Well, I’m happy to say that I took Nate’s advice and tried their Bavarian-Style Doppel Weizen that is a limited release from the brewery.  According to the bottle, the recipe was designed by brothers who are, aside from the homage on the bottle, perhaps best known for founding ROLEC; a company that designs breweries and other beverage systems.

Aside from the brewery system they installed, the brothers also donated a yeast strain for the brewery to use.  The link to the story about yeast also has its own review of the beer with a risotto pairing.  But what did I think of the beer?

It was great.  It was authentic and was very traditional.  The phenols that are associated Bavarian Wheat beers were popping.  Plenty of cloves and bananas were notable.  Plenty of haze and straw color graced the brew.  The carbonation was a bit lower than it typical of the style…or it seemed so too me.  There is plenty more to describe about the taste profile but I’ll let you the drinker of the brew consider what you would like to add to the discussion. However, I will note one more thing; my surprise.

I was truly and pleasantly surprised by two aspects of this brew.  First, the alcohol of 9% was, in my opinion, very well hidden within the overall structure of the beer and its strength.  Second, its authenticity surprised me.  Many American wheat beers tend toward clean yeast strains and lack the phenols and esters of more traditional wheat styles.  Don’t mistake me, I’m not being critical it’s simply an experiential observation.  But Lagunitas nailed the traditional flavors.  Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have an authentic strain with which to work.

At any rate, I heartily recommend this limited release brew to you.  Let’s just hope that they change their minds about the limit part.  Pick one up today.

Once we arrived, I asked for Sage and he pointed me to Terri, his wife and the tasting room manger.  She quickly told me to come with her across the parking lot to another building where good things are kept.  After she located some beers she herself had stashed, she revealed that she had a bottle of Isabel Proximus and 2004 Veritas.  Not too shabby at all. She told us that she needed to chill them for a bit in order to get the brews ready and asked if we would like a beer in the meantime. After drinking our Mongo IPAs, the beer was ready and it was a terrific afternoon.

What’s the moral of the story? Is it to make you feel I had something you didn’t or to brag about myself on a beer network that is about the comparative exploits of one beer geek (or snob) vs. another?  No in fact, it is quite the opposite.  It is to point out that what makes beer culture a great one is that great beer can be enjoyed because of the accessible beer people.  I should mention that Tomme came over and talked for a minute, Sage chatted for a moment, and Terri was the most helpful of all. They were all obviously very busy with their responsibilities of running the tasting room, working with the various tour groups, and kegging the beer we all love so much.  Yet they took the time to be engaging and far more accommodating than they had to be.

I simply cannot commend the staff of the Lost Abbey to with any more enthusiasm.  If you live within a couple hours of San Marcos, you really should visit them and show your support.  You might not get a bottle of a rare beer when you go, but you will certainly get more than you’ve come to expect from other brewers.

Although many attendees have been more devoted than myself and have a much longer streak of presence at the festival, this year would have made three in a row.  I say “would have” because I will not be there this year.  Last year I flew to Indiana.  Of course, my family lives in Indiana so I had several motivating factors.  This year, my brother will be visiting during the festival, so it is definitely out. Aside from that, I really am not into spending the money on a flight this year.

Sure, I am sad that I will not be at the festival this year.  My hope is that I can still get two bottles from someone, or perhaps two separate people would each be willing to part with a bottle…we’ll see.

However, I need to state that the real loss will be my inability to meet up with some of my blogger friends and to rub elbows with fellow attendees.  For this reason, my mourning period is starting early.  I am also mourning for those of you who would be attending without tickets…I hear that only those with tickets will be allowed on the grounds.

It is intriguing when those who are unfamiliar with craft beer ask the question, “What’s fueling craft beer’s growth?”  So, here is the two cent answer: quality. Well, variety, too.

It seems that America has been undergoing a slow revolution in its flavor matrix.  With the at-handedness of food shows, internet ordering of hard-to-get ingredients, and “atypical” restaurants, we are literally being exposed to a world of foods and flavors.  Hopefully, the oft quoted statistic, that Americans essentially eat the same eight to ten basic meals, is becoming a thing of the past.  The average America is starting to demand better foods, more flavors, deeper variety.  All for flavor.

