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Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Puckerfest Update

Belmont station has now posted the puckerfest lineup. On tap now:
  • Cantillon - Vigneronne
  • New Belgium - La Folie
  • Dogfish - Festina Peche
  • Cascade - Flander's Red
  • Full Sail - Belmont Blend #1
  • Verhaeghe - Echte Kriekenbier
  • Lucky Lab - Belgian Sour Cherry
Coming soon:
  • Double Mountain - Devil's Kriek
  • BJ's Portland - Enfant Terrible
  • Rock Bottom Portland - Ned Flanders
  • Liefman's - Kriek
  • Cascade - Brewing Cuvee
  • Walking Man - Blootvoeste Bruin
Full descriptions at the blog. I'll be headed over tonight.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

PIB 2008, The Great Beers

For the beer fan who wants to increase her knowledge of world beer styles, there are few opportunities that offer so many landmark classics as the Portland International Beerfest. Most of the beers brewed in Oregon can trace their lineage backward to Europe and a traditional, local style. Knowing what the originals taste like is useful not only in undertanding the style, but in appreciating the innovation or original flourish you find in a local beer based on that style.

I don't often refer to these in my previews because so much has already been written. That's probably short-sighted, though. Few will have tried all these (including me), and it's worth mentioning something about the style why the beer's important. So here we go.

Rochefort 6 (Belgium)
There are only seven Trappist breweries in the world, and they brew what are loosely refered to as Abbey ales. The adjective "Trappist" is specific--the brewery must be overseen by actual Cistercian monks. Breweries that brew abbey ales or are resident in former abbeys cannot legally call themselves "Trappist." Brewing at the monastery dates back to 1595, and the monks of Abbaye Notre-Dame de Saint-Remy still brew their beer, in three styles, 6 (red cap), 8 (green cap), and 10 (blue cap). The ten is the most commonly exported, and the 6 the least, just 1% of production--so this is a rare opportunity. The 6 is a reddish dubbel, lighter than the 8 or 10. I've yet to try it.

Konigshoeven ("La Trappe") Quadrupel (Holland)
Another of the Trappist breweries, and the only brewing monastery outside Belgium. By tradition, the styles of abbey ales range in strength from a small ale to dubbel (double), tripel, and quadrupel. From Konigshoeven we have the quad, which weighs in at 10%.

Schneider-Weisse (Germany)
Possibly the oldest brewery producing wheat beers, Schneider's brewery dates back to 1607. If you've only every had Northwest Hefeweizen, try this beer (or Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse) for a re-education. These beers are amazingly tasty--soft on the palate, fresh, effervescent, and redolent with cloves and spice that comes from the high fermentation temperatures. They are perfect summer beers, and I enjoy them regularly.

Oktoberfest (Ur-Marzen) (Germany)
In German, "Ur" means original, and Spaten lays claim to having brewed the first Marzen, or Vienna-style lager. First brewed in 1871 by Josef Sedlmayr, it has the characteristic malty/spicy quality that has made this style so famous. Originally, the beer was brewed in March (Marzen) and aged through the summer. It is now aged 14 weeks and is rounded and richer than some more modern versions. If you try it, do so early, because none of the flavors are bold enough to stand up to a hop-clouded palate.

Liefmans Kriek (Belgium)
The style "kriek" is now starting to become known to American drinkers, but this beer will fool you if you're expecting a lambic kriek. Liefmans is the standard-bearer for a sweet-and-sour ale known variously as Flanders or Flemish Brown or Oud Bruin. "Kriek" means cherry, and old and young browns are blended at the addition of cherries before a secondary fermentation. The result is more cherry than brown, but delicious. I haven't had one since before Liefmans financial troubles, so I will be interested to see how they're holding up.

Belhaven Wee Heavy (Scotland)
Belhaven is substantially older than the US, founded in 1719. Despite this, it is not well-known in the US, and I've never had the pleasure of finding any. Belhaven is a traditional brewery producing two classic Scottish styles, 80 Shilling and Wee Heavy, the top ends of the continuum in terms of strength (like the Abbey system, the beers run weak to strong from 60 Shilling to Wee Heavy). Belhaven's Wee Heavy is on the very bottom end for strength--6.5%.

Aventinus Eisbock (Germany)
What's stronger than a doppelbock? A doppel distilled. The way it works is this: when you partially freeze a beer, the part that ices up is water--remove that ice ("eis"), and you have an eisbock. Aventinus is one of the most famous, and Michael Jackson once wrote that in the beer garden of eden, the forbidden fruit would taste like Aventinus Eisbock. Do superlatives run higher than that?

Boon Kriek (Belgium)
Frank Boon (pronounced something like "Bone") proves you don't have to have an old brewery to brew a world classic. He founded his brewery after many Oregon micros, in 1989. Nevertheless, I believe he brews the finest lambics in the world. It is a totally traditional lambic brewery, and all his beers are spontaneously fermented--that is, he adds no yeast and lets nature take its funky course with his beer. Kriek is a blend of old and young lambic with a healthy addition of cherries. If you've never had a lambic, you must try this beer--it will radically alter the way you think about beer.

