Oregon Brewers Festival - The Five-Rupee Preview

Note: the post has been updated annotated following my visit to the Fest.

And so it begins.

The Oregon Brewers Festival is perhaps the most famous non-award fest outside of Munich, and it's a force of nature--hurricane or solstice-like celebration, your choice. No matter what beer shows up, if the temperature is below 90, the throngs will arrive. Once the showcase event for craft beer, the OBF has become something more--and less. With no fewer than a half-dozen other serious Portland fests, the Brewers Fest no longer boasts the best beer. And because the season and location has fostered a party atmosphere, beer geeks long ago downgraded this from a "must see" fest to a "if I'm in the mood."

Ah, but I wonder: are things changing? I have complained in years past about what looks like a cartel on brewery selections. The same old breweries were always invited, and the little guys got left out. This year they've tightened things up. Here's just some of the wee folk who got a nod: Natian, Upright, Vertigo, Laht Neppur, Hop Valley, 10 Barrel, Mt. Emily, Three Creeks, Double Mountain, Seven Brides, and Southern Oregon.

But it's in the beer list where hope is kindled for a OBF revival. In past years, you could be forgiven for thinking the OBF was the IPA fest. This year, more than any in memory, there are some delicate, light beers. With 33 offerings at 5.5% or under (and 13 at 5% or under), you can easily turn this into a session fest. IPAs are here, of course, but big beers are rarer; none exceed 10% and only 18 exceed 7%. Mostly what we have are nice, mid-range beers; perfect for a summer day.

So, onto the preview. These things are always fraught with difficulty--do you aim it at local audiences or visiting audiences? I'm excited about beers from Minnesota, but visitors from the Twin Cities may yawn at Surly's Bitter. Those folks want to try beers like Double Mountain's Vaporizer--certainly a delight, but a familiar one to Portlanders. This year I'll go by category and suggest beers that look good in each, and for good measure mention the ten beers I most want to try.

As always, the two most important things to remember are to lay down a layer of protein before you go and stay hydrated. After that, have fun--

Starters
With so many small beers on offer, this category isn't the usual first-beer-and-go. I might well spend half the day with these little guys.

• The Bruery 7-Grain Saison. A small saison of 5% made with rye, oats, wheat, rice, and corn. It sounds like what saisons would have tasted like if they'd been invented in the US.
• Caldera Hibiscus Ginger Beer. The name sort of says it all. Brewed specially for the Fest, it will either be a fascinating experiment or something to remember. [Not recommended. The balance is a bit off--too sweet and too gingery. All the pieces are there, it just didn't quite come together.]
  
• Collaborator Sunstone Pilsner. The homebrewer/Widmer collaborator project is a German pilsner made with 35% American wheat. Should be both tasty and fun.
  
• Laht Neppur Strawberry Cream Ale. Talk to people before you try this, because it may be a horrible travesty. Made with lactose and strawberries. Could also be lovely. [Not recommended. Tends more toward travesty.]
  
• Natian Destination. One of Oregon's smallest breweries arrives with an interesting beer--a red sweetened with honey and hopped with Palisades.
  
• Surly Bitter Brewer. Made with oats for extra silkiness, a 4% beer with 30 IBUs--just like we like it.
• Three Creeks Creekside Kolsch. Among the kolsches, this looks most promising: a bit of bitterness from traditional German hops should make it a tasty update on a classic style.

The Hoppy Beers
We may lobby and cajole people to try other "interesting" styles, but at the end of the day, Northwesterners want their hops. There are as usual many, many options--31 have 50 IBUs or more and ten are north of 90. But you can't judge a hoppy beer by its IBUs. Here are the ones that look good to me.

• Boundary Bay German Tradition Double Dry Pale. That confusing name needs some unpacking. Boundary Bay has for years been making single-hop beers, and this year's is made with newly-introduced German Tradition hops. "Double dry" refers to two infusions of dry hopping.
  
• Deschutes Fresh-Squeezed IPA. A single-hop IPA made with Citras. If you're not familiar with this new belle of the hop ball, here's a chance to make her acquaintance.
• Green Flash Le Freak. A Belgian IPA all the kids are talking about. Green Flash knows hops, so this should be a winner.
  
• Hop Valley Alpha Centauri Binary IPA. With no Pliny this year, we have to sub in a late-fest, shattered-palate hop monster. Five hop varieties plus dry-hopping make this look like a good pick.
• Lucky Lab Summit IPA. This beer, made with obscene amounts of Summit hops, will not be for me. But the orangey (and sweaty) Summits will probably thrill many.
• Terminal Gravity Single Hop IPA. Okay, single hopping isn't an obsession with me, but these all just seem interesting. The single hop strain in question here is Columbus.
  
• Widmer Captain Shaddock IPA. The Widmers always make a special beer for the fest, and the 2010 brew features what may a case of hyper-literalism." Since many hoppy beers have a grapefruit note, the Brothers reasoned, why not actually use grapefruit peels? Or maybe it's transcendent. Worth a pour either way.
  

The Belgians
This fest features fewer Belgian-style ales than recent years, but here are a few that look mighty tasty:

• Flying Fish Exit 4. New Jersey's Flying Fish brings their much-lauded tripel, which last year won gold at the GABF. She's big--9.5%--so be careful.
• Goose Island Sofie. One of the best saisons I've had--and I have frustratingly only had it once. I'll rectify that today.
• Rock Bottom Oud Heverlee. Flemish Brabant, the "style" of this beer, is actually a Belgian province--and Heverlee is a town in that province. I think Van Havig's pulling our leg here. In any case, the beer's made with tulips and is otherwise obscure. Should be fun.
• Boulevard Tank 7 Farmhouse. Boulevard has really been a leader on the farmhouse front, but I've failed to experience their bounty. This is like a bigger version of the Bruery's made with corn and wheat and 40 IBUs.
  

Local Faves
If you are visiting from elsewhere and want the best of the local beers, here are a few to start with.

• Beer Valley Leafer Madness (Ontario, OR). You know how Reefer Madness is a cult fave? So's Leafer Madness. Mad hopping, so beware.
• Cascade Summer Gose (Portland, OR). Ron Gansberg makes many offbeat beers, and I knew one of them would become a beloved local fave. I never would have guessed it would be a gose.
  
• Double Mountain Vaporizer (Hood River, OR). These guys know how to make hoppy beers that don't assault but still please the most discerning hophead.
  
• Fort George Vortex (Astoria, OR). There are so many good IPAs that this one often gets overlooked. Drink this and you can brag to your friends back in Indianapolis that you had the best Oregon IPA no one's tried.
• Laurelwood Organic Deranger/Hopworks Rise Up Red (Portland, OR). A style has emerged in the Northwest that is sort of like a stripped down IPA--none of the sweet biscuity malts to interfere with the lupulin enjoyment. These are two good ones.
• Oakshire Overcast Espresso Stout (Eugene, OR). No, not every style brewed in Oregon has scads of hops. Some have coffee!
• Pelican Kiwanda Cream Ale. One of the best summer ales available. A great first beer, too.
  

My Top Ten
It's all well and good to praise and recommend 26 beers as I have done--but I can't drink all of those. I'll definitely try a number of the beers above, plus a couple others. From the list above: Boundary Bay German Tradition, Bruery 7-Grain Saison, Caldera Hibiscus Ginger, Collaborator Sunstone Pilsner, Flying Fish Exit 4, Goose Island Sofie, Natian Destination, Surly Bitter Brewer. There are two more I haven't mentioned that are on my list:

• Great Divide Hoss Rye Lager. Described as an Oktoberfest, but looking a bit like a roggenbier, this whatever-it-is has caught my eye.
• Rogue Ales 21. John Maier always brews a new beer for the Fest, and guess how many years he's been doing it? This is an old ale, one of my fave styles, made in the old way with molasses and licorice.

