Call me irresponsible – I drink ‘craft’ beer

If you are . . .

– 105% more likely than the average person to drive hybrid cars
– 77% more likely to own Apple Mac laptops
– 65% more likely to purchase five pairs or more of sneakers every year
– and 32% more likely to not be registered voters.

Then you are probably a Blue Moon drinker.

I’m not making this up. It’s all in an Advertising Age article headlined “What Your Taste in Beer Says About You,” reporting research by Mindset Media. Of course any story in which the “the concept of beer-as-window-to-the-soul . . . (is based on) psychographics” is required by law to be silly.

What kind of beer do these guys drink?Let’s go straight to the stereotypes: Budweiser drinkers are 42% more likely to drive a truck than the average person and Blue Moon drinkers drive hybrids. Corona drinkers are 38% more likely to own three or more flat-screen TVs and Michelob Ultra drinkers are 34% more likely to buy life insurance.

As you might have already guessed I’m a psychographics skeptic; so much so that I didn’t believe in it even before it was invented. But why let that get in the way of a little fun? Consider this:

[xxxxx] are socially liberal and usually quite willing to go against convention. They really hate moral authorities, and believe children should be exposed to moral dilemmas and allowed to come to their own conclusions. They can also be sarcastic and snide in order to get a point across.

“Blue Moonies” or “craft” beer drinkers?

The former. Real “craft” beer drinkers are lumped together into one category that does not include Blue Moon drinkers.

This group is more likely to spend time thinking about beer rather than work. They are more open-minded than most people, seek out interesting and varied experiences and are intellectually curious. Craft-beer drinkers also skew as having a lower sense of responsibility—they don’t stress about missed deadlines and tend to be happy-go-lucky about life.

Craft-beer lovers are 153% more likely to always buy organic, 52% more likely to be fans of the show “The Office” and 36% more likely to be the ones to choose the movie they are going to see at the theater.

Like looking in a mirror, right?

 

Weekend beer reading: Why the big bottles?

A few links for your weekend beer reading pleasure:

– Shouldn’t stronger beers be sold in smaller bottles? I understand all the reasons why they aren’t, but Don Russell’s discourse on big beer bottles had me asking myself that question.

– You’ll want to put your thinking cap on before considering the questions Alan has, starting with What Is Actually The Enemy Of Good Beer? Give them some thought and leave him a comment.

– Nice that the Houston Chronicle wrote about Saint Arnold’s new downtown brewery. Nicer still that 51 people took the time to comment.

– When trends collide. Alexander D. Mitchell IV relays the news that a) the Baltimore Sun is retiring the “Kasper on Tap” beer blog because “did not attract a large enough audience to sustain it” and b) the Washington Post has made Greg Kitsock’s beer column a monthly status rather than biweekly feature.

Given the recent apparent success of Baltimore Beer Week and the fact that more newspapers around the country regularly feature beer stories this seems a little curious. In Texas, which has been as hard a place for small-scale breweries to get a foothold as anywhere, 51 readers comment on a story about Saint Arnold. In The D.C. area, an early bastion for better beer, the newspapers can’t figure out how to talk with beer drinkers. This is another reminder that newspapers are in disarray.

 

Book review: The beerbistro Cookbook

The beerbistro Cookbook

Let’s start out with what’s wrong with The beerbistro Cookbook. It’s too dang pretty to risk taking into the kitchen to refer to. This book is pure food and beer porn.

Before moving on to what’s right about the book I must offer a longer than usual disclaimer. Co-author Stephen Beaumont is a long-time friend of our family (I even know his secret hotmail address). He links to this site and has written nice things about Brew Like a Monk. Likewise I occasionally link to his.

The beerbistro CookbookDuring our family’s lengthy travels we happened to be in Toronto the day after Daria’s birthday. She decided, with absolutely no coaching, she’d like to celebrate at beerbistro. Because our timing was terrible we had picked a time that Stephen, who helped start the restaurant as well as co-authoring the cookbook, was in New Orleans. However he did alert co-author Brian Morin, the chef and driving forcing behind the bistro, we’d be in town.

