beers of conviction

I want chickpeas in my hummus, not in my beer

Remains of the day, or thoughts that probably aren’t worth a post of their own:

– What’s going on with the agricultural ingredients for our beers, barley and hops. This is worth its own lengthy post, but until there’s time for that consider these links. We are talking concerns about quality and certainly higher prices — craft brewers are hesitant to discuss how much because they don’t want to be accused of price fixing, but at least $2 a case to distributors (meaning more to you and I) seems necessary. The links:

HopsRalph Olson of Hop Union discusses the 2007 hop crop. How grim is it? “The hop world is upside down. In the future we see the possibility of brewers shutting down for lack of hops.”

Sept. 19: An update from Pacific Brew News. Not all the hops news is bad.

The Czech view of the future of barley. Gate2Biotech reports that ongoing problems with growing barley has the brewing and malting research institute in Brno exploring the possibilities of utilizing crops such as chickpea, cowpea or sweatpea.

The Roast Garlic and Sun Dried Tomato Hummus at Chama River Brewing in Albuquerque, one of my locals, is a top-flight appetizer which goes with almost any of their beers you can see through. Chickpeas in hummus = good. Chick peas in beer = I feel no need to find out.

– Great quote from the world of alcoholic beverages. Fred Franzia, the man behind Two Buck Chuck, and how important soil is to the quality of wine: “We can grow on asphalt. Terroir don’t mean sh*t.”

– Maybe it was the campfire, but this food and beer pairing seemed perfect. Not sure when Amazon will start shipping The Best of American Beer and Food: Pairing & Cooking with Craft Beer but the book should be on the shelves soon and I’ll have a review sooner. Before you dig into that for a couple of hundred good ideas here’s one not in the book. From Saturday while camping in the Manzano Mountains:

Achel Extra and s’mores.

Yes, that simple.

Samuel Adams creates an ode to noble hops

Samuel Adams Hallertau PilsnerBack for a second time, Samuel Adams Hallertau Imperial Pilsner remains a beautiful — if big at 8.8% abv and 110 IBU — tribute to the Hallertau Mittelfrueh hop. Or Mittlefrüher as it is spelled in the Halltetauer region of Bavaria.

Lew Bryson already provoked a long enough discussion about calling it imperial pilsner, inspiring a nice treatise on balance by Stephen Beaumont. Consider those topics dealt with.

Instead, some answers to the question “Why?” The short answer is: “Mittelfrüh (Mittelfrueh)”

“We think they are the best hop in the world,” Boston Beer founder Jim Koch said when the 2005 vintage was released. “We wanted to showcase them. It is neat you can get all those flavors from one hop variety.”

Mittelfrueh aroma

Mittelfrueh Aroma

There’s a technical aspect to this you may already know. Or not. Basically, IBU stands for International Bitterness Units and an IBU is one part per million of isohumulone. Brewers calculate how much bitterness to expect based on the alpha acid percentage of particular hops, the amount of hops used and the utilization (length of boil is most important; there are other factors and let’s stop there).

The most efficient way to add bitterness is by using high alpha hops (with AA percentages ranging from the mid to high teens) This is true even for international lagers hopped below the threshold at which you can can taste hops. What isn’t efficient is using a low alpha hop like Mittelfrueh (3-5% AA).

In fact most international lagers include about two ounces of hops per barrel (31 gallons). Boston Beer uses one pound per barrel to make Boston Lager. The brewers tossed in 12 pounds per barrel (100 times the amount in an international lager) in the Halltertau Pilsner.

“Twelve pounds,” Koch said, sounding downright giddy. “While we were doing it Dave Grinnell (one of the brewers) referred to it as a reckless amount of hops.”

The brewers created several test batches, managing to come up with beers in which the IBU topped 140. That’s measured. Most of the time when you see a small brewery cite IBU it’s calculated. As the amount of hops increase efficiency drops dramatically and those calculations aren’t particularly accurate. Few Double (Imperial) IPAs actually reach the 90s when checked with proper measuring equipment.

The calculated IBU on the batches at Boston Beer were well above 300. “We were in the range where all bets were off,” Koch said. “You have to place it under an analyzer to get an accurate measure.”

He found the version in the 140s was too bitter, so the brewers blended in a 100 IBU batch and eventually found a sweet spot in the 110-115 range.