I'll be headed down to the Fest today, so I should be able to update you on some of these beers. Meanwhile, you should mention what I missed or got wrong in comments so festgoers are not lead astray. Cheers and happy OBF--

Trends at the OBF: 41% Adulteration

The waxing and waning of trends is fascinating to behold, particularly when you adopt the long view. Take fruit, for instance. Shortly after the inception of craft brewing, fruit beers were huge. The popular ones, however, bore a stronger resemblance to wine coolers* than beer, and this led breweries down a dark path. They ultimately died of shame in 1995. But then, Lazarus-like, they started to appear again a few years ago, often flavoring beers like Cascade's sour ales. Some of the sweet ones came back, too, but with more balance and way less sugar. Fruit had gained a measure of respect. As evidence of this, eleven beers arrive at the OBF bearing the blush of juice.

The use of barley has gone through a similar transformation. When craft-brewing started, all-barley beers were the mark of quality. To brew with any "cereal grains" was to be tainted with impurity, moral more than zymurgical. Wheat was granted an exception, but still regarded with mistrust. Well, at this year's fest we have nineteen beers employing wheat, five using oats, and two each using rye, spelt, corn, and rice. Yes, corn and rice--the hated, tainted, immoral cereal grains! Of course, these ingredients are no longer tainted, and haven't been for a few years. As craft brewing matures, brewers will use anything to improve a beer, including the use of ingredients that were formerly used to ruin beer.

Finally, we have adjuncts, which were once used only in gimmick beers or witbiers. Now--and I think you have to give some credit to Craig Nicholls for this--they're used the way cooks and Belgians do, to add a hint of flavor. A partial list of the additives in this year's OBF beers:

• cocoa
• coffee
• dried tulips
• ginger
• grapefruit peel
  
• hibiscus
• hyssop
  
• lactose
• lemongrass
  
• orange blossoms
• pepper
  

As a reaction to the corporate adulteration of beer in the 1970s, early craft brewers went for an austere, almost reinheitsgebot-like purity. But we're Americans, foes of hidebound tradition--it didn't take. By my count, of the 81 beers in this year's fest, 33 have been "adulterated" in some way. This is a good trend. The breweries are maturer now, and they recognize that additives can help draw out the essential beeryness of beer. That was the mistake early brewers made; they used additives to transmute beer into abominations.

So, in general, viva la exotica. You just can't have enough pomegranate and hyssop spelt beers.
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*Back in the olden days, wine and fruit juice were combined to make a beverage called "wine coolers" that were irresistible to 16-year-olds. (And possibly 90-year-old women.) After finding one too many peach-breathed youths lying naked on a park bench, the feds finally taxed them out of existence in 1991.

Goose Island at the Summit

President Obama is a man who appreciates a beer. Do a Google image search of "Obama" and "beer" and you'll see a number of images of him brandishing a frosty one. When he visited Oregon during the campaign, there was even a short video clip of him being urged to try an Oregon IPA--a suggestion to which he appeared receptive. Still, he's a typical American, and he appears to like typical beers. At the famous "beer summit," he drank Bud.

So when I saw this morning's headline that he and British PM David Cameron shared beer from each other's country, I figured we'd have a macro reprise. But no! In a display of home-town loyalty, Obama brought Goose Island to the summit:

President Obama paid off a World Cup bet with British Prime Minister Cameron on Saturday with Goose Island 312 beer from Chicago. Though the U.S.-England game ended up in a tie, both leaders paid off their respective bets. Obama and Cameron mentioned the beers after a joint meeting in Toronto, where they are attending the G-8 and G-20 economic summits.

"We are exchanging -- and paying off our debts at the same time -- this is Goose Island 312 beer from my hometown of Chicago," said Obama. Cameron showed off his local brew. "This is Hobgoblin from the Wychwood brew in Witney, in my constituency," he said.

Okay, Obama also demanded that the beers be served ice cold, and winkingly derided British cask ale. And he selected a beer that was as close to Bud as craft beer comes. But still, Goose Island!

The Temptation to Corruption

There are good and bad things about social media. Mostly it's good. But as I have learned in the last few weeks, social media offers a tantalizing opportunity for the blogger to corrupt himself for traffic. I was reminded of this yesterday when I started to see a bunch of hits come in off Facebook. Turns out Rogue had linked up my post. Over the course of the day, I'd estimate it juiced my hits by about 25%.

All well and good until you consider that Rogue linked me up because I was praising their beer and pub. Had I disliked Chatoe Single Malt I'm guessing they would have chosen not to direct their fans my way. And there you have it: I toady up to breweries, I get more traffic. Hell, do it enough, I might even get ad revenue!

I may have to institute a second series of awards as a way of building up my corruption antibodies. I'm thinking the "Dismal Malty Substances (DMS) Awards"--sort of like Hollywood's Razzies. In the meantime, readers may have to find their inner Doc Worts and keep us bloggers honest.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to work on a post about how handsome Jamie Floyd is.

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PHOTO: HOMO POLITICUS

2010 Oregon Brewers Fest, By the Numbers

The last few years, I've done an edition of OBF by the numbers--and it often came off as a bit of an indictment. There weren't very many styles, a huge proportion of the beers were IPAs or pale ales, and major breweries were just bringing their same old beers. Ah, but numbers can also tell you when things are looking good. And after a few years of grumbles, it looks like the OBF has begun to shake things up. To kick off week-long coverage of the venerable Oregon Brewers Fest, feast your eyes on these numbers.

Years since inception: 23
Total beers: 81
Total breweries: 81
States represented: 16
Percent Oregon: 43%
Percent California: 22%
Percent Washington: 9%
All Others: 26%

Ale to Lager ratio: 9 to 1
Total styles (by broad category): 27
IPAs: 20% (16 total)
Belgian styles: 12%
German styles: 14%
Pale ale to farmhouse ale ratio: 1 to 1
Other well-represented niche* styles:
__- Pilsner: 5
__- Brown ale: 4
__- Cream ale: 3
__- Bock: 3
__- Kolsch: 2

Beers using wheat: 23%
Beers using spices/adjuncts: 15%
Fruit beers: 15%

ABV of smallest beer (three examples): 4%
ABV of largest beer (Flying Fish Exit 4 Tripel): 9.5%
Fewest IBUs in Fest (Upright Reggae Junkie Gruit): 0
Most IBUs at the Fest (Lucky Lab Summit IPA): 111
Minimum years in a row 21st Amendment has brought Watermelon Wheat: 9

More to come ...

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*Niche styles in the Northwest, anyway.

IPAs and More IPAs: Bell's Two-Hearted Ale

I must be living right, because across the street from me resides a beer fairy. Periodically, he'll leave a bottle on the porch--generally of something unavailable in Portland. Last week, he left me a beer I've been trying to track down for weeks: Bell's Two Hearted Ale.

Two Hearted Ale is a legitimately legendary beer--though like all the early IPAs, the light of its fame shines a little less brightly amid all the newer ones. As far as I know, it's never been distributed out west; all these years people have spoken about it the way kids arriving back from Disneyland used to describe it to us lost souls who had never been. The beer is named for a famous story by Hemingway in the Nick Adams series. Returning from WWII first world war, Nick takes refuge in the Two Hearted River as a way to heal his wounded psyche. One couldn't help but wonder whether Bell's thought the beer contained similar properties--the legend seemed to suggest it. Naturally, I expected it to fall short of expectations--no beer could meet them--but I was still hoping to find a great beer.

Tasting Notes
I had an interesting experience with the aroma. When the beer was freshly-poured, it let off a spritzy, effervescent citrus smell, but it was volatile. Moments later, the aroma softened as it warmed and caramel malt emerged. It has the classic West Coast appearance--cloudy yellow with a sticky off-white head.

The flavor deviates from West Coast beers thanks to the hopping--peppery and sharp, with an herbal/medicinal quality. The body is creamy and the malts are pure caramel--a nice balance for the hops. There's a minerally sharp note whose source I can't identify, but which provides a bit of interest. Of course, as with any IPA, it's the hops that make the beer. In Two Hearted Ale, they're robust but slightly indistinct--stewed rather than bristling with, pardon the pun, bell-like clarity.

