beers of conviction

The Ann Arbor News does a quick Q&A with Ron Jeffries of Jolly Pumpkin Ales: Serving humanity via better beer. Give Ron an opportunity to wax philosophic and he will.

Consider the last question: What makes a great beer?

That is a question that is impossible to answer because its entirely subjective. A really great beer is going to be different for every individual, and not only every individual, but every moment of your day and every day of your life because there are so many different flavors out there within different beers that go with so many different foods or different weather. There’s no answer to that question.

Nice answer.

Also got me wondering if flipping two words makes it a different question: What makes a beer great?

Too subtle? Perhaps. It could be the setting, a different sort of “moment” than Ron refers to, the pour, when the cask was broached, whatever.

All reasons that sometimes you drink a good-excellent-just fair beer and think “great,” and sometimes you pour a “great” beer and it isn’t.

When Stephen Beaumont commented yesterday that “the Italians are currently at a crossroads between innovation and expertise” I don’t think he was talking about quality control. It’s something to consider, though, given that most of these breweries haven’t been around 10 years, so they are focused on figuring out flavors rather than packaging.

I stand by New Beer Rule #4: The god of beer is not consistency. But there’s variation and there’s variation, and Panil Barriquée proved that to me in 2007. It was one the very best beers I had all year, and one of the worst.

The first Barriquée of the year was simply disappointing. I picked up a bottle last April for Sunday dinner. It takes something of an occasion to spring for a $17 bottle of beer, but it has been that good in the past. This 2006 bottle poured nearly flat, and I since learned that almost all bottles from the vintage were under-carbonated. Some more (or would that be less?) than others. The flavors were there, but the beer tasted like they hadn’t been introduced to each other.

The difference was apparent in August when I had a 2007 bottle (with Batch #8 right on the label). The aromas and flavors seemed to jump out of the glass. Maybe it was the contrast to the 2006, but the energy in this beer was stunning.

It’s one of the beers I was sent for All About Beer magazine’s Beer Talk. Part of what I wrote: “Lushly textured with tightly woven flavors – oak, cherries, vanilla and brown sugar – balanced by rich vinegar notes. As it warms soft malt character moves to the background, giving way to a tasty sourness.”

That doesn’t happen if there isn’t life in the bottle.

In November I saw the 2006 vintage again. It was at a homebrew club meeting and the topic of the month was “sour ales.” A member rounded up a bunch of beers and we sampled them, after a show of hands indicating less than half those in the room had sampled intentionally sour beers. Most weren’t ready for Cantillon Iris, but that’s a separate story.

I wasn’t even going to try the Barriquée, but was curious because it turned out it came from a store that doesn’t necessarily care for beer that well. I wondered what six months of warm storage might have done for it or to it. Nope. Now it was flat and unpleasantly sour. Like the vinegar we used to make from beer. Certainly not what the brewer intended.

I looked around the room. A lot of puckering, and plenty of confusion about the difference between “good sour” and “bad sour.” I certainly wish we’d had a bottle of Batch #08 to show them what it should have tasted like.

The Italians are coming. The Italians are coming.

If all he hype is correct then Birrificio is going to become part of any good beer geek’s vocabulary. Cancel that trip to Wallonia; I’m headed to Piedmont.

Goodness. These things happen quickly. Just a little over two years ago during the Great American Beer Festival the Brewers Association put together a panel of American brewers talking about their Belgian-inspired ales.

“Belgian-style ales are hot,” Ray Daniels said, making the introductions. “I’ve begun to refer to them as the Third Wave.” He explained German and British styles were the first two waves.

Is it time for a fourth already? It would certainly be different than the first three. Germany, the UK and Belgium all have historic beer traditions, dusty brewing logs to study, they invented beer styles. Italy? Italy was lumped in with “The Mediterranean” in Michael Jackson’s first World Guide to Beer. Compared to Iberia, which merited its own facing pages.

