, and not as woody, but a bit more of a tart cherry flavor. I know a few of the other local blogs will have a better review of the evening and some good pictures to go along, so I won’t ramble.

John Foyston
[I]t's a fine eexample...dimensional, you might say; tart; refreshing, with a complex and evolving nose...Okay, you're right...we need Noel Blake to describe this beer in those poetic terms of his...

Matt, from Portlandbeer.org, apparently took photos, so we'll look for those. (In the meantime, look at this post--it shows how the good-natured collegiality of the beer world can be exploited. I'll post on this later--it's instructive and important to discuss.)

More to come--

Fool Me Once

"There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again."
--GWB

Time is not fixed, as anyone who has traveled to India knows. It is set by the Vedas, and moves in syncopation to heartbeat of the universe. Only Vedic priests can mark anniversaries. If a train is scheduled to arrive at 2pm, similarly, this doesn't correspond to Greenwich Mean Time's calculations. Rather it is an obscure moment, the arrival of which can only be known when the train appears, ribbony in heat, on the horizon.

I therefore take it to be true that Craig Nicholls and Jason McAdam set the release of their Flanders Red to Vedic time. Announced months ago, I have twice appeared on earlier, appointed days with a bright smile, only to find a publican shaking her head. This happens in India, too: with a look of pity--the acknowledgement that Westerners always misinterpret Indian time--the trainmaster, say, will shake his head sadly and say, "no, no, the train is not here." No, the brewery said, false alarm.

Here we go again. Roots has now announced the official release of the Flanders Red, slated for tomorrow. I will show, grudgingly, expecting the worst. But who knows? In India, sometimes the trains do show up when you expect them to. They're never so predictable as never being on time. So I will go to the pub on the off-chance that this time my amrita awaits. No doubt you suckers will be there with me.

Flanders Red Release Party
Roots Brewing, 1520 SE 7th
Wednesday, Jan 15

Sorry for the delay in the release of the Flanders Red. But guess what …. It’s here!

Brewed two years ago, 3/4 of this beer spent eleven months of it’s life in neutral Pinot Noir French Oak barrels. It was then re - blended with the remainder of the original Flanders Red that had been cellaring since it’s conception.

After going through a secondary fermentation, we cellared it again for the last eight months. This Belgian beer is extremely smooth with a fruity nose that will leave no senses untouched.

This will be available in limited, one liter bottles and on draft at Roots Organic Brewery exclusively. Only 175, one-liter bottles, $25 apiece.

See you there--

When Aged Beers Are Still Green and Other Minor Discoveries

Although a last minute crap-out is often in the cards when I plan to go to a beer event (introversion, decrepitude, alzheimers--pick one), I did manage to make it to Roots last night. For my troubles I was rewarded with a great bounty: snifters of both '06 and '07 vintages of Epic, three bottles of 2008 Epic ($22/22 ounces or, inexplicably, $45 for 40 ounces--methinks the Roots boys skipped the business class where they taught the "volume discount" lesson*), and an introduction to Bill, the illustrious blogger from It's Pub Night. As a cherry on top, Bill was sporting a fine Honest Pint Project t-shirt. (It with embarrassment that I tried to explain, inadequately, why I wasn't wearing my own.)

But you care about the beer.

As I sniffed and sipped the icy Epics (and tried to warm them with chilled hands), a couple things came to me as snow does, lately, in Portland--softly and tentatively. The first is more an admission than a discovery: with beer as strong as Epic (14%), one travels to a land where the signposts don't mean anything. The aromas and flavors are saturated and dense--beyond the ken of someone with only a good palate. I was picking up notes I didn't recognize and couldn't describe. In the middle of the '06, for example, there seemed to be something toasted, but this made no sense; shouldn't anything toasted be swamped, Tsunami-like, by the liquor and hops and malt alcohol?

