Category: California

What Caused Steam Beer To Be Low End Then Not?

A couple of reference to steam beer flitting around today. Anchor has a new web ad for a line of new beers leaning on its research of early California brewing. And it came up in the comments from Saturday’s post about… what was Saturday’s post about? I like the references cited at wikipedia from late 1800s writing, especially those in the book McTeague, showing how steam beer was low end stuff, drunk by the pitcher left behind for bottled beer as you moved up in life. Conceptually, it is funny stuff. It goes from being that drunkard’s brew to worth fighting a court case over to the stuff (or the cousin of the stuff in Anchor’s case) of dreamy web vid ads.

Is it because steam beer is really an idea and not really a beer at all? And an idea that has shifted to serve each era’s needs? At some point, labels can pretty much abstract themselves completely away from the substance upon which they are placed. Which make them both flexible and unreliable, prone to being pushed in one direction or another. I thought of that unreliability when I read about this announcement for a contest to brew the best 1812 era Toronto beer. The rules of the contest appear to bears little resemblance to any reading I have done about beer in this part of the world. Toronto – then called York – had a normal British empire style commercial brewing economy at that time. Water, yeast, malt and hops. That’s what brewers in old York likely mostly used 200 years ago. The British defended the right of even prisoners to not suffer unadulterated foods in these parts in the early 1800s.

What made steam beer rough then not? What now litters Toronto’s actual skillful brewing history with “herbs and root vegetables”?

California: Union Jack IPA, Firestone Walker Brewing

A short flip across the border nabbed me a six of this new New York offered Firestone Walker. There were three others, their DIPA, porter and 15 were there, too at $8.99, $6.99 and a whopping $21.99 respectively. The last one was in a cardboard box. I had no idea a cardboard box added so much cost. I grabbed a couple of the Double Jack DIPAs leaving the stuck up sibling and the under appreciated plain Jane behind.

This six cost me $13.99 which is at or a notch above the cost of a middling Ontario craft beer at the LCBO so this was not a money saver like the excellent Sixpoints but still more than worth a try. Even with the buck a bottle customs duty I got hit with today, it beats the hell out of lining up and forking out to access FW beers otherwise under our system. On the sniff, it is toffee, marmalade and bitter greens. It pours aged, oranged pine with a lace leaving egg white head that’s sustained by a pretty active level of carbonation. Not a heavy beer on a sip and swish but one that goes neatly through a number of phases. Orange rind and pine at the outset standing on the backs of rich toffee malt. Then there is a pause with a moment’s reflection on the watery goodness. This gives way to a bit of an arugula booze burn at the end. I like a beer with a beginning, middle and end. I like.

Even with the new incomprehensible number system, I can tell the BAer have the love in a big way.

Session #39: Collaboration? Call O’ Bore-a-tion?

That’s not very clever. Or polite. But one must pun as one can. And one has to be always on watch for indulgence – especially when it comes to marketing… or is it marketability. That is what Stan mentioned: “Collaborations are good business, good marketing, good fun and often result in interesting beer.” Or a bit of what he said… or implied. Sorta. But can they also result in bad business, poor marketing, tedium and dull beer? Of course they might. If not, what point would there be to this month’s edition of The Session?

This brew is a good illustration of the quandary, Brewmaster’s (sic) Collaboration Signature Ale #1 which resulted from a brewing get together 3 years ago and two months ago between Tomme Arthur of Port Brewing and Dirk Naudis of De Proef. It pours a deep rich varnished pine under thick rocky clinging off white head. The aroma includes pine sap and nutmeg, bubblegum and marigold. The mouthfeel is very soft and compelling but turns on you with the twin bite of hops and alcohol. There is pear and honey in the malt. All very attractive yet it’s a bit of a muddle. It’s overly hot from just 8.5% alcohol, the hops also burn and the malt’s a wee bit flabby. There is a bit of brett or some other sour tang a bit down there as well as a little of spice. But the furniture polish hops overwhelm it all. As they usually do. Like using the fuzz or the waa-waa pedal or a car with an intentionally bad muffler. The label claims that “these notes could be out of balance were it not for the generous maltiness that holds the beer in check.” I am not sure I agree.

Could be that time or the shelves of the middleman have taken a toll? I think not. This beer is like a decent Belgian golden strong ale got mixed up with a good California double IPA which stumbled into little dubbel. Plenty of BAer love but hasn’t this been done? A hundred times? Could be by now – but had it “been done” back in March of 2007? Three years and two months is a lifetime in craft beer marketability trends. It took until 2009 before folks got a bit jaded on the idea. Maybe this was one of the first inquiries into the collaboration idea that branched into or at least was working with into that early late mid-decade Belgian double IPA idea. When collaboration was new and interesting.

