Me and barleywine: a new but torrid affair that has taken me from Utah to California to Pennsylvania to St. Louis. You can get it all year, but I highly suggest taking the merciless chill from a winter's night with a barleywine, and if you can get friends together to share it, even better. It might be the best bonding beer in existence. I love barelywine not as much for the flavor but for the experience. My girlfriend loves it for the flavor, and the fact that it makes her feel like she's drinking an elegant sherry in our humble apartment.
Recently I came upon two barleywines and I would highly suggest you do find some of your own. It can be jarring, so I wouldn't START with barleywine if you are a beer newbie. But if you find yourself laughing (or even better, scoffing) at your friends and whatever light swill they are drinking, you might enjoy a barleywine. At the very least, it puts you to sleep.
The Schlafly Reserve Barleywine (St. Louis) I had was from 2008. That is not an exceptionally long time to age a beer, particularly a barleywine that can easily handle 10-15 years. But I'm sure it made my glass(es) somewhat different than if I got it fresh, right off the bat. It poured with virtually no head, with minimal carbonation in both body and mouthfeel. The body is rife with hints of red and orange, lending it a copper or light rust color. The aroma is heavy on alcohol, with notes of fresh grain and a brandy quality. In the body, as I said there is little carbonation. The body and flavor run super rich and malty, typical to the style, but SRB absolutely floods the mouth with flavor. It is one of the best beers I've ever had in terms of flavor distribution: no taste bud is safe. As for what you get, SRB is oak-aged, which takes some of the bit out and replaces it with some sweetness and nuttiness. These present up front, while the slight hints of alcohol warmth and hops buddy up to them at the finish. The luxury of SRB is that none of the flavors dissipate, and the sweet malt that starts hangs on until the very end, not being replaced by any flavors, but merely partnering up with them. It's a good call, and a complex trick, but the end result is a really rewarding barleywine.
Victory's (Pennsylvania) success at barleywine unfortunately doesn't get any better than the name: Old Horizontal. It makes me think of an old man who comes down from the hills once a year with barleywine for all the little kids. Anyway, the differences between Victory and SRB are small in number, but huge in effect. Victory lands on the hoppier side of barleywines, along with, say, Blue Point's Barleywine. It has a much more robust carbonation in the body. Between the hops, the fizz, and the lack of oak-aging, Victory is a more tangy, biting brew. The hops are both piney and grapefruity, and they make up the bulk of the beer's finish. Ultimately, Victory Old Horizontal doesn't have the huge, warm flavor that I love from barleywine like SRB, and the parts just don't quite gel. Don't worry Victory. Golden Monkey, Prima Pils, Storm King: you have more amazing beers coming out of your brewery than some entire states. But for Barleywine, I'm going to hang in St. Louis for a bit. Then I'll probably take a nap.
Jan 20, 2010
Sweeeeeeeeet
I try to eat on the healthy side. The restaurant I manage focuses on healthy food, I'm a geek for a good farmer's market (Union Square!), and I prefer home cooking to eating out when I have the time/energy/will. Beer is really my only vice (ignore gummi bears). It is the only thing in my diet with little to no nutritional value . . . *cue dramatic music* . . . or so I thought.
New research is suggesting that a chemical found in hops radically reduces the risk of prostate and breast cancers. The news is that now, sitting around drinking, say, a cool pint of Goose Island IPA could be benefiting my health. The non-news is that this research was conducted in Germany. Hmmm . . . .
I envision a beautiful, brilliant future when I can come home to a house full of my girlfriend and her friends all sitting around chatting.
"Hi honey, I'm home," I'll say, placing my walking stick in its holder and preparing my monocle for the eve's viewing. "Oh no. I thought tonight was going to be just us sweetie-kins."
"But the girls wanted to come over," she'll say. "We will stay out of your hair. Promise. We know how hard it is to be the owner of New York City's most popular restaurant, not to mention a philanthropist and dashing raconteur."
"Okay. As long as I can have a Stone Double Bastard."
As the women gasp in horror at my excessive drinking and coarse language, a calm expression will cross my girlfriend's face.
"Oh Allen," she'll say with a wave of her hand. "What a health nut."
"Hahahahahaha," we'll all laugh. "Hahahahahahahaha."
New research is suggesting that a chemical found in hops radically reduces the risk of prostate and breast cancers. The news is that now, sitting around drinking, say, a cool pint of Goose Island IPA could be benefiting my health. The non-news is that this research was conducted in Germany. Hmmm . . . .
I envision a beautiful, brilliant future when I can come home to a house full of my girlfriend and her friends all sitting around chatting.
"Hi honey, I'm home," I'll say, placing my walking stick in its holder and preparing my monocle for the eve's viewing. "Oh no. I thought tonight was going to be just us sweetie-kins."
