The last among the classic styles, Pilsner is the certainly not the least.  Of course, one cannot deny that the neo-classic styles of tomorrow are hitting markets and shelves during our time.  However, Pilsner remains the last and supreme style among the true classic brews.  But how does something first commercially brewed circa 1842 become so lastingly dominant?

Pilsner is perhaps like a band that makes it big time.  More than half the battle is being in the right place at the right time.  If that’s true of bands, Pilsner is the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and other great bands rolled into one. Several truly significant occurrences converged to make Pilsner skyrocket into ridiculous success, which was more than meteoric: modern drum roasting, yeast discovery/lager yeast, glassware, modern refrigeration, Saaz hops, steam power/industrial revolution.

Coke Fuel/Drum Roasting

Beers in the past were dark.  It’s a bit of a misnomer to say that they were all smokey, a fact I’ve learned since my first post about Pilsner as a style.  However, beers were certainly a dark affair, not that it mattered much because people, except the wealthy, drank from metal containers and even leather.  So, the brilliant clarity of the beer wasn’t a big deal anyway. And then in came coke fuel.

Coke fuel, which had future implications for the industrial revolution, was suggested for use  in the early 1600s. Ostensibly, it was a response to the rapid deforestation that was occurring in much of Europe. This might take you back to standardized tests, but here is the analogy: wood is to charred remains  as coal is to coke fuel. The problem with coal was that it would produce sulfur fumes—not a positive impact on malt—and it  could not be used directly.  The basic solution was, instead, to get the byproduct of coal, or coke fuel.

Coke fuel started to be used in malting circa 1642 in Derbyshire.  One of the more immediate results was better and more even roasting.  It was during this time that the Pale Ale was born.  Pale Ales are not necessarily or historically pale; they are simply pale in comparison to the beers that preceded the use of coke fuel.  So beers were, in fact, able to be lighter in color, although even these beers were darker than pilsner.  But they were about to get even lighter.

Fast forward about 200 years after coke fuel was thought of as a heat source when drum roasting had finally been born.  Although the earlier use of coke fuel helped to lighten beers, malting was not as even as it could be, and the grains would only allow for a certain color threshold.  In contrast, rotational roasting, made possible with the use of a drum, allowed for a more even roast, and by proxy, different types of specialty malts.  In the end a more even roast could be expected, and the pale malt that was born out of the older coke fuel process was no longer the palest.  The continual advance of even roasting ultimately led to better and better techniques and lighter grain coloring.

The malting techniques and the Tolar and Hanka barley varieties used by Josef Groll in Pilsen allowed for a particularly, comparatively speaking, light malt.  This speaks to why the color of the beer was such a novel sensation.  But that is not the only significant factor… yeast can also speak to several points, which I will talk about in the next post.

Just to let the reader know, there is some argument among us real nerds about whether this or that robust porter is, in fact, a stout.  I only mention this to say that there is some room for interpretation when it comes to whether or not something is a stout.  For me, it has always been a simplistic bifurcation that has helped make the distinction between porter and stout; namely, stouts have black patent malts or roasted barley, which make them darker, more robust, and more coffee-like/chocolate-like than porters.  As you might have guessed, color has something to do with whether or not a beer could be considered a stout.  Can’t we all see past this color thing?  On a serious note, stouts tend to be dark, dark brown to darker than midnight black.

I mentioned above that stout is an ale, not a lager.  There are black lagers, but they are not technically stouts for various reasons.  The above links will clarify further, but black lagers use lager yeast and tend not to use some of the black patent and roasted barley that stouts do.  The biggest factor is certainly the yeast strain.

Now that we have a little more clarification about stouts, what types of stout are there?  The possibilities are endless.  There are stouts out there that literally use oysters, chicory, coconut and a variety of other additions.  Let me just give a few typical styles.

Dry Irish Stout:  Guinness, Murphy’s, and numerous others fit into this category.  Dry Irish Stouts tend to be lower in alcohol and, as the name implies, drier.  Grain types, level of attenuation (the amount of sugar that is fermented), and water type play major roles in the perceived dryness of the style.

Milk Stout:  This type of stout does not actually have milk in it.  Technically, it uses lactose, which is milk sugar.  Since this type of sugar is not fermentable, it comes through as sweetness, which is also why you will often see this termed a Sweet Stout and Cream Stout.  Mackison’s is the most commonly known version (I think they have the original patent on the style name).  A good U.S. version is Left Hand’s Milk Stout.

