Beer on a human scale with a human face

Good Word Brewing, Duluth, GA

Brewing Industry Guide has posted something I wrote about hop terroir, available now for subscribers and later in print.

There are plenty of reasons why terroir is real, many of them science-based. That’s the core of this particular story.

There’s another aspect of the terroir conversation.

Exhibit A, from “Thirsty Work,” written by Michael Jackson for Slow magazine (the defunct magazine for the Slow Food movement) in 2002.

“Where drinks are grown, they seem a central element of life. When they are uprooted, they can lose context. It was in Britain that a combination of the Protestant work ethic and the world’s first industrial revolution created mass production, placing an ever-increasing distance between the cultivation of raw materials, the brewing of beer, and its consumption. In Britain, there is still a bruised fissure between country and town. The suddenness and brutality of the industrial revolution ripped food and drink from the soil, to the detriment of both.”

Exhibit B, from Sam Calagione’s keynote speech at the 2006 Craft Brewers Conference:

“Today wine is made all over the world but the magic and mystery of quality wine always seems to come down to place. The experts are always claiming that great wine can only be produced in exclusive places and in tiny quantities. They each preach the gospel of terroir. Holy land. Today there are almost 500 appellations, or micro-growing-regions in France alone. And there are numerous distinct terroirs within each of these appellations. It sounds confusing because it is. Divide and conquer. If you can’t blind them with science, blind them with geography. Je parl francais en peu and I’m pretty sure the translated definition of terroir is dirt. The wine world has wrapped this one word with mighty voodoo powers and created a cult of exclusivity around it.

“Breweries have terroir as well. But instead of revolving around a patch of land, ours are centered on a group of people. We operate our business on a human scale and with a human face. Today, between the constant media-blitz of advertising and marketing and the breakneck pace of production and distribution, it can be easy to overlook the passion of the person selling and that of the person buying. But it’s this shared human passion that has always fueled commerce; this opportunity to create extraordinary circumstances for the production and procurement of something new, exciting and worthwhile.”

A truth about Bud that ‘Pandora for beer’ once revealed

A couple of weeks ago at Good Beer Hunting, a story about the Tyranny of the Tickers and the pressure Untappd ratings exert on how beer is made and sold included was a reminder of the mini-empire that a company called Next Glass is building.

Head to its website to see it is parent to Untappd, BeerAdvocate, Hop Culture, and Oznr. So “next glass,” that sort of makes sense. Those apps and sites can help you with that. But had you visited the website six years ago you would have seen this.

Next Glass 2015 website

Next Glass 1.0, circa 2015, was something different. It was one of several drink recommendation apps that came and went about that time. Some got tagged as the “Pandora for beer.” For First Glass, that made sense because it took a scientific approach similar to Pandora when collecting data. Others were more like Spotify, that is using collaborative filtering. Netflix and Amazon are the best known services using that technology, which is based on the assumption that if two users enjoy overlapping sets of movies or books their tastes are probably similar.

In contrast, feature-based systems begin by measuring specific attributes of songs (or beers). Pandora created the Music Genome Project and employs musicians to catalog key elements of every song in its database.

Next Glass mapped the chemical makeup of individual beers, forgoing any effort to quantify a beer based on its descriptive characteristics. The app used an algorithm to blend the attributes of the beer in question with what it knew about each consumer and assigned a number predicting how much the consumer would like that beer.

Read more

Kentucky Common becomes GABF medal eligible

Phoenix Hill Brewery & Park
A mural in Louisville commemorates Phoenix Hill Brewery & Park. The brewery made plenty of lagers and also Phoenix Komon Beer.

Recall that when Michael Jackson wrote “The World Guide to Beer” in 1977 he listed 23 classic beer styles. The Brewers Association added four more to its already somewhat lengthier style guidelines Tuesday.

Perhaps Kentucky Common was the veterans committee’s choice.

I wrote quite a bit about this in “Brewing Local” (you should buy a copy) and also here in the blog. So I will keep this brief.

The beer was so specific to a place it could have been called Louisville Common rather than Kentucky Common. In 1909, a glowing description appeared in The Louisville Anzieger, a German-language newspaper. The translation:

“Beer has conquered the world. But one thinks . . . that this refers to lager beer. In Louisville, however, the beer drinker can enjoy double pleasure, as they can along with the lager beer enjoy the ‘common beer,’ a really great and increasingly popular product. It is a healthful, light, pleasant drink that people in other large American cities are for the most part unaware of. Perhaps its popularity, which it has always enjoyed here, would not be as great if, with improved brewing methods, better stuff had not become available.”