Others
Those are not the only world classics pouring at the fest. I did not include those readily available in town: Chimay (another Belgian Trappist), Pilsner Urquell (the "ur" in Urquell denotes the status of this original Bohemian pilsner from the Czech republic), Saison Dupont (the standard for Belgian farmhouse ales), Duchesse de Bourgogne (the exquisitely balanced Flanders Red), Coniston Bluebird Bitter (apparently the bottled version, which is stronger and less interesting than the wonderful draft version) Samuel Smith's Imperial Stout (one of the most traditional stouts, and the only English stouts available in the US 20 years ago). If any of these beers is on tap, don't hesitate to try them. If I were to assemble a list of the ten best beers in the world, Chimay Blue, Saison Dupont, and possibly Pilsner Urquell would be on it. These are great beers.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Puckerfest

This is sort of a call-out to the guys from Belmont Station to enlighten us about which beers will be pouring for Puckerfest (which starts today). The website offers what looks like an impressionistic list rather than an actual lineup: Cantillon, Verhaeghe , Liefmans, BJs Portland, New Belgium, Dogfish Head, Six Rivers, Double Mountain, Cascade, Roots, Walking Man, Full Sail...

Anytime you have a chance to try Cantillon or Liefmans on tap, you shouldn't miss it. Even more rare is the opportunity to try these beers alongside the nouveau Belgians brewed here in the New World? Look out Brussels or not yet ready for prime time--you be the judge.

So what's up, Belmont Stationers? What's on tap?

As an FYI, I'm busily working on a preview of the Portland International Beerfest, so look for that, probably in segments, this week. As always, you absolutely shouldn't miss it. So clear a day....

Saturday, July 12, 2008

The Livin' is Easy (Schwelmer Pils)

I went to a mid-July barbecue after work last night, that most languid and familiar celebration of the heat and length of days. People had brought an equally familiar range of beers along: Deschutes Mirror Pond, Full Sail Session, Sierra Nevada Pale. There were even a few Private Reserves floating around. These are all good beers (even the Hanks, in which the sweet flavor of nostalgia overwhelms the more insipid qualities of the lager), and compared to what you'd have found a generation ago on back porches, we certainly have nothing to complain about.

This is not a climate of extreme heat, though, and even our mildest beers are cloaked in the malt and hops that will satisfy on cloudy 60 degree June days. As a result, we have failed to exploit one brewing niche that brewers some hot regions offer--the German-style pilsner.

The original Bohemian (Czech) pilsners are fairly serious beer--and one of my favorite styles. They generally weigh in at just 5%, but they have fairly high residual sugars, giving the beer body and heft. And then of course, there are the famous spicy Saaz hops, generally as sharp as we like them here on the West Coast. An amazing style, but like our summer beers, they are not ideal for a back yard session.

German pilsners differ in that they are drier and slightly less hoppy. They are no less strong, but lack the body of the Czech cousins and so seem lighter. The hopping is generally milder, too--definitely strong enough to delight the tongue but, like our pale ales, not aggressively bitter.

A summer beer needs to be no less flavorful than any other beer, it just needs to be light and refreshing. But so often, to get the "light," breweries offer a watery, uninteresting beer. It's fine on a hot day, and maybe even preferable to something heavier and tastier, but it's not ideal.

I recently tried a Schwelmer Pils, and in it found exactly the beer I wish was readily available in sixers here. It would have been perfect last night. It is light, but wonderful rich with flavor and aroma. The nose is floral almost to the point of being perfumy; I even detect a note of honey, which enhances the overall summery vibe. The malt is perfectly clean (it's a German beer, after all), but there is just the smallest touch of biscuity, honeyish sweetness. The hops are not strong but varied, with herbal notes, peppery spice, and that floral quality evident in the noes. It is crisp and dry at the finish, which is where the beer earns its hot-weather stripes. Heavier beers end with a fuller note--sometimes resinous, if they're hoppy--and this does not cool and refresh.

We have grown accustomed to thinking of light pilsners as a compromise, a product of marketing rather than brewing. But it doesn't have to be this way. Make a beer like Schwelmer Pils, and barbecuers will beat a path to your door.

Friday, July 11, 2008

InBev-Anheuser Busch Deal Back On

Hmmm...
The King of Beers is moving closer to wearing a foreign crown. After a week of contentious wrangling that included lawsuits and Securities and Exchange Commission filings, Anheuser-Busch, according to published reports and people who have been briefed, has engaged Belgian brewing giant InBev on a $70-per-share, nearly $50 billion deal to buy the company.

