Take One Down

S.O.S.

2010-06-24T13:11:00.000-04:00

I am desperate. Hell, we all are, aren't we? Maybe we're desperate to get a job, maybe we're desperate for love, maybe desperate to change the world.

Maybe all three.

Unless you've been living under a tar ball for the past few weeks, you've heard about the Gulf oil spill. What's ensued in the mass media coverage has been a disgusting display of wealth battling wealth, with politicians who have gladly taken (and will continue to take) vile oil money battering the very executives who have lined their pockets. Blame has been scattered like automatic rifle rounds, and as usual, our government has looked like a bunch of total disorganized asses in trying to handle the damage.

The last straw for me was hearing Sarah Palin (and Gary Bauer and others) blame environmentalists for the disaster (the theory being that, because of a ban on offshore drilling, oil rigs have had to drill and traverse more dangerous places). I won't get into why this is ludicrous because frankly, the Democrats have been equally inane. The American government has continued to make an absolute mockery of itself, and is so tied up with in-fighting that it forgot about the EVENT. And in the throes of all this coverage, what do the networks provide us? An underwater HD camera so we can watch the blood spill from the wound.

As usual, it is not a government catastrophe. It is a human catastrophe being played for political purposes while the people in the area suffer, and could care less (I imagine) about who ends up getting re-elected out of the deal. If you want to help (and goddammit, YOU SHOULD), you have to help the people. Don't waste your time worrying about the government or writing to your local comptroller or whatever. My family in the Gulf has said as much: help the PEOPLE. And, to tie this all together, what better way to help the people than with a beer, no?

I've mentioned here that Abita is one of my favorite breweries in America. They take tricky ingredients (strawberries, raspberries, pecans - all local by the way) and make terrific beers. When Katrina happened, they whipped up Restoration Ale, which by their count has raised over $500,000 for Katrina clean-up. Now, once more, they put their money where their mouth is and are working on S.O.S. (Save Our Shores), a wheat and malt pilsner that generates 75 cents for the Gulf clean-up with every bottle purchased. The beer will arrive in 41 states in Mid-July. If you want to help now, they have a shop set up with some merchandise, from which 100% of all proceeds will go to the effort. The Louisiana Seafood Promotion and Marketing Board will help direct the funds to the most useful places. Sounds like a plan . . .

I highly encourage you to swing by there and check out their absolutely gorgeous website. No, no. That wasn't good enough.

CLICK THIS LINK TO HELP SOMEONE

Yes, that is better. The website imagines the gulf prisitine, perhaps even better than before. Maybe you scoff at this. Maybe there is no real way to get the Gulf back to where it was. But if there is a way to do it, staring at the gusher isn't it. Fighting over political games CERTAINLY isn't the way to do it. Sometimes we have to help people, and if drinking a beer or copping a T-shirt is the best way to do that, then even better. Again, the beer appears in Mid-July, and I plan on picking up as much of it as I can. It sounds like the perfect summer beer, made to restore perfect summers.

The NY Brewfest (or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Blog)

2010-06-21T15:55:00.001-04:00

If you want to take a look at where craft beer stands today, the two contrasting events I experienced at the NY Brewfest this weekend should pretty much sum it up. I showed up a bit later to the event than I wanted to, arriving at about 2:45 to catch the ferry for Governor's Island where the event was held. I was greeted with a line, the magnitude of which I was not quite prepared for. I knew the event was sold out, and hoped for some sort of huge flu outbreak that would incapacitate the bulk of the crowd, but I was greeted by some of the organizers with pretty encouraging (if slightly nerve-wracking) news: in just its fourth year, the NY Brewfest was attended by 10,000 people.

Boasting 100 breweries, most showcasing two or three beers, I was a kid in a candy store. (The only trick at a festival like this? MAKE A WISHLIST. I did, and I got to every beer I wanted with my palate and sobriety intact.) I thought, "Wow, ten thousand people! A LOT of people love craft beer." But I was yet to experience event number two. As I was sipping my second sample of the day, a guy to my right exclaimed, "Oh my God. This is good. It tastes like Rolling Rock!" That was when I had to hang my head and sigh. Yes indeed, craft beer is rife with breweries, and its lovers are fifty fold what they were even ten years ago. But sadly, any event pouring tons of beer (particularly one accessible from Staten Island, Long Island, and New Jersey) is going to attract its fair share of binge drinkers with no interest in art or craft, but with lots of interest in keg stands and filling up a liter Poland Spring bottle with the beer from whichever brewery's rep allowed them to in exchange for a sneakily placed twenty. (Both of those things happened).

And that's what the day was like. On one hand, it was so crowded that I couldn't talk to the brewers, and each beer required a double-digit wait, but the beer was delicious, and after one or two exclamations of, "That guy has a notebook, he's my hero!", I was able to block out the douchebaggery and focus on enjoying a fantastic, perfectly placed display of craft beer.

My first beer was North Coast Red Seal Ale. These guys rep Cali and make two other beers I love: Old Rasputin Imperial Stout and Brother Thelonious, a fantastic Belgian-style dark ale. Red Seal is more of an amber I suppose, or perhaps a coppery pale ale. It brings a nice hoppy aroma with a hint of pine and a hint of grapefruit. These hops hit a bit up front, but are mellowed substantially by a nice malty backdrop of caramel and toffee, with even a butterscotch cookie note. The finish is full and sweet (but not overly so) with a complement on lemon-y hops. This was a fantastic brew, and was a perfect intro to the day. It was stylistically funky, blurring some genre lines, but woke up my palate and was executed with wonderful balance.

After that, I HAD to hit Captain Lawrence. These cats are from New York, and I have previously written about their Liquid Gold being God's gift to the taste buds. So naturally, when I saw they were there I had to get in the (lengthy) line. I had their Kolsch. Now a Kolsch technically can only come from Cologne in Germany, but as usual, American brewers can go loosey-goosey with this. If you've never had one, it is a VERY light ale, great as introduction to more complex beers, and perfect for sessions. Unsurprisingly, CL knocks it out of the park, showing wonderful reverence for the style while making this one unique. The aroma has almost an orange sherbet quality, as a light citrus hop mingles with a vanilla creaminess. This has a definite parallel in the beer, as it packs a lovely and creamy mouthfeel with note-perfect carbonation levels. The flavor also packs a nice summer grassiness and manages to strike a beautiful balance: both creamy and refreshing, flavorful and deceptively simple in profile. It's another home run from one of the better breweries in NY state.

I was excited for my next sample: Innis & Gunn, a Scottish oak-aged export. Unfortunately, I didn't particularly dig this beer. While the oak character was wonderful (smoky and rife with vanilla), the background sort of tasted like . . . um . . . malt liquor honestly. There were pleasant notes outside of the oak (a hint of roasted caramel, a bit of lemon), but I was unimpressed with this. Similarly, I was left wanting more with Elysian's The Wise ESB. As a primer, ESB stands for Extra Special Bitter. This is an English-style ale which ironically isn't necessarily bitter. It just generally contains a bit more booze and/or body than a brewery's regular Bitter. While I love Elysian (as I've written, their Night Owl Pumpkin Ale is officially an autumnal tradition for me) and this beer was rather drinkable, it lacked some character.

Next up was Sprecher Black Bavarian. Sprecher was introduced to me when I visited my friend Mike in Milwaukee where Sprecher is a well-known brewery. Outside of there, not so much. Which is a shame, because they make some funky German-inspired beer. They just keep a pretty low-profile, very workmanlike and Midwestern, quietly producing dope beer. Their Black Bavarian Lager has a deep flavor packed with maple syrup and rich (burnt?) molasses. It is a bit too carbonated for my taste, and finishes a tad metallic on some sips, but it mellows as it goes and reveals a rewarding choco

Defiant Brewing has been rocking out in NY for a bit now, but I've missed out on most of their beers. An opportunity to taste some was one I couldn't pass up. I had their porter which I am pleased to say I enjoyed, despite my bias against porters. The head was light with a nice tan, and the body was an opaque brown. The aroma brought a nice smoky, peppery tone. The mouthfeel was thin even by porter standards and presented more like a burnt brown ale, which is not necessarily a bad thing. There are tangy, fruity notes amidst the darkness, maybe apple or unripe peach, and these make it a nicely balanced beer that still manages some quirky character.

Of course, in addition to these, there was Orval (drop the $8 per bottle; it's worth it), and Sixpoint brought their Reighteous Rye and Sweet Action from Brooklyn. They don't need me to write about their greatness again, but I could. I also have to give a shout to Greenport Harbor, whom I first met at the IGBE in Long Island. Their Disorient IPA and Harbor Ale were total crowd-pleasers (myself included) and they are absolutely going places. Conversely, there was a blueberry wheat from a brewery I will leave anonymous that was without question our low point of the day. It was so watery, I didn't even need to rinse my glass. Also, despite the rousing endorsements Cisco's Witbier got from the drunken hordes next to us, we also found it be (sans review) not very good.

As I was writing this, I suddenly became repulsed by the idea of beginning my last paragraph with some "All in all . . . " bullshit. What did I learn about craft beer? Nothing. I tried some new ones, but I can't make any grand statements about next frontiers, or expanded palates, or some revelatory experience. I drank a bunch of brilliantly made beer, and I loved it. But I already knew that. So I would be remiss if I didn't mention my lack of blogging: laziness, pure laziness. "But not that many people read it," I whined like a bitch. But I LOVE. IT. So click on some of these breweries, learn about them, and demand your next night out drinking with friends be at a place with local, well-made beer - wherever you are. This, I'm happy to say, is my life.

Beer Laws - Iowa 1, Philly 0

2010-03-11T11:39:00.000-05:00

Let's be honest: America has a checkered history to say the least. Even the most steadfast, flag-waving patriot would have to admit that. We've had slavery, Tuskeegee experiments, the McCarthy era. That doesn't even count eight years of this, eight years of this, and over forty fucking years of this. If you want to know where America stands right now, I would do yourself a favor and watch Glenn Beck's this-would-be-a-funny-script-but-it's-not-it's-real-so-it-makes-me-shiver-and-sob interview with disgraced Democratic Representative Erick Massa. Don't fret; YouTube will hook you up. It will be the most wondrous, heart-wrenching, belief-in-humanity-negating 9.5 minutes of your life. Basically, a Democrat uses cancer and a Democratic conspiracy to cover up his gay fondling hi jinks while a Republican refutes his non-points by saying that he is the target of an EVEN BIGGER Democratic conspiracy, each proclaiming himself the more put-upon while covering ABSOLUTELY NOTHING related to politics or bettering our battered country. If that's not America in a nutshell right now, I don't know what is.

Also encapsulating America? Beer laws. Beer laws are unique in their representation of our country's history in that most of them are old, outdated, and still on the books. These laws are literal representations of where our collective heads were at decades ago. They are our history, albeit a short-sighted and ignorant portion of our history, which makes it all the more tragic that they still exist, let alone are being enforced. If you don't know, several states have laws that make it illegal to sell beer over a certain ABV. Or, as with the recent debacle in Philadelphia, some even have beer "registration" laws.

You see, in the state known as "Pennsylvania", the brilliant state government representing "Pennsylvania" decided that all beer had to be registered. So let's say I own a bar with 75 beers to choose from. I have to go to the state liquor board and register that I carry each of them. At this point, you should be scratching your head. Wait. It gets better.

Over the weekend, three UPSCALE alehouses in Philadelphia were raided by gun-wielding police who confiscated unregistered beer to the tune of several thousand dollars. Now, Pennsylvania has tons of beer. Go to central PA. A Yuengling on tap costs $1.75 ALWAYS. Kids don't even have to scrape together beer money the old-fashioned way (selling their "disabled" parents' Oxycontin). If you've got two dollars, you can drink in a bar.

Thankfully, states are starting to get the message. Sean from Fullsteam helped lead the charge in North Carolina to get their bullshit laws repealed, and now Iowa has gone and done away with theirs. It was all part of a huge and actually sort of interesting budget restructuring for the Iowa state government. The beer part of the bill was, according to lawmakers, "budget neutral". Budget neutral . . . in a budget restructuring bill. They just tacked it on! That is awesome.

I know I shit on a lot of places that aren't New York, but in between mad rows of corn, Iowa really has their stuff together. I mean, this is the place that launched Barack Obama into the national spotlight, legalized gay marriage, and now they're the latest to banish their outdated beer restrictions. I might be a leftist wealth-hater, but I love this country. I love it SO much that I'm going to move to Iowa, where the first black President can oversee me marrying some dude, and I can serve Old Rasputin or Midas Touch at my bangin' gay wedding reception in some goddamn peace. Now that's America.

I Wanna Bock Right Now

2010-03-09T12:26:00.000-05:00

The Bock: not particularly popular outside of beer lovers, yet it is one of the oldest styles of beer still being produced. The bock originated around the 1300's in the German city of Einbeck (likely responsible for the name too). If Belgium has taught us anything, it's that monks love beer. German monks most certainly had this trait (they're German), and when it came time to tackle the problem of how to nourish themselves during religious fasts, they turned to our sweet sweet alcoholic friend. So, these monks whipped up what became known as a "a bock". Because of the desperation of the monks to be nourished, this beer is characterized by a rich breadiness, a high gravity packed with carbohydrates, and a nice juicy alcohol content perfect for taking your mind off of what Jesus thinks of you.

Last night, I sampled two bocks. I have had several before, including the epic and delicious Troegenator, but since I was having two in the same night, I decided to blog about it. The first I tried was Abita Mardi Gras Bock. As I've mentioned before, Abita is one of my favorite breweries (Turbodog is truly the work of minds beyond our own) so when I saw they made a bock, I jumped all over it. Bocks generally come out around this time of year (corresponding with winter and Lent), so I was happy to see Abita putting out a beer that should be perfect for their situation: in Louisiana, home of the biggest Hedonist help-me-through-religious-irritation festival there is.

Their bock tends toward the Maibock, a paler version of the traditional bock. It pours a lovely yellow-golden, almost honey in color. The body is flecked with bubbles, though the beer is not particularly carbonated on the tongue. The taste is a hint bready yes, but sweet too and lighter in body than the Trogenator. It has a nice toastiness with hints of cracker and a slight butteriness. It also has the slight boozy twinge that often shows up in the style without being yeasty. It skews way lighter than many bocks, and the decision to roll with the lighter Maibock is a great decision, since they're brewing for the hot Louisiana climate. But ultimately, something about Mardi Gras Bock falls a bit flat. None of the flavors come through with much gusto, and there are windows of flavor seemingly left wide open. The finesse that most Abita beers show in mingling odd styles or difficult ingredients is mysteriously absent here.

Next up was Ayinger Celebrator. Ayinger is a German brewery and Celebrator has one of the top reps as an authentic German doppelbock (double bock = higher alcohol). I had never had it, but I can safely say that it is fantastic. It pours a very dark brown with minimal head. It presents aroma notes of rich wheat toast, caramel, root beer, and maple syrup. The caramel presents in the flavor as well, but most of what you get is a robust yet gentle roastiness. What is so unique about this beer is how the grain comes through so crisp and clear, despite the high alcohol. You can imagine the malt being gently roasted when you drink it, and the fresh flavor of the grain (as well as letting it stand out as a flavor element) brings a lightness and an elegance to the beer. Celebrator also presents notes of molasses, a touch of alcohol warmth, and a hint of mellowing carbonation. This beer clearly has its reputation for a reason, and tasting it not only offers the opportunity to have a great beer, but also to taste some good old-fashioned TRADITION.

Most people probably aren't up on bocks, but for the transitional Spring weather, they offer the perfect segue from the dark, heavy, high-alcohol beers of winter to the (generally) lighter beers of summer. More and more American craft breweries are trying their hands at them, and the opening up of the craft beer market in the States has afforded up the opportunity to stock up on imports as well. The other great thing about bocks is how well they pair with food. Bust out some Irish soda bread or even a chocolatey dessert, and you got yourself a nifty pairing with minimal effort. If breweries end up throwing out gallons of unused bock this summer, I blame you.

Quick Shout to Big Clout

2010-03-04T11:33:00.000-05:00

Oh there are so many things to take a man's attention away from his passions: horrible days at work, cars that give you erections, catatonically staring at the computer screen hoping a certain comment writer will read a certain blog post and respond with new and hilarious misspellings. But once in a while I manage to sneak away and have a night with just me and the lady. She is my whole world, and she encourages my ~~alcoholism~~ beer love with gusto. So, even when we're out to a romantic dinner, or having a chill night alone, she never hesitates to let me down a new beer and blabber on about Plato (a unit for measuring the Original Gravity of a beer) or Belgian yeast strains without batting an eyelash. She even pretends to be into it. I mean, nothing ruins a sentimental starlit meal like asking the waiter for a Shitstorm IPA or a Dead Racist Oatmeal Stout, but I'll be damned if she doesn't encourage it. (TRADEMARK!)

