Greetings to 2010 and good riddance to '09!
And now I will pause and, a weather finger to the wind, will make a prognostication... In the next year there will be a move to Mild.
That is to say, there will be a chance for brewers from the mega-micros to the brewpubs will discover the range of flavorful brews that have been known in the UK as "Mild."
These are amber ales, with a touch of hops (usually Kent or Brewers Gold) on a non-too-sweet malt base. The beauty of this brew is that it is tasty and yet is only 4% at most in alcohol content by volume. This gives the brewer a brew that costs less to produce, it gives the consumer a chance to look "correct" and still have a tasty beverage that they can enjoy for taste and less for effect. It gives the brewing industry a truly "temperate" beverage that is a challenge to the neo-prohibitionists.
Best of all, it gives me a reason to put two - not just one - six pack on ice the next hot summer day that comes around.
And that is a very comforting thought on a cold and frosty last night of 2009, in Brooklyn, USA...
Cheers!
Peter LaFrance
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
A Taste of… Black Cauldron Imperial Stout
Grand Teton Brewing Company
Victor, ID (USA)
Preface: I would like to thank the good folks at Grand Teton brewing company for sending me this bottle of Black Cauldron Imperial Stout.Victor, ID (USA)
Appearance: This is an incredibly dense dark black beer. It is topped with a sparkling closely knit head of tiny bubbles that form a good Belgian lace on the side of the glass.
Aroma: The first impression is of prune, the second is more of a ripe plum, the final impression begins to include a very slight phenol. The flavors revealed between sip and lip announced neither flavor nor aroma.
The first impression is a steely grain sensation. Next comes a more metallic aroma with citric undertones. The lip to sip aromatics echo the previous.
Mouth feel: There is a full but not viscous feel to this brew.
Flavor: The immediate flavors and station is one of dried fruits particularly dried cherries and plums. The second step reveals some lasses that before the flavor is finished becomes a burned candy flavor. The third step reveals some sour cherry at the very back of the sensation chain. Overall, there is not a great deal of sweetness.
Finish: The flavor profile is echoed in the finish. As noted above, this is not a sweet beer. It must also be noted that it does not have an ashy flavor. The finish is remarkably smooth dry and balanced.
Comments: I will admit that the label, what could be assumed to be to alewives, rather attractive at that, standing over a black cauldron with a sheaf of barley in their hands I was intrigued.
There must be a great deal of sweet to this beer and has not been beaten to death by bitter hops.
The label notes that this brew is 8% alcohol by volume. There is no information on a label to hint at whether they used in ale or lager yeast to ferment this beer. It is called “Imperial Stout”, a moniker that has no official definition in the most brewing dictionaries. Nevertheless the label portends a comforting rather than threatening beer.
The contents deliver on what is anticipated after looking at the label. After the first half of a pint the warmth does have a tendency to creep up on you and that’s not a bad thing.
As this is the holiday season and is it is almost 1130 in the morning as I write this, I do believe I shall not dispose of what’s left of this beer after this tasting. I do believe I just might take another 15 minutes or so to enjoy what’s left of this brew.
Grand Teton Brewing Company: http://www.grandtetonbrewing.com/
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Friday, September 25, 2009
Beer Goes With… Redux
Greetings,
Two Saturdays ago the folks in Waterbury, CT held the fourth annual Brass City Brewfest in Library Park. The event featured beers from all over the North Easter New England area. There were also a few of the major breweries represented and considering that there are actually only three of them they were well represented. The import companies, especially those affiliated with Belgian brewers were very popular with the tasters.
The special feature of this event was a speakers tent where there were featured four beer related topics presented by a number of speakers.
Those interested in tasting beers, rather than setting personal consumption records, were introduced by Gregg Glaser, the editor of the Yankee Brew News, to the special six styles that every beer drinker should be aware of.
A maple sap beer was poured and sampled while sergeant and publican Albin Weber of the Fifth Connecticut Regiment, a speaker in the military uniform of that unit as worn during the American Revolution in the 1700’s explained the importance of beer and taverns at that time in history.
An owner of a local homebrew shop showed the basic equipment to make home brewed beer and answered essential questions for those there to question her after her presentation.
And then there was a quick explanation by a local brewer of why canned beer is good beer if the beer in the can is good beer before it went into the can. If it was not good beer before it went into the can the can is not to blame for that. But I digress…
It is food and beer that are the usual topic at hand for this blog so I will post the question… What is the ideal beer-fest food? What kind of food makes for a happy beer-fest food-wise?