The St. Louis-based parent of Budweiser beer has been working for six weeks in a campaign to discourage InBev (BusinessWeek.com, 7/10/08), line up politicians to oppose the deal, and convince shareholders that a takeover by InBev, which markets brands like Stella Artois, Bass, and Beck's, is not in the best interest of the company or their investments. But a sweetened offer and mounting pressure on A-B management have brought the two companies to actual negotiations.
The Busch family, who own only 4% of the stock, are helpless to stop it. Analysts expect the deal to be done this weekend. As I've mentioned before, this seems uniformly like a bad thing. Strangely, as I read the news, my mind went to Nelson Muntz, perhaps meanly. "Ha Ha, you failed to protect your quintessentially American brand and now a bunch of Flemish-speaking Belgians have purchased your corporation!"

Well, the Label's Cool

I know that I didn't give Stumptown Tart much love, but I gotta say, BridgePort's new Big Brew series has wonderful labels. Next up is Hop Czar, which I'll be trying next week. In addition to just looking very cool (I would very much like to own a hop scepter like the Czar wields), it also recalls the source of all this imperializing. Back in the late 18th Century, British brewers began sending extra-strong versions of their stout to Russia. The traditional explanation for the style's strength was for survival in a ship's hold, but thanks to current debunking, I'm wary of it. Might it not be that Russians just like their alcohol strong, dark, and intense? Or that only something robust would serve for export to a royal foreign court? In any case, it did actually go to the Czars--this much is documented. (Note: historically, there wasn't a distinction between porter and stout.)
The best-known brewer of export stout was Thrale’s Anchor Brewery in the parish [district] of Southwark, a mile or two up river from the Courage site. In 1796 Thrale’s supplied porter "that would keep seven years" to the Empress of Russia. The author of The History and Antiquities of the Parish of St. Saviour, Southwark, said of Thrale’s beer at that time, "The reputation and enjoyment of Porter is by no means confined to England. As proof of the truth of this assertion, this house exports annually very large quantities; so far extended are its commercial connections that Thrale’s Entire [a contemporary name for porter] is well known, as a delicious beverage, from the frozen regions of Russia to the burning sands of Bengal and Sumatra. The Empress of All Russia is indeed so partial to Porter that she has ordered repeatedly very large quantities for her own drinking and that of her court."
So with Hop Czar, BridgePort brings a little history and perspective to the nouveau style of imperial IPAs. If the beer's anywhere near as good as the label is cool, we're in for a treat.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Sixty Bucks of Beer

You may have noticed that the price of a bottle of Trillium Absinthe, mentioned yesterday, was sixty bucks. It so happens that a couple three days ago I spent the same sum on beer--during the spree that brought me the Dogfish Head IPA. You've seen the picture of the Trillium, now have a look at the beer.


As I mentioned, I'm not a spirits guy, but come on, isn't it clear which was the better deal (no offense to the good folks at Integrity). I had the Schwelmer last night ... thoughts to come.

Beer Is Not Political

Beer, innately apolitical, finds its way into politics on a fairly regular basis. Our country's revolution was fomented in Boston's Green Dragon Tavern, over pints of cask ale. Cool. But in 1923, Hitler tried to use a gathering at the Bürgerbräukeller, a Munich beer hall, to overthrow the government. Not cool. You see, it's not so much that beer favors one political view or another, but that as the people's drink, it is regularly present when the disaffected are plotting rebellion. It's an accelerant, you could say.

Well, in today's column, George Will says more. He uses beer as a prop in a fairly standard conservative description of society, describing it as "essential," and borrowing beer's natural street cred to bolster his. He takes a fact that you probably already know--beer was useful in preventing disease in the middle ages because to make it brewers boiled the water--and then goes in a slightly odd direction:
To avoid dangerous water, people had to drink large quantities of, say, beer. But to digest that beer, individuals needed a genetic advantage that not everyone had -- what Johnson describes as the body's ability to respond to the intake of alcohol by increasing the production of particular enzymes called alcohol dehydrogenases. This ability is controlled by certain genes on chromosome four in human DNA, genes not evenly distributed to everyone. Those who lacked this trait could not, as the saying goes, "hold their liquor." So, many died early and childless, either of alcohol's toxicity or from waterborne diseases.

The gene pools of human settlements became progressively dominated by the survivors -- by those genetically disposed to, well, drink beer. "Most of the world's population today," Johnson writes, "is made up of descendants of those early beer drinkers, and we have largely inherited their genetic tolerance for alcohol."

Johnson suggests, not unreasonably, that this explains why certain of the world's population groups, such as Native Americans and Australian Aborigines, have had disproportionately high levels of alcoholism: These groups never endured the cruel culling of the genetically unfortunate that town dwellers endured.
Beer, he concludes, is health food. To drive home the point, he launches this unprovoked broadside: "And you do not need to buy it from those wan, unhealthy-looking people who, peering disapprovingly at you through rimless Trotsky-style spectacles, seem to run all the health food stores."

For Will, the history of beer is one that perfectly confirms his conservative worldview. Man is innately competitive, and there are winners and losers. This is natural and wholesome, because the winners must surely hold advantages intellectual or at least physical, that aid survival. It is the same principle that guides the free market, which he extolls in his lede: "Perhaps, like many sensible citizens, you read Investor's Business Daily for its sturdy common sense in defending free markets and other rational arrangements."

