Here’s a new one for your monthly calendar: The Rohrbach Brewing Company, long known for their beer-pairing dinners, will be hosting Brewtopia, an educationally minded tour through beer and its variety of styles and flavors.
The first one is tomorrow night at 6:30 at their Ogden location, and it’s hosted by beer guru Steve Hodos, a man who definitely deserves recognition as Western New York’s version of Michael Jackson (no, the other one).
This premier event is sold out, so if you want to go I’d suggest asking nicely at the door. At any rate, the series is ongoing, and will be held the last Thursday of every month. More info can be found at www.rohrbachs.com
Here we are at Rochester’s Tap and Mallet, where we shall experience the exquisite marriage of oyster and oyster stout. Harpoon Oyster Stout, to be exact. Dry, medium-bodied, with explosive flavor and just a touch of maritime, mineral flavor, this exploration of an underappreciated style demonstrates why sometimes it’s worth studying your brewing history.
Traditional oyster stout, you see, is made with oysters. A quantity of the labiesque little mollusks (or whatever they are) get thrown into the barrel to suffuse the beer with their essence. The result is, well, pretty much what I just described above, and it goes extremely well with a quantity of those little buggers on the half shell.
In a sec, they’re gonna whip some out and shuck them. Let’s see how greedy I can be.
Whoa, hang onto your tech, boys and girls. This afternoon at 4pm, Beercraft will blog LIVE and in synchronous real time from the Rochester debut of Harpoon Oyster Stout at the Tap and Mallet.
Well, actually this sounds more techie than it is. There won’t be any audio or video. Really I’ll just be doing a blog entry while sipping this highly anticipated beer and scarfing free oysters, looking like a complete dork in the process.Anyway, the Tap and Mallet’s event pairs the brand new Harpoon Oyster Stout with a bunch of delicious yummy oysters. I love oysters. And what better place to consume an aphrodisiac food then while getting tipsy in the company of a bunch of rotund, hygene-challenged beer lovers?
I know, that’s just a stereotype. Tune in at 4pm for more of them.
Behold the hop. Compact, bright green like an immature pine cone, maybe a bit sticky to the touch, The female flower of the Humulus plant is what makes the diversity of beer possible. And the humble hop, cherished by brewers and drinkers since the Middle Ages, is equally prized by people who love beer today.
The oils and resin in hops make beer bitter. They also emit powerful, awesome smells. The amount of bitterness and aroma varies between hop species. When making beer, a brewer picks the hop varieties that work for his intended final beverage and regulates factors such as the amount of hops added, length of hop boil, and addition point in the overall brewing process.
The selection and use of hops is one of the aspects of brewing that make it more than just boiling stuff and waiting. It’s a skill vital to anyone who makes beer, be it the head brewer at a major indie beer company or the homebrewer who wants to be able to share with her friends without making them barf.
Some hops definitely impart more of a presence on beer than others, and right now, in the USA bitter is king, so a lot of craft beer uses hop varieties grown in the pacific Northwest (such as Cascade) that have high alpha acid content. On the other hand, a centuries-old German brewery might make a beer using a Noble hop, one of the four central European Species prized for their low bitterness and high aromatic character.
Most beers contain a mix of hop varieties, with different types used in the bittering and aromatic stages of brewing, and many beers benefit from a combination of traditional species and types developed and cultivated only recently.
Because brewers like to measure stuff, there’s a measurement for bitterness: the international bitterness unit (IBU). Whereas the aforementioned German beer, let’s say it’s a Helles, might rate at 30 IBU, a big double IPA could hit 75.
Super bitter styles like American IPA take some getting used to but can be a pleasant kick to the palate. Since bitterness is one of the most distinctive traits of American craft beer, it’s not uncommon for beer newbies to gravitate toward the bitterest beer they can find, neglecting many delicious possibilities for something that makes them feel sophisticated, yet safe.
So we see brewers designing and marketing incredibly bitter (and often comically strong) beers. The taste buds can only discern up to around 90 IBUS, so the scale effectively stops there, but that doesn’t prevent our nation’s craft brewers from pushing the physical reactions of hops in boiling wort to the limit of their technical capability.
“The hoppiest beer? It’s a fairly idiotic pursuit, like a chef saying, ‘This is the saltiest dish.’ Anyone can toss hops in a pot, but can you make it beautiful?” This statement, by the iconic Garrett Oliver, brewmaster at the Brooklyn Brewery, reminds us that there is more to beer than bitterness, and more to hops than alpha acids.
