Session Reminder

Just a reminder that this Friday, Lew Bryson is hosting, and the topic is smoked beers (coincidentally, The Atlantic has a short piece on Bavarian Schlenkerla). I've been pretty busy with work and life so I don't know if I'll be able to participate. If I do, it will surely rate a fail due to Lew's one demand:

Because I'm not going to tell you that you have to like them, how you have to drink them, or whether you can have an expensive one or where it has to be from. But I do insist that if you blog on this Session, that you drink a smoked beer that day.

Which I'm sure means that some of you will fail to do that and proudly blog about it and have what you think is a real good reason. I swear, it's like trying to push string...

That's kind of tough, because I won't be home from work until after 6, and then there's dinner, and I will likely have plans Friday with people who couldn't care less about smoked beer of beer blogging. Drink on Thursday, post on Friday, I say. Still a nice topic.

Genesee Bock Beer (NY)

Session #25: Lager. The Beer Nut suggests we "return to our roots" and calls for us to leave those fancy-pants imported lagers aside. In his kick off post, he also writes up Dundee Honey Brown Lager and calls it the very sort of fancy-pants imported lager we should not be blogging about, and this is a problem for me, for whom Dundee Honey Brown is local, not imported, and stands as the quintessential middlebrow brau. There is roughly the same amount of space between it and Budweiser as there is between Applebee's and Wendy's. So what lager can I find that fills the space between craft and crap?

Actually, The Beer Nut backtracks a bit and says Honey Brown is exactly the sort of beer we should discuss. Nonetheless, I felt self-conscious about over-shooting this one. Fortunately for me, this is the time of year where Genesee (ultimately, the same brewery that makes the Dundee line) releases its "special edition" Bock Beer. The brew is a bit darker than The Beer Nut's recommended pilseners, light lagers, or helleses, but it runs about $6.50 for a 12-pack, so I don't think I aimed too high on this one. And how can anyone resist the early-60s-wallpaper style can design?

Genny Bock is attractive enough to justify pouring into a glass: clear amber with a big (but superficial) head. On the tongue, it's over-carbonated and light-bodied. The finish will prove to be metallic (or maybe that's just me fixating on the can). But before that, it's a pretty good beer. A little caramel flavor, some very light floral hops. It's not too sweet or corny or rice-y. It doesn't warm all that well, but is more than just thirst-quenching for 90 degree days. It's damn well better than any other Genesee beer. I never regret buying a full 12-pack, although one pack a year usually suffices.

I can't say Genny Bock is really a 'roots' beer for me. I didn't drink this in high school or college, and it wasn't a regular choice for me before I became connoisseur and hobbyist. Still, I'm glad to see it when it comes out each year. It's what an unpretentious value lager should be, and it's a shame there aren't many American regional breweries that produce stuff like this anymore.

Session #25: Lager

A reminder that this Friday is the next Session. Hosted by The Beer Nut from Dublin, the intent is to get "back to basics":

Don't even think about cheating the system: leave your doppelbocks and schwarzbiers out of this one: I want pilsners, light lagers, helleses and those ones that just say "beer" because, well, what else would it be?

This has already lead to a bunch of comments asking what "counts" as a lager here. Hopefully, some of these discussions will pop up in the Session posts themselves. 

The Session: Three Tripels

The topic of Session 24 is "A Tripel for Two." As David at Musings Over a Pint explains:

Beer is best when it's shared, and a strong beer is just right for sharing. Belgian Tripels are big beers with a flavor profile that is enjoyed by both experienced and new beer fans. Be it an intimate evening, or watching a ball game on TV, a Tripel is made for sipping and sharing. For Session #24 the theme is "A Tripel for Two." What Tripel would you pick to share with that good friend, family member, or lover?

As is often the case, the topic seems to assume we'll write about a beer we've had before. I've only reviewed one Tripel so far, the unusual dark Tripel from Abbaye d’Aulne, and I've only ever drank one or two others. The Tripel Brune raises a question: must this style be light in color, or is tripel-ness just a question of heft? I kind of lean toward the former, but am not going to get all pissy about it.

I decided to sample three Tripels. I did not drink these all on the same night, and only the Sprecher did I share.