Will is entitled to his political worldview, but please leave beer out of it. This is causality run backward to justify love of beer. But as a confirmed commie who also loves beer (I suspect I love better beer than Will, but that's another post), I could easily run a tale of causality backward that shows how the communal nature of beer supported the development of political systems devoted to cooperation and equality. In the town tavern, we are all equal before the beer. So it is with democracy. Marx and Engels were German, after all. Coincidence?

(I could even trace this thread backward and launch a specious attack on native Americans. You see, since they lacked beer, they lacked pubs, natural democratizing public spaces, which of course meant they never developed democracy.)

Let us happily drag beer into our politics, but please, let us not drag politics to our beer.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Trillium Absinthe

It's not beery, but let me draw your attention to an article in today's Oregonian about the newest offering from microdistillery Integrity Spirits: Trillium Absinthe.

Perhaps it was best to take my first taste of absinthe on a hearty Oregon afternoon in July. Sunlight seems suitable inoculation against the potion's legendary sorcery.

My guides were Kieran Sienkiewicz and Rich Phillips, owners of Integrity Spirits, a Southeast Portland micro-distillery making artisanal vodka, gin and now the once-banned absinthe. Come this weekend, they will become the first in Oregon and the second in the nation to bottle and sell the mystique-laden drink, known for centuries as the green fairy....

At the start of the 20th century, the French wine industry pushed its government to ban absinthe. Other countries in Europe followed, and the U.S. ban was applied in 1912. On the fundamental rule of human behavior that something forbidden must be sampled, thousands of tourists visited Spain and other countries that still made and served absinthe....

Last year, the United States recognized that fact by lifting the ban. An Alameda, Calif., distiller was first to market. Sienkiewicz and Phillips said Integrity Spirits is the second with a product ready for sale.

Trillium Absinthe Superieure is expected to be in Oregon liquor stores by the weekend. Cost: $59.95 a bottle.

If you'd like to read a truly fascinating account of absinthe, I can direct you to an article from a couple years ago by Jack Turner in the New Yorker.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Dogfish Head 90-Minute IPA versus Beervana

I have begun translating my March Madness winnings into beer (explanation here). Mostly I invested in foreigns and mostly, I confess, in Belgians (I should be more ecumenical, but ...). One domestic I did buy is the much lauded Dogfish Head 90-Minute IPA. Everyone loves it. Esquire called it "perhaps the best I.P.A. in America." Zymurgy didn't stop there, and instead called it "the best commercial beer in America." Raters on both Ratebeer and Beer Advocate give it top marks. In other words, next stop: Transcendence.

Pah.

Dogfish Head has three versions of its IPA, identified by the length of time they infuse the boil with hops. The 90-minute weighs in at 9% and 90 IBUs. Along the East Coast it is renowned for how extreme it is, particularly those 90 IBUs. What I admired about the beer is that the long boil seats the hop flavor into the caramelly maltiness so that the perception of depth is enhanced. Unlike the East Coasters who regard it as cosmically hoppy, I found it leaning in the direction of a barleywine, emphasis on the malt and alcohol. The hops are roughed up during that long boil, and their more evanescent qualities are lost in the boil or kept hidden under the iron fist of the malt and alcohol. I'm not a huge barleywine fan, but as barleywines go, it's a nice version. But it's hardly exceptional, and for a proud and loyal resident of Beervana, all this swooning over an above-average beer looks a little silly.

The Northwest is the furthest region from population centers of our country's founding. The generations of immigrants to Oregon have shared the desire to want to get away from home, and they had to do something more than wander here--they had to want to come. We are too far away and too small to attract the attention of the nation (except Seattle, which is largely misrepresented), and this provokes in us a strong ambivalence. We don't wish to attract attention to our little paradise, because that runs the risk of attracting immigrants who don't understand what makes it a paradise. On the other hand, when you live in paradise, you chafe when the rest of the world fails to acknowledge it.

So it is with beer. I am confident that only Belgium rivals Oregon for the variety of beer, broad availability, and penetration into the consciousness of the residents. But our beers don't leave the Northwest, and when they do, they meet perplexed reception by those who do not have the appreciation and sophistication of our drinkers. On that "Best Commercial Beers" list, 50 in all, there are only three Oregon beers--all from Rogue, the only brewery with national distribution. None rank higher than 34, and that beer is Dead Guy, a decent beer that almost no one in Beervana would call Oregon's best. Yet to the brain trust in Colorado, this is our pièce de résistance.

It's the cross we bear. Our beer is the best, but like our region, no one knows or will or can ever acknowledge it. To the rest of the country, we have the delusions of grandeur typical of parochial backwaters where people just don't know better. And since there are so many parochial backwaters where the locals have delusions of grandeur, I don't blame em.