Mittelfrueh flavor

Mittelfrueh Flavor

The beer is cloudy — the brewers didn’t want to filter out the hop flavor, bless them — and doesn’t look particularly pilsner-like. The Mittelfrueh doesn’t come off as particularly delicate in this quantity — and matched against a solid one-two punch of malt and alcohol — but proves you can turn the flowery-citrussy-spicy hop flavor volume way up without the discordant impression you get from a cheap pair of speakers.

The illustrations here come from a book put together by the hop growers in Hallertau, and for it they commissioned panels to evaluate the intensity of both the aromas and flavors of their hops. Notice (above) how the hoppy/bitterness impression of Mittelfrueh changes from aroma to flavor.

“We don’t like it when the discussion about hops is focused only on alpha acids,” said Dr. Johann Pichlmaier of the Association of German Hop Growers. Once again skipping most of the geeky details, Mittelfrueh has a surplus of hop oils that help qualify it as a “noble” hop.

Koch agrees. “Hops are not primarily about IBUs. Hops are about a bounty of flavors,” he said. “With this beer your tongue is indelibly imprinted with the cornucopia of flavors you can get only from noble hops. There’s a reason brewers treasure these hops; a reason they cost more.”

First time around the brewery publicized the (crazy) bitterness units in the beer. This time there’s no mention of IBU.

That’s the right way to talk about hop flavor in general and Mittelfrueh in particular.

Does Voodoo brewer have the mojo?

Matt AllynCan he walk the walk?

He certainly can talk the talk. Listen to this from Matt Allyn, brewer of the Voodoo Brewery in Meadville, Pa., in a story from Bob Batz of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette:

“I never want to feel compelled to make more beer than I can personally touch.”

And . . .

“We want to keep it to the soul and to the heart.”

God bless him.

(End notes: Lew Bryson gives Voodoo his stamp of approval. And the photo is by Rebecca Droke of Post-Gazette – my apologies for cropping it.)

Can there be too much beer diversity?

The cheery headline at the News & Observer in North Carolina’s Triangle reads: Beer brewing bursts with new diversity. However, by the end we get cautionary words from Charlie Bamforth, chair of the department of food science and technology at the University of California, Davis, as well as the university’s Anheuser-Busch Endowed Professor of Brewing Science.

How many different beers are being made is anyone’s guess, but Bamforth isn’t happy with the growing number. He’d rather the trade stick to a few traditional styles of beer and explore variety within each, taking advantage of different regimes of hops and malts but avoiding the array of other ingredients and techniques being used today.

“I wish brewers would stay with a limited number of beer styles, and make the most of those, like the wine guys have done with their red, white and pink wines,” Bamforth says. “Let’s make ales, and then celebrate diversity within the ales, like with different hops. Let’s stop looking for the exotic.”

Loosen up, Charlie.

Yes, small-batch, and not-so-small, brewers need to keep their eye on the quality control ball – a common concern European brewers seem to express when they see a brewery or brewpub cooking up 30 or more different recipes over the course of a year. And we sure as heck shouldn’t rush to define any new styles (as in Imperial Hefeweizen).

But last year Will Meyers and assistant Megan Parisi cranked out 21 batches of a pumpkin ale at Cambridge Brewing in Massachusetts, each time spending about three hours prepping organic pumpkins for the mash. That’s a drop in the bucket compared to what Anheuser-Busch and Coors will sell in the way of pumpkin beer this year, but it represents what makes Cambridge – and small-batch brewers – different.

That’s one example. You readers – and perhaps Prof. Bamforth if he’d admit it – probably have a few of your own.

Lost Abbey barrel tasting: It’s a wrap

Barrel with beerOne of the many perks – beyond watching a roadrunner pace up and down the burm outside my office window right now, not quite sure what his plan is – of living where I do is that I know that the New Mexico Rio Grande Valley is not the Best.Beer.Region.On.Earth.

They worry about such things in Philadelphia (see here and here) and Portland (do I have to type Oregon?) and San Diego.

I don’t have to. Thus I can claim to be impartial. So I’m declaring that in many years when somebody writes a book about the history of artisan beer in America they’ll want notes from the evening of Aug. 25 at Lost Abbey Port Brewing (near San Diego, for those of you participating in the regional wars), because the first Lost Abbey barrel tasting was a watershed event.

Steve at Summer of Beer has a really solid account. I’m impressed how lucid his notes are to the end, including dessert and the final beers. Read it at your own risk – you’ll want to reserve a spot next year.