Lompoc's Cedar Experiment

One of my pet interests is the effect of locality on beer. Historically, beer was defined solely by what brewers had available locally. So the Finns lautered their beer through juniper branches and in Yorkshire they fermented on slate. Nearly four years ago, I wondered what could possibly be used that would contribute local flavor to Oregon beer and hit on cedar:

On of our most famous native variety is the Western red cedar (thuja plicata) which is, in fact, a false cypress, not a true cedar. This is the tree that produces the resinous, water-repelling wood that's used for shake shingles. It has been used for centuries by native people to make everything from homes and canoes to art. Its greatest claim to fame is its aromatics, which derive from thujaplicin, and contributes the classic cedar scent.

I've always wondered about it; though, in comments to the post someone noted that cedar is a pretty serious allergen, so I abandoned the idea. Lompoc, however, has not.

Also pouring in Sidebar on Friday is Cedar Proof Ale, our Living Proof Belgian Dubbel aged on cedar planks for five days. Made with malted barley, corn, molasses and Cluster hops, there are hints of licorice and tobacco with a malty body and a dry finish.

That description is actually just the text for Living Proof--one of two beers Lompoc brewed for Cheers to Belgian Beers. One hopes those planks added something more to Cedar Proof. Unfortunately, it's yet another beer I'm going to miss this weekend--the only time the Sidebar is open. Holler if you have a chance to try the beer in my stead.

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PHOTO: WORKSHOP COMPANION

Reviews: Widmer W '11, Lompoc Batch 69, and Full Sail Black Gold

Tis the season of big blacks. Last month I watched Upright brew their annual Oyster Stout, Fort George is in the midst of Stout Month, and at least three breweries have new stouts out on shelves.

Okay, they're not all called stouts: one is a Baltic porter. These all have a common ancestor, though. I reviewed a bit of the history on Wednesday of how porters became the first international style--go have a look if you missed it. English breweries were shipping strong porter to the Baltic states by the beginning of the 19th century. These were the ur-beers that led to the styles of imperial stouts and Baltic porters. For some reason, Russians felt locally-brewed porter wasn't much good, so they relied on imports. Elsewhere in the region, brewers did brew the style, and there the line split.

Over the centuries, Baltic porters emerged looking a little different from English imperial stouts. The porters produced in Poland and the Baltic states are mostly lagers. They are as strong in alcohol as imperial stouts (7-10%), but lighter-bodied. They are silkier and lighter, less gloppy. You often find roasty notes--sometimes so intense they bend toward the sour--or plummy port-like notes. Imperial stouts, by contrast are gloppy--they're dense and rich and generally very intense. Their intensity makes them a huge favorite of beer geeks--who strangely aren't anywhere near as charmed by their close kin, the Baltics.

I, however, am charmed by them all, and was delighted to see all these releases emerge at roughly the same time.

Widmer W '11 KGB Imperial Stout
Old-timers were not surprised to see KGB make it to the W series. It has been a Gasthaus favorite since 1998, although brewer Ben Dobler says each iteration is a little different. So was the bottled version, which Ben describes thus:

"We've always been right around 9-10% ABV, and 65-75Bu's. The main change in this version is the addition of Midnight Wheat from Briess. I think adding this malt helped round out some of the roughness and harshness we were getting by relying on Chocolate, Roast, and Black malt to give us color as well as flavor. The beer is ridiculously smooth, in my opinion. It surprised me how well we hid 9.3% ABV."

This beer was released more than a month ago, and I've heard quite different reactions in that time. Some of my friends raved, agreeing with Ben that the alcohol was very well-concealed. Others, however, have complained that the body is too thin for a Russian imperial; some also dispute Ben's characterization of smoothness and call the roastiness harsh. Fortunately, you have me to resolve these differences

Tasting Notes
In the manner of Solomon, I shall split the baby: both fans and critics are correct. KGB is an intense beer, highlighted by a massive wallop of roasted barley. People are more or less susceptible to intense flavors; some love 97% cacao dark chocolate while others (like me), need a little moderation. Widmer pushes the envelope. Interestingly, there's a competing sweetness that runs through the palate, long and sweet, with a molasses finish.