I've generally been disappointed with Midwest and East Coast IPAs. It's not that they're less assertive or bitter, but they seem to be less lively, less vital. Two-hearted Ale concedes nothing in this respect, though its character is quite a bit different. The hopping gives it a completely different quality. This is good--regional character is something to celebrate. I wouldn't call it the best IPA I've ever had, nor did I notice any appreciable healing (my sciatica was still there). But it deserves its reputation and is perhaps the best IPA East of the Mississippi. As my dad would say, that's better than a poke in the ass with a broken beer bottle.

In Praise of Rogue

Rogue has its critics. Some of the sniping is well-earned (overly pricey beer and food at the pubs, sometimes pretentious hype), but some of it is just a culture clash. Rogue has a national presence, and it dotes less on locals than any other major brewery. But I come today not to nitpick Newport's finest, but to praise it. Two objects draw my honeyed prose:

1. Chatoe Single Malt. Okay, that "chatoe" business is bad--it falls into the "sometimes pretentious hype" category. I'm not sure if they're mocking wine (chatoe, dirtoir) and if so, why, but it's a distracting affectation. The beer, however, is a wonder of restraint. For all its bluster, Rogue has managed to get less attention and credit for its hop and barley fields than it should. Bringing the crops into the line of production makes Rogue not only uber-green, but restores them to an ancient lineage of farmhouse breweries. (I wish they'd highlight the farmhouse aspect rather than using a misplaced wine appellation reference.) The Single Malt is meant to highlight the ingredients, and Rogue boldly does so by offering a 12º P session ale of modest hopping (35 BU). No over-compensation here; Rogue's confident enough in the quality of their ingredients that they display them nakedly.

A wise choice. By style, I guess you could call it a best bitter--Rogue's "Revolution" hops don't even incline you to think they're particularly American. They have a grassy, slightly lemony quality. Together with the gentle, bready malt, the beer becomes crisp and almost astringent. The softness of the malt and spicy/grassy quality remind me a bit of a kolsch. My guess is that this beer will taste best the closer it is to the conditioning tank. It's delicacy must be both fragile and evanescent. I had a pint at the Astoria pub that seemed sparklingly fresh. A very accomplished beer, and a surprising one.

2. The Rogue Astoria Pub. For a town with a population of just 10,000, Astoria has an embarrassment of brewpub riches. Astoria Brewing has one of the best views in Oregon, and Fort George has quickly distinguished itself as one of the better Oregon brewpubs. Rogue's pub, which doesn't have an attached brewery, may well play third fiddle for visitors. A pity. Located in the historic Bumblebee Cannery building, it is literally out in the middle of the river. I've been there in nasty weather, when it's warm and cozy, and sunny weather, when it's bright and airy. Either way, the vast expanse of the Columbia is just outside the window. Inside, the pub has that comfortable, worn feel of an antique pub--even though it's only been open since 2007.

As with all Rogue pubs, it's expensive, but you receive in compensation the opportunity to try some of their rarer, specialty beers. It doesn't feel like a Rogue pub so much as an Astoria pub--a neat trick for a new place. And, as evidence of other good behavior they don't often get credit for, they leave two taps open for Fort George and have a substantial "Fort George Beer Served Here" poster behind the bar. If you're in town more than a night or two, try to work it in.

PIB Is Showing Some Midlife Flabbiness

Note: post updated with my recommendations after last night's visit.

I had, as usual, a delightful time at the Portland International Beerfest last night. Sally and I were in line by 3:35 and I scored a table in the shade as a base of operation. Although the fest gets more popular every year, it was still mild by OBF standards, and the shade, good beer, and doggy vibe always pleases. Okay, praise doled out, we now move to the airing of grievances. PIB seems to be developing a few bad habits and a friendly intervention or two may help them steer back to the straight an narrow. My complaints:

1. False advertising. PIB has never had the greatest system for directing drinkers to selected beers. The free brochure has always been a convoluted mess, trying to serve twin masters--drinkers and the distributors who help make the fest possible. The result is that you stare at a beer map written in 8-point font on one page and try to get back to find beer details on another page--which is organized by distributor, not brewery. I've gotten used to this. What was new--and distinctly uncool--is that the ticket prices listed in the brochure didn't always match the number at the tap/bottle. Cantillon's Lou Pepe Kriek was listed as three tokens in the brochure, but six (!) when you finally made it to the bottle.
2. Declining quality of beers. I mentioned this in my review, but it was more palpable once I was there. The problem is that almost all foreign bottled beers are now at least two tickets, and most are three or four. A lot of these are only average beers. (One of my friends, not a big beer fan, paid three tickets for Lindemans Framboise--a beer that retails for about five bucks a bottle.) If you're going to charge a buck an ounce, you better assemble a stellar list. I found a number of nice beers, but I knew how to look.
   
3. Lack of information. This is an ongoing problem, but was highlighted by an email I got from the OBF while I was at the fest. It contained detailed descriptions of all the beers. In past years, PIB did a half-assed job of at least giving descriptions on-line. This year, almost none of the beers had descriptions on-line. The meager brochure was no help, either. It may not benefit PIB's bottom line to spend the money to pay someone to put this together, but it's gross malfeasance to fest-goers. Only a tiny fraction will have had any idea what to expect from most of the beers. This has always been a problem, but I've chosen to overlook it due to the fest's overall strength. I overlook it no more. Pay someone a hundred bucks and put out a decent guide, folks. And get rid of that stupid way of listing beers by distributor.
4. No Odin's Tipple! This was the final straw. I'd saved my last four tokens for Haandbryggeriet Odin's Tipple, which apparently didn't make it. These things happen, but it was a bad note to strike at the end of the fest. Two other people, incomprehensible brochures in hand, were also standing where this beer should have been, and of course, the poor pourer had no idea what the issue was.

The OBF went through a similar midlife slump, resting on its laurels even as many serious beer fans abandoned it. (They have thankfully rallied.) PIB needs to get its act together or a similar fate looms.


Update. I shouldn't miss the forest for the trees. Here are three nice beers I tried yesterday:

• Rose Petal Imperial Golden Ale. Honest to god, this was my favorite beer from the fest. It has a magical property. After you swallow, the botanical volatiles coalesce and you get a lovely, rosey aftershock.
• St Feuillien Saison. fresh and organic. Got the raised eyebrow of surprise when I passed it around.
• Bateman's Mr. George's Ruby Porter. Have it early because the subtle roasty flavors are delicate and easily crushed by palate-dulling hops and sourness.

Of course, La Folie and Double Mountain Kriek were fantastic, but you probably already knew that.

Tej - Ethiopian Spiced Mead

My sojourn to Astoria has been rich with discoveries, but the richest lode may have come last night when I visited Drina Daisy, a Bosnian restaurant downtown. I was initially attracted by the line-up of beer bottles in the window--a selection from the region almost wholly unfamiliar. The folks on Yelp love the place, so we decided to give it a whirl. Based on a quickie web search, I decided to forgo the beer--Lasko, Karlovacko, and Niksickie. While Lasko, from hop-growing Slovenia, may have been a characterful pils, BeerAdvocate raters dismissed it. The wine list, which featured a bunch of grapes I've never heard of, was far more alluring.

I know wine is generally beyond the ken of this blog (and blogger), I have to direct you to two grape varieties should you see them in the store:

• Vranac. An important grape from Montenegro. The Vranac at Drina Daisy (unhelpfully labeled only "Vranac" on the bottle) was dense of body and jammy, but not heavy or sweet. It was a gentle wine that ended softly.
  
• Blatina. Even better, this wine smelled something like a spicy pinot, but had the color of a Cabernet. It tasted more like Italian grapes though, and had tons of pepper and spice. I don't think I've ever tasted a wine so spicy. A huge winner.
  

