Building Coalitions Through Homebrewing
This mess should result in a good beer. The blog post probably will not result in anything good.
Disclaimer: From time to time, I have a great idea for a post on this blog. However, my execution fails to deliver. This post had promise, but it lacks focus. I start out by making a case for homebrewing being an integral part of coalition building only to suddenly delve into homebrew geekery. For this, I apologize. Read this if you like or wait for Wednesday’s post which should be better.
I am a homebrewer. I’m not this guy, but I brew my own concoctions from time to time[1]. I typically do extract brews. That’s all I’m committed to at the moment. Still, I can make a pretty tasty beer brewing with extract malt instead of using an all-grain system[2].
Homebrewing was added to my long list of hobbies partly as a way to demystify the brewing process and partly to be able to hold my own in beer discourse. I’ve never done it for financial reasons. Lord knows I blow the budget with extra malt and hops, but that’s fine. I want to like the beer I brew and it’s worked out fine so far.
What people don’t realize about homebrewing is that it can be a rather social practice. A friend taught me how to brew in his kitchen. In the process, we polished off several beers – homebrewed and professionally brewed – as various folk stopped by to check and see what was happening. I’ve had people over for brewing and bottling sessions and have attended such get-togethers when other dudes brew. And at every brew day, there’s beer consumed.
For this latest batch, I wanted to try a style that’s taken the brewing community by storm: the Cascadian black ale. Some refer to this it as a “black IPA” which makes no sense. How can you be “black” and “pale?” By naming it “Cascadian black ale,” the Northwest (in particular Oregon) are laying claim to the style. This doesn’t sit well with me either. There’s nothing I hate in my beer more than marketing. Others call it an “Indian black ale.” I prefer to call the style a “black bitter.” Of course, if you want anyone to know what you’re talking about, you call it a “black IPA.”
A black bitter is basically an IPA with a darker malt profile, typically picking up the roasted and sweet flavors of the malt to balance out the bitter fruitiness of the hops. At worst, the style is a little bit of everything we like in our dark and hoppy beers, pairing deliciously with hamburgers and pizzas, to name a few. It’s a versatile style that fits nearly any mood. At best, it’s an amazing conglomeration of bitter, citrus, pine, roastiness, and even chocolate. The best of the style somehow balance the sweet and bitter while blasting your senses with hops.
My black bitter is called “Big Black Bitter,” in honor of math-rock originators Big Black[3]. I haven’t done this in a while, but I created the label on the left for the 22 0z. bottles I plan to fill in a couple of months. The recipe is here, and you can probably tell that it should be a hop-bomb. My hope is that the malt profile matches, even compliments the intensity of the hops.
So, Saturday was brew day. The specialty grains steeped for 20 or 30 minutes, filling the house with a hot cocoa aroma[4]. I moved on to the boil and added the first portion of extract along with 2 ounces of Chinook in order to put the bitter in this beer[5]. At this point, the kitchen smelled like a chocolate pine forest. I knew something was right… Simcoe… Centennial… Citra… Amarillo…
As I moved through my process, buddies came by to watch, give advice, and even help a little. We sipped on a homebrewed dubbel that was all bananas[6], a couple of Ska’s Modus Hoperandi[7], and a New Belgium/Allagash Vrienden[8]. Hop schedules were debated and assistance was given when dealing with the sludgy hop flowers at the bottom of my brew pot (see above).
It was decided that to balance out the bitterness of the Chinook and roasted malt, I needed to hold onto an extra two ounces of hops for dry-hopping[9]. I’ll dry-hop with a Cascade/Citra mix in the secondary and Simcoe/Amarillo in the thridary[10]…
Wait, have I lost you yet?
The point was that this hop schedule was determined as I went along and the three of us were able to discuss options and that would benefit the beer most. The nose is both the most important aspect and first feature to fade in a homebrew. The excessive dry-hopping should overcome this unfortunate side-effect of the homebrew. Lots of hops at the end will insure a piny/fruity aroma to balance out the roastiness of the malt.
Eventually, my beer found its way into a carboy with some yeast. Now, the waiting begins as the yeast does its job by eating the sugars in the beer and spitting out alcohol. Eventually, this should be a great example of a black IPA and possibly even a fine tribute to Big Black.
Homebrewing encourages creativity, community, and patience. The end result is a beer one can be proud of. I’ll let you know how it turns out. Stay tuned…
Notes:
1Not often lately, but I feel a resurgence. I’ll finish this batch, collaborate on a couple more before doing another of my own in the coming months.
2Simply put, brewers typically make beer by processing grains, hops, water, and yeast. The work they do with the grains to make it fermentable is done for you when you use extract. It cuts some significant time and equipment from the process.
3I actually not much of a fan of Big Black nor math-rock. However, founder Steve Albini has recorded just about every meaningful record of the past 20 or so years. He’s had an incredible amount of influence on music and is under-appreciated. The least I can do is make a beer in his honor.
4These are for flavor and color. Right away, the water took on a black look, making the appearance of the beer match expectations.
5Chinook smells like it should be an incredibly bitter hop. I look for this beer to be heavy on the bitter side, which suits me well.
6Beer geeks will describe a beer as tasting like raisins or bananas. It’s cliched and imprecise, but it works.
7This beer’s quickly replacing Bell’s Two-Hearted Ale as the go-to beer in Middle Missouri. Pine forest in a can.
8Oddly enough, this beer has not been available in this part of Missouri. I grabbed a couple of bottles in Kansas City several weeks back and tried it on tap. It’s a fantastic Belgian-style sour; balanced with just enough sweetness. It has been one of my favorite beers of the last few months. Too bad it didn’t reach town. I still have one bottle left. Now, with whom will I share it?
9“Dry-hopping” always sounds like “dry-humping” to me. God. I miss dry-humping. I guess I miss college.
10I know that it’s tertiary, but I couldn’t resist calling the third occurrence “thirdary.”
Does Size Matter?
Boy, I can’t wait to see the spam this post attracts…
A hot topic in beer circles is that the Brewers’ Association has redefined “small” in order to keep one of their charter members, the Boston Beer Company (Sam Adams), under the label “craft beer brewer.” Sam Adams is huge, but they don’t produce nearly as much beer as the big industrial producers of rice adjunct swill do. Sam Adams founder Jim Koch once joked about how Budweiser or some beer producer like that spills more beer in a year than his brewery sells all together.
So, the move to redefine “small” makes sense. Sam Koch’s baby is all growns up, but she ain’t anything like the rice kings of beer. Still, Sam Adams doesn’t taste like it used to and this is probably related to the growth in Koch’s company. By Boston Beer growing bigger, it has giving up on some of its quality, not like the big brewers, but the change is palpable. Still, the BA needs a major player on its roster. It needs a company with the capital to pay for lobbyists and keep the craft brewing portion of the market vocal in DC. As long as the rest of the craft beer community stays small, Boston Beer Company will need to stay within the parameters of craft brewing.
For the BA’s purposes, size matters. They need a major player in Washington, in the industry. They need some muscle to take on the non-craft beer sector. Despite changing what it means to be labeled as “craft beer,” cheapening what it means to be craft, AB did what they had to do.
For Sam Adams/Boston Beer, size also matters. Growth is important for the company’s stability. The more beer they sell, the more profits they make. More profits fuel that growth. That growth dilutes the product. Still, they’re technically a craft brewing company.
Both BA and Boston Beer have paid a price to retain their status in the industry. The cost they pay is a hefty one. For the BA, the cost is the watering down, diluting what it means to be a craft brewer. By keeping Boston Beer in the club, the meaning of what is craft versus what is a mass-produced product is blurred. The BA begins to look more like AB. And Boston Beer grows to the point where their beer doesn’t taste like it once did. Somewhere, quality is giving way to to quantity. The relationship between BA and Boston Beer is both beneficial and detrimental.
Similar is the effect of bands moving on to major labels and/or reaching new heights in their sales figures. The music isn’t as immediate as it once was, not as clever. The material becomes drab and mundane in order to appease a new audience or label. Size and quantity kill quality.
It’s late and I won’t get to hyperlinking or footnotes. Leave some comments so that this conversation may continue. What do you think about BA redefining what makes a brewer “craft?” What about music? Does success or sales numbers have a detrimental effect?
Tis the Season for Beers
I’m not gonna lie. I drank some beer this holiday season. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right?
The following are not all the beers consumed this holiday season. They are either beers I liked, felt were interesting enough to mention, had pictures of, or some combination of the three[1]. Also, it’s worth mentioning that I’m using the term “holiday season” loosely to describe several weeks of beer-geek debauchery. Mostly, I just wanted to write about some beers I had over the last month.