The other night we went to one of our guilty pleasures: Stand, right outside Union Square. The burgers are great, the sides are meh, but the milkshakes. THE FUCKING MILKSHAKES. Being boring stay-at-home losers with foodie pretensions means we watch a lot of Food Network. When Michael Symon said he drank THREE of this place's Toasted Marshmallow milkshakes on Best Thing I Ever Ate, we had to go. The peanut butter cup milkshake? Heaven. The Chocolate Mint Cookie? Delicious. Apple Pie? They BLEND A PIECE OF PIE INTO IT. But the Toasted Marshmallow milkshake is the kicker. It is so good that if killing puppies was the only way to make the milkshake come to be, we would be farm-raising the little Fidos for slaughter.

Anyway, they happen to have a nifty beer list too (when they aren't out of everything). Though they were out of the Captain Lawrence Smoked Porter for the second time (I guess I'm not the only one who thinks it sounds good with a burger), they had Captain Lawrence Liquid Gold. Captain Lawrence is really gaining lots of steam here, as they are a NY state brewery, but people have been losing their shit over CL with extreme dementia well beyond what I expect. So, I thought I'd give it a whirl.

Well Captain Lawrence, let me say, Liquid Gold is unbelievably wonderful. Even with food that it didn't belong in the same room with; even in a glass meant to hold . . . I don't know . . . a lame mojito or something; even when it wasn't my first choice. This beer kills. Incredible bursting fruity notes of pineapple and lemon that explode on the tongue with force but without overwhelming the delicate grass and prominent - yet easy to screw up - Belgian yeastiness. How this all balances, I have no clue. I've truly never tasted anything like it. It is so crisp, so bold and refreshing, so addicting . . . it's like drinking one of those yellow smiley faces. I want one now. But sadly I have not.

So, even though Captain Lawrence really should have me review his (or uh . . . her, but probably not) beers with a comprehensive hand and a panoramic view of the whole line, I can't. Because I can almost never find his damn beers. But suffice it to say that Liquid Gold is a really monumental achievement. Just fantastic. Thought you should know.

Pure Hogwash

2010-03-02T12:16:00.000-05:00

Last night was one of the most enjoyable nights I've had in a while. Sitting around drinking Sixpoint Mason (a dunkelweiss) from a growler while blogging and watching basketball (even if the games weren't great) was . . . creatively invigorating, oddly enough. I had another experience like that last week and it sprouted from seeds planted several weeks ago.

I wrote about meeting Sean Lily Wilson of North Carolina's burgeoning Fullsteam Brewery back in the day. We had a killer conversation, a couple fantastic beers, and he gave me a bottle of his Hogwash Hickory-Smoked Porter with the caveat that I couldn't drink it without some barbecue in the mix. I never had a free night to just sit around, drink, and eat barbecue until last week. Tragically, I had to run in to work quickly last Tuesday so I set my DVR for the 'Cuse game, dashed in to work, and used the trip in as an excuse to treat myself to a BBQ dinner. I work near a semi-decent BBQ place that, in a pinch, was allowable. I NEEDED to try this beer.

I don't know if Sean knows this, but I was terrified to try his beer. Between all the hype, my general unimpressed-ness with most porters, and the fact that I KNOW HIM PERSONALLY, I had no idea what I would do if I didn't like it. It was likely my first journalistic dilemma. I certainly didn't have it in me to give a fluff review, praising a beer I didn't believe in. But who could say something bad about the product of such a good human being with such a promising future?

Thankfully, after I tasted the beer, this was no longer an issue. Hogwash, alone or with my pulled pork sandwich, is simply outstanding. The usual porter signifiers are there: in color and body it doesn't shatter any new ground. But in flavor, Hogwash brings an earthy, hearty flavor to the usually blah porter palete. The hickory lends a brilliant smokiness that rounds out the flavor and adds just a touch of sweetness, though the beer finishes on a slightly drier note. With a tender piece of barbecue pork (or even with the side of Memphis dry ribs), the beer goes even sweeter and the barbecue gets even smokier.

The best part of this beer might be how frigging EASY it is to drink. Hogwash certainly holds rewards for those willing to dig deep, but hand it to a friend at a barbecue and I bet they'll guzzle two or three, all the while wondering what makes this beer so damn addictive. The one bottle I had was not enough. I wanted to drink one more; I wanted to suddenly be at a sunny-day barbecue surrounded by friends and family. But that's the power of a good craft brew. I was transported there either way, from a NYC apartment on a rainy Tuesday to a hot-as-hell Southern Saturday Barbecue and Bluegrass Hoe-down (this is an annual event that takes place in my brain).

I highly suggest following these dudes on Facebook, as Fullsteam regularly posts hilarious pop culture whatnot from the absurd outskirts of technology and entertainment. Plus their beer is good, and when it rolls into NYC I will proudly go to my local alehouse, order a pint, and get transported to a magical world where I have no job but tons of money, no tact but tons of friends, and no obligations pulling me forward: just the desire to live. For me, that's what beer and barbecue are all about: the great times. Add this experience to the list.

I'm Back Bitches, and It's National Beer Day . . . Bitches

2010-03-01T19:54:00.001-05:00

Well, well, well. Looks like we're all alone. I set out this tray of fresh grapes and ripened cheese for you. Lay down by the fire . . . I have an oil that smells like pomegranates.

If you didn't notice (I'm assuming you have something better to do), I've been gone for . . . oh I don't know. Something like 26 years. The demands of running a restaurant, maintaining a relationship, having friends, and being stunningly good-looking take up their fair share of my schedule. Unfortunately, blogging - despite the money and groupies - took a backseat to life. Take heart: I kept drinking heavily, if not as adventurously. You know? Sometimes a dude just wants to sit back, drink a beer, finish it, and not write a bunch of shit about it.

But I was beckoned back. I've been eating monstrous amounts of exotic food, hanging with cool beer people, and hearing about how my lack of blogging has left a Haiti-sized hole in people's lives for the past few weeks. Good food and beer deserves to be written and talked about. So, forgive my occasional diversions away from beer. They keep me interested in my own blathering. That leads me to this.

I hadn't even logged in to my Blogger account in weeks. When I did a few minutes ago, I was greeted by a comment from someone I can't yet identify. A random perhaps? It said this:

I don't know the appropriate place to post this, but in general NYC does not have the best food, not by far, not in my opinion. I've been in NYC for a year and a half and I've had better food, lb for lb, in m home state of MA, every day of the year.

This person goes on to say that NYC doesn't have decent Chinese food (!) or pizza (!!). This has nothing to do with beer, but I also LOVE food (possibly more than beer, but I write about beer because I know more about it). Plus this is my spot, so I think this is an appropriate time to express my disdain for other people's opinions.

New York sucks. That's right. Manhattan? Are you kidding me? Everyone knows it's lame now. Especially this person who posted this, who according to their profile lives on the Upper West Side. The UWS is LAME, all caps. In fact, aside from Park Slope, it might be the lamest section of the whole city. So hey lame-ass: zip it. Because no matter how much NYC sucks and has been commercialized and has become a playground for the rich, it KILLS wherever you are from. This commenter says he/she is from Massachusetts. Even worse. I blame Massachusetts (well . . . and Giuliani) for New York sucking. They come here from their wack-ass suburban podunk shithouse and wear their goddamn Tufts sweatshirts all over the city and make everyone be quiet late at night.

If you live in New York, let's get one thing clear: you came here because we have something your home doesn't. Maybe it's hip-hop, or educated people, or running water. But we have it. You want Chinese food? GO TO FUCKING FLUSHING. It's like China 2. You want pizza? Um . . . get slapped in the face (if you're a man; if you're a woman, just trip over something). You can't find pizza in NYC?!?!? Well, maybe you can refer me to a good helmet store.

This person says we don't have good Greek food. I live in Astoria. Look it up. I just had Lebanese today and FUCKING NEPALESE last week. Please lame-asses from other places: just shut up and go home. Or take New York like it is and enjoy it. A bit more?

You cannot get a good steak bomb here (not one good Ma/Pa sub shops in NYC anywhere). I haven't even found a place in NYC that makes their own donuts (Marty's donut land in Ipswich, MA.)

Oh well then let me catch the next horse and carriage to IPSWICH FUCKING MASSACHUSETTS. According to Wikipedia, Ipswich is 97.6% white. Wow. Shocking. No good Ma and Pa sub shops? I live right down the street from Sal, Kris, and Charlie's who would ground your favorite sub shop into a paste that would be untastable on their amazing subs. Then your favorite sub shop (which, if you recall, was recently turned to a paste) would be shit out by someone WAY cooler than you. Then try Nicky's Vietnamese. You will have the best subs of your life, and they show the Simpsons on a constant loop.

New York has THE BEST FOOD ANYWHERE. Maybe in ten years, they won't, but since right now we have Gordon Ramsay, Mario Batali, Chris Santos, Buttermilk Channel, Zarela, the Harrison, all of Queens (the most diverse place on the planet statistically), Wylie Dufresne, Bobby Flay, Morimoto's, David Bouley, Per Se/Ad Hoc, Les Halles, Aquavit, Resto, Momofuku, Jean-Georges, Jacques Torres, Max Brenner's, Katz's Deli, Le Cirque, Tom Colicchio, Alain Ducasse, about 500 other world-renowned chefs, and authentic regional cuisine from every country on the planet, we do.

Also, if you are like this commenter and say your favorite beer is Peak IPA, please, stay out of the deep end. I bet there's a nice fucking donut hole in Ipswich that would love to have you.

Schlafly Reserve Barleywine 2008 vs. Victory Old Horizontal

2010-01-28T11:28:00.000-05:00

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.

Sweeeeeeeeet

2010-01-20T12:30:00.000-05:00

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."

Review: Boulder Beer Company Obovoid

2010-01-19T13:15:00.000-05:00

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.

Props

2010-01-18T15:36:00.001-05:00

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?

A Monumental Day: My First Public Apology

2010-01-14T14:46:00.000-05:00

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.

Alehouse Heroes: Fullsteam Brewery (NC)

2010-01-14T11:18:00.000-05:00

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.

T1D: What was the moment you fell in love with beer? What was it like?

SW:I had a relatively late “ah-ha” craft beer moment that took place when I was around 30. A friend of mine from business school took me to a bar that had some leftover beer from a private party. He told me, “you’ve probably never had these beers before.” It’s true: I had lived in North Carolina since turning 21 and, because of the state’s long-standing 6 percent cap on alcohol by volume on beer, I had never heard of barleywine, double IPA, or Belgian ales. These high-end, higher-alcohol styles were out of sight, out of mind.

JP proceeded to open up a 750ml of a double IPA with “Batch 1” handwritten on it. I honestly don’t remember where the beer came from. The whole evening was such an epiphany – it was more about these beer styles I had never experienced; not as much about the specific breweries.

It sort of irked me that these beers were illegal to brew or sell in North Carolina.

(Sub-story: Many states have or have recently had absurd fucking laws governing the maximum alcohol contents of beers. So you CAN drink 40 PBR's, but you CAN'T purchas one 9% beer. Oddly enough, many of these states are Southern. Huh. Who would've thought? Anyway, Mr. Wilson was one of the main figures spearheading the repeal of this completely retarded law in North Carolina. Good lookin' out.)

T1D: Run through a little bit about how you and your partner got started at this.

SW: Quick clarification: Chris is Fullsteam’s brewer, but not a partner. (ed. note - Sorry!)

I had been researching and thinking about this brewery for some time, but I’m not a brewer by training. I knew I needed someone who was passionate about the science of brewing – the technician whose dream job was to be responsible for brewing top-notch beer. I knew my role would be more business-related.

So I started asking around and interviewing a few people. Chris was the first person whom I really clicked with – who had both the technical chops and a keen interest in this concept of Southern-influenced beer. I knew from the get-go that he was the guy.

T1D: You are very literally the intersection of local food and craft beer. What is it about craft beer and so-called "slow food" that make them such natural partners?

SW: The Slow Food movement celebrates “intentional” and local eating: knowing where your food comes from and eating in-season. Enjoying local hand-crafted beer is slow food in liquid form. American society is breaking away from the monolithic, mass-produced and embracing local and regional specialties. Befriending a brewer is no different than knowing your local cheese maker or baker.

In fact, I’m working on a new project called Know Your Brewer that seeks to highlight and celebrate the people who brew your beer. The site is a bit of flux right now, as our brewer interviews were centered around North Carolina beer (and the content was moved over the NCbeer.org website). But a friend of mine and I are launching Know Your Brewer as a national platform for beer bloggers and professional writers to interview American craft brewers. Look for the relaunch to be ready by the beginning of 2010 (Other ed. note - Put me on. For serious.)

T1D: Your beers seem destined to be paired. Have you found any exceptional, or possibly atrocious, food pairings with your beers?

SW: I really enjoy the pairing of Hogwash! with North Carolina barbecue. Style-wise, Hogwash! is a smoked brown porter. We smoke the malted barley over hickory wood, which imparts a slightly sweet smoky flavor to the beer.

Taste-wise, what makes the beer so fun is the interplay between the slight smokiness of the beer with the traditional subtle smoke of North Carolina 'cue. The smokiness lingers on the palate, flitting among the smoke of the meat and the smoke of the beer, interrupted ever so briefly by a bite of slaw. It sort of makes me hungry thinking about it.

Atrocious pairings? We haven’t had a bad beer-and-food pairing yet. We did have a few misfires in our plow-to-pint brewing: an early miso ginger stout was a drain pour, as was a more recent local fig and honey farmhouse ale. A miscalculation on the beer’s attenuation resulted in a cidery mess. But now’s our time to experiment…before we’re set up on the big system. Oscar Wilde put it pretty well: “Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.”

T1D: You've been getting interviewed a bit lately, but your brewery isn't even open yet. How does the increased spotlight on craft beer affect your perception of your beers? Is it more difficult to stay true to your vision?

SW: We consider ourselves really lucky for the exposure and recognition we’ve received to date. I think it actually helps us refine our vision. I tend to have a lot of ideas, and often times they’re all over the place. Writers and publications tend to want focus: to hone in on a core concept or main theme. These conversations help us stay focused. Not necessarily more “true to our vision,” because we’re really passionate about this concept of developing a Southern-style beer.

Also, I should point out that we’re getting a lot of feedback from locals: both beer enthusiasts and people new to craft beer. Over the past year, we’ve served our beer (for free) at about twenty or so events and venues. It’s been incredibly valuable to watch people’s ordering and decision-making process. To know what works and what needs improvement…what gets people excited and what gets overlooked.

T1D: There is some debate over craft beer's marketing right now. Your beers are clearly earthy, yet very much concerned with refined craft. Do you feel that craft beer has gotten too haughty in some circles?

SW: I don’t know if that’s for me to judge. Haughtiness is relative. I was out last night enjoying an Allagash Hugh Malone, which is served in a delicate tulip glass. A guy at the bar might think my beer is haughty – that I am a beer snob -- just because I’m not drinking beer out of a bottle. So who am I to judge?

I never want people to lose sight of what’s most important: that no matter the type of beer one drinks, we should be enjoying ourselves. I think there’s a faction of craft beer enthusiasts who are perhaps too consumed with the pursuit and less with the moment. A friend of mine in the industry calls them “unicorn chasers.” Don’t get me wrong – a rare beer is a special treat – but I wonder if sometimes it’s more about the chase than the beer.

My friend Julie Johnson of All About Beer Magazine once wrote something that has stuck with me since I first read it several years ago: “When I sample a beer, I’m also going to ask myself whether this is a beverage I’d enjoy having by the pint with a couple of friends.” Though we at Fullsteam will be making a lot of unusual one-offs, I want nothing more than our beers to be the type of beers Julie is talking about…delighting in a full pint in the full company of friends.

T1D: One thing I've learned from talking to people for this blog is how hard it is to start a brewery. Obviously there are many difficult aspects, but do you have one or two particular stories or struggles that people thinking about starting a brewery should know about?

SW: I don’t really have a particular story, but I’d say vet the building quickly. Figure out what your business is and find the building to make it work. Quickly eliminate sites that are too complex or cumbersome to take on. A brewery is a very difficult venture to pull off – full of pitfalls and “reasons to say no.” In Durham we pursued two sites that were problematic: the first has structural issues and the second one needed tons of upfit. We settled on a utilitarian building that’s not the most magical site, but it allows us to grow a brewery true to our vision. We would have quickly hit a wall with our other two locations.

I’m not saying that an aspiring brewer needs to find a utilitarian location. It’s just that a basic big ol’ warehouse is just what we needed. Figure out the ideal site and get it. Eliminate distractions. In this real estate market and in this economy, the right location is out there.

If this guy's beer is as good as his attitude, we are all in for a big treat when these cats BLOW. UP. Which hopefully they will. And hopefully, I will be able to cop some free samples.

WINK.

To read more about the dopeness that is Fullsteam, check out a local NC article on them here or check out a slightly less well-conducted interview than mine with Sean at Serious Eats.

Correction

2010-01-11T23:27:00.000-05:00

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

2010-01-11T15:24:00.000-05:00

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.