Observation two: big beer, more than other styles, has no fixed nature. The constituents wink in and out of expression so that in a vertical tasting, the best years might be dominated by different elements--alcohol here, oxidation there, hops in another one. (A point relevant to the Epics--see below.)

Finally, and this is the most surprising discovery: a one-year old beer can be green. The '07 wasn't quite done yet; its notes were too sharp-edged. You might not have noticed had the '06 not been available--but there it was, creamy, rich, softer, more appropriately stewed. I picked up a bottle for the larder, and I don't plan on cracking it for years--three at a bare minimum, five more likely, and maybe longer. Homebrewers know that you can tell what your beer will taste like when you bottle it. Sure, it's flat, warm, and unfinished, but you get the idea. That's what young Epic is like--halfway done. You don't spend a dollar an ounce on a beer so that your reaction is "I get the idea." Let it sit and you'll experience the idea, not intuit it.

Okay, some notes. We picked up a pour each of the '06 and '07 and tasted them side by side. Both were a very dark brown, but the '06 was murky while the '07 was brighter and had red notes. The '07 had zero head (could have been the pour), while the '06 had a gorgeous, creamy (if quickly-dissipating) frosting. I got more nose off the '06, something like those traditional fruit cakes that are made with liquor--lots of fruit and alcohol. Also a note of wood. The '07 was sweeter and smelled more like straight liquor. On the tongue, the '06 was a lot creamier, while the '07 seemed thinner and more viscous than creamy.

The '06 had a clearly identity in terms of flavor: the malt alcohol came forward while the liquor notes remained that, notes. I got a lot of toffee more than fruit, some roastiness and that toast. The '07 was liquor-forward, sharper and less refined. However, and here's the thing about age, it had a wonderful vanilla middle wholly absent in the '06. My attention went back to it on each sip. I wouldn't say it's worth cracking a bottle of '07 to find this note, but it shows how beers are not fixed entities, but evolutions of flavor and aroma.

____

Two other Roots-related items. First, they now have a full kitchen. I don't know how long, or how long I've missed it (though more than once, for sure), but you can now get cooked food. I haven't a clue whether it's good, but it's pretty fast. Even amid the rush last night, a friend I was with got a burger in about 20 minutes from ordering it.

Second, the side room is sort of open (see pic, circa 5:45 last night before the crowd arrived)--Cheers to Belgian Beers-goers will recognize the space. It's pretty raw, with the adhesive still on the cement floor, sheet rock unpainted, and no heat to speak of--but it made it possible for a lot more people to enjoy the Epic release.

__________________
*Okay, this may not be true. A commenter on another thread says they're 50 ounces--which would make them a slightly better per-ounce deal than the 22s, restoring order to the universe.

Roots Epic Release Tonight

The Beer
Epic starts not with the brew kettle, but earlier, when the Roots men smoke 55 pounds of Munich malt in a smoker of their own creation ("a special stainless perfrated contraption"). The fuel for the fire is cherry wood that has been soaked in 18-year-old Glenlivet, cognac, rum, as well as cherries. They spend a week smoking the malt, hand turning 3-pound batches every 15 minutes for four hours. They use a massive amount of malt to brew the beer, resulting in a 14%, 80 IBU monster ale.

The Release - 6pm
Tonight's the release party, and it's probably going to be a madhouse. Bottles (just 40 cases!) are available only at the brewery. You can also get a 10 oz glass (according to the brewery; Angelo says it's 8.5). Either way, at 14%, it's a mighty pour. Careful if you're driving, particularly if the roads go wrong. I'd encourage you to come tomorrow in order that I might have easier access to the beer, but I know that's a fool's request. See you there--

Roots Brewing
520 SE 7th
503-235-7668

Difficult Adjuncts/Roots Habanero Stout

I stopped into Roots yesterday to see if I could rustle up either some Epic or the Chocolate Habanero Stout. Epic isn't out til Thursday, but the Habanero's pouring (or burning, depending on your palate). To refresh your memory, last year's version was a fascinating beer. The chocolatey stout was up front, not the chilis. At first, you didn't notice but a touch of spice, but then at swallow, the fire warmed up enough to kindle some sparks going down. It was a subtle background note. Over time, the spiciness would collect at the back of your throat, though, and it would slowly warm up.

