A few links to get you to Happy Hour.

- The first is to my own post about Flying Dog Kerberos, because it’s a tripel and those are the sorts of beers Brew Like a Monk is about. Flying Dog recently shipped bloggers a package with the new beer plus others in the Canis Major Series (since they’ll be available in a mixed 4-pack) and World Beer Cup medaling beers so you might want to look for varying opinions at rsbs (just search for Kerberos).

You might call Kerberos a different sort of collaboration. About the time last fall Flying Dog was releasing its Open Source Doppelbock brewers in Denver — this was before operations moved to Maryland — began making test batches of Kerberos. The doppelbock recipe was based on input from Internet visitors and tweaked through the discussion. For the Kerberos, each brewer came up with a recipe that was brewed on the pilot system. The final recipe came from that.

- The Champagne of Blogs has a wonderful recap of FredFest — photos, facts and just plain good reading.

- The Sun, the UK’s largest tabloid, is getting into the beer business, including a cask ale under the Sun brand. Rupert Murdoch and real ale should scare us a little.

Pete Brown has questions.

Will it be shit beer because most things The Sun does tend to be lowest common denominator? Or given that what they do, they do well (Sun journalism is actually very skilful), will they produce something that’s accessible, but decent quality?

He’s even created a poll.

Tired of hearing about trading up? How about a little trading down?

This from the Association Press:

Cash-strapped drinkers are starting to trade down to economy beers, the chief executive of Miller Brewing Co. said Thursday.

The Milwaukee-based brewer saw some shift between higher-priced, premium beers and economy beers such as Miller High Life and Milwaukee’s Best starting in January, Tom Long told reporters on a conference call.

“We think it’s primarily driven by decline of disposable income and pocket money that American consumers are feeling right now,” he said.

Mr. Long said the volume of beers sold remains stable, but the company expects to sell more lower-priced beers this year if gas prices continue to rise.

Look closely. This is a discussion about drinkers already wed to industrial lagers moving from one price level to another. Also, if you read on in the story you’ll see that Milwaukee Best sales were down. Doesn’t that present a contradiction?

Brewers of more expensive beers face plenty of challenges between rising ingredients prices and an economic slowdown, and maybe beer drinkers will opt for less expensive beers, but has anybody seen that yet?

I’m not going to tell you that Shiner Bock is my favorite beer or even that it is a bock. I think it deserves better than it gets at the ratings sites (2.6/5 at Rate Beer and C+ at Beer Advocate), but we don’t seek it out when eating smoked meat in Texas. Just as a f’rinstance.

But I like some of the beers more — the Shiner 99 is a pretty nice Helles, at least if you have it fresh, as I did — and that this little brewery with a certain amount of German heritage and Texas terroir will soon celebrate 100 years of business.

Now they’ve produced this commercial that gives us one more reason to appreciate the old fashioned Western saloon.

Pencil us in for a visit on their 100th anniversary.

Those are Michigan hops on the right.

How can I tell? It’s a trick. I shot the picture in 1995 when we were on our way to visit Kalamazoo Brewing, as it was known then, and talk with founder Larry Bell for a story Daria was writing for Brew magazine. We stopped at a roadside farm stand, chatted with the woman selling produce from her farm and she mentioned she was also grew hops for Bell.

Not enough for even a decent size batch of beer, but that wasn’t the point. A few years later Bell bought some six-row barley — you know, the stuff America’s largest breweries use — grown on Michigan’s “Thumb” to brew a batch of Homegrown Ale.

So a recent transaction seems perfectly consistent. “I’m becoming a farmer,” he told the Kalamazoo Gazette after signing a $400,000 sales agreement with a farmer near Mount Pleasant who will grow two-row barley for Bell’s Brewery, as its known these days.

A subsidiary of Bell’s Brewery Inc., called Bell’s Brewery Farms LLC, purchased an 80-acre farm in Shephard. Bell said that land is being prepared to grow soy beans as part of a regular crop rotation. That land should produce barley by next year. Turnwald has already used 40 acres of another nearby property to grow barley for Bell’s.

That barley will most likely be used for a new specialty brew, Bell said.