What happens to people when they’ve decided to no longer settle for vapidity in their foods?  They start exploring flavors and start seeking out new experiences.  Why should beer be any different?  What happens when people will no longer settle for a post-prohibition and hegemonic monopolization of their beers?  Well, craft beer is born.  We are awakening from our post-prohibition angst and finding that beer vs. no beer is no longer a legitimate distinction to make. We are finding, like our foods, a whole new world of possibilities.  Possibilities where enjoyment, complexity, and flavor are replacing excessive imbibing as a primary pursuit.

In short, if you need to ask what is fueling craft beer’s growth, look no further than your plate. I hope it’s evolved over time.

Forget the measures of niche uniqueness and abstractions about it simply being an Amber Ale among Imperial Stouts. Seriously, the grain pop and session smoothness of it makes me want to write a brief post about the beer.  It also makes me curious about the point at which an Amber Ale became and implicit anathema among crafties (I’ve never heard the term so I’m coining it…at least in my mind).  To be honest, I can get on board with notion that the ubiquitous Amber Ales at the the seemingly endless brew pubs are mediocre or worse.  However, I can’t get hop on the conceptual train that writes off a whole category of beer.

It may be an inspired rant or it may seem like sentimental drivel, depending on your outlook, but why is solid beer getting such a bad name?  To be clear, I enjoy wasabi flavored ice cream with sushi mix-ins as much as the next person, but I sometimes long for the well made vanilla.

Am I crazy?  What do you think?  And I mean the rest of what I’ve said, not my mental status…perhaps that’s self-evident.

So when the Brewers Association emailed me with a press release that includes the 2011 Beer Style Guidelines, I took note.  After all, as Charlie Papazian, president of the Brewers Association and personal hero of this author, put it, these rules are meant to enhance beer and beer makers:

“These guidelines help to illustrate the growth of craft brewers in the United States and also offer insight and a foundation for helping appreciate the hundreds of beer types brewed for the beer lover,” said Charlie Papazian, president of the Brewers Association.

As a homebrewer and hopefully a future pro-brewer, these guidelines help me categorize my beer should I place a brew in a competition.  If I paid no heed to the rules, I might ignorantly enter a Hefeweizen into the Imperial Stout category.  That would be embarrassing, and perhaps career suicide.  And, as Papazian stated, knowing the fundamental building blocks and parameters of a beer enables a person to fine tune their palate and better appreciate a beer.

Unfortunately, though, the rules can be a bit overwhelming.  I mean, there are now 140 different defined styles, and many of these style over lap.  For example, if a beer is brewed within a certain ambiguous range of color, alcohol, bitterness, etc, it could easily be categorized as either a Imperial/Double IPA, or perhaps and American Style Barleywine.  This years new addition to the Beer Style Guidelines threw me for a bit of loop, and seemed to be the perfect opportunity for style overlap.  From the Guidelines (which can be downloaded here), the new addition, the American Style Brett Ale is:

American Brett ales can be very light to black or take on the color of added fruits or other ingredients.  Wood- and barrel- aged sour ales are classified elsewhere. Light to moderate and/or fruity and contributed by the Brettanomyces yeast. The evolution of natural acidity develops balanced complexity. Horsey, goaty, leathery, phenolic and light to moderate and/or fruity acidic character evolved from Brettanomyces organisms may be evident, yet in balance with other character. Acidity may also be contributed to by
bacteria, but may or may not dominate. Residual flavors that come from liquids previously aged in a barrel such as bourbon or sherry should not be present. Wood vessels may be used during the fermentation and aging process, but wood-derived flavors such as vanillin must not be present. In darker versions, roasted malt, caramel-like and chocolate-like characters should be subtle in both flavor and aroma. American Brett ales may have evident full range of hop aroma and hop bitterness with a full range of body. Estery and fruity-ester characters are evident, sometimes moderate and sometimes intense, yet balanced. Diacetyl and sweet cornlike dimethylsulfide (DMS) should not be perceived. Chill haze, bacteria and yeast-induced haze are allowable at low to medium levels at any temperature. Fruited American-Style Brett Ales will exhibit fruit flavors in harmonious balance with other characters. Original Gravity (ºPlato) Varies with style ● Apparent Extract/Final Gravity (ºPlato) Varies with style ● Alcohol by Weight
(Volume) Varies with style ● Bitterness (IBU) Varies with style ● Color SRM (EBC) Varies with style

Sounds delicious.  In fact, brett style beers are my absolute favorite.  I’m one of those fanatics who thinks brettanomyces would make a nice addition to just about any beer.  I’ve brewed with it and I’ve cultured it from other some big name breweries.   BUT…is this new category too broad?  Is it necessary?