In this year's version, the habaneros (100, including 15 donated by a proud guy sitting at the bar last night) are the first thing you notice, like a punch in the mouth. I braced, imagining that this was only the first wave, with pain and awe to follow. Remarkably, the heat died and the sweeter stout came forward. It didn't spark going down, and it didn't collect on my palate; but to the last sip, the first contact always brought a shock to my tongue like static electricity.

Habaneros are a dangerous chili to work with. They are many times more spicy than most other peppers--100 times spicier than a jalapeno. That makes the margin of error very small--too many and you have nuclear heat, but too few and you get nothing. In beer, spruce is like this--so easy to overdo. I think Roots has essentially got the recipe right. The chili-to-chili variation means that it's never possible to know if a batch is slightly hotter or cooler than the last. The brewers are aiming to heat up their beer (and, presumably, the chilly bellies of their drinkers), so they can't risk ratcheting back too much. (Though I think the fact that they steep the peppers in the fermenting beer, rather than adding them to the boil, helps minimize risk.)

It will be interesting to watch this beer in years to come. The unpredictability of the chilis will produce something a little different each time. I look forward to sitting down to each new batch, never knowning what will happen when I tip the glass toward my waiting tongue.

[Update: In case it wasn't clear in this post, Roots launches Epic on Thursday at 6pm at the pub. I suggest arriving at 6:30, so that you will allow me to have safely secured a couple 22 ouncers and a snifter of the elixir first.]

Ft. George Cohoperative and Roots Hoppopotamus

What do Roots and Astoria's Fort George have in common? Within the realm of fresh hop beers, this: they both used home-grown organic hops. Fort George used an unspecified variety, while Roots went with Nuggets and Cascades. Add this to the similarities--neither one had that "decomposition" note I find occasionally off-putting.

Fort George Cohoperative
This was a true amber color--bright and lustruous, like the stone. I got a candy-sweet aroma with the tiniest bit of hop, slightly citrus, slightly spicy. It was what I'd call a "normal" hop aroma--nothing funky or unidentifiably herbal. On the palate, the hops come through sharply, and in a standard citrus-bitter spectrum I recognized. Unfortunately, there was something a bit grinding on the tongue. I wonder if it didn't come from the tannins in the hops--sometimes if you get some stems or leaves in there, that's a problem. Or perhaps it was a husky note from crystal malt. In either case, it diminished the beer. I'd rate it between a decent outing and winner.

Roots Hoppopotamus
In the dim light of the pub, this beer looked amber-red and was slightly hazy. The aroma was a straight hop note, mostly citrus, along with the usual assortment of other weird smells--herbs, roots, flowers--that you expect in a fresh hop beer. The base beer uses a wonderful recipe and produces a round, warm malt bouyed by the lush, layered hopping--pretty close to an ESB in terms of style. It's one of the bitter fresh hop beers, but as with others I've tried, the bitterness doesn't produce a clear, bell-like note. It's swaddled in softer, herbal flavors. The minor flavor notes are hard to identify, but Sally suggests "peanut." Okay.

I have only had six of the fresh hop beers so far this year (missed the Hood River Tastival, and will likely miss Portland's too), but so far, this is the pick of the litter. Definitely a winner. Worth tracking: Nugget and Cascade hops were used in this beer. We'll see if these produce good fresh-hop ales. Laurelwood's also got a Nugget-hopped fresh hop beer.