I can tell you that at the above mentioned event there were three or four food venders. All under the watchful eye of a government food inspector with her clipboard and instant read thermometer.
My pulled pork on a bun was safe as far as the inspector was concerned.
I will admit that I was drawn by the tattoos of the woman serving the food rather than the actual food itself.
The beer at hand was a two ounce taste of locally brewed brown ale mixed with a two ounce sample of a beer made with honey. It was a good pairing of beer and beer and food.
The competition was formidable… especially the hotdog. The rest is noted on their very professional looking menu (posted at the top of this blog) leading me to suspect that this menu is not tailored specifically for beer events.
All of that noted… I repeat…
What is the ideal beer-fest food?
What kind of food makes for a happy beer-fest food-wise?
Friday, August 14, 2009
That First Taste of… homebrewed Pale Ale
As I remember it, the weather was warm so it had to be either late spring or early autumn of 1976 or 1977 when the idea of brewing my own beer found me, as I sat on the floor of a now-defunct book store in Ossining, New York. The slim, thin paperback book was written by some British fellow and had been published in Canada. All of the measurements were in the metric system and the temperatures were in Centigrade. It told me how to brew my own beer. It told me not only could I brew my own beer but that it was even better than anything on the market.
At the time I had just finished a few years in New England, Vermont to be specific. There I had been introduced to “stubbies” of Labatt and Molson, the “stronger” beers from Canada. Now that I was back in Ossining I was sure I could find more of the same. I was wrong and had to survive on Schmidt’s’ Tiger Ale, Ballantine Pale India Ale and Pabst Blue Ribbon.
It was the Pabst Blue Ribbon that got me thinking that there might be something to the homebrewing idea. The bottles I would haul back and forth from the fridge to Fiories’ Beverage were sturdy, heavy duty, brown and crown capped. The book said that these were ideal for homebrewing. And then I told someone else about my idea and there was no stopping. You can brag about how many brews you downed the night before but you have to deliver if you brag that you can brew your own beer.
And so it was that the two of us (me and the person I had boasted to) stood in the musty old wine supply house on Spring Street in a rather dingy corner of what folks were calling SoHo (South of Houston Street). The one and only sales person was reciting a list of bits and pieces that we would need to get the brewing thing in operation. As I listened to the list it occurred to me that the book had mentioned that the experience should set me back only twenty or so American dollars. This was getting out of hand. Begging poverty we departed and wondered what the next step would be.
Not to be deterred we figured that if a wine supply shop was the place to go it might be a better idea to see if there was one closer to Ossining, headquarters for the operation. Those were the days of the rotary dial telephone, the telephone books of white and yellow. Both of us, recent veterans of higher education, chose the yellow pages and found a business called “Wine-Art” in Elmsford, NY.
It was a short drive to the small shop set just off the road. When asked for a homebrewing supply list the proprietor paused and asked what kind of beer we liked to drink. At the time Bass Ale was the most exotic brew I knew of so I threw that name out for consideration. He nodded and said that we were looking to brew pale ales and that it would not be too difficult. He went on to explain that malt syrup would be the basis for the brew. The hops were in a small envelope and looked like the final results of a rabbit’s digestive process. He then offered us two different foil envelopes marked “yeast” with red stars on them. These few things on the counter, he then asked how we were planning to brew the stuff up. I showed him the book and as I did I noted, at long last, the Wine-Arts logo on the back cover.
He flipped through it and told us that we were on the right track and that although we could probably find a kettle large enough to boil what he called “the wort”, we should probably use a glass “carboy” and five gallon “food-grade” plastic bucket for the “secondary” and “primary fermentation”… the book will set you in the right direction he said. The rubber tubing and funnel for pouring could be obtained from any kitchen but it would make sense for us to also spend a few dollars on a thermometer and hydrometer… about fifteen dollars.
We walked out of that place with the makings for the first homebrew, a five gallon glass water bottle, a white plastic bucket with tight fitted lid, a hydrometer and a thermometer about a foot long and an inch and a half around. It was a bit thing. The hydrometer, a thermometer shaped thing with a slender shape rather than the rotund temperature instrument, was a bit more mysterious. There was also a small tin can, about the size of two tinned fish cans, with a Mite-Mo label on it… something called dextrin. We were ready to brew our first beer.
I will not bore you with the details of the boiling, cooling, fermenting, and bottling of that beer other than to assure you that we waited the full two weeks the book said to wait before opening that first bottle..
