Words to describe the beer you are tasting

More adjectives: 107 words to describe hop aroma and flavor.

Until robots take over our tasting world we’re left to consider how to communicate the aromas and flavors we experience with beer.

A review of “Perfumes: The Guide” in the current New Yorker magazine makes that point.

The words and the references are really useful only to people who have had the same experiences and use the same vocabulary: those references are to a shared basis of sensory experience and a shared language. To people who haven’t had those shared experiences, this way of talking can seem like horse manure, and not in a good way.

The book was written by Tania Sanchez and Luca Turin, and since Turin was the protagonist in the delightful book “Emperor of Scent” five years ago it gives me an excuse to quote this vaguely relevant passage:

“Look at beer, which is a very interesting cultural product. Beer smells like a burp. Gasses from someone’s stomach. Lovely. Again a product of fermentation, which is to say decay. Decay enhances smells and flavors, yet we have a sharp ability to identify decay, because decaying things will kill you. Bacterial and yeast decomposition.

“Which can give you ‘I wouldn’t touch that in a million years’ and, at the same time and in the same culture, mind you, ‘I will pay great sums to consumer Rodenbach,’ which is a miracle of a beer from Belgium. A miraculous, powdery apple flavor. Those Rodenbach yeast have an I.Q. of at least two hundred. Fucking genius yeast.”

Returning to the point. A shared tasting vocabulary serves a certain purpose. So I pass this along to do with as you please. It comes from the Merchant du Vin newsletter.

1. Words to describe malt flavors: Malty, biscuity, breadlike, grainy, rich, deep, roasty, cereal, cookie-like, coffeeish, caramelly, toffee-like, molasses-like, malt complexity, smoky, sweet, autumnal, burnt cream, scalded milk, oatmeal, rustic, layered.

2. Words to describe hop flavor and bitterness: Piney, citrusy, grapefruity, earthy, musty, spicy, sharp, bright, fresh, herbal, zippy, lemony, newly-mown lawn, aromatic, floral, springlike, brilliant, sprucelike, juniper-like, minty, pungent, elegant, grassy.

3. Words to describe fermentation flavors deriving from yeast: Fresh-baked bread, clovelike, bubblegum, yeasty, Belgiany, aromatic, tropical, subtle, fruity, clean, banana-like (and for some sour or extreme beers) horseblankety, earthy, musty.

4. Words to describe conditioning (carbonation): Soft, effervescent, spritzy, sparkling, zippy, pinpoint, bubbly, gentle, low carbonation, highly carbonated.

5. Words to describe body & mouthfeel: Rich, full, light, slick, creamy, oily, heavy, velvety, sweet, dry, thick, thin.

6. Words to describe warm ethanol (alcohol) flavors from strong beer: Warm finish, heat, vodka, esters, pungent, strength.

E-tongues & e-noses; Are e-hops next?

The Washington Post reports a Japanese consortium hasy released a Health and Food Advice Robot that can distinguish among 30 kinds of wine, as well as various cheeses and breads, and “has the irritating capacity to warn its owner against poor eating habits.”

The expert taster sat silently in the brightly lighted room, surrounded by 53 samples of ruby-red wine.

Fifty-three sniffs and 53 sips later, the judgment was in: a hint of black cherry . . . some acid . . . a floral nose. Every one of the wines, the taster reported, was an Italian Barbera, and all were made from exactly the same variety of grape.

But there was more. The grapes used for 23 of the bottles were grown in one region of northern Italy, the expert asserted, while those in the other 30 bottles came from a different region – a region, it turns out, just 60 miles from the first and featuring only minor differences in soil and sunlight.

I’m wondering how this robot might do next month at the World Beer Cup, given that the judges have 2,931 beers to evaluate in two days.

And what do you call a robot who is a hop head?

Monday morning musing: When is Orval best?

OrvalFollowing up on the notion put forth last week by Ron Jeffries about “beer moments” and echoed by Andrew Mason take a look at Lew Bryson’s post about “discovering” Orval.

This particular Orval was just five weeks past bottling (at the monastery pictured to the right). Given that Orval undergoes refermentation in the bottle it might have tasted different two days later, surely would have two weeks later . . . and then realize this is a beer that people lay down like wine, eventually hauling out bottles they may have cellared for many years.

The moment Orval is at it best not only differs from bottle to bottle, but depends upon the drinker. For Lew, the revelation was a quite young bottle.