Collaboration might be a great idea but it also might be an idea with less universal applicability or longevity than one might have hoped a few years ago. Let’s be honest. All craft beer is collaboration. Brewers work with other brewers, were trained by brewers and were inspired by brewers. Does it really matter that one craft brewer held the basket of hops as they were shaken into the other’s brewing kettle? After taking a jet?

CAMNA: The Campaign For Nipped Ales

ofa1So far I have created, with a certain underwhelming success, The Pub Game Project to note the things people like to do when they get together for beer, The Society for Ales of Antiquity to celebrate those brewers who are brewing beers like those brewers who used to brew the beers as well as CAMWA or The Campaign For Watery Ale, to encourage movers and shakers to consider the thing that makes 87% to 96% of what is in the bottle.

The response has been, well, insignificant if I want to brag it up out of all proportions. But we cannot stop there. Now we need CAMNA, the Campaign for Nipped Ales, to demand that the higher the strength the smaller the beer. Look at that bottle of Anchor Old Foghorn. Look at the dime. That is a small bottle. Seven small ounces. A nip. And it is only an 8.8% brew. I am getting really tired of opening 22 ounce or even 750 ml bottles of 8% to 13% beer. It is too much. It costs too much, it is too much booze and it is an invitation to excess. You will say they are to be shared or saved for special occasions but I want the option to sip a little one alone on a Tuesday. Why can’t I except with a handful of beers from a few forward thinking brewers? How much would it really cost most moderately sized micros to put out a line of nips of their stronger offerings? Would it not make them more accessible, allow more people to have a try?

These are the questions asked by CAMNA – the only international organization of its stature which dares take on this cause and those lined up against it. Some may think the utter irrelevance of CAMNA to the discourse is a challenge but I say it is an opportunity – an opportunity to be the mouse that roared… in the forest where trees fall when no one in around… in a land far far away.

Lee’s Mild, 8th Anniversary Ale, Stone, California

What can you say about a beer that says so much about itself. I picked this one out of the stash, $5.99 USD last time I was south. It is a one off brew made in August 2004 from Stone of a previous standard of theirs called Lee’s Mild…which makes it more of a revival than a one off. At 7.8% I am wondering where I will find the mild in it but these things do happen sometimes.

Mild is generally the lightest of the dark ales – below porter, sub-dark and under brown. Big in, say, Wales circa 1910, milds are now rare. They also were a bit of an innovation when they came out as they were a break from stales or beers that had attractive sour tang to them. The idea of an actually sterile and fresh to the consumer beer was very 19th century
industrial revolution. I think the only true one I have had – other than those I brewed myself – was at C’est What in Toronto last winter. The perfect session ale. But that one was only 3.3%…or 42% the strength of this one of Lee’s. So what will this bottle provide when opened. The BAers give great hope. More in a moment when I get the danged thing open.

It pours a really attractive reddish mahogany with a rich and lace leaving tan head. Good and black rummy – sweetness worked through and dried. Masses of malt with notes of fig, date and pumpernickle with a good swath of green and twiggy hops cutting but not severing betwixt and between. It is just a notch below an old ale or something that might come out for Christmas but not by much. A long long finish. Another impressive big ale from one of the great US brewers.

Three More US Pale Ales

A Sunday afternoon on a balcony overlooking the St.Lawrence and Lake Ontario and these three fine examples of American brewing. On the radio, the Yankees and Red Sox in the rubber game of the weekend’s series. Perfection.

Dogfish Head Shelter Pale Ale: From Delaware. I picked up a few of this ale last weekend in Syracuse and am glad I did. It poured white foam over fairly still orangey amber ale with a relatively soft mouthfeel. The hops are not overwhelming with their green profile. The beer is minerally even salty. There is lots of toasty bread crust graininess to the malt. Also, a sort of shadow of unsweetened chocolate lingers – maybe not from the use of chocolate malt so much as the combination of pale malt fruit, bitter hops and a modest but rish yeast strain. The finish is dry with a little white pepper heat. A very well balanced pale ale that satisfied even though it is not juicey moreish.

Stoudt’s American Pale Ale: From Pennsylvania. A rocky half-inch of white head resovles to foam and rim leaving lace. The ale is deep golden straw. Its aroma is floral as is the first sip. It is a far hoppier take on the pale ale compared to the Shelter Pale Ale. Again, it is minerally with green weediness to the floral hops. The strength of the hops overwhelms the pale malt, exposed and lightly braced as it is by a small addition of crystal malt. There is some toffee but less than you would expect from an English pale ale or a US IPA. The finish has some pear juiciness and accordingly a bit of moreishness. If this were any other brewer this might be their IPA but given Stoudt’s dedication to the big as well as their Double IPA this is a relative pip squeek.

