American Craft Beer Week

Nice shout out for American Craft Beer Week (May 12-18) on the Colbert Report. Alas, Stephen seems to think Pabst Blue Ribbon is a microbrew.

La Caracole Saxo (BEL)

Brasserie La Caracole is located in Walloon region of Belgium. The label shows a snail (the brewery's mascot) blowing a saxophone (Adolph Sax is from the same town as the brewery). This Belgian Blond Ale clocks in at 7.5% and costs $4.19 for 330ml.

While pouring, I thought I caught a whiff of lager -- lemony lager -- and it turns out this is made with Pilsener malt and Saaz hops. It's cloudy orange-yellow with a nice white head. The label recommends serving at 46 degrees; I drank it at about 5 degrees warmer. Still, this suggests to me that it's supposed to be a summery brew, and it's in fact supported by a somewhat light body and spritzy carbonation.

To me, this is one of those beers which, if you don't like it, it's because you think it doesn't all come together, not because you think it's dull. It's yeasty and lemony, a bit tart even. Among the esters I pick out cherries and banana. It's a whole bowl of fruit, but the end pulls back with some dryness. The alcohol isn't obtrusive while drinking but warms my gut afterwards. Saxo's particularly enjoyable if you drink a lot of different beers and start to feel they taste the same. I only wish I had a larger bottle to explore all the flavors.

Otter Creek Otter San (VT)

I like this Otter Creek World Tour Series. I've only reviewed the Jamaican stout so far, but really should have tried more of them. Special series are, of course, a good way to boost sales without over-extending the product line. Otter Creek's is amicably affordable (this was $4.59 a bomber), cutely packaged and intriguing, as opposed to pricey, aggressive ("Kick Ass Imperial IPA") and exhaustingly big.

Otter San is described as "a full-bodied pale amber ale brewed with rice, pilsner malt, Hallertauer hops, authentic Koji, and sake yeast." The color is yellow or khaki (my picture doesn't really show this) and there's a decent head. The body is viscous with a light hand on the carbonation. I'd like to think that even drinking blind, I'd have guessed the Asian theme. Both the aroma and the flavor have a rice sweetness to them, as well as a vague hint of sake (which, contrary to common understanding, is more beer than wine). It's also a tad perfumey. Forget the brewer's description of a "pale amber ale." More malt than hops and more sweet than bitter, Otter San reminds me most of lager (maybe it's the rice) and maybe secondarily of an old English ale, but that's not really quite right. No idea of the ABV here; I'm guessing 5-6%.

If it's not an unqualified success, it's still a fun beer to sample. Try it with sushi.

Blue Dawg Wild Blue (NY)

Anheuser-Busch does a pretty good job of hiding traces of their fingerprints from this one. I saw a six-pack in my supermarket and had only a vague recollection of the name. A fruit beer at 8%? Award winning? Seems interesting. Baldwinsville, NY should have tipped me off, or perhaps the poseur-ish "dawg" brewery name.

Not that I prejudged it because of the brewery. In fact, this actually turned out to be not quite as bad as I'd heard (though it's still pretty bad). It's heavy on the blueberry, although I wonder if they could pass it off as grape. The sweetness is at the level of an alcopop. It's a bit syrupy. The back end has a trace of hops that doesn't jibe with the rest of it. Rating by style -- and defining the style simply as beer -- it would score terribly, but it actually makes for a passable, high school grade spiked punch. That's really not what I was looking for, but I do have some acquaintances who probably wouldn't mind taking the rest of the sixer.

Sour Beer Study

Apologies to A Good Beer Blog for borrowing the title. I've been reading Dan Ariely's book on behavioral economics Predictably Irrational. In one chapter, Ariely describes a study at an MIT bar (Muddy Charles) in which they fed patrons a special "MIT brew" which was in fact Budweiser or Sam Adams laced with balsamic vinegar. Those who weren't told what the special ingredient was liked the beer better than did those who were. A third group who was told about the inclusion of vinegar after drinking but before offering an opinion. They liked the beer about as much as the first group (those who weren't told at all). This seems to indicate that our perceptions of taste are affected by foreknowledge, but it isn't a case of "poseur-ism" (i.e., people saying they disliked something only after finding out what was in it).

I'm not sure if admitting you like beer with balsamic vinegar has any stigma attached to it, so this doesn't really measure snobbism. For beer geeks, giving them a blind-labeled Anheuser-Busch product would be the test. Still, as most of us don't taste blind, it does suggests that expectations are influential (not a surprise to many of us, I'm sure). It also made me want to try beer with balsamic vinegar. Two drops per ounce was the recipe.