"But the girls wanted to come over," she'll say. "We will stay out of your hair. Promise. We know how hard it is to be the owner of New York City's most popular restaurant, not to mention a philanthropist and dashing raconteur."
"Okay. As long as I can have a Stone Double Bastard."
As the women gasp in horror at my excessive drinking and coarse language, a calm expression will cross my girlfriend's face.
"Oh Allen," she'll say with a wave of her hand. "What a health nut."
"Hahahahahaha," we'll all laugh. "Hahahahahahahaha."
Jan 19, 2010
Review: Boulder Beer Company Obovoid
Winter is stout and porter season. Nothing calms the chill of a harsh winter night like a big, dark, preferably high alcohol beer. Well, Boulder Beer has made Obovoid, and oak-aged oatmeal stout which seems to have every quality in place to make me love the hell out of it. And so I did.
Despite the claims on the bottle that the beer is "dark as deep space", my pour had a definite rich mahogany in body. The off-white, pushing-toward-brown head is immensely rich and creamy. As I drank it marbled wonderfully, and maintained through virtually the entire 22 oz. The aroma has some robust coffee and espresso notes as well as a mellow vanilla from the oak.
It drinks wonderfully smooth. The flavor matches the aroma to a great extent, with a rich, bold espresso up front backed up by a hint of vanilla and caramel. The oats provide a rich yet mellow backing that lesser oatmeal stouts scorch to death in search of "intensity". In various sips, the beer even has a slight cream soda/root beer quality to it, only heightening the drinkability. There is a slight tangy carbonation that is my least favorite part of the beer, but in general the mouthfeel is creamy and smooth, coating the mouth evenly and distributing the flavors wonderfully.
I was fortunate to also have this beer on draft, and I can say that it is frighteningly similar, a credit to the fantastic brewing at work here. That aforementioned tang is totally absent out of the tap, and it ups the toffee and cream factor.
After eyeing this bottle in Whole Foods forever, I was smart enough to pick one up. I suggest you do the same. Obovoid is a rich, sweet, mellow experience that shows both an adventurous spirit and the ever-more-desirable quality of restraint. With the stout, oak, and oatmeal, there were plenty of places to screw up, but Obovoid manages to combine all the parts without doing a disservice to any. Fantastic work, perfect for a chilly night.
Despite the claims on the bottle that the beer is "dark as deep space", my pour had a definite rich mahogany in body. The off-white, pushing-toward-brown head is immensely rich and creamy. As I drank it marbled wonderfully, and maintained through virtually the entire 22 oz. The aroma has some robust coffee and espresso notes as well as a mellow vanilla from the oak.
It drinks wonderfully smooth. The flavor matches the aroma to a great extent, with a rich, bold espresso up front backed up by a hint of vanilla and caramel. The oats provide a rich yet mellow backing that lesser oatmeal stouts scorch to death in search of "intensity". In various sips, the beer even has a slight cream soda/root beer quality to it, only heightening the drinkability. There is a slight tangy carbonation that is my least favorite part of the beer, but in general the mouthfeel is creamy and smooth, coating the mouth evenly and distributing the flavors wonderfully.
I was fortunate to also have this beer on draft, and I can say that it is frighteningly similar, a credit to the fantastic brewing at work here. That aforementioned tang is totally absent out of the tap, and it ups the toffee and cream factor.
After eyeing this bottle in Whole Foods forever, I was smart enough to pick one up. I suggest you do the same. Obovoid is a rich, sweet, mellow experience that shows both an adventurous spirit and the ever-more-desirable quality of restraint. With the stout, oak, and oatmeal, there were plenty of places to screw up, but Obovoid manages to combine all the parts without doing a disservice to any. Fantastic work, perfect for a chilly night.
Jan 18, 2010
Props
If you recall, last week I dropped the news that I was meeting Sean Lilly Wilson, founder of Fullsteam Brewery, based in North Carolina. He and I met up at the Blind Tiger Ale House where he enjoyed an IPA from Cigar City, a brewery from Tampa whose brews I hadn't yet consumed, but which I really really enjoyed. So send some good words to Cigar City. But that's not the most important thing.
We talked about our favorite styles of beer (we're both fascinated by Belgian sours), why there is not a unified Southern brewing culture (there needs to be), and the sad/funny life led by people who constantly accidentally say stupid shit (Yeah. That.).
I won't totally jock-ride and pour praise upon incandescent praise on Sean (I will however take some liberties and start calling him Sean). Suffice it to say he is a very bright, passionate, knowledgeable guy and I have every confidence that Fullsteam Brewery will succeed. He also hooked me up with a bottle of their Hogwash Hickory-smoked Porter, which I haven't yet tried because he said it is a necessity to drink with barbecue.