After we’d ordered our first beers (I started with the local King Pilsner, at Stephen’s emailed suggestion) Brian surprised us by showing up at the table to chat. We talked about beer, about cooking with beer, about the local food markets and his shopping trip earlier in the day, and similar topics. Sierra, our daughter, was totally taken with Brian. She was doubly taken by the Cheese and Lager Fondue. She is triply taken with the cookbook. So although Stephen and I are good enough friends I’d be comfortable enough criticizing the book I know better than to cross a starry-eyed 12-year-old.

Which takes us to the first good thing about the book. These are recipes Sierra and I can make, written to include ingredients you can find. Brian is big on local and fresh but also sensible. After one more bit of food porn a few more positives:

The beerbistro Cookbook

– Your friends will enjoy the primer. You may not need to read about beer’s history, beer styles, how to pour a beer or even beer at the able again. But these remain foreign concepts on much of our continent. Also be advised you don’t want to glaze over what seems familiar. The beer and cheese primer toward the end is exceptional.

– Beer in the kitchen. It starts with a philosophy about all ingredients, one of which happens to be beer.

– Beer Styles à la beerbistro. Twelve basic categories “recommended as an accompaniment to the recipes or, in many cases, as a descriptor of the beer called for in the recipe.” Thus the styles become quenching, sociable and soothing. Or spicy: “Well-rounded ales with a natural spiciness, either from fermentation or spice addition or both. Look for Belgian or Belgian-style strong blonde ales, such as La Find du Monde and Westmalle Trpel, and complex North American spiced ales, such as Dogfish Head Midas Touch and AleSmith Grand Cru.”

– The recipes. Including more with mussels than even a Belgian could imagine.

– The recipe for Rochefort 8, chocolate, and chocolate chip ice cream. Best dessert I had in 14 months on the road. I’m not one inclined to do anything with Rochefort 8 other than put it in a glass and drink it, but there’s no pain in parting with three bottles to make six cups of this ice cream.

Sierra gets the last word, and she actually has a question that amounts to a bit of criticism: Where’s the fondue recipe? But she can forgive that omission. Leaving out the recipe for beerbistro’s Belgian-Style Frites . . . that would be unforgivable.

 

There is no ‘I’ in sugar

Excuse this crabby little rant, but I’ve started reading The Naked Pint: An Unadulterated Guide to Craft Beer and the author’s repeat a misstatement I’ve come across several times in just the past week, writing Belgian brewers often use “candi sugar.”

No the don’t. They mostly use what we call plain old sugar.

Yes, there are historical references to “candi sugar” and a few brewers use a product called by various names that include “candy” but they are not at all like the rocklike hunks sold as “candi sugar” in the United States.

Nope, when you taste a brooding beer like Nostradamus from Caracole that’s barley malt and about 15 percent sucrose. I’ve been to the brewery. I’ve seen the big sacks of sugar. They look a lot like the bags of plain white sugar at Westvleteren (which also uses a dark syrup). The whole sugar/syrup thing can get a little dense, so since rather than clutter this space I’ve posted a sugar primer at Brew Like a Monk.

So back to my rant. This matters because:

– What makes Trappist ales and beers they inspired special is not a secret or special ingredient.
– The brewers add sugar for a practical reason — not because of any flavor the sugar might contribute — to boost the level of alcohol yet deliver a beer that isn’t sweet or cloying. Put in positive terms the beer should be “digestible.”
– It’s an adjunct. And that’s not bad.

Phil Markowski, author of Farmhouse Ales: Culture and Craftsmanship in the Belgian Tradition an brewmaster at Southampton Publick House, puts it better than I:

“I believe that there is still a fairly prevalent anti-adjunct bias among many American brewers, both amateur and professional, that makes them hold back from using enough sugar to achieve the same level of dryness that the classic Belgian examples exhibit. It seems that many of these brewers tend to think of adjuncts as ‘dishonest’ ingredients.”

They’re not, so let’s call them what they are.

And now there are too many hops?

HopsThe OregonLive headline tells you pretty much all you need to know: Glut of hops unlikely to lower beer prices. This follows a story in Washngton’s Tri-City Herald earlier in the month: Abundant hops harvest is bittersweet.

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.