The Session #10: Great Divide Hibernation

The SessionWelcome to The Session #10, hosted this month by Ted at Barley Vine. The theme “Let it snow, let it snow, Winter Seasonal Beers” does not leave us wanting for choices.

Lest there be any doubt: Don Russell offered a combined history lesson/shopping list last week, a Baltimore Sun panel tasted a whopping 52 winter beers, and you’ll find many more lists on the Internet (here, here and here – for starters).

Clearly there isn’t enough time to drink all the beers, and we should accept that it is a good thing so many are local and will be drunk not far from where they were brewed. But I do sort of miss the days when it was sport just to find enough “Christmas beers” to keep us interested through the season.

The choice for today isn’t the winter beer we’ll drink most of &#151 that would be Sierra Nevada Celebration &#151 nor is it one that is so hard to find or expensive, say De Ranke Père Noël, that we’ll likely have just one during the season. Great Divide Hibernation is a favorite and a regular, one we associate with full winter season because for several years we had to wait until January and a trip to Colorado to play in the snow before we could find it.

Great Divide Hibernation AleOnly in the last couple of years has been Hibernation been available in New Mexico, although other Great Divide beers have been around since we moved here in 1998. But there still wasn’t a year we failed to track some down.

It’s arrival in New Mexico pretty much coincided with the attention afforded beers such as Titan IPA, Hercules Double IPA and Oak Aged Yeti Imperial Stout. A little “beer cred” never hurts.

At 8% abv, Hibernation is no small beer. It’s won awards as a Strong Ale/English-Style Old Ale and is described at the beer rating sites as an American Strong Ale. I think calling it a Winter Warmer and spending zero time fretting about style suits it fine.

It’s equally enjoyable when it first becomes available (Great Divide brews it in July but doesn’t release the first batch until November) or after a year in our “cellar” (no bottle has made it to two years). My first thought is always the same: “How is this different than last year? It is, I think, but that was a year ago, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Despite its heft, Hibernation is brewed with the same sensibility &#151 call it continental restraint, or appreciation of balance &#151 I find in all the Great Divide beers, even the ones coveted by those chasing “extreme beers.”

It’s at its best in a small tulip glass or snifter, because it’s a beer to linger over and new aromas will emerge as it warms. Lots of chocolate and spice early, with roasty character (both nuts and hints of coffee beans) on the nose and in the mouth. Caramel and dark fruits, also, their sweetness are nicely balanced by an earthy/husky mouthfeel.

Ted promised extra credit for a food pairing or recipe. Quite honestly, we like this beer on its own, maybe with a fire. But after active day in the snow (and at altitude) Hibernation and a plate of cheese (be sure to have a nutty gouda in there) make a dang fine dinner.

A good night’s sleep is guaranteed.

Beer Fantasy Dinner #10: Eric Delia

Eric DeliaFor more about what this is part of look here.

Eric Delia may be be relatively new to blogging, but has some interesting things to say — check out the post titled A Disturbing Trend. I’m hitting the road for a few days, but had to post this first because . . . Levi Stubbs and Bell’s Kalamazoo Stout, how brilliant is that?

You find the full length Fantasy Dinner here, but Eric also has a slightly shorter version for us CliffsNotes types.

In case you forgot, the questions are: If you could invite four people dead or alive to a beer dinner who would they be? What four beers would you serve?

1. Bernardo O’Higgins – One of the leaders of the Chilean War of Independence that was fought against colonial power Spain. Seems like an interesting and controversial historical figure that would be worth having around, if only to give his perspective on the time period and his struggle to defeat an imperial army. Since I’m somewhat of a history buff, I think he’d be a fine candidate for this soiree.

Beer: Kross Stout, modeled on an Irish Stout and made by a microbrewery in Chile, which I think would suit this guest’s tastes, seeing as how he’s half-Irish.