The body? Definitely thinner than most imperial stouts, which got me thinking. Since this must surely have been intentional, what was the goal with KGB? I swished and swallowed, noting a bit of soot, as if from Victorian England. But that roast note--so similar to some Baltics I've had. This is a beer that goes a long way toward reuniting the two branches of the family.

My first pour came last month, when Widmer and the Brew Crew unveiled their latest Collaborator. In attendance was Rob Widmer, who noted that he was excited to throw some in the cellar and see how it ages. I agree: that roast note will fall back a bit, and I expect the sweet note to deepen and acquire some of the port of a Baltic. In six months or a year, this may seem a lot more like a Baltic porter than an imperial stout--and will probably reach its potential. Rating it now, I'd call it a B, but I expect it could rise substantially--and possibly even be an A before it's all done. [9.3%, 21.5° P, 65 IBUs]


Lompoc Batch 69
As is their wont, the folks from Lompoc have provided exactly one detail about this beer: it was lagered. Beyond that, I have no idea what ingredients or processes they used. That detail is important, though. Mostly the American Baltics I've seen have been fermented with ale strains and taste a lot more like imperial stouts.

Tasting Notes
This is the second year for Batch 69, and last year's (which I missed), was much lauded. I'm not sure if the recipe changed or I'm just out of step with the raters on BA and RateBeer, but I was less impressed. It looks great--an ebony body and a mousse-like mocha head. There wasn't a lot of nose, but I picked up chocolate and nuts ... and cabbage. Hmm. The palate was appropriately lager smooth, but there was not much depth to the flavor. It's mainly sweet, lacking any roast. And the sweet is overdone--by about half-way through the first glass, my mouth was coated. The cabbage is there, too, mildly, but not tastily. (Perhaps the Lompockians were taking the Polish inspiration too literally?) I'd be willing to give it another shot, but based on this bottle, I'd rate it a C+. [7.7%]


Full Sail Black Gold
The imperial stouts made by American breweries are, often as not, aged in bourbon barrels. This innovation takes us yet another step away from what I expect Barclay Perkins tasted like in 1825. Full Sail alternates between Imperial Porter and Black Gold, brewing one each year. They secure the barrels over a year in advance, then let that year's batch sit for a full 12 months on the wood, aging. The result is always a characteristically American product, rich and sweet, full of candy and chocolate sweetness. But not all are created equally.

This year's Black Gold was aged in 18- and 20-year old Kentucky bourbon barrels. Wholly apart from the contribution of bourbon, barrel-aging is its own art. Wood breathes and becomes a part of the environment. If a barrel is kept cool or warm, wet or dry, these factors will affect what's inside--especially over the course of two decades. Full Sail blended the batches together to produce the final version of Black Gold, but as a service to beer bloggers, they kegged up a tiny portion straight from the barrels and served them straight.

The beer aged in the 1990 barrels (just after Nirvana's debut "Bleach" came out) was incredibly smooth and sweet. Absolute decadence--and too much, for some people. (John Harris felt it was cloying.) But the beer aged in the '92 barrels (that was the year Bill Clinton was first elected president) was a little hot and sharp. I might have admired it more if it weren't served alongside the final version and the '90. I've seen a bit of speculation that the sharpness must come from the age difference in the barrels, but I doubt that. These are old barrels, and a 10% difference in age can't account for the harshness differential. I suspect, rather, that they were handled differently. For some reason, the '92 barrels ended up hotter and sharper.

