Readers of this blog will be all to familiar with our generic stance on beer extremity, but we prefer not to paint ourselves into corners. With this in mind, I bellied up to the The Old Toad’s weathered bar and ordered a Boulder Mojo Risin’ Double IPA.

It pains me to admit how much I liked this beer, mostly because the name references a Doors song and I hate The Doors. All through high school I was subjected to their uninspired, organ-heavy boring, flat-voiced singsong pop. And everyone’s always like “Oh! Jim Morrison is such a great poet!” He was not a poet; he was a hack. ee cummings was a great poet. Ralph Waldo Emerson was a great poet. The guy who wrote “There once was a girl from Nantucket” was a better poet than Morrison, who once penned the line “If they say I never loved you/You know they are a liar.”  Jim Morrison can kiss my ass.

But I digress.

I was expecting a raw, bitter, overwhelmingly hoppy beer with a back end composed of harsh alcohol heat, but Mojo Risin’ is much more subtle than that. It’s buttery smooth without being cloying, and the intense bitterness is complemented by a malt smoothness that rounds off and effectively subdues the taste of the alcohol. This is a dangerous beer; it would be easy to absent-mindedly consume several pints while forgetting that it’s 10.5% ABV.

I’ve had this experience with a couple “extreme” beers lately. Could it be that the brewers who make them are growing a bit self-conscious about their single-minded pursuit of strength and bitterness above all else? If extreme beer turns into good beer, the American brewing community will realy have made its mark in the world of beer.

-Mark

It’s amazing what some people will do for fun. Some run marathons, some get shot with stingy little paintballs, some even suspend themselves from sharp hooks pushed through the bleeding flesh of their own backs.Bruce and I dispense beer at beer festivals.

This weekend found us in the teeming metropolis of Hunter, New York, for Tap NY, the state’s premier beer festival, and due to its proximity to the Tri-State area, one of the most attended. Dozens of breweries from all over New York, New Jersey and Canada offered up their finest for the sampling pleasure of the masses.

For the first day, the masses didn’t seem overly interested in the finest. Maybe the most alcoholically strong, but subtle flavor and aroma characteristics did not seem to be a top priority for many. One poor kid (I’m guessing he was about 21 by the way he couldn’t stand up) managed to get himself literally covered in a complex, hoppy yet smokey carmel-tinged Ithaca Ten, which dripped sadly off the brim of his baseball cap onto the back of his right shoulder as a big brown stain spread across his Abercrombie logo. Even with the younger crowd though, drink-addled outbursts seemed to be kept to a minimum. I saw no violence, no vomit. Oh well, you can’t have everything.

Give me your huddled masses waiting to be drunk

No, seriously, it’s a tribute to the festival organizers and the Hunter Mountain staff that things went so smoothly. This is a long-standing and well-run festival, and every effort is made to accommodate the brewers. Festival Co-Founder Nat Collins stood on his head to make sure that every exhibitor had a problem-free festival. The guy did laps the whole time; it looked exhausting.

 Festival co-founder Nat Collins

We basically poured nonstop for four hours, running out of the Rohrbach Bluebeary ale on the first day, and growing concerned that we didn’t bring enough beer to last the entirety of the two-day event. You can only fit four kegs in the back of a Honda Element.

The night was spent dodging creepy twin toddlers in the hallway at an anachronistic borscht-belt era resort called the Villa Vosilla, and drinking the neighboring O’Neil’s Pub, which had the common decency to feature one of our favorite beers, Roosterfish Nut Brown Ale, on draft. This went over particularly well considering we were drinking with Jordan Sunseri, one of the Roosterfish brewers.

The outside breweries prep for Sunday

As is the norm at these festivals, the Sunday crowd was thinner in number, older, and generally more interested in the beer.

The day kicked of with the chick from the Ale Street News booth apologizing profusely for how she acted while partying the previous night, which must have been terrible because we never laid eyes on her. But being magnanimous, I offered my forgiveness with a stern admonishment not to let it happen again.

We cruised through the Sunday crowd with relative ease, with plenty of sampling opportunities for the two of us. My favorites: Sixpoint Gorilla Warfare, Southampton Secret Ale, and Chelsea Cream Stout. We also met a bunch of cool brewing guys from Sixpoint, Keegan and others. This is the part I like best about working beer festivals: making new friends, talking beer and coming away a bit envious that I don’t work among the big tanks myself.

Lake Placid Maibock: a malty standout 

After the last gasp of foam spurted from our final keg, we packed up and hauled ass through the backest of central New York State roads, to the Thruway and over to Rochester’s Tap and Mallet, where we shared a couple pints with Rochester radio dj Dem Jones. A great end to a great festival.

Jeff from Ithaca Brewing with his prize, apparently some subs. 

