Every year, I get into the same discussions when it comes to what to brew when, what to drink when. Some people will drink the same style year round, not worrying whether it is June or January, you can find an IPA in their pint glass. I like to think of myself as a brewer in the traditional sense, that my palate and my mash tun follows the ebbs and flows of the seasons. When the mercury rises, I tend to seek out crisp refreshing Kolschs or spicy saisons. When the days shorten and get so cold you feel old, I gravitate towards big beefy Baltic porters and warming tripels. Since I have a very basic brewing set up, I also rely on the cold whether for lagering to take place as opposed to artificially putting carboys in a refrigerator. This works out beautifully during the dark days of late December through early February.
Brewers of old tended to follow a similar schedule to what I do. They couldn't brew with ingredients that were unavailable, because they grew them instead of purchasing them at the local HBS. If wheat was a bumper crop, then the brewing schedule followed suit. Also, referring to a previous post, the alcohol content was much, much lower throughout most of the year. When a saison is made, the idea behind it is to refresh those who are working all day and add calories back into their diet, not to get the drinker so hammered they can't speak. There is a local brew joint that consistently has nothing but high octane IPAs and APAs on tap. That's fine in the depths of winter, but in July I would like to be able to fill a growler with something other than rocket fuel.
One of the benefits of living in the northeast US is that we have four very distinct seasons, making it easy to brew and drink accordingly, the brewer's artistic license notwithstanding. If a beer lover would take a few days each season and sit back and drink along with the season, it would give a better appreciation for not only each season, but would open your eyes and mouths to different and exciting other styles.
There are obviously crossover styles of beers, that you can drink regardless of the time of year or temperature. If you have never had a Flemish sour ale in winter and then again in summer, you are missing out on one of the greatest gifts to the brewing world. The simplicity of the souring bacteria and how it dances around your palate regardless of the season is incredible. It warms in winter and is unbelievably refreshing in the heat of summer. Lagers of varying styles can do exactly the same thing, and should never not be available in your repertoire. Brown ales start to blend together styles and seasons and fit wonderfully in the fall to join the times of year and the colors from light beers of summer to the darker ones of winter. Snowflakes hasten the arrival of big, bold Belgians of every conceivable color and make. Spring blossoms signal Scottish ales and the beginning of the true IPA and APA season, right before the season of saison, while the long, hot days of summer pair perfectly with a sour or crisp, dry lager.
One final note to drinking with the season, there is no reason of any kind to follow any schedule, it is just something that I personally enjoy. If you ever want to know what to drink and when, consider the food that makes up your meals, and what would pair with them. Is it a hearty, heavy beef stew, or a light, delicate summer salad? Remember, what is in season can be a great guide to what to brew or consume, but above all else, enjoy whatever you want, whenever you want.
Na zdrowie.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Death of the Macro?
Earlier this week, Molson Coors (TAP) announced the intention to acquire Czech-Republic based StarBev. The price tag? $3.5 billion. That's a lot of suds in my opinion. The article posted on The Street openly suggests that it's not that great of a plan and while the European markets typically consume more beer per person, the emerging market of the Eastern European countries does little more than expand the footprint and the global scale of the company. With a soft U.S. economy, and the market, well, saturated with macro breweries, it seems as though this move was the only real logical one for them. But on a larger scale, does it mean that the giant watery titans are slipping into a spin that will ultimately end their existence? Doubtful, but the theory has abounded for years. With craft and homebrewing taking off exponentially, the macros of the world must adapt or face an untimely demise.
Consider the U.S. beer world. Twenty years ago there were only a few minor players in the craft beer industry. With the explosion of good taste and unique products, that burgeoning market grew into a titan of its own. Now makers like Dogfish Head, Avery, Sierra Nevada, Sam Adams, etc. put more beer into Americans stomachs than ever before. In 2010, the craft beer industry grew by 11% at a time when the rest of the world's industries were shrinking. Even small crafters like Goose Island were recognized to the point where the brewery continues to operate but under the ownership of InBev. We may have seen a turning of the tide as these huge conglomerates seek to grab up as many of the small breweries as they can, allow them to still produce under their recognizable labels, yet retain their profit margins.