Imperial/Russian Imperial Stout:  Most often, this is a big, bold, heavier stout.  There are versions that are less thick and cloying, but the dominant type seems to be the heavier and thicker varieties.  These stouts have higher alcohol, as high as 18% or so, often higher hop levels, and are just bigger beers.  Even the more restrained versions such as Nils Oscar and Samuel Smith’s are comparatively big against some other stouts.  American domestic versions tend to be beastly varieties.

Oatmeal Stout:  As you might have guess, this version of stout includes rolled, steel cut, or flaked oats in its production.  Lactose and other sweetness are optional additions.  These stouts tend to be big on flavor and have a definite oatmeal quality in taste.  A real treat.  Samuel Smith’s is the most common version, while there are many U.S. versions that have come out in recent history.

Chocolate Stout and Coffee Stout: Both of these varieties rely on the addition of extra coffee or chocolate. As I mentioned above, stouts already have these tones, which the brewer chooses to make more emphatic by adding those actual flavors.  Additions can be mild to extreme.  Coffee makes an impact in relatively small volumes, while chocolate takes a substantial amount to be discerned.

Barreled Stout: Recently, more and more brewers are aging/simulating aging their beers in barrels. Including wood chips soaked in alcohol or using actual barrels are two increasingly common occurrences in the brewing world.  Bourbon, sherry, wine and numerous other barrels are used, but bourbon seems to be the most common.  The flavors and alcohol associated with the wood in the barrels are imparted to the beer. Depending on the length of aging, the flavors can be mild to extreme.  Goose Island’s Bourbon County Stout is a  good example (par excellence, in my opinion) of the stronger versions.

Other stout varieties could be recalled and cited, but most are varieties of the ones mentioned above.

Well, beer, as we know it, did not actually actually exist in Mexico and many other countries until barley became available as a crop, so many of these countries have another ferment-able that is actually traditional alcohol for their country.  Corn, Agave, or whatever else serves to replace barley.  At any rate, once “the new world” was “discovered,” there was an influx of people, barley, and beer, which eventually made its way south of the border.

German immigrants from Bohemia are likely the people who first really got beer going in Mexico. Consequently, Mexican beers are actually German beers.  Of course, the corn, rice, or other adjunct can make its way into these Mexican beers.  Often, Cervezas have mild skunky qualities, which are normally associated with higher levels of particular chemicals that create the smell and taste (notably DMS).  Light-struck hops can also be a source.  At any rate, Cervezas are analogous to being a lager beer (or so it seems).  Thus, Cerveza has become a particular interpretation of a traditional lager, which seems to be enough to be considered a style.  This is really the style in a nut-shell.  If you want to read about what makes something a lager, here is our article on the subject.

What is a Brown Ale?

As is true with Ales in general, the Brown Ale uses top fermenting ale yeast.  Simple enough.  English versions tend to be sweeter and less hopped than the US varieties.  Beyond this, it seems like the beer would have to be brown to qualify.  Additionally, soft water is utilized in the production process, and the final color is somewhere between a Pale Ale and Porter.

Like Porter, this is one of those varieties of beer that is hard to very define.  However, some of the malts used in making a Brown Ale include mild, amber, brown and two row pale malt.  Additions of crystal, chocolate, caramel or biscuit malts can add character and color to the beer.  The “Nut Brown Ales” are often nutty because of the addition of a grain that gives a nutty perception, not an addition of actual nuts.  Sometimes treacle (English molasses), brown sugar, or molasses are added to obtain various flavor profiles.

While this overall description is not really sharp for defining a Brown Ale, I think it’s enough for us all to the see the freedom permitted within the style while putting limits on what characterizes a Brown Ale.

Kolsch, as a style, was initially made in Cologne, Germany. The official name wasn’t given until the early half of the 20th century, and much attempt has been made to protect it, such as only calling a Kolsch from Cologne by that name. Some non-Cologne breweries skirt the issue by simply calling their versions Kolsch-style beers. Whatever works!

As far as what a Kolsch actually is, it is technically considered an ale because it uses top fermenting yeast and is kept warmer during primary fermentation temperatures. Subsequently, it undergoes lagering for a period of time after primary fermentation. Because of the specific yeasts used and the lagering time, Kolsch beers are about the closest ales get to the cleanness and character of lager beers. This is why many people consider Kolsch a good summer beer.