First is Belhaven Wee Heavy. Traditionally brewed in Scotland, Belhaven has been around forever and stands as a pretty good archetype of the style. The body is predominantly brown with hints of ruby red and orange, while the head, as is typical of the style, has a wonderful richness even out of a bottle. There is a rich caramel aroma with tons of sweetness and with VERY minimal hops, which you shouldn't look forward to tasting either. The flavor is built of toffee, caramel, and a hint of milk chocolate (as opposed to the dark chocolate of many stouts and porters). There is a bit of breadiness, though it is a malty one as opposed to yeast. The mouthfeel matches the head in creaminess, and as I got to the end and it warmed a bit, I even got a waft of peanut butter aroma (which I will never complain about). The body wore on me slightly as I went, as there was a fatty, almost greasy quality to it, but the flavor made up for it. Definitely a great place to start in the style.

After that came Brasserie De Silly Scotch Silly Wee Heavy. As opposed to the traditional Scottish brew, this is made in Belgium which means two things: 1) There is a higher ABV (8 vs. 6.5) and that there are some ecentric liberties taken with the style. BDS is a little darker than the Belhaven, and presents a slightly less pleasant aroma, with a more general sweetness that actually feels kind of awkward. It sort of smells like toffee bubble gum, and is nice in the sense that it is sweet, but not nice in the sense that that combination is gross. The body is darker and the mouthfeel more crisp than Belhaven, though they of course share the rich maltiness inherent in the style. How the malt presents is completely different, as it seems these crazy Belgians have added some of their trademark yeast to the mix. The sweetness is lighter and brighter, bringing vanilla, caramel, and yes, even a hint of bubble gum in the finish. That it is thinner makes it a bit more drinkable, and the Belgian yeast makes it more distinct in taste and aroma, but I have to give the flavor nod to Belhaven.

Both of these beers are good, and if you ever get hopped out from American craft beer, a Wee Heavy can be a nice alternative. You have to deal with a large amount of rich sweetness (itself not for everyone), but within that sweetness are layers and layers of malty diversity and probably my favorite body and texture of any style. On draft these beers are even better - richly cascading ruby-brown beauties that can have a texture bordering on "milkshake". Scotland also doesn't generally get a rep as a brewing hub (it's not), so throwing them some props for the style they do so well (or um . . . to the other places who stole it and put their own spin on it) is vital in the beer community.

Happy New Beer

2009-12-31T14:41:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone. You should be able to tell from the title of this post that, beginning next year, I will be a horrible writer. I also sold the blog to Anhueser-Busch. I mean, let's be real. These exotic beers "crafted" by people who "care" and filled with "flavor" and just grandiose delusions. Let's just scrap the whole thing and bow to our corporate overlords, shall we?

No, in fact, this past year has seen craft brewing absolutely explode and continue to eat into the coffers of the mega-rich and unconcerned beer corporations. As craft beer gets better and better, corporate beer seems to have little way to fight back. Let's face it: if Budweiser effing WHEAT is all we have to fear, this should be a prosperous 2010. If you can't hear it, I get massive joy, as both a foodie and borderline commie, to see the little guy taking on and sticking it to the big one for once, and without losing its integrity no less. Craft beer's revolution is one of not just flavor, but economy and culture as well.

To celebrate the end of the year, and at the behest of some very loved and loyal readers, I've decided to put together a brief compendium of the best beers I have mentioned or reviewed on the blog. I've included a VERY brief description of each beer, as well a link back to the post where I give it props. Keep in mind this is limited ONLY to what I've written about, and probably covers about 0.5% of all the good beer out there. But what I've learned from writing this is that any one of these beers can be the one to bring a newbie into the fold, or to give a seasoned pro a new way of looking at things. I can't stress enough: go out and find a beer. Try something new, and dip your toe into the ocean of flavors craft beer has become. I know one beer can change someone's whole way of looking at food and drink. I've had hundreds of different beers, and I'm still surprised every time. My mouth is jubilant, my eyes light up, and I realize I'm a part of something special. So, from me to all y'all: happy new year, and DRINK SOMETHING.

Dogfish Head Midas Touch - A brilliant brew with saffron, honey, and juicy white grapes. Great for special occasions.

Stone Double Bastard Ale - Hops, alcohol, and more hops, as well as more hops than you can imagine. Stone lays down the gauntlet.

Elysian Pumpkin Ale - You can't get it anymore, but write it down and buy it next year. Unbelievably wonderful.

Greenport Harbor Brewing - These up-and-coming LI brewers (and my Facebook friends) killed at the IGBE a few months back. Don't sleep on them.

Fire Island Red Wagon IPA - Easy to get in NY (and at my restaurant), this fantastic IPA balances abundant hops with a crisp body and mellow aftertaste for an uncommonly smooth IPA.

Grimbergen Double Abbey Ale - One of my favorite Belgians, you'll get chocolate, banana and straight Belgian craft.

Legacy Euphoria Ale - A Belgian-inspired (and aesthetically beautiful) ale from PA with a crisp, light body and notes of banana and spice

Stone Levitation Ale - Low ABV lets you enjoy this hoppy little gem for hours on end. Citrus and a hop punch.

Brown Beaver Imperial Hefeweissen - I don't think anyone will ever find this beer, but it was awesome so I have to shout it out.

Uinta Anniversary Barleywine - A big warming barleywine. You want to drink this chocolatey, floral brilliance.

Sierra/Dogfish Head Life and Limb - Difficult to get, but every 24 oz. bottle holds a big, boozy victory lap for craft beer.

St. Peter's Cream Stout - Sweetly burnt malt holds this beer up with the best stouts. Elegant and precise.

Abita Christmas Ale - Seriously, it tastes JUST like a Christmas tree.

Southampton Imperial Porter - Sweet and easy to drink, this porter nails a difficult style well.

Rogue Santa's Private Reserve Ale - Wonderful notes of everything from cinnamon to iced tea color this excellent seasonal brew.

Allagash Curieux - Belgian-inspired brilliance from Maine.

Unibroue Ephemere - Apples, apples, and apples abound in this Belgian-esque Canadian refresher.

Anchor Christmas Ale - Gingerbread flavors explode out of this rich seasonal from the legendary San Fran brewery.

Goose Island Imperial Brown Ale - Holy sweet lord. So . . . good. Notes of caramel, brown sugar, almond, coconut and everything else that is good pop up in this Chicago masterpiece.

Beer Holiday (Part 2 of 2)

2009-12-29T11:40:00.000-05:00

Without much further ado . . . part two . . .

Hook Norton Brewery Twelve Days of Christmas Ale - This is a brewery out of England with which I was unfamiliar, and to be honest, I bought the beer because the bottle was quite pretty. There are many reasons to buy a beer. That's an acceptable one. Shut up. Anyway, I was greeted with a sweet citrus aroma. This definitely plays into the flavor. The beer trades in drinkability, the light body packing medium carbonation. The crispness in the body brings notes of wheat bread, piney hops, and even something in the neighborhood of vanilla cake. It also provides a malty zing in the center back of the tongue, balanced with an underlying delicate fruitiness that makes it supremely easy to drink. However, the overall sum of the beer is a bit underwhelming. It tastes crisp and upscale, yet inoffensive to the point of being mostly forgettable.

It is here that we make a special excursion. I was recently taken out to Spitzer's, a beer bar and restaurant on the Lower East Side that is rocking a SERIOUS draft beer menu (I won't talk about the bottles). The food was dope; the beer copious, reasonably priced, and chosen well. They rocked it, and if you don't mind a few collared-shirt d-bags in the place with you (thanks Giuliani), you could have a great time. Just repeat: Ignore the twats, enjoy the beer.

We had a wonderful selection of beers on this particular night. It is always exciting to go out and have ONE new good beer, but I had FOUR, and I can safely say that I left in . . . um . . . good spirits.

I started with the Allagash Curieux. Allagash operates our of Maine and is HIGHLY respected, with good reason. When the menu said this 11% Belgian-style Trippel would "kick your ass", I had to try it. It did NOT kick my ass, but it did send me into a bit of beer heaven. A rich golden color and gentle yet prominent carbonation make this seem absolutely legit Belgian, and the flavors only reinforce that. Most American breweries couldn't even dream of getting that legendary banana note in there, let alone the myriad other flavors that show up, especially into a beer this light in body: buttery tones, fruit nectar, a light yeast. Each sip reveals something new. The beer almost teases you, throwing out a big huge note of something like golden kiwi, only to rip it away and replace it with something new. Sans menu, I would guess it was straight out of Belgium. Kudos to Allagash for the elegant brew. This is really something special if you can get your hands on some.

Next up (after a palate cleansing) was Anchor Christmas Ale. Now, I'm going to be honest. I like Anchor Steam, but I've never LOVED Anchor Steam. It is good, and always a great choice for festivities, but I wouldn't go out and just buy it for me. Their Christmas Ale on the other hand? Beast. They provide a rich, thick, sweet, dark ale peppered with notes of ginger, clove, cinnamon, and caramel to make what can only be described as an alcoholic gingerbread cookie. Absolutely delicious, and I HIGHLY recommend you seek this out, as it is relatively easy to find. Warning: drinking this from a bottle is sacrilege. Do it and FAIL.

On to Unibroue's Ephemere. Unibroue is Canadian, which doesn't mean a lot for their beer, other than that it is made by people with insurance and sensible gun laws. However, they have managed to stake quite a reputation on Belgian-inspired brews (similar to Allagash), and they always seem to bring something quirky to even the most revered styles. Their Ephemere seems to be an homage to a fruit lambic. The color is a slightly green-tinted light yellow . . . or say, something like this, which is pretty much what it tastes like too. There aren't a ton of layers, but it packs an ample amount of apples (say that last part out loud), and perfectly blends sweet and tart for a very refreshing beer that would probably find a better home in summer. But no worries. It did well under difficult circumstances, and the aroma - with perpetually shifting notes of apple, peach, pear, and banana - is one of the best I've ever experienced.

Now, I went a bit out of order up top for dramatic effect. You see, once in a while a beer comes along that totally floors you. It not only speaks to your inner beer geek, the one searching for technique, but also to that guy or girl in you who just wants something delicious. On this night we all experienced Goose Island Imperial Brown Ale. If there is any place within ten miles of you that sells this, GET IT. NOW. Seriously, stop reading this shitty article and drink the beer.

Goose Island is from Chicago and has a deserved reputation as some of the best brewers there are. Their IPA is a thing of tremendous beauty, their oatmeal stout is delicious, and I hear tell that their specialty/limited brews are wonderful. I hadn't had one until this night, and by the end, everyone in our group was won over, each person drinking their own based on a sip from someone else's. The flavors . . . my god . . . the flavors. Brown sugar, caramel, toffee, almond, butterscotch . . . oh, and the COCONUT. Are they SERIOUS? It was absolutely heavenly, and unlike the Allagash brew where the obscuring of the alcohol let the slighter notes roam freely, Goose Island smartly realized they were working with a different beast. The upfront flavors are uniformly sweet, so the booze gets tucked away into the finish, cleansing the palate of the sweetness. This insidious trick only makes you more desperate to get back to the mind-erasingly ecstatic cornucopia of sugary treats that warms your mouth on every sip. That's right. Think that was pompous? Wait until you hear the stupid shit you blurt out when YOU drink it. It makes an otherwise level-headed character drop a "cornucopia" or "bjornboggle!" which is Dutch for, "I seriously just crapped my pants because this is so good." (Theirs is a language of economy.)

My girlfriend said it tasted "like a beer reward", and as usual, she was right. It tastes like a treat. It is a treat. It brought our tastebuds alive and the group together in a uniformly gushing mass of fanboy nerdery. The relaxed drinker in the geek likes it, and the geek resting within every casual fan likes it. It brings people together, warms up a chilly December night, and tastes like it was made just for you. Cheers to that.

Beer Holiday (Part 1 of 2)

2009-12-28T12:51:00.000-05:00

Well well well. Merry Christmas. Not "Happy Holidays". Keep in mind I am half Jewish by birth and all atheist by choice. Merry Christmas.

Christmas/Chanukah/winter bring with them some awfully yummy beers, in particular imperials and other high alcohol beers that get you drunker faster, so you can get on with the busy task of finding your family funny instead of terrifying. Even though posting has been sporadic lately, I have been steadily trying new beers and will, over the next couple days, give a somewhat concise rundown and review of every last one of them. There's still time to pick up these seasonal beers, though often they are in incredibly limited batches. So go out, buy beer, get warm.

Southampton Imperial Porter - Southampton comes from upstate New York, and are VERY well regarded. I've never been TOO enthused with their beers, but usually there is a refinement to them that makes them intriguing, if not always my favorite. Their Imperial Porter delivers like crazy though, and I have to give it to them for executing a very difficult style with, dare I say . . . aplomb? The difficulty with porter is that it falls into such a narrow window. In theory, it is a bit lighter and or/not as thick as a stout. But, when does it become simply a dark ale? So it should have some heft to it. Hard as hell, take my word for it. This one pours wonderfully with a thick head that holds abundant brown. The head maintains fantastically over a really dark opaque brown body. It drinks marvelously smooth, and the flavor brilliantly couples a sweet toffee with a richly burnt malt. The sweet upfront has a nice breadiness and even a hint of raspberry. A creaminess reveals as you drink and it warms a bit. Toward the finish, the burnt side reveals a hint of smokiness and charred wood. There is almost zero hop flavor, and if there is one knock I have, it is that this beer is almost TOO drinkable. Small qualm, indeed.

Great Divide Yeti Imperial Stout - Clocking in at 9.5 ABV and 75 IBUs, Great Divide Yeti wallows in all its Imperial-ness and Stout-itude. I'm gonna catch some heat for this one because Great Divide is so well-respected, but I really couldn't get into this beer at all. It pours with a thick, huge head bearing the color of chocolate milk. The aroma holds cocoa powder and dark chocolate with hint of fruit. In flavor, it skews way bitter (no surprise given the IBUs) especially in the finish. The mouthfeel is thick and almost syrupy. A chocolate flavor coats the tongue while the hops usher in a massive bitter finish with a hint of vanilla and almond. Frankly, the abundant hops don't integrate particularly well with the other more delicate notes and this diminishes the returns as you drink. Whatever intrigue there is in the beginning around the size of the flavors dissipates into a boozy wash of unfulfilled promise.

Rogue Santa's Private Reserve Ale - Rogue operates out of Oregon, and make some of the most well-respected, sought-after and flat-out copied beers in craft brewing today. They have an incredible knack for integrating tricky ingredients and high alcohol contents without overwhelming the, well, deliciousness of the beer. Santa's Private Reserve is wonderfully named. It makes me think that Santa has some stash of booze on a top shelf where the elves can't reach it. If this is what he is storing, he is most certainly onto something. The aroma balances hops with vanilla, cream, donuts, and warm bread. An acceptable head sits atop a nice amber/red body which definitely evoked Christmas colors for me. The flavor couples a pretty standard hoppy/malty balance with wonderfully exposed hints of caramel, pine, iced tea with lemon, and something like cinnamon or nutmeg. The smooth, light carbonation lets a robust warmth sink in and the flavors make themselves apparent without intruding. So smooth, so balanced, so easy to drink. It is flavorful and downright delicious. Hide it from your elves.

Party Crashers (Part 2 of 2): The Borings

2009-12-21T13:39:00.000-05:00

Last week, I briefly discussed some people showing up somewhat unwelcome to the craft beer festivities. If you recall, the offender was Sapporo for offering a beer that cost $130 for a six pack because the barley had been in space for a while. I consider Sapporo to be the friend who was essentially uninvited, and brings the straight horrendous, totally off-the-mark vibe to the party. No one likes him, and no one thought he was coming.

Today, I'd like to discuss a different type of guest. These are the people who WERE invited to the party, but who are your boring, "grown up" friends. These are the people who insist on making every party some sort of mind-numbingly awful exercise in adulthood, when sometimes you just want to dance to Michael Jackson and eat chocolate chip cookies. Hypothetically.

Why they show up to our parties and attempt to impose their will is anyone's guess. Perhaps they feel threatened by our idealistic energy; maybe they are just boring all they way into their miserable, sullen cores. We might never know. Well, we have a new addition to the list of people who fall into this category. Step aside people who name their kids Hayden and Cole, because effing WINE ENTHUSIAST has decided to rank the top 25 beers of the year.

Would you want this wine guy or Vampire Weekend at your party? I hope not.

If you are a total masochist and want a beer list to make you feel like a total moron, cruise on over, download the PDF, and read about bears that have notes of "horse blanket" and "toasted brioche drizzled in buttery caramel sauce". (Thankfully, those aren't the same beer). Throw in the fact that most of these beers are virtually unattainable anywhere aside from the Beer Advocate message boards and you have yourself a certified pomp-fest. I mean, they say one of the beers has notes of "nectarine pit". You can't even fucking eat that.

Well, Wine Enthusiast, you are our party crasher of the day. While you are smart and have a way with words, you still miss the point. Much like our sad, domesticated friends, you show up with all the interesting ingredients but with a presentation that misses the vibe completely. Keep in mind, I believe beer should be treated with the UTMOST respect, and getting past the traditional flavors is key to enjoying craft beer. However, turning our fun into a swirled-glass Monopoly-guy monocle party is positively . . . mature. Yuck. I'm getting notes of "bandwagon".