Mikkeller Black Tie
Honeyed ash tray. That’s all I can say about this one. It’s not terrible, but good luck finishing an entire 500 mL on your own. I shared this with some dudes in a little pre-holiday fatherly drinkfest[2].
Stone Double Bastard
Well, it’s double the Bastard. So, how can it not be good? This one was purchased for me by family mistakenly thinking they had found the Lucky Bastard I so wanted this holiday season. Alas, Lucky never made its way to Missouri[3], but this held me over for a bit. That is, until my siblings proceeded to send me this picture on Xmas Eve:
Not cool. Not cool at all. Of course, for those of you who know the Bastard, you’ll adeptly point out that the beer in their glasses is not Lucky Bastard. I think it was Southern Tier’s Krumpus. So, there’s still hope, I guess.
He’Brew Jewbilations 13 and 14
How are these beers 1) only $5 and 2) still available? I’m talking about two beers that measure in at 13 and 14% ABV respectively. I had both several times this winter and still hold onto one bottle of each. Hopefully, I can hold on for 15.
He’Brew Rejewvinator Year of the Date
I am not a big fan of this particular lineup of He’Brew beers, but the annual Hanukkah party gives me an excuse to show up with a few bombers of the ‘Brew. This one surprised as it festered with festiveness and raisins…or might those be the dates?
He’Brew Origin Pomegranate Ale
This beer accompanied me to said Hanukkah party last year and I was pleasantly taken aback as the pomegranate pairs well with and feeds the dry, fruity, hoppy bitterness. I like a dry fruity finish with my beers and somehow pomegranate does the trick. This one will become a Hanukkah tradition around this gentile’s house[4].
Mikkeller Rauch Geek Breakfast
I had this several times this fall and winter. Normally, I am not a smoked beer fan, but this one is different as it is smoky Beer Geek Breakfast Stout. This beer does for smoke what Beer Geek Brunch Weasel does for poop. Perfect smoky beer for a Polish feast.
Mikkeller Ris a la Male
I’m not sure this one fits with the holiday theme, but I found one and had to try it. I’m still not sure what I thought of it. Almonds, cherries, but not too much of either. The packaging and appearance are beautiful, but the beer lacks anything to make it memorable or even interesting[5].
O’Dell Deconstruction Golden Ale
Held onto this beer for a while until breaking it out for movie night and Indian takeout. Phenomenal. Slight tartness and pungent but golden sweetness to make it one of the more balanced and diverse beers I’ve had this year. This beer defies style and that may hurt it hype-wise, but I enjoyed it both times I was able to sample it, especially that night I killed the entire 750 on my own. See below for the other time I sampled Deconstruction.
Yankee Swap – Allagash Odyssey
This is the only beer I have yet to try. I “won” it in a Yankee Swap after some persistence. It was that or a Russian River beer I’ve since forgotten. I’ll let you know when I do cork it. This was one of the few acquisitions over the holidays that will still hold a spot in my cellar[6].
Alesmith Horny Devil
My brother (seen pictured taunting me with Lucky Bastard) brought this one on a whim. I asked for several breweries available in Ohio and he shows up with this one. I took it to a officer meeting for my beer club and so glad I did. Freaking awesome! As you can see in the picture below, we enjoyed some nice beers at our meeting. The three Hopslams were from last year and not one tasted like the others. It sorta made the case for never cellaring Hopslam again. Still, the Horny Devil was a nice discovery.
Anchor Steam Christmas Ale
This was my first foray into season craft brews so many years ago. Anchor Steam changes their recipe from year to year. I always hope one year will blow me away, but they rarely do. I enjoyed the one three years ago, but my taste buds have undergone a lobotomy since then. Still, it’s a nice, flavorful beer. The spices actually accent the slight hop presence as opposed to overwhelming. It’s not bad and plenty sessionable. Of course, it’s taken the entire season to get through the sixer[7].
Afternoon at Hellbender
I have these friends who are trying to get a nano brewery off the ground. It’s called “Hellbender” and it mostly runs out of their garage at the moment. I hope they make this thing happen as their beers are consistently solid and unique. I got a chance at Thanksgiving to try their Rosemary, Baby, a beer they plan to enter in The Bruery’s Batch 300 Contest, and I have to say it’s the best beer The Bruery hasn’t brewed. I’m predicting it wins, but I’m also prepared for the West Coast bias. The homebrew in the pic is that very beer. We also had a beer geek’s delight in the rest of the lineup: Deschutes’ The Dissident, another Deconstruction, Odell Mountain Standard Double Black IPA[8], Cantillon Kriek, and The Lost Abbey’s Devotion. All beers were good. Drink them if you get your hands on them, but you could probably live without the Lost Abbey.
I have to interject here. This is maybe the best part of being in a beer geek community. I had to drop something off at my buddy Jarrett’s place. With beer in-hand, I entered his garage. By the end of the 2-2.5 hour visit, these were the beers shared. Beer geeks are a giving bunch and my liver belly tongue thanks them.
Mikkeller Santa’s Little Helper 2010
I had the 2009 version of this beer among many other seasonals last Xmas. This one I broke out and consumed on my own for our traditional Polish feast Xmas Eve. I enjoyed this beer so much as I was able to spend time with it, getting to know it’s subtle intricacies, rubbing its thigh, whispering sweet nothings into its ear…Let’s just say 750 mL of a good Belgian-style ale with your favorite meal of the year is a nice way to ring in the holidays.
New Holland Spirits
I know this isn’t beer. I also know that New Holland brews maybe one beer I like. That said, my wife mixed things up this Xmas and purchased me some holiday spirit(s). The Brewer’s Whiskey is good, not great, but it’s a nice sipper and warmed the cockles of my heart Xmas day. The gin is pretty excellent. Me thinks my retired, gin-loving daddy will like some of his own come Father’s Day. More craft brewers should get in on this small batch spirits game. It’s the next big thing since, well, craft beer.
Rogue Yellow Snow IPA
I bought a growler of this last year just so I had something interesting to bring to a party. It was not our favorite IPA. Still, something made me buy it again this year, only in a smaller container. It was really quite nice. None of the super-sweet maltiness so many IPA’s are going with these days. The Simcoe and whatever give you that piney, catty sensation…It’s not for everyone, but this was the perfect hair on the dog Xmas afternoon[9].
Southern Tier Iniquity
I’ve had this beer many times, but the trend of the black IPA has to be addressed. Maybe the biggest trend of 2010, the black IPA is all anyone wants to brew these days. The name is terrible. How can something be black or dark and pale? Even worse is the Oregon-centric push for the style to be called “Cascadian Dark Ale.” I call it a “black bitter,” but I think “black ale” is appropriate for those brews on the sweeter/less bitter side. Regardless, this is easily my favorite of the style, closely followed by the Odell double black IPA.
Sam Adams Infinium
I haven’t had the best of luck with hyped beers, but this one pulled through. Sure, it’s getting blasted in reviews. However, Infinium is a fine beer. I don’t know that it’s a fine $15 beer, but I liked it. The only problem was that I didn’t spend New Year’s Eve with any beer geeks. No one was interested in trying this beer. I had to polish off the entire 750 mL myself[10]. That was a little much. Still, Infinium is a good brew, sharp, clean, fruity. It washed down the take-out Indian brilliantly. It did, however, make me feel a little dirty for drinking it alone.
This was my first attempt at writing some more beer-centric posts here at Building Coalitions. I want to do the same for music and for posts that intersect the two and stay away from things like college athletics, politics, and beards. It’s sort of a blogging New Year’s Resolution, which, as someone pointed out, usually run out by mid-February. Still, the hope is to get three of these bad boys out every week. I’m hoping to do one beer post, one music post, and one that intersects the two each week. I want more readers and regular content is the only way that will happen. Now, I just have to think of some topics.
As usual, read the footnotes and comment at will.
Notes:
1Or it could be just the beers I remember. You know how that goes.
2It was father craft (beer) night, I believe as several mothers attended a craft (craft) night.
3Although, word on the street is that Stone will be in the Show-Me State next year. Yay.
4Although, I believe some people from my high school still think I’m Jewish.
5Which is strange, because if a Mikkeller beer is not good, it’s at the very least interesting. See the previously mentioned poop stout and Black Tie.
6And by “cellar” I’m just talking about a particularly cold closet in my basement.
7Actually, I had three or four of them. The last two were left at a New Year’s Day party. I’m good on holiday beers for another year.
8More on the black IPA later. Odell has always made dependable beers, but anything they do in a 750 mL bottle with a cork is liquid gold. This black IPA being black gold, Texas tea.
