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.

Like many craft beer nerds, we’ve had a love/love a little less (but not hate!) relationship with Brew Dog.  We’ve enjoyed many of their beers, we’ve liked that they push the boundaries of what ‘beer’ should be, we stood by their side as they were slammed by the critics for their first high alcohol brew (32%), but got a little irritated as they went hog wild trying to hold the title of ‘brewer of the world’s strongest beer.’  That being said, I had never tried Hardcore IPA…a more standard offering of the brewery.  I’ve had their Punk IPA, but it didn’t do much for me.  I’ve heard mixed reviews about Hardcore IPA, so I kept my expectations at a minimum.  And they were drastically surpassed.

Hardcore IPA was EXCELLENT…far more worthy of the B rating it receives on Beer Advocate…but I’ve never been to put much stock in lemming mentality.  I am not going to wax poetic on the qualities of the beer…just go try it for yourself.  BUT, I do want to point out a few observations.

Hardcore IPA does not taste like your standard American craft Double IPA that is bursting at the seams with flavoring hops, usually of the cascade variety.  In fact, Hardcore IPA is more along the lines of an American Barleywine, where the hops qualities are more of a subtlety.  Does everything have to be so damn hoppy all the time?  Don’t get me wrong…I love me some hops.  But when everybody is brewing the same things the same way, you won’t find me there.

The fact that Hardcore IPA could be classified (and rightly so) as a Double IPA (or as Beer Advocate states and “American” Double IPA–waht?!?!) shows that there is a LOT of ambiguity still amongst beer classifications.  One person’s IPA is another’s Barley Wine, and can be classified as such either way. What really hit me is the difference between two nation’s versions of Double IPA and general brewing style altogether.  Part of the reason I liked Hardcore IPA was that it occurred to me while drinking it, that IF the IPA style existed also in the form of a Double back in the early to mid 1800s, I think it would have tasted a lot like Hardcore IPA (brewed in Fraserburgh, Aberdeenshire).  The beer is very English/Scottish…and not very American…which is a part of its appeal.  I suppose that may be part of the reason the beer doesn’t fare so well on Beer Advocate.  Beer nerds see “Double IPA” and expect the bombastic enamel-eating highly alpha acids that they’re used to.

Ehhh…drink what you like…not what everyone else likes.

It happened again last night.  A coworker of mine mentioned to a consultant working with us that I brewed beer.  Her response sent me recoiling (on the inside) in horror.  I cannot bear to repeat those words again, and certainly not a third time, due to the fear of accidentally summoning a Burtonesque Beetlejuice-like character.  When I recovered from the sheer shock, I offered a potent rebuttal.  My normal response is first to state, in no uncertain terms, that the person in question actually likes beer but just happens not to know it yet.  The second tier of this robust response is to ask the following question: “What beers have you had?”

Almost without variation the answer to the question is neatly nestled in the barren lands of the big five (or however many they are lately; one can never tell how many there are these days…conglomeration is so confusing).  Once prodded, their tongues are loosened and the mystery is typically unravelled.  Sometimes I ask what sorts of flavors the person likes, talk some more, and beseech them by all that is true and holy to give it another go or two.  Sometimes these persons just keep going and dig a little deeper to say that they once had a Newcastle or other beer and thought it was okay.  Well, that is something one can work with.

Please do not misconstrue what I am saying.  There are actually those people existing in the world whose unfortunate genetic predisposition punishes them with the predilection of casting an unfriendly eye toward this nectar of the gods.  And that spell, my friend, is not easily cast aside.  Yet, I have seen even that mystical hold broken by the logic of good beer.  Why am I casting suspicion and doubt on my fellow citizens and countrymen (and countrywomen)?  It is because they drink wine.

Before you see red (or white), allow me to explain.  I think wine is terrific.  I truly love a bold, dry, oak tannin filled red.  There are times when an Asti is almost divine… but let’s not get carried away (after all it is not beer, which is why I said “almost”).  Anyway, this is where my theory may seem less tenable but let us suppose that those who can drink ripe, tart, sometimes sour, sometime cloying sweet, even mildly “offense” wine could reasonably tolerate various styles of beer.  Let us suppose that it really is not a matter of taste.  Instead, let us assume it is simply a matter of exposure.  This opens up a new world entirely.

I have seen, on several occasions, not the single batting of an eye over a $15 bottle of Reisling.  Of course this is seen as reasonable and acceptable.  Take that same person and ask them to spend $9 on a 750 ml bottle of beer that is of the same or greater strength and they will bat both eyes and help you to the nearest mental facility.  What is wrong with this picture?

If you have not guessed already I am attempting to build a case that perception is key when it comes to this issue.  For the record (and according to past iterations of this discussion we have posted), I think French Gastronomy has a massive and unrecognized link to wine’s pedigree while snubbing “little brother beer”.  Beer has its work cut out for it because it is fundamentally viewed and associated as unrefined among many people.  So why keep trying it?

