The Cluster hop, landraces, and breeding

Alan McLeod asked a question a while back that, to be honest, points to a liberty I probably should not have taken in For the Love of Hops.

A question about “landrace” however. I understand it represents as a word the division between husbandry and wild. A word of the 1700s perhaps. When you looked at Cluster and described it as a landrace, would you only use the word if the hybridization occurred in the wild as Dutch plantings met their New York forest cousins? Or does it include the potential for intentional 1600 Dutch hop breeding in the Hudson?

His question resulted from a) others he has related to Albany Ale and the Dutch settlement of the Hudson Valley, and b) a headline I wrote on a sidebar in FTLOH: “Cluster: America’s Landrace Variety?” Bad headline, because who notices the question mark? It was a mistake to go beyond what I wrote in the body: “in a sense selection was much like the landrace varieties on the Continent and in England.”

A mistake because there’s enough lack of clarity looking backward, trying to sort out the origins of hop varieties, that mucking with the definition of landrace only makes it worse. Obviously, there’s more detail in the book, but here are the basics in short order:

Breeding and landrace hops

From the time hops were first cultivated more than a thousand years ago farmers chose to grow varieties, first found growing in the wild, based on their brewing and agronomic qualities. They were simply clonal selections, but different varieties emerged as plants naturally cross-pollinated. The best endured and are called landrace varieties by hop geneticists. The short list includes Saazer types, Hallertau Mittelfrüh, Fuggle and Golding. An argument could be made for others like Hersbrucker and Strisselspalt, but that is tangential.

What’s important for clarity is that these are all hops of European origin. The plant has been around at least six million years, likely originating in Mongolia. European types diverged from the Chinese varieties more than a million years ago, American types more like a half million years ago. American varieties contain compounds that may create odors that result in aromas and flavors once considered undesirable but now highly sought after.

Modern hop breeding, that is hybridization, did not begin being until the twentieth century. Research by the Austrian monk Gregor Mendel in the mid-nineteenth century (which went unrecognized until about 1900) established that, contrary to Charles Darwin’s theories, certain traits may occur in offspring without any blending of parental characteristics. His principles laid the foundation for plant breeding programs that created entirely new varieties, including hops.

Perhaps it would have happened anyway, but we can point to a time when hop breeding changed and therefore hops themselves. Not long after E.S. Salmon took charge of the program at Wye College in England in 1906 he set out to combine the high resin content of American hops, including some found growing wild, with the aroma of European hops. This eventually resulted in hops with more than 20 percent alpha acids, compared to four percent common at the beginning of the century, and a much wider range of aromas.

Clearly the Dutch and others growing hops in America in the 1600s were not breeding in the modern sense. But they were doing just what farmers were in England and on the Continent — always trying to identify the best plants and further propagate them. These likely were a mixture of imported European varieties and wild American types. None persevered, however, unless as part of the Cluster variety.

Cluster hops

Here’s what Steiner’s Guide to American Hops had to say about Late Cluster in 1973:

“The Late Cluster is the oldest American variety grown continuously in the Northwest. Known as the Pacific Coast Cluster, it was widely grown at the turn of the century and was the leading cultivar, until the decline of acreage in California and Oregon was counter-balanced with the growth of the hop industry in Washington, where the Early Cluster became dominant. The origin of the Late is obscure, but it was probably originally derived from the native North American hop.1 It may have been a selection from these, or resulted from a cross with introduced varieties brought over by colonists, or from a cross of native western varieties with stock brought by settlers who established hop growing in the Pacific Northwest. The Late Cluster was similar to but more vigorous than the Milltown, and other strains of Cluster grown in New York State, after the Prohibition Era.”

One other important note from Steiner: “Any cultivar grown widely and continuously over a long interval of time, will, if not occasionally reselected, accumulate a large number of mutations. … Thus the Late Cluster is actually a collection of similar clones rather than a distinct homogeneous cultivar.” Early Cluster, given that name because it matures earlier, likely was a mutation of Late Cluster, and more widely grown. Together the accounted for almost 80 percent of American hop acreage forty years ago.

I suggested calling it an “American landrace” variety because it resulted from clonal selections and remains around today (amounting to less than 2 percent of the American crop). In that way it is much like Fuggle, itself shrouded in some mystery, or Saaz. However, genetically, it is much different. And that’s a difference to pay attention to.

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1 Genetic studies since proved that Cluster is a cross between European and American varieties.

