beers of conviction

Going to extremes in pursuit of an ‘extreme’

Well, if we’re going to ask a woman about marketing to women, maybe we should check in with the Gen Y crowd when discussing “millennials” and beer. Both what they say, and what they will do.

Exhibit #1: Swordboarder’s comment the other day. He uses the word “they” but he’s the same age as Sierra Nevada Brewing. Sierra Nevada is Gen Y.

Exhibit #2: Steve at Summer of Beer, 26 and a grad student, heads off in pursuit of Deschutes The Abyss.

In case you don’t know, Abyss has been the “extreme beer” du Jour, particularly in Oregon.

Version 1.0, released last year, won all kinds of awards, and even deserved to. An 11% abv imperial stout, v2.0 it was aged in French oak, pinot noir and bourbon barrels since March. It’s got “extreme” written all over it.

Steve begins, “Conceding that it will not make its way into the Inland Valley, I am about to embark on a journey to the find Deschutes The Abyss.”

Along the way he might pick up a case of Olympia for his dad.

It’s a short trip, with a happy ending.

The Session #12: Lost Abbey Angel’s Share

The SessionNote: This is my contribution to The Session #12: Barleywine, hosted by Jon at The Brew Site. Head on over to see what everybody else is drinking.

“When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered . . . the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls . . . bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory.”
– Marcel Proust

Scientists tell us aroma stimulations are hardwired into our memory processing center. That sounds a bit cold. I’d rather talk about Lost Abbey Angel’s Share.

When the glass is about six or eight inches from my nose it smells just like it did when I first had it at the 2006 Great American Beer Festival. A rich, complex blast of beer energy that made me pause as I started to lift the one-ounce serving to my lips. I can see brewer Tomme Arthur holding the bottle in his right hand, the recently removed cork in his left. He’s wearing a black Lost Abbey shirt, a “gotcha” smile on his face, his head particularly shiny.

Tomme ArthurA tableau that returned to my mind last spring when I read Michael Jackson’s working introduction to Beer-Eyewitness Companions and he wrote:

“Tomorrow’s classics will evolve from the currently embryonic American brews categorised by their admirers as Extreme Beers. These are the most intense-tasting beers ever produced anywhere in the world.”

I once again saw Arthur (at the right) holding that bottle. Now when I nose the beer I hear an echo of Jackson. These are the most intense-tasting beers ever produced anywhere in the world. I expect I always will.

I’d love to see his tasting notes on Angel’s Share, likely something I’d never think of. Dark dried fruit, vanilla, coconut, wood tannins, bourbon, maple syrup, brandy, caramel, toffee, molasses. We got all those flavors Wednesday evening, as well as impressions I don’t have ready adjectives for but that are firmly stamped in my memory.

We is Daria (my wife for those not regulars around here) and I. We spent going on two hours with the beer, chatting about travel plans much more than flavors. But each time we revisited Angel’s Share there was something new. It’s a contemplative beer, but you don’t have to spend all your time contemplating it.

Still, questions came to mind. And, via e-mail, Arthur had answers.

Just the facts

This batch released in November spent eight months in oak barrels that once held brandy. It’s 11.5% abv. The next batch will be one aged in bourbon barrels. Unlike the first two batches, sold in 750ml bottles, that one will be in 375s.

The base was brewed just for this project, but on its own is closer “to style” than many Lost Abbey beers. That style would be English barley wine (though a strong one even before the barrels boost the abv). It’s a reminder that it takes a great beer at the center for a barrel-aged beer to be great.

Now the soul

Which came first, the beer or the barrels?

“The Beer came first. The same base beer was used to create our Late Harvest 15th Anniversary Ale for Pizza Port Solana Beach in 2002. We have never served the base beer on its own although it is quite the little number even without the barrel aging. When we secured the brandy barrels, I had a feeling these flavors were more in line with what I was expecting back in 2002. In this way, the beer soars in a way the other could not. Although, I am very partial to the Late Harvest for its inclusion of grapes and barrel aging properties.”

Do you feel growing pressure with each release?

