Allstair Reese has posted the roundup for The Session #99: Localising Mild.
It is reminder to find yourself a beer from a brewery participating in American Mild Month. I haven’t yet.
Also, be on the lookout for Reuben Gray’s official announcement about the topic (the preview: it “will be about lost/almost forgotten beer styles”) for the June Session. After all, it will be No. 100.
Session #99 host Allstair Reese has asked us to write about localizing mild ale on the first day of American Mild Month. His question: “How would you localise mild? What would an Irish, Belgian, Czech, or Australian Mild look like? Is anyone in your country making such a beer? For homebrewers, have you dabbled in cross-cultural beer making when it comes to mild?”
The latest working title for my book in progress is “Brewing Local” (there will eventually more words attached) and the focus is on American ingredients, so this should be a task I can wrap my head around. But I can’t.
Yes, you can point to examples of American brewers starting from some classic style and turning it into something distinctively American, that sometimes that retains the name of the original style and sometimes becomes something altogether new. Maybe that will happen with mild — American Mild Month seems full of potential (just look at the list of participating breweries) — and I’ll think, “Oh, yeah, that should have been obvious.”
But there’s also the possibility that a beer can remain just like, allowing for the fact that nothing is just like, the original and still become local. I wish I could point to a mild as an example, but I’m going to use a German weissbier instead. Urban Chestnut Brewing here in St. Louis brews an outstanding version — it just landed near the top of one of those silly online lists. You might even say it tastes just like one you’d drink in Germany, that it rouses a pleasant memory. I can’t disagree, but for me it tastes, and smells, of St. Louis. It’s a Sunday afternoon at UCB’s Midtown biergarten or the first beer I have on a hot July night at Busch Stadium, before I begin the long march up to the cheap seats.
Local beer becomes local when it is part of the local fabric.
Host Allstair Reese has announced the topic for Session #99: Localising Mild. Or “Localizing Mild” depending on what is local for you.
He explains:
“Each May CAMRA in the UK encourages drinkers to get out and drink Mild Ales. This May is the first, as far as I am aware, American Mild Month, which has 45 breweries, so far, committed to brewing mild ales. Of those 45 breweries some are brewing the traditional English dark and pale mild styles, while a couple have said they will brew an ‘American Mild’, which American Mild Month describes as:
“a restrained, darkish ale, with gentle hopping and a clean finish so that the malt and what hops are present, shine through
“An essential element of the American Mild is that it uses American malts, hops, and the clean yeast strain that is commonly used over here. Like the development of many a beers style around the world, American Mild is the localisation of a beer from elsewhere, giving a nod to the original, but going its own way.
“That then is the crux of the theme for The Session in May, how would you localise mild? What would an Irish, Belgian, Czech, or Australian Mild look like? Is anyone in your country making such a beer? For homebrewers, have you dabbled in cross-cultural beer making when it comes to mild?”
The Session #99 will be called to order May 1.
Host Nathan Pierce has asked contributors to write about Cans or Bottles for The Session #98?
A dozen years ago Oscar Blues founder Dale Katechis was pretty much out their on his own, advocating that small breweries could package their beers in cans. His was Dale’s Pale Ale. He turned out to be right and his empire just keeps growing.
At the time, I had this question for him: “What about the aroma (hops and malt) you that we expect and enjoy from a beer like this?”
And he had this answer: “Well, no, not directly from the can. I tell people, when I drink a LaChouffe, I don’t drink it right from a bottle. I pour it into a glass. People see the can and think they need to drink right from it. You’d never drink a full-flavored beer from a bottle. This is a better, safer package than a bottle. It’s draft beer in a mini-keg, and you don’t drink draft beer right from a full-size keg.”
It hasn’t exactly worked out like that. People drink Heady Topper and La Cumbre Elevated IPA directly from cans. I’m a fan of beer in cans done right (they still don’t make bad beer or badly packaged beer better) for all the reasons you are bound to see elsewhere today. But I’m also a fan of beer aroma, and I’m not inclined to want to stick my nose up to that half-inch wide opening in the can and inhale deeply. That would definitely be fussing.
Granted, hop aromas (citrus, resiny, fresh berries) burst out of that opening when you pop open 21st Amendment’s Down to Earth Session IPA. It tastes fine right out of the can. But it has more aroma and flavor poured into a glass. It is more complex, yet at the same time seems less demanding. That makes for a good session beer, with aroma and flavor when you want to pay attention, but not so needy that you can’t keep paying attention and instead can do something else, like engage in conversation.
Host Nathan Pierce has posted the topic for The Sessions #98: Cans or Bottles? It is pretty simply:
What’s your perspective?
Will you write from the consumer point of view? From which kind of packaging do you prefer to drink beer? Why do you prefer that packaging?
Will you write from a manufacturer perspective? How do you want your brand portrayed? Which packaging suits your beer best?
Will you write from a distributors perspective? Which packaging do you prefer to transport and stock at retail locations?
Hope to read what you have to say on April 3.