Hop harvest time in Floyds Knobs, Indiana

I am a sucker for a story about hops where the headline begins with “Thank a farmer.”

Growing hops in Floyds Knobs, Indiana, about 20 miles northwest of Louisville, Kentucky, is not something people intent on getting rich quick are likely to do. There was a learning curve in starting Knob View Hops:

“Tim (Byrne, one of two partners) said he initially used some steel to make a makeshift trellis about 10 feet tall, thinking that would be sufficient for the plants. However, hop plants can grow about 20 feet high.

“So about three, four weeks into the growing season, they were over the top of it, and we still had a long time to go, so we welded on to it to make it taller, and these plants just grew like crazy.”

To their credit, they bought a picking machine even though they have a modest 590 plants. That’s few enough you could give them all names. The average farm in the Northwest harvests about 750,000 plants. Knob Views Hops plants are pictured at the top, and plants on a typical farm in the Yakima Valley on the bottom.

Knob View Hops Hop Yard

Perrault Farms hops

Anyway, I really hope that Knob View Hops gets its online store up and running so I can order a t-shirt.

The color of pilsner

The brewer describes which of these two beers as a Czech pilsner?

The color of pilsner

Wait for it.

(Suspenseful music playing.)

Wait for it.

Wait for it just a little more.

You probably figured out this is a trick question. Both are called “Czech pilsner.”

That’s Glass Castle Pilsener from Silver Branch on the left and Rocket Frog Žába on the right.

‘Wet river stones’ & other thoughts on tasting notes

This a take is from a wine guy, but perfectly relevant to beer:

“The best notes go back and forth, some sentences, some fragments, and this is right and proper.

“We are following the squirmings of an animated mind attempting to grope with the limitations of languages and with kinetic information that moves faster than it can be apprehended. Wine (Beer) doesn’t stay still on the palate! In fact the moment it enters the palate it starts to mingle with the taster’s saliva, and if the damn thing could just be inert for a second you might be able to say how it tastes. But it doesn’t work that way.

Ales Through the Ages registration opens

Ales Through the Ages

Martyn Cornell will be talking about the origin of pale ale, from Sumeria via Norway.

Ron Pattinson will discuss the transformative story of UK brewing during World War I.

Pete Brown is giving the keynote address.

In person, in Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, November 12-14.

Could there be a better reason to get vaccinated?

Registration is open now for 50 in-person attendees and an unlimited amount of virtual attendees. As more people are vaccinated, and travel and other restrictions ease, more in-person spots may open up. I certainly hope so. The first Ales Through the Ages in 2016 (read Cornell’s recap) would not have been as much fun without a larger audience.

Learn more about the conference here, links to register and the full list of speakers included.

(A bit of disclosure: I’ll be among the speakers, and the conference will pay for my travel and lodging, as well as providing an honorarium.)

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.”