Top Shelf Thursday: June 2013, California

Another Top Shelf Thursday has come & gone.  We’d had some requests for a menu that would satisfy the hopheads, but didn’t exactly want to do ten IPAs back-to-back (palate fatigue, anyone?).  We decided to do a spotlight on California, arguably the nation’s best beer state.  This focus would, naturally, include some great hop-heavy ales while also showing some of the versatility of the Golden State’s brewers.  California, here we come!

We landed in California via Belgium, starting things off with Russian River’s Redemption, a pale abbey-style single.  A style rarely seen & traditionally brewed by monks as their “house beer”, Russian River’s example was light, effervescent, & dry with some solid bready notes.  Orchard White, from The Bruery, offered a twist on a Belgian-style witbier, incorporating lavender into the traditional mix of wheat, coriander, & orange peel.  This seemed to be a surprise hit of the evening - far from gimmicky, the lavender blended superbly with the other seasonings, emphasizing the citrus & lending a smooth airiness that really elevated this elegant style.  These two subtle, well-executed beers showed that Cali brewers can really nail Belgian styles.

We ventured into solidly west coast territory with a slew of hopped-up ales, beginning with the classic AleSmith IPA.  AleSmith hits it out of the park with this no-frills IPA, full of citrus & a little pine flavor, bright & buoyant, not overwhelming or destroying the tastebuds.  The collaboration between Sierra Nevada & Delaware’s Dogfish Head, dubbed “Rhizing Bines”, presented an unusual flavor & aroma for a double IPA.  Atypically sweet with notes of mint & anise, some found this one a little challenging, possibly from dry-hopping with an experimental hop breed HB 644.  One guest said it smelled like pet store (not that that’s anything wrong with that!).  Hangar 24’s Double IPA hit more familiar notes.  In addition to more traditional “C” hops, it uses Citra for a fruity character & Simcoe for that underlying “cattiness”, as well as orange blossom honey.  Everyone expected Ballast Point’s Dorado to be one hoppy monster based on the description of its process – it’s mash-hopped, first wort-hopped, kettle-hopped, & dry-hopped.  What they found was that, while having an assertive hop presence, it was pretty well-balanced & did not kill the palate.  And rounding off the foray into IPAs was Port Brewing’s Anniversary Ale.  Described as an ‘Imperial Pale Ale’, it had a resiny, dank bitterness & citrusy hop flavor that stood up well to the 10% ABV, & received accolades from many in attendance. 

As always, there were some who went into the “IPA movement” of the tasting with some prejudice, but left with a little more appreciation of what this family of ales has to offer.  Nonetheless, everyone was happy to try the next: the Class of ’88 Barleywine, from North Coast in collaboration with Deschutes & Rogue.  Both team effort & history lesson, it gave a pleasing, malty respite from the gauntlet of hopped-up beers we’d just tasted.  AleSmith once again proved that they can brew an excellent Belgian-style ale, with the 2012 edition of their Decadence anniversary ale.  An abbey-style quadruple, it gave off rich, warming notes of raisin, fig, rum, & chocolate, & was surprisingly smooth for 12% ABV.  And capping off the evening was The Bruery’s Rye Barrel-Aged Smoking Wood, a smoked rye imperial porter aged in rye whiskey barrels (whew!).  A complex beer that could’ve easily been an unwieldy mess, The Bruery nailed it with a smooth & full-bodied blend of smoke, roast, & spicy oak character that meshed instead of competing.

Being that America’s craft beer movement was born in California, it only makes sense that such a variety of bold & innovative beers are being made there today, & we really saw the quality & versatility of some of the state’s top brewers.  There are many, many more where they came from – we sampled just eight out of over 400 in the state!  But these beers are more evidence again that the US is truly the best place to be for beer right now.  Hope you can join us next month!

The Mysteries of Lambic

Lambic’s that girly beer, right?  That sweet, syrupy, berry-flavored beer-that-doesn’t-taste-like-beer?  Served in a flute for your girlfriend/wife when you want to impress her, or there are no wine coolers available?  And all lambic has a pink head, right?  NO!  First of all, stop being so sexist & condescending.  And B, there’s waaay more to the world of lambics than that ubiquitous raspberry example whose name everyone mispronounces (yeah, you’re supposed to say the ‘s’).  Nothing against Brouwerij Lindemans – they make a damn good sweetened lambic if that’s what you seek.  But the larger drinking community has been given a biased view of what lambic can be based on the commercial success of just one example.   

