Do you talk to your beer collection?

Do you feel this way about your beer?

The New York Times has a story today about Park B. Smith, one of the world’s great wine collectors. His cellar covers 8,000 square feet and holds more than 65,000 bottles (half of them magnums). It has a full kitchen, bath and living room.

This question at the top arises from this lovely paragraph:

“I’ve had a crummy week, I just come down here for a few hours and talk to my bottles,” Smith said, giving voice to the desires of frustrated wine lovers everywhere. Linda (his wife) said, “That’s all right, as long as they don’t start talking back to you.”

But of course they should.

Added an hour later: Why it’s great when newspaper reporters can blog. The story Eric Asimov could do about the cellar is limited by the constraints of print, even when print goes online. In his blog he writes about “the journey we had taken together” – lunch, the wines, mostly the conversation.

What to call our beer blogging day

Jay Brooks added this comment yesterday to call the call for a beer blogging day. he was referring to an early round of e-mails where some of us discussed the logistics of doing this, including what it might be called.

First, from Jay.

For a name, what about:

1. Fermentation Friday
2. First Friday Fermentation
3. Firkin Friday
4. Frickin’ Firkin Friday
5. Frothy Friday
6. Monthly Malty Musings
7. Monthly Mash-In

Rick Lyke also suggested Firkin Friday. Literlalist that I can be I worried that implies you’d have to go out and find a beer on cask, or perhaps drink only English-inspired beers.

But although I’m hosting the first round, this is a group event with different hosts each month. So if you have an opinion about the name feel free to make a suggestions. I like several of Jay’s ideas.

The default name has been Beer Blogging Friday (Jon Abernathy thinks that is fine, BTW).

Congratulations, Ballast Point

Hop fieldEnough about session beers, at least for the moment. Let’s get back to hops.

Jay Brooks has the results of the Bistro’s 7th (yes, seventh, this is no fad) Double IPA Festival in Hayward, Calif.

The winner was Dorado Double IPA from Ballast Point Point Brewing, an old friend. We go back to when it was called Crystal Pier and was already winning at the Bistro’s festival.

In 2003 the guys at Ballast were nice enough to put some of Cyrstal Pier into 22-ounce bottles (they sold it only on draft) and ship it to New Mexico. The American Society of Brewing Chemists gathered in a resort north of Albuquerque for their annual convention and I helped Mitch Steele – then of Anheuser-Busch, now with Stone Brewing – round up beers for a seminar on styles.

At that time almost none of the 30-plus brewing industry employees in the room had ever had an “Imperial IPA” (or were ready for other beers like New Belgium’s La Foile and Cuvee de Tomme).

It was an eye-opening experience for me. These guys (meaning men and women) are focused. Many worked for the world’s largest brewers or companies that supply them. They are worried about shelf life, foam stability, stuff like that. No detail is too minute. And they can spot off flavors, and tell you why they are there, at perhaps three miles away.

We asked them to provide comments about the beers they tasted and I just drug those out of a file. I started out looking only at the Ballast Point beer, and that’s all I’ll write about today, but soon was reading more. Within the week I’ll post more notes about some of the other beers.

Only seven of the 28 who left comments said they’d buy Cyrstal Pier in a store.

One wrote: “Tongue scraper requested. Malt is still good.”

On the other side (and I know this was from somebody who worked in packaging at A-B): “Multitudes of flavor! Awesome – I love this new style.”

Maybe my favorite: “‘Savage’ flavor but not taste. Hoppy. Hoppy. Hop. Hop.”

You get the point.

Desert island beers II

Still thinking about Alan McLeod’s contest when I should be working, which also means without a beer in hand to influence my thinking.

So the today’s one word thought: Hops. (Yesterday’s was “saison” – these don’t have to be exclusive).

But I also did a quick search to see what Michael Jackson might have written about this. I knew he did a list on the World Beer Hunter CD-ROM, but you can’t Google that. Anyway, I came across this in a 1993 column in wich he laments Guinness marketing decisions.

I would want a Bavarian wheat beer to quench my thirst on a hot day, a Bohemian lager to accompany the fish I would catch on my desert island, a British ale to go with the wild animals I would barbecue and a barley wine to intoxicate me when I longed for escape.

But one glass of the Dublin stout and I would be transported from my desert island to a pub where the glistening black of the beer reflected the brass barrails, the polished mirrors and mahogany … Two glasses and I would begin to enjoy my own company, three, and I would find myself as entertaining as Joyce, Wilde or O’Casey.

Seems like a fair standard to set for our desert island beers.

And if you can find a beer that will help me write a few paragraphs of similar quality please let me know.

When the context is a desert island

Having not been asked for two days what the heck Appellation Beer means I’m able to once again put off adding that explanation to About the Site.

SandBut I will write that one thing I want it to mean is that context makes a difference. Before you fire off another what the heck question, look at the contest Alan McLeod has invented at A Good Beer Blog. It illustrates the value of context.

Desert island beer lists. They’ve be around forever. A thread at Realbeer.com still lives after two years and is up to 10 pages. Fun to look at, but I’ve never been tempted. Really, and not just because even if you put a gun to my head I couldn’t list my five favorite beers.

But this contest has context.

Instead of just any old three bottles, put one of the beers a keg that never goes dry or sours and the other two in bottles, one of which you can access on Friday in reasonable volume and one you can access on Sunday in a contemplative amount. In my life, I expect to be stuck on that Island a good long time and, yet, expect to maintain regular work week and also my northern European vague religiosity.

Fun to think about (over a beer), so I’m going to come up with an entry. You should too.

One pre-beer thought for now. Saison.