Congratulations to all the breweries that won prizes. And a special shout-out to Jeff and the guys from the Ithaca Brewing Company who won Best New York State Craft Brewery. We’ll see you at Hunter Mountain next year.

-Mark

A quick shout-out to the folks at the Hoxton Square Bar, in Hoxton Square, London. This place chucks the traditional tied-house system out the window.

You see, by tradition, the typical British pub is “tied” to one particular brewery. In exchange for assistance with rent, material goods, and other favors from the brewery, the pub agrees to sell that producer’s beer exclusively. It’s one of the things that frustrates English beer lovers who search for variety.

But that system is going the way of the red telephone box. The Hoxton Square Bar has a worldly beer list, from Belgians like DeKonick to Brooklyn Lager and other American craft brews. They also have a full restaurant and an attached music venue, so you can get your entire evening’s worth of entertainment in one place, which, if you’re visiting London, is probably exactly what you’d want to do.

-Mark

Oak ‘em if you got ‘em

Looks like Bruce got his hot little hands on an oaken barrel– a tool which can only be used for evil once the Buffalo Road Rohrbach Brewery is set up. Let’s just hope he doesn’t go all overboard and brew an “oaky-weizen” or something. You never know with that freak. Anyway, the location is coming along, but it’ll still be a few more weeks before any brewing resumes at Buffalo Road.

A beer journey

Bruce and I are doing another beer trip this weekend. We’re heading down to Tap NY to pour for the Rohrbach Brewing Company. It’s a long drive with four kegs in a Honda Element, but epic journeys are our thing. We live for the danger, baby. The excitement. That’s how we roll.

Tap NY is one of the premier events for New York State breweries, and this will be the first time in six years that Rohrbach has a booth. It’s held a picturesque Hunter Mountain in picturesque Hunter, New York, in a picturesque ski lodge. It’s my understanding that action has been taken this year to reduce the heavy crowding that was becoming a turn-off to many festival attendees.

High Falls

No specifics yet, but I’ve heard the sad news that Dave Schlosser has moved on from the High Falls brewing Company. That’s a loss not only to the brewery, but also to the entire beer lover’s community in the Northeast. Details are nonexistent, but my gut tells me High Falls might be prepping for a sellout to the majors. Of course, folks have been speculating about that for 20 years.

Custom Brewcrafters

Brewing has commenced in Custom Brewcrafters’ monolithic new Honeoye Falls brewery, but the brewing area is not quite ready for tours so don’t go rushing down there and bothering Jason, Greg and John. The retail area of the brand-new, custom built brewery is open to the public; I’ve heard it has the feel of a Finger Lakes winery tasting room: inviting, warm and spacious. I’ll be checking it out over the next few days. With a designated driver.

-Mark

American Wheat Ale
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish

You know those really hot summer days? The kind where your tires stick to the blacktop and, once you get out of the shower in the morning, you never really get dry? Those sweltering days cry out for the refreshment only a beer can bring.

But not just any beer. No one wants to sit on their sun-spattered patio with a mouth-coating imperial porter. Better off with something light and quenching. The Germans had the right idea when they invented Hefeweizen, the quintessential wheat beer of Bavaria. The wheat which substitutes for a portion of the brewer’s barley lend the beer a lightness and mouthfeel that’s beyond compare.

Likewise, on the rare occasions when the sun peeks through the omnipresent cloud blanket over Belgium, the thing to do is sit at an outdoor table with a witbeer, the indigenous pale, wheat ale with hints of clove and orange zest.

Hefeweizen and witbier are now well known in the USA; you can find Fransiskaner and Hoegaarden all over the place. Unsurprisingly, American brewers have taken up the challenge of recreating these European styles with zeal.  In fact, Pierre Celis, the Belgian guy who created the now-famous Hoegaarden, moved to Texas to open up the Celis Brewery (which he eventually sold to a major conglomerate that destroyed it).

More still have done to wheat beers what they did to IPA a decade earlier: they turned them into a brand new, uniquely American style.

American wheat ales may share the light body and crisp finish of their continental ancestors, but that’s about it. Gone are the banana and bubblegum notes of Weizen. Likewise, the distinct orange peel and clove flavors of Wit make little more than cameo appearances. Hardcore beer geeks might sneer at the style because of its lack of explosive flavor or character, but that might be missing the point. The strength of American wheats is their refreshing body and light mouthfeel.

And as is so often the case with American breweries, our wheat beers show only a passing commonality among each other. Some might have a gentle sweetness, while others might be a slight hop bite due to the use of high alpha acid domestic hops,

Some, Like Long Trail Blackbeary Wheat and Saranac Pomegranate Wheat, are brewed with fruit. These tend to be extremely light in body, and neutral in hop character so as not to overwhelm their delicate flavoring. They’re a great choice for people who really don’t like the grainy and hoppy flavors of traditional beer.