In truth, many lambics are complex, rustic, organic beers.  One using more flowery language might call them romantic, enigmatic, mystical.  They are fascinating examples of a near-extinct method of producing beer, one that invites & incorporates the environment rather trying to wrest control from it & shut it out.  The hot side of brewing a lambic is its own ball of strange, as lambic brewers use a large proportion of unmalted wheat in a turbid mash, creating a thick, goopy wort that’s barely filtered.  That’s right: lambics are wheat beers.  And instead of the fresh hops on which most brewers put a premium, lambic brewers used aged hops.  It’s still not clear to me why this is practiced; aged hops lose their bright character, turning cheesy & hay-like, but these notes are boiled off in the kettle anyway.  The popular reasoning is that lambic brewers are just interested in the preservative qualities of the hops, but my hunch is that the practice started out of necessity & has continued by tradition without anyone really knowing why.  Again, just a hunch.  After mashing, lambics go through a looong boil – we’re talking five or six hours, a stay in the kettle usually reserved for the biggest malt-monsters, which lambics certainly are not. 

When the wort hits the cool side, the magic starts.  The hot wort is pumped into a large, shallow, rectangular vessel known as a koelschip (“cool ship”), usually right under the brewery’s vented roof.  Overnight, the wort cools & the vents usher in the area’s native microflora – wild yeast & bacteria - who camp out in the delicious, sugary liquid.  When the wort is good & inhabited, it’s transferred to open wooden casks where it ages, allowing the zoo of microscopic critters to gorge itself.  Really, it’s more like a rain forest than a zoo, with its own ecosystem of bugs: species of enteric bacteria, lactic bacteria, saccharomyces, brettanomyces, acetobacter, kloeckera, & who knows what else.  Each of them have their go at the wort in their own time, some taking months to fully develop & metabolize – it’s a fascinating process if you’re into microbiology!  The lambic develops alcohol, acidity, & all sorts of funky, complex flavors: tart lemon, vinegar, fruitiness, vinous flavors, that famous barnyard/horse blanket character. 

One can argue that lambic is never really “finished” fermenting, but once it reaches a certain point – at least a year – it is blended with different vintages & bottle-conditioned to create gueuze, or refermented with fruit to create kriek, framboise, peche, etc., sweetened to create faro or more commercial lambics, or bottled as a straight lambic.  These funky beers are indigenous to the Senne River Valley in Belgium, & there is some controversy as to whether they can be produced elsewhere.  Many old school lambic breweries, protective of their craft, say no; others (including the brewer of Cantillon), have encouraged American brewers to try their own hand at spontaneously-fermented, eco-inclusive brews.  Allagash has had success with their own coolship – watch a video of their endeavor here.  We at House of 1000 Beers are thrilled to carry some great examples of both sweetened & “traditional” lambics, such as St. Louis Gueuze Fond Tradition, Oud Beersel Framboise, & Lindemans Cuvee Rene on the dry side, & the Lindemans & Timmermans lines on the sweet.  We’ve recently had some of the big names of lambic grace our shelves as well, from Belgium’s esteemed Cantillon & Drie Fonteinen breweries.  These beers are terrific paired with some funky washed-rind or blue cheeses, their close cousins in the food family tree.  And it shouldn’t come as surprise that they’re not cheap, given the time & care put into these sensitive brews.  There’s an occasion for the sweet, viscous  fruit lambics you can find on tap at most good beer bars, but there’s a whole other dimension to these wild beers.

Top Shelf Thursday: May 2013, The Tart & the Horsey

Another group gathered for our monthly Top Shelf Thursday tasting this past week, sampling ten beers that are a little off the beaten path.  We had enough response to The Sour & The Funky tasting during Pittsburgh Craft Beer Week a month ago that we decided to reprise the theme of sour & wild ales this time around, for those whose schedules or budgets prohibited them from attending the main event, or those who might have just wanted more.  Though the brews featured ran the spectrum from very sour to surprisingly sweet, the criterion for inclusion was that the beer be fermented with some agent instead of or in addition to saccharomyces, the yeast used to ferment most ales & lagers.  This could be some combination of the “wild” yeast brettanomyces (brett), or souring bacteria.  Brewers achieve this by intentionally pitching these “bugs”, through spontaneous fermentation (such as lambic brewers use), or aging in barrels with known micro-inhabitants.

