When rare ceases to be rare

The assistant managing editor in charge of being cranky at the last newspaper where I worked used to have a note posted on a bulletin board in his office: “All boldface is no boldface.”

For instance, consider just one entry today at beernews.org. Four more rare beers, including one (Brooklyn Sorachi Ace) brewed with now-rare hops. Good breweries all; undoubtedly good beers. And even if we never taste these beers good things may result — when I was at Stone Brewing a few months ago brewmaster Mitch Steele and I talked about how much he learns during one of these collaborative projects.

But I can’t help but remember that quote attributed to Goethe (though I suspect it was made up). At some point being rare ceases to be rare.

#42 – Where in the beer world?

Where in the beer world?

Think you know where in the beer world this photo was taken?

Leave your answer as a comment. Also feel free to add a comment simply because the picture inspires you.

A hint? This is a spot mentioned in the “Ten beery things to do in Germany without visiting Oktoberfest” written for All About Beer magazine. A second hint? Wheat beers.

 

The $1 million book, wine included

You may have seen mention in various blogs about an upcoming book, called “1001 Beers You Must Try Before You Die.” To the best of my knowledge (based on the fact I’ve written the profiles on a few of the beer included) each beer will get its own page. That makes for a fat book.

But nothing like the upcoming the 66-pound, $1 million wine guide Decanter reports will be published next year. The Wine Opus will list the world’s top 100 wineries. That’s not a typo: $1 million. Because . . . every purchaser of the book will also receive a six-bottle case of wine from every one of the 100 wineries listed.

So that’s 600 bottles of wine for $1 million, less whatever value you put on the book itself. But still about $1,667 a bottle. I’m pretty sure you could acquire every one of the choices in “1001 Beers” for less than $1 million, given that would be an average of $999 a bottle.

 

No hops, no glory

Marble Brewery hat SessionGuess I should have thought of this before we started our adventure.

I could have packed a bottle of locally produced India Pale Ale and hauled it around for 14 months, in the RV, on the plane to and from Europe, in our leased car. More than 60,000 miles, lots of bumping about, plenty of temperature changes. Then in August I would have opened that bottle and compared it to a fresh one from the same brewery. Not as epic has Pete Brown’s journey, but probably worth a blog post.

Just two problems. I only just thought of this. Bigger still, when we left on our trip no local brewery packaged an IPA. That changed when the Marble Brewery in Albuquerque started bottling.

I did bring a Marble hat with me. So it’s been to 49 states, 9 Canadian provinces and territories, and 17 countries. It traveled on my head at the outset — those who know me well understand I am legally obligated to wear a cap because of damage the glare might otherwise cause — but as the trip wore on the hat started to look a little weary. When Sabine Weyermann of Weyermann Malting in Bamberg, Germany, got a look at it she quickly outfitted me with a new Weyermann cap.

To tell the truth, that one is also starting to show some wear and tear. Maybe I’ll let the Marble one out of the back of the RV for the triumphant ride back into New Mexico.

 

Historic IPA: Filtered, pasteurized?

I’m taking my time reading Hops and Glory, enjoying each page and reading some of them twice. So it may be a while before you get a review out of me. You’ll find early returns at the link above, as well as Stephen Beaumont’s take here.

I’m a little surprised that nobody has mentioned (though in fairness Adrian Tierney-Jones sort of does in passing) this most interesting statement:

“(Eighteenth century) IPA was more similar to a modern filtered and pasteurized beer than it was to traditional cask ale.”

Given a certain predisposition among beer lovers that filtration and pasteurization are modern and bad and that Brown and Martyn Cornell have established everything your mother taught you about IPA is wrong mighty interesting statement indeed.