There's another chapter in the book uses the Carolina Brewery as part of a test to observe ordering behavior as a gauge of the need for uniqueness. The upshot was that customers at the same table went out of their way to order different beers from one another. (The researchers watched to make sure this was not a case of wanting to share.) Satisfaction was higher when orders were taken privately and people just ordered what they wanted. Ariely claims that in Hong Kong, diners in a group will have a tendency order the same dish regardless of what they really want, the opposite of in the US. They don't want to be unique. I personally wouldn't think twice of ordering what someone else has, but I pretty much always order one of the specials.

Anyway, Predictably Irrational is a pretty interesting book if you're into that sort of thing (economics that is, not beer).

Ithaca TEN (NY)

I've tried two beers from Ithaca's Excelsior series: IPAbbey and White Gold. Ithaca TEN is brewed in celebration of their tenth anniversary. It is:

an Imperial American Extra Strong and Special Double Red Ale. Our anniversary beer, TEN, is brewed with too many malts to list and an excess of American hops, including several additions during fermentation. Enjoy the russet color, aggressively hoppy aroma and flavor, rich body and fiery finish.

This is a kitchen-sinker all the way. It pours a slightly cloudy reddish-brown with a fabulous off-white head. It emits an aroma of Northwest IPA-style grapefruit and/or pine (ratebeer has this listed as an Imperial IPA, Beer Advocate as an American Strong Ale). The taste has the same elements, but they aren't all that's there. At times, it comes across with almost caramel sweetness. There are also a lemony notes and some peppery spiciness. The overall effect isn't really all that bitter. But it is big, serving almost as a juiced up version of Cascazilla.

Big beer fans should give this a try if you can find it. Others may find it an example of American brewing excess. At nearly $10 for 750 ml, it's pricey, but it's a sipper, and you can split a bottle 2-3 ways.

Session 15: How it all began

This month’s Session asks how we first became interested in good beer. I’ll confess to not having any single “Eureka!” moment. In fact, my initial answer was simply to say that I live near the retail mecca Beers of the World. At some point I figured, I live near this place, I should shop there (I started cooking Indian food for a similar reason). But that doesn’t explain everything.

My story probably isn’t unlike that of many other Americans. I drank illegally in high school and college (until I turned 21). Those days, I drank beer to get drunk. The beer was cheap and weak; quality isn’t important when you’re doing keg stands or playing quarters. The object was often to pound brews as quickly as possible so as to maintain your buzz the rest of the night after you leave the dorm. I didn’t know much beyond the world of US mass brands and regionals. And I didn’t necessarily like the beer I was drinking. In fact, taste seemed beside the point.

Later in life, I got into wine a bit (my father’s a big wine guy), went through a period where I drank hard liquor, and then doubled back to beer. This time it was the good stuff. I had the money to afford it and wasn’t just trying to get plastered. I started regularly visiting Beers of the World. Interestingly, I don’t think my impulse was finding great drinks so much as it was simple curiosity. How many different ways could beer taste? And what’s with all these Indian beers (you know, India Pale Ales)?

I developed a liking for a lot of the beers – I recall Gosser Dark being an early favorite – and have since been encouraged by friends (although nearly all are, alas, macro drinkers) and internet sites, including beer blogs.

In truth, none of this would have happened if I didn’t have a natural inclination toward connoisseurship. Like many middle class blue staters, I want to expand my tastes and try the best of what’s out there, and I don’t worry about whether I like what everyone else likes. No doubt, if I were running for president, I’d be branded an elitist (by scotch-drinking political commentators, nonetheless).

Looking back, I wonder how this topic plays out by nationality (and age too, I suppose; I was a teenager during the ‘80s when the craft beer movement was much less developed). Our 21 drinking age undoubtedly affects American drinking habits. The extended period of illicit juvenile drinking imprints upon us attitudes that are hard to shake, and I’ve often thought that it makes for a less smooth transition away from adolescent binging to a more mature approach. Does it push us into distinct two groups: beer geeks and average Joes? Is there a middle ground we’re missing?

Negra Modelo (MEX)

How do you like that beer? You know, they brought German Burgermeisters over here back in about 18 hundred and something. Who knows? Long time ago. Some of the best beer in the world comes from Mexico.
-Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia

In fact, it doesn't, Benny, but it is true about the German (or Austrian) connection to Mexican beer. Negra Modelo is, IMO, probably the nest Mexican beer readily available in the US. Still, this isn't a dark lager to match the best of Vienna. It looks pretty: clear amber rather than pale yellow. And there's both more malt and more hops than in a Corona or Pacifica. Still, it's pretty light, and buried beneath too much carbonation. At the end, you can just barely taste some roasted coffee maltiness. There isn't enough, though. Then again, a proper Vienna lager probably wouldn't suit Chile Rellenos or an afternoon at the beach.