Then, for desert, we continued with exotic liquids. Sally ordered a sweet pomegranate wine and I got Tej, which is actually Ethiopian. It was described in the menu as "hopped," and because it was made in the US, it might have been. traditionally, though, Ethiopians spice Tej with crushed gesho, a form of buckthorn native to Africa. The variety on offer was pretty sweet and quite alcoholic. It was made with a grassy honey, a quality accentuated by the spice. That astringency was critical to balance the beverage. Sally's pomegranate wine was a winner, too. Fruit wines suffer for being over-sweet, but pomegranates are sharp and tart, characteristics carried over in the wine. Tannins from the seeds were evident, too. Complex and satisfying.

Next time you're in Astoria, consider stopping in. Big fun--

PIB 2010

Portland International Beerfest
North Park Blocks (entrance at Davis and Park)
Fri 4-10, Sat noon-10, Sun noon-7pm.
No children allowed, but dogs are okay

The Portland International Beerfest rolls into town tomorrow, bringing with it 134 beers. For those who have been to past incarnations, much will look familiar: the pleasant location in the North Park Blocks, exotic bottles swimming in icewater, the eye-popping variation in price between pours (some as little as a buck, some as much as seven). These idiosyncrasies distinguish it from the all-draft fests that are the standard almost as much as the beer itself, ranging from exotica--to the average beer drinker, anyway--like apple wheat beer (Unibroue Éphémère) to Danish bacon beer (Mikkeller Beer Geek Bacon). Among the subtle changes are a growing emphasis on domestic beers and--though I can't find info on this--and draft beers. More than half (79 by my count) will be flowing from kegs this year, rather than bottles.

I've been hearing a little grumbling by the hardcore beer geeks that this year's line-up is weak, and after studying the list, there's some truth to this. PIB seemed to make a conscious decision this year to highlight American beers, and the result means fewer options from other countries. The German listing is especially weak, notable mainly for the Spaten borg of beers. The British Isles are almost completely abandoned. Just four beers from England and nothing from Scotland, Wales, nor Ireland. This is especially sad, since British beers are enjoying a major renaissance in the craft beer world--beers we almost never see. Nonetheless, part of the reason the list looks weaker is because it has been so consistently mind-boggling in the past. Although there are surely uber beer geeks out there who have tried most of the beers here, for the average drinker, trying to winnow the list is still going to be tough work.

So let's get to a few thoughts and recommendations.

Diversity
As always, Belgian beers are the featured attraction among imports. German beers are close behind, but there are plenty of countries represented. This is another slow-building trend, the increasing number of very good breweries from around the world. Here's what you'll find:

• Belgium (23)
• Canada (8)
• Czech Republic (4)
• Denmark (6)
  
• England (4)
  
• Germany (19)
• Italy (1)
• Japan (2)
• Netherlands (2)
• New Zealand (3)
• Norway (2)
• Poland (3)
• United States (57)

Old Standards
Lots and lots of people will come to the fest with very little knowledge of foreign beer or world beer styles. If they wanted to get a quick, cheap education, they could hit a number of the old classics--mostly from Belgium and Germany. For you, consider these:

• Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek and Cantillon Lou Pepe Kriek (fruit lambic)
• Orval, Westmalle, and Rochefort (Trappist beer)
• Duvel (strong golden)
• Saison Dupont (saison)
• Pilsner Urquell (pilsner)*
• Spaten Oktoberfest (oktoberfest)
• Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse (hefeweizen)
• Spezial Rauchbier and Mönchshof (rauchbier)
• Kulmbacher Eisbock (eisbock)

Recommendations
it's always dicey recommending beers you've never tried--and yet I always do so. Earlier this week, I mentioned some of the good looking American offerings, many of which I'll sample. Among the foreigns, here's my short list of must-tries:

• Jandrain-Jandrenouille IV (Belgium). I'm a sucker for saisons, and this one gets some high marks.
• Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek (Belgium). Lots of love for this rare kriek from a traditional gueuze blender.
• Urthel Hop-It (Belgium). I've long wanted to try this beer that was inspired by the brewer's pass through the Western US.
• Cantillon Iris (Belgium). Um, it's Cantillon Iris. Enough said.
• Scaldis Prestige (Belgium). A 13% bière de champagne.
• Mikkeller Beer Geek Breakfast Bacon (Denmark). A beer made with bacon, the natural endpoint of a mystifying fad. I won't try it unless I hear from braver souls that it won't kill me.
  
• Bateman's Mr. George Ruby Porter (England). Bateman's is a venerable family-owned company, and this 5% porter should be a nice palate-cleanser.
• Spezial Rauchbier (Germany). One of the last traditional rauchbiers. The brewery maintains a maltery in Bamburg, and smoke their own malts.
• De Molen Hel & Verdoemenis (Netherlands). The name of this imperial stout translates to Hell and Damnation. As a friend of mine always says (sort of)--always trust the Dutch!
• Epic Armageddon IPA (New Zealand). Epic is bringing two beers, an American strong ale and this one. Of the two, this one seems most accomplished.
• Haandbryggeriet Odin's Tipple (Norway). A massive imperial stout that gets much love from the beer geeks.
  

I will probably tweet from the fest and mention any buzz beers that emerge. Hope to see you there--

_____________
*Yes, a lesser version of itself, but still an important touchstone.

Beer and Politics

A word to the wise: politicians seeking a little quick publicity should mention beer. Yeah yeah, unemployment sucks, and there's something going on in the Gulf of Mexico. But, whoa, did you see this--Senator Wyden went to Ninkasi to discuss beer taxes! In the last legislative cycle, Jules Bailey's little Honest Pint Act got a lot of press, and the biennial scrap over state beer excise taxes got huge amounts of press.

Now it's the crazy DOJ interpretation about homebrewing that is getting news:

• Statesman Journal
• Portland Mercury
• Willamette Week
• Portland Monthly
• Medford Mail Tribune

State legislators are, of course, lining up to correct the problem. In political terms, this is a can't-lose issue: 1) no one's against it, 2) you get to beat up on stupid bureaucrats, 3) everyone's pro-beer, 4) you get lots of press.

It's worth noting, though, this is an effect, not a cause. Even twenty years ago, no one would have cared about beer laws. It's a testament to the popularity of the Beaver State's favorite beverage that any regulation immediately becomes front-page news.

In Astoria

Travel is good for the soul. Even when you decide to just take an impromptu trip an hour and a half down the Columbia River to Astoria, the change is a balm. Take for instance my experience in Rainier, where Sally and I pulled off to get an afternoon jolt of caffeine. In two adjacent parking lots were two venders. The barista (baristi?) was a cheery Eastern European (Ukrainian, Russian?--I'm not good with accents of the region) who made a very nice latte. Then we moved down the line to a guy selling fresh Oregon berries. This was not the huge, watery, under-ripe variety you get in the grocery stores in April. The strawberries were a small, tart mountain variety, and the blackberries had an herbal note. Barely out of the city and I was already having a good time.

Although this will not be principally a beer trip, I did want to scuttle over to Fort George, where a keg of North III appeared on Monday. A winter beer that really impressed last December, I thought it was gone for good. A bit hefty for July, but it made a surprisingly good partner for the albacore sandwich I had for dinner.

Fascinating anecdote
One thing I didn't realize about the Fort George Brewery--it's on the site of the original 1911 settlement of Astoria. Following the War of 1812, the fort they occupied was renamed Fort George after England's king. That's cool enough. But there's an even better part of the story, and an opportunity the brewery needs to exploit.

As it happens, the first woman of English descent arrived in 1814: an English barmaid named Jane Barnes.

To oversee their new empire, the Northwest Company appointed as governor Donald McTavish, a distinguished veteran partner of the firm. In the spring of 1813, as his ship was being outfitted for its voyage to the far side of the New World, McTavish passed the time in a dockside tavern in Portsmouth, England. Behind the bar stood Jane Barnes, a lively, flaxen-haired, blue-eyed beauty. The slumpy old Scot asked her to join him, and in a “temporary fit of erratic enthusiasm,” she agreed. McTavish and Barnes proceeded to the finest stores in Portsmouth to ready her for the voyage.

