beers of conviction

Budweiser American Ale coming, but we’re going

Budweiser American AleWe’ll be in Brussels (still thinking about this) on Sept. 15, the day Budweiser American Ale officially debuts on draft. We’ll be in Stuttgart at Germany’s second largest beer festival on Sept. 29, the day the first bottles of American Ale go on sale.

Will the American beer world have been transformed by the time we return in December?

I think not, but you might disagree based on the amount of words already generated in beer blogs and at the beer rating/discussion sites (one example). Anheuser-Busch has done a great job of creating interest in American Ale ahead of its release. Of course it helps to have millions of advertising dollars to spend during the Olympics.

And for POS (point of sale advertising), like the tap handle pictured, that evokes a the same classic American tavern/saloon feel many smaller breweries and the places that serve their beer have taken advantage of for more than 20 years.

Not that A-B has done everything right. For instance, this from a company press release:

“Budweiser American Ale defines a new style of ale – The American Ale – with the full-bodied taste profile of the amber ale style, yet remarkably smooth and balanced,” said Eric Beck, brewmaster for Budweiser American Ale.

There’s an arrogance in that quote that begs for a separate post with a snippy headline.

That aside, A-B is providing support that the Michelob Specialty beers didn’t receive a decade ago, and seeing of the powerful Budweiser name offers the same sort of halo effect (no, I didn’t mean with you) it did for Bud Light way back when.

So what does Budweiser American Ale it taste like? I don’t know, but you can check here (Lew Bryson), here (three stars), here (a “huge splash”) and here (“not bad”).

No surprise. Pacific Ridge (5.6% abv, 35 IBU) and American Hop Ale (5.6% abv, 50 IBU) were both solid beers. The thing is . . . neither found an audience, at least big enough to satisfy the corporate decision makers.

Will BudAle?

I don’t expect that will be decided by March. We’ll be passing through St. Louis then, so I hope to visit a tavern with a big Budweiser eagle in the window to see what the locals are thinking . . . and drinking.

 

Sometimes the road beckons, beer be damned

Cape Breton Highlands

“You should have been here yesterday.”

Oooh, that can hurt.

“Too bad you can’t be here tomorrow.”

That might inflict even more pain, because sometimes it seems like there should be a way to hang around an extra day (or two more weeks if necessary).

In New Glarus, Wis., it was Dan Carey talking about a Czech-style lager they would brew the next day as part of the Unplugged Series. Triple decoction with 100% undermodified Moravian malt, Czech hops, fermented in oak, krausened at bottling . . . after more than two months of lagering.

And then showing off the new open fermenters dedicated to the production of Dancing Man Wheat (can’t youenvision the billowing wheat head?). “We’ll be brewing it tomorrow,” he said, standing in the yeast propagation room, which smelled a bit of banana. “Too bad you can’t be here tomorrow,” he said. There are those words again.

In Portland, Maine, brewmaster Jason Perkins opened a door to display the wood foder recently acquired from Bonny Doon in California. It would be put to work — you guessed it — tomorrow, filled without about 2,800 gallons of Allagash Tripel nearing the end of regular fermentation. That was to be inoculated with a grundy full of funk the brewers have been collecting. It might be two years before anybody tastes what comes of this.

Right after I mentioned some of this in a post, Sean Paxton scribbled on my Facebook wall: “How long are you on Maine? I am doing a beer dinner @ the Ebenezer’s Pub the last week of August.”

Aug. 28, as a matter of fact, the beer dinner everybody is linking to. Don’t just look at the beers being served, but the ones that Sean is cooking with. Aug. 28 will be the 100th day of our adventure.

Gotta be there, right? Not when we fly to Germany three days later. But then that excuse doesn’t earn much sympathy from you, does it?

Monday musing: Let’s hear it for small

Both catching up and musing . . .

– Nice interview with Jim Koch by Fortune. He says Sam Adams make flag waving, that is pointing out that every U.S. brewery larger than Boston Beer is foreign owned, part of its marketing program. Here’s the part I like.

Our destiny is to remain very small. We don’t make a mass-produced or mass-marketed beer. We make a very flavorful beer that really only appeals to 5% of beer drinkers. If we were a car we’d be a Porsche. Everyone is familiar with it, but the market share is probably what ours is.

He’s talking about Sam Adams, of course, but for “we” substitute “Goose Island” or “Berkshire Brewing” or “Boscos” and the thought is as valid.

Good old Falstaff – Both Jay Brooks and Maureen Ogle are commenting on a Slate article “And the next great American beer will be…?” Hop you can follow all those links.

That’s good enough excuse to play the nostalgia card and include this old Falstaff advertisement. I pretty much agree with what Jay has to say and with Maureen’s take on the silly Schlitz revival.