I will, however, try and tell you what that first sip tasted like…
It smelled sweet from the start, a toasted grain bread aroma. Then the cool liquid cooled but didn’t chill my mouth followed in a nanosecond by a brown sugar candy flavor that was almost immediately speared by a sharp tang of almost metallic bitterness that quickly slid back as the sweet brown sugar returned and slid to the back of my mouth with the swallow of the beer. Then, as I opened my mouth there was a resonance of all those flavors in the back of my mouth and into my nasal passages where the green minty grapefruit aromas came and went as quickly as a thought. It was a sensation like none I had ever experienced before.
At the time I had just finished a few years in New England, Vermont to be specific. There I had been introduced to “stubbies” of Labatt and Molson, the “stronger” beers from Canada. Now that I was back in Ossining I was sure I could find more of the same. I was wrong and had to survive on Schmidt’s’ Tiger Ale, Ballantine Pale India Ale and Pabst Blue Ribbon.
It was the Pabst Blue Ribbon that got me thinking that there might be something to the homebrewing idea. The bottles I would haul back and forth from the fridge to Fiories’ Beverage were sturdy, heavy duty, brown and crown capped. The book said that these were ideal for homebrewing. And then I told someone else about my idea and there was no stopping. You can brag about how many brews you downed the night before but you have to deliver if you brag that you can brew your own beer.
And so it was that the two of us (me and the person I had boasted to) stood in the musty old wine supply house on Spring Street in a rather dingy corner of what folks were calling SoHo (South of Houston Street). The one and only sales person was reciting a list of bits and pieces that we would need to get the brewing thing in operation. As I listened to the list it occurred to me that the book had mentioned that the experience should set me back only twenty or so American dollars. This was getting out of hand. Begging poverty we departed and wondered what the next step would be.
Not to be deterred we figured that if a wine supply shop was the place to go it might be a better idea to see if there was one closer to Ossining, headquarters for the operation. Those were the days of the rotary dial telephone, the telephone books of white and yellow. Both of us, recent veterans of higher education, chose the yellow pages and found a business called “Wine-Art” in Elmsford, NY.
It was a short drive to the small shop set just off the road. When asked for a homebrewing supply list the proprietor paused and asked what kind of beer we liked to drink. At the time Bass Ale was the most exotic brew I knew of so I threw that name out for consideration. He nodded and said that we were looking to brew pale ales and that it would not be too difficult. He went on to explain that malt syrup would be the basis for the brew. The hops were in a small envelope and looked like the final results of a rabbit’s digestive process. He then offered us two different foil envelopes marked “yeast” with red stars on them. These few things on the counter, he then asked how we were planning to brew the stuff up. I showed him the book and as I did I noted, at long last, the Wine-Arts logo on the back cover.
He flipped through it and told us that we were on the right track and that although we could probably find a kettle large enough to boil what he called “the wort”, we should probably use a glass “carboy” and five gallon “food-grade” plastic bucket for the “secondary” and “primary fermentation”… the book will set you in the right direction he said. The rubber tubing and funnel for pouring could be obtained from any kitchen but it would make sense for us to also spend a few dollars on a thermometer and hydrometer… about fifteen dollars.
We walked out of that place with the makings for the first homebrew, a five gallon glass water bottle, a white plastic bucket with tight fitted lid, a hydrometer and a thermometer about a foot long and an inch and a half around. It was a bit thing. The hydrometer, a thermometer shaped thing with a slender shape rather than the rotund temperature instrument, was a bit more mysterious. There was also a small tin can, about the size of two tinned fish cans, with a Mite-Mo label on it… something called dextrin. We were ready to brew our first beer.
I will not bore you with the details of the boiling, cooling, fermenting, and bottling of that beer other than to assure you that we waited the full two weeks the book said to wait before opening that first bottle..
I will, however, try and tell you what that first sip tasted like…
It smelled sweet from the start, a toasted grain bread aroma. Then the cool liquid cooled but didn’t chill my mouth followed in a nanosecond by a brown sugar candy flavor that was almost immediately speared by a sharp tang of almost metallic bitterness that quickly slid back as the sweet brown sugar returned and slid to the back of my mouth with the swallow of the beer. Then, as I opened my mouth there was a resonance of all those flavors in the back of my mouth and into my nasal passages where the green minty grapefruit aromas came and went as quickly as a thought. It was a sensation like none I had ever experienced before.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
That First Taste…
I have often wondered what it was like for that first brewer to taste the first beer on earth. Naturally that never happened because the brewing of beer took time and evolved over thousands of years.
However, I can imagine, about six thousand years later, a brewer in London, England, as he opens the first bag of the new coke-roasted malted barley.