The Session #73 announced: Beer audit

The SessionAdam at Pints and Pubs has announced that the topic for The Session #73 with be Beer Audit.

Time to check out your cellar, or whatever passes for a cellar, beer fridge, and any place else you store beer.

I’m interested to know if you take stock of the beers you have, what’s in your cellar, and what does it tell you about your drinking habits. This could include a mention of the oldest, strongest, wildest beers you have stored away, the ratio of dark to light, strong to sessionable, or musings on your beer buying habits and the results of your cellaring.

Per usual, anybody is welcome to participate in The Session. Simply post on March 1 and send Adam a link. He’ll write a recap that appears a few days later.

The Session #72 recapped: Lots of beer love

The SessionRyan Newhouse has posted the roundup for The Session #72: How We Love Beer.

It seems most people didn’t struggle as much with the question as I did. And I particularly like Ryan’s preface to the recap.

What I especially enjoyed about these articles is that they overwhelmingly told a story about the journey we are, or have been, on. It’s not all rose-colored beer glasses – sometimes beer is frustrating, disappointing, or mysterious. But we keep coming back to it because at its center we find not only something that brings us joy – we find those around us who share our passion, and that’s just lovely.

Adam at Pints and Pubs will host The Session #73. Look for an announcement soon.

Best beer name of the year – so far

This is the sort of thing you find when you read too many journalism-related blogs. Who names a beer Unemployed Reporter Porter? Can’t quite fit it all into a tweet, so from CT.com (meaning Connecticut):

Jon Campbell, who briefly made Hartford a more interesting place with his presence and reporting for the Advocate, has entered the homebrew game with his signature Unemployed Reporter Porter (pictured).

“Porter style beers were first popularized in the nineteenth century by merchant sailors and manual dock laborers,” the label reads. “Unemployed Reporter is crafted in the same tradition, honoring a profession likewise doomed to decline and irrelevance.”

For this new class of “expendables,” the label goes on, “we’ve included chocolate and roasted barley malts that are as dark and bitter as the future of American journalism, and a high alcohol content designed to numb the pain of a slow, inexorable march toward obsolescence. While Unemployed Reporter is especially delicious as a breakfast beer, it’s still smooth enough to be enjoyed all day, every day. And let’s be honest: what else do you have going on?”

Now head there to read the rest and look at the label.

Perspective: Making Bud & Clydesdales part of the conversation

Don Russell (“Joe Sixpack”) offered a great overview the other day of why Anheuser-Busch InBev will be dropping big bucks Sunday for Super Bowl ads supporting the new Budweiser Black Crown and Beck’s Sapphire.

It’s about driving the conversation. Grant Pace, the guy who thought up the Bud Bowl, has the complete explanation. Worth the time it takes to read (scroll to the bottom).

Black Crown emerged from an initiative A-B called Project 12 1 (sorry, age check required), which I wrote about in the January issue of All About Beer magazine. My interest was more in 63118, the Project beer brewed in St. Louis.

(I liked it much better than 91406, the Los Angeles beer chosen to become Black Crown. Of course, that’s probably a good touch point — I’m not the target audience for Black Crown; nor are the five or so of you reading this.)

However, my story ended up being as much about marketing — relevancy and conversation — as about the nuts and bolts of 63118.

“Until two years ago there were a lot of 21 to 27-year-olds who weren’t drinking Bud,” Nate Scudieri, Budweiser senior brand manager, said after St. Louis brewmaster Jim Bicklein led us through parts of the brewery Scudieri hadn’t seen previously (apparently they don’t get a lot of requests to see the hop storage area). “It wasn’t as relevant a brand to them.

“What it (Project 12) does, it gets consumers to look at Budweiser differently,” Scudieri said. “It exists to give people a reason to try Budweiser (itself) again, when they see the sort of things Budweiser is capable of. (Drinkers 21 to 27 years old) are interested in finding what’s new in beer. Styles, ABV, color. They want to discover the beers and share them with their friends.”

I’ve been known to have a beer or two with Mike Kallenberger, who comments from here from time to time. He operates Tropos Brand Consulting and previously worked for 30 years at Miller Brewing and MillerCoors. He has on occasion brought up the term “share of mind.” Those with a long memory consider those dirty words, because they remember when A-B put the clamps on distributors, demanding full “share of mind,” making it clear whose brands should get their full attention.