Stone IPA: From California. Again a similar white rim over orangey amber ale, though lighter on the red notes, halfway to deep golden straw. Similar to the Stoudts but softer with less weedy green in the hops, more grapefruit rind and green herb. They are chewy without being bombastic – as Stone
can well be. A bit hot in the mddle, it has less of the salty mineral feel of the Stoudts. The yeast is creamy but quite subdued, just a rich note behind it all. Really nice if you like a hoppy ale and perfect with ballpark peanuts in the shell for the game – even if the Yanks beat the Sox 1-0.

 

 

Six US Darks

Washington, Vermont, New York, Oregon,
Pennsylvania and California

Life is tough. Life needs little projects. I found all of these lovery little brown bottles at the excellent Finger Lakes Beverage Center in Ithaca, NY and was able to buy singles of each – though the Southern Tier Porter came in a mixed 12 pack I picked up. They represent parts of the range of dark ales above brown ale. There are two dark porters, a mocha porter, an organic oatmeal stout, an imperial oatmeal stout and the granddaddy of them all a Russian Imperial stout. Mmmmm…roasty malty goodness.

  • Wolaver’s Oatmeal Stout: certified organic from Middlebury, Vermont. Effervescent, dark brown ale under a smooth rich tan head. Lots of flavour and lots of flavours. Not a slave to the silky texture oats impart, this beer also has plenty of hops, roasty grain and yeasty goodness – all in one smooth balanced beer. The hops are not as minty as Guinness’s norther brewer variety. I am thinking the citrus rind of Cascade. In the grain there is a bit of cocoa, a bit of coffee and a nice brown breadiness from the interaction with the creamy biscuity yeast. The finish goes dry, leaving the roast and then just the hops. A very fine complex medium weight example.
  • Stoudt’s Fat Dog Imperial Stout: from Adamstown, Pennsylvania. After my first contact with Stoudt through their Double IPA, I am going to need more than a moment with this brew. Darker brown with red notes under a mocha head that dissipated quickly. The sensation of this 9% ale’s strength is a little like a black rum and coke – which is to be expected as 9% amounts to around one oz. shot of 80 proof being added to a regular beer or two shots to a pop/soda. But that is a side track, a red herring. When beers are like this you have to think of them more like great port or sherry as opposed to table wine. Expect the flavours to open up over time. The body is fairly hefty, though it is not overdone – there is no massive attack of roasted grains though they are there as a supporting cast. There is some chocolate but mainly a lot of rich dark malt, pumpernickle. The hops are also there but far further in the background than the Wolaver’s. Underneath it all there is a rich double cream yeast that fills in gaps in concert with the smoothness of the oats. Quite extraordinary. And that was all from the first two sips. An hour later, two more flavours came out – licorice and some fruit which, surprisingly, I would not call dried fruit so much as plum and maybe apricot. Again complex and very worthy.
  • Southern Tier Dark Porter: from Lakewood, New York. I like this porter a lot. A good honest roasty dark ale with body to match. Too often porters or the slightly lighter style called dark ale are just darkened versions of the brewer’s pale ale. But this beer has a good amount of roasted grain, some coffee and a bit of bitter chocolate all over a nice rich biscuity yeast. Not as complex as the beers above but more of an everyday porter.
  • Grant’s Perfect Porter: from Yakima, Washington. I am quite surprised how much lighter this porter is compared to the southern tier. Its light tan head dissipates to a skim quickly over the mahogony ale. Chocolate mousse smelly. I would really call this a dark and not a porter but I should not as this is a Bert Grant’s beer. Up front there is some roast but it fades away a little sooner than I would like revealing a bit of vanilla cream and then a bit of edgy vegetative hop and smoke. I recall the Burton Bridge porter I had in 2001 or so and its lack of balance to my mind – too thin, too sharp – which later learned that it was more historically accurate. This is like the same elements placed in more modern balance – a bit of sour in the yeast, a bit of sharp in the end but better balanced than the Burton. I don’t know if I can call this tasty or attractive. At 4% a lower strength expression of the style.
  • Rogue Mocha Porter: from Eugene, Oregon. A skim of tan head over deep brown ale. Big hop tang across the roof of my mouth – minty, lime rind – over the top of dusty chocolate and black malt. Not so much mocha beer as mug of joe beer. Somewhat discordant, a bit sharp here and a bit dry roasty there. I don’t know if the yeast is really pulling its weight but, still all in all it’s got full flavour and real flavour. Not as tough a call as the Grant’s but there is a lot of thinking required with this beer.
  • Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout: from Fort Bragg, California. Very nicely balanced for a 8.9% beer. Lots and lots of roasty-toasty roast barley imparting a garnet hue to the inky ale, its tan head quickly dissipating. The hops are not minty and the nose is actually floral with a fair bit of black rum Christmas cake dry fruitiness as well. There is a lot of heat with hoppy spicy over the roasted black malt and roast barley and with a creamy heart. A very nice example of a well layered beer – like a big red wine lots and lots of flavours that open up over time. It would be interesting to do a side by side with Freeminer Deep Shaft, my favorite stout since I began these notes.