In comparison to traditional (read “authentic”) versions of Pilsners, Kolsch is just shy on the bitterness level and has what some people describe as champagne-type qualities. It is a refreshing and semi-dry style of beer that is worth giving a try, especially on a hot spring or summer day. Enjoy a Kolsch, ladies and germs.

We are blessed to be living in the post-craft-brewing era of American beer history.  Prior to the early to mid 1980′s wheat beers were as unknown to the American populace as foreign trade is to Cuba.  To sample a wheat beer, one had to travel abroad, namely Belgium and Germany.  But when Americans started experimenting in their kitchens, they discovered this delicious category, and many others.

Simply put, wheat beers utilize wheat, unlike other beers that typically focus on barley.  That isn’t to say that other non-wheat grains are used in the brewing process, which is quite common and accounts for boundless varitey within the wheat beer category.  Because there are so many wheat beers, each variety cannot be accounted for in this post.

Often, wheat beer is feared due to its cloudy nature.  In fact, I remember the first wheat beer I drank (an American wheat) freaked me out a bit.  It looked like murky water drudged up from the depths of the Great Lakes!  But I plunged in anyway, and as result an eight year love affair with wheat beer has continually been fostered.  But why is wheat beer cloudy?  There are two main reasons.  First, wheat proteins become a part of the brew, unlike disturbed sediment.  You could let a wheat beer sit for a million years and it would still remain opaque.  Second, because of the nature of wheat beer, yeast particle naturally become suspended in the brew.  These will settle over time, however, upon opening a wheat, carbonation inevitable stirs and re-suspends at least some of the yeast.

Wheat Styles:

Heffeweizen is one of the best known and popular styles of wheat beer.  In fact, the famous Rheinheitsgebot (say that 5 times fast) purity law was altered to allow wheat as a beer ingredient just so that the German nobility could continue to legally drink this style.  Obviously, this is a German beer.  It is known for its spiced and light fruity flavors.  Heffeweizen is a southern Germanic beer known utilizing mit hefe (hefe:  German for “yeast”) the strain type that gives it its unique flavor.  While I note Heffeweizen first, it is just a sub category of German Weizenbier.

WeizenBier (or Weissbier) is the parent categor for Heffeweizen beer.  It ususally features at least 50% wheat malts.  Again, fruity spiced qualities are present, along with smooth mouth testures and bready notes.  There are many nutritional qualities present in these beer, and have been used for sustenance, not just enjoyment in the past.  Variations would include Dunkelweizen, a dark rich variation with chocolate notes and lest pronounced spice qualities, and Weizenbock, which is a bold, strong, and robust Weizenbier.

Berliner Weisse beers are a peculiar and lovely variety.  Some call them sour beer, as they intorduce bacterial strains (lactobacillus) into the wort along with the yeast.  The bacteria ferments the sugars along with the yeast but produce an extremely sour note.  Ulike all other beers, there is almost no bitterness present in this beer.

Belgian Wit beers are unusualy light, sweet, pleasent beers.  Unlike their German cousins, these brews are typically lighter in color and feature unmalted wheat and malted wheat barley.  Perhaps the most US known Belgian Wit is Blue Moon, although the popularity of the style should be credited to a small Texas Brewery (largely controlled by Miller now) called Celis brewery, who took his recipe from Hoegaarden, Belgium to the US, and revided a almost extinct style.

Belgian Lambics are the most refreshing style.  Charles Papazian has said that this beer “rates as one of the most intriguing, mysterious, and erotic styles of beer ever made.”  This is one raw beer!  Utiling wheat and barley, the wort is cooked and then dumped into open air vessels.  Wild yeast and bacteria native to a 15 square mile area in brussels settle from Belgian breezes into the brew.  Hops that have been allowed to sit at room temperature for years are used to slightly bitter the beer.  Native fruits are also introduced into the mix.   The result is not what you would expect.  The beverage is crisp, refreshing, sweet & sour, and expensive!  This divine beverage will make a beer lover out of anyone!

Undoubtedly, many styles have been left out of this article for the sake of space and brevity.  Wheat beers and their complementary yeast strains are one type of beer that can be enjoyed easily and quickly by anyone, regardless of experience, sex, culture, and palate.

What wheat beers do you fancy?