“Our preliminary plan right now … is to introduce a new brand in November and it’s not for sure at this time, but it would be a Christmas ale made with Michigan barley and, partial, Michigan-grown hops,” said Bell.

Isn’t it winemakers who are supposed to be farmers?

Hold your horses, Wired magazine. This headline, “Craft Brewers Reformulate Beer to Cope With Hop Shortage,” might leave the wrong impression.

Think Samuel Adams Boston Lager is being reformulated? Sierra Nevada Pale Ale? Coors Blue Moon White? New Belgium Fat Tire Ale? Deschutes Black Butte Porter? Bell’s Oberon? Etc. Etc. The beers that most people buy, the ones behind year after year after year of spectacular growth, are mostly staying the same. What do you think, 90%, 95% or 99% of them?

OK, there might be small changes — the kind brewers make all the time, tweaks for a variety of reasons, and that drinkers don’t notice.

Instead I see a couple of opportunities. One is for “alternative ingredients” (like brewers haven’t tried pretty much everything in the last several thousand years) that will be a blip in terms of overall sales but get attention.

The other is for hops. All this talk about hops, particularly when it turns into a discussion about hop flavor rather IBU count, well that’s the kind of publicity you can’t buy.

Back to packing.

Next weekend in Washington, D.C., the Brewers Association plans to show that beer belongs at the table with the grownups. OK, maybe that’s not the best analogy – suggesting beer might otherwise be served at the kids’ table won’t go over well in most circles – but you get the point of SAVOR: An American Craft Beer & Food Experience.

And the BA has called on several luminaries from the wine world to help make the case, like Ray Isle from Food & Wine and Lauren Buzzeo of Wine Enthusiast. Fortunately beer people as well, so I’ll pass on pointing out that maybe this looks a bit too much like beer has an inferiority complex.

For the most part attendees won’t hear much argument about whether beer or wine is better.

But that debate seems like a good way to sell the printed word. Exhibit 1: “Grape vs. Grain” by Charles Bamforth. Exhibit 2: “He Said Beer, She Said Wine” by Sam Calagione and Marnie Old. Three and four: Old and Calagione have taken their rivalry to the current issues of All About Beer and Beer magazines.

And a friendly rivalry it is. It started with a series of beer dinners where they’d pair each dish with one beer and one wine and ask dinners to vote for their favorites. They are a very entertaining team, in person and in print, and don’t be fooled if a few of their exchanges look a little adversarial. Although Old is a sommelier and educator and Calagione — you surely know — the founder of Dogfish Head Craft Brewery, in this instance they could both be described as promoters, even sales people.

HSB,SSW is jammed with inviting photos, including 20 each of the protagonists. Both talk about simplifying wine/beer and the editors of the book have set out to help them with easy-to-understand presentations. For instance, charts with objective characteristics for specific beers or wines, then charts with rules of thumb about serving wine or beer with particular dishes.

Bamforth’s approach is decidedly more academic. He is the Chair of the Department of Food Science and Technology and Anheuser-Busch Endowed Professor of Malting and Brewing Sciences at the University of California, Davis. Reading the book feels like attending a college lecture, but one conducted by everybody’s favorite professor. He successfully acts as his own foil, spinning stories that go beyond the chemistry behind beer, such a look at the evolution of the pub.

Yet you remember this is the author of “Standards of Brewing - A Practical Approach to Consistency and Excellence” when he chooses to explain dimethyl sulfide (DMS) — an aroma often described cooked corn — in particular detail in order to illustrate the complexity of brewing.

He’s always the educator, and the book could be characterized as a beer primer from wine drinkers and a wine primer for beer drinkers. He doesn’t hide his own preferences, writing in the preface, “To that extent, and reflecting my professional specialty, the theme of this book is primarily one of demonstrating how beer is a product of an excellence and sophistication to match wine, and I seek to do this by championing beer while being entirely fair to that other noble beverage.”

He’d need to be a little flashier to keep up with Calagione and Old. Consider this from the authors within two pages.

Old: Every culture what has had access to both (beer and wine) has judged wine to be superior — from the ancient Mesopotamians straight through the modern day.