It had been specially ordered, at great expense he would add, along with a good deal more hops that he was used to using, to go into the new triple thread or what some of the brewers were calling “porter” after its popularity with the working men of the district. He had tasted and rather enjoyed his first porter and had it on good authority from many of the other brewers that this would be the answer to the pale ale swilling gentry and the stale ale merchants who were holding stock well past prime and selling it for two penny less on the market. There would always be short selling middle men and the gentry could have their rather expensive pale ale!
Now, back to the brewer who, ever since he can remember, has tasted only malted barley roasted over wood fires. Even the most closed roaster could not keep out that slight hint of smoke that he knew by heart. He was convinced that he could even tell which maltster had roasted the grain by the mixture of wood and type of wood used to roast the grain. Of course it was also his imagination… but eight out of ten correct choices at the tavern when he had been challenged was almost enough to convince him of his talent.
Let us join him on that early morning in May when he strode into the brewhouse and there they were… the first bags of malt specially roasted in one of the new coke fired roasters.
Before he could let the thought cross his mind he knew there was no touch of wood in the air that always came with a new malt shipment. Just his imagination… His sharp knife slit the top of the bag and a stream of the palest roasted malt he had ever seen spilled down the side of the bag. For a moment he watched the last of the grains spill out and reached down to take a few between his fingers only when the stream stopped.
He tested the first few grains between his front teeth and then sucked them into his mouth and chewed them with his back teeth to taste the bready heart of the grain. There was too little to tell but the difference between anything he had ever tasted before was making him impatient for another taste to prove what he already suspected.
The next half fist-full of pale ale malt was something like he had never tasted before.
The pure malt flavors were essential and his mind must have raced imagining consistent brews like he had never had a chance to brew before. If this was the pale malt in such a pure flavor state he could only imagine what the various roasted malts would taste like.
All from a first taste…
However, I can imagine, about six thousand years later, a brewer in London, England, as he opens the first bag of the new coke-roasted malted barley.
It had been specially ordered, at great expense he would add, along with a good deal more hops that he was used to using, to go into the new triple thread or what some of the brewers were calling “porter” after its popularity with the working men of the district. He had tasted and rather enjoyed his first porter and had it on good authority from many of the other brewers that this would be the answer to the pale ale swilling gentry and the stale ale merchants who were holding stock well past prime and selling it for two penny less on the market. There would always be short selling middle men and the gentry could have their rather expensive pale ale!
Now, back to the brewer who, ever since he can remember, has tasted only malted barley roasted over wood fires. Even the most closed roaster could not keep out that slight hint of smoke that he knew by heart. He was convinced that he could even tell which maltster had roasted the grain by the mixture of wood and type of wood used to roast the grain. Of course it was also his imagination… but eight out of ten correct choices at the tavern when he had been challenged was almost enough to convince him of his talent.
Let us join him on that early morning in May when he strode into the brewhouse and there they were… the first bags of malt specially roasted in one of the new coke fired roasters.
Before he could let the thought cross his mind he knew there was no touch of wood in the air that always came with a new malt shipment. Just his imagination… His sharp knife slit the top of the bag and a stream of the palest roasted malt he had ever seen spilled down the side of the bag. For a moment he watched the last of the grains spill out and reached down to take a few between his fingers only when the stream stopped.
He tested the first few grains between his front teeth and then sucked them into his mouth and chewed them with his back teeth to taste the bready heart of the grain. There was too little to tell but the difference between anything he had ever tasted before was making him impatient for another taste to prove what he already suspected.
The next half fist-full of pale ale malt was something like he had never tasted before.
The pure malt flavors were essential and his mind must have raced imagining consistent brews like he had never had a chance to brew before. If this was the pale malt in such a pure flavor state he could only imagine what the various roasted malts would taste like.
All from a first taste…
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Music to Drink Beer By
There is a legend in the bar business that Country Western music is real beer-selling music. It seems the songs about prison, a dog/horse/mama dying, love-gone-bad, and hangovers are the perfect accompaniment for the mass consumption of industrial beer.
On the other hand the consumption of a high octane (highly alcoholic content), ten year old, ebony opaque elixir that pours like sweet crude oil must have a music that would fulfill the sensual requirements for its enjoyment. I can envision that brew should be tasted to the hypnotic sounds of a French Canadian fiddle player, and the warm smell of wood fire in a cast iron stove set on a huge flagstone set in wood floor in the corner of an ancient wood frame farmhouse halfway between Montreal and Quebec City, on a frosty September night.
And then there is the sound of inlet waves on a stifling hot summer afternoon in August as they slap against the pilings and the sides of the fishing boats in a small marina, that begs to accompany a pitcher of ice cold lager.