Fair enough, but I'm still saying Dogfish Head is a good but forgettable beer. A solid B but nothing more. Take that, Delaware!

Monday, July 07, 2008

Duvel Buys Liefmans

Moortgat, the company that makes Duvel, has agreed to buy Liefmans.

Liefmans has been in existence since Jacob Liefmans established his brewery in Oudenaarde in 1770, but the brewery declared bankruptcy and stopped production in late 2007.

Duvel acquired a large portion of the assets of Liefmans, including all the machinery, all brands and recipes. According to a company press release, Duvel will concentrate on Liefmans brown ales and fruit beers brewed in Oudenaarde. Several of the beers have gone back in production and will return to distribution in the near future.

Duvel remains in negotiation for the real estate in Oudenaarde and will invest to revitalize the production site and the well-known visitors’ center when the acquisition is complete. The price of the transaction, including real estate, is 4.5 million euros, or $7.1 million.

Unlike many of the other mergers I've mentioned recently, this is probably good news. Liefmans makes Flemish (or Flanders) brown ale, and is pretty much the only extant commercial example still brewing in Belgium (there are others, but in few cases is one brewery so closely linked to a style). Despite what the article says, Jackson writes that the brewery in Oudenaarde goes back to 1679--a hundred years before Jacob Liefmans bought it--based on tax records he has personally examined. Like some of the other historic breweries of Belgium, this is an international treasure, a brewing museum, and would have been a catastrophic loss had it not been plucked up. That Moortgat, a small fish dedicated to brewing high-end beer, snapped it up instead of InBev, could one day be regarded as a stroke of miraculous fortune.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Deschutes Wit

The July cavalcade of beers continues with the release of Deschutes' latest annual celebration, 20th Anniversary Wit. It also marks a continuing trend for Deschutes--into the wild, wonderful world of Belgian ales. Last year they made a strong golden for their anniversary, and they have a Leifmans-style kriek in the works for later this year. This isn't a small deal; Deschutes is the consummate English-ales brewery, offering world class versions of porter, pale ale, brown, stout, and IPA. But the foray into Belgians has been mixed bag. The inaugural effort wasn't a winner, so I came to the Wit with hope and worry.

Style History
As with many extant world styles, understanding Belgian wit ("white") beer means learning some history. An ancient style, it dates back to the 1500s and to a region east of Brussels known for oats and wheat. Oats are less common in the modern iteration, but wheat--50% or more of the grist--characterizes the style and contributes the milky whiteness of the name. But what really distinguishes the style is the use of coriander and peels from the oranges of the distant Caribbean Island of Curacao. This seems just bizarre until you learn that at the time Hoegaarden was a part of Holland, so the use of spices brought back by boats from the Dutch West Indies Company wasn't so strange after all.

Witbiers are the most commonly-brewed of the Belgian styles, and because there's great latitude to the style--variation in the grist, use of different spices--it's an opportunity for breweries to go for originality. It's a pretty easy style to brew, yet excellence is elusive. When it's made well, it's a huge crowd pleaser--I've encountered very few people who don't like a good wit. So does Deschutes meet the challenge?

Tasting Notes
The appearance is classic wit--straw-pale, but milky, a nice bead and a snowy head. Hoegaarden villagers wouldn't blink if this were plopped down in front of them. Fortunately, this isn't a clone--Deschutes has taken the opportunity to make the style their own. The aroma is faint with coriander and a fresh, baked-bread wheatiness. Many wits slam you with orange, but Deschutes goes for balance. The classic flavors of a wit are here, coriander (which is the source of the orange flavor, not the Curacao orange peel, which contributes the astringency) and some other herbal notes that don't resolve into obvious spices (the brewery identifies grains of paradise, but I can't). I believe there's some phenols here, not usual, but appropriate in this beer. It accentuates the wheat, which plays a larger role here than in some wits. A nice interpretation that offers gentle sweetness and an overall softness on the palate. It ends crisply, but not over-dry, which is a danger in the style.

I give the beer very high marks both for originality and overall presentation. It's not unfamiliar as a wit, but it's a fresh interpretation. It's on the subtle side, but I think it will be broadly pleasing. For many Oregonians, it may be an introduction to the style. They will be fortunate to start here.

Rating: A-

Friday, July 04, 2008

Ben Franklin and Beer

I was about to put up a throwaway post (gotta goose the traffic!) with that famous quote from Ben Franklin:
"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."
This quote is well-known to beery types, and can be seen on about 10% of the t-shirts at beer festivals in July. It seems to verify satisfyingly the things we know about Franklin and beer: Ben was a bit of a libertine, clearly irreverent, but a founding father whose love of beer seems to vouch for its wholesomeness and patriotic purity. Unfortunately, it's also a crock: Franklin never said it. Worse, it's a missappropriation of a quote from a Franklin letter in which he extols ... brace yourself ... wine.
Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy.
How French is that? (Franklin, of course, was a Francophile, one of the many reasons some red-blooded Americans hold him at some distance.) Turns out the fake quote was brewed up by the US brewing industry post-prohibition, when they were battling with liquor producers for sales.
As part of their marketing plan to groom a bigger beer-drinking audience, the United States Brewers Association began a decades-long advertising campaign that was quick to associate beer and beer drinking with our Founding Fathers, early American history and patriotism.
Tinkering with the legacy of a founding father to make a buck? How American is that? It's not the gilded version of an Independence Day story ("I cannot tel a lie..."), but it's pretty American nevertheless.