Party Crashers (Part 1 of 2): Bad Business

2009-12-15T12:08:00.000-05:00

Every party with more than a few people present is bound to have one or two people there that no one likes. They might be friends you feel forced to invite out of obligation, or friends of friends who pull the old "Tagalong", except with no cookies in hand. Cookies would make everything better, you see, and that is not their goal. Their goal seems to be to wander obliviously through life continuing to be unpleasant sans repercussions. Well, craft beer is no different. It is a huge party, and sometimes, we have some unwanted guests. Today and tomorrow I will be showcasing two very special, very unique, very recent crashes of our party. They even somehow represent the whole broad spectrum of party crashers.

Today, I bring you Sapporo. You might know Sapporo as "a Japanese beer" or "the de facto only drinkable beer at most sushi restaurants". You certainly don't think of them as "incredible" or "worth over a hundred dollars", though they might seem to think so. Allow me to explain.

Have you ever wanted to taste beer made with barley that had been in space? No? . . . Oh I'm sorry I misunderstood. You said, "What the hell are you talking about?" Sapporo has brewed a batch of beer (in this case, 100 liters) with barley whose seeds were flown around in space for 5 months. Mmmm . . . sounds delicious. You too can enjoy this space beer, whose label looks like a telethon logo, if you are willing to shell out $113 for a six-pack, as well as become a resident of Japan.

This is the first type of party crasher: the guy (or girl, but let's be real: it's probably a guy) who tries to fit in to the group, despite the fact that we have ZERO use for him, and generally ends up making a dink out of himself. Hey Sapporo . . . uh . . . didn't think you were coming tonight . . . .

Sapporo has not made any claim about space altering the taste in any way, nor does the article's claim that the barley had "seen more than most of us ever will" make me want to try this. In case the writer (Ms. Martha Kang) didn't know, barley doesn't have any eyes, thus making it impossible to drink any sweet, sweet memories it might have.

So, there you have it. Sapporo shows up uninvited with a ridiculous third-rate gimmick trying to hang with people who actually have friends. Sapporo knows what's up: millions of people DRINK Sapporo, but no one LOVES Sapporo. That means Sapporo should probably just go hang out with, oh I don't know, Yes, Dear, Starbucks, and Matchbox 20. They're richer there than at our party anyway. Definitely more your crowd. Hey, you can play Scruples. Everyone loses!

In their defense, Some TV station in EM-EFFING BOISE is reporting this, so it must be a big deal

Eel River Organic Porter

2009-12-14T11:52:00.000-05:00

Damn you organic beer!!!!!! Why? Why is something so potentially wonderful almost always such a dismal failure? If you recall, I scribbled out a treatise on this some time ago, coming to the conclusion that organic beer was really in its infancy, and while it might not be great yet, it has a ton of growing to do. As the market opens up, we should be in for an organic embarassment of riches. Well . . . then we have Eel River.

Eel River Organic fell into my hands for free, a result of managing a restaurant that sells beer and skews natural/organic. Our distriubutor apparently hounded our other location EVERY OTHER DAY to try this stuff, which must mean he goes home and cries at night because his job involves relentlessly pushing some absolutely useless organic concoction to natural joints around the city.

After perusing the four bottles I was given, I opted for the porter, seeing as it offered me the best indication of my chances. If they could make a porter that impressed me, then they must really have something going. Eel River Porter has a fizzy, light appearance with a roasty, almost woody scent. Not terribly unpleasant, but not exceptional either. The head is equally light and fizzy, dissipating very quickly, even in a small, friendly glass. The taste skews heavily coffee, with hints of sweetness. It is clean and crisp, but without any richness or character to it. As the coffee and earthy notes try to assert themselves, they are constantly hindered by a watery tang, and the body is thin as can be while still maintaining as a porter. This watery, thin body and flavor makes the whole beer feel totally incomplete and off target.

Not surprisingly, their other beers couldn't really hang either. The IPA is the most basic, standard, unremarkable IPA I've ever had and their California Blonde is pleasant while making sure not to be "too good" or adventurous. The brewery is just flat out boring and undercooked. As for that fourth beer? I gave it away.

Playing Catch-up

2009-12-10T11:23:00.000-05:00

During my (way too long) hiatus, I still managed to squeeze in a beer or two. As a matter of fact, I even managed to sprinkle alongside some traditional favorites (hello Delirium Noel, sweet friend) a few new beers, at least to me. I can't emphasize enough: there are so MANY Christmas ales, barleywines, imperial stouts, limited releases, and generally wonderful beers out this time of year, skip the lame-ass wine at your next shindig and pick up an interesting beer. I guarantee you, in a group of ten people, at least one will always dig an off-the-radar beer selection, even if they don't fancy themselves beer nerds.

St. Peter's Cream Stout - This beer has been around forever, but I had actually never had it before. It pours with a rich, thick, cascading head with a load of brown still in the head. Very, very dark body. It had a rich roasted scent with hints of fruit and chocolate. It actually bordered on Raisinets, which of course is not unpleasant. It drinks very smoothly, with a hearty, full body. There are hints of sweet cola in there which go nicely with the most prevalent taste, that of a balanced burnt malt that creates the standard coffee present in most stouts, as well as some fantastic spicy notes. As I drank my pint, I wasn't too enthralled, but SPCS really stuck with me, and I've been finding myself craving another one. It has a quality that most beers would sell their souls for: it makes you want to have another. There is something wonderfully elegant and balanced about it. The burnt flavors all mingling with sweet undertones make it eminently drinkable.

High and Mighty Home for the Holidays Oak-Aged Brown Ale - I was fascinated when I saw this beer on the shelf. For one, proceeds from it go to veterans from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan which, around the holidays, is especially important. Two, it is oak-aged. Three, it was a brown ale with 7.2 ABV, which I had never had before. I was excited to taste a "holiday" brown ale, something I never really associated with Christmas, though I'm sure in England it is standard. It pours with a lovely head that manages to retain an orange-brown hue while the body is hazy with a bit of orange and red in the body. It has a buttery biscuit scent that is rather enticing. The body is well-carbonated with a full-flavor that really nicely coats the entire tongue. In there is a sweet bready yeastiness off set by a definite distinct hoppy citrus flavor that might be accentuated by the oak. It has a dry and toasty finish. There is something intriguing in there, though the hops have an odd tang that wore on me.

I took a couple minutes off from the beer and as it warmed, it mellowed a bit and this tang mellowed a bit. A hint of burnt malt, as well as the citrus, began to blend more easily into the whole of the beer, as opposed to being segmented parts. All in all, the beer is for a good cause, but I feel the oak is underused, while the hops are poorly used. It is easy to drink, but it seems to be sacrificing adventurousness to achieve that. I'm not regretful I bought it, since at least a portion of the money goes to the right kind of place, but unlike St. Peter's up top, it isn't keeping me coming back.

Honorable Mention: Abita Christmas Ale. Abita is out of Louisiana and I count every beer I've had from them as some of my favorites. Their Amber, Purple Haze Wheat, Pecan Harvest, and of course the phenomenal Turbodog (buy it, drink it, love it) are all wonderful. This Christmas Ale is no different. They harness some wonderful piney hops in a high but not off-putting quantity for a taste that resembles a Christmas tree. I sip and think of snow, Christmas lights, sweaters, and a nice fireplace. Fresh, clean, and spectacularly crisp, this beer is fantastic on a chilly night. It doesn't pack the high ABV of many holiday beers, but it encompasses a lot of what I love about holiday flavors. It is also a perfect example of a beer you COULD take to, say, a holiday party: it is really easy to drink while still being exciting and different from your standard beers.

Coming soon I'm going to have TWO new interviews with awesome breweries as well as more reviews, some bizarre news from the beer world, and hopefully a celebrity guest . . .

I found Life and Limb . . .

2009-12-08T10:58:00.000-05:00

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Okay it isn't that huge I guess, but this is my assumed reaction. Last night, on an unexpected beer journey that was made for no reason to a place I always forget about, I found a VERY reasonably priced bottle of Life and Limb, the collaboration between Sierra Nevada and Dogfish Head. Actually, I found three very reasonably priced bottles: one for the night, one for some sort of future celebration, and one to age (hang tight in my cabinet, broseph). Avid readers will recall that I blogged about this beer a few weeks back. Non-avid readers . . . um . . . what are you doing?

You probably at least vaguely know Sierra out of California, but you might not know Dogfish. They rock in Delaware, which makes them the most interesting thing in Delaware. Their beers are consistently some of the most complex, daring, and inventive flavors on the market, and as such they (and their owner Sam Calagione) are some of the big hitters in the craft industry. I also reviewed their fantastic Midas Touch way back, if you recall.

The beer is a bit of a love letter to the craft industry and its fans, so some context is definitely needed to enjoy it. Be warned: it is NOT an easy beer. Don't go looking for flavor notes or "hints of citrus", though I'm sure there are some subtleties to be had. This beer is designed to be big, bold, and for people who like difficult drinks. It has all the qualities that help diverge craft beer from the mainstream: massive alcohol content, yeast at the bottom, a release so limited I thought I would have to murder a snitch for some south Brooklyn "garbage men" to get my hands on one. In that way, it is almost meant to be a moment where everyone who loves craft beer can crack one open, sit back, and reflect on our progress.

That being said, this is a MASSIVE beer. I opened it thinking I was going to pour it and chill during the football game. Nope. Nu-uh. I had to mute the TV to really deal with this flavor. It is naturally carbonated, meaning carbonation is created from the fermentation process and without gas being added. It also has both birch and maple syrups in the mix. It pours a very deep, dark red with a head that has a light red or caramel hint. The head pours huge and dies out substantially, but it maintains pretty well (the marbling is awesome). The aroma packs hints of cola, syrup, brown sugar, and . . . gulp . . . alcohol. Yup, straight booze.

The alcohol is really, really evident in both aroma and taste. Clocking in at 10.2%, Sierra and Dogfish made no effort to mask the alcohol (remember, it is a celebration). Oddly enough, a Cadbury chocolate toffee bar took a lot of that out and created some room to enjoy the maple syrup flavor, as well as the rich, hearty malt, and the late-entering hops. The beer also has a fantastic toast/roast balance. Some sips skew to a strong dark roast, while others present a gentle toastiness right up front. The other major player is the yeast. As I said, the yeast is physically present at the bottom of the bottle, and its bready flavor is all over this beer. It is most certainly an after-dinner drink, as it pairs well with sweets, but would probably decimate virtually anything else except maybe a steak or a cigar.

Upon our first sip, my girlfriend said it "tastes important". "I feel like I need permission to sit around and drink this in a circle of old men." Uh . . . yeah, that too. Odd as it is, that statement is pretty right on. Life and Limb is of kindred soul with scotch. It just feels special, and what it lacks in traditional drinkability, it makes up for in rebelliousness, and its "fuck it, we're respected already" carelessness. But it isn't a negligent carelessness, or an abandonment of craft. To the contrary, it appears they've taken amazing pains to get to this huge, jubilant experience in a bottle. It is a celebratory, victory-lap carelessness. To be honest, they've earned it. This beer is a blast to drink, even though it is tough to polish off the TWENTY-FRIGGING-FOUR OUNCE bomber. A thank you, a party, a grand and limited item to share with those close to you. They are sharing it with us, so we better share it as well. Catch me in the right mood and that second bottle might be for you . . . .

Good Beer Times: Uinta Anniversary Barleywine

2009-12-07T13:54:00.000-05:00

As I've said before, one of the best, if not the best thing about beer is the really great times it can encourage and even create among friends (or really cool strangers). Last week, my girlfriend's cousin and her fiancee (Julia and Matt, respectively) stayed over for a few days. Now, I have identified Matt as a potential convert to Beer Nerdery, and so I made extra effort to seduce him into my lifestyle. I made a beer run to Whole Foods specifically for the occasion in fact, and picked up a couple really fun beers. These, and some I plan to get soon, will make up my ongoing series of reviews on "holiday"/winter beers.

Winter beers tend to be darker, and you see a hefty emergence of imperial brews. Imperials are basically traditional styles with the alcohol level amped up seriously. For example, a regular stout might have 4% - 6% alcohol, while its imperial brother/sister might have 10% alcohol. So if you see "Imperial ______" on your bottle, get ready for some lightheadedness. There are of course exceptions (I just had Abita Christmas Ale and it is certainly not particularly dark), but high alcohol/dark beers are fantastic in cold weather, so more of these beers seem to emerge. Something else that blooms in winter is barleywine.

Barleywine is not wine. It is beer, and it is made with the exact same ingredients as your average beer. However, there really isn't an Imperial version, as there is no need. Barleywine by definition ranges from about 8.5% to 12% alcohol. My experience with it is limited, though growing rapidly, to the detriment of me being "awake". On the reccommendation of my local beer jockey, I picked up a pack of Uinta Anniversary Barleywine.

Uinta is a pretty small brewery out of Utah. They make a pretty good pilsner that we sell at my restaurant, but the great thing about them is that they are entirely WIND-POWERED! (This is where I nerd out. Wind-powered beer. How do live there?) The other great thing about them is that their barleywine is outfreakingstanding and made possible-convert Matt and I very, very happy.

We opened our bottle not knowing exactly what to expect. The smell resembled chocolate-covered cherries to me, and there was very little hop aroma. Mainly there was just a rich, fruity yeast smell with a nice chocolate malt. The taste mirrors the aroma quite well, though it adds in a bit of breadiness and dried berries. The body is almost brandy-like, very smooth and warm. It has the slightest hint of carbonation that helps it go down tremendously easily. It was drinkable in the extreme, and even despite its 10.4% ABV, it is a remarkably easy beer to sip and enjoy.

What happened next will probably live in our family lore for years. After a bottle of the miraculous Uinta, Matt and I sank into what I can only describe as an angelic drunk. No headache, no thirst, no twice-an-hour bathroom trip. He and I sat on the couch, much to the amusement of our significant others, in a state of prolonged, nearly silent bliss. As a matter of fact, when we spoke, something like, "Wow, this stuff is amazing," was all that made its way out of our newly useless mouths. Our eyelids drooped, our tension slipped away, and our heads fell back on the softest couch we had ever known. It was the same couch as always I guess, but isn't that what this time of year should be about? The pillows feel fluffier, the blankets more enveloping, and the friends closer than ever. If a glass of barleywine can help . . . well, the more the merrier.

Return of the Mack

2009-12-07T13:20:00.000-05:00

I'm most certainly back, re-charged, and with everything in order. Despite (or possibly because of) massive life drama, I was fiending for some good seasonal and seasonally-appropriate beers. Now ~~my girlfriend~~ some of you have said I write waaaaayyyy tooooo mmmmuuuuuch, and that if I knew what was good for me, I'd shut my trap and look pretty. (You don't know what she's like in private.) In that spirit, and the spirit of blogging in general, I'm going to be trying (TRYING) to write in smaller, more concise doses. Of course, interviews and "essays" will still be a bit lengthy, but beer reviews and other such things will be tasty morsels. Think of them as those little Cadbury Cream Eggs. They aren't as big as those huge one pound buttercream shits, but they are still delicious and you aren't pissed off at the person who gave it to you for making you eat all that fat. Seriosusly, has anyone ever bought one of those huge eggs for themselves? No, they are all bought by jerks for other people. But I digress. That tangent is exactly what you will be seeing LESS of nowadays. Maybe. New post(s) a bit later.

Sorry!

2009-12-04T10:37:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone. I'm soooooooooo sorry I haven't posted this week. As I said, I had a family emergency, as well as some work issues, that needed to be tended to. All is well now and I shall return triumphant and well-nourished MONDAY, (mostly) posting every weekday. Thanks!

Bad Times

2009-11-30T12:37:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone. After a long weekend of drinking and merriment, I was interrupted at work Sunday with news of a family emergency. I will be back in blog-land Wednesday, but right now, there are more important things. Be well everyone.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

2009-11-25T17:03:00.000-05:00

Oh my. I'm indulging in my old love (my girlfriend) and my new love (barleywine). If you have never had barleywine, find your closest stressed-out friend, share a bottle of barleywine, and slip into a relaxation heretofore unknown.

Before I drop off the map entirely for a day of relaxation, I recently made a trip to my local Whole Foods in search of seasonal and seasonally appropriate (big difference) beers for this week's festivities. The backstory on this is that Dogfish Head and Sierra Nevada have fulfilled the will of the gods and collaborated on a beer. It is called Life and Limb, and aside from getting monster reviews all over the interwebs, it also has the most beautiful label ever.

I inquired about whether they were carrying this beer STRICTLY because I thought they wouldn't have it, and that the deprivation and delayed gratification created by this response would take me back to my joyless childhood. Pretty standard right? Woe is me, they actually had it. But in a sick and perverse fulfillment of my initial expectation, it hadn't been entered into the system and so was not for sale yet. Bribery? Nope. Sweet-talk? Nu-uh. The Whole Foods beer guy was wonderfully knowledgeable and tragically fixated on "not being fired". Such was my luck, but with some effort, I expect to get to my hands on a bottle. And the dope-ass t-shirt.