However, music is the subject of this rant and so I shall return to topic and observe that I can think of no seventeenth century classical music that would call out for the enjoyment of the quaffing of a beer to complete the moment.
The music heard where beer was enjoyed in the world of Bach and Mozart would have been the music of the masses. The lack of pretense that is the essence of honest beer would be the perfect accompaniment to the balladeer, the dance band, the solitary stringed instrument or vocal group.
If this is accepted as truth the precedent is set and it is simply a matter of following the thread from the popular music of that time to the popular music of today; which brings us back to the romantic impressions that are iconic Country Western.
Here is a music that evokes all that folks in the United States hold sacred, self contained, insular characters who answer to no one and will whip your behind if you don’t agree with them. This is a romance that holds the honesty of manual labor above the slick maneuvering of paper-pushers. No stinking imported beer for these folks. These folks are red, white and blue nationalistic who will cling to their American beers, if they can get them for $12.00(US) a case of twelve ounce aluminum cans, all the better.
As for me, if it wasn’t so freaking isolated you would find me sipping my Imperial Stout in Quebec listening to that fiddle player for the rest of my life…
On the other hand the consumption of a high octane (highly alcoholic content), ten year old, ebony opaque elixir that pours like sweet crude oil must have a music that would fulfill the sensual requirements for its enjoyment. I can envision that brew should be tasted to the hypnotic sounds of a French Canadian fiddle player, and the warm smell of wood fire in a cast iron stove set on a huge flagstone set in wood floor in the corner of an ancient wood frame farmhouse halfway between Montreal and Quebec City, on a frosty September night.
And then there is the sound of inlet waves on a stifling hot summer afternoon in August as they slap against the pilings and the sides of the fishing boats in a small marina, that begs to accompany a pitcher of ice cold lager.
However, music is the subject of this rant and so I shall return to topic and observe that I can think of no seventeenth century classical music that would call out for the enjoyment of the quaffing of a beer to complete the moment.
The music heard where beer was enjoyed in the world of Bach and Mozart would have been the music of the masses. The lack of pretense that is the essence of honest beer would be the perfect accompaniment to the balladeer, the dance band, the solitary stringed instrument or vocal group.
If this is accepted as truth the precedent is set and it is simply a matter of following the thread from the popular music of that time to the popular music of today; which brings us back to the romantic impressions that are iconic Country Western.
Here is a music that evokes all that folks in the United States hold sacred, self contained, insular characters who answer to no one and will whip your behind if you don’t agree with them. This is a romance that holds the honesty of manual labor above the slick maneuvering of paper-pushers. No stinking imported beer for these folks. These folks are red, white and blue nationalistic who will cling to their American beers, if they can get them for $12.00(US) a case of twelve ounce aluminum cans, all the better.
As for me, if it wasn’t so freaking isolated you would find me sipping my Imperial Stout in Quebec listening to that fiddle player for the rest of my life…
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Taste of Left Hand St. Vrain Tripel
Left Hand Brewing Co.
Longmont, CO (USA)
Longmont, CO (USA)
Preface: This bottle has been hiding in the back of a closet, in the dark and never more than 70F… how long it has been there I cannot tell you. The company site says it is a seasonal and other site notes also make it a seasonal but I have no idea when it was first brewed or if this is a latest edition of the brew. Nevertheless, the following are my notes. It is 9% avb and I intend to finish the bottle so wish me luck…
Appearance: This is bright golden, crystal clear, well carbonated brew. The head is fairly tight knit foam of fine and medium sized bubbles that are not long lasting. The Belgian lace is thin.
Aroma: The first impression is a steely grain sensation. Next comes a more metallic aroma with citric undertones. The lip to sip aromatics echo the previous.
Mouth feel: This is a relatively light feeling brew.
Flavor: The first flavors are slightly tutti-fruity and then there is a sugar candy flavor that steps in and takes over. The second impression is not substantially different from the first. Aspirating the last sip (taking a small sip and sucking in air through lips drawn together to give the beer an air-kiss) reveals no additional aromatics or flavors.
Finish: There is a rush out the door by these flavors, save a banana flavor that lingers for a while longer. In the end there is more than a trace of sugar.
Comments: If I didn’t know any better I would say this is a “high-test” wheat beer fermented with some Bavarian strain of yeast… but then I should know better.
I would prescribe this brew as a summer solace to be taken on the patio of a cafe in the shade of leafy trees just after a thunderstorm.
Left Hand Brewing Co.: http://www.lefthandbrewing.com/
What others Say:
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