It was great to hang out with Sean (and his friend Jason). To sit there with him sans pretension (on both sides) talking about our lives, his business, and even hearing him QUOTE MY BLOG TO ME was at once surreal and very much grounded in the realities of craft beer. I mean, I interviewed Shane frigging Welch from Sixpoint. He didn't need to talk to me; Sean didn't need to talk to me. But they DO because why shouldn't they? Good beer, at its best, is unpretentious right down to its core. It brought Sean and me to the table, and then sat at the table itself. It embodies everything great about this "slow food movement" - we should be able to reach out and talk to the people who make our food or beer. That we can do that, via Facebook, e-mail, and good old-fashioned face-to-facery is one of the luxuries of this era. For every useless "Gnight Tweet peepz, kissezz!", we are able to connect with more and more important people than ever.
So to Sean, all the brewers, all the aspiring brewers, and all the just plain drinkers, the beer world is ours right now. We can all share in the most bountiful time in beer's history. And it is delicious. And you can get drunk from it. What could be better?
We talked about our favorite styles of beer (we're both fascinated by Belgian sours), why there is not a unified Southern brewing culture (there needs to be), and the sad/funny life led by people who constantly accidentally say stupid shit (Yeah. That.).
I won't totally jock-ride and pour praise upon incandescent praise on Sean (I will however take some liberties and start calling him Sean). Suffice it to say he is a very bright, passionate, knowledgeable guy and I have every confidence that Fullsteam Brewery will succeed. He also hooked me up with a bottle of their Hogwash Hickory-smoked Porter, which I haven't yet tried because he said it is a necessity to drink with barbecue.
It was great to hang out with Sean (and his friend Jason). To sit there with him sans pretension (on both sides) talking about our lives, his business, and even hearing him QUOTE MY BLOG TO ME was at once surreal and very much grounded in the realities of craft beer. I mean, I interviewed Shane frigging Welch from Sixpoint. He didn't need to talk to me; Sean didn't need to talk to me. But they DO because why shouldn't they? Good beer, at its best, is unpretentious right down to its core. It brought Sean and me to the table, and then sat at the table itself. It embodies everything great about this "slow food movement" - we should be able to reach out and talk to the people who make our food or beer. That we can do that, via Facebook, e-mail, and good old-fashioned face-to-facery is one of the luxuries of this era. For every useless "Gnight Tweet peepz, kissezz!", we are able to connect with more and more important people than ever.
So to Sean, all the brewers, all the aspiring brewers, and all the just plain drinkers, the beer world is ours right now. We can all share in the most bountiful time in beer's history. And it is delicious. And you can get drunk from it. What could be better?
Jan 14, 2010
A Monumental Day: My First Public Apology
Hey everyone. If you know me, you have seen me apologize for saying dumb shit MANY times. Well, I've never had to do it so publicly.
You see, by linking to Serious Eats at the bottom, Maggie (who wrote the article) came upon my blog and unfortunately, I have offended a woman who appears to be quite sweet and kind. I definitely didn't think anyone would take my ridiculous blogging seriously. If you didn't know, Serious Eats is an actual journalistic endeavor. I am what is called "fucking around for my own amusement". In all seriousness, her article is dope, and it took me some time to come up with good, non-overlapping questions because she covered so much ground.
So, to Maggie, my bad. It was strictly a joke, and my non-functioning self-esteem prevented from thinking anyone would be taking me so seriously. My apologies, but I promise I didn't mean it. It was meant to be self-deprecating.
P.S. - I have now found her blog. If you even need to ask, quality-wise it rips my blog to total shit. If you're a foodie, welcome home.
You see, by linking to Serious Eats at the bottom, Maggie (who wrote the article) came upon my blog and unfortunately, I have offended a woman who appears to be quite sweet and kind. I definitely didn't think anyone would take my ridiculous blogging seriously. If you didn't know, Serious Eats is an actual journalistic endeavor. I am what is called "fucking around for my own amusement". In all seriousness, her article is dope, and it took me some time to come up with good, non-overlapping questions because she covered so much ground.
So, to Maggie, my bad. It was strictly a joke, and my non-functioning self-esteem prevented from thinking anyone would be taking me so seriously. My apologies, but I promise I didn't mean it. It was meant to be self-deprecating.
P.S. - I have now found her blog. If you even need to ask, quality-wise it rips my blog to total shit. If you're a foodie, welcome home.
Alehouse Heroes: Fullsteam Brewery (NC)
In this internet age, it is really easy for hype to completely lap quality. We've all got pages to fill, news to scoop, and emoticons to express. But once in a while something being mercilessly hyped by whatever culture it is a part of actually makes me interested and I have to learn more. Such is the case with Fullsteam Brewery. The tricky thing about Fullsteam Brewery is that, um, the brewery isn't built yet. Right now, it is a couple guys making beer and holding tastings in the NC area to a burgeoning horde of fans while the brewery is being built. There's founder Sean Wilson, brewer Chris Davis, and according to their website, operations manager Brooks Hamaker, who was formerly the head brewer for Abita, one of my favorite breweries in the universe.