“I think in many ways, this is one beer that I am completely at peace with. It doesn’t require microbial dispositions and as long as we’re able to secure new oak for the aging on a regular basis, I feel confident in our ability to get this one in the bottle at the highest level with the flavors we’ve come to expect from this beer. There is a heightened sense of drama (per se) with each new consumer and their expectations of flavor towards this beer. It is the highest rated barley wine on Rate Beer right now and that brings with it a whole flooded fields worth of concern. This concern manifests itself in a ‘I sure hope I haven’t let the consumer down’ sort of way.”

Can a beer like this be too intense? Where’s the balance?

“I think that every beer has its breaking points. One of the reasons we went to the smaller format was to give consumers the opportunity to not have to consume large amounts of a sipping beer. For me, I don’t see this beer as being too intense. I think the balance is derived in flavor acquisition and maturation . . . ie when we start the uptake of brandy flavors from the wood and marry them to the sweetness of the beer, we see the maturation from oxidation and subtle integration of the nuances involved. In this way, we take a great beer and make it better as long as we don’t burden the beer and force it to walk in the shadow of the oak basis we’ve applied.”

These are the most intense-tasting beers ever produced anywhere in the world.

Stone six-pack prices going up today

Stone BrewingNow this is getting personal.

Stone XII will not be a hop bomb.

Kind of takes your breath away, doesn’t it? It gets worse. Ballast Point has quit bottling Dorado, one of the style-defining Double (some say Imperial) IPAs. A beer that a beer brewing chemist once described this way: “‘Savage’ flavor but not taste. Hoppy. Hoppy. Hop. Hop.”

Pete Rowe of the San Diego Union-Tribune (who consistently offers some of the best daily newspaper reporting on beer) gets down and dirty with what the hop shortage means in San Diego.

We knew higher beer prices were coming (and in some cases had already arrived). Rowe reports six-packs from Stone Brewing, most of which cost $7.99, will be marked up an additional $1 to $1.50 as of today.

The choice would be to change recipes, and to abandon Stone’s bold hop signature. Co-founder Greg Koch said that won’t be happening.

Koch insisted that the brewery’s regular lineup of beers, including Arrogant Bastard Ale, will remain as aggressively hopped as ever. But the Escondido brewery has been forced to make some changes.

Every summer, Stone issues an anniversary ale (the year marked by Roman numerals), a brew that typically reflects the company’s belief that hops are bitter and more hops are better.

Not this year. “That decision has been made for us,” Koch said. “It won’t be über-hoppy, as anniversary ales have been in the past.”

Rowe’s got more news from San Diego — hmmm . . . Pure Hoppiness — but also asks the elephant-in-the-room-question.

Will drinkers abandon Sierra Nevada, Green Flash, et al. for cheaper, mass-marketed beer?

Koch answers that question with a question.

“Or will they buy less? There are a lot of question marks out there.”

Hofbräuhaus Double Bock revisited

Gee, I wish I’d received the press release before we were in Las Vegas and I went looking for a doppelbock to try for The Session rather than a few days ago.

For the second straight year, the Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas is pouring a draft beer that is truly special – even by the standards of this beer hall that’s been redefining great-tasting beer for Las Vegans and visitors alike since 2004.

The Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas was able to obtain 50 kegs of this rare brew with the powerful punch (it contains 8% alcohol) and ultra smooth taste. Like all the Hofbräu beers served at Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas, this very special brew was imported fresh from Munich, Germany.

Made completely without preservatives, the Double Bock at Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas can be had only as long as the 50 kegs hold out – and it is a delicious treat not to be missed: this true Double Bock is made with a unique blend of pilsner and Munich malts, which eliminates bitterness, despite its higher alcohol content.

In addition, the Double Bock uses more hops in every batch than the other beers at Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas, and the beer is aged twice as long. The result? A surprisingly light-colored brew (compared to the dark, bitter mass-market American beers claiming to be “Double Bock”) that is amazingly smooth on the palate with a faint sweetness, which completely hides the fact that every delicious sip runs about 16 proof!

According to Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas president Stefan Gastager, Hofbräu Double Bock is more familiar to European beer drinkers; many Italians even use it as an aperitif, to whet the appetite before a meal. “Obviously, it is very special to be able to provide this great tasting beer with the storied history to our guests for a second year in a row,” Gastager said. “It’s not often that a beer of this magnitude is available in the United States; I invite everyone to come in and experience this great tasting brew while it lasts, but be careful this beer is very strong!”