The final version is the Goldilocks blend--just right. The hot notes and the intensely sweet notes from the two blends are smoothed out. The result is like liquid tiramisu--rich, chocolately, and creamy. A bit of the wood is present, and the bourbon provides a clear note, but not an oppressive one. Barrels breathe, which allow the flavor components of the beer to blend and harmonize more fully--something that hasn't happened yet in the KGB. Black Gold is released ready to drink, no aging necessary. (It will, of course, continue to evolve in the cellar.) I remembered a Black Gold that was insanely good and mentioned it to John. "2006," he said, without hesitation. That one is the standard against which other Black Golds will be measured, and 2011's batch is just a notch below. But just a notch--this is a very, very good beer. Since '06's was an A, I guess I'll call this an A-. Ah, screw it, let's call that '06 an A+ and leave this an A. [11.4%, 37 IBUs]


Update: I just got an email from Hopworks announcing the release of a tuned up Kronan:

Deep like the Baltic Sea and as massive as the Swedish ship Kronan sunk in its icy waters, our Bourbon Barrel-Aged Baltic Porter emerges from the depths after being stowed away for a year in Buffalo Trace Bourbon barrels. This beer brings to the surface a frothy tan head and rich aroma combining malt notes of chocolate, caramel and dark fruit with the essence of vanilla, smoke and oak of Bourbon. Made with bottom fermenting lager yeast, Kronan the Barbarian is as rich and strong as an Austrian actor but with more complexity. [9.2%, 19° P, 25 IBUs]

CDA in the WaPo; Braggot in the Side Bar

Abram Goldman-Armstrong may be winning the fight. Check out this article in Tuesday's Washington Post:

"Black IPA" would be a contradiction in terms: How can you be both black and pale? "India black ale" would be more accurate; however, at least one brewery has had that term struck down by federal labeling authorities for not being an accepted style. But "Cascadian dark ale," or CDA, is gaining currency, especially in the Pacific Northwest, where the style has proved popular.

I have no idea whether Abe's version of history is true or not, but he's winning the battle to have it canonized as the authentic one:

As with most emerging styles, there is a debate over who got there first. "The question is a sticky one," allows Abram Goldman-Armstrong, a beer writer from Portland who organized a Cascadian dark ale symposium in January to help draw up parameters for the style. Goldman-Armstrong asserts that the "first true CDA" he ever sampled was Skull Splitter from Rogue Ales in Newport, Ore., a special release for the 2003 Oregon Brewers Festival. He credits a home-brewing friend, Bill Wood of Seattle, with coining the term Cascadian dark ale.

For what it's worth, I think the claim is tenuous. Greg Kitsock, author of the article, suggests one earlier version, but there are other, far, far earlier examples, too. But who cares? Abe's on the road to establishing CDA, and I say more power to him. Claim one for Cascadia.

In the other bit of random news, I would like to highlight this, at the Lompoc's Sidebar:

Bob's Memorial Braggot
Brewed in the summer of '08 and blended and bottled in March '09, this beer is 2.25 parts mead to 1 part brown ale. The late Bob Farrell, one of the true gentlemen of the Oregon craft-beer world, was a great fan of braggot, and helped blend this before his untimely death from cancer. We raise our glass to Bob when we drink this! 7% ABV

Looks very cool, and worth a stop if you've got the time.

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.

Two Good Ones

When I went on the Guild-organized junket last week, I managed to score some bonus tasters of beer. We were really there to try new releases that will be unveiled on Thursday as a kick-off to Craft Beer Month--and I'll run those down tomorrow. But you know, adept media can generally wheedle a pour or two of different beer if they ask brightly enough. I tried a couple you ought to go out of your way for, and they are in many ways mirror opposites.

Rock Bottom Koelsch
The first is a kolsch Van Havig has on tap at Rock Bottom now. Kolsches are hard to rave about in the way you rave about other beers with very strong flavors. On a scale of intensity, all aspects are at the low end--hop bitterness, malt richness, yeast character. Yet each makes a definite contribution, and when they are all in perfect harmony, the resulting beer is a triumph of balance and satisfaction. Like me, Van loves a good kolsch, and the one he has on tap now struck me as being pretty close to the mark. The malt is a gentle honey-sweet base, the hops are light and spicy, and the finish is clean, crisp, and just a wee bit tart. A perfect summer beer and perfectly pleasurable.