Happy Fourth--

Thursday, July 03, 2008

New Beers

I managed to stop by the Horse Brass last night to try out a few of those special Craft Month brews they have on tap. As it happens, they are rotating the selections around, so of those on the list I posted earlier, only about 40% are on tap as of this writing. I ordered up some half-pints and made my way through a few. Here are the notes.

Hoochie Koochie Kolsch - Rock Bottom
A good kolsch is like a Fassbinder film--absolute joy to those who love the style. To everyone else, kolsches and Fassbinder films may be a headscratcher. The style is designed for subtlety. They are one of the rare German ales, but like altbiers, don't really express the same character of Belgian and English ale strains. They have more in common with lagers. A light beer, with some sweetness in the palate, and a dry, sometimes tangy finish. Great with food, for they draw flavors out while never overwhelming them. Hoochie Koochie has the sweetness and crispness, is dry at the finish, but not tangy. The smoky Horse Brass is no place to smell a beer, but it was a beautiful, perfectly clear straw color. I discovered a nice black-pepper note in the middle which seemed to intensify as the beer warmed. I might add just a touch more malt if I were brewing this again, because it hollows out just a touch in the middle, but overall, a very refreshing example of the style. Rating: B+

Ninkasi Vanilla Oatis
Oatis is Ninkasi's regular oatmeal stout (which I found to have an overly harsh, tannic finish), and into it Jamie Floyd has infused vanilla beans. The result is almost unrecognizeable as a beer. It is a pure confection, with the vanilla unexpectedly drawing out a long, intense chocolate note. I'm sure it's not actually that sweet--regular Oatis is not--but it tasted like a float, and I kept expecting to see a dollop of vanilla ice cream float up. The whole experience is accentuated by the creaminess of the stout, which is like silk. I have no idea how to rate it, but it's certainly worth trying for the experience.

Oak-aged Jubel - Deschutes
When this was first served to me cold, it was incredibly hard to get a bead on. I let it warm and then discovered the problem--it's still too green. With stronger beers, the flavors need to "stew"--bond and blend together. In this beer, the flavor notes of hop, alcohol, and malt can be tasted, but only simultaneously, not as a whole. It's possible that the oak exacerbates the problem, because it draws out the hops in a longer, more resinous note, and there's something in the flavor of preservative, like it's sealing the flavors in. I would very much like to try it in a year. Rating: incomplete.

Cask Prodigal Son - Full Sail
I had to try a cask ale, even though none of the special releases was on cask. I chose Prodigal Son, which I already reviewed, but man, how cask alters it. It is a sunny, bright, crowd-pleasing hop festival in the bottle. On cask, though, it's as if the nature of hops are newly revealed in scientific clarity. They aren't bitter so much as a vegetative, like chard. There's an oily quality, a stemmy quality, and ... well, I lack the vocabulary. A revelation, but perhaps not one everyone would like. I'd love to have been at a table with 10 people to see what the reactions were.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

WidHook Deal Completed

The proposed merger between Widmer and Redhook that the breweries announced last November is now complete.
Widmer Brothers Brewing Co. and Redhook Ale Brewery Inc. on Tuesday announced the completion of their merger, renaming the combined company Craft Brewers Alliance Inc....

Kurt Widmer, co-founder of Portland-based Widmer Brothers, will serve as chairman of the board. Paul Shipman, most recently Redhook chairman and chief executive officer, will serve as chairman emeritus. Craft Brewers Alliance will continue to be publicly traded on NASDAQ under the symbol HOOK, with headquarters in Portland and management offices in Woodinville.

Shareholders of each company hold approximately 50 percent of the outstanding shares in the combined company. Anheuser-Busch remains a strategic distribution partner for both sets of brands, and holds a minority equity stake in the company.

In addition to breweries in Portland and Woodinville, Craft Brewers has a brewery in Portsmouth, N.H.
Congrats to the brewery. Let the criticism begin!

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

The IPA Myth

Oh man, this is just too horrible to consider. Apparently, what we know about India Pale Ales is a crock. As you know, there's this (apparently apocryphal) legend:
In the late 1700's Hogdson was the most popular ale brewer in London. With easy access to shipping from the capital, Hogdson was in position to supply beer to homesick English colonists around the world. Of these, none felt so removed, nor thirsted more for the pleasures of English breweries, than the troops garrisoned on the sub-continent of India. Hogdson rightly believed it a huge market waiting to be tapped, but how could beer survive the trip around Africa?