Maredous 10: Love the stubby bottle. The price point suggests that this may be a second tier Belgian, as it clocks in at a couple bucks less per bottle than the really expensive ones. The 10 refers to 10% ABV, and the alcohol indeed makes its presence felt. Cloudy orange-gold with a meringue head that stays after the party is over. Peachy, spicy, slightly tangy, and a bit boozy. Feels like champagne. Maybe the best of the three for both "sipping and sharing."

St. Bernardus Watou Tripel: This is a better beer overall, just too pricey to share unless it's an intimate setting with someone you know will appreciate it. St. Bernardus makes two tripels; how many other breweries do that? Watou is a town in Flanders, by the way. This slender-bottled beer is mellower than Maredsous. It's "only" 7.5%, a little paler in color, more bubblegummy in aroma, and I think a bit lighter in carbonation. As with Maredsous, the foam outlasts the beer itself. Great creamy body. Honey and fruit (oranges?), but ultimately dry. My favorite of the three.

Sprecher Abbey Triple: I wanted to toss in one American take on the style, and chose Sprecher because it seemed so unlikely. This Wisconsin brewery rightly specializes in lagers. Abbey Triple is sold in a bruising 16 ounce bottle that has a twist off cap, for god's sake. 8.4% ABV. Relatively cheap at around $8 a 4-pack, it's good for sharing with any company, but alas, not really for sipping. It's lighter in color than the others, more clear, and with a less impressive head. The ABV notwithstanding, I can see guzzling this in the summer. Fruity and sweet, it only scratches the surface of Belgian yeast complexity. And yet, it's a tasty beer. If you don't hold it to the lofty standards of a Tripel -- maybe pretend it's a fruit beer -- Sprecher's take is pretty good. Non-beer nerd friends were fond as well.

So there you go. I had a lot of fun with this style, and am curious to see what other Tripels people are drinking.

The Session 24: Tripel

The Session for January is being hosted by David at Musings Over a Pint, and the topic is A Tripel for Two.  This is mostly a return to the earlier days of beer style topics, although the "for two" adds a twist. 

What Tripel would you pick to share with that good friend, family member, or lover? 

The Session is two weeks from today (February 6th) and I intend to play along. I'll be curious to see if anyone has a specific reason why one tripel is especially suited for sharing, aside from it simply being a great beer. 

He'Brew Jewbelation Eleven (NY)

So The Session decides to focus on anniversaries just as I reach my one year blogging anniversary. If ever there's an anniversary to celebrate with a beer, it's this. I pity the beer blogger who decided to shoe-horn his wedding anniversary into a beer blog post. "Honey, guess what I have planned for Friday..."

For the most part, I celebrate special occasions (e.g., Christmas, New Year's Eve) with wine or champagne rather than beer. It isn't always my choice, but I drink enough beer that it takes another beverage for it to feel like a special occasion. Also, one thing I like about beer, is you don't have to save up to afford the pricier ones. Really, there shouldn't be any 'special occasion' beers.

BarleyBlog asks:

Why is it a beer you may only drink once a year? Why is that brewery’s annual release the one you selected?

Well, this isn't a beer I drink once a year. I've never had it before. I chose it because I'm currently running through much of He'Brew's product line. Also, when at the beer store, I couldn't tell whether Victory 12 was an anniversary beer or not, so I passed on that.

Jewbelation Eleven is made with 11 malts and 11 hops and clocks in at 11% ABV to mark the brewery's 11th anniversary. How long can they keep this up? Until 13 or 14? On top of this, they actually use the same malts/hops as last year, but add one each per year (Spelt and Amarillo in this case). I haven't tried any previous He'Brew anniversary ales, but I'm guessing they don't simply keep the same recipe and add to it; instead they re-work it. Possibly the 11 count is a bit of a put on: some malts and hops may appear as much for the tally as for the taste.

This monster pours very dark brown. I didn't get a full head, but I'll take the blame for that. Eleven is more malt than hops, tasting primarily of roasted chocolate and then of dark fruits and maybe some spice. It's vaguely reminiscent to me of the reverse of a strong Belgian, which I think of as dark fruits first (plums, prunes, figs...) with chocolate cake underneath. But Belgians also lack the moderately bitter hop finish of Jewbelation Eleven. This pulls it back dry. As it warms, the hops become more prominent. Maybe some alcohol warmth comes through then as well. Jewb11 is full-bodied and low fizzed (as I like it), and is hard to do anything but share and/or sip.