All this sounds great. But why would I (and everyone else who likes beer) write about them? Well, I'm all about the beer and food. The growing "Plow to Pint" movement, as well as craft beer's natural friendship with slow food, is something which I am endlessly fascinated. If you want to know why I don't write about THAT more, it is because I am broke . . . . I don't have a joke there. Anyway, what is so special about Fullsteam is their allegiance to the agricultural riches of the South. Using ingredients like scuppernong grapes, hickory, rhubarb, and sweet potatoes, Fullsteam is taking local brewing to what should be its natural conclusion.
I will (hopefully!) be lucky enough to grab a beer with Sean Wilson tonight (!), as he will be in NYC. But just to be safe, I interviewed him a few weeks back and kept the interview in me tight little pocket for just such an occasion. Without further ado, Sean Wilson, founder and president of Fullsteam Brewery.
All this sounds great. But why would I (and everyone else who likes beer) write about them? Well, I'm all about the beer and food. The growing "Plow to Pint" movement, as well as craft beer's natural friendship with slow food, is something which I am endlessly fascinated. If you want to know why I don't write about THAT more, it is because I am broke . . . . I don't have a joke there. Anyway, what is so special about Fullsteam is their allegiance to the agricultural riches of the South. Using ingredients like scuppernong grapes, hickory, rhubarb, and sweet potatoes, Fullsteam is taking local brewing to what should be its natural conclusion.
I will (hopefully!) be lucky enough to grab a beer with Sean Wilson tonight (!), as he will be in NYC. But just to be safe, I interviewed him a few weeks back and kept the interview in me tight little pocket for just such an occasion. Without further ado, Sean Wilson, founder and president of Fullsteam Brewery.
Jan 11, 2010
Correction
Hey y'all. Made a slight boo-boo in my post today. Old Speckled Hen is not technically a Scotch Ale. It is an English ale in the Scottish style. It still bears a strong resemblance to the Scotch ales, so it definitely is somewhat representative of the style. It does suck, however, so relax on it.
Scotch Ale Smackdown
In the wide world of beer, there are too many styles, sub-styles, hybrids, and just plain off-the-wall beers to even count. This is why when I review things, I have occassionally (and will try more in the future) grouped reviews by style. Consider this your Scotch Ale (also known as Wee Heavy) tutorial.
In the UK region, hops mainly come from England. So, if you head on in to England, you can find locally-brewed, HOPPY beers. However, if you haven't heard, England wasn't always so kind to other countries, what with the conquering and shamelessly profiteering off of/killing everyone. This could explain why Ireland and Scotland didn't necessarily want to import hops from England back in the day. This would also explain why Scotch ales are almost all, if not entirely, malt, with extremely minimal hops. If you can taste them at all, you have a more refined palate than I. Your typical Scotch Ale has a nice creamy body, a brown or ruby-brown body, and a pretty low ABV, depending on the brewery. Old Speckled Hen is an example (a shite-tasting one), but one that is easy to find if you want an introduction to the style. Scotch Ales are also phenomenal examples of how geography and socio-political issues can affect the brewing of a particular region and the creation of a particular style.
That adorable-ass picture of me on the right side of this blog has me drinking a Scotch Ale coincidentally, so I have had good experience with them. Today I am going to contrast two that I recently had to both recommend them (they are both great) and show some of the diversity of the style. Even in something that is predominantly one ingredient can have a wide range of flavors and provide a totally different experience.
In the UK region, hops mainly come from England. So, if you head on in to England, you can find locally-brewed, HOPPY beers. However, if you haven't heard, England wasn't always so kind to other countries, what with the conquering and shamelessly profiteering off of/killing everyone. This could explain why Ireland and Scotland didn't necessarily want to import hops from England back in the day. This would also explain why Scotch ales are almost all, if not entirely, malt, with extremely minimal hops. If you can taste them at all, you have a more refined palate than I. Your typical Scotch Ale has a nice creamy body, a brown or ruby-brown body, and a pretty low ABV, depending on the brewery. Old Speckled Hen is an example (a shite-tasting one), but one that is easy to find if you want an introduction to the style. Scotch Ales are also phenomenal examples of how geography and socio-political issues can affect the brewing of a particular region and the creation of a particular style.
That adorable-ass picture of me on the right side of this blog has me drinking a Scotch Ale coincidentally, so I have had good experience with them. Today I am going to contrast two that I recently had to both recommend them (they are both great) and show some of the diversity of the style. Even in something that is predominantly one ingredient can have a wide range of flavors and provide a totally different experience.
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