In his new book “How Pleasure Works” author Paul Bloom uses this example of essence in exploring “The New Science of Why We Like What We Like” (the subtitle). Following only the single thread of essential and essentialism through a book full of other topics makes it clear the notion of pleasure is complicated and full of contradictions.

Many of the ideas in the book relate to the pleasure we take from drinking beer, some more directly than others. That certainly includes essence, given that American light lagers became the punch line for so many jokes that begin with the premise the beers no longer contain enough of traditional ingredients to be considered “real.”

Bloom writes that “things have an underlying reality or true nature that one cannot observe directly and it is this hidden nature that really matters.” He also wonders at length about the value we place on originals, compared to copies, and on objects that may contain the essence of others. That could be the work of artisans or it could be a piece of memorabilia, say an autograph. At times it would seem “soul” and “essence” could be used interchangeably.

Although Bloom includes a chapter devoted to food and drink, citing research involving both wine and beer, there’s much a reader must sort out or for him or herself. Pleasure, like flavor or aroma, is not an absolute. If clever advertising or great packaging or a sense the brewer has somehow touched your beer makes it taste better to you then all those things are OK. But you certainly benefit by understanding that before you open your wallet.

Such would be the point of both “The Beer Trials” and “The Wine Trials 2010,” books I suggest reading in tandem. They are both from Fearless Critic Media, with Seamus Campbell and Robin Goldstein writing the former, Goldstein and Alexis Herschkowitsch the latter.

One bit of disclosure. Goldstein passed through New Mexico earlier this month and we had a few beers together (no wine). I bought, he bought, so it’s not like a bribe passed between us. However I do enjoy his company and am inclined to speak well of him. We had a good time even when we had to yell to be heard over “open mic night,” talking about everything from land prices in Bordeaux to his theory that Ray Allen leads the NBA is “swishes.” (Goldstein is a Celtics fans and perhaps he shouldn’t have suggested this, since Allen was about to set a playoff oh-fer record on the TV flickering behind the bar.)

Goldstein is nothing but resolute when he talks about the value of tasting blind, whether it is by a group whose aggregate ratings will provide the recommendations in these book or an individual discovering the one-on-one sensual pleasures a particular beer provides. “The goal of is . . . (for tasters) to learn their own talents, to look past prestigious brand names as a signal,” he said. “They should not make the assumption that spending more will get you a better product.”

Although it may seem that we’ve talked the topics of blind tasting and what should you pay? to death in the beer blogosphere the front matter of each of the books is worth your time. “Beer Trials” also includes a rather extensive introduction to beer, making it as much of a book for beer beginners, and wine drinkers, as it is for those who already know what they think about Goose Island IPA or Ayinger Oktoberfest.

Both books are consumer guides, but a bit different. “The Wine Trials” lists 150 wines that sell for less than $15 and outscored $50-plus wines in blind tastings. “The Beer Trials” provides ratings (in theory from 1 to 10, but in fact from 3 to 9) for 250 beers. Much of the information in the book is available at The Beer Trials website. The result is the books seem to put beer on trial much less than wine, at least high priced wine.

“The wine world is more full of shit than the beer world,” Goldstein said. “There are more myths to be debunked.”

As wine blogger Joe Roberts details, Goldstein has not be shy on the debunking front. “I don’t want to create controversy for the sake of controversy,” he said. “My No. 1 goal is to be truthful.”

“The Wine Trials” merited a second edition, with recommendations based on all new rounds of tasting, and presumably “Beer Trials” will follow a similar path. Right now Fearless Critic is at work on iPhone and Smartphone apps, and Goldstein expects to report on blind tastings on an ongoing basis.

They may reveal far more than which wines or beers a group of panelist prefers. We came back to the topic several times during the evening, talking about the role of culture, about how as well as what people perceive, about when results were and were not statistically significant. Sometimes it seems like a waste of good beer when the conversation turns to the dreary sciences.

Here’s a short description of one of the experiments detailed in “The Beer Trials.” The key players are three pale lagers (Czechvar, Stella Artois and Heineken) and 138 beer drinkers in Portland, Oregon. The experiment was a triangle test, where participants are giving three samples, two of which are the same, then are asked if they can pick the one that is different. Portland tasters performed no better than chance in identifying the outlier.

However, in a similar experiment in Germany, Bavarian university students successfully differentiated between pale lagers of the region. Feel free to discuss among yourselves if this might have been because there is a distinct difference between the helles beers from Augustiner, Paulaner and Spaten or if the students’ palates are better trained.