9There is no better hair on the dog than beer hair on the dog. Sugar and vitamin B. That’s all you need.
10Me alone with 750 mL of beer is an alarming trend, something that will need to be addressed in resolutions of moderation for the year to come.
Gateway Beers (and Bands)
Image blatantly lifted from the blog I link to in the first sentence.
One of those beer and whiskey loving brothers[1] posed the following question:
Is Blue Moon good for craft beer, or is it a soul-sucking vortex of all that is good and holy?
Basically, the best selling “craft-style” beer[2] is Blue Moon. For the uninitiated, Blue Moon is hardly considered a craft beer. It is brewed and bottled by the monolithic Coors corporation, maker of all things rice adjunct-ed. So, crafty, Blue Moon is not. It is not the typical American industrial lager brewed with corn or rice, but that still doesn’t make it a craft beer.
However, that’s besides the point. Blue Moon’s status as mistaken craft brew makes it a prime candidate as a gateway to craft beer nirvana. Consumers who typically purchase cases of Budweiser or Coors, might take a chance on a Blue Moon. It’s light in color, not particularly offensive in flavor. So, it won’t scare anyone away. With some clever marketing, Blue Moon even feels like it could be a craft beer or the old-school “microbrew” to the craft beer ignorant. A beer with flavor that’s perceived as crafty might be a short jump to more ambitious brews, but I have yet to witness this effect. Let me illustrate…
Let’s just say that your PBR-guzzling bro orders the BM[3] at Friday’s or Chili’s or wherever BM is the most enticing option. He takes a swig (most likely from the bottle[4]) and holds the bottle out and inspects what he’s just dumped down his gullet. Cirtus. Bubblegum. This beer actually tastes like something other than beer.
“I might have to give some of these microbrews[5] a try.”
The night ends and eventually, your bro finds himself in the beer aisle with yet another case of PBR in-hand when he suddenly notices a display. On the display are some strange beers he’s never seen before tonight, before his craft beer revelation. They’re from exotic locales like Portland, San Diego, and Milton. The styles are even more interesting: India Pale Ale, Russian Imperial Stout, Saison with Brett. He realizes that these are the microbrews he was after. He drops the case and grabs what he thinks is a six-pack, only to find that it’s just a four-pack. That seems cool to him; this bro is low on cash after the trip to TGI Friday’s. Then he’s sees the price tag. “TEN FUCKING DOLLARS?!?”
Your bro carefully puts back the four-pack as if it’s his grandmother’s heirloom ceramic angels that he just super glued back together before she returns from the store. Then he eyes a bomber. “Hey, that’s like a forty. I love me some forties,” he thinks to himself. However, this “forty” is more expensive than the four-pack and has a cork in it. He nearly drops the beer before placing it back on the shelf, grabs his case, high-tails it out of the supermarket, and vows only to drink Blue Moon on special occasions, like eating at Chili’s.
And scene.
Of course, the vignette above doesn’t even address the surprise the craft beer curious experience when they do take a chance on a true craft beer. Imagine the same look the old dude with the bitter beer face from those ads in the early nineties upon a noob’s first sip of and IPA or DIPA in the neighborhood of 85+ IBU’s. Or think about that guy who drinks energy drinks instead of coffee because he doesn’t like the taste of coffee testing a big Russian Imperial Stout. Don’t even consider what happens when the craft beer ignorant try sours or Belgian beers. Forget it. This is not their father’s Blue Moon. If the prices don’t scare them off, the flavors will.
That’s why I think the best gateway into craft beer is…well…CRAFT BEER.
Take my gateway into craft beer, for instance. I started out on rice adjunct, industrial lagers like the rest of you. I tried to mix it up with a Rolling Rock[6] here, some Little Kings there, and maybe a Sapporo now and again. None of those beers satisfied and most imports of the day were skunked. Guinness and Sam Adams soon dominated my beverage choices by the end of college. After that, I often chose these beers or the periodic microbrew, thinking my palate was expanding but never really finding anything that challenged.
Then, the craft beer epiphany[7] happened.
I had ordered a sub sandwich to be delivered and figured I could wash it down with a beer. Of course, I didn’t really need a ton of beer, just a few before I settled in for the night. So, I sauntered down the street to the beer shop, the Pace-High Carryout. After looking around a bit, I noticed a cooler of these big beer bottles. Right at my eye level was a beer with a gargoyle looking back at me with the words “Stone Ruination IPA” etched on the bottle. I liked pale ales and the like and thought a couple of these bottles would do the trick for the evening. Plus, it seemed easier than lugging a sixer down the street.
Upon opening this beer and pouring it in the tumbler I once stole from a bar, the aromatic hops hit me like a ton of bricks. Then the huge malt backbone and tremendously intense hops pummeled my tongue into submission. How was this beer? Where had this kind of beverage been all my life? This was my gateway beer, not effing Blue Moon blandness in a bottle.
Of course, it took me a while to fully figure out this whole craft beer thing. It didn’t help that my local beer retailer had issues restocking their shelves. Either way, I was constantly in search of that big flavor and aroma Stone’s Ruination thrust upon me. The search never stopped, even after finding many, many fine craft beers. Bland beer did not make me a craft beer fan. Craft beer made me a craft beer fan.
The same goes for music[8]. My gateway band was Nirvana. Sure, I had flirted with the likes of U2 and REM, but it was Nirvana that exposed me to indie rock[9]. By the time I discovered Nirvana, they were no longer on Sub Pop, but Kurt Cobain and co’s feet were still firmly planted in the underground, choosing to tour with unknown indie bands, touting Dinosaur Jr on MTV and The Breeders in the pages of Rolling Stone.
I fell in love with indie rock because of indie bands, not bands marketed as indie or alternative. Bands who obviously came from and still supported the underground showed me a whole new world of music that corporate whores could not. Bands developed by major labels for the masses have never made me want to try out new bands the way indie bands have.
The point is that quality is not something one can fake through slick marketing or copying an aesthetic. You can’t beat the real thing, whether it’s music or beer. So, the next time you see your buddy reaching for the sixer of Blue Moon, direct him toward a Jolly Pumpkin Calabaza Blanca or Allagash White[10]. Or, really blow his mind with something else entirely, like an Arrogant Bastard or Maharaja. There’s no need to settle for the corporate thing that supposed to taste like the indie thing. Just go with the indie/craft product and we’ll all be happier.
Oh, and as an added bonus, there’s this.
Notes:
1The little one.
2Read “craft-style” as “blatantly ripping off good, hard-working folk trying to keep tradition alive while still innovating and stretching boundaries in order to keep beer real” as that’s really all macro breweries are doing by marketing “craft-style” beers. Check the ratings for such beers on RateBeer or BeerAdvocate. You’ll find that the copycats only resemble craft beer in marketing and image, not flavor.
3I used this abbreviation for Blue Moon on the Brothers’ blog comments and it was pointed out that a “BM” is also a bowel movement. Freudian indeed.
4Because if you drink mocro beer, you don’t care what it smells like. In fact, you may actually hate the smell. I always ask people who drink a good beer from the bottle if they would smell a rose through a straw. Drinking a beer from a bottle has the same effect. Why is drinking from a beer bottle so accepted, but if I drink straight from a bottle of wine or liquor, I’m a lush? Avoid drinking from the bottle if you want to enjoy the beer. Pour it in a glass.
5I use the term “microbrews” as this is what peopel mistakenly call craft beer. I don’t know when/where this started, but I remember first calling them “microbrews” back in the nineties. The problem with the term is that it insinuates that these beers are somehow just smaller versions of the larger macrobrews or industrial lagers. Aside from the crazy numbers corporate beer pushers produce, nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, the macros are big, but their beers are not. Craft brewers brew the biggest beers and they are anything but smaller versions of Budweiser et al.
6At the time, Rolling Rock was still a pretty small, regional brewery. I thought I was drinking a microbrew at the time. Little did I know how similar they were to the big boys. Eventually, Rolling Rock was bought out by said big boys. The rest is rice adjunct history.
7Just learned this term in an interview by one of my favorite beer blogger/Buckeye fans, The Beer Wench. Her interview of The Dude from It’s a Fucking Beer is a must read.
8Sorry. This is where my argument gets a bit week. I still contend it applies, but I’m too lazy to really make it work. I’ll tie it all up with a reference back to the beer. Don’t you worry.
9This is a bit unfair to REM as they were and have always been a true ally to indie rock. I think it had more to do with the fact that I wasn’t old enough nor possessed the ability to know about REM and the bands they came up with. For me, they were not a good gateway as they were presented as something so separate from the underground, unlike Nirvana.