We may live to see the day where macros literally cannot operate any longer as they once did, and are forced to diversify to the point where they enter other markets and simply become holding firms for dozens of small, craft beer breweries. With the near global meltdown of 2009 and the continuing crises in Europe, the days of the giant watery pseudo-beer producers may very well be numbered.
Consider the U.S. beer world. Twenty years ago there were only a few minor players in the craft beer industry. With the explosion of good taste and unique products, that burgeoning market grew into a titan of its own. Now makers like Dogfish Head, Avery, Sierra Nevada, Sam Adams, etc. put more beer into Americans stomachs than ever before. In 2010, the craft beer industry grew by 11% at a time when the rest of the world's industries were shrinking. Even small crafters like Goose Island were recognized to the point where the brewery continues to operate but under the ownership of InBev. We may have seen a turning of the tide as these huge conglomerates seek to grab up as many of the small breweries as they can, allow them to still produce under their recognizable labels, yet retain their profit margins.
We may live to see the day where macros literally cannot operate any longer as they once did, and are forced to diversify to the point where they enter other markets and simply become holding firms for dozens of small, craft beer breweries. With the near global meltdown of 2009 and the continuing crises in Europe, the days of the giant watery pseudo-beer producers may very well be numbered.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Dieting with Beer?
With growing frequency, this time of year all kinds of articles and pieces are coming out regarding the beer diet, or people modifying their Lenten dietary needs to replicate those of 15th and 16th century monks. At first blush, it seems like a really awesome endeavor. I mean drinking nothing but beer and water for 40 days? YES!! I decided that I could weigh in on the topic, hopefully providing a bit of sobering reality.
If you Google "Beer diet for Lent", you will find literally thousands of articles, videos, how-tos on achieving this lofty supposedly pious goal. I think it bears stating that the world in 2012 could not, and should not even attempt to replicate this. Why you ask? For starters, the beer itself is vastly different. Even consuming the trappist dubbels and tripels still made at the abbeys and monastaries, you are getting something really different than the same yeast, malt, hops, and water than was available 500 years ago. In several of the videos, the dieters were drinking Miller Lite or Coors, and think that all beer is created equal. Few things are further from the truth.
Even with the differences in the product, we do not consume the same amount of beer that people did during the Middle Ages, even during college and outside of Lent. In fact, studies have shown, that the average person drank 60 times more than citizens do today. The primary reason for this was a lack of quality, safe drinking water. They also did not have super yeast strains that fermented the malt out to 18% ABV. The typical table ales and beers were generally 3-4%ABV, and designed to have enough alcohol to kill bacteria, but not brain cells. Like anything else, you can build up a tolerance to things, and beer was no different. So, when the monks that were actually doing the brewing went to fast, they were not cutting out food that they had become accustomed to AND introducing an inebriating amount of booze. It was a much gentler shift in their dietary habits. The yeast produced today is some of the most highly flocctuating stuff on the planet, and the end product can sometimes melt your face.
All this aside, probably the single most important reason most health professionals discourage this diet, is because the average American's diet is terrible to begin with, and the overwhelming majority of people maintain a sedentary lifestyle. Working in front of a computer is nowhere close to rising with the sun and working in the field all day. Just one weekend of working in a garden is enough to put most into serious pain. Combining a poor diet, lack of exercise, and adding only beer to fuel the body, it is difficult to think of a worse idea than that.
I personally do not believe that God intended us to give things up for only 40 days a year to get closer to Him, but rather we remember always the goodness and mercy bestowed upon us. It is foolish to think that 40 days of inebriation could draw anyone closer to anything other than the porcelin throne.