Because of job craziness and holiday preparations, the blog was AWOL this week. I know, I know. Who will force his friends to read about his esoteric passion without me on the scene? Um . . . I don't know. Forget about blogging and the internet and the 24-hour news cycle. Sit back, crack open one of the ten million delicious seasonal beers on the market now, and enjoy quality time with some friends. I will be back next week with organic beers, seasonal beers, imperials and barleywines galore . . . *salivates* . . . ahem. Anyway, thanks for reading, and it is officially the season to drink with your peoples. Peace to all.

Beef: Food Pairings?

2009-11-19T10:49:00.000-05:00

No no white people. I mean "beef" like "conflict". It isn't really beef, maybe just a spirited debate. If you haven't, go check out A Good Beer Blog. It's . . . um . . . a really good beer blog. Seriously. Creator and editor Alan McLeod is a fantastic writer and he has been wonderfully kind to me regarding my young efforts when I have contacted him. But a couple days ago, he posted this article he wrote about food and beer pairing. If you don't feel like going there (doitanyway), basically his point is that enjoying beer with food should be exactly that: enjoying, instead of memorializing and deifying some sort of taste experience. Now, as a food nerd, I shudder a little at this. One reason I love working in the restaurant industry, and one of the main reasons I love writing here, is that I find it exhilarating and joyous to describe (or attempt to describe) complex flavors and aromas. However, the bit of writing he cites as an example of a certain disconnect between current beer writing and beer consuming is postiviely cringe-worthy. Here it is, live from The Age via A Good Beer Blog:

"...beer is also great as a cleanser in the middle of a meal." A meeting with the makers of his cleanser of choice — Red Hill's Golden Ale, which he served topped with a kaffir lime foam — at an earlier Taste event, led to a joint venture in which he created a degustation menu matched with their beers. Taking the flavours of the beers as his starting point, he came up with dishes a world away from the humble meat pie... Among the fare was the aforementioned smoked trout appetiser along with pairings of Red Hill's heavier Hop Harvest and Scotch ales with slow-cooked Sher wagyu, smoked ox tongue, skordalia and grains, a wheat beer with Locheilan brie, banana bread and plum jam, and a powerful Imperial Stout with a treacle tart served with an impossibly rich sticky toffee pudding ice-cream.

Wow. Honestly, I know El Bulli wins Greatest Restaurant in the Galaxy every year, but is there anything less appetizing than fucking delicious food turned into FOAM? "Yeah the texture of this salmon is beautiful, but I just prefer FOOOOOAAAAMM." That has never been said, nor will it be said. So, yes this bit of writing is pretentious and awful, and I agree with Mr. McLeod's assertion in the comments section that "nerds need to be called out when they call themselves VIPs." (Ed. note: *dead*) But as the fantastic Stephen Beaumont points out when debating a seperate article, "I just don't want to be served slop when I'm out having a beer". I'm all over this. There is nothing more despairing than drinking a fantastic beer from a jubilant selection and being served useless, nothing food (*cough*Gingerman*cough*).

It might be presumptuous, but I'm going to chime in to this conversation with these two fantastic writers. On one hand, I completely agree with Mr. McLeod. There is nothing that can touch a good beer in a comfortable chair with some friends. It is times like those where even the beer can be simple, let alone the food. Nothing derails a day of football like me telling everyone what notes to look for in their beer (trust me). But on the other hand, why not? Why not dive into the complexities and interactions of a good beer's relationship to a good meal? There is a time and a place (and I think that the article cited above proves there is a style . . . yikes), but there is most certainly room for that level of interaction.

Beer gets into the nooks and crannies of food that wine can only dream of. As a matter of fact, I've stumbled on to more good beer and food pairings by accident than I have had even suggested to me for wine. Inevitably, someone from some paper or other is going to stroll in and, seeing the next big thing, try to rub his/her burgeoning expertise in everyone's face. It turns into a "who is more knowledgable" contest faster than a Pitchfork readers' convention. But we can't let a couple bad apples ruin our fun. If this guy's writing helps me get a decent meal at my local brewpub, then ultimately I have to be for it. How many potato skins must a man eat?

But Mr. McLeod, being a good writer, doesn't stop there. He goes on to make a provocative point. He feels that this sort of writing and some of craft beer's haughty behavior in general is "marketing into a niche". I touched upon this a little with my second day post on the IGBE, but it is one of the prevailing questions that faces craft beer now. How should it be presented? Ultimately, there will be no one particular way. But what will be the overall feel? Mr. McLeod is almost certainly more knowledgeable than me on this, but I have begun to investigate (via some interviews and conversations) what the feeling is on how craft beer is presented now versus how it should be presented in the long run. Do we view it an upscale alternative to washed-out corporate nastiness and risk alienating people, or should it be marketed as an everyone drink while possibly sacrificing the opportunity to bring beer into finer restaurants and higher regard?

This blog doesn't yet have a particularly active comments section, but I would very interested in hearing what readers have to say. What is your perception of craft beer? Do blogs like this help your perception? What about the article in question? I am going to cover this a great deal more, so please, LEAVE RESPONSES. Let's get some violence going in the comments . . .

Sam Adams: A Barrel of Fun

2009-11-18T12:39:00.000-05:00

Here is my take on Sam Adams. Honestly, I generally don't enjoy the taste of their beers. But their heart is always in the right place. They clearly value their craft, and just because I don't agree with their tastes doesn't mean I don't respect their process. Also, they were pioneers of some pretty radical stuff, bringing a lot of European styles into the mainstream American beer vocabulary. Plus, they are independent, so the fact that they have taken a small Boston-area brewery and turned it into a publicly traded company in around twenty years is impressive. They never compromised and never sold out. Their president Jim Koch is a jovial and enthusiastic face in the craft beer industry, and his beers have been responsible for a lot of people allowing themselves to become more adventurous with their palates. I myself owe a great deal of my endless search for new tastes to them. Let's face it: when you don't know much about beer, a honey porter or cherry wheat is pretty mind-blowing. These beers, and several others of theirs, redefined my beer vocabulary and expanded what I thought I knew about beer. So thanks Sam Adams. I'll be sending you the bill for my jaundice medication.

In addition to all of this, many people have mentioned how they are a pretty good barometer on trends. Well, as if to cement this reputation, they are getting in pretty early on one of the hottest (and best and tastiest) trends on the market now: barrel-aging.

The first barrel-aged beer I ever had was Brooklyn Black Ops, a dark, 10%-plus alcohol stout aged in a bourbon barrel, and I would definitely recommend giving it a whirl if you can find it/afford the exorbitant $20 per bottle your local Whole Foods says it is worth. The flavors a barrel can impart are just not replicable any other natural way, and barrel-aging is an art that I am excited to see re-grow. After being mostly lost for decades, the art of barrel-aging inevitably has not been perfected by our generation of brewers, and so I imagine these brews getting better and better as time goes on.

As reported on Wicked Local (come on Boston, you're better than thaaaa . . . nevermind), the Boston Beer company is creating a line of barrel-aged beers cleverly titled the Barrel Room Collection. I would imagine the Barrel Room is filled with old-timey telescopes and that it looks a lot like something out of Myst. Is that just me? Anyway, they have just released the first three beers in the line: American Kriek (a kriek is a beer fermented with cherries that skews sour), the New World Tripel, and the Stoney Brook Red. Additionally they are busting out the fun bacteria and obscure yeast combos to give these beers unique flavors in addition to the barrels. I have to say, I'm dying to try these. Sad thing is, they are only going to be sold in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Colorado . . . . Okay Massachusetts I get, but New Hampshire? Colorado?

I live in NYC assholes. I demand satisfaction.

Conversely, I have no interest in their Utopias collection which was apparently aged in a bank vault. No. I'm just hating. I desperately want to try them. But $150? Let's be real. That's eighty Colt 45's.

Live at the International Great Beer Expo (Part 2 of 2)

2009-11-17T11:27:00.001-05:00

I think it was telling that, as I walked around sampling over the course of the afternoon, the fact that I had a notebook and was writing down my observations seemed to draw disproportionate attention. This was not so much a "tasting" filled with adventurous minds as a huge room full of 750 people willing to pay $48 to drink an unlimited amount of beer for four hours. However, this only served to make my interactions with the brewers and their reps even more rewarding. They seemed relieved to talk to someone who actually had beer knowledge, and I was more than happy to converse with people who personally embody the qualities that help make craft beer so appealing to me: rebellious and eccentric, yet kind and personable. They have the genius of more "traditional" artists without the pretension and self-seriousness. The backdrop of frosted fauxhawk-sporting goons? It only made me feel luckier to have gotten to the secrets held within every glass. They are there for you too. If this blog has one purpose, it is to encourage everyone to throw off the stereotypical image of beer as frat-guy swill and seek out the beauty and artistry of carefully- and lovingly-made beer.

On the less dignified side of things, I got drunk. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't a fall-down, tear-filled, miserable drunk; it was a very happy drunk. But by the end of the day, I was drunk. As I mentioned at the end of the last post, the accepted maximum for beers in a tasting is twelve. My total for the day (as best I can recall) was something like twenty (ed. note: TWENTY). Admittedly, in the middle, my taste buds were reduced to mush and I briefly shifted to enjoying beers that I had already had at some point. The beers are so important to their brewers, and it would be disrespectful to taste them for the first time with anything less than a crisp palate. So at this point (right after the Amarillo Anonymous that closed the last post), I chilled out, had a hot dog, and recuperated in the food court. I drank lots of water and tried to get my focus back for the second half of the day.

At this point, I just kind of milled about. In my travels I managed to find the Sugar Hill table. Sugar Hill contract brews upstate now, but it is originally from HAAAAARLEMMMM, so I love it. It is pretty much a standard lager. It doesn't have a complex flavor profile or deep notes that make it work. It is purely a sentimental favorite for me. I was ecstatic to see them there, and their reps were awesome. Big shout to Sugar Hill for some hospitality and good local beer.

Next up, Dutch twist pretzel in hand, I stumbled onto Grimbergen Double Abbey Ale. This was one of the high points of my life. Let me explain. Many moons ago I traveled to Milwaukee, home of Miller Park, Miller Street, and Miller Genuine Draft Day Care Center. It is also home to two of my closest friends, Mike and his fiancee Katie. They took me to a Belgian restaurant, of which I CAN'T remember the name no matter how hard I try, even though it was the Belgium Cafe or something similarly obvious. It was where I tried the Tripel Karameliet for the first time, and where I first tried Grimbergen.

For the uninitiated to Belgian brews, Belgium is renowned for much of their beer but staked a great deal of their reputation on Trappist Ales. These are ales brewed in monasteries by monks (fo' serious), and have been for decades. Abbey ales are NOT necessarily brewed in these monasteries, but are in the style and tradition of these beers. A double/dubbel or triple/tripel is called as such because they feature higher alcohol contents. When I first had the Grimbergen Abbey Ale, I fell in love with it. I don't remember what I had it paired with, but the beer was an amazing and elegant blend of sweet banana and chocolate flavors that somehow managed to pack the right amount of Belgian toasty bitterness in to balance it out. It was magical and I spent the next year searching for the beer everywhere to no avail. When I found it at this event, I basically lost my shit, and couldn't wait to pair it with my pretzel. The saltiness didn't exactly serve the beer, but it did bring out some of the hops and yeast character that I missed the first time. Now I've tracked down this fantastic beer and I probably won't let it be out of my life for so long again.

By now I had recovered. Good food, good conversation, and about six gallons of water cleansed my palate and brought my focus back. On the way to the event, I shared a cab with one of the owners/brewers of Legacy Brewing. Sigh. I forget his name. But he was a very nice guy and I hope to be in touch with them soon. They brew in Pennsylvania and were sampling two beers this day, the fantastically-named Hoptimus Prime (come on, you wish you thought of that) and their Euphoria Ale. I asked him what I should look for in the Euphoria and when he replied, "a hint of banana," it was go time. It definitely got the award for Most Beautiful Beer, sporting an absolutely gorgeous golden color that was marvelously rich yet completely transparent. It had the body of a pilsner but the rich aroma, delicate spice, and (yup) that hint of banana made it a step above. A really good beer made with restraint and confidence that yielded new, tiny flavors with each sip.

The gentleman from Legacy suggested I go right next door to Long Ireland and their . . . god yes . . . cask. It was called Celtic Ale, and its flavors were well served by the very light carbonation the cask imparts. Its feel and taste were pleasantly buttery which went well with the slightly hoppy finish. It had warmed a bit too much at this point in the day, but it was still strong if not tremendously unique.

At about 2:45, I wandered to a part of the event I had already been to about 400 times and saw a bright yellow sign peering down, a hideous gargoyle emblazoned on the vinyl. Good god, Stone Brewing was there. Stone is based in San Diego and is one of the real heavy-hitters in craft beer. I briefly mentioned their Levitation Ale in the last post and wrote up their Double Bastard a while back. Their beers are always an experience, and whatever some might lack in traditonally enjoyable flavors, they always make up for in uniqueness. They had their Levitation Ale at the event, and it is absolutely phenomenal. Big and bold but also complex, it feels like drinking 10,000 small parts. Sometimes it is fruity, sometimes it is piney; a vicious smack of hops or a sweet citrus melody. Damn it is good and I was so excited to get a few ounces in at the event.

At this point I ran over to check out the previously mentioned Greenport seminar, and while there I met Jim Brown from Brown Beaver Brewing. He was attending the event as part of the Brewers' East End Revival (B.E.E.R., ya see?), a homebrewing/beer appreciation club. His brewery had won a contest with a frigging PILSNER to be distributed by Blue Point. While they didn't have the pilsner with them, they had several beers on tap for the day at their booth. His friend Mitch Serraino, who has started North Cliff Brewing, rolled over with an Imperial Pumpkin Ale. Let me say, this beer was unbelievable. He estimated it rocking 8.5% alcohol and you. could. not. taste it. It was a smooth and wonderful pumpkin ale that would get you very drunk, very quickly. The kicker? Cat uses pumpkins and hops he GROWS HIMSELF. He probably blew the glass for the mug too.

Over at the Brown Beaver table, I sampled their Hefeweissen and Imperial Hefeweissen. ("Imperial" in beer speak is code for "twice the alcohol you're used to".) The Hefeweissen was great if not terrifically complex, but the Imperial was just emphatic. It harnessed the alcohol taste to accentuate the well-toasted wheat, and it packed complex flavors into every corner. I've always enjoyed oatmeal stouts and wheat beers because I dig the way those grains taste when they're kilned, and this Imperial was a really great example of why. It was rich without being heavy, perfectly carbonated, and brought the wheat front and center, deep citrus and coriander notes holding down the background in a traditional yet non-cliched way. A really great beer from a really, REALLY tiny brewer. It also sort of symbolized a of great craft beer in a way, looking back to tradition while moving forward.

But where exactly are we moving? Is craft beer today merely a reaction to corporate beer? No, though with all the difficult, hoppy-to-the-point-of-pain crafts being made, one could be forgiven for thinking so. Is it all, under the umbrella of craft, somewhat similar? Well, in a way. While the flavors vary wildly, it all seems to have the same spirit. Don't be fooled: you can taste the spirit. You can taste the spirit and the love and the community in each glass. Will it become insular and incestuous or will it assimilate into the mainstream and lose its character? There is a great deal of debate about this and thus about how craft beer presents itself in general. But these two options presuppose that there is an "undesirable element", that if these mooks at the event HAD enjoyed craft beer, they would have deadened its spirit in some way. However, the opposite is true: every convert is one less corporate beer customer. We don't dislike corporate beer because it is corporate; we dislike it because it is terrible. If Abita became huge without sacrificing quality, I hope we would continue to cheer them on. I hope we welcome everyone with open arms, and it is only in the creating of a family that we can avoid becoming as pompous as the winefolk. As far as the mainstream goes, craft beer has always seemed to me to say, "We are going to take our share," and I hope that continues to be true. If that means our favorite brewers pass that imaginary and arbitrary sales mark where they become "too big", that is a small price to pay. Within one day I sampled an absolutely mammoth array of tastes and textures, yet this was only a fraction of a fraction of the rainbow craft beer has created. To keep that to ourselves would be a crime. Enjoy, everyone. And try to enjoy everyone.

Live at the International Great Beer Expo (Part 1 of 2)

2009-11-16T13:56:00.003-05:00

This past Saturday, the International Great Beer Expo took over the Nassau Coliseum on Long Island, NY. I didn't know exactly what to expect from the trip or the event. In truth, this was my first large-scale beer event. Would I be out of my depth? Would this be an all-star gathering of the beer cognoscenti, talking hop-backs and obscure European beers I could only dream of ever getting my hands on? Um . . . no.

It would be hard to talk about the event without at least briefly discussing Long Island. I've always been fascinated by LI, so on my journey I decided to make a bit of a photo-journal of their particular culture.

Transportation

Style & Culture

Crime

Okay so maybe it isn't that bad, but Long Island is a strange and terrifying place. Haven for the rich? Ground zero for mooks? Depends on where you are. Now in NYC I can tell a 72nd St. Gray's Papaya from a 34th St. one, but on Strawng Island, I don't know whether I'm going to Syosset or Nipseydocket. Such was my strife on Saturday, en route to the Expo. Eventually I found my way, and was shown very quickly the tone of the event. When the first guy walked in with a Miller High Life shirt, I got nervous. When he was trailed by a guy wearing a shirt that said, "Swallow . . . or it's going in your eye," I was terrified. I am not making that shirt up.