But wine has the distinct advantage of “I’m going to like it, come hell or high water”.  I know several people who have weaved wine narratives that goe along the lines of:  1. Did not start out liking it.  2.  Found one or two they liked.  3. Came to appreciate other wines.  4. Started genuinely enjoying various styles.  5. Loves a good wine no matter what style.

Perhaps the point, if I can be viewed as having made a cogent argument or even a point at all, emerges.  Why not give beer another chance?  I know you do not like it, I know you can find one or two you might like, I know you will even come to appreciate some beers you might have not formally liked, perhaps you can start enjoying various styles, and maybe you will come to appreciate a good beer no matter the style.  Please do not write off a whole category based on a few bad apples.

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.

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!

My thunder for this post was a bit stolen in the comments section in my previous post by Sean Inman and Big Tex, but hey…great minds think alike, right?

So when is inconsistency a desired quality?

Special releases (including certain seasonals).  Dark Lord, the yearly special release that hails from 3 Floyds comes to mind.  In order to get this beer, an individual has to stay awake into the wee hours of the night to purchase special tickets.  Then, they must travel to Munster, Indiana as the beer is only sold by 3 Floyds at the brewery on that day.  Then the individual must wait in hour all day, just to buy a limited quantity of the beer.  Now, if this special Dark Lord kept a consistent recipe, I doubt that the hype surrounding it nor the anticipation of drinking it would be so intense.

I noticed that come of the older bigger craft breweries in the past few years–noting the trend in the craft community that values these intentionally brewed anomalies–have brewed outside of the boundaries of their classic lineup to include specialties.  Boulevard’s Smokestack series comes to mind.

But, not all special releases should be different year in, year out.  For example…for the most part, when I pick up a bottle of Dogfish Head’s Aprihop, I want it to taste like last years Aprihop.  And let’s face it…it would be pretty awful if Spaten suddenly through a curveball in their Oktoberfest recipe.

On a side note, sometimes the fluid nature of special releases ends up being a bit of a bummer.  For example, I recently heard that 3 Floyds was aging this year’s Dark Lord on Whiskey barrels.  If this is the case, I doubt I’ll be heading to Dark Lord Day 2011.  I’m not a huge fan of bourbon aged stouts.

What special releases do you most look forward to?  Personally, Jolly Pumkin’s Perseguidor gets me going.

Nate and I love craft beer brewers and don’t exactly keep it a secret.  I’m personally one of the first to give craft brewers acclamation and praise where it’s due.  And I also make it an effort to be honest about my experiences and interactions with them.  It’s from that place that this post comes, so I hope you understand that I’m not being vindictive when I write this next bit; I’m simply being honest about the one craft beer jerk out there whom I’ve met.

As many of you know, Nate and I want to start our own brewery in a few years.  Any experience that I can get on a commercial level in the meantime is invaluable for our future venture.  As a result, I check in with craft brewers from time to time to see if they need some help (I now have a bit of experience to add to the equation).  Let me set the stage: when I first moved to CA I emailed a couple of brewers in Southern California to see if they needed any help.  Of the two that I emailed, one responded to me.  He told me that he was sorry and that he’d like to be able to help but couldn’t.  Later on, he got back with me, and I actually worked there for a bit.

The other person never bothered to email me back.  I understood, I really did.  Brewers are extremely busy people, and I’m sure they have a lot of emails to go through on top of working long and thankless days.  I fully expect this to be our situation when we get off the ground.  Disappointed, yes.  Angry, not in the least.  Fast forward to yesterday.  Having looked up the location and driven over to this brewery, I pulled in and started talking to a brewer.  He informed me that the owner (the one I’d emailed before) was out getting them some lunch.  Sounds like a good guy, I thought.  Anyway, the brewer was a really nice guy.  We chatted for a few minutes, and he had plenty of time to talk and shoot the breeze, so it didn’t seem things were a rush at the moment.

As I was asking him if the brewery needed any help, the owner pulled up, brought the lunch in, and set it down.  Looking askance, he seemed not to take much note of me.  The brewer identified him as the owner, and I proceeded to tell him my name.  Then I asked him whether they were in need of any help.  Obviously, I expected a yes or no answer.  If yes, I figured some follow up questions about qualifications and experience would ensue.  If no, I figured I’d maybe get a “Sorry, we don’t need help right now,” or “We’d like to, but we just can’t have any more people because we just don’t sell enough to justify employing them.”  Something like that.  You get the idea. Which is why I was so surprised a moment later.

“Nope” was all I got, and the owner walked away like I was simply an insignificant worm.  No dignifying of my presence, no explanation, no interaction with me at all.  Now I’m not an overly sensitive person, but between the short verbal and attitude, I was scarred for life.  Hearing the word no isn’t an issue for me.  They either did or they didn’t have a job.  Approach is everything, though.  Forgive me for demanding some civility from people, but “no” and simply walking away is a rude and ineffective approach to dealing with people. And now the unreturned email is making a little more sense, too.