If you Google "Beer diet for Lent", you will find literally thousands of articles, videos, how-tos on achieving this lofty supposedly pious goal. I think it bears stating that the world in 2012 could not, and should not even attempt to replicate this. Why you ask? For starters, the beer itself is vastly different. Even consuming the trappist dubbels and tripels still made at the abbeys and monastaries, you are getting something really different than the same yeast, malt, hops, and water than was available 500 years ago. In several of the videos, the dieters were drinking Miller Lite or Coors, and think that all beer is created equal. Few things are further from the truth.
Even with the differences in the product, we do not consume the same amount of beer that people did during the Middle Ages, even during college and outside of Lent. In fact, studies have shown, that the average person drank 60 times more than citizens do today. The primary reason for this was a lack of quality, safe drinking water. They also did not have super yeast strains that fermented the malt out to 18% ABV. The typical table ales and beers were generally 3-4%ABV, and designed to have enough alcohol to kill bacteria, but not brain cells. Like anything else, you can build up a tolerance to things, and beer was no different. So, when the monks that were actually doing the brewing went to fast, they were not cutting out food that they had become accustomed to AND introducing an inebriating amount of booze. It was a much gentler shift in their dietary habits. The yeast produced today is some of the most highly flocctuating stuff on the planet, and the end product can sometimes melt your face.
All this aside, probably the single most important reason most health professionals discourage this diet, is because the average American's diet is terrible to begin with, and the overwhelming majority of people maintain a sedentary lifestyle. Working in front of a computer is nowhere close to rising with the sun and working in the field all day. Just one weekend of working in a garden is enough to put most into serious pain. Combining a poor diet, lack of exercise, and adding only beer to fuel the body, it is difficult to think of a worse idea than that.
I personally do not believe that God intended us to give things up for only 40 days a year to get closer to Him, but rather we remember always the goodness and mercy bestowed upon us. It is foolish to think that 40 days of inebriation could draw anyone closer to anything other than the porcelin throne.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Dogfish Head Noble Rot
As an avid wine drinker, and someone who can appreciate the distinct nuances of wine making, I was very excited to hear about this new brew from Sam Calagione and the brewhouse down in Delaware. As with most of their strange concoctions, you never really know what it will taste like until it hits your palate. Their creations are so unique, that there really is no baseline.
This particular choice was no exception. The label states, "Ale brewed with grape must and grape must added." Now, to the average beer drinker, that may not mean a whole lot, unless you know a little about what the name means. Noble rot refers to a fungus which infects grapes. Before you spit out your ale, the fungus is botrytis cinerea. This is the same little guy that is intentionally spread through vineyards in France to create the legendary sauternes wine. The fungus essentially concentrates the sugars and flavors in the grape while it still on the vine, meaning that at pressing, the residual sugars are higher than typical white wine grapes.
So, we poured. A bright white head, and crystal clear yellow appearance in the glass. The initial nose is musty, kind of like a wine bottle cork that has just been pulled. The flavor is slightly sweet, with a dry, almost champagne like crisp finish. It is boozy, and at 9%ABV, one big bottle is enough for several people, and the aroma of alcohol definitely lingers around the glass and follows the warming.
All in all, a nice and unique beer. I would follow the suggestion of sharing with some sort of seafood appetizer, and probably a flute would be better than a pint glass. However, after one glass, I was kind of done with it. I love the passionate creations from DFH, but sometimes it just doesn't fit my tastes. I do recommend trying this one, I think it is a nice marriage of ale and wine that could potentially grow on me.
This particular choice was no exception. The label states, "Ale brewed with grape must and grape must added." Now, to the average beer drinker, that may not mean a whole lot, unless you know a little about what the name means. Noble rot refers to a fungus which infects grapes. Before you spit out your ale, the fungus is botrytis cinerea. This is the same little guy that is intentionally spread through vineyards in France to create the legendary sauternes wine. The fungus essentially concentrates the sugars and flavors in the grape while it still on the vine, meaning that at pressing, the residual sugars are higher than typical white wine grapes.