______________________
Picture credit: Nugget hops from Laurelwood, shot by Matt at Portlandbeer.org.

Roots Gets Bloggy

This may or may not be a reliable way to get info, but my inbox was stuffed with alerts from Roots' MySpace blog (you have to register with MySpace to read it). My guess is that periodically someone will remember to update it and you'll get a flood of email. Anyhoo, I'm passin' it along (in brief) 'cause I loves me the Roots:

• Having won last year's inagural Cheers to Belgian Beers, Roots has the honor of hosting it this year. Twelve breweries will vie for the title, brewing ales with the Ardennes/ La Chouffe yeast strain. The tasting happens at the fest, and the rabble (you and me) pick the winner. At Roots Saturday April 5. (I'll post a reminder.)
• Roots' expansion is underway. Won't be expanded until late summer/Fall (which probably means end of the year, if their construction is anything like every other construction project I've heard of).
• Two Belgians are on the way for March and April. On the equinox (3/20), the brewery rolls out Jason McAdam's Belgian brown ale--which also happens to be the entrant in the Cheers to Belgian Beers contest. And in April, they release a Flanders red that's been sitting on oak for a year.

That is all.

[Update: In case casual readers don't dig down to the comments, here's the Roots blog, registration free. Hat tip Ben at PDXstump.)

Another Big Red and Coconut Porter

I have done less reviewing lately (to the criticism of some), but a couple of recent beers call for special attention: Roots Coconut Porter and Caldera Dry Hop Red.

Caldera Dry Hop Red
Let's start with the Caldera. This beer is now at least the fourth in a growing class of beers I'm prepared to name something like "Northwest Red." Siblings include Roots Red, Laurelwood Free Range Red, and Ninkasi Believer. Since I've described the style before, and since it fits perfectly with that description, I'll just excerpt it here:

They are bitter but not overly strong, sharing qualities of IPAs, ESBs, and the Northwest fascination with vivid hopping.... But while these beers have a lot in common with each other, they can't easily be shoehorned into other styles. They're a little stronger than a pale ale, but lighter than an IPA. The lighter body creates a platform for the hops, which though robust, aren't overwhelming. Brewers in Oregon have discovered that the sweet spot for hop lovers is a beer where the flavor, aroma, and bitterness are all aspects of hops; these large reds seem to have been designed to highlight hops at all turns.

My favorite new beer of 2007 was Ninkasi Believer, and Caldera's is every bit its measure. I had a taster at the Laurelhurst before a showing of 3:10 to Yuma, and I didn't need to use my tongue to know I wanted a pint: the hop-field aroma coming off those two ounces was startling in its sticky greenness. I didn't realize at the time it was dry-hopped, but I should have. This kind of scent is hard to produce without it.

But even more interesting than the smell were the flavors the hops produced. On its surface, there were intense Chinook-spicy notes and citrus. But after a moment's reconnoiter, other subtle notes start appearing--rose hips and something that's halfway between pomegranate and peach. As the beer warmed, these notes opened up and really started to express themselves. Clearly a product of the hops, they were nonetheless nothing I've experienced before.

When I wrote the paragraph above describing the style, it was during a rumination about the potential of indigenous styles developing in Oregon. I have dismissed the mere presence of hops as being characteristic of indigenous style, but this beer makes me wonder. Nowhere on the planet can you find beers that exploit hops like Northwest beers (green hops, dry hops, flavor hops, aroma hops, in permutations and combinations too many to count). And none more so than this style. Pomegranate--okay, maybe it's time to reconsider what a style means.

Malt: Two Row, Crystal, Munich
Hops: Cascade, Chinook, Centennial
Original gravity: 1.055
IBU: NA
ABV: 5.7%.
Rating: A


Roots Coconut Porter
I don't think coconut porters are ever going to become an indigenous style, but hey, you never know. This already has gained cult status among dark-ale-loving Portlanders, so maybe it's got legs. Roots is known for doing three things exceptionally well: dark beers, botanicals, and hops. Coconut Porter demonstrates why their use of botanicals hasn't given them the reputation of being merely gimmicky. Craig Nicholls has an instinctive sense of how to use non-traditional additives to accentuate beery characteristics. He doesn't mask the flavors of his beers, he draws them out.

