beers of conviction

Perhaps we should have headed to one of the nearby casinos last night. It takes a certain amount of luck to open seven bottles of Thomas Hardy’s Ale and find them all outstanding. Particularly when the last one is 40 years old.

By the time we got to the 1968 the sun had set on the Sandia Mountains — we drank these beers on our back portal — and the lights had come up in the Rio Grande Valley. We weren’t comparing how each beer looked in the glass or taking notes; instead talking about things friends talk about, although that certainly included the aromas and flavors from the succession of beers.

For the record, they were from 2003 (the first batch brewed at O’Hanlon’s), 1999 (the last batch brewed at Eldridge Pope), 1995, 1994, 1993, 1992 and then the 1968. [See yesterday’s post for details about how we got the 1968.]

Sorry, I don’t have a lot of adjectives for you. Perhaps that’s not in the spirit of blogging, but those are going to stay out there in the cool New Mexico air.

OK, since you guys pitched in with such friendly suggestions about dealing with the cork, just a few details. This was an “A” bottle, with the cork protruding from the top. When I gave it a gentle tug it broke off, leaving nicely solid cork in the neck.

That came out easily and cleanly with a corkscrew, emitting a surprising pop. We briefly discussed the implications — a little something wild going on after 40 years? First impressions included funky, adhesive and sewer water . . . but in a good way.

Within minutes those volatiles had faded. Still a lot going on in the glass, both great and not-so-great.

The best part? It sure as heck was still beer. And it sure as heck had soul.

Doesn’t look the message to wait until July of 1969 is going to be a problem . . .

The time has come to open the 1968 bottle of Thomas Hardy’s Ale.

Daria gave me this bottle for Christmas more than six years ago, and the immediate question was what to do with it. It’s not like there was any reason to expect to be anything other than an experience. Check out Tomme Arthur’s notes from a 2004 tasting:

1968- Was the first year that they bottled Hardy’s. There were three separate bottlings and the series begins with the A Bottle.

1968 A (The Pint Bottle)- A cork finished bottle with noticeable signs of evaporation. Perhaps they trapped a few thirsty angel’s in the bottle when it was packaged? The beer reveals a large Soy Sauce nose with Cidery, Vinegar and Lactic qualities all duking it out in a battle Royale. It finishes smokier than a bar in Chicago with flacid carbonation at best. Color wise, this one leans towards the dark to medium dark spectrum.

1968 “B” Bottling- Upon inspection, this one holds little promise. An incredible (ridiculous) amount of beer is missing. The cork crumbles upon insertion of the cork screw. Not a good sign! The beer embraces this cork situation to the max and I’m soon wondering if can send back a beer I haven’t even paid for? For some reason, this vintage has a Tobasco(tm) like flavors. It’s beyond bizarre. How do you do that in beer? Without a doubt not as good as the “A” bottle.

1968 “C” Bottling Capped Bottle- Now this is classic Hardy’s! We’re greeted by Vinegar, Oxidation and winey notes that wreak of musty cellars in wine country. It’s quite dry and light bodied. Tawny and Orangey in a way that the other two 68’s aren’t. The beer finishes with a clarity of purpose that exudes world class and demands that we hand the tag of red headed step child to its lesser brother- bottling “B.” The 1968 Hardy’s Capped bottle was an all timer for me this afternoon.

And when Daria bought it in an eBay auction the chap in the UK stated up front that he hadn’t treated the beer with the care stated on the back label (which sits on the bottle just as crooked as it looks in the photo above). But it didn’t seem right to set it out on shelf — because I want to look at it, that’s why — with the beer still inside. You’ll notice up top that the beer no longer reaches into the neck.

So I stored it on its side at about 55 F and we talked about what to do next. Daria hit on the idea it would be good to open in 2008, since the beer turns 40 and I turn 60. That was before we planned to be in Belgium on my birthday. And hauling a 40-year-old bottle of beer that’s likely going to suck didn’t seem so appealing.

Thus we’re planning on opening it tomorrow along with six other vintages (we’re expecting help drinking these). Just a few questions to answer first. What order should we drink the beers in? One possibility is to start with the 1968 (figuring it’s beyond hope), then drink the youngest and work our way toward the oldest (1992, and the previous one was excellent).

And how the heck do we safely get the cork out of the bottle?

And now we step outside the beer blogosphere — where it might seem there is nothing new to say about “extreme beers” — to recognize that to normal people they are still a topic of discussion.

Peter Rowe, whose work in the San Diego Union-Tribune I’ve pointed to many times, used the occasion of the Craft Brewers Conference to revisit the subject: The art of crafts: Extreme or balanced? The great beer debate continues.

Much from the the usual suspects, such as Garrett Oliver of Brooklyn Brewery saying, “If a chef tells you this is the saltiest stew you’ve ever tasted, that’s not what I want to hear. Anybody can put more hops in a brew kettle. That’s not a skill.”

And Greg Koch of Stone Brewing countering: “There may be a brewer somewhere that is just shoving more hops in. But the ones that really shine are the big beers that are artfully made.”

Certainly worth your time.

Rowe also has a six-pack of beer trends.

The Hoosier Beer Geek has pictures. Check out the line. Let’s just say showing up as late at 1:30 was not such a good idea.

Passion on display. Mostly. Unfortunately a little cold-hearted greediness. From a thread at Beer Advocate:

I drove from Minneapolis with a trunk full of Surly to enjoy and trade. Instead, I stood next to frat boys from Chicago who couldn’t stop talking about selling their Dark Lord on Ebay. I waited 5 hours in a line. The Dark Lord sold out 50 people in front of me. My girlfriend was upset because of the cold and I am leaving empty handed

Later in the thread: “It was frat boy hell. There goes the neighborhood…”

Also read the discussion at The Beer Mapping Project.

And at Rate Beer.