But as Kallengberger points out, “share of mind” leads market share. “It’s much, much bigger (for craft beer) than the percentage of sales,” he said. “Maybe 40 or 50 percent of the quote, unquote, conversation.”

Which brings us back to what what Pace wrote Russell in that lengthy email.

In that way the big beer companies lost the conversation. If you wanted to discuss, talk about or mention beer all the mindshare was in the microbrews. And meanwhile, young people migrated to cocktails and the healthy set over to wine. Both not coincidentally offer not only an endless variety of styles and flavors, but also conversation, lore and positions and sides to take. Fruity or dry? Chilled? Dirty or neat? Ice? Soda? Olive, onion or capers? The discussion is endless.

There are plenty of examples of how large brewing companies are trying to make their beers part of the conversation again. Curiously, by writing about this, Russell and I are promoting that conversation, which I’m about to compound by giving you a bunch of links. But to be clear, in case you hadn’t considered it, smaller brewing companies do this too. Although I’ve seen the Brewers Association’s “Craft vs. Crafty” initiative described as ill-considered it has clearly attracted the attention of the people the BA wants paying attention. (And last week, when the Wall Street Journal posted the story and video with a link below I got an email asking if I thought this was an example of “craft vs. crafty.” Tell me that “c v. c” hasn’t changed the conversation).

Also, the other day Charlie Papazian tweeted a link to the “I am a Craft Brewer” video to his nearly 20,000 followers. Just to keep it top of mind.

Now to the links.

* Budweiser joined Twitter this week (www.twitter.com/budweiser), and the first tweet was a picture of the newest Clydesdale. This is part of a Twitter/Facebook promotion to name this Clydesdale. The Super Bowl commercial that features baby foal had already been viewed 2.5 million times on YouTube by Saturday morning.

* Compare the Clydesdale commercial to the one for the one for Black Crown or Beck’s Sapphire. Obviously more than one beer conversation going on these days. And, by the way, there’s a Saphire banner on the top of the YouTube home page today.

* Here’s an interview with Jill Vaughn, who has worked in A-B’s St. Louis brewery since 1996 and is in charge of the Shock Top brand. Shock Top, of course is one of those “crafty” beers that might fool consumers into thinking it is “craft” rather than brewed in several A-B plants around the country. Maybe, but in St. Louis it sits on grocery store shelves next to Bud Light. Seems pretty obvious. One thing I learned from Kallenberger a few years ago, during a presentation at the Craft Brewers Conference, is that millennials (those Gen Y consumers hitting their prime beer drinkers) value diversity. Female brewer = good.

* Triple points for an African-American, female brewer who is a millennial herself. Meet Rebecca Reid, who was featured in Barron’s about a week ago. She created the recipe for Bud Light Platinum. Now she “is trying to stretch the boundaries of what typically ends up in a beer. Recently she mixed hibiscus flowers with wheat and lemon peels to approximate the taste of a ‘strawberry lemonade’ beer.” I’m guessing that Alan McLeod and Jeff Alworth may not approve.

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1 The recipes for the six Project 12 beers were the product of the dozen brewmasters in charge of the company’s American breweries. They collaborated on the beers, creating six that took the names of the ZIP Codes where they were brewed. Consumers tasted them and provided feedback throughout the summer, 10,000 of them at the Made in America Festival – a music extravaganza in Philadelphia headlined by Jay-Z over Labor Day weekend. A St. Louis-area distributor posted when samples would be served at a few taverns not far from our house. So I dropped by one of them on a weekday night. Not until I got there did I realize this was atypical. This was not a special event people drove out of their way for, say like when Stone Brewing and Deschutes Brewery began selling beer in Missouri relatively recently.

There were two representatives there. One would wander over to the bar and invite customers back to sample a couple of ounces of each of the six Project 12 beers. When the woman pouring beer got to 63118 she warned each drinker it was much more bitter than Budweiser itself, even mentioning it contained 18 International Bitterness Units, compared to 10 in Bud.

(A-B seldom talks about IBU in Bud or its other beers. In 1982, Joe Owades, a legend in brewing circles who is credited with developing the first light beer, estimated the bitterness of Budweiser was equivalent to 20 IBU in 1946, and still 17 in the 1970s.)

The 63118 was noticeably bitter, but not exactly a shock to my system. What was striking was the hop aroma, since it turned out most of the hops (Mittelfrüh, from both the Hallertau and Tettnang regions of Germany) were added at the end of boiling, resulting in an elegant, floral-spicy aroma. That’s one reason it was my favorite.