I walked in and was immediately struck still: Sam Adams, Blue Moon, and Dos XX. The first three booths I saw. "Oh my god," I thought. "I just paid $48 for Corporate Beer Fest '09." I paused, took a deep breath, and literally broke into a jog, desperately hunting down a craft brewery. Fortunately, the proximity to the door of these larger breweries was BECAUSE they were the larger breweries, and tucked behind them was a rich and wonderful array of well-known craft brewers, homebrewing clubs, and everything in between. From the garage to multi-national, multi-label umbrella companies, everything was there. Scantily clad women faux-cheerily handed out corporate swill for rent money while daydreaming about their other goals. Genuinely happy (and thus far more beautiful) everymen and everywomen from craft breweries extrapolated on their labors of love, already living their dreams. It was the best and worst of beer. And since I had no intention of wasting my tolerance on a Radeberger that I could get anywhere, I was free to dive in to the exotic flavors and artistry American craft beer. Both were on full display, so with blinders turned up and destinations circled, I went about my joyous work . . .

Much to my dismay, my camera says it was "not stored properly" and so all my pictures from the event were lost, though there wasn't much to see. Imagine a huge warehouse with tables lined up around the perimeter. That was about it. My first stop was Sam Adams Imperial White. I know, I know. I just shat all over them, lumping them in with the corporate bile-brewers. To be fair, Sam Adams is independent. They definitely don't make beers that I love, but their heart is in the right place. I knew their crafty leanings would be the perfect thing to wake up my palate without setting the bar too high. The Imperial White just premiered this year, so I was excited to try it for that reason as well. The nose is robustly fruity, with hints of rose and citrus peel. Inside the beer, there are delicate notes of honey and spice. Unfortunately these get buried beneath awkward, overly tangy carbonation and a whopping 10.3% ABV, of which you can taste every drop. It was served rather cold, and I would imagine the beer would be better a good 6-8 degrees warmer, but even so, a heavy-handedness pervades it.

My next stop was Greenport Harbor Brewing from Long Island, and they were the first all-stars of the day. I was pulled aside to a stray table housing a few casks, and saw Greenport doing an old ale out of the EFFING CASK. Now while I doubt this was a traditional old ale (as in, aged in wood for a year or two), I immediately fell in love with the aroma, roasty and filled with coffee. The head was gorgeous, the feel was as smooth as could be, and the late toffee finish sealed the deal. It was elegant yet accessible, and I knew I had to check out the Greenport table proper. Their porter was not exactly my cup of tea, but I had to try their Leaf Pile Pumpkin Ale. The immediate flavor is just brilliant, a burst of pumpkin and cinnamon sugar. The aftertaste is a bit light relative to the initial burst of flavor, but it is hard to complain when the bulk of the beer is executed with such precision.

Their beers were good enough that I had to watch when their two founders, John Liegey and Rich Vandenburgh, gave a mini-seminar on starting a brewery. They did admirably under awful circumstances. The acoustics and set-up of the "seminars" were atrocious, but they kept their tremendous beer flowing through the session, and were kind to everyone. Without question, their old ale and Leaf Pile were two standouts of the day. Look out for these guys. They know what they're doing.

Another exciting booth awaited me just a few kiosks down. Fire Island Brewing Co., also from Long Island, was repping hard with both their excellent Lighthouse Ale (which I had tried previously) and their Red Wagon IPA. Just released last week, this IPA is just phenomenal. It sports a 7% ABV, which goes by almost unnoticed on the tongue. Delightfully spicy hops coat the mouth, but the brilliance lies not just in the utilization of the hops for an uncommonly rich IPA flavor, but in dispatching with the astringent, rubbery aftertaste some ultra-hoppy beers bring. Instead, Red Wagon finishes with a hint of malty sweetness that made me want to go back to the beer for another sip all the more. As I told them, this stands up with the best IPAs I've ever had, including Stone Levitation. In addition to making incredible beer, founders Bert, Jeff, and Tom were SO hospitable and forthcoming with info about the brews. They only make two so far, but they are absolutely for real.

Next up was John Harvard's from Little Grove, NY. I have no clue where this is. But when I heard they had an Irish Cream-flavored stout in a CASK, it was most certainly on. This beer was a great example of why I loved this event. I probably couldn't drink a pint (or even a half-pint) of this beer but it was such a unique, bold flavor, I won't forget it. Texturally, and sweetness-wise, it is sort of in league with Southern Tier's Creme Brulee Stout: heavy, syrupy, and packed with alcohol. Aged three weeks in the cask, it rocked about 7-8% ABV and tasted like a pre-made car bomb, which I suppose isnt surprising. It was sweet for my taste, but it felt like they got the exact flavor they wanted. The craft was there and the beer was exciting.

They also make a brew called Amarillo Anonymous. It was medium gold, inching into light brown, with a sweet caramel aroma. The initial flavor skews hoppy, but it blossoms into a zesty orange sweet/spicy combo that makes it difficult to classify and thoroughly enjoyable.

It was at this point that I was . . . ugh . . . actually a little tired of beer. To be respectful of the brewers, acknowledge the shortcomings of my own palate, and attempt to keep this in the friendly spirit that should pervade craft brewing and beer enjoyment in general, I have refrained from writing about any beers that I did not particularly enjoy. But if you are counting at home, at this point I had already tried ten different beers. The generally accepted max on a day's tasting is around twelve. Suffice it to say, I wrecklessly decimate this number. The rest of the beers will be brought out tomorrow. Another cask, some NYC love, and Stone Brewery shows up fashionably late . . . .

Alehouse Heroes: Shane Welch, President and Brewmaster of Sixpoint

2009-11-12T11:02:00.002-05:00

You know, this gig just gets better and better. For this week's Alehouse Heroes, we have Shane Welch, the President, Brewmaster, and local genius behind Sixpoint. Sixpoint brews out of Brooklyn, so of course they have my home-team support, but additionally they happen to be absolutely phenomenal. Their Brownstone is roasty with chocolate tones, the Righteous Rye conjures up a delicious pastrami sandwich, their Deisel Stout is a toffee-lover's dream, and on and on. My first experience with Sixpoint was at my last restaurant. We were thinking of adding a Sixpoint to our tapline, and they sent a rep over to give us a tasting. We were blown away and had a seriously rough time choosing only one. (Editor's note: we picked Righteous Rye. Seriously. It's incredible.) What was most impressive was how knowledgeable their rep was, and that he brought samples of the ingredients so that we could smell the hops, taste the rye, and see the quality that underlies each beer. If you go to the Sixpoint website, this is how they roll. They have in-depth coverage of their brewing process and ingredients there too. It is this transparency, pride in craft, and superior bold flavors that make them a local favorite. Hopefully, the rest of the country will enjoy their brews soon. As for this article, Mr. Welch is incredibly thoughtful and kind with the newbie blogger. Over the course of this fantastic interview, we talk about his company's penchant for transparency, brewing success, and why a 110 year old Bass can teach us about the future of craft.

T1D: What was the moment your love of beer and brewing came into focus?

SW: Probably the moment when I decided to drop out of school to become a brewer! I was 20 years old, and at this point in time I was completely obsessed with making beer and reading every manual, textbook, magazine, and trade journal I could find on the subject. However, I also had the nagging annoyance of my other schoolwork that was detracting me from what I believed to be my true calling. When I quit school, it opened up so much more time to develop my craft. During this period, I spent many hours experimenting and building different devices that really honed my technique as a craftsman. I had so much fun even though I spent so much time alone. It was like I was a kid again, playing with my G.I. Joes.

T1D: What in particular inspires your creations?

SW: Different pathways....sometimes through experimentation as a homebrewer, and in this sense, it is a little random, and a little intuitive. Sometimes it is when I travel and I try some amazing flavor combination in foods or beverages that I consume during my journeys..I think to myself, "hey....I should try something like that." Or sometimes I'm just kicking back a beer with my girlfriend while watching a movie, and the thought just pops into my head. The best, however, is when the ideas arrive collaboratively, when I'm throwing ideas out with my staff - ideas born collectively are THE BEST.

T1D: We all know you rep BK. For those around the country who haven't been to Brooklyn, and even we who have, what do you want us to learn or feel about Brooklyn when we drink a Sixpoint?

SW: Sixpoint is Brooklyn-centric by default; NOT by design. Its where we brew, where we are from, where we were born. I am going to try to distance myself from putting that presentation out there in future images/interfaces, etc. because now "Brooklyn" itself is being branded as some type of hipster hub by different publications. I have mixed feelings about that.

REPRESENTING Brooklyn is something different though...and we're proud to do that. We want to give Brooklyn a good name. The people here have been so generous and so supportive of our cause that we want to make them proud. I want people to taste a Sixpoint and say, "Wow. Amazing. That stuff is made in BROOKLYN? Man, I gotta go there!"

We're happy to do what we do in Brooklyn, but we're like a group of gypsies. If a flood or fire or warship of Vikings sacked the harbor of New York, my staff and I would set up shop in another like-minded community on this planet...or even another planet....to provide our fellow people with beer.

T1D: Part of my focus is beer's blossoming relationship with fine food. What kind of food, if any, do you have in mind when you are brewing?

SW: All food really - not just "fine food." Simple, organic vegetables are elegant things, both in design and in nuance. The same can be said for barley malt and hops. I've gotten to know these plants very well over the past 10 years and I'm blown away by how blessed we are as a species to have "co-created" these along with mother nature. With artificial selection over time, they are like finely tuned instruments, and we are musicians composing beautiful melodies.

T1D: Related to that, every Sixpoint is huge on flavor. Why the emphasis on big and bold?

SW: Here is my answer to that: I was at a beer tasting recently and we sampled a dozen or so beers among 15 people. At the end of the tasting, someone busted out a 110 year old bottle of Bass Ale (yes, the red triangle ubiquitous Bass Ale from England). We opened up the bottle and all had a sample, and it was pretty hoppy. As a matter of fact, it was hoppier than a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. This is incredible considering hop flavor in beer diminishes to almost nothing in about 10 years. Which leads me to believe that when this beer was fresh, it must have been a killer.

Therefore, you say our beers are all super bold and big on flavor, but in our eyes, we are just merely brewing the way it was done back in the day - when it was a CRAFT and not such an INDUSTRY. Our tastebuds for beer as Americans had been dumbed down so much by an oligarchy which controlled over 90% of the market until very recently. Now we bring it back to the way it was.

T1D: Another focus I have is entrepreneurship. What are some tips for home brewers looking to expand or small brewers looking to stay competitive?

SW: Three solid tips:

1) Always remember your roots
2) Stay relevant by having a constant, open dialogue with your customers
3) OVER-REACHING is the kiss of death. Be content with conservatism, even if it is not in your nature.

T1D: On your website you provide a comprehensive tour of your brewing process. Is this just something you prefer to do, or do you feel that this is necessary for the consumer?

SW: Well, what do you see when you visit most company's websites? Often it is a bunch of propaganda and reasons why the company is so great and has such a storied history and should be revered. What about the product? How many companies can intimately break down the details of their product in an engaging and informative manner? If people are buying your product, on some level they are endorsing your choices as a producer. Therefore, it is not necessary for the consumer to have this information, but it most certainly enhances the experience. I want our customers to know that we delve into the subtleties of the brewing process, and we are dedicated craftsmen. I also believe there is a core fraction of the populace that really gets off on this type of material, and we are happy to provide that to them.

T1D: Lastly, I don't want to cook the beef, but how do you get along with the folks over at Brooklyn Brewery?

SW: We get along fine, and I would like to continue to grow our relationship in the future. I have tremendous respect for Steve Hindy, Garret Oliver and the rest of the staff over there. They took big risks back in the day and overcame a lot of odds to pave the way for people like us. In that sense, we are standing on their shoulders in the crowd.

Garret is really one of my favorite persons. He has to EASILY be one of the most colorful characters in the brewing industry, and believe me, there are A LOT of dynamic and eccentric people in this industry! He has such passion and flair for what he does; it is practically infectious. And he is very generous with his time in educating others, and for these reasons and many others, I believe they are a blessed family over at Brooklyn Brewery.

Incoming!!!!

2009-11-11T12:18:00.000-05:00

Whaddup y'all? The real post for today is below this, but I just wanted to keep everyone tuned in because tomorrow will have an interview with the president and brewmaster (!) of beloved BK brewery Sixpoint and it is fantastic. Also, I have procured tix to the Great International Beer Expo this Saturday (drinking starts at something like 12:30 PM), and I will have pictures, reviews, and whatever else I encounter posted next week. Thanks!

Me and Friends and Food and Beer

2009-11-11T11:31:00.000-05:00

With my new job schedule, hanging out with friends has become difficult. This is what happens when you only have Monday and Tuesday nights free. Thankfully, my girlfriend and I hooked up a night out with a couple friends who live in our area (Astoria bitches), and we decided to go to one of the more "popular" locations in our neighborhood. Of course, I'm in NYC, so "popular" generally means "overrun with hipsters and generally unlikable people". In this case, it wasn't so bad. We rolled to the Bohemian Hall, or "the beer garden" as it is known. It's NYC's only real, legitimate German beer garden, and while that is great for them, that means that when summer pops up, the place is swarmed with drunken hipsters at all hours. But it's cold now, so when we peaked our adorable little faces in at 7 PM, the place was stark-nasty empty.

I won't get into a full-on restaurant review, but suffice it to say the waitress was awful. She was pregnant too, which makes me think her child will also be a horrible waitress. The night was a blast and it really encompassed why I love beer: had we been drinking, say, wine with our meals, we wouldn't have started "speaking loudly" about private details of our respective relationships when people finally started trickling in. And then what would the night have been? 2 hours of discussing grape varietals and . . . I don't know . . . Chaupin? We would have been ~~classy~~ boring and ~~educated~~ pretentious.

Despite the service and its possible effects on future progeny, once the food and beer started coming in, I got to really wallow in some fantastic pairings, totally going off my gut as far as the lineup was concerned. Some succeeded, some didn't, but each offered insights into the flavorful nooks and crannies of each item. And that's what experimenting with beer pairing is all about. You aren't always going to hit a home run, but every once in a while you find something so great, it is almost easier to write about feelings than taste. Don't be afraid to pair beer, and in fact, pairing beer is going to be a focus of this blog henceforth. That's right. Henceforth.

I started with a Sixpoint Brownstone before the food came. I love this beer and was so happy to find it. Despite being brewed in the BK, you don't see it as often as you would think around here. Brownstone is a brown ale, medium in color but heavy on roastiness. It has a strong dark malt roast up front and the hoppiness is strong for a brown ale, though it balances well. It finishes rich and robust with some rye. Pure genius really. The finish is the absolute perfect midpoint between the roast and the hops which unifies them brilliantly. It doesn't have a ton of notes, but what it lacks in levels, it makes up for in precision and power. Sixpoint isn't half-steppin', and their beers are uniformly bold in flavor.

Once food showed up, the onion-y, marinated knockwurst took a hint of the bitterness out of the Brownstone, while a rich, spiced beef stroganoff brought up some chocolate notes. On the downside (even though I knew it would happen), the Brownstone totally decimated a poor potato pierogie.

With the Brownstone killed, we cleansed our palates and moved on to the always reliable Franziskaner Weisse. This beer is German as shit, and so started opening up really exciting flavors. Sans food, Franziskaner packs serious spiciness with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg (good call Caity and Adriana), while I've always gotten brisk mustard tones. The wheat is ever-present without being overwhelming, and it brings a hearty body that is still somehow a bit refreshing. It is a great wheat beer for the season (as opposed to lighter summer wheats) and a cold night filled with German food made Franziskaner a sure-fire hit.

The mustard tones gave me a hunch that Franziskaner would kill with the knockwurst, and so it did. It made a hot dog with onions and mustard, bun included. It brought up memories of fall baseball when I was a kid, and hopes of ballparks future. When the beer followed a few bites of pierogie, a rich breadiness emerged, though some of the beer's spice was dulled. The beer matched up well with red cabbage and a drop of sour cream, as well as some stray onions here and there. It's underlying sweetness countered those well, letting the soft spice stand out.

The beef stroganoff still needed a suitable partner. A black lager from the Czech Republic, Krusovice Dark is heavily malty, almost syrupy sweet. It has coffee aromas but little coffee flavor. Chocolate and caramel are right there, and the mouthfeel borders on downright sticky. This beer is no good. But it managed to be a success because of the beef stroganoff. Paired with this (wonderful) beef, a sip of Krusovice turned into what essentially tasted like slightly thick root beer. The sweetness of the beer was refined after a few bites of beef and gravy, and the unpleasant hints of charcoal were rendered non-existent. When the light bulb went off that we had stumbled on a way to make this beer palatable, everyone was convinced of the power a decent pairing can have.

What is so great is that beer can make even one-dimesional food better. Thankfully, we didn't have to deal with that. We did have to deal with the opposite however: lousy beer. As you read, a good pairing can even drag the lousiest Czech swill out of the gutter and "My Fair Lady" it into something respectable. That's the magic of a solid beer pairing: bad becomes good, good becomes great, and great becomes a flood of flavors, memories, and feelings. We laughed, we ate, we drank, we got closer.