A couple of years ago I asked brewers just back from the “Extreme Brewing” trip Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head led to Belgium to suggest beers that a newcomer to more assertive beers might try. Vinnie Cilurzo of Russian River Brewing had this answer:

“At first glance it might seem to extreme for a beginner, but, here is my thinking: When the beer is young there is little Brettanomyces (wild yeast) character, yet lots of hops. In my mind, the hops are more complex than your typical American IPA or Double IPA. As the beer ages, the Brettanomyces comes forth and melds with the hops. Over time, the Brett can come and go.

“I was amazed when we tasted several vintages of Orval. The two-year old Orval was so full of Brett. At five years the Brett had diminished, yet at seven years it was even more bright than the two-year old. This is what I like about Orval; it is a beer that can age. Orval can age with the best of wines. Orval elevates beer to a level of wine in that it can age, and change, and be a different beer. In a way that is what we are trying to do with a lot of our beers.”

Pilsner Urquell– Having written in some length about the Samuel Adams glass developed by Boston Beer it seems fair to mention report hat Pilsner Urquell plans to distribute more than one million of its newly designed glasses to restaurants and bars throughout its Czech homeland.

Those bothered by the unusual shape (or perhaps we should say shapes) of the Samuel Adams glass will be glad to know that this one looks more like you’d expect. And for good reason.

Designer Ronny Plesl explains, “Czech customers are very traditional, and for a designer, this is a big challenge. I am a modern designer, I design a lot of very modern things, but for Czech beer, this is not possible. It must be something in the middle. A modern design, with a traditional face.”

The Sam Adams glass was designed to present Samuel Adams Boston Lager at its best. Is this one meant to make Pilsner Urquell taste better?

“Well the taste of beer is dependent upon many things, and this new glass has not been designed to change the taste, but instead to preserve the foam on top of the beer for much longer. So that is the main advantage of the new glass from our point of view, and indeed that’s the thing that will improve the experience of our consumers the most.”

Remember what Charles Bamforth said about foam.

– A list of the “Best American Beer Bars” at ForbesTraveler.com has received plenty of blogosphere attention and comment so I’ll pretty much pass on the latter.

Clearly an impossible task to do in 10 verses. Who you gonna leave off to get the Horse Brass Pub in there? (I’d venture that Chris Black of the Falling Rock Taphouse, which is on the list, would volunteer to pull his own pub to right that wrong — telling us something about the owners of both the Horse Brass and Falling Rock.)

Anyway, among the discussions online is why no place in Philadelphia gets a mention, particularly Monk’s Cafe and Standard Tap. Then, in conjunction with Philly Beer Week (now in full swing) Philadelphia Weekly compiled its own list of Philly’s Top 50 Bars. Standard Tap is sixth on that list, Monk’s is 14th.

No. 1? Grace Tavern.

The Session #13 roundup: Organic beer

The SessionChris O’Brien has the complete round up for Session #13, and the turnout was impressive.

A lot of different beers, showing us just how deep the interest for organic beers runs, matched by good-to-read commentary about beer, brewing green and sustainability.

Despite all that plenty of outstanding beers didn’t get mentioned, which must mean something. There’s a mini-revolution going on in the Northwest, for instance. And how did Mothership Wit from New Belgium Brewing, which has been the poster brewery for green practices, not get consumed in the name of better beer blogging?

Better beer foam: Maybe it’s organic

Empty beer glassAnd what I failed to mention yesterday about Green Lakes Organic Ale is that it poured with a billowing head that left elegant lacing on the sides of the glass. That certainly added to an impression the beer was fresh and alive.

I thought of this yesterday evening while I was reading “Grape vs. Grain,” a book by Charles Bamforth due out in May. It is subtitled “A Historical, Technological, and Social Comparison of Wine and Beer.” Once I finish it and then “He Said beer, She Said Wine” I will review the two of them together.

Before wandering off on a discourse about what constitutes a good head on a beer and why it happens, Bamforth writes:

“There is no question that foams impacts drinker’s perception of a product. Show customers images of beer with good or poor foam and those with superior foam are declared to be better brewed, fresh, and better tasting. All this is based solely on appearance; not a drop has been drunk in making this evaluation.”

(In the interest of honesty, the photo is not Green Lakes. It’s a picture of nice beer lace I happen to have on hand. No, I do not carry it around in my wallet.)