Calagione: “It’s true that beer drinkers may burp more often than wine drinkers, which could seem “uncivilized.” However, I’ve always thought that is because wine drinkers don’t stop yakking about pretentious things like “notes” and “bouquets” for long enough to build up the required internal pressure.”

Old and Calagione will encore their debate to SAVOR on Saturday. Quite honestly, it wouldn’t be fair for Bamforth to act as “referee,” but let’s give him the final word.

“Wine and beer — both wonderful beverages, sublime outcomes of humankind’s oldest agricultural endeavors. They have much to learn from one another.”

Host Thomas Vincent of Geistbear Brewing Blog has announced the theme for The Sessions #16: Beer Festivals.

He writes: “As Summer approaches we are in full swing of beer festival season, so it seemed the perfect topic for the June Session. Do you have a favorite beer festival you like to attend or a particular memory of inspirational moment at a festival? Or perhaps talk about what you would like to see out of festivals or perhaps their future of them. All is fair game, I look forward to seeing where people take this topic.”

It’s easy to participate. He has the details.

Perhaps we should have headed to one of the nearby casinos last night. It takes a certain amount of luck to open seven bottles of Thomas Hardy’s Ale and find them all outstanding. Particularly when the last one is 40 years old.

By the time we got to the 1968 the sun had set on the Sandia Mountains — we drank these beers on our back portal — and the lights had come up in the Rio Grande Valley. We weren’t comparing how each beer looked in the glass or taking notes; instead talking about things friends talk about, although that certainly included the aromas and flavors from the succession of beers.

For the record, they were from 2003 (the first batch brewed at O’Hanlon’s), 1999 (the last batch brewed at Eldridge Pope), 1995, 1994, 1993, 1992 and then the 1968. [See yesterday’s post for details about how we got the 1968.]

Sorry, I don’t have a lot of adjectives for you. Perhaps that’s not in the spirit of blogging, but those are going to stay out there in the cool New Mexico air.

OK, since you guys pitched in with such friendly suggestions about dealing with the cork, just a few details. This was an “A” bottle, with the cork protruding from the top. When I gave it a gentle tug it broke off, leaving nicely solid cork in the neck.

That came out easily and cleanly with a corkscrew, emitting a surprising pop. We briefly discussed the implications — a little something wild going on after 40 years? First impressions included funky, adhesive and sewer water . . . but in a good way.

Within minutes those volatiles had faded. Still a lot going on in the glass, both great and not-so-great.

The best part? It sure as heck was still beer. And it sure as heck had soul.

Doesn’t look the message to wait until July of 1969 is going to be a problem . . .

The time has come to open the 1968 bottle of Thomas Hardy’s Ale.

Daria gave me this bottle for Christmas more than six years ago, and the immediate question was what to do with it. It’s not like there was any reason to expect to be anything other than an experience. Check out Tomme Arthur’s notes from a 2004 tasting:

1968- Was the first year that they bottled Hardy’s. There were three separate bottlings and the series begins with the A Bottle.

1968 A (The Pint Bottle)- A cork finished bottle with noticeable signs of evaporation. Perhaps they trapped a few thirsty angel’s in the bottle when it was packaged? The beer reveals a large Soy Sauce nose with Cidery, Vinegar and Lactic qualities all duking it out in a battle Royale. It finishes smokier than a bar in Chicago with flacid carbonation at best. Color wise, this one leans towards the dark to medium dark spectrum.

1968 “B” Bottling- Upon inspection, this one holds little promise. An incredible (ridiculous) amount of beer is missing. The cork crumbles upon insertion of the cork screw. Not a good sign! The beer embraces this cork situation to the max and I’m soon wondering if can send back a beer I haven’t even paid for? For some reason, this vintage has a Tobasco(tm) like flavors. It’s beyond bizarre. How do you do that in beer? Without a doubt not as good as the “A” bottle.

1968 “C” Bottling Capped Bottle- Now this is classic Hardy’s! We’re greeted by Vinegar, Oxidation and winey notes that wreak of musty cellars in wine country. It’s quite dry and light bodied. Tawny and Orangey in a way that the other two 68’s aren’t. The beer finishes with a clarity of purpose that exudes world class and demands that we hand the tag of red headed step child to its lesser brother- bottling “B.” The 1968 Hardy’s Capped bottle was an all timer for me this afternoon.