She was the source of some intrigue, setting off a battle among no fewer than four men (and they're just the ones mentioned in the history books)--including the scion of the local Chinook leader.

So my question: how is it possible that Fort George does not brew Barnes Bitter? An English barmaid visiting the first settlement in Oregon that happens to be the site of the brewery? Synchronicity, folks--exploit it.

Okay, off to seek more modest adventure--

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.

Small ≠ Craft

Charlie Papazian has long been a champion of small craft breweries. He's made it his life's work to popularize homebrewing and create a market for flavorful, hand-crafted commercial beer. If you were to identify a half-dozen people most responsible for the revival of good beer in the US, Charlie would definitely make the list. If you sense these accolades are a wind-up to a big "but," you're right.

But: the one area where I think Charlie has made a mistake is equating craft beer with small breweries. There are historical and conceptual reasons for this, but both are outdated and increasingly unworkable in a maturing, healthy brewing market. The historical reason, of course, has to do with the consolidation that left the US with around 80 breweries by the early 1980s and helped spark craft brewing. For the pioneers, there was something revolutionary about making quality beer out of wholesome ingredients, and only small breweries were doing it. Conceptually, the idea of hand-crafted beer contrasted sharply with the image of industrial plants pumping out oceans of beer.

Early on, only small breweries made rich, flavorful beer out of natural ingredients. The difference between craft beer and industrial beer was obvious. Problem is, things changed. Now very large breweries make craft beer. Budweiser's American Ale is chemically indistinguishable from ales made by 500-barrel breweries. Some small breweries are owned by big companies (that is, they're not independent), but make exceptional beer. And some small breweries make beer that is chemically indistinguishable from Pabst. Lines have blurred.

Charlie recently conducted a poll to find out whether people agreed with the notion that craft beer is something necessarily produced by small, independent breweries. Despite putting a finger on the poll (he included definitions for "small" and "independent" at the start of the poll) over half

"felt that craft beer could be made by a large brewery or a (small) brewery controlled or fully owned by a large brewery. In other words it didn’t matter whether a brewery was independent of a large brewing company."

That's good news. Good beer has nothing to do with the size of brewery that produced it, despite a strong early correlation. Apparently beer drinkers feel the same way.

When small breweries were just getting started, they had no infrastructure, no resources, and no political juice. When Charlie brought professional organizations on-line, it was instrumental in making the structural changes that allowed small breweries to emerge. Again, critically important. Small breweries still need an organization that gives their collective voice political clout. But that's a political matter. "Craft beer" is a product, distinct from the producer. Hair of the Dog can make it and Budweiser can make it. It would be cool if small, independent breweries all made great beer and large corporations only made sell-out, Vortex-bottled silly beer, but they don't.

The Karl Ockert News

Yesterday afternoon, John Foyston sent the intertubes a buzzing with this story about founding BridgePort brewmaster Karl Ockert:

Karl Ockert founding and longtime brewmaster at BridgePort Brewing Co., and the man who helped make Portland an IPA town is leaving the brewery on July 30.

(A longer version of the story appeared in today's print edition of the paper but is, as usual, not online.)

While I was stunned when I first read the news, it's actually not too surprising. Karl helped found BridgePort nearly 30 years ago. He's had the same address (minus one short period away from the brewery) for all that time. Very few people stay in positions that long. A few of the old-timers who own breweries are still around, but it may be unprecedented for a brewer to have such a long tenure--at least among craft breweries. When you think of the people involved in the beer world when Karl entered, pretty much only the Widmers and McMenamins are still active. Gordon Bowker and Paul Shipman have long been out of Redhook. Art Larrance is at a different brewery and Fred Bowman is out of brewing. Bert Grant died and his brewery is gone. John Harris in onto his third brewery.

I think the news is shocking because many of us appreciate the continuity Karl represents. There's something comforting about having one of the founders still around brewing beer. On the other hand, it makes all kinds of sense. With the new gig, Karl moves on to a new challenge, but still gets to stay in Portland. For him, it's continuity and change.

I don't know how many people relate to BridgePort as the old city brewery like I do. Most think of it as a more impersonal holding of a Texas concern (Gambrinus, which bought BridgePort back in the 90s.) My relationship to the brewery has always been a function of Karl's tenure there. Yeah sure, the guys writing the checks changed, but Karl's the guy brewing the beer. For me, that made it more or less local. After Karl leaves? Hmmm. I guess we'll cross that bridge soon enough.

In any case, good luck, Karl--

PIB's Best Beers Are ... American?

The something-annual Portland International Beerfest (PIB) pulls into the North Park Blocks this weekend. (The event must be at least in its tweens--I seem to recall going in the 90s.) For the student and and fan of international beer styles, it's easily the quickest ways to educate oneself about the standards. More than that, it's an opportunity to see how the trend winds are blowing. I first noticed how Northwest hops had begun to inspire European breweries five years ago (Belgians, per usual, got in on the act first). Barrel-aging, collaboration brewing, imperializing--all of these trends have appeared first at PIB.

Well, here's something to consider: America may now have the greatest density of the world's best breweries. Dunno if you call that a "trend" or not, but it's something. Looking through the list of beers (sortable by country), a thought sprang to mind. If I were forced to only drink the beers of one country, which would it be? No contest--the US. Hell, if I were to choose between domestic and all imports combined, the choice wouldn't be easy. This is in no way to denigrate any other country. Offerings from Belgium, in particular, are looking most appetizing. (Cantillon Lou Pepe Kriek, Jandrain-Jandrenouille IV Saison, Urthel Hop-It headline a nice list.)

But have a look at some of the Yankee selections and see if your mouth doesn't water:

• Firestone Walker Parabola and Double Jack
  
• Old Lompoc Barrel-Aged Doppelbock
• Rogue Deschutes Black Butte XXII
• New Belgium La Folie
• Double Mountain Devil's Kriek and Molten Lava
  
• Cascade Brewing barrel-aged mystery beers
• Walking Man Parade Belgian Pale
• Great Divide Chocolate Oak-Aged Yeti
• Caldera Rose Petal Imperial Golden

We'll never find agreement about "best brewing country," but it's far from absurd to include the US in the conversation. For the first time, I expect about half the beers I sample at PIB will be domestic.

Harvey Pekar, 1939 - 2010

Man, this sucks:

Pekar, 70, was found dead shortly before 1 a.m. today by his wife, Joyce Brabner, in their Cleveland Heights home, said Powell Caesar, spokesman for Cuyahoga County Coroner Frank Miller. An autopsy will be conducted to determine the cause of death. Pekar and his wife, Joyce Brabner, wrote "Our Cancer Year," a book-length comic, after Pekar was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer in 1990 and underwent a grueling treatment.

Pekar was born Oct. 8, 1939, to Saul and Dora Pekar, who had emigrated from Bialystok, Poland. His father, a Talmudic scholar, owned a small grocery store on Kinsman Avenue, and the family -- who included Harvey's younger brother, Allen, a chemist -- lived above the store.

R. Crumb said Pekar's work examined the minutia of everyday life, material "so staggeringly mundane it verges on the exotic." Pekar himself summed it up as revealing "a series of day-after-day activities that have more influence on a person than any spectacular or traumatic events. It's the 99 percent of life that nobody ever writes about."

Pekar was an incredibly fascinating figure, and someone I've long admired. RIP, Harvey.

(Yeah, I know, not about beer. But Harvey Pekar doesn't die every day.)

________________
PHOTO SOURCE

Devil's Kriek and the Joy of Vintages

Beer and wine aren't radically different--both are mildly alcoholic, social beverages that go well with meals--but the people who make them are. Wine makers are steely, artistic types who don't mind impressionistic results. They have some control over aggregate circumstances--where they plant their grapes, which kinds, how they tend them--but the end product comes from the sky. One becomes a wine maker knowing that her company's product will never be the same from one year to the next.