That > wine.

Peak Organic: This Is What's Known as a "Microcosm"

2009-11-10T10:37:00.000-05:00

Oh Fox News. How can I best enumerate the ways in which you manipulate the public? That doesn't even count Fox Business, the network that employs both Don Imus and JBL. But every once in a while, I suppose they can be good for something. Recently, Fox Small Business published a mildly well-written article about Peak Organic Beer. They are a company I am pretty fascinated with for a couple of reasons. Though I wouldn't rank their beers among my favorites, I would count myself a fan of their company. They embody a lot of what makes craft beer today great, from mold-breaking to entrepreneurship to a focus on quality above massive sales figures.

Let's be very clear: the current craft beer market is a reaction, by both brewer and drinker, to the low-quality, high-volume corporate beer juggernaut. More importantly, craft brewers and consumers have a chicken-and-the-egg relationship: the first wave of craft brewers were themselves disgruntled beer lovers. They knew that if they weren't satisfied by the market, other people must not be either. Granted, they have the smarts and business sense to launch a brewery, market it, and lead it to success, but they come from the same place as everyone who goes out searching for a glass or bottle of something new each time they peruse their local beer selection. So whether the market exists because of demand, or whether the demand exists because of the market is both unanswerable and irrelevant. They want a diverse marketplace, they encourage success across all breweries as opposed to viewing it as a competition, and demand the same quality from the beers they make as they would of a beer they drank with dinner.

This is quite the anomaly. Most large companies have nothing like this going on. They want to dominate the market and drive ingredient and product quality down as far as is acceptable to consumers. If customers wouldn't be outraged by eating zebra tumors and they drove product consistency up, you can bet they will find their way into your Kraft Mac & Cheese. Moreover, they want to have all the zebra tumors to themselves so that if your kids are eating zebra tumors, you will know they have been proudly grown, harvested, and served to you by Phillip Morris.

Now, there are no craft breweries the size of Phillip Morris. But the analogy stands. One thing that is so heartening about drinking craft beers (particularly for someone with the leftist leaning I have) is that, aside from the above corporate goodness, the ingredients are both high quality and traceable, labor complaints are virtually non-existent, and people seem to be embodying a sort of responsible capitalism where everyone gets paid without exploitation at any level on the supply chain. Are the people harvesting hops in mansions? No, but they aren't slaves either. Often ingredients are organic and/or local, making the purchase of some of this beer downright miraculous for local economies and ecosystems. Tell some spot in Iowa that they could grow profitable crops while employing responsible labor and sustaining the land, and I bet Iowa would be covered in hops the next month. Unfortunately, Iowa (or Washington state or anywhere really) doesn't need to be covered in hops because there isn't nearly as much demand for hops or barley as there is for corn, let's say. The big companies want corporate farms and the small companies just don't need that much.

On a purely hedonistic level, Peak's beers are not spectacular. In fact, most organic beers aren't. Samuel Smith does some pretty great stuff and Wolaver's is good sometimes, but other than that, is there a truly awesome organic beer? If there is, I've never seen, heard, or read about it. But Peak is good and the step of organic beers jumping up to "good" is a huge one. Why organic beers are rarely if ever spectacular is still a mystery to me. I mean, eat a salad, then eat an organic salad, and you know which is better. (If anyone has ideas, I welcome the new info.) But they are progressing, and Peak's success shows that if a good organic beer can thrive, a great organic beer could make the craft beer market explode.

A good representation of the quality of beer and slow food in today's market . . .

. . . versus thirty years ago.

What is so funny to me about all of this is that I am a total organic junkie. I eat organic whenever possible. Beer is the only product where, if I see it is organic, I will probably not buy it. If I'm going to drop $11 on a six pack, it better destroy. These beers rarely do that, and so if it comes to "all-natural and fantastic" or "organic and okay", I don't play; the beer needs to deliver. The major craft brewers are responsible and demanding enough with their ingredients that I don't NEED organic beer. I buy organic spinach because who knows where that other spinach comes from or what they doused it with. But when my bottle says "Washington state hops and two-row barley from such and such", I consider that pretty transparent. Further research only turns up decent labor practices from all of these companies.

Here is where Peak comes in. Their entire story, from beginning to current success, seems to mirror the craft brewing industry in America right now. They started ten years ago, before there was a sizable market for either organic food OR craft beer. Financially, each of those markets was in its infancy. Craft beer itself started as a purely niche market: a few rebellious minds making beer that they wanted to drink, and assuming other people would come along for the ride. So both Peak and the industry which holds it sprang up in a climate that seemed to offer little hope for success and almost no blueprint thereof.

One of Peak's other claims to fame is its packaging (a focus of the article), which depicts thoughts and pictures sent in by fans. The pictures aren't of hot women or keg stands, but of dudes walking through farmland or a SUN SETTING for god's sake. This isn't exactly attention-grabbing at first glance, but it IS phenomenal branding. Next to the Tecate girls or Bud Ultra Dry Hot Chick on Draught concoctions, a simple sunset can stick out and be downright refreshing. Peak presents itself as an alternative, and the packaging lets you know their priorities right off the bat. Craft beer as a whole seems to bring this to the table: rudimentary graphic design, minimal labeling (see Dogfish Head, for serious), outright profanity. Even when a craft beer label is going for some sort of manly sight-gag, it still offers the populist bent that penetrates the craft beer market. Read a brewery's mission statement, and this will only become more clear. And what could be more populist than encouraging people to record their thoughts and surroundings, then using them on the front of a sixer?

Financially, this is a no-brainer. While the beer market as a whole has fallen off around the world, the Brewer's Association reports that craft beer sales grew 5.9% by volume and 10% in dollars in 2008. Organic beer as a whole is up 21% and according to Peak, their sales are up (wait for it . . . ) 72 effing percent this year. (Editor's note: that is ridiculous.) Keep in mind, this is for a beer that is only decent relative to the marketplace. This shows incredible demand for a product that no one necessarily thought would or could succeed.

Craft beer's arrival in the mainstream has been aided by the fact that serious foodies (chefs, critics, me) have started to take it seriously. Craft beer has found a natural friend (sigh for the pun) in local and organic food. The slow food movement and craft beer not only go well together in ethos, but they go well together on table and on tongue. Peak doesn't just parallel this; Peak is this. An organic craft beer? That has "heart-warming underdog story" written all over it, as does this blog now.

In creating success as an industry, craft brewers have broken the corportate mold. You see "rival" brewers not only fraternizing but openly gushing about each other's beer. Their production methods are responsible. They assume the customer is intelligent. They focus on quality waaaayyyy over quantity (try to find certain seasonal craft beers sometime and you will see what I mean). All of these, anathema to most large corporations, not only work, they are almost entirely responsible for the industry's success. All of this is embodied in Peak, and the fact that we can sit back and watch so many companies (underdogs at the very core of their business) succeed is pretty encouraging. Who would have thought that we would be talking about such small companies with such importance or that, in America, the land of instant gratification and dubious labor standards, we would be talking about the cultural relevance of an organic beer made from the farms of Maine? Craft beer, and the many smaller, principled brands that make it up. inching into the mainstream has made it so. It just goes to show you: sometimes a little craft goes a long way.

1,2 . . . Many: Bad Beer Makes You Do Bad Things

2009-11-06T10:55:00.000-05:00

Last Friday, I presented the first "1, 2 . . . Many", a feature devoted to sending you into the weekend absolutely petrified to have even a sip of Zima. No, no. The real goal is to show the downside of drinking too much so that the next time you walk into a bar, you might slow down, take a breath, and forego the 14 Budweisers in favor of something flavorful and possibly even . . . dare we say it? Complex. Maybe, just maybe, you'll even pair a beer with your meal. But all of this is impossible if the goal is to get so toasted that you don't even plan on keeping the beer down. On second thought, if you are planning on vomiting, don't waste something nice. Especially not a seasonal. I mean, they only brew so much.

Anyway, with that in mind, I present to you some news stories from around the world (and by that I mean the neighboring states of Pennsylvania and Ohio) that should bring this into a sharp and vivid reality. Deal with it.

This wouldn't happen if we just outlawed PBR already: According to The Morning Call, one Mr. Barrington Wordsworth III was charged in the theft of some rather rare champagne as it was being delivered to a specialty grocer in Pennsylvania . . . . No I'm just kidding. John Higginbotham stole his neighbor's fucking PBR. But the Pennsylvania part was true. Apparently, this debonair chap got home from finishing school with quite a thirst. So he went to his neighbor and asked for a beer, and was indeed given a PBR. Then he came back and was greeted with (this time) multiple PBRs. Well he still was not quenched and went over again. This time, his neighbor wasn't home, so dude BROKE IN and took seven of our man's PBR. Apparently, they found six cans of PBR is Higginbotham's garage, which makes me think he might be trying to smuggle one to Mexico.

There is no lead-in that does this justice: What is it about beer that makes crime surrounding it so damn classy? In Ohio on Halloween, a man was pulled over for driving the wrong way sans headlights down a one-way street. Hmm, safe. They stop the fellow, a James Miller, and find beer in the front seat, back seat and trunk. Then they have him step out of the car to take the Breathalyzer test and find that he is costumed for Halloween. As a Breathalyzer.

I would like to thank the AP for posting this picture in as many outlets as they could possibly find. Seriously, the day after Halloween, if you googled "Wiggles lyrics", this picture would have come up. I know. I tried. I would also like to point out that on his costume, it says "Blow here" right where one might blow to take such a test, which happens to be around his penis. Nice one man. Let's high five about it. What is most amazing is that he dressed up as the very vehicle of his destruction. Maybe he was making a comment about the restrictive nature of our drinking laws actually encouraging underage and abusive drinking. Yeah, or maybe he just won a bet with his GED class.

Have a good weekend everybody. For those of you who don't know, I update at least once almost every weekday. Next week I have some pretty incredible stuff, and some winter seasonal reviews will be going up very soon. This has been a joy to write so far and I'm just getting started. Thanks so much.

Alehouse Heroes: Hopleaf - Chicago, IL

2009-11-05T10:39:00.000-05:00

Last Thursday I debuted Alehouse Heroes, a recurring feature in which I am lucky enough to interview various beer luminaries from around the country. Last week was Charles Whedbee from the Uber Tavern in Seattle. This week I am honored to bring you Mr. Michael Roper from Chicago's esteemed Hopleaf. They are rocking over twenty taps and countless bottles, as well as gushing - let me repeat - gushing reviews from their regulars on the intahnets. One guy even writes that the place is a shithole solely to dissuade hipsters from ruining it. To this man I say, "Keep up the good fight". Hopefully I won't contribute to any hipster-related crushing of the Hopleaf spirit. God knows they ruined the East Village. Anywho, Mr. Roper was gracious enough not only to be interviewed but to bring the hardcore answers. We get into beer's relation with slow food, what makes a successful craft bar, and why Chicago is a step above when you want a local hangout. Over the course of these topics, Mr. Roper answers thoughtfully and genuinely. His passion, eloquence, and joy over his job is positively humbling. He is also emblematic in a way of the current climate in craft beer: he doesn't see the explosion as some sort of competition. He seems ecstatic about the many beer bars springing up around him and wants everyone to succeed. I knew this was true for many brewers, but to see it run all the way into the tavern . . . well let's just say it is easy to love. Anyone who wants to know why craft beer is exploding, it is because of people like Michael Roper. To Mr. Roper, thanks so much. To everyone else I interview, you're on notice: the bar has been set. Don't bring no junk to my blog. We're for serious.

T1D: Everyone seems to have a vivid moment where their passion for beer came into focus. What was yours?
MR: I think that most of the cathartic moments that have ignited my passion for beer have involved meeting the brewers, the family brewery owners and visiting their breweries. The time that I spent with Armand Debelder at Drie Fonteinen or the afternoon where I met Marc Rosier at Brasserie Dupont in the tiny agricultural village of Tourpes or my first visit to Anchor Brewery in San Francisco are among the many special opportunities that I have had to connect to the source of great beer. For me, it is the people and the stories that make beer more than just wholesome and delicious. The passion of the people is infectious and within the walls of the breweries you can see the magic. The smells, the clean, shiny steel and copper, and the pride of the brewers in their product makes drinking the beer and serving it to my customers special. Sometimes they come to me also and I share the pride that I take in serving their beer in my tavern.

T1D: Do you have a favorite beer? If so, what is it and why?
MR: This is the question asked of me most often(ed. note: yeah . . . sorry). Every day and perhaps at different times of the day, I would choose a different beer as my favorite. My mood, what I am eating or have eaten, my company or how early or late in the day it is will inform my choice. Do I have beers that I return to again and again? Of course. Are there beers that I never drink? Certainly. Today, perhaps I might have a Prima Pils with lunch, a St. Ambroise Stout coming in from a brisk walk, a Pere Jacques with my dinner, an Orval with some cheese, and a couple of Pride and Joys over some friendly conversation. The next day it might be a whole new cast. Probably, as a matter of fact. Often wine sneaks in too. Like food, music, travel and company, I choose a variety in beer.

T1D: Beer can often take me to a particular place, and I have friends who say it can evoke memories for them. Do you have any sort of response like that to a really good beer?
MR: A ball game, a fishing trip, sitting by the campfire, those intense bar room conversations with buddies, the impossible ball that made the corner pocket and the aforementioned visits to those special brewing rooms are among the places and memories tied to the taste of beer. Some of the best live music that I have seen has been in bars and it always seems right to have a few beers during the show.

T1D: Why sell beer above other things?
MR: The world of beer and the variety of aromas and flavors is huge. I like to offer as much of the best of these sensations as I can in the right atmosphere, in the proper glassware and with ideal accompanying foods. It is my mission. I have a great passion for food and wine also and they find a good home at Hopleaf too. I have never been one to say beer or wine, I say beer and wine. I often enjoy both accompanying a single meal. It happens though, that Hopleaf is beer centered because my passion for beer, the craft beer revolution and the birth and growth of Hopleaf were concurrent. I had hoped when conceptualizing the Hopleaf that there would be an audience for a bar that would only carry better beers, forsaking the mass market low-flavor brews entirely. To my delight, my timing was right, my passion was shared by others and Hopleaf was a hit from the start. It was great beer that brought them in and kept them coming. Still does. (ed. note: boo-yah.)

T1D: What do you look for in a beer for your menu? Do you have a pairing in mind, or do you sort discover those as they sell?
MR: First of all a beer has to show me something special. For some styles that is harder than others. There are hundreds of IPA style beers out there, so one has to have a pleasing and unique take on the style to make our menu. If two beers have similar attributes, the one with the cool history, the unique location, the clever, interesting owner or one with a local connection will tend to win a spot at Hopleaf. We know that there are breweries and beers that make great beer that are not always or ever represented at Hopleaf. There are too many and space is finite. I also think that there is a finite number of beers that can be properly presented and rotated in a fine beer bar. Choices have to be made. The menu should reflect the buyer's tastes and his or her perception of the tastes of the clientele. I don't like bars that have 200 beers on tap or a thousand beers in bottles. That is the sign that the buyer is just saying "give me everything". I like to change the draft menu with the seasons also. Imperial stouts in August? No thanks. As for pairings, that happens after the beer has entered the house.

T1D: Sticking with your menu, you serve things like "French breakfast radishes" and organic brisket. Part of my focus on this site is how beer is suddenly emerging as a mainstream ingredient and pairing with food. Why do you think this is happening now?
MR: In places like Belgium, Holland, Germany, The UK and Ireland the pairing of food and beer is ancient. These are places where few or no grapes grow. What they had to cook with and to accompany food was beer. Of course wine from the south is now available everywhere and for the past couple hundred years it swept beer away as the preferred sophisticated foil for food. However, wine's roots in Europe were equally humble. Beer and wine are both agricultural products that were drunk, often out of necessity by the common peasantry. Wine became the snob's choice through no fault of it's own and its price went up accordingly. More gourmet snob appeal followed.
Beer came back as a gourmet's choice when the beer available to us got better. It has only been 25 years since all that was on our shelves were choices like Pabst, Schlitz, Miller, Bud, Rolling Rock and the like. No wonder chefs and gourmets did not think much of beer. Better food is available to the masses now too. Compare the cheese, bread, fish or beer section of many stores today with those of 1965 and you will see the progress in our palates. Naturally, when chefs and diners have all these wonderful beers at their disposal, those beers are going to find their way onto menus, into kitchens and onto dining room tables. With the universal availability of full flavor beers, now is the time for beer to join wine as an equal partner with food. Hopleaf jumped on this early and everyone else is joining in. It is a good thing for everyone.