I mean, according to this criterion, were Orval brewed in the Rockies instead of in a monastery in Belgium, would it be an American Style Brett?  And sheesh…aren’t ALL of Jolly Pumkin’s magnificent creation now subject to another classification.

When all is said and done, it really isn’t a big deal.  In fact, despite the tone of this article, it really doesn’t bother me.  I love the Brewers Association, and I love the fact that they care so much about beer so as to make it more understandable and enjoyable.  I guess, were I a member of the board, I don’t believe I would have thrown an AYE in the basket for this one and would caution against over-classification.  Besides, don’t we all love and cherish a certain amount of raw ambiguity?  I know I do…in fact, perhaps my favorite style might just be “Specialty Beer.”

“To understand America, one must know beer, not baseball. The American Beer explains with wit and insight our infatuation with beer and its infinite variety.”

Sorry baseball fans.

The film was balanced.  Now, an overenthusiastic beer geek may not find the film as balanced as I did, as the film does not focus on the craft beer industry; though it does explore and aggrandize the movement, both at the stylistic level, and industry (i.e. disintegration of monopoly) level.  The film rather explores the history of beer from Christopher Columbus, to the Thomas Jefferson, to Adolfus Busch, to Fritz Maytag, to Garret Oliver.  The producer/director–Roger Sherman–is not a one trick pony. The fact that his portfolio contains films on Divorce and the environment and not just beer speaks volumes for the integrity of The American Brew.

I have often felt that the craft beer community at times unfairly regards lagers/pilsners much the way early Salem regarded the black arts.  That is; they treat it as a blight on the overall beer population that need not be associated with.  I get it.  Some big brewers use too much corn in their lagers.  However, Sherman fairly shows that German immigrants did not bring cheap fizzy yellow beer into the US, rather, they brought a rich brewing history, and a more difficult method for brewing.  In the same breath, Sherman is fair and also reveals that many of the establishments that brought the lager to the US also brought an insatiable desire for market control.

Sherman’s treatment of the Prohibition is both historically accurate, and amusing, as he slyly reveals the plebeian nature intrinsic to American/human political pandering.  He demonstrates that the temperance movement was made to be a polarizing and singular issue:  Americans disregarded EVERY other issue of a political candidates platform and focused ONLY on whether they supported tolerance.  I can’t disagree with the documentary’s supposition that this idea exists today.  Sherman shows us that prior to prohibition there was a raucous public outcry to banish beer and all other alcoholic beverages…just 14 years later the same America was filled with a raucous public outcry to legalize beer and all other alcoholic beverages.

The film explores many other beer avenues worthy of your exploration, and I would hate to spoil it, so please, rent the documentary and let us know what you think!

Now that we have my confession and reservation, I’m going to say it.  Italian beer is underrated.  Say what you want, think what you want, but some of the craft Italian beer is stunning.  I had Nora the other night and loved it. The range on Beer Advocate is the typical operatic undulation of scores on this one.  You know the people I’m talking about: the ones with the Pliny the Elder bottles as their pictures.  I can’t imagine why they would excoriate a beer like Nora… Wait, yes, I can.  I suppose there just aren’t enough Columbus hops on the nose.  To be fair, there are some good raters on BA, so I’m not simple dogging that site.

At any rate, and without doing a full review, the Cedar spice on this beer was amazing.  I felt like I was sitting a humidor without the actual cigar smoke.  Now, I don’t know what all else was in there, and I’ve been cellaring my bottle for well over a year, so keep that in mind.  Bottom line is this: Italian brewers are making some great beer, and it’s nice to step out of the U.S. scene to enjoy some seriously good beer.  Please do yourself a favor and buy some of those Italian beers with that sexy bottle and lovely label design.

During the course of the World Cup (sponsored by Budweiser), I’d seen a multitude of Bud Light commercials.  The commercials are certainly ubiquitous, some are a little funny, others are amateurish and others are flat out stupid.  The funny part is, they assume the low-brow intelligence and humor of people who support their beer.