Instead consider the experiments that could follow. What if you handed the drinkers at the Green Dragon pub in Portland three IPAs of the region? Would they be able to tell the difference then? What if you shipped those same beers to Germany? Would the massive quantities of Northwest hops simply cause the Bavarians’ heads to explode?

Those are relatively simple. Consider a tasting where drinkers sample a beer with a particular characteristic (flavor from German hops, hop bitterness, smoked malt, amount of cherry juice, the options are endless) and rate the intensity of that characteristic. Repeat once a month for six months, boosting the amount of ingredients each month. At the end of six months serve a beer made from original recipe. Will the panelist find it less intense than originally?

I could be dangerous with a tasting panel and a few generous brewers doing my bidding.

The results of group blind tastings and tasting blind by ourselves both help us understand our own palates. In their chapter titled “beer goggles” Campbell and Goldstein write, “Although extrinsic factors can enhance pleasure—there’s no reason to brown-bag your beer at dinner—we believe that extrinsic factors should be removed from the objective assessment and judgment of beer. Unless beer is judged blind, it’s impossible to tell which of its pleasure come from the physical properties of the drink, and which come from one’s associations with the brand.”

Goldstein knows it doesn’t end there. For instance, even tasting blind certain flavors signal that a beer should cost more.

And you don’t have to see a label to recognize a favorite beer. Our aroma memories are hard-wired and among the strongest we experience. Let’s say a friend manages a triangle tasting for you, starting with the premise only that the three beers will be a similar style. He serves them in opaque mugs, eliminating one clue about what they might be.

Yet you recognize one with the first whiff. Maybe it takes you to the hilltop beer garden at the Andechs Monastery, to the bar where you picked up your future wife, to wherever you were when you last had a beer with your dad. Part of the essence of this particular beer belongs only to you. You smile.

Is the magic in the memory? Is the magic in the glass? Pleasure is complicated.

Last week in the responses to my “The business of beer” post I started a quick exchange with Alan McLeod. I made a reference to a Beer Advocate thread I didn’t have a link to at the time and Alan asked another question I started to answer off the top of my head before I decided collecting a few more facts seemed in order.

As a result I’ve got a mess on my hands. I still don’t really have a definitive answer to to Alan’s questions/statements because it likely doesn’t exists.

So here are the facts. Do with them what you want. (I have an opinion, expressed at the finish).

This began with a fair enough question at Beer Advocate about if Old Rasputin XII from North Coast Brewing — a version of its popular Russian Imperial Stout aged in bourbon barrels — is worth $22 for a half liter bottle, and the responses were interesting if at times curious. I was struck by the logic in a couple of them:

Old Rasputin is a relative bargain in the world of imp. stouts. That makes the pricing of the BA version all the more aggravating. $22 for 500ml?

And . . .

The pricing always left me scratching my head. I understand BA beers cost more to make but you’re talking one of the cheapest RISs out there thrown into some barrels. I know there are cheaper BA RISs where the original version is twice as much as Rasputin.

(Translations: BA means barrel aged and RIS means Russian Imperial Stout.)

Thus I asked: So to justify a higher price for the bourbon barrel should they raise the price of the regular version ($8.99 a 4-pack in our parts, and one great beer bargain)? And Alan responded.

I sent off an email to Mark Ruedrich, one of the founders of North Coast and the brewmaster who wrote the recipe for Old Rasputin, to confirm a few facts (learned when we were in Fort Bragg in June; recently emptied barrels are pictured at the top of this post) and get a little more detail.

- North Coast sold Old Rasputin X and XI only at the brewery and brewpub in Fort Bragg, California (they are across the street from each other). We bought the XI in June for $12.95. We wish we had more.

- This year the brewery packaged Rasputin XII for larger distribution, a little over 2,000 cases (12 bottles a case). They sold out in advance to distributors and not every market North Coast ships to received the beer.

- Distributors will mark up the beer 28 to 32 percent before selling it to retailers, and retailers will mark that up another 30 to 35 percent. Special beers, like Old Rasputin XII tend to get marked up more. Take the middle of both those ranges and you’ll see a bottle of beer delivered to a distributor (which isn’t cheap when the bottle starts in Fort Bragg) for $10 would cost you $17.29 (more likely $16.99 or $17.99). Who’s making the real profit along the way?