But I disagree with the notion Budweiser (or Bud Light), Miller and Coors are not American beers. Have they changed from when they were made at breweries fully owned by Americans? Are they not still brewed by American workers?

– Todd Ashman of FiftyFifty Brewing in California has organized a different sort of collaboration. In other projects brewers get together and make a beer at one or the other’s breweries. Like this one.

Concentrated Evil will be something different. Ashman first brewed the strong, dark Belgian-inspired beer made with raisins, exotic sugars and aromatic spices at FiftyFifty. Then he shared the recipe with Zac Triemert of Lucky Bucket Brewing in Nebraska and Matt Van Wyk of Flossmoor Station Brewing in Illinois.

This is like “indentic-ale” projects among regional breweries (Eugene, Chicago-area breweries, New Mexico breweries to name three) where brewers used the same recipe and sometimes the exact same ingredients (except for water) to make a beer. But in this case the breweries are in California, Nebraska and Illinois.

Problem is, how could anyone easily compare the results? Here’s the really good news for those who will be at the Great American Beer Festival in October. All three versions will be available in Denver.

This should be a great opportunity to debate the importance of “where” in the beer versus (or should that be plus) what the brewer adds. Heredity versus environment, anybody?

– Angel’s Share from Lost Abbey was chosen as the best American cask-conditioned beer at the Great British Beer Festival. No surprise (I’ve already written enough about the beer), but a here’s what Andy Benson, manager of the Bieres Sans Frontieres bar, had to say: “American beers are often a surprise to the British palate, they are so intensely flavored that most people either love them or hate them, nothing like the insipid lagers we usually associate with America.”

– It appears the way is clear for Bell’s return to Illinois. That’s a good thing, because Bell’s has been an important part of Chicago becoming a better beer town, and Chicago was essential to Bell’s “early” success. I put early in quotes because Larry Bell’s brewery was hardly an overnight success.

Monday musing: Local brewers make local beers

As Alan nicely reported in close to real time (complete with a photo of our RV in case you’ve been wondering what our 140 square foot home looks like) our family spent a lovely evening with his last week. There was a lot of talk of beer — and a few beers were consumed — but also plenty about other things. Hang out with Alan and you quickly find out he’s led, and continues to lead, one heck of an interesting life. (You can also get a glimpse here.)

The conversation mix didn’t change when John Graham of Church-Key Brewing and Steve Beauchesne of Beau’s Brewing joined us, but I did learn that to be a small-batch brewer in Ontario you really got to want the job. They put up with a lot beyond taxes that make beer much more expensive than in the States an a myriad of regulations.

What struck me is both mentioned more than once who they are content with the size (small) of their breweries. I can’t tell you how many times during the past 15 years I’ve heard brewers say, “I don’t want to get that big, something like —- (fill in the blank with a brewery that is big — such as Sierra Nevada in the 1990s, now one like New Belgium or Deschutes) is all we are shooting for.”

There was none of that talk last week. Instead I heard about providing local customers with interesting choices, and more than once comments like one from Steve: “I just want to make enough beer to put my kids through college.”

I’m not saying that a brewery can’t grow larger, or sell its beer far from home, and still serve its local market. We can all come up with plenty of outstanding examples. (New Belgium and Deschutes would be among them.)

But I like the idea that the local guy is only local, hanging out at home in Ontario (in this case), talking to his neighbors about local beer that’s not going to be shipped anywhere else.

– Drinking in the real world. Last week in northern Vermont we visited cheese makers, a coffee roaster, a (maple) sugar house, an ice cream factory, and drank local beer (we wanted to take the funky Magic Hat tour I’ve read so much about but those are suspended because of construction). Each provoked thoughts about artisan production, ingredients and quality control.

Interesting to read Stonch’s post Sunday titled “Mass-produced beers – revisited” after those experiences.

I’ve spent the best part of three years seeking out obscure and interesting beers from around the world. I’ve tried almost every variety, from funky Belgian lambics to aggressive American DIPAs. Now I find myself applying more experienced taste buds and a better understanding of beer to mainstream products I temporarily dismissed out of hand. What I find are significant qualitative differences that demand attention.

Unless you’re happy to drastically restrict your options in terms of beers and the places you drink them in, then avoiding the produce of larger breweries simply isn’t possible. I’m less enamoured than ever with pubs that cater principally for beer enthusiasts, and you know what I think about beer festivals. In short, I want to live – and drink – in the real world.

I agree with him, but if I lived in Vermont the discussion could be moot.

– Remember Honey Amber Rose? It’s the one that was trademarked as “The first beer for women.” Its owners are going to try to sell the brand on eBay. This despite the fact the beer has been a wild success (their words). Does this story ring true for you? If so, go ahead and bid on that “200-year-old-secret recipe” for a low-calorie beer.