So, we poured. A bright white head, and crystal clear yellow appearance in the glass. The initial nose is musty, kind of like a wine bottle cork that has just been pulled. The flavor is slightly sweet, with a dry, almost champagne like crisp finish. It is boozy, and at 9%ABV, one big bottle is enough for several people, and the aroma of alcohol definitely lingers around the glass and follows the warming.
All in all, a nice and unique beer. I would follow the suggestion of sharing with some sort of seafood appetizer, and probably a flute would be better than a pint glass. However, after one glass, I was kind of done with it. I love the passionate creations from DFH, but sometimes it just doesn't fit my tastes. I do recommend trying this one, I think it is a nice marriage of ale and wine that could potentially grow on me.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Henrietta
Two weeks ago, I brewed a batch of my version of Goose Island's Juliet. Since their unique beer is so hard to find, I wanted to do something that could mimic the Juliet, but yet be our own distinct recipe.
Here is the basic design: We started with a basic 2-row malt, adding in some Munich and rye, with flaked rye added as well, hopped with Pilgrim. It's a Belgian sour, so here is where it gets interesting. I added a proprietary blend of Belgian yeasts I have pieced together from my library. After spending two weeks in the primary, today it will be racked to the secondary over a bed of blackberries and oak soaked in Cabernet Sauvignon. Finally, a cake of lambic and Belgian yeast blend will be pitched to referment the sugars from the fruit and give it a distinct sourness. We'll leave it sit on the secondary for a few months, bottling and sampling the first on the first hot day of summer for a refreshing treat.
Stay tuned for a review on the taste in summer, unless I can't contain myself any longer, which is totally possible.
Here is the basic design: We started with a basic 2-row malt, adding in some Munich and rye, with flaked rye added as well, hopped with Pilgrim. It's a Belgian sour, so here is where it gets interesting. I added a proprietary blend of Belgian yeasts I have pieced together from my library. After spending two weeks in the primary, today it will be racked to the secondary over a bed of blackberries and oak soaked in Cabernet Sauvignon. Finally, a cake of lambic and Belgian yeast blend will be pitched to referment the sugars from the fruit and give it a distinct sourness. We'll leave it sit on the secondary for a few months, bottling and sampling the first on the first hot day of summer for a refreshing treat.
Stay tuned for a review on the taste in summer, unless I can't contain myself any longer, which is totally possible.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Palm
Today I had my first taste of Palm, a Belgian Amber ale. It pours a golden copper color with a small foamy, white head. Right away the scent of Belgian yeast comes through the delicate lacing around the glass. The nose is Belgian, fruity, lightly hopped and crisp. The taste is very smooth, almost lager like in it's rounded, dry finish. Absolutely delightful and a home run in the world of Belgians. I can't believe it took me this long. I grabbed a six pack, so I plan on enjoying them for those moments that call for a really nice, smooth ale that scratches my itch for classic Belgians.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
2 Hours
Well, I did it. Last night, with a few close friends, I opened one bottle of Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA. I followed Sam's instructions, and served it after letting it out of the fridge for about 30 minutes. It poured beautifully into a brandy snifter a wonderful gold with a very quickly dissipating head. I braced myself as the nose screamed of hops, but was taken aback by the massive amounts of malts. The grain bill cut through the bitterness and made rather sweet taste, followed by a very present alcohol warming. Since this one was bottled in 2011, I will keep the second one until at least late 2012 or longer if I can stand it. Be forewarned though, make sure you eat well when consuming this IPA, it will knock your socks off in a hurry. However, I must say that at $10 a bottle, it is definitely a must try and the recapped empty bottle now adorns the bookcase in the office. A one of a kind brew that is super malty, ridiculously hopped, and drinks like a liquor.
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