Porter and stouts have a naturally chocolatey note (or can have, in their sweeter versions). And what goes better with chocolate than coconut? To their porter, Roots adds hand-toasted coconut flakes. The resulting flavor is clearly coconutty, but quite mildly so. It piggy-backs the sweet malt, adding a deeper creaminess. If you handed this to ten people and didn't tell them it was brewed with coconut, only half would ask about it--that's how beery this porter tastes.

In one pint I tried recently, there was a slightly sour note. I wondered if it was possibly a result of using actual coconut--with its oiliness and complex compounds--or if the coconut itself sours during fermentation. I liked this quality (I never found a sour beer I didn't like, including the infected stout I had at Tugboat a couple years back), but I could imagine most folks would like the more cleanly sweet batches. But thems the verities of an artisinal craft.

Roots has always encouraged the Island vibe, and Coconut Porter is their version of liquid sunshine to get you through those dark Portland nights. I have found it an effective tonic.

IBU: 25
ABV: 5.0%.
Rating: B+

Green Winter

I stopped in to Roots last night for a pint of Festivus. It is a member of one of my favorite styles of beer--the Northwest winter warmer. While winter warmer isn't itself a category--more a state of mind--in the NW, we're starting to develop something that looks like a more coherent style. It is a red-to-brown strong ale (just north or south of 6.5% alcohol) fairly hoppy, but with a nutty malt base. Enough alcohol to warm you up, enough body to chew on and enough bitterness to keep you interested.

But here's the problem: the hops and alcohol have sharp edges when the beer is green. They need a chance to mellow and combine--to stew like a winter soup. Inevitably, the beers are released before they've had a chance to go through this alchemical process, and the result is a prickly, cold, occasionally harsh beer. I've been told by people I know would love this style that they don't, and I think it's the aging issue.

Last night, I sipped the deep orange, luciously-scented Festivus, about to proclaim it a beer for the rest of us, when it caught in my throat like a frozen burr. Dammit: too green. It will be delightful, this I can divine from the components. In a month.

Ah well, I should know better--it's too early for winter warmers anyway. Now it's still ESB weather.

Roots Expansion

I took Sally's brother and wife to Roots last night and we got lucky and saw Craig there. He gave me an interesting update I thought I'd pass along. Sometime in the not-to-distant future (this year, though), Roots will be expanding into the space to the south. They will actually move brewing ops to where the seats currently are and shift them to the new space in the future. Roots also plans to add a permanent bottling line. Currently, they make do with a mobile bottler who visits the brewery periodically to bottle Woody IPA.

Last year they brewed around 1,500 barrels and are aiming to triple that this year. With the brewery expansion, capacity will go to 8,000-10,000 barrels a year. After which, Craig says, he'll be happy with.

(Yeah, right.)

Anyway, look for changes soon--



[Update: I forgot to mention--Craig also said that Roots is the beer sponsor of the Dew Tour stop (the X Games event) in Portland, which is pretty cool. Oh, and Roots also has a new website--hosana! Sometime in the very near future, they'll be able to regularly update what's on tap at any given time. The Gruit Kolsch blew when I was there and it's still listed as on-tap, so that's apparently not operational yet. Go check it out.]

Organic Beer Fest

Organic Beer Fest
Friday June 8 (3 - 9:30 pm)
Saturday June 9 (Noon - 9pm)
Overlook Park (Fremont and Interstate)

Admission is free, $5 for a mug (a dollar off if you show a Tri-met ticket or bring a can for the Oregon Food Bank). A 4-oz taster is a dollar.

For the first time in over a decade, I self-consciously decided to skip the Spring Beer Fest. There has been an ever-growing tendency by that fest to include random vendors (last year's review here). At first it expanded to vintners (fine), then to some vendors more or less distantly connected to food (eh), then to random peddlers (bad), then to guys who sold vinyl windows (very bad). So I blew it off.