. . . compared to the dark, bitter mass-market American beers claiming to be “Double Bock.”

Do you know of a Double Bock other than one from Samuel Adams? What kind of statement is the press release making about the doppelbocks brewed in Munich (where the style originated)?

Just trying to figure out whose bows are being shot across.

Barrels II: What’s the point?

Continuing last week’s discourse about barrel-aged beers the thought occurred to me I hadn’t bothered to mention why we even care. It’s not the the story behind any of these beers that matters first, but what’s in the glass. Some you would call spectacular, but there’s good reason to appreciate beers that gain extra complexity, nuance, structure, texture, etc. from wood without romping directly to spectacular.

You can’t polish a turd

If you’re not familiar with this term from my Midwestern youth you can probably figure out the meaning. Barrel-aging does not make a bad beer good. It does not necessarily make a good beer better, and may even make it worse.

Case in point: A few months after Goose Island introduced Bourbon County Stout in 1995 we were at Abita’s brewpub in Abita Springs, La., and they had Dickel Dog on tap (a draft-only experiment). It was something akin to a regular-strength brown ale aged in George Dickel bourbon barrels. Bourbon flavors totally overwhelmed the base beer. A beer that was likely perfectly good going into the barrel was, to my taste, no longer enjoyable.

And then there are the beers that were not particularly good going into wood . . .

So start with good beer

Think it’s chance that the two versions of Lost Abbey Angel’s Share (one from bourbon barrels, the other from brandy barrels) are the top two rated barley wines at Rate Beer? Or perhaps that the beers that went into the barrels were pretty exceptional.

BrewDog ParadoxAnother example would be Paradox from Scottish micro BrewDog. First shipments of BrewDog beers are due in the U.S. at the end of the month.

In less than a year BrewDog has grabbed attention for beers across the spectrum — both malt- and hop-centric &#151 and a certain attitude. “They’d be comfortable in San Diego,” one British judge at the Great American Beer Festival said.

For instance, the label for Punk IPA reads, “It is quite doubtful that you have the taste or sophistication to appreciate the depth, character and quality of this premium craft brewed beer.” And, “Just back back to drinking your mass marketed, bland, cheaply made watered down lager, and close the door behind you.”

To create Paradox, founders James Watt and Martin Dickie age a strong stout (Rip Tide, not quite a strong at 8% abv, won “Best Imperial Stout” in the Beers of the World competition) in whisky casks from Duncan Taylor.

The beers spend four to six months in wood. “Some types of casks instill the flavors quicker than others, we constantly monitor them and decide when they are ready,” Watt explained via e-mail. The version I had was aged in Islay casks, and some drinkers may find the intense blast of smoke, peat and even a bit of iodine startling when compared to beer from bourbon barrels.

But if you like distinctive Scotch whisky such as Laphroaig or Ardbeg then you’ll find that the stout rounds the whisky flavors left in the barrels and vice versa, creating something altogether new.

Finding balance (with wood)

So you see it can take a beer of some heft to stand up to the intensity of barrels that once held spirits. That’s not the direction every brewer chooses to go. For instance, Will Meyers of Cambridge Brewing near Boston lets barrels that once held bourbon dry out, then dehydrates them to avoid an impression of “heat” that can come with spirits.

Anyway, the DRAFT and Imbibe stories were about how brewers are finding flavors never previously associated with beer and there’s no need to repeat all of that here.

Instead a little more from Matt Trevisan, the winemaker at Linne Calodo Winery who helped set the blends for Firestone 10 and Firestone 11, because it’s a chance to look down another road available to brewers.

Trevisan was discussing how tannins from wood add to mouthfeel and the decisions that go into choosing a level of toast (that’s barrel talk) when he explained the idea of “dressing up the wine.”

Three months in wood will do that. “It jumps out of the mouth, the aromatics at the start and the impression at the finish,” he said. “It’s shorter in structure, but it jumps.”

That changes after six months in a barrel. “You’ll think that you’ve over-oaked it,” he said. “Then by 12 to 15 months it will integrate and soften. The impression of wood won’t be as strong.”

A lot to learn.