I mentioned above that the 11 counts may be merely for show. If that's the case, then it's a good thing, as it doesn't come across as a haphazard blend of too many ingredients. Still, you have to get into the spirit of American big beers to enjoy Jebwelation Eleven. I'm not a size snob, but I will say that this is one of the top beers I've reviewed so far. It's a decent bargain too at just over $5 a bomber. Happy Anniversary to me!

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?

Samuel Smith's Organically Produced Ale (ENG)

Beer Activist is hosting The Session in March and chose organic beer as the topic, which is a departure from the usual style-oriented topics. I liked the two organic beers I've reviewed already: Samuel Smith's Organic Lager and Orlio Black Lager. For The Session, I chose the Tadcaster brewery's other organic offering.

This ale pours clear golden with a fluffy white head. It has that Samuel Smith's texture that I love: fairly full, restrained carbonation, creamy. The flavor is on the subtle side, at least compared with American takes on the style. Slightly bitter hops are accompanied by lemon and somewhat acidic notes. The finish is mostly clean. It's a fairly good beer, but in some respects, I was more pleased with their organic lager. I suspect this has to do with my expectations. As an American, I expect pale lagers to be flavorless pale ales to be hop-laden. This isn't really fair to Samuel Smith's, I'll admit.

As far as the politics of organic go, I'm more likely to jump on the "local" side of the local vs. organic debates (of course, SS is organic but not local). Some of this is because I have more confidence that the person at my local farmer's market is really local than I do that the food labeled organic is really organic. When I read that Wal-Mart is trying to make a dent in the organic market, I cynically assume they'll just try to lower the standards for the category. But my foodie leanings trump both local and organic considerations. There's a local natural foods store that is loaded with dreck such as organic canned mac 'n cheese that I wouldn't eat with your tongue. Of course, in many cases, organic, local and tasty coincide.

Will this be the case for organic beer? It's hard to tell. Remember, the brewer may not be trying to appeal to craft beer fans, but to organic shoppers who are merely looking for a more socially-conscious version of Miller Genuine Draft. I guess we'll see. Anyway, check out SS's Organic Ale if you'd like, but I'd rather steer people toward Orlio Black Lager, which is less well-known but a good beer, IMO.

Rohrbach Brewing Kasey's Kristmas Ale (NY)

Due to either forgetfulness or lack of ideas about the topic, I have yet to participate in The Session. This month, Barley Vine chose the straightforward Winter Seasonal as the topic, and I figured I'd join in.

I chose something local: Rohrbach's is a brewery and restaurant located in Rochester, NY. I went with them because the upside of championing someone local exceeded, in my mind, the downside of writing about a beer most of you can't obtain. Rohrbach's doesn't bottle, but their beer can be found on tap in local bars and other spots (such as at minor league baseball games), as well as in growlers, both at the brewery and in a few stores.

Kasey's Kristmas Ale is "a holiday ale made with chocolate malt and real cherries." That's pretty much it. It smells like chocolate-covered cherries and tastes like them too. The ale pours dark brown with red shading that shows up when you hold it to the light. Foamy white head, some lacing. The scent isn't overwhelming, as though you stuck your nose right in a Valentine's Day candy box, but it's clearly in that direction. The taste follows with sweet, very slightly tart, cherries. If I didn't know what it was, I might think it was chocolate-covered raisins. There are dabs of hops to keep it in check, but it isn't at all bitter. Sweet, but not quite cloying.

For me, the downside is the body. It has the small bubble carbonation I like, but it's kind of watery. I don't know what the alcohol content is, but it doesn't seem high. This isn't a hefty, warming winter beer; in fact, it's a guzzler.

So, ultimately, what's the difference between this and Saranac Caramel Porter which I recently panned for being sweet and thin? I guess I just like the taste of Rohrbach's seasonal better, it's less fizzy, and perhaps I count the fact that Saranac calls its beer a porter against it. That being said, I suspect there are those who would find that the Rohrbach isn't their thing. Kaseys Kristmas Ale's is worth a try if you're in the area. If you aren't, find your hometown brewer's local seasonal and try that instead.