There arrives this year the third installation of a new beerfest that I expect to jump in the hole left by the SBF in my four-season calendar (in Oregon, Spring runs through June): The North American Organic Brewers Festival. It is headed by the boys of Roots, which is a good start, and it includes 25 breweries and 40 beers (even better), and will be held this year in the beautiful Overlook Park (hot damn). I anticipate a rocking good time. Keeping in mind that I rarely am a bandwagon promoter, I regard this as the most interesting beer event this year, and a definite must-see.

Normally, I would offer a preview of the beers here, but I have tried exactly three of them. This is mainly because organic beer is yet hard to brew. Organic hops and malt are specialty items, so most breweries (Roots, Fish Tale, and Wolaver's excepted) don't have regular organic offerings. So you get things like Deschutes Organic Carbonic Red (5.2% abv 44 IBUs). There will also be an appearance of a beer from Christian Ettinger's as-yet unopened new brewery (Hopworks Urban Brewery).

In fact, it is festivals like this that create the interest in, and subsequent market for, organic beers. It's by no means a totally obscure market, and the more brewers ask for organic malt and hops, the more growers will devote acreage to it. So by attending this fest, you help the cause of organics (and also Oregon Tilth, Oregon Food Bank, Doernbecher Children's Hospital, who will receive some of the proceeds.)

The link above is to John Foyston's post, and he has a more detailed summary of the event. I'll include a short list of the interesting-looking beers I'm hepped up for (no promises!). For more, check his site out (it's better than the official site). And plan to set aside an afternoon. See you there!

A Few Interesting-Looking Beers

• Crannog Ales (British Columbia) - Backhand of God Stout
• Deschutes Brewery - Organic Carbonic Red Ale
• Elliot Bay Brewing Co. (Seattle) - Klondike Gold Belgian IPA
• Fort George Brewery (Astoria) - Quick Wit Belgian White Ale
• Hopworks Urban Brewery ( Portland) - Hopworks Organic IPA
• Lakefront Brewery (Milwaukee, WI) - Organic ESB
• Brouwerij 't IJ (Netherlands) - Natte, Zatte [both are 2 tickets]

Roots Winter Beers

I poked my head into Roots last night, where they were having a special on five--count 'em five--huge winter beers: Festivus, Imperial Stout, Epic Ale, a tripel, and a Wee Heavy. I decided to skip the entire flight (I needed to work today), but did check in on this year's Epic as well as the Imperial Stout. Quickie reax:

Epic Ale
To really reach its potential, this beer should probably never be served greener than a year old--which for a brewery is financially unviable. (You can, of course, by an $85 jeraboam, but at 3.3 liters, it presents its own problems.) Anyway, here are my notes: looks like viscous Coca Cola in its little serving goblet. Lacks much aroma--just a thick, barleywine malt faintness. It is rich with dark fruit and candied orange flavor, followed up by a sharp hop bitterness that keeps the beer from cloying. In a year, probably amazing; from the tap, an interesting, very intense ride.
Rating: Good.

Imperial Stout (nitro)
Exquisite. Ultra creamy and misleadingly delicate. A friend described it as an Irish type stout, and I thought he was just being dim. But it's true--the density and alcohol are lost in a froth of chocolatey creaminess. It does finish dry, and is more akin to a dry Irish than sweet stout, but bears no resemblance to an imperial. Never mind, it's amazing.
Rating: Good.

(Incidentally, I also had two mouthfuls of Festivus, which struck me as being a little out of balance and underwhelming. This isn't a reliable review, but you might try the tripel or Scottish first. After the stout, natch.)

Roots Epic Ale

Last year, Roots Brewpub had a beer on tap they called "Epic," which quickly became a cult fave. It's back:

The release of the the (second year) Epic Ale is being released on Thurs 12/21. We have a Bitchin new label to bring in the new Epic Ale. The First Epic to be tapped will be last year's Epic Ale, aged for almost 16 months it's going to go fast so get here early. We open at three, Party starts at 6:oo with great music and food. We will start calling out #'s for the Jeroboams ( 3 Litre bottles) at approx. 8:oo so get here early as they go fast!