There you go. All six done and a fine range of examples of part of what people might think of when you say “dark beer”.

Stone Brewing, San Diego, California

Two devils for two snowman
 

Two more from Stone Brewing of San Diego: Double Bastard Ale and Smoked Porter. A couple of months ago, I reviewed Arrogant Bastard here and Ruination IPA here.

The Double Bastard poured deep tea in colour with a beige head. It has the richness of Arrogant Bastard simplictor with something more of the hop whallop of Ruination. It is hot with massive malty flavours of tobacco, leather ballglove, apple butter and fig. Heavy body. At 10% alcohol it ought to whallop but it is a well blanketed bat that strikes. Comfort then good night. Here is what the advocation is saying.

The Smoked Porter was deep garnet, its rich smokiness not overwhelming and not really much in the finish. Below the molassesy deep malt there was some surprisingly fresh grape juiciness, then cola, then dates all laced with the reek. At 5.9% is is one of the more modest Stone brews. Not one of the BA’ers has a bad word to say about it. I think I had a pint of this on tap when I was in Vancouver in 1998 at The Whip, one of the nation’s finer spots, with my pal Robyn on a Saturday afternoon before we retired to Granville Island Market for rhubarb pie. Maybe these happy happy men who teach a beer class at UBC are occassional Whiperonians.

Arrogant Bastard Ale, Stone Brewing, California

This is a hot beer. Boozy. Good boozy.

But what would you expect from a beer who has its own URL at www.arrogantbastard.com and has “You Are Not Worthy” on the cap. Stone Brewing Company has a satanic theme going with its branding, too, that probably ensures that it will never be sold in the Liquor Commissions of Atlantic Canada. [Come to think of it, not unlike the third wave California ska band Mephiskaphelese, they of the skanking version of “Bumblebee Tuna”.] The webpage also includes personal oaths that you have to accept before it will let you in, including:

I acknowledge that the material contained herein may be contrary to the multi-million dollar ad campaigns conducted by large brewing companies I may or may not have been fool enough to believe in the past.

Attitude. Expected from a beer that also comes in double and oaked versions in 3 litre bottles with padlocks. I did not notice them being described as family sized.

The beer is loverly, ruby mahogany with none of the unbalanced hoppy excess of Stone’s Ruination IRA. No, this is pure balanced excess. Concentrate of ale. The hops are herbal and vegetative rather than floral, the water soft. It is a real showpiece of malt, big and rich but nothing tricky, no thread of chocolate or smoke. This is umami beer – not utterly dissimilar from miso if you think about it. If the Ruinator is raw garlic, Arrogant Bastard is it slow roasted. All the advocatonians, but for 2%, like it. One did not like the heat of the alcohol, one thought it was unfortunate that you could only have one or two. Deary me. The departed brewers of Belgium are rolling over in their graves.

$3.99 USD for one 22 oz bomber at the Party Source. With all the top ups at the border, probably something like $7.50 CND to get it to my sofa.

Big Hop Bombs: Ruination IPA, Stone Brewing, California

Nothing but an ale most masterful could claim this name. 7.7%. Light wine. It smells like opening a bag of hops pellets and tastes like licking one out. This is a BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEG brew and meant to be. If you do not like hops this is not the beer for you. If you can not contemplate beauty in the idea of having hops petals sprinkled upon your salad of leafy spring greens, this may not be the brew for you. If you like beer that hits your mouth like Tabasco with no pepper in sight, you may want to try it out. The bottle says:

Stone Ruination IPA. So called because of the immediate ruinous effect on your palate. The moment after the first swallow, all other food and drink items suddenly become substantially more bland than they were seconds before.

The same could be said for spraying your mouth with aerosol Pledge or Minwax…and for the same reason. This is BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEG. Have I said that already? It is like distilling blue cheese down to a syrup and sucking down a pint of that. Intensity. Supersaturation of the hop acid. 100+ International bittering units. Right there. In my mouth. Here is what others say. Here is what the brewery says.Wow.