2. Bill Shankly – Liverpool FC’s most famous manager, who triumphed to bring the team from the lower rungs of the Second Division to the top of the First, and brought a slew of championships during his tenure as well. Shankly came across as a tough but stand-up guy who loved the game of football (soccer) and had an honorable and admirable approach to it, too. The table needed a prominent sports figure, and he’s one that immediately came to mind.

Beer: Traquair Jacobite, in honor of his Scottish roots and because it’s an all-around damn good beer in the first place, something I think Bill would appreciate.

3. Levi Stubbs – Lead singer of the R&B group The Four Tops, whose ability to sing out of his range lent the group’s songs a sense of urgency and liveliness. He’d bring vivacity to the conversation, plus a bit of cool and some culture to our group. I’m also a fan of all different kinds of music, so it was tough to pick one person to sit in that spot, but Levi was one of the first that I thought of. I think he’d be a great guest.

Beer: Bell’s Kalamazoo Stout, seeing as how both he and the beer are from Michigan, and I just think cool people would naturally migrate toward a quality Milk Stout like that. Either that or a Sam Adams Boston Lager; simple yet satisfying, with a laid-back flavor profile that the cool crowd would also enjoy, I guess.

4. My paternal great-grandfather – An immigrant from Croatia (then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire), he came to America in 1901 and worked on the Pacific Railroad. Made it all the way out West, into Washington (prime hop country) and then to northern California. He owned a small farm where he made my grandfather walk to the market with eggs or produce to sell. Back on the farm, they would make their own homemade wine, even during the days of Prohibition.

Beer: Victory Prima Pils or Budweiser Budvar. I picked the two because I think a German or Czech Pilsener would suit him well, even though he was more of a wine guy. Something crisp and refreshing may remind him of time in Europe as a young man, perhaps getting a hold of a Bohemian offering or two in his day. Nevertheless, to be able to talk to this man about the trials and tribulations he faced by starting a whole new life in a completely different country would be fascinating to me. Sure, many families may be able to tell a similar tale, but that’s what makes this quintessential American success story a classic.

Book review: To Cork or Not To Cork

To Cork or Not To CorkAs you might be able to tell from the full title of “To Cork or Not To Cork: Tradition, Romance, Science, and the Battle for the Wine Bottle,” author George Taber is a wine guy.

He happens to have been the Time magazine correspondent who attended the 1976 event that turned out to be known as “Judgment of Paris.” If he hadn’t been there the results wouldn’t have been as widely known and the ascension of American wine might have been delayed. Just a couple of years ago he wrote a thoroughly entertaining book about the tasting, appropriately titled “Judgment of Paris: California vs. France and the Historic 1976 Paris Tasting That Revolutionized Wine.”

So why would beer drinkers find this book interesting?

First, we’re enjoying more beers from bottles sealed with corks. The wine industry estimates that between 3 percent and 10 percent of corks suffer from “taint,” exuding musty aromas that at all but the lowest levels begin to ruin flavor. TCA (2,4,6-trichloroanisole) doesn’t discriminate. It will happily muck up the flavor of beer as well as wine.

Taber writes, “In the entire world, only a few sounds bring joy to all but the most jaded. One is the purring of a kitten. Another is the thwack of a well-pitched baseball hitting a perfectly swung bat. And the third is the pop of a cork being pulled from a bottle of wine.”

If you’d be inclined to substitute the word “beer” in that last sentence, then you may have already felt the pain of opening a 1985 Jereboam of Chimay Grand Reserve to discover a distinct impression of “wet dog” that can even make beer undrinkable.

Second, Taber has an eye for interesting detail and knows how to tell a story. His passion shows in his research, whether it is the history of cork growing and production or the search for alternatives closures, and his journalistic training in the way he explains all this.

“To Cork or Not To Cork” also examines the balance between art and science, commerce and tradition, romance and just-plain-snobbery. All in the context of wine, of course, but these topics are just as relevant to Beer, Not the Commodity.

Taber writes there is much more for wine scientists to consider and for wine consumers to learn. There certainly are analogies here with beer, although in this case we’re not talking about bottle closures.