Brewers, of course, prize precision. Although they must contend with the natural environment, they are not controlled by it. They can easily adjust pH, IBUs, and malt bills to adjust for the changes mother nature throws at them.

In much the same way, beer drinkers like consistency. They know that a Pliny the Elder is going to have that insane, piney hop kick every time they buy a bottle. Wine-drinkers appear to love the hunt. They track vintages and wineries, and know that a bottle of Erath pinot from 2005 and 2006 won't taste the same--and which is better.

This is why I admire the annual experiments conducted by Matt Swihart and Ron Gansberg as they make their annual fruit beers. Like wine makers, both are dependent on the quality of the fruit, and neither can replicate beers year to year. Ron has the advantage of being able to select the finest cherry and apricot crops he can find; even still, his beers vary markedly year-to-year. (Two years ago, the Apricot was amazing, but last year, the Kriek was the big winner. I have yet to sample the current vintages.) Matt Swihart has even less control: he uses cherries grown in his own orchard. Like a wine-maker, fruit is destiny, and no two vintages will taste the same.

Last Thursday, Double Mountain debuted their new vintage and I scampered down to Belmont Station to have a pour. Matt is still tinkering with the recipe and process for Devil's Kriek, and in addition to the variance in cherries, the base beer was quite a bit different this year. The original kriek was based on Devil's Kitchen, a golden strong ale; this year, Matt made a brown ale base. The two strands of cherry beers brewed in Belgium are lambics, made on a pale base, and the red/brown beers of Flanders. (You can see it pretty clearly in the photo at right.) Beyond that, he also used about twice the amount of Bing cherries as he did last year.

Yet there's also the matter of the crop. Recall that last year the Northwest produced a record cherry crop, "producing one of the best crops of cherries I have ever seen in my decade as a gentleman farmer," as Matt said. This allowed them to leave the fruit on the tree longer, allowing them to ripen to more intense flavor, create more sugar, and darken the tannin-rich skins.

The combination of great fruit and the new brown ale recipe? Amazing. Darker malts work especially well with cherries. The combination of pit-bitterness and tannin from the skins pull out the nutty, chocolaty flavors from the dark malts. The cherry's flavors marry perfectly with wild-yeast sourness. Together, the deeper, more resonant malts and bright, sharp sour are a perfect combination. Other fruit works with soured ales, but there's a reason breweries come back to cherries. This year's batch of Devil's Kriek hits all these notes. The fruit is especially fresh and intense, and I imagine this will be a rare vintage. Matt sours Devil's Kriek with brettanomyces, but poured cold, the sour isn't particularly funky. As it warms, some of the barnyard aromas begin to emerge, and the sourness softens from bell-like sharpness into a more organic, funky sour.

(I would like to host a symposium some day where I put Matt, Ron, and Rob Tod on a panel together. Matt is a brett man, but eschews lactobacillus. Ron is lacto man, eschewing brett. And Rob is a spontaneous man, daring to dance with pediococcus and other bacteria and funk. All right gentlemen, discuss.)

I wasn't a huge fan of last year's batch, though it pained me to admit it. Of course, that's the nature of the beast. Some years, Matt will spend 14+ months growing fruit and brewing and aging beer only to make an average beer. On the other hand, some years will be like this, when those 14 months produce a world-class beer. The beer fan in me wishes he could figure out a way to make it predictable, but that's not the way with fruit beer. Like crops, some are better than others. We have to live in the moment and enjoy the bounty while it's available. Matt says this batch will be on tap at Double Mountain regularly, probably for the better part of a year. You can also find it at the Portland International Beerfest this weekend. Enjoy it while you can.

¡Viva España!

Last week, I was going to make a big deal about how the two final sides, Germany and Netherlands, were from big beer-brewing countries. But then Spain took out Germany and spoiled my post. And today, they went on to show that beer-brewing and football-kicking are poorly correlated.

I watched the game at the Bagdad, amid some very serious fans, and had a grand old time. I know it's not the kind of game Americans want to see, nil nil until the 117th minute, but there was nevertheless lots of action, and it might well have been 2-2 before they got to extra time. I feel for the poor Dutch, three-time losers, but still, the world has a new champ today. And Spain really did look like the best team out there. Congrats, La Roja, you are a worthy champion.

___________
PHOTO: DYLAN MARTINEZ/REUTERS

Devil's Kriek, Preview of Coming Attractions

I was going to post my thoughts about this year's vintage of Devil's Kriek today, but I was waiting for the brewing notes. In politics, if you release news on Friday afternoon, it's called the "Friday news dump"--that's where you bury unwanted information. So I'll save it for Monday. But meantime, it appears to still be on at Belmont Station, and for you Rose City types, I strongly recommend you have a pour. Your next chance will be PIB next week, but thereafter it will be scarce. Obviously, I thought highly of it.

Puckerfest kicks off today, and Jolly Pumpkin kicks off the fun, so a trip to Belmont's probably in order in any case, right?

Meantime, you can go read Matt Swihart's comments about the beer at the Double Mountain blog.

Kill the OLCC

In today's Oregonian, William Hatcher of A to Z Wineworks argues that it's time to mostly dismember the Oregon Liquor Control Commission. He makes a compelling argument that liquor law enforcement, licensing, and contract liquor stores are all superfluous functions that could be better managed by local government--or done away with altogether.

The one area necessarily remaining the provenance of the agency is statutory regulation of licensee qualifications, sales venues and community protections. That oversight should remain with the OLCC commission, a Senate-confirmed panel of five officials from different congressional districts.

For what it's worth, the OLCC is a vestige of the temperance movement. Some states were very much on-board with Prohibition, and when the 21st Amendment passed, tried to re-consolidate some authority over the sale and general availability of liquor. Like them, Oregon established the OLCC in 1933, convening a special session of the Legislature just nine days after Prohibition's repeal solely for this purpose. States like Oregon became known as "control" states, because they controlled the actual sale of liquor. Both Oregon and Washington are among the 18 remaining control states.

The upshot of all of this is that control agencies are far from critical in the regulation of alcohol, and in fact, only remain in a minority of states. So when Hatcher makes these points, he's effectively arguing for Oregon to modernize our regulatory agency and join the rest of the country.

If all of this fails to convince you that the OLCC is an agency past its expiration date, how about this article from Nick Budnick I missed last month in the Bend Bulletin:

Even as the agency has become a lightning rod for criticism in recent years, records show it has also been dogged by internal allegations of mismanagement, lackadaisical self-regulation and inadequate record-keeping.

Last year, an internal audit that was not released publicly found that OLCC’s licensing of alcoholic beverage retailers — one of the agency’s main functions — had been significantly mismanaged. Its title: “Oregon Liquor Control Commission’s licensing function lacks accountability and effective oversight.”

Budnick details the various problems, so go have a look at the gory details.

Errata

Two quick things. First, note that tonight is the debut of Double Mountain's Devil's Kriek--and the kick-off of the hugely popular Puckerfest--at Belmont Station. (4500 SE Stark) It's a beer that brewer Matt Swihart makes using cherries grown on his own trees; it's been aging for months, since last year's harvest. (Actually, the 2011 vintage has probably already been brewed and readying itself for this year's cherries.)

Second, when I was at Brookston earlier, I noticed (quite belatedly) that San Francisco has organized a group called the Bay Area Beer Bloggers. Why, pray tell, is there no Rose City Beer Bloggers? We should get on that.

Alcohol and Your Health

Over at the Brookston Beer Bulletin, Jay Brooks flags an important report that just came out from the government called "Dietary Guidelines for Americans." (Readers from elsewhere, sorry--you'll have to find your own government report.) I don't want to just steal Jay's thunder, so go over there and read the pieces he highlighted. The upshot is that moderate drinking is associated with positive health outcomes, and also, what constitutes "moderate" is pretty liberal.