Van, though, thinks he could do better. He painted a target in the air and arrayed the flavor elements around, just outside the center circle. Each year he makes a kolsch, fiddling with the ingredients, zeroing in. You should go have a pint and see if you can find any faults. (Stats: Cargill Europils, touch of Weyermann Carafoam and acidulated malts; Sterling to bitter, Liberty for aroma, and a kolsch yeast strain; 4.8%.)


New Old Lompoc Sour
On the other end of the spectrum, we have a lovely accident--a batch of Lompoc Strong Draft that was exposed to a few wild yeast residing, unbeknownst to the brewery, inside the wine barrel in which it was aged. Until not too long ago, English old ale was characterized by a similar quality from wild brettanomyces. (Carlsberg first identified brett in English beers in 1903.) This beer tasted more lactic, but the principle is the same--with age, the beer picks up the funk of the barrel. "Old," used in this context, meant beer that had had a chance to turn. Although Lompoc is apparently still calling the beer LSD ("strong" being subbed in by "sour"), I think of it as an old ale revival.

It was one of those very approachable, lush sours that most people will appreciate. It's a pretty hefty beer and still contains some sugars, which mute and draw out the souring. It gets those chocolate/cherry notes that seem to reside halfway between sour and dark malts. It's at the Sidebar, which is a cool little joint I hadn't yet had the chance to visit. Picture in your mind the Fifth Quadrant, which is actually on the Failing side of the corner. Next to it, on the Williams side, is Pix, and then on the other side is the Sidebar. It's a shadowy space that approximates the feel of a wine cellar, ringed on the inside by aging barrels of beer. The air is still and thick with yeast aroma. It's a nice place to try a contemplative pour of rich ale, and so you should stop in for a pour of the sour--possibly after you've had dinner at the neighboring pub.

Way Back When - Old Lompoc

That may be Bud Clark, and he may be pulling the first pint at the newly rechristened New Old Lompoc (formerly Old Lompoc), but this damned brain has a hard time drawing out details. It was in the bottom of my box of pictures. Or it could just be a bartender who looks like Bud.


Anyone confirm?

(Oh, in case you happen not to be from Portland, Bud Clark was a barman who got his dander up in the 80s and decided to run for Mayor. And won. But he was probably more famous for the poster below.)

Random Comments After a Visit to Lompoc 5th Quadrant

Look alert, and any visit to a pub is a potential blog post. But few offer the fascinating details from last night's visit to Lompoc 5th Quadrant.

Item One, Service
Consider this the first award in 2010 for best service. Our friend Charlie arrived via bike (tres Portlandish, since it was spitting spiteful rain) and therefore arrived earlier to the pub and therefore arrived at the bottom of his IPA first. The waitress walked by, looked at his empty and said, "Another IPA?" He concurred, and she plopped one down off her serving tray. Mind-reading! I henceforth expect this of all pubs.

Item Two, Glassware Decisions
Two of the seasonals are an imperial stout and a barleywine. A marginal .3% alcohol separate them--8.9% for the stout, 9.2% for the barleywine. Yet only one was served in a small glass. The mind-reading waitress could shed no light on why this might be, but was as amused as I was. I went with the stout ... in a 10-ounce glass. My age--a day shy of my 42nd birthday--now figures into these decisions.

Item Three, Beer
When all else fails, there's the beer to observe. The imperial stout was a fine pour. Made with coffee, it was rich and bitter and very boozy. Much admired around the table.

Oh, and the Jets upset the Chargers while we were there, but I ignored this spectacle. Who cares about football? I mean, since the Packers got beat last week.

I Approve

This is cool:

Dubbed "Eight Malty Nights," the Chocolate Rye beer will be brewed tomorrow, November 10. Rabbi Bradley Greenstein from the Congregation Neveh Shalom will be present to bless the mash and deliver a toast. The beer will be released on the first day of Hanukkah, Dec. 11.