(By the way, he wasn’t that busy.  He went to the office and sat down.  And if he was busy, he could have said so and I would have understood.)

It seems to me that it is in a craft brewer’s best interest to be affable to those people with whom they interact, especially those in their local market.  After all, those are the people who will say either good or ill about the product.  Beyond that, those people may have a site where they can actually promote a product and at least tell people how good a line-up is or what a great person a brewer is.  Either way, being an ass very rarely pays dividends.  I pledge, here and now, that this will never be the case when Nate and I are off the ground.

I’d like to be able to tell you how good or bad the products from this brewery are (I’ve tried a couple), but I won’t be able to.  Why? Because I’ll never buy a product from this brewery under any circumstances.  I’m not looking to be appeased, nor do I want an apology, and I certainly don’t want an explanation about how it was a misunderstanding…I know better than that.  What I do want our readers to know is that there are a ton of great craft brewers out there who are some of the best people on the planet but Craftsman Brewery’s owner, Mark Jilg, in Pasadena, California, in my experience, is not one of them.

Let me tell you that they have some info on their site already and are exclusively focusing on California craft beer.  Too often I’ve seen places that claim 200 taps–but when you get there they’ve got commonplace stuff and very little room for personal decision, and one of the first casualties these establishments is local/area craft beer (instead, Leinenkugel’s Sunset Wheat is on tap); no local stouts, only national ones, can be found.

California has some great breweries and some terrific beers.  It’s with this in mind that I commend Tony’s to you, especially those of you who are locally minded.  Let’s shore up the foundations of California beer by supporting this place when it opens.  Spread the word and your arms…get some brew at Tony’s.  Have a look at the beer list.

At my usual bottle shop tonight I examined a 750 ml bottle of Brooklyn Brewery’s latest release of Black Ops, again, for the second week in a row.  There was a certain amount of hype going into the release of this beer, and rightfully so.  The ever respectable Garret Oliver put a considerable amount of TLC into this beer:  11.6%, aged in oak bourbon barrels, and bottle conditioned with champagne yeast.

I first saw Black Ops over a weak ago, but did not purchase it, simply because I am typically not partial to bourbon beers, and I was not keen on dropping $18.00 on a beer I was not guaranteed to fall head over heels for.  This week–however–I caved.  Here is why:

As I stood examining the bottle and reading the label an individual exclaimed incredulously, “That’s a lot of money for a bottle of beer!“  The man was not being rude…he was just quite shocked at the price.  He had been talking wine–not beer–with the store staff.  Nick, the knowledgeable beer geek on staff quickly explained that while there were only 1000 or so cases of black ops produced, his store chain had received only five cases of Black Ops statewide, and here in Toledo, only two cases had made it.  That’s 24 bottles of this one singularly unique beer for one metropolis of 651,000 potential Black Ops consumers.  Besides the finer ingredients and aging, it seems that obscurity (supply and demand) boosted the value of this beer.  After my wife pointed out that I hadn’t bought beer in several weeks, I purchased a bottle that will go into my cellar for a while.  The man behind me was quite interested, and perhaps may dabble in beer.

While Nick satisfied the shopper’s curiosity, as I peeped into his cart and saw several bottles of what appeared to be mid range wine, I considered engaging him in further conservation.  Is $18.00 really a shocking price for a 750 ml bottle of this quality of beer?  The few bottles of wine in his cart easily cost between $15 and $45 per bottle (I strolled down the aisle he had picked them from and eyeballed the price tags), and I doubt they were as obscure as the Black Ops.  I will give him that his wine most has age to weight the value; most likely it was aged three years.  But then again, respectively, my Perseguidor, also aged three years, was just over $20.00 for 750 ml ($10.00/12 ounces).

If Milwaukee’s Best is the moderate standard for determining a costly beer, than perhaps Black Ops is a tad pricey.  But is Boone’s farm the determinate for leveraging the value of a fine wine?  My boss, an experienced wine connoisseur, recently told me that a well rated wine runs a minimum of $75/per bottle; with Boone’s Farm as the standard, that well rated wine or even the $30 bottle in the inquisitive man’s cart is outrageous.  But if we are able to lump beer and wine in the same general family of “alcohol” and use the mid range $30 bottle good wine in his cart as the standard, the Black Ops is actually a bargain. The highly rated wine is $2.96/ounce (mid range about $1.50/ounce) while the highly rated beer is $.71 per ounce.

In perspective, even the pricier craft brews are actually quite inexpensive.

Like many of you, I am not in a position in life to fill my shopping cart each weekend with loads of craft beer.  Yes, it is more expensive than what the majority of American beer drinkers consume, but the trade off is I drink less.  But, compared to other fine beverages, like wine, I am able to drink more and, as per my preferences, I enjoy it more!

So next time you shell out ten or more dollars for that bomber or 750 ml bottle of special release or seasonal beer, I hope you cringe a little bit less as you consider the more costly alternatives in the vast world of alcohol.