- Now as to the difference in price between the “regular” Old Rasputin and one in barrels. Barrels, which hold around 53 gallons, cost $125 and more. They don’t add as much to the price as the fact that California charges $3.30 per gallon tax on the barrel aged beers (same rate as distilled spirits rate) compared to 20 cents per gallon for beer. Still my math indicates barrels and taxes add less than 75 cents to the cost of a half liter. The real expense is how inefficient and labor intensive small-run batches are.

- What’s changed is that if you really wanted to drink Old Rasputin X or XI you had to travel to Fort Bragg (or find somebody to buy you a bottle or three and ship them, only somewhat illegally) and pay $12.95. Today if you live in the right place you can buy it for $5 to $9 more, depending on the largesse of your local distributor and retailer.

Should you? That was the very fair question asked in the Beer Advocate thread. And one you are going to answer yourself.

So we’re back at the beginning, and what follows is opinion.

As I began typing this Ron Pattison wrote, “I don’t want innovative beer. I want tasty, refreshing beer. Beer I want to drink more than a mouthful of. Beer that’s a joy to drink rather than an exercise in endurance.”

I don’t know why a beer can’t be both innovative and tasty, but I appreciate the point he is making. However some people do want the new, new thing (although I’m not sure that 14 years after Goose Island brought Bourbon County Stout to the Great American Beer Festival for the first time that bourbon-barrel beers count at innovative) no matter what.

In this case I don’t think that North Coast is simply taking advantage of that fact. The brewers wanted to do something special for Old Rasputin’s 10th anniversary and priced it accordingly. Ruedrich wanted to package it in a substantial and expensive bottle finished with a cork and cage. As you read earlier, Alan believes such presentation fakes “the price up to create exclusivity.” Sorry, I love the heft of this particular bottle. It adds to my drinking pleasure.

Bottom line, despite the length and detail in this post, North Coast isn’t obligated to provide an explanation for why Rasputin XII costs what it does. After 21 years in business they’ve proved they are pretty good at delivering value (which is why last week construction workers were pouring footings for the new fermenters). Likewise, consumers aren’t obligated to pay $18 or $22 for any bottle of beer.

That’s agriculture or you. As I wrote in 2007 there’s nothing new about wild swings in the price of hops. But now I have a new source (Hop Culture in California from 1900) to quote:

The price of hops on the Pacific Coast has ranged all the way from 5 cents to $1.10 per pound, which amply illustrates the extreme variability and uncertainty on the business side of hop culture.

At 12 cents or less per pound, hop production involves a loss. At 15 to 20 cents, the grower can make a fair living and may get something ahead. it is the wide fluctuations in price that have caused so many failures in the business of hop culture. The price of $1.10 per pound in 1882 proved a calamity to the legitimate grower. It led many to embrace in the business with dreams of sudden wealth. Disaster to nearly all was the natural result.

Back to the present in Washington:

Brenton Roy, president of Oasis Farms northeast of Prosser, said this year’s crop was “100 percent contract,” which meant any surplus hops would be left in the field. Roy estimated he left about 4 percent of his crop on the vine.

“For us it’s not going to have a large impact, but I’m sure for some growers it will,” he said.

Roy expects this year’s overabundant crop to enlarge the hops surplus, which he said will lead to a decrease in contracts.

Roy said he thinks Washington’s hops acreage will have to decrease by about 5,000 acres for supply and demand to balance.

And in Oregon:

“The only time I’ve heard of hops left hanging was back when powdery mildew hit so hard that some yards weren’t worth picking,” says John Annen of Annen Brothers Farms and chairman of the Oregon Hop Commission. “But never industrywide — these are perfectly good hops unpicked because there’s no warehouse space and no spot market for uncontracted hops.”

Barley prices, for malt, also have come off their highs, but declining costs prices for two key beer ingredients won’t translate into prices on the shelves. “Pubs and breweries face all sorts of increased costs, from stainless steel brewing vessels to employee health care, freight and fuel costs, and hops are perhaps the smallest part,” John Foyston writes at OregonLive. “Plus, most brewers contracted for their hops for years ahead during the shortage, and those contract prices will be higher than 2009 spot-market prices.”

For a bit of perspective, the $1.10 peak in hops prices in 1882 would amount to a little over $24 today. In 1900, pickers made 60 cents to $1.10 pounds of green hops, the average being about 75 cents ($19 today). A hop drier earned $2.50 to $5 (almost $128) per day and board. Field foremen were paid $1.50 to $2 per day and board, so hop drying was a premium skill.

- The held the Iron City Brewing auction Friday and yesterday in Pittsburgh.