To this I’ll add something from Dibbs Harting, a homebrewer who was central to getting the history of Kentucky Common right, told me in 2015.

“I’m sure it was a fabulous bucket (growler) beer,”

Another Friday, another story about Covid-19 and the mystery of smell

This is your brain on hops

I often use this illustration when I am speaking to a group about hops and aroma. I also posted it here a few years ago. I call it “your brain on hops.”

Following up on last week’s post about Covid-19, loss of smell and catty IPAs there is this very long article from The New York Times Magazine. I don’t know how many words there are in the story, but it takes 50 minutes to listen to it.

It turns out that examining the impact of Covid-19 on aroma may help us understand both better. All the attention focused on anosmia, and parosmia, that results from Covid-19 has made more people appreciate the sense of smell. It has gone from a “bonus sense” to a dominant one.

Or as Brooke Jarvis writes: “Smell is a startling superpower. You can walk through someone’s front door and instantly know that she recently made popcorn. Drive down the street and somehow sense that the neighbors are barbecuing. Intuit, just as a side effect of breathing a bit of air, that this sweater has been worn but that one hasn’t, that it’s going to start raining soon, that the grass was trimmed a few hours back. If you weren’t used to it, it would seem like witchcraft.”

And I’ll be adapting these thoughts for my next presentation: “Genetics plus life experience, the natural attrition and regrowth of your epithelium (it may be that the more you smell an odor, the more receptors you develop that can perceive it), mean that 30 percent of your receptors may be different from those of the person next to you. Culture, too, plays a role: Whether you think lemon smells ‘clean’ or not may depend on whether you grew up associating it with cleaning products or with hot, overripe citrus groves.”

I’ve been busy with hop-related matters this week. As a consequence I’ve noticed more than one brewer listing “hand-selected hops” in their beers. “Nose-selected” sounds awfully strange, but it would be more accurate.

Smell training, for those who miss litter box IPAs

Because of Covid-19 I’ve dropped in on homebrew clubs meetings in every time zone in the country. And because of Covid-19 when I am (virtually) in Cincinnati or Kansas City or wherever and talk about anosmias I can almost see heads nodding beyond my computer screen.

(Should you not know, anosmia, that is loss of ability to smell, is a prominent sign of SARS-CoV-2 infection. The loss, in this case, may be total, but partial anosmias are not unusual in everyday life.)

This week, Wine Spectator columnist Robert Camuto wrote about “Getting Back My Nose After a COVID KO.” He lost his sense of smell for 14 days beginning Dec. 19 and figures he has about 20 percent back so far.

"What the Nose Knows"Looking for answers he turned to “What the Nose Knows: The Science of Scent in Everyday Life,” a book I found essential when writing about aroma in “For the Love of Hops” and one I recommend for anybody interested in unraveling the mysteries of our most complex sense.

Camuto eventually called author Avery Gilbert, who explained the upper nose has about 400 odor receptors. Covid-19 is believed to infect surrounding support cell tissue, shutting down the whole olfactory operation. As cells regenerate, smells return.

“It’s like when your Internet goes out and the router comes back on with those blinking lights,” Gilbert told him. “Like those lights, your receptors are coming back online, and which one comes on next is like pulling a number out of a lottery bucket.”

He suggested smell training to speed the recovery.

“Throughout the day, I spontaneously embark on smell-a-thons,” Camuto writes. “Last week, I was excited to pick up on the scents of the dried-out Christmas tree, lemon leaves (though not the lemon), WD-40, soap, wild thyme, burned match, buttery pastry and the anachronistic scent of a very old edition of Charles Dickens’ ‘The Old Curiosity Shop.’”

An aside. At the outset, Camuto writes, “Some odors I don’t miss at all. Like the cat box.” Curious to read from a wine writer, given that he probably knows Sauvignon Blanc well. And Sauvignon Blanc contains some of the same thiols, or sulfur compounds, as hops — such as Citra, Mosaic and Galaxy — popular in modern IPAs. Working in partnership with other compounds they help produce exotic aromas and flavors currently in style. In excess, and this may also happen in Sauvignon Blanc, they may smell catty. That’s the word you use in polite company instead of cat pee.

Call it destiny, but Bell’s Hopslam Ale arrived in Atlanta this week. This is a beer about which John Mallett, Bell’s Brewery vice president-operations, once said, “It smells like your cat ate your weed and then pissed in the Christmas tree.”

So my recommendation for your weekend pleasure is a copy of “What the Nose Knows” along with a glass of Hopslam.