Going to extremes
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
Extreme. It’s a word that’s lost its meaning, thanks to overuse in thousands of lame marketing pushes, commercials, and product names. But in the beer scene, the adjective ‘extreme’ still means ‘you’d better watch out.’
If you figure most beer comes in around 5% alcohol by volume, than how else could a 9% beer be described? For the record, that 9% is nothing. American brewers routinely brew beers in the 11-12% beer range, and some, such as Sam Adams Utopias, have hit the 25% alcohol mark.
Now, barring the obvious relativity question about any of these beers being ‘extreme’ if their strength is so commonplace, let’s take a moment to ponder the evolution of this almost purely American lust for super strong beer.
First of all, a beer of great potency isn’t necessarily extreme just because of that strength. German Doppelbocks can range as high as 11%, but that’s a traditional style all its own. For a beer to be extreme, it needs to be either some bizzaro mutant from an established style, or a mad scientist’s creation bearing little resemblance to any style whatsoever.
A good example of the former would be The Czar Imperial Stout from Colorado’s Avery Brewing Company. It’s a 12/2% ABV beast, a takeoff on a style originally brewed strong to survive the voyage from the UK to the court of the Russian empire.
The Czar is a testament to brewers’ skill. Despite its strength, there’s very little alcoholic burn in the flavor. Chocolate, mocha, and strong malt sweetness are much more prevalent, along with a creamy, comforting body. For a beer of this strength, The Czar is dangerously drinkable.
Pennsylvania’s Weyerbacher brewery, known for its strong beers, gives us an amped-up version of IPA brewed with Simcoe hops, and thusly named Double Simcoe IPA. The intense flavor of this beer won’t be for everyone. But those who like it like it a lot. And then they fall down.
Double Simcoe checks in at 9% ABV, which is more than enough to get folks to develop a judgment problem after just one pint. But the beer isn’t just massive in alcohol content; it’s also huge in hop character, and in all the citrusy, piney nuances those flowers release. To add balance, the malt flavor is magnified as well,
The result is a toffee-colored, thick brew with a pervasive ivory head and an earthy, funky aroma. Each sip is a boot to the taste buds, filing the mouth with fruity esters, grapefruit bitterness, and a candy like quality that rounds out the harshest bits. Double Simcoe is truly a beer for a connoisseur. Or a masochist.
Representing the “mad scientist” approach to extreme beer, we have, who else, the good folks at Dogfish Head. Over the years, they’ve developed a rep for producing the most offbeat, convention-defying brews in the nation.
Chateau Jiahu is no exception. It’s described as a modern recreation of a 9000-year-old Chinese beverage, traces of which were discovered by Archaeologists in clay pots (the beverage, not the Archaeologists). But really, who’s gonna know if they just made that story up for marketing?
At any rate, the resulting “beer” is a mishmash of malt, Muscat grapes, Hawthorn fruit (whatever that is), rice and chrysanthemum flowers.
The taste is as hard to describe as you’d expect. Kind of winy, sweet, with a honey funk. There’s an herbal quality and an aftertaste like no other beer. It’s not bad, but you’ll definitely have to make a psychological leap in your taste expectations, because it isn’t going to taste like any beer style as you know it. At “only” 8%, Jiahu isn’t killer strong for this category, but this weird alcoholic Jackson Pollock painting earns extreme points for its ingredients and genesis.
Just remember to be careful when you get these beers. Usually, the extreme stuff served on draft is poured into 11oz glasses instead of full pints; that’s for your benefit and the continuation of the pub’s liquor license. These beers go best as nightcaps, to be sipped and enjoyed rather than gulped for quenching purposes. Take it easy, enjoy your snifter, and enjoy the fact that American brewers have enough disregard for classic brewing tradition to invent beers of their own, big, brash, and quintessentially American.
In other beers:
Swan Market, the venerable German butcher shop and deli on Parsells Avenue in Rochester, now has it’s own house beer, brewed by the Rohrbach Brewing Company. It is a German-style beer, but get this: it isn’t a Lager.
Swan’s beer is an Altbier, one of the rare German ales, mostly brewed in the city of Düsseldorf. It’s heartier and darker than a Pilsner, slightly fruity, with a pleasant bitter snap.
Barry Fischer, owner of Swan Market, has not yet decided on his beer’s name and is leaning toward holding a contest to assign the Altbier its moniker.
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.
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