For serious wonks who want an even fuller picture of the available data, go read the section of the report on alcohol (.pdf). It is pretty amazing how uniformly modest drinking has positive benefits over non-drinking. Heavy or binge drinking is, unsurprisingly, bad for you. Children and lactating mothers should, unsurprisingly, not drink.

An Oregon Story

Some years ago, a cooler mash tun of mine ended up in a thrasher-friend's possession. I recently sought to reclaim it, dutifully lodging my request. Weeks passed. This weekend, the friend, his father, and his 16-year-old son went crabbing down by Coos Bay. He returned to Portland Monday, and had the bright idea of returning the mash tun to me full of ice and crabs.

The Dungeness crab is native to the West Coast, from Canada down to California. It is a rather humble-looking being, more body than legs, a sunset color. They are feisty, known to scrabble around the bottom of boats rooting for food even as a crabber tries to fit their back with a plastic measure to see whether they're legal. (A handy marking on the bottom, suitably masculine, indicates which gender to save and which to discard. You have to flip them over to see, a practice they resist.) The end is grisly, and not fit discussion for a vegetarian--even a bad one like me.

However, once they arrive at your plate--whether via restaurateur or mash tun--they are delicious. Some crabs taste sharply fishy, others bland. Dungeness are sweet, touched with the brine of the sea. I suppose tastier varieties exist but I haven't encountered them. Last night, Sally and I busted out the mash tun and a couple bottles of my grisette (also known as a petit saison) and started eating. They were absolutely fresh and delicious. I grew up in Idaho, and the idea of eating crab fresh from the sea, straight, without need of interceding sauces or sides, still leaves me a little delirious. Fantastic.

Of course, the mash tun is a lost cause. I may salvage the manifold, but that remains to be seen. It was worth it.

Is Our Kids Drinking?

An email this morning alerts me to a story by the website "Best Colleges Online" about the top cheap beers for the discerning, impoverished college student. Paying passing lip-service to the virtues of not getting hammered, the story goes on to list the top ten cheap beers. You don't have to be an A student to grasp the subtext.

Now. I am an old man and as such, grow fuddier by the day. I understand that beer is to college kids what soccer is to Brazil. I am not foolish. Indeed, my own college years were dampened by the occasional can of Hamm's. However, there is a substantial difference between tolerating and encouraging. The freedom of college means the freedom to choose, and college students will choose whatever mind-expanding substances they can find. But here's a suggestion: why not encourage Kant rather than Keystone Light? College kids are smart enough to find cheap beer without encouragement. Kant? I'm not so sure.

Humulus Sativa

Yesterday afternoon, after a fantastic hike in the Columbia River Gorge, Sally and I retired to the Full Sail Taproom. It's been years since I've dropped in (blame Double Mountain, Big Horse, and Walking Man), and I was reminded not to let such a lapse happen again. As we sat and enjoyed the beer, we had a view of the windsurfers scooting along the whitecaps out on the river. A top-five location for brewery views.

In any case, I tried Spotless, the new Brewmaster Reserve beer. Actually, I had another pint of the Dunkopple first, and I really enjoyed it. If you don't get hung up on style, and instead behold its deep, cranberry hue and revel in those delicate Citra hops, you'll have a grand old time. Consider this one vote for bumping it up to the LTD line--04 anyone?

Following that, I went on to the Spotless. Wow--what a nose. I was instantly reminded of Racer 5, a beer smelling no less pungent than a hazy dorm room. I believe we used to describe that aroma as "stanky." The flavor was much the same--sticky, gooey, and fresh, but in a very specific, Rastafarian direction. The waitress told me it was hopped with Zeus, a genetic twin of the Columbus deployed in Racer 5. Aha!

It solves one mystery. I'd wondered if Bear Republic produced the quality through the alchemy of all their hops. Nope, it comes from that strain, and it comes through loud and clear. (Hops are, of course, close cousins to cannabis sativa--marijuana--but apparently, some hops express this kinship more clearly than others.) I thoroughly enjoyed the beer, as did Sally, but it felt a little transgressive drinking it. I kept waiting to get busted. My guess--you'll like it, too.

Events Calendar

Craft Beer Month, though much poo-poohed by the blogorazzi, nevertheless has a number of cool events. The pick of this week's litter:

Today, July 6
Taplister One-Year Anniversary.
The Hop & Vine, 7-9:30
1914 N. Killingsworth St.

This is really more a victory lap than a major event (though swag is on offer). The app began in Portland but has now expanded to a number of different cities. Good job, folks.


Wednesday, July 7
MacTarnahan's Firkin Tapping.
Taproom, 2730 NW 31st, 4-9pm

Periodically, Mac's taps a cask of their flagship, and it's well worth a trip out to the Taproom to try it out. Few beers sparkle on cask like MacTarnahan's. Brewers Tom Bleigh and Vasilios Gletsos will be on hand to tap the firkin.


Thursday, July 8
Double Mountain Devil's Kriek Release
Belmont Station, 4500 S.E. Stark, 5-8pm
Cash only.

Not every beer release gets a mention here, but not every beer uses fruit from the brewer's orchard. Matt Swihart lovingly grows his own cherries, then matures them for months at the brewery. The newest vintage will be available alongside last year's (now two-year old) vintage.


Friday, July 8 - Thursday, July 15
Puckerfest
Belmont Station, 4500 S.E. Stark

Even the blogorazzi admit this is one of the coolest events of the year. Schedule of releases here.

Upright Barrel-Aged Seven Release
240 N. Broadway, Portland, 4:30-9pm

This batch of Seven has been barrel-aged with rose hips, rose petals, and hibiscus. Sounds tasty.

Do Women Taste Better Than Men?

Of course they do: like cream and honey. Men taste like old socks.

Seriously, though, more and more, the beer world is coming around to the idea that women may have better palates than men. Via British beer writer Melissa Cole comes this recent story in the Sun:

Beer giant SABMiller, responsible for brands including Peroni, Grolsch and Nastro Azzurro, say 30 per cent of their 1,000 advanced-level tasters are now lasses. That's four times more than just ten years ago....

Studies have found the fairer sex is the superior sex when it comes to detecting the undesirable chemicals that make beer taste stale and fusty.

This definitely squares with my experience. Women seem to have a better critical apparatus for detecting and describing flavors, and they seem to appreciate a wider spectrum of flavors. But I wonder, is it nature or nurture? The Sun suggests biology:

It is thought their more sensitive palate is the result of increased numbers of fungiform papillae - the tiny structures on the tongue that house our tastebuds.

One theory is that evolution has played a role - for centuries men hunted while females prepared food and, to protect their families, had to check if it was tainted, off or even poisonous.

But behavior may be a major factor, too. In the US, it is still the case that women are more oriented toward cooking and food. Three-quarters of the readers of Bon Appétit are women, and some large percentage of food writers are women. I don't think this is purely based on the number of fungiform papillae women possess, either. For women, the culture of eating involves the sensuality of food. Women revel in the luxury of taste. Men have a cruder sense of food and beverage--for them, it's more about quantity than quality. A pile of brats and a cooler of beer is generally a crowd-pleaser among a group of men. Generalities, sure, but that's often a clue.

Beer tasting, above all else, requires attention. Slugging it back in two-ounce gulps does not open one to the complexities of taste and aroma. Women, who are already interested in investigating flavor, bring this attention to beer. They are predisposed to actually taste it. This is just a theory, but I think women who come to good beer are generally well ahead of their male counterparts in knowing how to explore and identify flavors.

If there is some biology involved, I wonder if it has to do with liking different flavors than men. Just as general categories, if we talk about the five flavors--sour, bitter, sweet, salty, and umami--do men and women tilt one way or another? I think so. In my experience, men are drawn to umami and salt, women to sweet and sour. Bitter--about equal. If this is true, it would suggest that women find different styles of beers more tasty than others. It wouldn't necessarily mean women are better tasters, but different.

I throw it out to you (and particularly the women): are women better tasters? How so?