Things got going with a trio of wheat-based beers, each very different from the next.  The first was Whiteout from Anchorage Brewing, a Belgian-style witbier made with lemon peel, black peppercorn, & coriander & aged in French chardonnay barrels with brett.  It was light & spicy, with just a touch of tartness & hints of vanilla & oak that gave this familiar style an interesting twist.  The Reserve Wheat from Telegraph Brewing delivered a more assertive sourness.  Based on the sour German wheat style Berliner weisse, the Reserve Wheat was rounded out by the addition of lemon verbena, a shrub with a strong lemon scent.  One of the more challenging offerings was the Gueuze Fond Tradition from Brouwerij Van Honsebrouck, a blend of multiple vintages of lambic.  Gueuze typically carries a complex profile of acidic sour & organically funky flavors, & while some in attendance thrilled to the wild character, others found it to be too much & made their way to the dump bucket.

We headed further into Belgian territory next, tasting several Flanders-style sours – reds & oud bruins, characterized by a sweet/tart balance & acetic flavors, reminiscent of vinaigrette.  Many agreed that the Bellegems Bruin from Brouwerij Bockor was a good introduction to this genus, as its delivery was mellow & balanced while still hitting all the right notes.  The Red Poppy, from The Lost Abbey in California was a bit more intense, sour, & dry, emphasized by their use of sour cherries & aging in oak barrels for a tannic quality.  The Duchesse de Bourgogne, from Brouwerij Verhaege, offered up a very round, full-bodied flavor, again with notes of cherry, dark fruit, & balanced by a moderate vinegar pucker that was not too harsh.  It’s safe to say this was the unofficial flight favorite – those new to the Duchesse really enjoyed it, & those who’d had it before were looking forward to a revisit.  This Flemish excursion ended with Goudenband (“gold label” in Dutch) by Brouwerij Liefmans, a classic oud bruin that skewed to the malty side, with some grape notes & an overall “darker” flavor.

The final three were very distinct, each showing some sour or funk in their own way, beginning with Sour in the Rye from The Bruery.  Made with 40% rye malt, this American wild showed a little spiciness from the rye which was almost overwhelmed by the intensely puckering & tannic profile imparted by aging in oak barrels for over a year.  Moving onto sweeter ground, many found Cisco Brewers’ Pedaler Bike Path Blueblerry Bleer interesting.  A blueberry ale aged in oak with brett & other bugs, it had a lighter & airy character that some described as soapy, floral, or perfumy – flavors not usually found in this style.  Rounding off the evening was the eccentric Goedenacht (“good night”, appropriately), made by Draai Laag Brewing right down the road in Millvale.  This strong Belgian-style golden ale is made with apples, orange blossom honey, & coriander, providing components of a mead & cider.  To add to the fun, it’s fermented with a farmhouse strain & brett, though any brett character is fairly subdued by the other strong flavors frolicking throughout the beer.  Goedenacht also has one of the more bizarre labels folks had seen, a conversation piece in & of itself.

So there’s another fun evening of gathering & tasting in the books!  As always, not everyone liked everything, but I don’t think anyone left feeling disappointed or cheated.  There were some challenging brews, but everyone found something to their liking, even those who admitted they were not sour fans going in.  It was interesting to see, even in such a niche & esoteric family of beers, there’s enough diversity & complexity that just about everyone can find something that speaks to them.

Great Lakes Turns 25

1988 was a good year for craft beer in America.  Phil Eckhardt’s The Essentials of Beer Style was published, one of the first tomes to document what have since become the recognized styles of beer across the world.  A number of the elder statesmen of craft beer were founded (though at the time, the term microbrewery had not yet fallen out of vogue), including three from the West Coast –  Oregon’s Deschutes & Rogue, & California’s North Coast - & two from the Midwest – Chicago’s Goose Island & Cleveland’s Great Lakes.  It’s encouraging to see these mainstays still going strong, & I bet some of them never expected to be where they are now – especially Goose Island.  In the spirit of commemoration, Deschutes has spearheaded a series of collaborations dubbed Class of ’88, teaming up with different combos from this group & releasing some pretty interesting brews. 