Hogdson used three brewing methods to ensure his ale weathered the journey. First, he knew hops were a natural preservative. Indeed, it was this property that first motivated brewers to use hops. Hogdson reckoned an increased hopping rate would help in transit. Next, he took advantage of another natural preservative in beer, and he brewed one with an exaggerated level of alcohol. Finally, he used abundant dry hopping as an additional preservative, and he rightly thought it wouldn't harm the taste because it would mellow during the long voyage.
This is the story everyone in Beervana knows. We can repeat it with more or less all the moving parts intact, even if some of the details get lost or embellished. Ah, but the devil's in the details, and Martyn Cornell, having looked into them, says the legend can't be true. Strong ales were already in production before the India trade began, and were already used on long voyages--some far longer than the four months it took to get to India. On his Zythophile blog, he explains:
Despite some modern commentators’ declaration that India Pale Ale needed to be invented because the big-selling beer in the late 18th century in Britain, porter, would not survive the four-month journey to the East, porter was perfectly capable of lasting on board a ship much longer than that, as this passage from the journal of Joseph Banks on August 25 1769, when he was on board the Endeavour with Captain Cook in the South Pacific, shows.
The quote describes year-old porter that remained "excellently good." He continues to make a pretty strong case:
  • In 1767, George Watson details "October beer" in The Compleat English Brewer designed to last two years.
  • In 1768, a brewing book details a highly-hopped recipe for robust "malt wine" to ensure "a year's keeping."
  • Hodgson did ship to India, but mainly because his brewery happened to be near the docks where boats shipped out from.
  • Hodgson's October stock beer went through some kind of speed-maturation in the hold of the ship and arrived (unintentionally) ready ready to drink.
In a subsequent post, he sums up how the story of IPA should actually read:
IPA developed out of the strong, well-hopped stock ales, designed to last a year or two in cask before being drunk, that British brewers were already making before entrepreneurial ship’s captains decided to make a few bob taking beer out to sell in India. The stock ale went through a speeded-up maturation on the journey, and arrived out East in prime condition.
Hat tip to Tom, who no doubt spends his free time disabusing 2nd graders of their Santa Claus beliefs. Thanks a lot, man.

Meet the Brewers

Today is July 1, the kick-off for "Oregon Craft Beer Month." I'll do my best to keep you up to speed on the major events that tickle my fancy, but keep in mind that almost every brewery in the state is participating with release parties, special events, mini-fests, brewing dinners, meet-the-brewer events, and so on. Click the logo at right for a full listing.

For the kick-off, there is a special event at the Horse Brass about which I am attempting to learn more. The brief description reads thus:
Come and meet the Brewers of the Oregon Brewers Guild at the Kick Off Party for Oregon Craft Beer Month.
I'll try to track down which brewers and pass that along. There's also another meet-the-brewers event at the Green Dragon, where Eric Wathen and Max Skewes will be showcasing their Alameda Brewhouse beers. I've included the details of these events in my right-hand column, and I'll update that with selected events as the month progresses. Enjoy!

[Update, noon]

Still no word on the brewers who will be at the event, but here is a list of rare and special beers that will be on tap for the event.
  • Bridgeport, 2007 Hop Harvest IPA
  • Deschutes, Oak Aged Jubel and Black Butte Porter XX
  • Double Mountain, Molten Lava Double IPA
  • Eugene City, Track Town IPA
  • Full Sail, 2007 Vesuvius
  • Hopworks, Washoe Weizen
  • Laurelwood, Belgian NW Red Infrared
  • Lompoc, 2007 C-Son’s Greetings and Flower of the Gods Imperial IPA
  • Mia & Pia’s, Irrigator Doppelbock and Ra Ale
  • Mt. Hood, Wee Heavy (cask)
  • Ninkasi, dry-hopped Tricerahops (cask) and vanilla-infused Oatis Stout
  • Rock Bottom, Kolsch 55 and Simcoe-dry hopped IPA
  • Rogue Ales, Imperial YSB and Imperial Porter
  • Terminal Gravity, Tripel
  • Widmer, Doppelbock

Monday, June 30, 2008

Super Small Beers

A British beer blogger has a post up about an English brown ale that weighs in at 2.8% alcohol:
If you're American, you'd probably laugh it out of town. I doubt they send much - if any - across the Atlantic. Instead, the beer cowers in brown, half litre bottles on the shelves of Tesco stores in Britain. It coyly suggests on its label that it be used for cooking. There's even a recipe for beef stew on the back. It's as if the little chap doesn't want you to drink him.
It appears that the beer in question, Mann's, is a throwback. In the comments to the post, a guy named Paul notes "When we had our beer shop we used to sell a reasonable amount of Mann's brown. I don't ever remember a customer for it being under 60." That, and the suggestion that it's more fit for stew than mug, hint at its status there.