To witness the blessing of the mash and take part in the toast, please be at Lompoc Brewing, 3901 A N Williams Ave, Portland on Tuesday, at 7:30 am.

By the way, when did the "New Old Lompoc" (aka "Old Lompoc") become "Lompoc Brewing?" Did I miss something?

Fresh Hop Ales

Although I am going to be unable to get to one of the vaunted fresh hop festivals (Saturday was my best bet--I was in Beaverton at an all-day meeting and it ended a little after six. The Portland stop was in Troutdale and closed at nine. There was a Red Sox game. Compromising, I went to the Pilsner room, tried six samplers, and watched the Sox.), I have nevertheless found ten examples of around town, which ain't bad. Here are my findings, grouped by quality.

The Noble Failures

As I mentioned yesterday, some of these beers were misfires; still, I may have learned as much about the properties of green hops by these beers as the winners. The breweries below therefore deserve our appreciation, not scorn.

Laurelwood Extra Pale
Hops used: Willamette

Laurelwood started out right--an extra pale ale is the perfect recipe to accentuate all the flavors of a wet cone. But perhaps Willamettes were the wrong variety to use. Typically a spicy, clean hop, in this beer they came out weedy. The bitterness was notable, but it didn't taste like hop bitterness, but like ... well, like a pot of boiled weeds. The gentle sweetness of malt is completely overwhelmed. Perhaps too many hops were added too early in the boil; alternately, Willamette hops just may just have been the wrong way to go.

Sierra Nevada Harvest
Hops used: Cascade and Centennial

The two hops used here are very closely related. Cascade, the signature hop of the West Coast, give pales like Mirror Pond (and Sierra Nevada's own pale) their classic flavor. Centennials are a a more bitter version, but supposedly very similar otherwise. Supposedly. As we'll see later, Cascade-hopped beers fared far better in the fresh-hop slate. But now twice I've had bad Centennial experiments. SN Harvest has a slightly off aroma that you might charitably call "cabbage." As it goes down the gullet, and particularly after it warms in the glass, "garbage" or "compost" spring more quickly to mind. Not tasty.

Hale's Harvest
Hops used: Simcoe, Cascade, Centennial

This beer demonstrates the fragility of fresh hops. Even though they can contribute strong flavor notes, they're nature is essentially herbal and delicate. Hale's has used an ESB-like malt bill, and it is too much for wet hops. I didn't detect any particularly notable off-flavors (perhaps something that could be called "gassy"), but the predominant note is roasted malt; the fresh hops don't really have a chance to reveal themselves. It's not a bad-tasting beer, it's just out of balance, which makes it hard to identify the hops.

Decent Outings

Most of these beers are the kind I often brew--pretty good, but there are things I'd do to improve them.

Hopworks Red Ale
Hops used: ?

This one barely squeaked into the "good" category, and only because I let it sit in my glass until it was quite warm. Until then, I found it similar to the Hale's--heavy on malts. The hops (don't know which they used) are a little funky when cold, but when the beer warms up, it becomes a sweet, fresh beer.

Old Lompoc Harvestman
Hops used: Crystal

The Lompoc made two beers using Crystal hops, which turn out to be among the most reliable wet varieties. It is a descendant of a classic German hop (Hallertau) crossed with some American strains, including Cascade, and when dry is notably spicy. Harvestman, however, is a 7.8% bruiser of a beer, and while it's pretty tasty, the subtle elements of the hops are lost. Not to worry, though, Lompoc has a second Crystal-hopped beer that impresses (keep reading).

Lucky Lab "The Mutt"
Hops used: Fuggle, Cascade, Centennial, Golding, Willamette, Mount Hood and Crystal

The Mutt is easily the best story: the name comes from the many varieties of fresh hops used to brew it, some of which came off the vines that grow in the parking lot behind the flagship pub. Like Laurelwood, they have gone for a very mild substrate--a standard pale of just 5%. What results is a tasty session, slightly grassy and green. The various hops balance each other out, so there are none of the strong weird flavors, but also nothing that makes you sit up and take notice. (Quite a bit of reserve for the Lucksters--I wonder if they expected a stronger flavor, sort of a "wall of sound' effect. We'll see next year.)