We’re proud to say that one of the alum from this class is right in our backyard.  Great Lakes has been a stalwart in the area, with a relatively limited distribution up until the last few years.  They’ve focused on putting out solid, quality brews & knocking out a really great regular line-up – their Dortmunder Gold & Edmund Fitzgerald Porter remain on a lot of drinker’s short lists.  I admire the fact that they tend to keep their repertoire pretty tight, without overwhelming the market with new brew upon new brew.  What they do let out of the gates is great – check out their latest, Rye of the Tiger & Alchemy Hour for evidence of this.  Their seasonals are consistently favorites, among them Nosferatu, Oktoberfest, Christmas Ale, & Blackout Stout.  And their Barrel-Aged Blackout Stout is a consistent draw for the most diehard & beer-geeky among us, who flock to the brewery each year when it drops. 

On top of creating a great product, Great Lakes is committed to sustainability in what they refer to as their Triple Bottom Line, espousing sustainable economic, social, & environmental practices.  They engage in bioregionalism as much as possible, their building site is a historical preservation, & they make a point of being a good community citizen.  For more on this philosophy, visit www.greatlakesbrewing.com or check out Christopher Mark O’Brien’s book Fermenting Revolution, which talks extensively about the good Great Lakes is doing.

If this sounds like a love letter to Great Lakes, sue us!  We’re happy to be celebrating their Silver Anniversary at The House from May 29^th to June 1^st.  Join us as we welcome the regional Great Lakes rep, Connie, who’ll be meeting, greeting, & pouring on Wednesday, the 29^th, when we’ll be tapping the brewpub-only Ohio City Oatmeal Stout & giving away Great Lakes glasses; Thursday, we’ll be tapping another limited release: Rally Drum Red; Friday, we summon the Lake Erie Monster Double IPA; & on Saturday, in addition to Commodore Perry IPA & Dortmunder Gold, we’ll dig into their collaboration with Deschutes, an Imperial Smoked Porter in celebration of the Class of ’88.  And what would a party be without giveaways each day?  So come join The House in honoring Great Lakes Brewing Company, one of craft beer’s best.

Butting Heads Over Budding Hops

There’s been a lot of hubbub around an opinion article that appeared last Thursday on slate.com.  The author was making the case that hoppy beers are the biggest obstacle to craft beer’s mainstream acceptance, as many beer-drinkers equate craft beer with tasting like pine needles/grapefruit pith/cat urine – not necessarily a great taste for many.  On-line forums lit up & our own Facebook wall was active with folks weighing in on their love of or hate for hops, & whether they thought American craft brewers are overdoing it when it comes to adding those flavorful little green cones to their beers.  Some of craft beer’s most outspoken personalities have critiqued hyper-hopped brews: Garrett Oliver’s made the analogy that “No chef brags about having the saltiest soup” & Jim Koch’s asserted that “There’s not a huge set of skills to make an 80-IBU beer”.  Fightin’ words indeed, especially considering that they come from the mouths of quintessentially East Coast brewers.

On our own little Facebook “forum”, it was great seeing people get passionate & voice their opinions about a polarizing topic.  Opinions trended toward either “What is it with American brewers & their stupid hops?” or “If you don’t like hops, there’s plenty of others to pick from”.  We’ll spend a second & just validate the latter point – it’s a big, happy umbrella with craft beer, & if choice A doesn’t suit you, try choice B, C, or R.  We serve many well-seasoned craft drinkers, many among them who are just not into IPAs, or sours, or Belgians, or lagers, or whatever. 