For instance, before starting research on “Brew Like a Monk” I asked brewers what sort of questions they’d like to see answered. “Fermenter geometry” was at the top of many lists. Turns out that most of the research on fermenter geometry, like most brewing research, has focused on the production of lagers in large vessels. No surprise since those beers account for more than 90 percent of beer sold.

As a more brewers produce more beers of a different ilk scientists will have reason to analyze what they are doing. The question of “to cork or not to cork” likely won’t inspire the extreme positions taken by some in this debate, but perhaps there will be another one that does.

Fantasy Beer Dinner #9: Tomme Arthur

Port Brewing/Lost Abbey brewmaster Tomme Arthur writes it took him a week to come up with the guest list for his Fantasy Beer Dinner.

– William Shakespeare (that makes two votes for The Bard, leaving him neck-and-neck with Martin Luther)
– Adolphus Busch
– Brian Wilson
– Thomas Jefferson

Tomme’s got all the details at his Brewer’s Log.

Fantasy Beer Dinner #8: Alan McLeod

Alan McLeod, Mr. Beer BlogFor more about what this is part of look here.

Alan McLeod has been writing about beer at A Good Beer Blog since 2003, “allowing the world to follow the highs and lows of his beery education in real time.” In addition to writing a few articles for trade magazines, this year he was asked to join in the writing of “Beer & Philosophy,” contributing a chapter entitled “Beer and Autonomy” that asks one question: why the heck is the law of beer like it is? In the rest of his life he is dad and husband, foster dad and sports fan and in-house municipal lawyer in just about that order.

In case you forgot, the questions are: If you could invite four people dead or alive to a beer dinner who would they be? What four beers would you serve?

It’s a funny thing about me and all this writing I’ve done about beer as, while it is as convivial a thing in life there is, for me it is a bit of a solitary obsession – me, my computer and a cold room in the basement filled with beer. If I am honest, my interests and influences are more English than North American but I seem to be far more fascinated by the great craft beers of America than anything I have had from elsewhere. That may be the classic Canadian compromise.

1. David Line. This 1960s-70s star of the UK home brewing scene was my introduction to making my own beer and appreciating the great beers out there waiting for me. I find the pre-Jacksonian, pre-CAMRA era of beer writing refreshing in that there was much individuality but no hint of snobbery. Recipes were as likely to be for a beet beer as an authentic imperial stout on the wood and the writing was plain. Line’s writings speak of a genial soul, happy to teach and happy not to be that worried about modern concerns for weekly units or extreme beer. I think he would make an excellent table companion.

Beer: cask London Pride, circa 1978, his desert island beer according to his Brewing Beers Like Those You Buy published in that year.

2. Timothy Finn: author of the 1975 book Pub Games of England. I have this idea that drinking beer was more of a side aspect to the life of an English pub compared to the other activities that went on. Being able to go to a pub and hurl massive round wooden cheese at stout pins in a game of London Skittles or playing an elegant if mantis-like game of lawn billiards would surely over-whelm the finer points of the chosen malt or hop in this bitter or that.

Beer: local ordinary bitter on cask, a 3.2% drink that would leave the lawn billiards cue steady.

3. Martyn Cornell. I wanted to pick one contemporary beer writer and I could have picked any one of many but I picked Martyn due to his incredible obsession to both detail and accuracy. His blog, The Zythophile, displays a commitment to drilling down to the actual while following stories not covered by the pack. I wonder how much Line and Finn would be able to teach him?

Beer: I have no idea but maybe a good thick 1700s West Country white beer as a stand alone first course would get the conversation going.

4. The me of 1985 when I was 22. Fresh out of undergrad I think I recollect that I knew a bit about beer but I was too obsessed with the nightlife in Halifax to take advantage of the opportunities to the point that when I went to Belgium in 1986, I stuck to Guinness. Sad. One evening of Line, Finn and Cornell would have given the him that was me a great head start in this interest of mine.

Beer: Just one draft Keith’s followed by a range of Belgian dubbels just to teach the ignorant wee mopey bastard good from bad.

More Fantasy Beer Dinners.