The Winners

Three of the ten beers were great--the kind of beers you'll seek out the second they hit the shelves and lament when the final kegs are gone.

Old Lompoc Star of India
Hops used: Crystal

This is the beer Lucky Lab was aiming at--a light pale that highlights the freshness of the hops. In this example, I began to see how stable Crystal hops are--they contribute a clean, straightforward note that has the obvious (though hard to describe) character of wet hops. I'll use the word "lemongrass," but I'm open to something more accurate.

Deschutes Hop Trip
Hops used: Crystal

Hey, Crystal hops--seeing a pattern? In Hop Trip, they pop even more. I found the beer decidedly oily--I actually wrote down "furniture polish" but I'm worried there's no way that can be taken as a positive. Anyway, we're getting into territory that makes you appreciate what makes wet hops different, even if you can't describe it. The hops linger in the mouth almost tangibly after you swallow--a fresh, rich aroma you can chew on for a few seconds. I had Hop Trip on tap (Pilsner Room), and that probably didn't hurt.

BridgePort Hop Harvest
Hops used: Cascade

Of the four beers I really like, two used Crystal, and two used Cascade, including Hop Harvest. BridgePort must have used a ton of them, too, because they've brewed the bitterest beer using green hops. (Cascades don't have a lot of alpha acids, and using them to bitter a beer is hard in normal circumstances.) There are fewer of the funky notes here, but it's more herbal and peppery than regular Cascade-spiced beers. There's lots of residual sweetness in this big beer (7%), and it perfectly complements the hops.

The Sublime

One beer achieved a kind of transcendence that would normally earn it an ode, not a review. But since we're being comparitive, here we go.

Full Sail Lupulin
Hops used: Cascade Amarillo (see correction here)

In rare cases in my beer-drinking experience, certain beers have reached out of the pint glass and grabbed me by the collar: BridgePort IPA, Pliny the Elder, Saison Dupont. The circumstances of the tasting are brought back as clearly as the sensations of the beer. So it was on Friday with Lupulin Ale.

I was in the Pilsner Room (where, sadly, they serve cheater pints) in front of a flat screen showing the Red Sox in the ALCS. Six wet hop beers were arrayed in front of me, and I had just scored a free parking place directly in front of the pub. Then came the beer: an intense citrus aroma, but orange rather than grapefruit. The flavor continued in this orangey vein, agressively zesty. At the Horse Brass website, they say it has a red bell pepper note, which is close but not quite right. I kept going back to try to identify something it reminded me of; I never found it.

I think back to the first time I had the Belgian sour beers, when my palate was instantly and irrevocably reset to a much larger palette of flavors. I had that experience with these fresh hop ales--the more I tried, the more my tongue started to recognize them. But only in Lupulin did they go to that incredibly uncommon place that is the perfection of the new, wonderful flavor.

For me, it will be the beer all green-hopped ales are judged against,; it may even usher in that new, completely indigenous beer I have been hoping the Northwest would birth. I've tasted nothing like it, and at the moment, anyway, I want to taste nothing else.

Review - Old Lompoc Fifth Quadrant

3901-B North Williams
Portland, Oregon

Hours: variable, call first if you're going odd hours; open all days
Prices: 10 oz glass - $2, 14oz - $3.75, Pitchers: $12
Other info: Seasonal outdoor seating; kids allowed; No smoking
Beers: A range of English ales plus seasonals.

Back in 1998, the Old Lompoc was a very modest new brewpub which I gave low odds to succeed. Down at the seedy end of NW 23rd (when there was still a seedy end), it had a new brewery, but still had the ambiance of a working-class 50s tavern. Of course, I liked it. When it re-opened as the New Old Lompoc, under the management of Don Younger and Jerry Fechter, it was still modest, but growing. None other than Bud Clark pulled the first pint (somewhere in a box in the basement I have a picture), but I still didn't give it great odds to thrive. (I still liked it.)