10Seriously. If someone likes a Belgian-style white ale/witbier that much, they should try what the style is really supposed to taste like. If they don’t like that, they should try other styles…or just quit pretending to like craft beer with real flavor.
Freshness Matters
In both beer and music, freshness matters. As a hophead, I understand that the fresher the beer (particularly IPA’s and DIPA’s) the better it is. You can smell the hops. The citrus and pine flavors really stand out. In the case of music, the latest album often feels like the best until the newness rubs off[1]. Even better is a new album from an old favorite, especially when the musician is trying a new direction.
A fellow beer enthusiast returned from a trip to Minneapolis with a four-pack of Surly Furious for me. These beers come in cans, meaning that their freshness stays locked in for a long time as virtually no air nor light can ruin the beer. I was excited to get another taste of this particular beer[2], but my middle-man had me even more excited when he informed me the beer was merely three weeks old. Now, that’s fresh.
Furious is about as good an IPA you’ll find. Citrus. Pine. Caramel. Malt. That’s probably all you need to know. If one needed a perfect or near-perfect example of an American IPA, look no further than Furious. It’s good to know that brewers in the Midwest continually hold their own versus the much more glorified West Coast hop bombs[3]. I’m sure it helped that the beer is so fresh. I’m curious as to how long it will last around here. Luckily, I have other beers to drink…
Fall is a time when many breweries come out with their freshly hopped harvest ales. They buy loads of fresh hops from the fall harvest to make one-off or seasonal brews whose hop characters vary from year to year. One of my favorite harvest ales is the one produced by another Midwest brewery: Founders. Founders Harvest Ale is yet another monster of a hop bomb. FHA doesn’t contain the same blast of Simcoe aroma Furious unleashed from its can, but it did satisfy the nose the way a nice IPA should…Of course, it’s just an APA. This beer is easily in Alpha King territory[4] when it comes to an overwhelming hop presence for an American Pale Ale. Again, the freshness of this beer is felt and one can fully appreciate the full 70 IBU’s[5], realizing that this beer will be gone soon when the winter winds come and I empty my cellar.
These two beers present the ideal of freshness as something new and at its peak aesthetic potential. Another kind of freshness might apply to a new and challenging idea or concept. An artist might create something never seen or heard before, at least not by him/her previously. When an artist switches direction and tries something new, it is even more challenging as the artist has created a following with an established aesthetic, choosing now to throw that niche to the wolves in favor of fresh material.
Sufjan Stevens did this. Long gone are albums about states (Midwestern ones at that). The orchestral pop with ambivalent religious messages are no longer as prevalent as they once were. Abnormally long song titles even fail to make an appearance in the liner notes. Sufjan is going for a fresh start and it sounds like The Age of Adz.
And unlike fresh beer, no one knows what to make of Sufjan Stevens’ fresh offering. However, like the freshest IPA, the freshness of Stevens’ material ignites the senses and makes you aware of opinion, emotions, etc.
The imagery on the album is particularly perplexing. Strange sci-fi images with even stranger messages written throughout the artwork elude to something sinister yet beautiful inside[6]. When I look at the packaging for the beers, they give completely different messages. Furious is a fiery, slick can and its Founders counterpart provides an image of the freshly harvested hops contributing to the flavor and aroma. However, all the images are robust and full of meaning and life. All three are a lot to take in and their packages hint at this headiness.
How is The Age of Adz fresh?
Say goodbye to traditional, pop orchestral arrangements – those created by humans and analogue in nature – and hello
to blips, bleeps, and mashed up sounds. However, once the listener gets past the striking change in aesthetic, he realizes this electronic noise is delicately arranged and as orchestral as anything he’s ever done. It’s also intricately weaved with more familiar Stevens’ fair[7].
Say goodbye to Sufjan’s trademark falsetto, or at least for the most part. In fact, Stevens shows incredible range and control of his voice, jumping from octave to octave, utilizing his voice as an instrument in a way few can match. It’s not so much that the whispers and elevated notes of his past performances is gone; there is more range and complexity to his vocal work. Adz showcases an incredible vocal talent, rarely recognized[8] and even less often imitated.
At first, the musical arrangements and electronic noise is off-putting. It’s annoying, almost disappointing in its obvious nod to current musical trends[9]. Hell, he uses auto-tune in the album’s 20-minute long closer[10]. Then, you pay attention to the music and find that the electronic masturbation is purposeful and subtle. As with all Sufjan Stevens albums, he’s so careful in crafting an exact-sounding album that doesn’t stray from the core but expands upon itself with each advancing track.
Now that he’s free from the fifty states project and the need to experiment, Stevens has written a record focused on himself. One probably shouldn’t read too much into some of the lyrics[11], but he very obviously seems to have turned the songwriter’s lens on himself in creating some of his most engaging songs to date. The songs don’t seem to have anything to do with the others, but that works, which must be a relief for a guy who once thought writing an album for each state would be a good idea[12].
How did he get here from those highly conceptualized, state-themed records to this electronic mish-mash of personal tracks? The evidence is there throughout Stevens’ catalog and life. Had he released a complete album mixing the best tracks from his first two efforts (A Sun Came, Enjoy Your Rabbit) The Age of Adz would seem a perfect follow-up. Of course, the orchestration and subtlety of his state albums help set up the intricacies found in this latest effort. Much the same way these works create a base for The Age of Adz to stand, The BQE[13] and All Delighted People EP bridge the gap in their incomplete and perplexing results. Stevens’ strangely religious Michigan upbringing, Brooklynite hipster status, and the time he had to give up music due to a viral infection helped create the uneasiness, introspection, and dramatics of this album.
This is Sufjan Stevens’ Odelay. Like Beck, Stephens was pigeon-holed with an early hit. For Beck, it was Mellow Gold with its infectious “Loser”. In Stevens’ case, his hit came later in the form of Come On Feel the Illinoise, featuring the brilliant “Chicago”. Both artists diverged only to collect the pieces that would become uniquely magnificent long-play records. Beck’s was Odelay; Sufjan’s is The Age of Adz.
Is it fresh? Hell yeah! Like the beers mentioned above? Sort of.
Freshness breaths life into its consumer. The Simcoe on the nose as I poured the Furious or the sharp bitterness on the back tongue caused by every mouthful of the Harvest Ale enlivened my senses. Left out was my sense of hearing, until I put on The Age of Adz. Ever since, I’ve been pouring over every detail of the record, trying to get a grasp on what Sufjan Stevens has done here. And every time, I get something different[14].
I don’t know that this post on freshness does either beer or album any justice, but I cannot put into words how these sorts of experiences help me freshen my perspective. The change of season, a new flavor or smell, something that catches my eye for the first time… Experiencing something new and fresh helps us get up in the morning. Great craft beer and a new record does that for me (along with the many new things my daughter discovers on a daily basis, of course).
The important thing to walk away with is that freshness matters. It’s what sustains us, motivates us. That’s probably why I still buy records and have to have the newest beers. When the freshness dies, things go stale, become inconsumable. So, we go out looking for more. I found two beers and a record that are fresh, fresh enough to satisfy me…for now.
Notes:
1Unless, of course, it doesn’t. Then you’re talking about a classic, desert island kind of record.
2I say this because it’s a rare occasion when I can enjoy some Surly and even rarer when I actually possess my own cans as Surly is canned in Minnesota and only sold in a few other states, not including Missouri.
3It’s been suggested to me that Midwest brewers brew IPA’s and DIPA’s that better represent hops than their Northwest counterparts. The person who suggested this blasphemous idea is from Seattle. So, there’s that.
4For the craft beer noobie, Alpha King is largely considered to be the best APA on the market, produced by possibly the best brewery in the world: Three Floyds. So, to say that Founders’ Harvest Ale is in the same class is a huge compliment.
5That’s huge for a pale ale. Of course, this is an American Pale Ale. Also, the Furious weighs in at a whopping 99 IBU’s. That’s bitter.
6From what I understand, the images are by an outsider artist who creates strange sci-fi images along with semi-literate messages as a sort of social commentary or some shit like that.
7I like my share of blips and bleeps (see Joan of Arc), but I think they’re overused as well (see the last Archers of Loaf record).
8Why isn’t Sufjan Stevens more recognized for his vocal prowess? I have never understood this. Sure, his songcraft and arrangements are second to none, but the most amazing skill he may possess are his vocals.
9How much do you want to bet that Stevens leaves a spot on his already crowded stages for a MacBook or two?
10That final track is more of a 4 or 5 song EP than it is one song. It has definite parts and even pauses. I don’t know what the thinking was for this sort of formatting. I wonder if he didn’t know where to put these tracks individually in the sequence and simply decided to combine them for one epic closer.