Dark wheat beers also pop up from time to time. Odd Notion, from Magic Hat, is a unique caramel-colored winter wheat ale that combines chocolate notes with fruitiness.

The latest trend is wheatwine- a take on very strong ale that uses wheat to impart a lighter consistency than its all-barley cousin.  Two years ago, you couldn’t find a friggin’ wheatwine anywhere, But since American brewers are slightly more fad-oriented than 13 year old girls, wheatwines are popping up like dandelions.

Trendiness aside, American wheat beer is a very good introduction to craft beer for people used to mass-market lager, it also makes a compelling alternative to high-status, overpriced imports from south of the border. You won’t even need a lime.

In other beers:
Fishfest is in full swing at The Old Toad. Rochester’s long-standing signature beer bar is showcasing the beers of Dogfish Head, one of the moment’s trendiest breweries, and the undeservedly obscure Rooster Fish brewery in Watkins Glen.

Some Dogfish Head beers, like Chateau Jiahu and Raison D’etre, you just never see on tap. The Toad has them. They’re also pouring Indian Brown Ale and 90-minute IPA straight from the Randalizer, a DFH invention that filters the fresh draft beer through fresh hops and into your glass for an extra grassy kick.  The Rooster Fish offerings are casked, bringing out their subtleties and showcasing what this small Finger Lakes brewery is capable of.  Try the Hop Warrior and odds are you’ll order a second pint.

The Tap and Mallet will be featuring the next installment of its Beer Social series on Wednesday, April 30. The theme: dark beers. This is so open-ended that big surprises are almost a certainty. A brewer (unspecified) from The Southern Tier Brewery of Lakewood, NY, will be guest presenting.  Tickets are $12 and you should buy them in advance to guarantee a place at the social.

Bruce is a certified beer judge and commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http:://www.beercraftsite.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.

This one’s back by popular demand. From women.

Beer has been brewed with fruit since a time long ago, the specifics of which I don’t feel like looking up, and that tradition continues today, through the classic lambics of Belgium to inventive new concoctions on the cutting edge of American brewing.

Join Mark, Bruce and Pat at 7:30pm on Thursday, April 17, to taste for yourself how harmonious these combinations can be. As always, we’re at Monty’s Korner, on the corner of East Avenue and Alexander Street, in scenic Rochester, New York.

Edit: The Tap and Mallet’s beer social is April 30, no this week as originally reported. Oops.

Rochester has some pretty cool beer events coming up. The Tap and Mallet will be hosting the fourth of its “Beer Social” tasting sessions Wednesday April 30. The theme is dark beers, and the guest presenter is some guy from the Southern Tier Brewing Company.

I run a regular tasting session too, but it’s nothing like what Joe does at the Tap. His beer selections are impeccable, his guest speakers knowledgeable, and dude puts out a mean antipasto tray. It costs $12, but you don’t go away thirsty. Or hungry.

Meanwhile, this coming Thursday, The Old Toad is kicking off Fish Fest, an ongoing celebration of the breweries Dogfish Head and Roosterfish. They’ll have rare casked ales and unique one-offs not usually available in Upstate New York. It’s going to be the first time Dogfish Head’s Chateau Jiahu is on draft in Rochester. I think the festival is going to go on until they run out of the beer, but for the best stuff, get to the Toad soon.

Fellow beercrafter Pat Hughes and I made a pilsner in his comically well-equipped basement brewery last friday. We did all-grain with a decoction mash. It’s a bit dark, but everything looks like it went well.

Of course, Pat gets most of the credit. He’s an experienced all-grain homebrewer and one of those guys who’s depressingly good at math. So he formulated the recipe did the timing, operated hos valves and levers, and handled the troubleshooting. I ground up grain and stirred. And lifted heavy stuff.

I gotta tell you, homebrewing is a terrific hobby for anyone who loves watching large quantities of liquid heat up.

-Mark

I wound up sharing some bar space with Chris Carlson last night. He’s a man with a passion for spirits. Gin, vodka, rum, you name it, he can speak about it with authority.

Carlson runs spiritsreview.com, on which he categorizes, rates and reviews not only the common stuff but also liquors from small artisan distillers (weren’t they called ‘moonshiners’ in days gone by?) from all over the freakin’ place.

You know, it’s tough enough on my liver just to be a beer writer. Imagine having to taste 100 proof vodka all day. I don’t know how he does it. All I can do is offer up a toast and pray for dude’s brain cells. Cheers, Chris!

In other news, I’m pissed off because I dropped my camera and broke my 50mm lens. So now I can’t post beautiful pictures of beer that are not monotonous in any way.  Oh well, at least I have a reason to wait for the UPS guy.