But my, how the Lompoc has grown. Now a mini-chain, it has a Southeast and Northerly outpost. And the Fifth Quadrant, which opened last year on Williams Ave (in what must be known city-wide as "the new Pix Building)", is the most haute of all--I can't imagine it began in that offbeat little tavern. The name is a nod to North Portland, which is mostly beyond the pub, and perhaps a nod to the rising fortunes of that portion of the city. So I guess everything has changed.

The Fifth Quadrant (5Q) is housed in a new building in the popular nouveau industrial style, with high ceilings and exposed duct work, cement floors, and metal floor-to-ceiling windows. It is spacious and airy, but also quite loud. The roof extends off one end of the building to make for attractive outdoor seating, and the booths at the center of the restaurant have sliding dividers that expand to seat two tables (ten people?). It was packed with families, including kids, when we went, the sure sign of a thriving neighborhood pub.

Beer
When the Lompoc was just getting started, Fechter had a tendency toward excessive tannins (generally a problem with too much crystal malt). For years I wanted to like Lompoc beers as much as I liked the pub, but they were just too grainy. So it was with some prejudice that I approached my Condor Pale at the Fifth Quadrant. Maybe it's 5Q brewer Derek Clark (there's a brewery on-site), but this ain't your father's (okay, older brother's) New Old Lompoc. Two of the three beers I tried were exceptional--a helluva batting average for any brewpub.

• Condor Pale - Sweet, carmelly nose, a warm golden color. Both this beer and the Stout had noticeably fresh aromas--as if they had been kegged and tapped minutes earlier. This was a classic NW-style pale, but what really caught my attention was the silky, creamy mouthfeel. It was thicker than most pales, but not at all heavy or cloyingly sweet. The malt and hops were in wonderful harmony. It finished dry--even more surprising, given the rich mouthfeel. Fantastic.
  
• Sockeye Cream Stout - Jet black, dense nitro head that lasted to the end. Roast and chocolate aroma, and something of English yeast (which may have been contributed by the taster, who was getting carried away) came through in the nose. Much of the strengths of the pale were evident here--silky mouthfeel, and a nice balance between a very chocolaty-sweet first note and a subsequent drying dark malts (could be both roasted and black). Perhaps the best sweet stout I've tasted.
• Centennial IPA - Although this is probably a crowd-pleaser, to me it was the one dud in the batch. It's got the hallmarks loved in Beervana--cloudy golden, frothy head, and intense bitterness. But the bitterness wasn't pleasant; it tasted like the hops had been strained for all their alpha-acid might; it tasted stressed, like over-boiled coffee. If you're going to do strongly bitter beers, better to include hops at all stages of the boil so that the bitterness is complemented by hop flavor and aroma. This one wasn't--even the aroma was nearly absent. I assume the name comes from Centennial hops, among the most aromatic, so this is a special injustice. But what the hay--have the Condor, instead.

Food
Brewpubs have learned that a good menu is good business, and 5Q has one. They feature a nice array of starters (nice if you're just out for beers), hearty sandwiches, pasta, and a few (mostly meaty) entrees. But there's also a decent selection for vegetarians, too--somewhat rare for brewpubs. Sally tried the fish and chips (her fave) and I went for a chorizo penne dish. I hate to report that the fish was slightly over-cooked; otherwise, with halibut and crispy shoestrings, it was very nice. I'd try it again. The pasta was tasty but slightly understated--still, pretty good for a pub. Portland Food and Drink, whom you should trust more than me, calls it "some of the best pub food in Portland." I'm inclined to agree. (And of course, Pix Patisserie, purveyors of the best dessert in town, is just around the corner.) We had a poor waitress, but consulting other reviews, this appears to be anomalous.

All in all, a great place. I give it a strong recommendation.