- Granted Equity For Punks might be important to the future of BrewDog, has led to considerable discussion about the value of the company, and certainly reminds us that no matter how much fun brewers appears to be having they are involved in serious business.

But Pete Brown points out that there’s investing and there’s something else:

But that’s not the point. I doubt Brew Dog will sell all 10,000 shares, but the people who are buying are buying something more than a 0.0009% stake in the most exciting brewery in the UK. The people buying are people who don’t normally buy shares. They’re buying this share because they want to align themselves with something interesting and iconoclastic, to be part of an adventure. Think of it less as a share, more like a T-shirt or badge saying “I’m one of these cool, interesting people who’s part of this cool, interesting thing.”

BrewDog has priced those shares at £230, which right now equates to $375.

- If you are watching the second NFL game of a doubleheader today (or about any other televised sporting event that ends as afternoon turns into evening east of the Mississippi) you might hear the announcers say to stayed tuned for something upcoming immediately (or maybe local news will be thrown in) “except on the West Coast.” In fact, that’s “except on the West Coast and in the Mountain Time Zone.” But because, according to Google answers, little more than 5% of the voting population lives in the Mountain Time Zone we remain pretty invisible. That’s OK; we don’t want anybody else living here.

Still, it made me smile to get the press release from Odell Brewing about a new beer called Mountain Standard. It’s made with Cascade and Chinook hops grown on Colorado’s Western Slope.

“We’ve experimented with locally grown hops for smaller batches brewed on our pilot system, but haven’t been able to find enough hops to extend the beer beyond our tap room,” Brendan McGivney, head of production, said for the press release. “This year we sourced 400 pounds of hops from the Rising Sun Farms in Paonia, Colorado. We plan to brew one batch every year with each harvest.”

Bottled in 750 ml cork and cage finish bottles, Mountain Standard joins Bourbon Barrel Stout and India Barleywine as part of a new line of single serve offerings. The beer will retail for $14.99 to $15.99 per bottle, and is available in the brewery’s eight state distributor region (90% of which lies in the Mountain Time Zone).

On Nov. 2, the day after daylight savings time officially ends, Odell Brewing will celebrate the return of Mountain Standard Time with an un-corking celebration at the brewery’s tap room in Fort Collins.

- “10 worst dining trends of the last decade,” from the Chicago Tribune. Pretty pictures.

From the first Portland Beer Price Index posted by It’s Pub Night.

The plan is to do this quarterly. Wouldn’t you like to see one of these for every city, or at least every region?

I’m not sure why I added It’s Pub Night to my rss subscriptions — either via Twitter or Beervana — but it was a lucky addition indeed.

Blame the weak dollar, among other things.

Although the story is very well done, it contains one line that gets repeated too often: “the Trappist monks who oversee Chimay do not produce and sell beer for profit.” Yes, they do. But they don’t spend the profits on wine, women and song. These figures are from Brew Like a Monk so aren’t totally up to date, but you’ll get the point:

Including the brewery, bottling plant, and marketing, eighty-two people work for Bières de Chimay. Chimay began producing cheese in 1876, bathing the rind of one in beer, and now sells Chimay cheeses in many countries. Overall, Chimay employs more than one hundred and fifty people, making it one of the biggest employers in one of Belgium’s poorest regions. A part of the profits from brewing and cheese production go to help or build other Cistercian monasteries, with the rest dedicated to various projects in the area of Chimay.

If the monks weren’t turning a profit then there wouldn’t be much point in brewing.

This was so long ago that there was no reason for Prial to call New Albion a microbrewery, a craft brewery or a boutique brewery. Simply a brewery that made “what may be one of the country’s best beers.”

And . . . “At 95 cents to $1.05 per bottle, including deposit, it may well be the most expensive domestic beer sold.”

So let’s call it a buck for a 10-ounce bottle. Taking inflation into account that works out to 31 cents per ounce in 2009 dollars and cents. Or $3.72 for a 12-ounce bottle, $22.32 for a six-pack of those, and $7.84 for a 750ml bottle. Just so you know.

Is this news?

Here are excerpts from the Brewers Association press release:

On Saturday, May 30, over 1,900 attendees enjoyed craft beer and food pairings from 68 craft breweries at the sold-out SAVOR: An American Craft Beer & Food Experience at the National Building Museum in Washington, D.C. A post-event survey conducted by the Brewers Association finds that demand for quality beer remains high despite the economy. An overwhelming 91.4 percent of surveyed attendees said the economy has not affected the quality of beer they purchase. In addition, 98.8 percent of respondents cite “high quality” as their main priority when purchasing beer, as opposed to “low price” or “brand recognition.”