Cheers!
Craig Nicholls
Roots Organic Brewing Co.

Okay, Craig's a brewer, not a writer, but you get the picture. Those jeraboams he references are selling for a whopping $80 (a mere $.79 an ounce, or $12 a pint), but word is that they immediately go for big bucks on eBay. Anyhoo, that's tomorrow, the coldest, darkest day of the year. Nothing like a 13% beer to warm your belly. (And you can get it cheaper on tap.)

The Maestro's New Place

Originally published July 26, 2005 on BlueOregon.

There are two schools of brewing, the scientific and the artistic. They are not quite diametrically opposed. The scientific school, characterized by the great German brewers, holds that beer is a compound of precise elements--the more rigorously one strips this compound of extraneous flavors, the purer the product. The artistic school, characterized by Belgian brewers, views brewing as an improvisational art. For these practitioners, the essence of beer can only be expressed through originality and audacity. In the new world, Colorado brewers hew the scientific line, Oregonians the artistic. And in Oregon, the maestro of the art is Craig Nicholls.

Nicholls, the founding brewer at the Alameda Brewhouse in the 90s, gained wide fame (among beer geeks) for alchemical brews that included roses (Spring Rose Doppelbock), juniper branches (Juniper Porter), and sage (Zeppelin Sage Fest Bier), among other odd infusions. He bumped around for several years, toting his bag of herbs to Hood River, Gresham, and points nearer by. Four months ago, he landed in SE Portland in a place he can call his own (in what may or may not be Portland's newest brewery)--Roots Organic Brewing.

The art continues at Roots. I know of only two beers in Oregon that are brewed without hops (blasphemy?), and both are brewed by Craig. The first is an old fave, Burghead Heather Ale, in which heather tips offset the sweet malt--a standard in the days before brewers discovered hops. Upon first inspection--sniff, swallow, smack--it seems different enough from a regular beer that many stop at the one sip. Weirdly, though, the more you drink, the more it starts tasting like a regular beer. With Nicholls' brews, that's usually the way; he uses herbs to accentuate beery tastes, not to mask them. You could travel the country and never find a beer like it.

Another of the no-hop specialties is a Kolsch made with a potpourri of herbs--lavender, coriander, bitter (Curacao) orange peel, paradise seeds (I think), camomile, among others that now elude me. I suppose Kolsch is the style closest to this beer--it's soft and mild--but again, it's in its own class. The spices come together to create a gingery aroma, but are very subtle to taste seperately. He was nearing the end of his supply at the brewery, but you'll have an opportunity to try it at the Oregon Brewers Fest.

But perhaps you want regular beers. Roots has 'em. The pub offers a pale ale of modest bitterness, but rich hop flavor, an IPA of profound bitterness and strength, a succulent stout so creamy and rich you don't notice the 7% alcohol (this recipe was brewed by Nicholls' partner, Jason McAdam, a McMenamins vet), and a beer called "Red" and "stout" which is neither, though it is rich with oats and sharp with English hopping. If you're really in the mood, there's also an Imperial IPA with enough Amarillo hops to knock you on your ass.

Craig and Jason are currently the whole staff. If you stop in, one of them will pour you a beer (if you find yourself shaking the bartender's hand, that's Craig), and if you order a sandwich, one of them will scuttle over to the side of the bar and make it for you on the spot. And if they blow a keg--as they did last night with the stout--one of them will wheel around to the brewery, which encircles the pub in stainless steel, and whip up a new batch. As I was on my way out, Craig stopped to sniff the air. "Smell that?" he asked. "That's the stout Jason just started." It was eight-thirty at night.

Artists and brewers are not beholden to office hours.

___________________________
Roots Organic Brewing
1520 SE 7th Avenue, Portland -- just two blocks from the Lucky Lab