But reading this article brought two personal anecdotes to mind around the issue of appealing to consumers.    In the first, I was drinking with a few friends who like good beer & the conversation gravitated to that topic.  We shared our appraisals & praise of the Belgian-inspired strong ales we were drinking, when a buddy remarked, “Man, I can’t wait ‘til breweries get over this overly hoppy trend.”  I might be paraphrasing, but you get the gist.  I get it – I disagree, but I get it.  It’s no secret that prominent hop profiles are probably the biggest “love-it-or-hate-it” dimension of the new brewing paradigm, & are a hurdle a lot of folks can’t (& don’t necessarily want to) clear.  My response, however, was that hopped-up beers are not going anywhere any time soon – roughly 99.9% of American breweries make at least an IPA. 

And I got a little defensive from a patriotic/historical standpoint.  Hops – American hops – are what have distinguished American craft beer from practically the get-go.  Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale (& its predecessor, New Albion Ale), considered tame by today’s standards, was revolutionary in its inception for its bold use of Cascade hops & paved the way for pretty much every hoppy American ale that came after it.  American brewers had less going for them in the way of domestic malt, but found a cornucopia of flavors in American hops & came to sire a whole family of beer that was uniquely American.  This has been the main aspect of American beer that’s caused European brewers to break with tradition & actually try to emulate (as opposed to just mock, as was previously the case).  The word “American” in any style title – IPA, stout, porter, barleywine, brown -  basically denotes a greater hop presence than its European counterparts.  American, American, American.  So part of me says that you don’t have to like hoppy beers, but at least respect them & their role in this country’s beer renaissance.

However, another part of me remembers a little happening with one of my best friends a few years ago.  It was the rehearsal dinner for my wedding, & I’d picked a place that knew & served quality beer.  When the server asked for drink orders, my buddy ordered a Yuengling.  “I’m sorry, we don’t have that here” was the server’s reply, “but I think you’ll like our pale ale.”  I tried to call the server back & tell him to get their light lager, but was too late – he was on a mission to “upsell” & “convert” my neophyte friend to the good stuff.  When he returned with the hoppy pale, my friend took a tiny sip, set the beer down, & stuck to water for the rest of the evening.  With the best of intentions, that server tried to show my friend the light & failed.  Just an endorsement for mutual respect.  We promote the respect for beer in its myriad flavors, styles, personalities, & support challenging ourselves.  But we also realize that failing to respect someone else’s taste & evangelize where it isn’t wanted doesn’t help anybody.

Give the Shaker a Break

It’s solid.  It’s utilitarian.  It’s iconic.  It’s fair to say that the shaker pint – commonly just the “pint glass”, the tapered, angular glass that resemble an upside-down thimble – is the most-used beer-serving vessel in the U.S.  But more & more aficionados – from stalwart brewmasters Vinnie Cilurzo & Garrett Oliver (Russian River & Brooklyn, respectively), to UC Davis brewing professor Dr. Michael Lewis, to renowned beer writer Andy Crouch – are calling for the disposing of this glass from its place as industry standard.  A common talking point among the brew literati is “the proper glassware”, making the demand that, if beer is going to secure a place of esteem equal to wine, it needs to be served in glassware to optimize its head retention, its aroma, its clarity, its serving temperature.  We also think that beer deserves to be put on a pedestal, & you’ll find an array of glassware at The House: tulips, for those heady Belgian ales; snifters, for those potent barleywines & strong ales; flutes, for those fruity sweetened lambics; vases, pilsners, nonick pints, goblets.  And we happen to hold the shaker pint in the same regard.

One argument in defense of the shaker is from the “anti-snob” position, basically “It’s beer.  Don’t be so patrician, just get over yourself & enjoy it.”  There’s some validity to that.  A good article from Charlotte Beer makes the point eloquently, saying that, yes, beer deserves to be experienced at its utmost, but there’s a time & a place, & if you’re too bent out of shape about the kind of glass that you fail to appreciate the beer, whose fault is that, really?  If your head is so far jammed in the glass that you don’t notice your company & surroundings, you’re missing out on at least 50% of the experience anyway.  And sure, a pint glass is certainly preferable to a plastic cup (I’ve drank at places that claim to be self-respecting where this was the delivery method of choice – ooooh boy). 