11Although I am terrible at picking out lyrics (I often sing made-up lyrics that maybe rhyme or sound similar without much attention to meaning, much like the Japanese), I did make out the chorus directed at Sufjan in “Vesuvius”.
12I still contend that the 50 States Project should live on. Even if he maybe does ten or twenty, the stories found in a state’s history has proven to be pretty remarkable for Sufjan Stevens.
13Aside from the cool comic book included, this was hugely disappointing for me.
14This shouldn’t be so remarkable for such a new album (doubly, since my copy was on backorder), but the new discoveries are striking every time. I imagine finding surprises for a long time with this one.
Men and Beer
This is one of those posts I started a long time ago but never got around to finishing. In the meantime, some urgency is lost, not to mention the many other post ideas I’ve had to let go. Anyway, this one feels unfinished. Footnotes would help immensley, but I just want to post it and move on. So, here you go…
There was this story not too long ago in the Times. It seems Lost Abbey made the unfortunate choice to feature the artwork you see to the left on their labels for their Witch’s Wit. Bloggers debated. Some came up with solutions.
The debate was whether this image was offensive and should Lost Abbey change it before they release the beer again.
Who was offended?
Well, according to blog posts and the Times article, Pagans and witches were the most cited offendees. However, what was missing was that this label is offensive to women as well.
Women were persecuted, drowned, and burned because they wouldn’t conform. In fact, in some areas today, women are still suffering from such atrocities over accusations of witchcraft and generally not giving in to men’s wishes.
In other words, women can be held in check, kept quiet with the knowledge that they will be tortured or killed for stepping out of line. It’s not much different from what a battered woman suffers in an abusive relationship. It’s abuse at best and systematic oppression at worst.
Now, I doubt Lost Abbey intended for this to be the message on their beer label. They make some great beers and don’t appear to be the sexist rabble-rousers some might assume from the production of this label. It’s just insensitive. The right thing to do would be to apologize and make a reasonable change. The blogger-provided solution I linked to above would be ideal, but any change to either create a less offensive image or provide some education on the issue would be the right thing to do.
I don’t intend to pile onto Lost Abbey with this post. I’m just trying to provide some context. The issue I really want to hit upon is the sexism prevalent in the beer community.
Superficially, the worst offenders are the macro-brew side of the community. InBEV, Coors, etc. promote their “beers” through some of the most sexist, exploitive tactics possible. It’s obvious to point them out, but I thought I’d mention them first as they are by far the worst perpetrators of the objectification of women. I think we can all agree on that.
More subtly, the craft beer community has it’s share of sexism. Sure, I think the more refined community of brewers, bloggers, and enthusiasts of the craft beer scene are light-years ahead of the macros, but that might be the problem. Never should craft brewers sink to the levels of the macros. Maybe that’s naive, but I want to believe that craft brewers are more principled than corporate rice-based beer manufacturers.
The Lost Abbey is but one instance of arguable sexism or objectification in craft beer. Honestly, it’s the only one I’ve seen on a label (sans a few vintage pin-up images). That might be why it seems like such a big deal. Craft brewers don’t have to sink to such levels (not that Lost Abbey did any sinking) to sell their beer. They rely on the quality of their product, as it should be.
No, the kind of sexism I see in craft beer is subtle. Go to any craft beer event and you’ll see that it’s overwhelmingly male. I know that’s changing and there are efforts to organize the women in the community in order to improve those numbers, but one cannot miss what a boys club craft beer is.
For the most part, I’m cool with that. I often want to hang out with people like myself, gender is part of that. And any dude who’s into craft beer tends to be thoughtful and opinionated, good for a chat at the bar.
However, when you have that many men in close proximity with few or no women around, things tend to get a bit sketchy. Jokes about wives or girlfriends start to happen. The locker room comes to the bar room. Let’s just say many conversations are not the most inviting for women, but that’s not really any different than anywhere else or in almost any other context. Guys say things that are not exactly sensitive to gender because the world is just set up that way. And there are even instances when women can get in on the act. So, in this way, craft beer isn’t significantly different than the rest of the world. Still, it’s no excuse.
What I do see is a lack of a “woman’s touch” in the scene. I don’t mean that there isn’t enough pink on beer labels or fancy fruit beers. And I don’t mean to ignore those women who support, promote, and brew in the scene. What I’m talking about is the pissing contest that inevitably happens at every beer event. Who has the most rare beers in his cellar? Who has the most reviews on BeerAdvocate? Who traveled the furthest for his beer?
Missing is the delicate, intellectual side of beer. Let’s discuss beer pairings. What specifically makes this kind of hoppy beer better than that hoppy beer? What does everyone think? Let’s discuss each beer instead of frantically passing each bottle around the table in an effort to squeeze in as many beers as possible in one sitting. It goes on and on.
Admittedly, this is nit-picking. Maybe that’s why I like the craft beer scene so much. There’s little to complain about. For the most part, it’s a pretty self-conscious scene. However, when there is a critique – like the Lost Abbey label debate – it falls onto to deaf ears at best or defensive ones at worst.
Go back to the post I referred to above. I think the comments were generally polite and respectful, but there was an underlying tone that suggested craft beer had no room for descension. There’s a tone that anyone who’s offended is a whiner. The term “P.C.” is thrown around so that no one has to think about an idea that might call into question one’s privilege. It’s dismissive and condescending instead of engaging in debate. Sure, some commenters, particularly the blog’s authors, who tried to stay above the fray, but to little or no avail. It was clear that to question craft beer and to point out instances of sexism was pure blasphemy.
This attitude concerns me. To deny that inequality exists or to pretend as if it’s no big deal is a dangerous road down which to travel. There’s a reason beer clubs and homebrew communities are predominantly male. Some reasons are inane, but some factors are problematic.
Anyway, in order to combat the sexism in craft beer (real or imagined), we should support those in the scene who put forth a good image for women. There’s fellow Ohio State alum The Beer Wench and her blog, Drink with the Wench. You can also follow her on Twitter. There’s also Laurie Delk at the 100 Beers 30 Days Blog. And don’t forget to support The Ladies of Craft Beer whenever they come around.
Session Beers
My beer club is having a session beer tasting next month. What a session beer is, I’m not completely sure. I knew that it was something lower in alcohol so as to keep sessioners from over-doing it. I also knew that session beers has a different meaning to those in the UK than here. Steve over at Wait Until Next Year shudders whenever I mention drinking beers 6% or higher, yet he loves to partake in the beer session whenever possible. To me, a session consists of a beer or two at 6-7%, followed by a 9+% beer to finish off the evening[1].
Over at Make Mine Potato, the author ponders the end of the session beer as limited to 4 or 5% ABV. He proposes some nice IPA’s or extreme sours as the ideal session beers, none of them fitting neatly beneath the British threshold of 4% ABV. Instead, he views the session as a daily occurrence when he can enjoy a beer no matter the ABV. Of course, as he argues elsewhere, who’s the deity that decided a session beer had to be 4-5%[2]?
My good friend at Double Word Score had his own take. To make a long story short, he defined a session beer like so:
A session beer is a beer an individual consumer enjoys (subject to personal tastes in, among other things, hop to malt ratio and logo design) and is able to enjoy and drink more than two 12 oz. cans or pints of without doing something stupid (including but not limited to: making a wager of more than 10% of your paycheck on a poker game, calling old rivals and/or former lovers, urinating on your neighbor’s porch, etc.[3])
I don’t know that there’s a better definition I’ve read than the one above.
So, where does this all leave us? I don’t really know. Is ABV a good barometer over taste or quality[4]? Is an arbitrary number what I want to use to choose a beer for a session? What about sessionable beers that are crap? Are they worth an evening of my time?
To take the argument in another direction, I responded to Steve’s own post on the session beer in this manner:
That’s a rather reasonable take on the subject. However, I’m not sure why a higher gravity beer cannot be sessionable. Say we hit the bar and over the course of a few hours, you down four or so beers near 4% ABV and I sip on two beers in the 8-9% range. We’re looking at about the same amount of alcohol even though it’s obviously not equal amounts of liquid. I would argue that the advantage in the session goes to me.
1. Since you are drinking more beers, you are hitting the can at least twice as often during the session than I[5]. In fact, I may never once interrupt conversation with a trip to the restroom.
2. When one consumes more, they spend more. Typically, a session beer might run in the ballpark of $3.50 for a pint (usually tonic, not imperial). My barley wine is probably $4.50-$5.00 a glass. You’ve just spent $14 and I have given the bartender $10 at the most.