Belgian Red Ale, a.k.a., Flanders Red, a.k.a., Old Red

We are not talking about a Killian’s type beer here; rather, we are talking about a beer that tends to come from the West Flanders region of Belgium. This style has been called (by Michael Jackson) the world’s most refreshing beer. Vienna malt is the primary grist for this beer, which aids in giving the beer a red color. Once the beer is made, it is put in oak for about a year. This gives the beer a tartness and acidity that is unparalleled in the world of beers. Strangely, this beer is simultaneously loved and hated. I joke that it’s the Creed (the band) of beers: you either love it or hate it. I absolutely adore the style, but my brother hates it with a passion. If you don’t like a sour or tart beer, you probably won’t like it. If you like sour or tart, you’ll love this beer. Rodenbach is the easiest to find version.

Grand Cru:

Normally a celebration Ale, this beer is hard to define. It is Belgian, usually strong in alcohol, and pale. There are various versions of this beer that can be found. Since it is hard to define and not really an “official” (read legal) appellation, there are American breweries that have started making this “style.”

Belgian Strong Ale:

Alcohol-wise, these beers are like Barley Wine. These are also more wine-like than malty, which separates them from Barley Wine. The hops in this type of beer are also more restrained. Candy sugars or invert sugars are able to achieve high levels of fermentation and attenuate (thin down) the beer and give it a lighter feel than a heavy malt beer. Of course, they still use plenty of malt, just not exclusively.

Saison:

From the French speaking area of Belgium, these beers are usually bottled and corked like wine. They are matured for months on end and broken out during the hot summer days. The beer was originally a complex-tasting thirst quencher, which lends itself to being somewhat of a session beer (i.e., you could have a few). These are typically made in farmhouse breweries. So, if you see American, Belgian, or other versions of this beer, they might be called a Farmhouse Ale. I’ve found that these beers have a nice spiciness from being dry hopped. Saison Dupont is the easiest authentic Belgian version that can be found in the U.S.

Trappist Ale:

Trappist is made by one of 6 breweries in Belgium or 1 in the Netherlands. No one else makes a Trappist Ale that can be termed as such. This style of beer must be made in one of 7 Trappist monasteries to be called a Trappist. The six Trappist producers are Chimay, Rochefort, Orval, Westmalle, Westvleteren (good luck getting a hold of one of these), La Trappe (also called Koningshoeven) and Achelse Kruis. All of these are made by monks in the monastery. So, unless your Trappist is one of these, then it’s not a Trappist. There doesn’t seem to be a set way or style to which a Trappist must conform, being that the important part is where and by whom it is made.

Just by way of clarification, Westvleteren only takes orders by phone and only reluctantly. They are also the only one among the 7 that only employs monks who are a part of the Abbey. I was reading a book by Sam Calagione and Tim Hampson, in which they talk about this monastery and its attitude. Here are two points that they emphasize. First, the monks brew to pray (i.e., they do it as a means of support), not pray in order to sell. Here is a quote from Joris (who is responsible for the brewing): “We refuse to go into an endless spiral of producing more, then having to sell more, and bring more brothers into the process, or even having to hire outside staff.” I take it he’s not a venture capitalist. Unless you’re in Belgium and specifically call this place, it’s pretty unlikely that your going to get a hold of this.

Trappists often come in Doubles or Triples, and there are many varieties in between. Most are moderately strong to very strong in alcohol content, usually 6-10% ABV. They also tend to be fruity and lightly hopped. In addition, they often use candy sugars to give a more malty impression to their beer. They are also top-fermented, which makes them Ales. There is a German counterpart to a Trappist called a Kloisterbier.

Abbey Ales:

Abbey Ales are beers which are often styled after Trappist Ales but cannot be called Trappist because they weren’t produced in a monastery. Abbey Ales are called such because they usually attach the name of a former monastery to their beers. Once again, there are not really any strict guidelines as to what constitutes an Abbey Ale. They tend to 6-8% ABV and have many of the same qualities mentioned above (fruity, etc.). These beers are often full-flavored and wine-like in quality.

Double (Dubbel) and Tripel Ales:

A Dubbel or Tripel Ale usually a subcategory of an Abbey Ale or a Trappist Ale. The original reason behind calling a dubbel by it’s name had to do with the notion that it had twice the gravity of common beer. This would make it more flavorful and stronger in alcohol. It would follow that one would assume that a tripel is three times the gravity of a common beer. This is not necessarily the case, but it can be approximately true. Both of these types can be pretty strong, often 7-11%, the stronger being a Tripel.

I would encourage anyone to try both types of these beers; they are delicious. This is especially true of Trappist Ales.