But I’d even go so far as to claim that the shaker pint is actually the best vessel for certain styles.  Doesn’t a good stout just look more appealing served in a tall, assertive glass?  Don’t the round body & straight sides feel good in your hand?  There’s something about picking up & putting down that sturdy pint of beer that just feels like it fits, that defines it as a hearty, robust beverage & separates it from the dainty “refinement” of wine.  The owner & brewmaster of Beachwood BBQ state that the shaker pint is their preferred glassware for IPAs & Double IPAs, & I agree.  Something about aggressively hoppy beers really shines from a shaker, the head holds up very well to deliver that aroma, & the thick, sticky lacing working its way down the sides is the icing on the cake.  It’s a beer that says “Here I am,” & the glass props that up.  It works great for many styles: browns, pales, ambers, stouts, bocks, most lagers, IPAs – a lot of the “work horse” styles.  This is not to knock any other sort of glassware; they’re all great & deserve to be recognized.  But the shaker pint fits easily alongside the curvy, aerodynamic styles.  Maybe we do need to just get over ourselves & enjoy the beer.  But maybe the shaker pint is just right for the time, the place, & even the brew itself.

Top Shelf Thursday: April 2014

We’re in the thick of Pittsburgh Craft Beer Week, riding the amazing wave of barley & hop goodness!  The Voodoo tap takeover on Saturday was a blast (LOVED the 2 Live Grand Cru, Vol. 1); had a great time with Mike Finch in The House sampling some of Finch’s fine wares; & last night was our monthly Top Shelf Thursday tasting.  This month’s line-up featured some theme & variation, with beers before & after barrel-aging, or the same beer aged in different barrels, displaying some of the subtleties between the different vessels.

We started off with a back-to-back tasting of Old Dubh from Harviestoun Brewery in Scotland.  Ola Dubh is their Old Engine Oil, a black Scottish strong ale, amped up to 8% ABV & aged in different vintage barrels from Scotch distillery Highland Park.  The Special Reserve 16, aged in 16-year-old Highland Park barrels, had some smoky notes, chocolate tones, & finished on the dry side with a little char.  The Special Reserve 30, aged in – you guessed it – 30-year-old barrels, was smoother, with a little more potent smoke, wood, chocolate, & coffee character.

What followed was a beer familiar to just about everyone in attendance: Golden Monkey from Victory, a Belgian-style golden ale brewed with coriander, giving a spicy (soapy?) twist to the fruity & herbal notes.  It made for good comparison to White Monkey – Golden Monkey aged in American oak barrels that once harbored white wine.  Many enjoyed the vinous, oaky, even buttery flavors that complemented the base beer so well.

From here on out we were in stout territory, beginning with a triad of Eclipse imperial stouts from California’s FiftyFifty Brewing.  FiftyFifty brews a base imperial stout & ages it in different whiskey barrels, imparting subtly distinct notes to each line.  The Eclipse aged in Mellow Corn Whiskey barrels was baffling to some, who felt it gave the stout a taste like moonshine.  Old Fitzgerald bourbon barrels trod familiar ground, contributing vanilla & caramel flavors & demonstrating why bourbon barrel-aged stouts are a homerun.  The Eclipse in Rittenhouse Rye barrels carried a spicy edginess that was a little rugged but very tasty & interesting.

Rounding off this night of themes & variations was a trio from Hoppin’ Frog, beginning with B.O.R.I.S. the Crusher, an oatmeal Russian imperial stout (the ‘B’ stands for ‘bodacioius’).  Familiar to many, the chocolate, coffee, & booze notes were rounded out by a smooth oatmeal texture.  Take the B.O.R.I.S., age it in whiskey barrels, & you’ve got – ta-da! – Barrel-Aged B.O.R.I.S., a little sweeter with a mellow though very distinct whiskey flavor around the edges.  And crowning the evening was B.O.R.I.S.’s roided-out big brother, D.O.R.I.S. the Destroyer, weighing in at a substantial 10.5% ABV (1.1% higher than the B.O.R.I.S.), with additional kettle hops & dry-hopping, making for a big stout bursting with citrus. 

Another fun evening, exploring the ins & outs of experimentation, embracing the novel while still savoring the familiar, reminding us that beer is a great platform for pushing boundaries.  Hope everyone’s having a great Pittsburgh Craft Beer Week – Top Shelf Thursday will be returning next month, this time with a little encore.