Admittedly, this is a rant and I’m characterizing the commercials a certain way but I’m attempting to create some actual humor and criticism of the product via the commercials themselves.  Essentially, I’m breaking-down the commercials and making fun of them.  If you are interested, read on.  Also, I’ll have the reader note that if they are bothered by the characterization of Bud Light drinkers as idiots, then perhaps it should be taken up with Bud itself.

Two commercials are particularly filling my mind.  Maybe those of you reading this have seen the commercials…here is the first.   The first involves a plane wreck on an island.  In the commercial, a woman finds the airplane’s radio and offers hope to the people of the plane crash. Essentially, she tells the other island members that she thinks this will get them off the island.  Right as she is wrapping up her good news, another person states that he has located the plane’s beverage storage and, guess what, it’s full of Bud Light.  At this point in the procession, people decide to abandon the hope of rescue for the hope of a few beers apiece (perhaps it’s the hope of re-hydration with water).  So, what’s the implication?

It appears that these morons are so shortsighted that a few free beers is better than rescue.  Aside from being cheapskates, don’t they realize that they can buy much more of their crappy product once their not under the oppression of death?  I get the implication.  The beer is so good that one would abandon the prospect of rescue for it.  However, what possible auspices would cause the denial of life for a vapid brew.  Furthermore, the idea of the commercial is counter-intuitive to the idea of consuming responsibly…something the brewer is eager to promote.  Instead, the party animals on the island forsake rescue because they love pounding them back so much.  I can almost hear the conch blowing in the distance.

The story begins with me tearing off 3500 square feet of shingles. Roofing. Horrific. But unfortunately, this world demands capital for survival, and having lost my job, regarding capital, I found myself lacking in that department.  So when the opportunity came to make a few shingles doing “handyman work” while I wait to land my dream job, I leaped at the opportunity, even though it meant  (a frequent victim of acrophobia) ascending Babel.

I worked hard.  Nearly 12 hours a day working muscles I didn’t know existed, not drinking an brew at night, and dreading the next day paid off unexpectedly.  The last day at the job, as I was cleaning up in the evening, the homeowner came up to me and said, “Young man, are you married.”

“Yes sir, I replied”

He suddenly placed a $1o0 bill in my hand and said, “I’ve been watching you work…you’re a hard worker, take your wife out to dinner.”

To be honest, I nearly shat myself.  I said thank you and pocketed the small fortune.  At the first instant of receiving the gift, I thought, “Sweet!  I can apply this to my mortgage!”  But after some thinking, I realized that I really should take my sweet wife out to dinner.  With five kids and floss string budget, it has been months since we’ve indulged in some alone time.  So we headed out to downtown Kansas City that coming Friday.

At “The Beer Kitchen” I threw up in mouth a little when I saw that a bottle of Monstre Rouge cost $36 and a 6 ounce pour of Brother Thelonius would run me $7.  Whatever.  This was a special night.  I ordered some forgettable French beer, a Brother Thelonius, and a burger.  My wife did the same.  It was good, and we still had a little bit of that $100 left, and the night was young.  I wanted a bottle of some Jolly Pumkin, but didn’t want to spend $25 on it, knowing that back in Ohio I could pick it up for $10.  So we paid our waiter and headed across the street to the Foundry.

Having never been there, I wasn’t sure what the beer menu would offer.  The place was swarming with tragic hipsters–typically a sign that good beer is around, but I’ve noticed that ever nook cranny of Kansas City seems to be crawling with tragic hipsters.  When I opened the beer menu and saw Jolly Pumpkin tap I think I giggled.  When I saw that a full 6 ounce pour was only $6, I think I slipped into hysterics…until I saw that it was La Parcela, Jolly Pumpkin’s tribute to the wacky weird of Pumpkin Ales.  This is one of the few Jolly Pumpkin beers I’ve not tried.

Talk about a rock and a hard place:  Hate pumpkin beer, love Jolly Pumpkin, In KC, missing home a bit, hipsters tragic mustache at the next table is creepy…yeah, I ordered it.

It was good.  Great.  It surpassed every every other beer in the category.  In fact, the pumpkin flavor was so peripheral, that it didn’t distract from that fact that what I was drinking was actually beer.  The bretty sourness worked so well with the spicy nature of the ale.  There’s no need to write an excessive review of the brew.  The world’s best pumpkin beer was just good, and it not only made some coveted alone time with my wife that much better, it made the hours on the roof, the sunburn, and the blisters on my hands worth it.