3. “Traditional British beer is best when it is quaffed. It is not there to be sipped and savoured [sic][6].” I couldn’t have said it better myself. While I would like to discuss the complexities of the beer on hand, you would gulp the remainder of your second, immediately raising a finger for another. I look at beer drinking as more of a Zen-like experience, meant to be savored in the moment.
4. What do binge drinkers really drink? A hefty Russian Imperial Stout with notes of coffee, chocolate, and cherries as it sits at 10% ABV and 70 IBU’s or the bros downing a case of rather sessionable Bud Lite and it’s sub-4% 10 IBU status? I’d argue that the more sophisticated, more civilized drink is the high gravity beer.
That comment pretty much sums up my entire opinion of drinking beer. The question of what’s sessionable is merely a distraction[7]. What we’re talking about here is drinking beer. Which would you rather do? Would you rather drink all that your belly can hold over the course of an evening or would you rather sip and enjoy a finely crafted beer over the course of a session? I mean, we all know the results of the former, don’t we Great Britain?
I choose the high gravity session beer for the same reasons I choose LP’s over MP3’s. There is care put into the recording and sequencing of an entire album. I don’t want just the hits, give me the filler; give me the bridge between hit #1 and hit #2. I want the big picture to give the great songs context. I want to enjoy all aspects of the craft, not simply consume it.
Of course, the biggest difference in opinions with which we are working is between the opinion held by Brits and the one promoted by Yanks. As with most of our language, the session is based on a British idea. The trouble is that a session, like many British philosophies[8], doesn’t work in an American context. There was never a prohibition period in the UK like there was here[9]. That time greatly affected the way Americans viewed beer. While British brewers continued to perfect their craft and beer drinkers across the United Kingdom met in pubs for a session of pints, Americans were going ape-shit for any beer or other alcoholic beverage they could obtain.Prohibition was lifted and the few brewers who survived produced a bland shadow of beer, opting for abstracts such as rice and corn, brewing flavorless, characterless “beer”.
American beer became something to guzzle. It was a means to an end. That end was to get wasted. Sure, there were sessions, but Americans do everything to the extreme. Binge drinking became a common occurrence as beer was cheaper by the case. It’s ingrained in our modern culture that to drink beer is to consume as much as possible. That has somehow become the norm in the American beer session.
Enter the craft beer movement…
Another group of brewers and beer enthusiasts discovered that beer didn’t have to be flavorless. They discovered the sessions in British pubs. They found there were monks in Belgium crafting the most beautiful beers. In other parts of Europe, brewers used the best ingredients in order to produce the tastiest beers. These were people who were choosing beer for its flavor and not just its “medicinal” purposes.
So, the session here in the States is either a binge-fest with your bros or an opportunity to sip on something more refined with other beer enthusiasts. This model doesn’t fit the British session. In the UK there is a culture of the session as community builder. The beer is merely the lubricant that does little damage in the process. I won’t bash British cuisine too harshly here, but let’s just say the flavors enjoyed across the pond are not the most spectacular, especially when it comes to the beer[10]. Of course, that’s OK when you’re not sipping the beer slowly. The British session doesn’t depend on flavor as much as the American craft beer session. It depends on friendship, good conversation, and whoever is buying the next round. It seems to me that the Brits aren’t about savoring the beer, they’re about savoring the experience.
At some point, Steve proposed that maybe there needs to be a new term for the session of higher gravity beers I prefer. I considered something like “high-gravity session” or “craft beer session”, but they seemed to take the fun out of the session. Maybe it doesn’t matter what I call it. It’s a session. It’s a chance to try a really great beer. It’s beer on my deck on a hot summer night. It’s beer in front of the fire in the dead of winter. It’s beer with pizza. It’s beer for dessert. Really, it’s just beer.
So, I still don’t know that a session beer is the same for everyone. I guess it doesn’t really have to have one definition. I suppose it’s whatever you want it to be. If you’re at the pub, it’s probably a 4% bitter. If you’re at Sycamore, it might be a 9% hopbomb. If you’re at the frat house, it might even be a case of Natty Light[11]. The term “session” doesn’t really matter. I’ll show up to my tasting next month with a beer in the 4-6% range as anything lower isn’t really worth the cost in flavor, but I’ll long for the session that will take place after the tasting when I finally get a chance to sip on that big, oak-aged imperial stout I’ve had my eye on.
[BA’s Top Session Beers]
[The Session Beer Project]
Notes:
1Although, I don’t choose my beers based on ABV. It just usually ends this way. Also, I usually opt for a lower gravity beer at the end of the evening in order to keep that hangover bug away.
2Please don’t name-drop some king or queen here. First, monarchs are not deities. Second, they have no say over Americans via the Revolutionary War.
3I have never done any of these, but I suspect the “etc.” refers to the things I have done when intoxicated inebriated annihilated.
4However, we beer geeks often discuss the booziness of a beer, suggesting that ABV does have an effect on flavor. Also, it was suggested somewhere that American brewers up the ABV so as to squeeze more flavor out of generally flavorless American strains of malt. I don’t think that’s true at all. However, if American malt is weak, I’d argue that British yeast tastes like stale vegetables. I don’t want to go there. This is not an anti-UK post. I promise.
5This is quite possibly the strongest point of my argument.
6This “[sic]” is only meant as a jab at British spellings. It’s meant to be funny. Even more ironic is how many grammatical and spelling mistakes can be found in the original comment which I have conveniently edited for the purposes of not looking like a bumbling idiot on my own blog.
7A distraction that has warranted many a blog post.
8“Philosophies” is a bit hyperbolic, I admit, but we’re talking about a cornerstone of British culture here.
9I sort of half-assed Googled this and decided Britain has never had prohibition. This very well could be wrong, but I stand by the fact that the British never experienced anything like our prohibition.
10A friend often refers to beers as tasting “British”, meaning that odd, stale, vegetably flavor in British yeast. The Belgians produce raisins in their beer; the British produce old vegetables. That’s not a knock on British beer. That’s just how it tastes to me.
11No. It’s never a case of Natty Light.
Mikkeller
I won’t even try to tell their story1. I’ll just goof up the details2.
Two Danish bros travel around Europe and the US, use the facilities at several fine craft breweries to create some of the best, if not most interesting beers around. There’s nifty packaging and even niftier names to boot. And they don’t just do the obscure styles. They do the beers we love: the imperial India pale ale, imperial stouts, Belgian styles, etc. And there’s also all those experimental beers, the sours, the stouts made with weasel poop3, and variations upon variations of their top sellers.
Again, Mikkeller may or may not be the best brewery in the world, but they are certainly the most interesting.
A friend came over for beers and dinner. For the evening, I broke out two Mikkeller brews. We split a bottle of the I Beat yoU DIPA they brewed at Scotland’s Brew Dog and the infamous and hard-to-fathom 1000 IBU.
One of the more interesting series of beers Mikkeller has released is their run of single-hopped IPA’s. In the arms race of the imperial/double IPA, Mikkeller has found a niche in isolating hops and playing with the style in ways few American brewers would ever try. Using a rather simple recipe, the Mikkeller boys isolated a hop with each batch, making it possible to taste side-by-side the differences in hops. I’ve sat in on a session where someone provided four such beers. It was amazing the variations we found in aroma and taste among the hops4.
Well, they’ve done ten of those beers. Someone thought it might be a good idea to toss all ten of those hops into one beer. Someone else might think this would never work, not I. The resulting beer is all flower5 on the nose and has a really complex taste that goes beyond bitterness. Sure, it’s bitter, but not too bitter. You catch one hop upon first taste and another as it goes down your throat. It even becomes more convoluted as it warms. Really, it’s a beautiful beer wrapped neatly inside a gimmick.
We then moved to a bigger, badder version of a Mikkeller DIPA. The 1000 IBU is becoming a favorite of mine, an expensive favorite6, but a favorite nonetheless. Considering that the average Joe can taste 100, maybe 120 IBU’s7, one would think a beer ten times the IBU’s would be virtually undrinkable. When I first thought of 1000 IBU’s, I thought of this:
That didn’t happen. Thankfully.
No, instead, what this beer revealed is unbelievable balance and subtlety. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a hop bomb. It’s just that it tastes so…so…well, good. An even more amazing feat than 1000 IBU’s was to make a beer at 1000 IBU’s that was delicious. The sweetness found in its malt bill is maybe more impressive than the 1000 international bitterness units.
For me, Mikkeller represents the best of hipsters8. There’s genuine ingenuity. The classics are celebrated and even enhanced without losing touch with tradition. There’s style in their packaging that is not only aesthetically pleasing but also demonstrates depth and careful planning. Once again, I don’t know that Mikkeller makes the best beer, but I know that they make some of the most interesting brews. The two beers above suggest they make interesting and great beers.