When we speak of balance in a beer, we primarily mean an intangible ratio of bite to body, that the beer does not possess all bitterness and thin flavor.Usually it’s assumed that bitter is balanced by malt, but since such a large percentage of flavor perception comes through the nose, a beer’s aroma has much to do with balance as well.
Hops supply much of what we smell in our brew. Floral notes, wafts of citrus, a hint of evergreen needles, these beloved traits do much to give iconic hoppy beers distinctive character. Double IPAs like Dogfish Head 120 minute and Bell’s Oracle envelop your head in aroma before the glass reaches your lips, and frankly we think it’s kinda pleasant to just hang out there, nose over liquid, breathing deeply before that anticipated first sip.
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. Find us on Twitter @beercraft. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
We’re gonna be talking about Lagers. You know, the style you immediately blew off as typical of mainstream American beer the second you tried your first IPA? Well it’s time you got reacquainted with the other half of the good beer spectrum.
Lager can be clean and crisp or dark and complex. It can be as bitter as IPA or as sweet as dessert.And we, my friends, are gonna run the Gamut.
Corey from Sly Fox Brewingof Phoenixville, PA will be on hand to do some guest presenting. Show starts at 7:30 at Monty’s Korner in Rochester, NY. $5 gets you a fun evening.
Last night, I shared some bar space with the local Harpoon Rep. Dude is brand new in the business, very personable, and obviously passionate about his job and his beer.
He mentioned we’d be seeing more Harpoon beer in Rochester, which is a good thing (especially when it’s the upcoming Harpoon Oyster Stout). But a glance up at the at the taps begged the question, ‘where are you going to put this beer?’
No pub worth its suds leaves lines open, just hanging there, waiting for the perfect keg to roll itself up the handicapped-accessible ramp. Casual customers may not always notice the procession of sales representatives from distributors and breweries that prevent proprietors from enjoying leisurely games of solitaire during the earler hours of the day, and convincing bar management to allocate tap space is one of those beer rep responsibilities that resembles actual work.
This is tough for the America’s big beers, who fight over a stagnant market share. A Budweiser tap can stay a Bud tap for years, whereas pubs that stake their reputations on craft beer will rotate their taplines frequeently, ensuring that customers get variety and many breweries get a point of sale.
But the craft beer industry now commands 6% of the total beer market. The stakes are higher, and the competitors more moneyed, than ever before. Suddenly, when the rep from a brewery such as Harpoon wants to push up his volume in a market, he’s not facing a couple local companies selling beer out of a conversion van. He gets to push his way in among Stone, Victory, Dogfish Head, the best of the best, nationwide.
At this point in time, screwing on those big name indie brewers’ taphandles does more than sell some pints to enthusiasts. Those names, those signs in the window, solidify a pub’s reputation as a place to get great beer. And there are a fair amount of big name breweries now.
Are we reaching a saturation point, now that every megacraft brewer, from every corner of the country, so frequently rubs up against all its competitors? Are we getting to a point where the venture capital firms funding some of these ventures see a business case for buying each other up?
I don’t like things to go this way, but everything I see points to a consolidation of the indie beer industry. It’s hard to definitively say that the customer would suffer, should that take place, since most of the large indie brewers passionately focus on high product quality, but it would definitely make the American beer landscape a bit less diverse.
You get used to it, but that doesn’t mean it gets any easier.
In the northeast, February is when the true gloom of winter sets in, when the morning cold feels like it generates in your bones and radiates out from there. The lines of city skyscrapers diffuse into the thick pallor of a sky the color of dryer lint.
Well, our dryers anyway. If you have a lot of pink clothes, that metaphor might not apply. But you get the point.Midwinter is gloomy and people can get really bummed about it. The lack of sunlight affects moods.
It might even drive some people to drink.
And if that’s your plan, allow us to recommend a few beers that’ll put a little fermented sunshine into your day.
Tröegs Nugget Nectar, from the Tröegs Brewing Company of Harrisburg, PA can make any groundhog ignore its shadow. Legendary beer among brewing geeks, Nugget Nectar makes its presence known as soon as your nose approaches the glass. An aggressive aroma hints at an explosion of citrus to the palate, tempered with a soft but firm bitterness that gives those spring flavors something to wrap around.
Tröegs calls Nugget Nectar an Imperial Amber Ale, but realistically this beer is in a class of its own, and it’s highly sought after each year when it makes its midwinter seasonal appearance.
One of the largest independent brewers, the Boston Beer Company, promotes anticipation of spring with Samuel Adams Noble Pils. It noticeably bucks the bigger, heavier beer trend with a light snappiness and teasing hoppy finish.