Defining porter as a beer is somewhat illusive, so I’m going to offer what seem to be some agreed on principles about what a porter is.  First of all, a porter is an ale.  What I mean by calling it an ale is that it is brewed using ale yeast at ale temperatures.  I’ve provided some links for those who wish to read up on what these terms are referring to.  A porter is dark but not as dark as a stout.  Porter as a style tends to use darker grains but avoids roasted barley, which often gives a stout its coffee, roasted, and burnt grain qualities.  So, this is one other aspect that a porter might have. 

Porters can be either robust or brown by name with varying degrees of sweetness and hop content.  I tend to think of porters as being at least slightly sweet and pretty smooth in nature.  Beyond this, people will argue about exactly what else defines a porter as a beer.

But from where does the name come?  Allegedly, the name comes from the fact that this style of beer was wildly popular among the working class in England, especially porters.  There, you have the supposed origin of the name.

But what about the mad genius behind the style?  Well, here is how the story goes.  In England, there were essentially three types of beer to be had in the 1700s.  “Ale” was strong, “beer” was a weak version (probably weak in alcohol, grain content, and harsh/young), and “two-penny,” which was the in-between ale.  Within these there were varying pale, amber, and brown versions of each.  Since many people couldn’t afford the best ale but hated the youngest (and were not too fond of the two-penny), they would call on the landlord to mix the various ales: “Give us three-threads,” they might say.  This could be time consuming and irritating for a bar-man to have to do, so (ostensibly) a man name Ralph Harwood basically made this product at the brewery.  Thus, the beer known as porter was born.  I’m sure there is a lot of truth to this account, but we will probably never know.

What we do know about porter is that it was wildly popular, at least until the lager revolution.  The style actually almost became extinct until revived by homebrewers and others who cared about this wonderful, historic style.  Porter was actually George Washington’s favorite beer.  I guess if you like porters, you are in good company.

Let’s get one thing straight to begin with, lambic is the type of beer, and Framboise, Pomme, Cassis and the like are appellations added to tell you what fruit was added to the lambic.  There is a good amount of area to cover, so let’s get going.

Lambic, as is the case with many beers, was given its moniker because its origin was the town of Lembeek in Belgium.  There is essentially a 15-square-mile area (near Brussels) where wild yeasts and bacteria are optimal (and unique) for this style to exist.  The yeast and bacteria fall into traditional wooden fermentation vessels (open for the yeast to infiltrate) and sour this beer.  It usually contains 30 to 40% raw wheat, which probably accounts for the cloudiness of the beer.  The beer must contain at least 30% wheat by law.  Typically the beer is very lightly hopped (the hops are also intentionally staled), citrusy, and cloudy.  As far as the hops go, they are often intentionally staled and years old (aged intentionally at room temp).  This is only the first stage.

The beers are moved and stored up to three years in wooden vessels, which also add character and desirable micro-organisms to the Belgian Ale.  Various things are done after the beers have or are aging, which give the beer its various names or styles.

It is not often that you find a true lambic with nothing added.  I have personally not tried one…yet.  However, let’s talk about the various beers that you come across under the name of lambic.  First, there are the various fruit versions of the beer, which have had fruit added during the brewing process (usually at the end).  Framboise is a raspberry lambic, peche is peach, cassis is black currant, pomme is apple and kriek is cherry.  The fruit is tremendously evident in all these.  Fruit lambics are a mixture of a sour tartness and  dessert sweetness.  They are half champagne and half beer in approach.  I personally think they are utterly delightful.  There are other version that have the almost complete attenuation of the fruit sugars, making the beer more tart, dry, and interesting.  I prefer the fruit-in-the-back versions.

Gueze is another Lambic that you will find.  A Gueze mixes and old and new lambic and is not flavored, so you are coming closer to the real deal.  The last to mention is Faro, which combines a strong alcohol and low alcohol lambic and then adds dose of sugar.  Faro is the sweetest of the three.

There is a lot that goes into a beer like this, which is why it is so rewarding to drink.  A 12-ounce bottle can be $6-8, but it is worth it.  I don’t know how many women that “don’t like beer” love this one.  It’s sort of my default recommendation for someone to try, if for no other reason, to show them how wild the world of beer can be.  I don’t know if there is a more unique, soft, dry, intruiging or odd beer in the world.  It’s been called the world’s most refreshing beer and the champagne of beers.  You’ve got to try one.