And since I’m on a positive hipster beer kick9, you should check out one of my favorite reviews from Hot Knives collection of great beer reviews in zine form. They give Mikkeller’s Black Hole Stout the proper treatment. I don’t think I’ve posted anything about these bros before. Let’s just say they are the equivalent of Mikkeller in beer blog form. They’re a little punk and DIY. They’ve got that hipster10 thing going. Oh, and they know good beer. So, once again, while I’m on a pro-hipster, beer roll, you should shoot over to Hot Knives for some real beer writing.
Notes:
1Actually, I’ll tell you just enough. You can check out their story here. Be sure to click on the American flag.
2Of course, that’s what footnotes are for.
3Yes. There is a beer made with weasel poop. Well, actually, it’s a coffee stout made with coffee that comes from weasel poop.
4My favorite is the Simcoe variation with its grapefruit aroma and flavor. I’m anxiously awaiting the Citri version.
5My drinking buddy for the evening actually said, “This beer smells like a flower.”
6Thirteen bucks for a bottle that measures just over twelve ounces. Luckily, this town is about out of these beers.
7“IBU” stands for “international bitterness units”. It’s a measurement of bitterness in beer based on the amount and types of hops you use to brew a beer. Beers described as “hoppy” typically range between 60 and 80 IBU’s. Really big, bitter hop bombs begin to approach 100. To give you perspective, Budweiser has around 11.
8Before you jump all over me for bashing hipsters or even just bringing them up, I think I will demonstrate a positive view of hipsterdom which benefits us all. Usually, hipsters make great music, but in this case they make great beer.
9See. There’s nothing wrong with critiquing hipsters if you’re also willing to praise them.
10That was a bonus “hipster” there.
Ten at the Middle of ’10
Sorry for the inadvertent two-week layoff. Time just got away from me. I did start about three posts in that time period which is my typical schedule1. Now, on with the post…
Usually I like to list the best records at the midpoint of the year. So, below, you will find a rather pathetic list as I’m not sure I’ve purchased ten good records2 to include at the midpoint of 2010, but I must keep up with the Jones or whatever. This list is in no particular order and is surely missing something, but I’m sure you’ll tell me what that is in the comments.
Spoon – Transference
I know some people don’t like Spoon. They’re too whorish. They smirk too hard. They demand attention. They only put on a good show half of the time. Their frontman is named “Britt”. This is all forgotten as one puts the needle to the record. Britt Daniel writes how I think. It’s not always PC, but it’s brutally honest. The production on a Spoon record is like nothing else3. It’s sparse and it echoes. It’s textured without being too much. Spoon doesn’t make bad records and Transference is just another example of this fact.
Let’s Wrestle – In the Court of the Wrestling Let’s
I love naiveté in my indie rock and these boys bring it wrapped nicely in a Billy Bragg package. It’s punk without being cliched. It’s fun without being too stupid. In the Court of the Wrestling Let’smakes me feel young. I sing to it in the car. My 21-month-old likes it. It’s on Merge. How can you hate this record? The answer is that you can’t. No matter how hard you try not to, you love this record. This is the album you will grow to love soon.
Los Campesinos! – Romance Is Boring
So emotive Brits singing anthem after anthem about sex and getting drunk and dancing doesn’t do it for you? That’s fine. This record is big and fun without losing touch.
The Soft Pack – The Soft Pack
There’s not enough straight-up college rock anymore4. This was what they called music before alternative and indie that wasn’t hardcore or on the radio. The Soft Pack have hit that nerve. They’re like a post-90’s-indie Smithereens5. It’s nothing flashy. It’s just good.
Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record
I went into this one with low expectations and came out happily surprised. The pleasure from this record has carried over the last month or so since the record was released. Sure, it’s not the best BSS album, but I’ll listen to it a ton more than that outtakes record. Really, it is one of the top ten albums this year. However, I still contend the last two tracks are two of the weakest in the BSS canon.
Wolf Parade – Expo 86
Like BSS, these Canucks6 are graded by a different set of criteria than everyone else7. Though this is their third-best record, it’s better than 99% of the crap that passes for music these days8.
The National – High Violet
Everyone’s album of the year had to make my list. It really is that good. I can’t guarantee that it will finish at the top of the heap by year’s end, but it will certainly be on the list. That and there’s something there to which I’m connecting. It could be the Ohio-centric narrative or the album’s struggle to break free of the limitations of adulthood or it’s just a really cool-sounding record.
Quasi – American Gong
I was close to writing this band off. Then several folks in my circle saw them live and reported that the band was doing well. It seems adding a bassist and replacing the keys with some strings has worked. American Gong is maybe the band’s best work in 10 or 15 years.
The Tallest Man on the Earth – The Wild Hunt
The new Dylan has arrived9. I don’t mean to make it sound like TTMONE writes songs as timeless and inspiring as Dylan, but he comes close. That and he sounds a shit-ton like the old man10. That has to count for something in this post-pop, post-hip-hop world.
Titus Andronicus – The Monitor
Rock ‘n roll did not die. Bruce Springsteen has seen to that if not in his own material it happens in his influence on music. TA is maybe the most Springsteen-like band making music right now. They don’t always sound like the Boss or write like him, but the feel and urgency of a Springsteen album is here. They’re like Arcade Fire with balls or Cono Oberst with a PBR11. It’s guttural. It’s meaningful. It’s Jersey12.
Bonus: Pavement – Quarantine the Past
I hate including compilations. They typically suck and leave out so much great material while including the worst in a band’s discography. That said, this is maybe the best best-of I’ve ever heard. Of course I’m biased, but I couldn’t have put together a better comp that fills my need for nostalgia13 while properly educating the masses to the greatness that was Pavement. Seriously, it’s worth a listen and your dollars.
Before the year’s out, I need to check out albums by The Besnard Lakes, Midlake, and The Black Keys. I am also awaiting deliveries/releases from the likes of Arcade Fire, Superchunk14, Fleet Foxes, The Shins, Here We Go Magic, and Kurt Vile15. Are there others I’ve missed?
As a super double bonus, here are my top five beers of the year so far. Again, this list is in no particular order and your comments are welcome.
Russian River Supplication
It was too bad I only had one of these beauties. The guy who organized the order said that it was one of his favorites was right. It was just the right amount of sour. The balance and complexity of flavors made the $20 I laid down for 12 ounces16 worth it. It’s made me somewhat obsessive about spending more time with this brewery…even considering their inappropriate use of Comic Sans.
Great Lakes Brewing Lake Erie Monster DIPA
This beer was found by accident. In a drive-through17 in Bellefontaine, Ohio, there were four-packs of this beauty. I tried desperately that night to drink all four, but my morning the flight the next day told me to leave it and dream fondly of the citrus and pine with which this divine concoction graced my tongue. Hopefully, Mom finds some more for me when she drives out here next week.
Odell’s Saboteur
Brett and coffee in the same beer? Yes. And it’s good? Yes. What a great surprise this beer was. There was so much going on in this brown-with-brett brew. Perfect for pairing with almost anything. I wish I had another right now.
Mikkeller 1000 IBU
1000 IBU’s shouldn’t even be drinkable18. Sure, it will be hoppy as hell, but some balance is nice once in a while. Well, Mikkeller somehow figured 1000 IBU’s out a way to make it work. This beer is so smooth and drinkable. It’s quite surprising. They figured out a way to capture the actual taste of hops.
Ken Schmidt/Maui/Stone Kona Coffee Macadamia Coconut Porter
I don’t normally go for porters but this one is hard to resist. The coffee, macadamia, and coconut meld perfectly to brew a beer that is just sweet enough to delight. This beer and the black pilsner Stone also collaborated to make are two of my favorite beers of the last couple of years.
Bonus: My go-to beer of the year is Lagunitas Hop Stoopid
Everyone has to have that inexpensive beer they can pick up whenever from the store at a moment’s notice without spending a wad of cash. At $4 a pop, 22 0z. of this hop bomb is all I need. It seems every time I go to the store to buy some beer, I leave with a Hop Stoopid as well.
Look to see if any of the albums or beers on this list hold up in December. I figure most if not all of the beers and about half of the albums will make the year-end top-10’s. What have I missed?
Notes:19
1Plus, I have this Tumblr thing going and a kid, etc.
2Partly this is due to saving some money and partly due to chillwave.
3One of the two best Interpol tracks I’ve ever heard was recorded by Britt.
4Except that if you read this blog, that’s all I write about.
5For the record, I never really like the Smithereens that much. The comparison just fits, me thinks.