Update. Alan, failing to find the data in my post he wished to see, went and found some. A nice, sciencey addition to the discussion.

Forget Tea, Beer Made the Revolution

If it weren't for beer, would our quarters now sport the Queen? Maybe. Revolution was forged by homebrewers over pints of ale in Boston's Green Dragon Tavern. Sure, it's tea they dumped into Boston Harbor, but it was beer that fueled their seditious schemes. In honor of their pluck, I offer you a recipe from the man who does appear on the quarter--the first President, and truly a brewer patriot.

To make Small Beer

Take a large Sifter full of Bran Hops to your Taste. — Boil these 3 hours. Then strain out 30 Gallons into a Cooler, put in 3 Gallons Molasses while the Beer is scalding hot or rather drain the molasses into the Cooler & strain the Beer on it while boiling Hot. Let this stand till it is little more than Blood warm. Then put in a quart of Yeast if the weather is very cold, cover it over with a Blanket & let it work in the Cooler 24 hours. Then put it into the Cask — leave the Bung open till it is almost done working — Bottle it that day Week it was Brewed.

Cheers and happy Independence Day, countrymen!

_____________
Text and photo, New York Public Library

End of Civilization (2)

My eye gleamed when I saw that CBS had named the "Five Best Beers in America"--and all were from Portland. Until, that is, I read the slugline:

All Are From Nation's "Brewery Capital," Portland, Ore., a.k.a. "Brewvana"!

Brewvana? Hey, great reporting, CBS. I see the standards of Murrow and Cronkite are alive and well. To be fair, they get it right in the actual story text. On the other hand, they also give Oregon credit for starting the "whole brewpub movement," a fact to which Bert Grant would have strenuously objected. In his stead, I object for the good people of the Evergreen State. And to be further unfair, not by the most generous definition can Newport be said to be a part of Portland. Thus the top five are are really from Oregon: Widmer Hefeweizen, Full Sail Session, Deschutes Green Lakes Organic, BridgePort IPA, and Rogue Dead Guy.

Something Completely Different

I should be scaring up a fascinating post about beer now--I had actually hoped to address the question of whether the OLCC was necessary--but I'm too busy pondering soccer football. In the just-completed match between Ghana and Uruguay, we witnessed an amazing ending. The game was tied 1-1 at the end of regulation and therefore into extra time--two 15-minute periods. Right at the end of the second extra period, Ghana earned a free kick. The last grains of sand were heading for the hourglass's neck, making this the last action of the game. If Ghana failed to score, it was onto penalty kicks, which appeared to favor striker-rich Uruguay and their battle-tested goalkeeper.

Ghana arched a ball in front of the goal and one of their players rattled it off the keeper--but it was still loose. A second shot from just a few feet out would be good, but Suarez, a Uruguayan player--not the keeper--illegally defended with his hands. Red card! Penalty kick! But alas, Asamoah Gyan, in a chance to end it there, missed the goal. Ghana went on to lose in penalty kicks. Below is a recap; relevant highlights start at 2:15.

For those who don't watch soccer, and who profess that it's not worth watching, this is the soccer fan's rebuttal. A terrible ending for Black Star fans, but vivid competition.

End of Civilization Alert

I still get carded from time to time when I buy beer at a grocery store. At 42, I sort of enjoy it. Having lapped the legal age of drinking, I like to think I remain youthful-looking enough to pass for a 20-something. But maybe not:

Last year at a Nets game at the Izod Center, I went to buy sausages while my son, Jack, headed for the beer counter. Jack, who is in his early 40s and starting to gray, soon joined me in the sausage line, explaining his wallet was in the car and he couldn’t buy beer without an ID. After we got our food, I went to the beer line, showed my ID and left with two drafts. At halftime I headed back for another round, and this time a lady at the counter asked me to take my New York State driver’s license out of the plastic window in the wallet and hand it to her.

“Why?” I asked.

“To make sure it hasn’t expired.”

If my license had, in fact, expired, would that mean I was no longer 71? Would I then be, miraculously, too young to buy beer legally?

If someone born in the 1930s can be turned away from the concessions stand for trying to buy a $27 plastic glass of Budweiser, the world has gone mad.

Four for Craft Beer Month

Last week, I was invited to attend what turned out to be a blogger-scarce tour of four breweries who tomorrow unveil beers for Craft Beer Month. Jacob Grier (that's him on the left in the photo on the right, below) and Jason Wallace were the other lucky proles--the rest were the, ahem, real media. Before we get to the beers, let me mention the transportation. This little baby:











It goes by the unfortunate name of Double Decker PDX, and is the conceit of a couple of kids who just graduated from UO. A 1959 Bristol Lodekka outfitted with plush seats and fridges (sorry, no bar), you can rent it and go on a pub crawl or take it to wine country. Dunno if the business model pens out, but it's a sweet (if bumpy) ride. I'd probably call it Rosey or something a bit more distinctive, but hey.

Now to the beer.

Our tour began at the Pilsner Room, where an outrageous number of the group admitted they'd never been. If you are in their dubious company, do yourself a favor and head down. In any case, the beer was Full Sail Dunkopple, the latest in their Brewer's Share series. It is ostensibly a dunkel, crafted by Kristy Holsopple, a lovely lab supervisor originally from Cincinnati. Because lagers are still king in the Midwest, Kristy was reminded of this gentle, sessionable style. Alas, Kristy has been Oregonized, and the resulting beer is something like a cross between a pale ale and a dunkel. Which means, of course, that it's quite pleasant and should be a major crowd-pleaser. Traditionalists will naturally chafe. (5.2%, 30 IBU, hopped with Citra and Mt. Hood)

Next we traveled to Rock Bottom, where Van Havig rocked my world when he described his Nugget, Cascade, Simcoe, Amarillo, and Centennial-hopped American Dream IPA this way: "It has that canned grapefruit-juice quality. Kinda metallic and harsh. I love that." He later described it as "not that bitter." I almost want to not say anything myself, but demand that everyone go down and try it first. Almost. Instead, I'll say instead that it is indeed that bitter, and the description as a harsh, tinned bitterness is right on, too. What rocks my world is that Van likes it that way. Of course, I know many IPA fans do, too. I guess you know who you are. If I travel with any of you there, I will instead order the far more subtle kolsch I mentioned earlier.

The next stop was to the warm, still-aired Lompoc Sidebar, where were were offered a snifter of Big Bang Red. A version of Proletariat Red brewed in 2009, it was aged in four different bourbon barrels with an additional part left in the tank. Everything was re-blended together. It is a massively boozy beer that seems far stronger than the stated 8.1% (trust me, not that number--it was north of ten). It picks up lots of bright flavors--bourbon, vanilla, and oak. It's a pretty tasty beer now, but brash and green. I think another year would soften it and burnish those flavors a bit.

The final stop was Widmer where we tried more gose. This goddam city is lousy with goses.* Seriously--two years ago, you couldn't have convinced me there would have been two different versions of goses brewed here. (One I might have bought.) Widmer is the third brewery to take up the style, and the two they've brewed are the sixth and seventh (!) in the last year. Doing their homework, Widmer has brewed up a Goslar-style and Leipzig-style gose. Both are wheat beers made with a lactic zing, salt, and coriander. (The river Gose flows through the town of Goslar and gives the style its name. The Goslar breweries used salty water, responsible for the unique flavor. Major production ultimately shifted 100 miles away, to Leipzig.)

Widmer Odin, the Goslar-style, is getting the major release. I somehow missed the description of why, but it is made without lactobacillus, making it much more like a Belgian wit. (Did the Goslar breweries somehow have purer strains of yeast? How did the Widmers discover this?) They also poured us their Leipzig-style, which seems quite traditional to me, and mighty tasty. Let us hope that it gets a release, too.

So thems the beers, but only the kick-off beers. Over the course of the next month, breweries are going to release sortie after sortie of new releases. Get ready, here it is: Craft Beer Month begins...

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*That's a sentence I'll never have the chance to write again.