I mention this today, when I was so looking forward to writing about Light/Lite beer, because Don Russell has two must reads on the subject. Start with his column, Italy – the next great brewmaster?, and then head on to his blog and an extended interview with Lorenzo Dabove.

Additionally, in the previous issue of Ale Street News, editor Tony Forder detailed extensive travels in Northern Italy, importer B. United International has put together an entire Italian Release campaign, and on May 8 Brooklyn Brewery brewmaster Garrett Oliver will give a presentationa at National Geographic Headquarters in the District of Columbia titled “The Italian Beer Renaissance.”

The press release sums things up: “Long thought of as a wine producing rather than a brewing country, Italy has in the past few years seen the birth of several fine microbreweries. The result is an array of products that go beyond the traditional European beer styles, making for a brave new world of brews that echoes the inventiveness of Belgian brewers, but with an unmistakably Italian flair.”

Go beyond the traditional European beer styles. Indeed. These guys make Sam Calagione look like Anton Dreher. Chestnuts are big in Italy, as are flowers and just about any spice you could think of. Commercially available beers include a blueberry barley wine, a tobacco porter and pre-Prohibition American pilsener dry-hopped with recyled “We Want Beer” posters. (The first two are true.)

We’re not getting many of these beers in New Mexico. Guess we’ll have to visit my cousin in Italy (October, it’s on our schedule). Meanwhile, Joe Sixpack has the floor:

“Is Italy the next great beer nation? It has a long way to go, but its astoundingly unique selection of artisan ales certainly deserves some attention from U.S. beer lovers.”

Roger Protz rightfully asks why the British press hasn’t been all over the news that beer sales by members of the Society of Independent Brewers were up nearly 11% in 2007.

This stunning success story – at a time when giant global brewers are reporting a sharp downturn in sales in Britain – has been met by a resounding silence by the media.

Michael Hardman, SIBA’s press officer, tells him, “This is a great British success story – but nobody wants to know.”

Protz pulls no punches:

The reason is not hard to understand: the media is obsessed with “24-hour” drinking” and “binge drinking” and doesn’t want to write about a good beer story. As Hardman adds, “If you substituted ‘beer’ in the report with the word ‘wine,’ the media would be falling over themselves to write glowing stories.”

It’s not like the ongoing success of “craft” brewers in the United States doesn’t get pretty good coverage.

– I’ve tried not to spend too much time looking at the Philly Beer Week schedule. I know my head would blow up were attending an option. And that’s a best case scenario. If it didn’t then I’d surely destroy at least some of my internal plumbing. They should call it Philly Hedonist Week. Best I stay here in New Mexico.

But it does make you think about Philadelphia boldly declaring itself “America’s Best Beer-Drinking City.” This has led Stephen Beaumont and Don Russell to debate Philadelphia’s beer cred in Ale Street News. (So far just in print, but look for the story to pop up online.)

I’d say I was staying out of it, but since last week I casually mentioned that any such debate begins and ends with Portland, Oregon (see, Jeff, I wrote it again), I’ve already taken a stand.

Were I getting further involved I certainly would use Russell’s post Saturday about the demise of Ludwig’s as evidence for whatever other side. Geez, if Gibson City, Illinois, can support a German restaurant with a solid beer selection shouldn’t America’s Best Beer-Drinking City?

– Conversations here sometimes go directions I would not have anticipated. One last week about buying habits of Gen Yers turned into a discussion about authenticity. Enough to talk about that Lew Bryson then added much you should read at his blog, including an important comment.

I meant everything I said at the beginning of the post about what “authentic” means to me, and that’s what I want…but I want to define it for myself, and I would just as soon not see claims for it made by brewers when it’s not clear what it does mean.

A reminder we all our own definitions, and biases. Me, when I read something like this from Beerdrinker of the Year finalist Matt Venzke I want to shout hallelujah:

“Small breweries are one of the few remaining vestiges of local uniqueness. Internationally, breweries reflect the local character, history and flavor.”

Your mileage may vary.