6My sister used to just buy records based on the fact they were reviewed in Pitchfork and the band was from Canada. The Pitchfork thing doesn’t work as well anymore, but the Canadian thing does…except for Nickleback and Barenaked Ladies.
7Possibly a Canadian indie band criteria?
8Cranky, old record store clerk line.
9I’m sure that I’m the first to say this.
10My father-in-law couldn’t get over how much this dude reminded him of Dylan.
11In this sentence, “balls” and “PBR” are interchangeable.
12I think I just wrote New Jersey’s new state motto/tagline.
13I wish someone had gone back in time with this album on cassette tape, handed me a copy, and told me that this would be my favorite band. It sort of feels like they did.
14!!!!!!!!
15The last two will join Pavement, TTMONE, Titus, Wolf Parade, and Broken Social Scene for P4k. I’m really looking forward to that weekend in July.
16I know. I know.
17These are big in Ohio. You drive through a building with beverages and snack items lining the walls. You order without getting out of the car, pay, and drive off with a load of beer. I used to think every state had drive-throughs. I found out I was wrong.
18It is thought that most people can only taste up to 100-120. Your hoppy beers start in the 50’s and usually top out in the 80’s. Crazy hop bombs usually claim 100 IBU’s. 1000 IBU’s is insane.
19I nearly forgot the footnotes. You’re welcome.
Craft Beer “Week”
Beer is in the blog’s title, so I should give it space. Last week was American Craft Beer Week. I took full advantage in exploring the many ways one enjoys craft beers1. Granted, my celebration was more than a week, but that’s the time I needed in order to fully experience all that one does with craft beer.
It all began where many American craft brewers began. A friend2 and I devised a recipe for a strong dark Belgian ale while drinking a few Belgians along the way. A lot of the best craft brewers started out brewing their own after discovering the many possibilities for beer in Belgium. We threw back three nice beers over cheese and crackers while pouring through books and websites that would help us formulate our brew, which is tentatively called “Belgian Budweiser”. However, if the lawyers at InBev and I have any say, that moniker will change3.
The following day was a rainy afternoon where I found myself in front of a Wallace & Gromit marathon with my daughter. In order to fight off the cold, rainy weather, I sipped on a Great Divide Oak-aged Yeti. We beer geeks love our imperial stouts, but we love them even more when the vanilla-like esters are released from the oak barrels4.
A friend stopped by a little later to share an Avery Maharaja, his favorite beer. His love for batch 9 carried him through a somewhat disappointing batch 10 last year in hopes batch 11 would not let us down. It didn’t. Upon finishing the hoppy, mango-like nectar, I pulled out one of those batch 10’s just for a comparison beer geeks refer to as a “vertical”. Batch 10 was still the lesser beer, but I have to say it’s fared well over the last year.
Officially, American Craft Beer Week started with a happy hour on Monday at one of the preferred watering holes here in Columbia, Sycamore5. Though small, the bottle and tap lists are loaded with the best that Missouri distributors can conjure6 . Of course, the best part of any happy hour is the conversation. Folks I knew from the Columbia Beer Enthusiasts as well as a few people I met on Twitter7.
The week also called for some travel. My daughter and I flew to Ohio for a couple of days in order to celebrate my grandparents’ 90th birthdays. Of course, there were beer stops after landing in Columbus. I dropped some cash at Palmer’s and Weiland’s for some nice out-of-market brews. Another mark of beer geekdom is our commitment to beer tourism. Even when we don’t go on a trip specifically for the beer, we’re always sure to pick up something not available in our home states.
I didn’t just buy; I consumed. A Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale8 paired well with my North Star Thai burrito. Jeni’s Ice Cream supplied me with both a Kona Stout ice cream as well as a Cherry Lambic Sorbet to go along with my scoop of Buckeye State. There was some Great Lakes’ Commodore Perry IPA waiting for me at my parents’ place. We followed that with my own Wowee Zowee.
Maybe the best part of craft beer geekery is finding a hidden treasure. On our way to my folk’s place after the birthday party, we hit a small town drive-through for some beverages, hoping I didn’t have to break into my haul from Columbus just yet. Luckily, this was Ohio and Great Lakes beers are everywhere. Bernie’s Drive-Thru in Bellefontaine had four packs of the Lake Erie Monster. This beer had to be maybe the best of the week and possibly year. It’s one balanced imperial IPA. So hoppy, but with a strong malt backbone. I would have finished the four pack on my own had it not been a 9.1% boozer of a beer.
The return home brought more beer over the weekend. It was also stifling hot9, weather so hot that it motivated my wine-drinking partner to request a beer. Out came the New Glarus Belgian Red, as cherry a beer as I’ve ever had. Despite its girlie fruitiness, this beer hit the spot after a long day of travel through the near-90 degree weather.
A friend showed up10 for dinner and we cracked open a local/STL brew by Schlafly. The Grand Cru was chosen as a beer that would pair well with the shrimp and saffron over homemade pasta we had slated for dinner. It did go nicely and I finished the night off with one of my Ohio imports, a Dogfish Head Immort Ale11.
The following day saw us smoking meats all day long. I opted for a standard go-to beer to split among three of us. Lagunitas’ Hop Stoopid is just that kind of beer. And at $4, the price is definitely right.
That evening also happened to be the series finale of Lost12. I volunteered our house guest to join me in my second vertical tasting of the week. We sipped on Dogfish Head World Wide Stouts from 2007 and 2008. The ’07 was quite phenomenal: complex, smooth, boozy. The ’08 was pretty great as well, but it had a strong coffee thing going and some of its fizz gave it more mouth feel. Of course, after drinking 12 oz. worth of an 18% ABV beer, who knows if I remember the details accurately.
The long “week” that was dedicated to American craft beer ended appropriately13 at a local brewery where the Columbia Beer Enthusiasts gathered some of our favorite pale ales and IPA’s for a tasting14. The bottles were passed quickly around the table, nearly knocking me on my ass. A Gordon here, Hop Henge there. The hops were flowing, finally wearing me down after a great week of drinking.
Appropriately, I finished the last of the Wowee Zowee. My beer stood up well to a powerful list of IPA’s Monday night. And as my beer ended its run, so did the longest American Craft Beer Week ever15.
I don’t know exactly what the point of this post was supposed to be. I guess I just wanted to share all the ways in which craft beer can be enjoyed16. There’s the getting back to the roots of the movement through Belgian beers and homebrewing. I drank beers that suited the weather or the cuisine. Vertical tastings were experienced as well as old stand-bys. Beers were shared and beers were smuggled in my suitcase. It’s a big deal and certainly worth more than a week of my year. I guess that’s why I celebrated eleven days.
Notes:
1It’s not like I don’t do this all the time. I just did more than usual over the last week+.
2Who happens to be a chocolate maker, the same chocolate maker who sold me some cocoa nibs for a beer I brewed a couple of weeks ago.
3I’m thinking that the name of our “brewery” might be Belgium Budweiser or some mashup of the two terms. The beer itself should be based on some scary Belgian folktale. Anyone know of any evil characters from Belgian folklore?
4Seriously, if you drink an oak-aged beer, pay close attention to that vanilla character. Some brewers use actual barrels while others just toss in a load of oak chips.
5Well, the official part is Monday, not necessarily our happy hour/Tweetup.
6 Which is better than we sometimes give credit. They do a nice job of bringing in beers from Michigan and Colorado. If we could just get more beer from the coasts…
7We had a “Tweetup”. They call it a “Tweetup”.
8This may be the best beer to pair with any food. The dark malt gives it a sweetness and roastiness that pairs with fatty meats that are either grilled or smoked. The hops hold up to anything with spice. The balance of the beer means that none of these characteristics overtake the others. Really. It’s the perfect beer for food.
9Summer has arrived in Missouri, a time when we officially change the name to “Misery”. (This is not a reference to my old blog.)
10Oddly enough, from Ohio where I had just left via plane. We passed over him on our way home.
11A bit of a letdown, but at 11% ABV, I could cellar it and see what happens.
12This has got to be the best show in TV history. However, why can’t good TV shows make good finales. It was good to a point, but a letdown in the end.
13Actually, I felt as though I ended the craft beer debauchery this evening with another smuggled beer, Green Flash Imperial IPA. What a great beer. I may have to take a few days off from the hops.
14My friend and I brought Three Floyds Apha King, Alesmith IPA, and the very last Wowee Zowee.
15Not counting the dudes who have 2-3 really good craft beers every night of the year. Their weeks never end.
16Of course, I don’t know whether I’ve accomplished this, but I don’t have time for revisions. I can hear my readers ending their real simple subscriptions to my blog as I type this.
Beer and Pavement 
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