It was kind of fun the other day, so let’s give it another try.
The goal, again, is to identify the outlier and explain why it doesn’t belong on the list. There may be more than one answer, although I happen to have a specific one in mind.
a) Three Floyd’s Alpha King
b) Fuller’s Vintage Ale
c) Ommegang Abbey Ale
d) De Ranke XX Bitter
e) Saint Arnold Summer Pils
Just so you know, nobody’s definition of “craft beer” sets any of these beers apart, nor does the country of origin.
A very nice article in the current Zymurgy (the magazine mailed to members of the American Homebrewers Association and also available on newsstands) by Martyn Cornell and Antony Hayes titled “Burton Ale: A British Comfort Beer.”
I particularly like this paragraph: “Burton Ale is a comforting beer brewed for adults. It is not an extreme beer catering to childish tastes, but a strong, rich beer, playing off plenty of bitterness against a sweet, malty undertone. It has no rough edges.”
And this one: “When brewing a Burton Ale, it is best to remember the things that comforted you most as a child — your teddy bear or blanket perhaps — and then aim for a beer that will evoke similar emotions.”
(If you grew up hugging pine cones, then obviously you’re gonna brew a different beer. That’s a discussion for another day.)
I must admit my shoulders drooped a bit when I read the recipe (which calls for an alarming amount of East Kent Golding hops — comparable to well over 3 pounds per barrel before dry hopping — and discovered a bit of bad news: “Rack into maturation tanks and mature for a year.”
There’s a reason they call them maturation tanks.
The story Adam has at beernews.org that Belgian brewery Duvel will produce Brewery Ommegang beers — otherwise made in Cooperstown, New York — may seem familiar. Duvel briefly brewed Ommegang beers five years ago when demand outstripped capacity.
Back then I took samples of Ommegang Abbey Ale brewed both in Belgium and New York to a local brewpub and asked customers there on a Sunday afternoon — most of whom, it turned out, had never tried anything from Belgium or even inspired by Belgian beers — if they could tell the difference. I repeated the experiment twice more, including with friends as interested in wine as beer, then hard-core beer savvy types who viewed the test as a challenge.
I’ve added the story that resulted to the library.
***SPOILER ALERT-SPOILER ALERT*** For those who don’t want to bother with the click the results are summarized below.
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Quick summary of the results: Just over half (that’s chance) correctly picked out the odd beer in a “triangle tasting,” and 57 percent preferred the Cooperstown version.
Fine post at DesJardin Brewing centered on Jason Oliver, Devil Backbone Brewing and the excellent lagers Oliver brews there. Oliver gets a chance speak at length about why decoction (during which some of the mash is removed, boiled and returned to the original mash, often two or three times) matters. Good stuff, but I do wish he hadn’t said this:
What you can’t substitute is the romance of decoction! Even if you do not notice any difference in a beers taste, the fact you did one is not made any less valid. Craft brewing is a craft, and using a traditional method to brew a traditional beer is something to be celebrated not denigrated. My advice is if you can decoct it then do it on special brews, it makes it extra special, extra traditional, and extra authentic.
He and I talked a while back about how decoction adds flavor and texture to some beers. If you take the time to read “Decocting with Jason Oliver” you’ll notice not everybody agrees.
A few years ago Martin Krottenthaler, a professor at the Weihenstephan brewing university north of Munich, talked about research comparing decoction mashing and less-time consuming infusion mashing. He flipped through PowerPoint slides, explaining why lesser malts once made decoction necessary. “Boiling is boiling,” he said, showing benchmarks that the chemists recorded were different throughout the two processes but the resulting worts produced almost identical profiles.
Then he introduced the human element. A tasting panel basically confirmed the results, because few of its members could tell the difference — but Krottenthaler was one of those who could pick out the beers produced using decoction. “For me it was significant,” he said.
Krottenthaler’s experience is what decoctionist (yes, I just made that word up) should be talking about. I agree with Oliver that brewers make a statement about the artisanal aspect of their craft when they choose to use decoction. But it’s an empty gesture if the beer they create doesn’t actually taste better. It feels like we’ve stepped into the dreaded realm of marketing.
The reason to value traditional brewing methods is not simply that they are traditional but that they result in beers that tastes better. Try the ones from Devils Backbone and you’ll understand.
If that’s not enough for you, here’s a gem from page 27, where the author eloquently states the purpose of hops is to “…provide balance to the beer just as a girl’s left boob does for her right. One without the other is a freakish carny.”
And that’s the stuff you can print in a family blog.
Is the writer talking to you?
Item 1: A rather high percentage of the beers in Paste magazine online’s “25 Best New American Beers of 2010” might be called wild, weird or extreme (sometimes all three).
Item 2: During a wide-ranging online chat with Inc. Dogfish Head Brewery founder Sam Calagione said, “The world doesn’t need another world-class Kölsch or a world-class pale ale. The world needs more innovative beer.”*
Nothing against the beers on the Paste list. Some good stuff there. And Calagione’s advice for beer entrepreneurs should be considered in context. He had been asked for the five things most vital to starting a brewery. After talking about passion, work ethic and the importance of being a “people person” he turned to the importance of technical skills. “You can’t fake it” like when he started, he said modestly. “You won’t last unless you are making world-class beer out of the gate.”
That’s an overstatement, of course, meant to make a point. Then he said, “Make sure you recipes are unique,” followed by “the world doesn’t need . . . (quoted above)” and, being redundant in the manner of a good teacher, “Make sure you are differentiated in the marketplace.”
A solid prescription for success, and a good way to end up on the Paste list. However I think the world still needs more very good (as mentioned here several times, world class is a moving target) beers, innovative or otherwise.
I hesitate to use the word “Kölsch” because that’s a protected appellation. However, delicate pale beers are a fine example of the importance of being local and fresh. The world needs more of them. Innovation is good, even if the word has been overworked of late when discussing beer, but over the years brewers have created a rather pleasant range of styles to choose from. Not every new brewer needs to reinvent beer.
And not every one wants to. As a mentioned yesterday, La Cumbre Brewing recently opened in Albuquerque. Founder-brewer Jeff Erway expects Elevated IPA to be the flagship and so far it’s easily the biggest seller. It’s full of alcohol (7.5% abv) and hops (calculated at 100 IBU, though it likely wouldn’t clock that in a lab), but bitter and aromatic. Outrageous a decade ago; almost mainstream today.
“I’m not one for throwing oddball ingredients in beer. I’m pretty much a traditionalist,” Erway said. “I brew styles and I try to brew them the best I can. I guess it’s an old route.”
There are plenty of routes. Innovative beers are one result, often good. “Regular” beers are another. There can’t be too many good ones.
Because sometimes you just want a beer that pairs well with a game of dominoes (photo taken Saturday at La Cumbre).
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* Thanks to Adam for pointing to the Sam Calagione chat and culling out enough details to make me go watch the whole thing.