-Mark

A new bar, The Magpie, is now open on Park Avenue in Rochester, in the former location of the First Taste grill. We checked it out last night and mostly liked what we saw. The theme is pseudo-classy, with lots of warm, dark wood tones. The narrow main room is dominated by a bar with full liquor shelf and 15 taplines. Owner John Dimetopo…Dimetoupo….John told me he was encouraged by the early flood of custom. Apparently the place is getting a white-collar professional crowd early and a somewhat younger set later in the evening. On the night of our improptu visit, the ratio of females to males was encouraging, if you’re a dude.

There’s nothing overly exciting on the draft line yet, and John made it clear he’s not trying to be a Tap & Mallet clone. The best beer on is Brooklyn Brown Ale. The very cool wood and glass-fronted cooler had some decent bottles: Leffe Brown and stuff like that.

The place is still feeling its oats, and we’ll see who gravitates to The Magpie. My feeling is that it’s going to be a comfortable, social watering hole until about 9pm, at which point the meat-market Hollister-wearing white-capped Dave matthews Band-listening Retar…er, young men and women… will take over.But for now, it’s a pleasant place to grab a decent brew and watch the Yankee game.

-Mark

Voting with our taste buds
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish

You almost take it for granted now, don’t you?

It’s become a matter of routine to see locally, or at least regionally brewed beers in almost any establishment. You know that, whether you’re walking into the slimiest dive bar or swankiest cocktail lounge, there’s likely to be at least a passing nod to a craft beer style, a pale ale maybe, or a wheat beer.

We are in the midst of a full-on craft beer supernova. According to the Brewers’ Association, craft beer sales grew 12% in volume, and 16% in dollars during 2007. This is the third straight year of double-digit growth for this category of beer.

In a recent press release, Brewers Association Director Paul Gatze has been quoted (most likely by himself) as saying “Since 2004, dollar sales by craft brewers have increased by 58 percent. The strength of this correlates with the American trend of buying local products and a preference for more flavorful foods and beers.”

It’s true. You are the ones who have demonstrated a thirst for the products of entrepreneurial beer lovers. In a rare example of the market economy actually working for the benefit of and by the choice of the people, you’ve voted with your taste buds.

And you won. In 1978, within the millions of square miles that comprise America, there were only 41 brewing companies remaining, with a total of 89 breweries between them. Today, the number of American breweries has mushroomed to 1,449. And that number is still growing.

Craft breweries have turned the concept of American business on its ear. They thrive in some of the smallest, most out-of-the-way locations, as well as in run-down industrial districts. While several have morphed in to full-on national chain operations, most are content to operate regionally, secure in the knowledge that the beer market need not be dominated, or cornered, for everyone to share in the wealth.

That has a lot to do with the quaffing habits of the craft beer drinker, one of the least loyal customers on earth. According to a bunch of stuff we found on the internet, the typical craft beer lover is 30-39 years old, affluent, consumes a smaller quantity of beer than younger drinkers, but is willing to pay more for quality, and takes advantage of the variety of beers on offer instead of sticking to one brand or style.

While large national brewers can focus their tremendous advertising power to generate loyalty to their brands, craft brewers are unable to spend the money necessary to do the same, and, more telling, it wouldn’t work on their core customers.

Thus, we have sort of a national-level farmer’s market of beer, with customers going from stall to stall, finding new flavors, experiencing regional differences, truly appreciating goods produced on an artisan level. If we got to shop for furniture this way, the Amish would be all over the place and no one would be stuck buying those ridiculous disintegrating flakeboard Swedish bookcases unless they really liked the TV commercials.

Now bear in mind, dear reader, that although we’re talking about an enormous amount of craft beer, it’s still about 3% of the national beer market. And while that’s not a huge slice of the overall pie, it’s enough to make the big boys, whose sales have been stagnant, take notice.

Miller, Budweiser and Coors are not sitting idly back and letting craft brewers nibble away at the corners of their lunch. Each produces its own line of craft-oriented beers. But national-level companies lack the agility to compete well at the local level; the payoff is simply too small.

So the little guy has thrived in the shadow of (Macro Beer execs might say ‘under the refrigerator of’) the brewing giants. It seems the only way not to share the wealth is to make bad beer. As the American drinker grows more sophisticated and savvy, brewers of substandard micro-level beer teeter on a knife edge and quickly disappear.

And that’s fine. The craft beer industry is everything your eighth-grade social studies teacher taught you the capitalist system should be: Laissez-faire economics, survival of the fittest, and the resulting damn good product.

If only things worked this well in the insurance business.

Bruce is a certified beer judge and commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http:://www.beercraftsite.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.