Nevertheless, there is a long and loving history of small beers, going back to the time when they were consumed in greater quantity and at what we might now consider off hours. In our mania for extremes, we extend not even scorn for these kinds of beers now--most craft beer drinkers probably believe that beer under 4% alcohol was made to serve scorn-deserving niches (light beer, non-alcoholic beer).

Well, as a sometimes brewer and all-around beer appreciator, I will go on record as a fan of the little beers. They're the quadruple salchow of brewing--very hard to pull off, so much so that few even bother. But when done properly, they reveal flavors concealed at higher octane. Here in Beervana, we so eschew anything with the macro taint that even our session ales are 5.5%. But in the world of extremes--which make Beervana's heart sing--super small beers are something to consider.

A general call to Oregon brewers: what about trying to knock off our socks with one hand tied behind your back? Something around three percent, style of your choice. Betcha can't.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Organic Beer Fest - Open Thread

Open threads work well on blogs that get high traffic and comments, and this one has neither. Still, I hope you report back on your findings at the Organic Beer Fest. Your reports will be my only experience of it, and so you'll be doing me a favor if you tell me what happened.
  • Good beers?
  • Bad beers?
  • Breweries new or new to Oregon--how'd they measure up?
  • Environmental issues--the site, the weather (should be a mirror opposite of last year's cold, rainy Saturday), the volunteers, etc. How'd it go?
Stay hydrated and stay cool--

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Organic Beerfest Preview

North American Organic Beer Festival, June 27-29
Overlook Park, North Portland, Oregon
Fri, 3:00 to 9:00 p.m., Sat, noon to 9:00, Sun, noon to 5:00.
Compostable tasting mugs: $5, samples $1
Children welcome with parents.
Tomorrow at three o'clock, the North American Organic Brewers Festival opens its doors. Believe it or not, this is the fourth iteration of the fest, which seems like it just got started a couple years back. I have the distinct displeasure to have to miss this year's fest do to an unavoidable trip out of town, but you shouldn't be cavalier: this is the premier event for quality West Coast beers.

Organic beers are no longer the oddity they once were, but they're still special. Few breweries are all-organic, so those that do brew an organic beer do it with intention. (An example: in order to have Green Lakes certified organic, Deschutes had to spend six months working with Oregon Tilth just for the one beer.) Whether or not organic ingredients offer empirically-better tasting beer is debatable. But what became clear to me at last year's fest was that as a class, organic beers tend to get more loving attention from brewers and are consequently showcase products. Nearly every beer you try at this fest will be better than average, and that just can't be said for any other fest. So don't miss it.

I will not presume to tell you what to sample, but if I were able to go, this would constitute my short list:
  • Dupont Foret. Was Dupont the first brewery to produce an organic beer? They started way back in 1990. Pinkus (see below) may have started even earlier, but together, these two breweries are organic pioneers. Foret is one of the saison variations offered by the most renowned farmhouse brewery in the world, somewhat more robust than the standard Saison, and I would love to try it on tap.
  • Pinkus Hefe-Weizen. This German brewer started experimenting with organics two decades ago, and if you think you don't like hefeweizens, test the theory by trying Pinkus. It is a revelation of delicacy and tartness. And from the keg, it should be super fresh.
  • Crannog Hell's Kitchen Potato Ale. I had this last year, but I would love to revisit it--the potato is, I recall ... interesting.
  • Bison Single Hop IPA. Last year, I was impressed by Bison's offbeat Gingerbread Ale, but I'd like to see what they can do with a straight-up IPA. (No evidence of which single hop has been deployed.)
  • Willamette IPA. What's a brewfest for if not trying beer from new breweries? I was unaware of this Eugene joint, which looks to be about a year old. (What the hell kind of blogger am I to have missed this? A question for the sages.)
  • Santa Cruz Dread Brown. Why? Because this is the beer's lineage: "This is the first ale by brewster, Emily Thomas, co-owner of Santa Cruz Mountain Brewing. Thomas brewed up her first batch of brown ale in the bathtub of her college apartment almost ten years ago." Female brewer? Check. Bathtub? Check. Award-winning brown ale? Check. A trifecta.
  • Hair of the Dog Greg. Though HotD has three choices, I'd probably go with the Greg, just so I could still stand up in a roughly vertical manner afterward.
  • Nelson Brewing IPA. Okay, I've got too many IPAs on my list. But come on, it's from British Columbia, eh.
  • St. Peter's English Ale. You may recall Britain's St. Peter's from their characteristic flat bottles. I recall them for their extraordinary quality. Never had the English Ale, though.
  • McMenamins Saison du Pass. The buzz beer last year, to which I responded coolly. I'd like to give it a second chance.
  • Widmer WOMP Pale. Because Widmer always tries something interesting.
This list excludes beers that I know to be exceptional, like the Double Mountain beers, Sam Smith (another organics pioneer), Schneider, Fish Tales, and Roots (which I can get at the pub near my house). And I'm certain that I've overlooked some stellar beer that will float your boat. And with this fest, you probably can't go wrong.

Enjoy--