Though its flavor does not overpower, Noble Pils possesses a spicy zest that cuts through most foods, with a solid grain backbone that helps the beer avoid wateriness. This is one of the finest Sam Adams seasonals to date; in terms of seasonal rejuvenation, a couple pints of Noble Pils beats an hour in a tanning bed hands down.
Our third beer is a West Coaster:Sierra Nevada’s Glissade Golden Bock. A deep ruddy color and complex aroma gives way to a slightly spicy, medium-bodied glass of awesome.
Glissade retains the punchy finish for which West Coast beers are known, but in a subtle European way. Heavy use of German hops lends a character that manages to surprise even though it’s familiar. Glissade’s medium body and snappy flavor can make you swear that it’s the middle of April, even thought the calendar says ‘February.’ This effect is especially potent when consuming Glissade in a warm, windowless room.
As a cure-all for seasonal blahs, beer probably isn’t the best choice. But as one element of a larger palette of pleasures, the right brew can provide a pleasant solace amid the slush fields of Western New York. Until spring shows up for real, you might as well enjoy as much of the feeling as you can get.
In other beers:
Want to combine your love of craft beer with an extremely slippery and solid surface? Then head out to the Scottsville Ice Arena Winterfest on Saturday, February 13, and enjoy one of the best little festivals in our area.
In addition to beer and wine tasting, you can enjoy chili and chicken wing contests, a pig roast, live music, and open skating. Admission is $10, $5 for kids 12 and under. All proceeds go to the continued operation of the nonprofit Scottsville Ice Arena.
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. Find us on Twitter @beercraft. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
My band, The Sisters of Murphy, has a gig at Lovin’ Cup on the normal Beer School date. So we’re moving Beer School back a week to February 18.
This month, we’ll be exploring *gasp* lagers, the antithesis of everything for which the modern enlightened beer snob stands. We’ll try several from around the world, and demonstrate that Lager is in fact an old, complex style with an interesting backstory. You’ll see that all lager is not yellow in color, and can vary tremendously in flavor. Finaly, we’ll demonstrate why the very thought of making certain lager styles leaves some brewers quaking in their funny little rubber boots.
Oh, and if this move left a hole in your schedule for the 11th, you could do a lot worse than coming down to Lovin’ Cup and joining us with a beer and a song.
Does beer style matter to you? Is it important to segment beer into styles?
“Of course it matters you moron,” you’re saying. “style is how we define our tastes.” On a macro level, and in an old-world sense, that’s true. You want to know which bottle is the IPA and which is the Dunkel-Weizen. Also, a style name evokes a certain set of expected flavor characteristics.
Style is also vital to determine how close the beer inside the bottle relates to the label stuck on the glass. If you know a style’s parameters, you can tell with your senses whether a brewer was, say, actually trying to make a Pilsner or just lying to the consumer and taking the style name in vain.
Thing is, with a vastly more beer-educated consuming public, style means increasingly less in therms of enjoyment.
For one thing, some styles are so similar to each other that the demarcation between them is unclear (well, to anyone who doesn’t pore over the BJCP guidelines by candlelight). It’s difficult to distinguish many stout variants from porter, and many pale ales from IPA, but when pint is in hand, the number of people whochose to obsess about that delineation instead of taking a big, healthy quaff of cool deliciousness is small.
These days, many American beers blur those style guidelines completely. What style is a Dogfish Head Palo Santo? The relentless experimentation by indie brewers results in beer descriptions that bring to mind that weird friend of yours describing the sound of his band: “It’s kinda like punk-meets-Tibetan Nose Singing-Meets Klezmer.” This approach leads to the creation of new styles, categories like “Belgian IPA,” that spring up to serve perhaps only a handful of beers.
Fixation with style can also be limiting. If you know you love IPAs, and never order a brew without those three initials on the tap handle, you miss out on the beers just outside that flavor profile, and your tastes never mature. You’re like that infuriating kid I had to sit across from at dinner on Thanksgiving, who had a whole range of delicious foods in front of him, but kept insisting that, even though he’d never tried them, he didn’t like them and ONLY LIKED hot dogs. The little shit.
Ahem. Anyway, style is important. That’s how we wind our way through beer history and track the evolution of our favorite beverage. But just like one doesn’t fret over whether a book is a biography or a travelogue, beyond the sense of having to find it on the shelves, most drinkers probably don’t worry about style as much as we beer-obsessed imagine them to. It’s a good thing; there’s the potential for a fresh, new experience in every glass.
