Archive for the 'Beer' Category

17
Aug
13

Hey Abbott

About eight months ago, I promised readers of this blog a post on beer.  My strict publication schedule has finally brought us to that post in a timely manner.  Rather than write on beer at-large, I have decided to approach things a beer at a time – and then elaborate too much in the usual fashion.

Earlier this week I imbibed a brew from the Ommegang Brewery1 of Cooperstown, New York.  They call it “Abbey Ale”, and it is styled after the Dubbel ales produced by those wizards of beercraft, the Trappist monks of Belgium. Here is some information that greets the viewer of this 750mL, $9.99, corked bottle of beer:  8.2% ABV, a silhouette of two monk-like creatures clinking their goblets together, and the following script, “Ale Brewed with Licorice Root, Star Anise, Sweet Orange Peel, Coriander, and Cumin”, followed by, “Rich, Fruity and Aromatic Burgundian Brew”. All very nice, though it is this label information that has made this beer the second (maybe third) Ommegang brew that I’ve tried. Cumin, weird. Coriander, weird. And I dislike licorice. I also wasn’t sure what “Burgundian” really meant in relation to a beer, and I’m still not sure2.

Still, their Three Philosophers ale was ever-so-tasty, so I trusted the brewer if not this particular brew3.  So, I bought it, brought it home, carefully considered it, removed the cork, and poured half a glass in such a manner as to not disturb the settled yeast carcasses over much, yet produce a healthy ‘head’ of bubbles on the poured glass.  I read somewhere that this last bit (the pour) is crucial.  CRUCIAL.  Hard to say if I accomplished the first goal of the pour, though I can attest to achieving the second part.  Anyway, my impressions of this fancy brew once I had a sniff and a taste were – mixed.  All the visual cues were pleasing.  Nice carbonation and attractive color, a warm brown with a touch of red.  The problems started as soon as I lifted the glass toward my face.  The aroma of the beer had a fair amount of that anise/coriander in it, at least to my nose, and this is not what I’ve been conditioned to expect in smelling a beer.  Persevering, I took a drink, and was greeted by much the same.  All the herbs, so proudly displayed in the label text, were equally proudly displayed in the taste and odor of the brew.  This is not to say that the herbs completely dominated the beer.  I’ve had beer, fruity beer usually, in which that occurs, and it is akin to an assault.  No, here it is more akin to a slightly-too-firm handshake.  Not unpleasant, but perhaps a little uncomfortable.

Now this bottle cost me about eleven dollars, so I’m clearly not a particularly frugal person, but I’m also not such a spendthrift that I would let the rest of the bottle go to waste just because I didn’t like the first sip.  Luckily, because the herbs, though assertive, are not overpowering, the beer improves with continued imbibing.  You might ask, doesn’t every beer do this?  The short answer is yes of course4, but the point I’m trying to make here is that the unusual flavors of this beer grew on me.  By the time I was half a glass into the bottle, the taste and aroma of the beer became familiar, less obtrusive.  When I encounter a beer that is a little off-putting to start, it is not common that by the end of the bottle I end up rather liking it.  I think that if I had (1) a more open mind about how beer was meant to taste and smell, and (2) liked anise/licorice, I might have enjoyed this beer thoroughly from start to finish.  As it is, however, I don’t think I’ll be buying it again.  At least not at that price.

1 Also the brewers of a licensed promotional beer for Game of Thrones called the Iron Throne Golden Ale.  A quote from the brewer, “With a Lannister currently on the Throne, it made sense to do a delicate, but piercing Golden Blonde Ale with Noble hops.”  Well spoken, sir.
2 The only thing I could come up with after a bit of looking around is that good Burgundy wines are almost always hailed for having very complex and rich flavors.  I believe this is the quality that Ommegang meant to attribute to this beer.  Still, it is so unclear to the reader that I can only assume that the brewer was just attempting to piggyback on the good name of the Burgundy wine region, despite this brew having nothing to do with it.  Very odd.
3 Made this mistake with Dogfish Head Brewery once at the Oregon Brewers Festival.  The brewers of the very fine 90 Minute IPA also make the Black & Red.  Stay far, far away from that one my friends.  Syrupy, heavy, very fruity, high alcohol, and very, very minty in the middle of the hot Oregon summer.  Mint?  What?
4 Well, to a point anyway.

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08
Oct
12

Enjoying Some Adult Beverages

I have recently been enjoying the powerful brews of the North Coast Brewing Company.  These guys hail from Fort Bragg, CA, and in my opinion make one of the finest line-ups in the microbrew industry.  I’ll limit myself to what I’ve tried:  the Old Stock Ale, the Brother Thelonious Belgian Style Abbey Ale, the Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout, the Le Merle Belgian Style Farmhouse Ale, the Pranqster Belgian Style Golden Ale, the Red Seal Ale, and the Scrimshaw Pilsner.  There’s a few others, but I haven’t seen them, and the just-a-bit-too-long three hour pilgrimage to the actual brewery means that I haven’t tried their “Barrel-Aged” varieties.  (I think I’ve got my lovely wife sold on going up there sometime though, so stay tuned.)  Anyway, they are all very good.  If I had to pick a least favorite, it would be the Pranqster, partially because of the odd-ball name, but mostly because I don’t think it stands out, particularly when compared to the Le Merle.  Sure, they’re slightly different styles, but at least from my experience, Le Merle captures a lot more of what it’s attempting to emulate, i.e. the Belgians and their oh-so-tasty-but-oh-so-expensive golden ales.  If I had to pick a favorite, it would probably be ‘the Brother’.  A bottle of that stuff, and well, the Brother starts talking to me.  So to speak.  It’s in the dark, ‘dubbel’ style, and it is very strong without being too alcohol-y.  Great label art as well.  To my taste, it might benefit from a little more carbonation, but I suppose adjusting that part of the brewing process might get rid of all those delightful flavors that it currently possesses.  Not that I would know.

Along those lines, it has occurred to me, that despite drinking and, most of time, enjoying beer with some regularity, I know only a little about it.  You know, the brewer guy takes some malt and some water, boils it, adds hops at some point, waits some period of time (longer for lagers), and voila, there be beer.  Simple.  Of course, at this level, when I drink a bad beer*, there’s very little in the way of critical thought about why it is bad beyond, “Ugh.  Won’t get that one again.”  I’m going to try and give specific beers and the science behind beer a semi-regular slot on this blog.  I hope readers will find those future installments of interest.  In the meantime, go buy yourself a bottle of Brother Thelonious and let him speak to you as well.

* Pick any “macro” brew that isn’t ice-cold for an example of this.  Or Dogfish Head’s ‘Black and Red’ that they brought to the Portland Brewfest a couple years back.  Blech.