And when Daria bought it in an eBay auction the chap in the UK stated up front that he hadn’t treated the beer with the care stated on the back label (which sits on the bottle just as crooked as it looks in the photo above). But it didn’t seem right to set it out on shelf — because I want to look at it, that’s why — with the beer still inside. You’ll notice up top that the beer no longer reaches into the neck.

So I stored it on its side at about 55 F and we talked about what to do next. Daria hit on the idea it would be good to open in 2008, since the beer turns 40 and I turn 60. That was before we planned to be in Belgium on my birthday. And hauling a 40-year-old bottle of beer that’s likely going to suck didn’t seem so appealing.

Thus we’re planning on opening it tomorrow along with six other vintages (we’re expecting help drinking these). Just a few questions to answer first. What order should we drink the beers in? One possibility is to start with the 1968 (figuring it’s beyond hope), then drink the youngest and work our way toward the oldest (1992, and the previous one was excellent).

And how the heck do we safely get the cork out of the bottle?

Travel guides are worthless without trust.

So, you might be thinking, why should we trust a couple of British blokes who showed up for a holiday or two on America’s West Coast and then presumed to write about our beer?

Oh, sure they seem clever, for instance describing American IPAs as “hoppier than a one-legged man in an arse-kicking competition.” And the publisher Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) has outdone itself with a colorful, easy-to-find-what-you-want presentation plus an embarrassment of color photos.

But ultimately here is why you can trust Ben McFarland and Tom Sandham, authors of “Good Beer Guide West Coast USA.”

When I managed a newspaper copy desk the rule repeated every day was, “Readers trust everything they see in the paper until you write something they know about.” So pick up a copy of the book. Turn to a section you know about. Do they write about the best places? Do they leave any out? Are they right about the beers? Do they give you a reason to visit? Yes, no, yes and yes.

Feel free to be skeptical, but the proof is there in black and white. They dropped by the Craft Brewers Festival in San Diego last month to sign books and I sat down to talk with them about how they accomplished this. To be honest, my notes ended up full of “inside baseball” (or cricket) talk — and we weren’t even drinking. You’ll likely find their Q&A at the CAMRA site more amusing.

But some basics. They researched the books in two four-week stretches. The first included Las Vegas and Southern California (then back to Vegas). “We laid down for a week (afterwards),” McFarland said. “I got shingles . . . We were in pieces.”

They came back anyway, flying into Seattle and this time destroying their livers with the beers of the Northwest. They leaned on Tom Dalldorf (of Celebrator Beer News) for Hawaii and Dr. Fermento (James Roberts of the Anchorage Press) for Alaska. Obviously they also received a lot of help on “leads” about where to visit. Quite often they’d be in one pub or brewery and the principals there would ask, “Have you been to …?” and they were off again.

The resulting book doesn’t exhibit the sense of familiarity of one like Jay Shevek’s The Beer Guppy’s Guide to Southern California, but the authors are no less enthusiastic about what comes first — beer. In fact, surprisingly so, writing a love letter to American small-batch brewing that nicely carries on a tradition started by the late Michael Jackson.

And at times you get a glimpse of what the book might have read like had they been able to spend two years instead of two months wandering in and out of breweries and pubs. Writing about Diamond Knot Brewery in Muketilo, Wash., they begin:

“We must have been in here for about 20 minutes before ‘Johnny Vegas’, a Port Townsend ferryman, offered us a place to stay the night. Being British we naturally regarded the gesture with a level of cynicism and, fearing we’d be somehow chopped up and a feature in his wife’s stew, said yes and promptly disappeared. The fact is, he was simply a generous and friendly local and a perfect example of what this bar offers.”

Despite their youth — they are in their early 30s, giving them a fighting chance of surviving their research — both are accomplished journalists. Sandham had edited CLASS, a leading drinks magazine, for five years. McFarland became the youngest ever recipient of the British guild of Beer Writers’ beer Writer of the Year Award in 2004. He won it again in 2006.

And because of their youth they offer a look at American beer through fresh eyes and taste American beer with fresh tongues.