When it comes to spending habits, over half (54.9 percent) of surveyed SAVOR attendees said they spend more than $50 per month on beer, while 36.6 percent spend between $25 and $50 and only 8.6 percent spend less than $25 per month. And contrary to popular belief, many beer lovers enjoy other fermented beverages as well. Nearly half of respondents (46.9 percent) claimed to look outside the beer glass and consider themselves to be cross drinkers (enjoying a combination of beer, wine and/or liquor), while 51.6 percent identify themselves as beer lovers exclusively.

Survey Methodology: The Brewers Association survey of SAVOR: An American Craft Beer & Food Experience attendees took place online from June 1-2, 2009, with data derived from 257 respondents.

I find the idea that this survey of people who paid $95 to attend SAVOR (ticket details) was conducted and that the results might have meaning so strange I can’t think of anything flip to write.

I’m too distracted to jump into this other than to suggest . . .

Chatter about why it costs $43 (or $30 or whatever) is noise. The why is relevant only in context.

Instead, here’s the bottom line. If a beer is worth $43 then consumers will buy it. Those at other breweries will notice and if they can conjure up a beer somewhat similar and as good for $42 or $38 or $2.50 then they will do that.

During the discussion portion of Beer Wars Live Greg Koch pointed out that Stone Brewing’s Arrogant Bastard Ale is the nation’s top-selling craft 22-ounce package. How’s that for a target? If Anheuser-Busch could brew that beer for less wouldn’t they? So to the line I’ve heard so often: “The big brewers could brew whatever they want if they chose to” I say “Poppycock.” I’m of the opinion they can’t brew the beer at any price. It’s not in their DNA.

I’ve begun to digress. Back to the point. I’m willing to pay “more” for the beers we want to drink. I don’t expect brewers to sell beers for less they they cost (and I understand all the costs) to brew. But I don’t buy beers based on what they cost to make. I buy them based on the experience they deliver.

The blogs involved:
- Brewed for Thought.
- BetterBeerBlog.

Last night we sampled a variety of smoked meat at Cooper’s Old Time Pit Barbecue in Llano, Texas. What makes barbecue different in Llano is that pitmasters burn their mesquite down to coals before stoking the pits — then cook it directly over the coals, “cowboy style.” Well, maybe. It seems there’s some question about how Cooper’s really cooks food for us, but I’ll leave the barbecue exposes to others. Point it is that we had a dang fine meal, and if you say Texas barbecue to me, I think “smoke.”

And if you say Bamberg and beer and I think “smoke.” So for today’s Session I’ve picked Schlenkerla Rauchbier Weizen, not as smoky as Schlenkerla Rauchbier Märzen or Urbock, but a reminder that Schlenkerla beers are first of all about smoke.

When I was in Bamberg in December it had not been long since Matthias Trum, who in charge of operations at Schlenkerla and is pictured on the left, attended a beer festival in Copenhagen with friends. He said he knew he was near the smoked beer section before he even saw a sign. “I could smell them (smoked beers) from 15 meters way,” Trum said. “It was a homey smell.”

Of course his home isn’t quite like ours. As five generations of Trums before him, he lives above the famous tavern. And he oversees daily operations at the Heller Bräu brewery up the hill, which smokes its own malt for the Schlenkerla beers. The recipe for Rauchbier Märzen calls for 100 percent smoked malt. That’s 50 percent to 90 percent more than most breweries use.

Schlenkerla brews the Weizen with 50 percent of the malt it smokes over beechwood and 50 percent (unsmoked) wheat malt. In contrast, Spezial Weizen — Spezial is the other Bamberg brewery that still smokes its own malt — contains 12 percent smoked malt.

In their book “Smoked Beers” authors Ray Daniels and Geoff Larson write that Schlenkerla Weizen doesn’t leave a particularly strong impression of smoke. Trum agrees. “It starts to fade after a few sips,” he said. I took another and told him I wasn’t quite as sure. “Two or three glasses,” he answered. “That’s what Franconians call a couple of sips.”

The first aroma is clearly smoke, not quite like from a campfire but also different than the barbecue pits we’ve been hanging around recently, fired by mesquite, oak, hickory or pecan. Soon traditional a fruity-banana notes of hefeweizen also appear, followed by spicy clove character. Smoke and banana flavors blend on the tongue, balanced by more cloves. After a few sips, I must admit, the scales tip toward the weizen flavors.

Sure wish they sold this beer at Cooper’s.