T1D: Chicago has a rep as a "beer town". It stayed brewing during Prohibition to some extent, so it didn't have that purge of brewing most of the country had. But, overall, why do you think that reputation has endured?
MR: Chicago was a working man's town with lots of blue collar jobs. In the densely populated city neighborhoods, the corner tavern was and is a fixture. In those taverns the drink of choice has always been beer. While actual brewing faded in Chicago for decades, beer drinking in neighborhood taverns did not. That is how Chicago kept its "beer town" reputation. Today most of the heavy industry is gone and Chicago's jobs tend to be in the service and technology sectors but brewing is back in Chicago and there is a revival and reinvention of the neighborhood tavern. Goose Island, Half Acre, Piece, Metropolitan and nearby Two Brothers, Three Floyds and others are pouring from taps all over town. Bars that specialize in British, German, Belgian, American craft, or feature "real ale" firkin taps are popping up everywhere. There has never been a better time to be a beer drinker in Chicago. In dozens of neighborhoods, great beer destinations are a short walk away and when drinking, that is a good thing!

T1D: I must confess I don't have much familiarity with the Chicago beer scene. What is the local scene like? Any emerging trends?
MR: For years the Daley administration was not very friendly to neighborhood taverns and breweries and kept a lid on the growth of our beer scene. The Real Ale Festival, in spite of it's success, was given the cold shoulder by the city and driven out of town. Winds of change have blown in and new city liquor commissioners seem to have woken up to the economic, touristic, cultural and neighborhood stabilizing attributes that a thriving beer scene brings to Chicago. Not to mention tax revenue. In the past 5 or 6 years the number of bars with smart beer selections, beer centric chefs and food menus, and neighborhood breweries has exploded and it is not over yet. Being a real city, a car is not necessary to explore many beer destinations and you can seek them out on foot, public transport or in a taxi, always a better bet when drinking. I would not be exaggerating to say that there are hundreds of places where you will find better beer, wonderful food and company in Chicago.

T1D: Lastly, I read that your bar doesn't have a television (which I love). What's the key to keeping a good vibe in the place sans sports and news?
MR: I have always hated TV in bars and restaurants. TV is what you do when you are at home and not in the social realm. Hopleaf is about good beer, wine, food and conversation. No distractions. Music is always below the level of conversation. People need to find places without the multi screen bombardment. When couples go out together they should look at each other, not the TV. Sports on multiple screens, news, game shows or sitcoms are atmosphere killers. They automatically draw your eyes away from your friends, your plate and the human scene. It seems like the majority of bars are "sports bars". People who must watch the game will have no problem finding a place to do so. In fact there are only 3 or 4 tavern licensed places in Metropolitan Chicago that do not have TV. We offer a civilized refuge from electronic over stimulation. When the Cubs are in post season or the Bears or Bulls are winning, does it hurt us some nights? Absolutely. Do people call and ask if we have the game on? Yes. However, many more thank us year around for not having it, so we will tough out those rare dead nights like Superbowl Sunday or a Cubs playoff series. As for news, we have shelves full of current periodicals and todays paper on hand every day. I actually believe that it is impossible to have a "good vibe" when TV's are present in bars and restaurants.

If you don't know, now you know. As though it couldn't get any better, next week's interview is a BEAST: Shane Welch, president and brewmaster of Brooklyn's phenomenal Sixpoint Brewery in a fantastic interview. I'm a lucky man. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned.

Pumpkin Ale: West Coast Redemption

2009-11-04T10:50:00.000-05:00

If you recall, last Thursday I posted a double review praising the mighty Dogfish Head Midas Touch and . . . um . . . well let us not discuss the rest. I'm going to go ahead and do that one more time. While last week had no particular theme other than "Beers Caity and I Drank That One Day", this week, I'm going to big up Halloween and, perhaps more importantly, big up the West Coast, who might have caught a stray shot lost week when really, Lagunitas Little Sumpin' Extra (just the beer, not the brewery) was the target. Let me just get this out of the way now: the lefter coast is THE brewing capitol of the world right now. The northeast has tradition on their side, but the West Coast has their own incredible native hops and some of the most rebellious, creative minds in beer on their side. They crush it. That's that. So, I decided to contrast two pumpkin ales I've been drinking lately, and though they are going to be tough to come by post-October, it is key to know your pumpkin ales. The variations are mostly subtle in pumpkin ales, but they really make or break the beer.

In the last review I mentioned this beer: Elysian Night Owl Pumpkin Ale. Read it, learn it, know it. Elysian is based in Seattle, and though I've only had a few of their beers, I think it is safe to say they are fantastic. We serve this beer seasonally at work and the employees, customers, and I all go absolutely apeshit for it. I always describe this beer to customers as "exactly like a pumpkin pie" so it was quite heartening when I went to the official page yesterday and saw the brewery describe it as "like pumpkin pie, with a rich smoothness". Honestly, it tastes just like a fantastic pumpkin pie. The look is a deep copper-orange. A hint of that orange makes it into the head, which generally comes up pretty minimally. Once in a while our taps would pour it with a slightly deeper head, but even then it was pretty flimsy in density. Their website also says they are rocking a 1.060 gravity, which is pretty hearty and it makes sense: the mouthfeel is rich and coats every corner. Of course, pumpkin prevails taste-wise, but what really makes the beer great is the sweet maltiness, bolstered by robust notes of clove, cinnamon, and nutmeg. The spices are absolutely spot-on. The very slight hop bitterness at the front of the tongue make the whole sweet palate explode in a perfect seasonal frenzy. Possibly the best part? It packs 6.1% ABV, but you most certainly wouldn't know it. This is a rich, wonderful beer which manages to be malty-sweet while also bringing a spiced-up savoriness to the table. Despite being an autumn ale, I found it more complex and enjoyable at around 45 degrees than 50-55. It might sound simple, but a handful of walnuts goes brilliantly with this beer. Want to get a little more complicated? Pair it with some sweet barbecue for dinner. Needless to say it makes a fantastic desert beer by itself or paired with a slice of cheesecake or pecan pie. Steer clear of red meat in your pairing for sure. I arrogantly tried it with a smoky, grilled burger and it was a thorough fail on my part.

On the other hand, we have Southampton's Pumpkin Ale. Southampton Publick House in upstate NY is pretty legendary. They make good beers most of the time, though in my opinion they are rarely exceptional. However, they had the upperhand going in: personally, I'm a SUCKER for the old-fashioned Northeastern autumn and winter. As soon as October rolls up, all I want to do is drink warm cider and wear Cosby sweaters. Shouldn't Southampton be able to rock this and bring the dream pumpkin ale? If you were to put a pint of this next to a pint of the Elysian, you could see the difference in flavor. My pint was marvelously clear, but also sadly light and washed-out in color. The scent is lovely, featuring the usual pumpkin ale suspects, but also presenting a nice maple syrup tone. The head poured richly, much moreso than the Elysian, though the depth and darkness in Elysian is worth the loss of head. The nice head on Southampton does take out a notch of the bitterness, which it has too much of as the head fades out. The spices are overwhelmed by an odd tang and bitterness which I can't quite put my finger on. This is alleviated somewhat by the subtle vanilla notes at the end of the sip. The aftertaste is straight pumpkin however, and this lack of dimension makes it ultimately easy to walk away from after the first pint.

I heart pumpkin ales and it is going to be sad to see them go once again. If you can still find any, I highly advocate grabbing some, though in my experience some people just flat-out dislike them. If your local place has any left over, Weyerbacher makes a fantastic pumpkin ale and the psychos at Southern Tier have their Pumking which pushes the ABV to a whopping 7.9%. In small doses, it is pretty great. Stocking up on some of these for Thanksgiving is certainly not a bad idea, so if you can , snatch them up and age them for a month. Otherwise, do like me and bide your time until next year, when I will await the Great Pumpkin's return. Then I will crack him open and use his delicious innards for beer. Cheers!

Breaking News: Old Speckled Hen Sucks

2009-11-03T11:30:00.000-05:00

Have you ever been in a bar and thought, "I can't decide whether I want a nice, smooth Guinness or some malt liquor"? Well, Old Speckled Hen makes that question irrelevant. Why not have both? OSH places the creamy head of a Guinness on top of the desperation and bathtub residue of, say, Phatboy(please click this), and they've been doing it that way for 30 years. How have they survived? Apparently, British people drink this. I spent five months in England and I can honestly say I learned nothing about their national psyche that would explain their enjoyment of this. In fact, many people like Old Speckled Hen. Why, I cannot say.

"But Beermaster," you say (don't lie, you call me that). "If it has been gross for 30 years, why is this news?"

Well, that part isn't. What is news is the particular way in which they currently suck. According to Gotham Imbiber, Greene King, the awful, awful people who own OSH are sending FAKE cask hand pumps to bars. These fake pumps actually hook up to regular kegs and make it appear as though you are getting a cask ale, when in fact you are getting regular-ass Old Speckled Hen. This might require some explanation.

My personal experience with cask ales is somewhat limited. Though they fell away for a while with all the brand consolidation and Metal Machine Breweries, the craft beer renaissance is bringing them back. In England, they are quite important and their being in jeopardy led a group of intrepid souls to start the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), a wonderful and passionate group devoted to the preservation of real cask ales. Cask/real ale is a beer that is fermented, then aged in a wooden cask, relying only on natural carbonation: no added nitrogen, no CO2. Then they are poured with a gravity tap or hand pump, NOT a pressurized gas line. They are rare, labor-intensive, and deliciously complex if you can find them.

Above, ingredients being delivered to the Old Speckled Hen Brewery.

The other key part of this is that Greene King has quite the reputation as . . . um, well a bunch of assholes. They like to buy local breweries, then dissolve the brands associated with them. Or, even better, they buy PUBS and shut out local beers, instead selling "guest beers" which is code for "their beers". So, in essence what Greene King is doing is pretending to uphold the very tradition they have helped destroy over the past couple decades. It is pretty sad. So, if you are in a bar and you see this fake hand pump, don't drink it. Don't drink Old Speckled Hen at all in fact. It's terrible. Besides, I bet Tilt Green is half the price.

Double Bastard Out Today!

2009-11-02T12:10:00.000-05:00

That's right. Stone Brewing Co.'s Double Bastard Ale gets released today. Clocking in at 10.5 !%!%!?% alcohol, it is a doozy. That symbol in the previous sentence is a new mathematical symbol which represents a complex algorithm of percentage and terror. If you have never had this beer, well, allow me to introduce you.

My experience with the Double Bastard came at the hands of my good friend Devin. He brought it to me for my birthday. At the same birthday, someone brought me "Il Bastardo" wine. Thanks guys . . . no, no don't sugar-coat it. Anyway, it sat in my fridge for a day or two. Then one afternoon my girlfriend and I both had the day off. We went to our favorite Japanese place (shout to Sakura on Ditmars) and, in the spirit of celebration, had a bit of sake. Being sake-drunk is like being wrapped up in a blanket by Jesus. You catch a dope buzz without all the headaches or dehydration. How is this possible? Only the ninja-angels who brew it can say for sure. I'm sorry. That was racist. I'm sure samurais brew it as well.

Things were going great until we got home, when my 22oz.-er of Double Bastard beckoned me. "Hey Allen," it said. "Having a good day?"

"Yeah absolutely," I replied.

"Well, I know you're feeling adventurous. Why not try me out?"

"Ehhh . . . I don't know. I'm on a sweet sake buzz right now."

"Who are you talking to honey?" my girlfriend called from the other room.

"If you rat me out I'll fucking kill you," the bottle said. Now, this should have tipped me off.

"Uh . . . no one," I said, pulling the bottle out, my shaking hands tentatively dispensing its contents into two glasses.

Twenty minutes later, we were nursing wounds on our heads from falling onto our coffee table. This beer is messed up.

For those of you not hip to the trends, one large facet of American craft brewing right now is a string of ultra-hoppy India Pale Ales (IPAs), double IPA's, Imperial IPA's, and just outright bitter brews. I am not one of those people who loves all these particular joints, but the sheer unbridled viciousness, the brutality of Double Bastard makes it at least worth trying. They seriously do not give an eff whether anyone likes this beer, and I respect that. Stone, if you don't know, is one of the premier craft brewers in America (check them out here). They make absolutely bold, brilliant beers. So (and this is the part that makes this beer so compelling for me) they could make a subtly hoppy, debonair sort of specialty brew. But they didn't. This beer isn't lacking craft nor is it based on any flawed premise; they wanted this beer to taste exactly like it does. Even though it isn't necessarily my cup of tea, it is the type of beer that is in a way emblematic of craft beers today: brash, uncompromising, and equally interested in boundary-pushing as it is with any sort of sensory pleasure. In as much as the exciting and full flavors of craft beer are a reaction to watery McBeer, this beer is a microcosm of the whole prevailing attitude: to move as far away from mass-produced beer in both taste and ingredient purity/quality as possible. It is a beer that exists as an antithesis to mass-marketed, corn-and-rice, easy-to-swallow beers. Is Double Bastard's huge, borderline uncomfortable flavor necessary to achieve this? Probably not. But is it appreciated? Always.

1, 2 . . . Many: Yuppie Destruction

2009-10-30T12:12:00.000-04:00

Behold! Another new feature on this here blog. Titled "1, 2 . . . Many", it will present real stories from my life, reader's lives, and the lives of those chronicled shirtlessly on COPS, to remind us all that while beer can be a delicious escape from whatever tragic shit you have going on in your life, the purpose of this blog is to encourage savoring. One too many (get it?) can lead to a seriously sad evening (or morning. Or wedding.) Please feel free to get in touch with me and share your stories. I am happy to keep you totally anonymous, although any of your friends who read it will immediately recognize the story. I mean, how many people have they had to bail out of a Sri Lankan prison? Yeah that's right. I know all about that.

As curator and de facto Master of Effin Ceremonies here, I should kick things off. One night some friends and I headed over to an Upper East Side sports bar we like. A girl I work with is from a sad and dismal state known as "Oklahoma" which I'm told is somewhere in the middle of the country, but I can't say for sure. The only thing I know about Oklahoma is that, despite having no people or buildings, they managed to field quite a good college football team from whatever lepers and man-beasts roam their blighted, rotting land. They were playing in the BCS Championship Game on this night against Florida, the place that has stepped up to graciously bury your grandparents. The game was going fine and, as the bar is cool and the game was huge, the place was bumpin'.

Now for future reference, I don't like yuppies. They fuck up everywhere they go and are currently in the process of ROYALLY fucking up New York. And let's be clear: a yuppie wearing a Grizzly Bear t-shirt is still a yuppie. But I digress. Just keep in mind the context of the night: big game, sports bar. Some yuppie dude rolls in with his trophy girlfriend. This guy has a soul patch. A fucking soul patch. Worse than that, he appears totally oblivious to the fact that sporting events even exist, let alone the fact that they are being celebrated vigorously before him; he just wants dinner.

Unsurprisingly, the waitress is SWAMPED. This guy cannot comprehend why, on national championship night at a well-known sports bar, his food is taking so long. So you know what this dink does? HE STARTS YELLING AT THE WAITRESS.

Above, yuppie herbs.

Naturally, the waitress says there isn't much she can do about the food taking a long time, it's a big game night, and she is doing the best she can. She goes to deal with another table while Fluster McEmbarassHisGirl huffs and puffs about service. We all go back to the game, snacking and drinking. A few minutes later, we hear a rustle and look over. The Yuppie has been grabbed by the collar and is being held in the tight Welsh death-grip of the owner.

"Say 'what' again!" the owner yells. "Say 'what' again!"

Yuppie guy, not unexpectedly, wusses out, assuming it is okay to hassle a young female waitress without accepting the vicious grown-man United Kingdom beatdown he has just earned.

"Hey man," he says like a wuss wussing out completely like a baby whining to his mommy while he wusses out. "I didn't do anything."

This didn't fly because, as it turns out, he had been giving the waitress grief all night and when Mr. Owner decided to confront him, he gave further sass-mouth. It is at this point that the owner exclaims, "You don't talk that way to my employees," pulls dude up, and drags/tackles him into the next room in a miasma of gasps and shattered glasses. The cat is dispatched and the owner returns. Where was his woman in all of this? Sitting across from him doing pretty much nothing while he got his business handed to him. Her expression went from mild concern during the confrontation to "Oh no not again" when the owner politely asked her to take her man's lame ass home. Turns out dude had some serious alcohol on his breath and it seems like he had put down quite a few even before rolling in.

It's all fun and games until a Welshman shoves your huge phone deep inside you.

When the owner returned he was greeted with applause and some good news: a few of LI's finest were in the house and said they would vouch for the owner if anything went down. Then, in what can only be described as sweet, delectable justice, the owner proceded to hand out free shots of Jack Daniels to the entire joint. Which we enjoyed responsibly before tipping our waitress.

Alehouse Heroes: Uber Tavern - Seattle, WA

2009-10-29T13:19:00.004-04:00

Welcome to Alehouse Heroes, soon to be a recurring feature on the site where we spotlight a bar, brewer, chef, or anyone who strikes me as particularly intriguing in the blossoming beer climate. We will provide some info, toss out some thoughts, and most importantly, interview some of the associated VIPs. Now, I'm not an interviewer by trade, so forgive me if this turns into some sort of beer-drenched "Chris Farley Show". "You 'member when . . . um . . . you made that brown ale . . . yeah . . . that was AWESOME." Our focus will be on the entrepreneurial side of running a beer business, as well as beer's burgeoning companionship with high-end food. I hope to shed some light on this magnificent culture by talking directly to the people making it happen, whether that be the brewpub in your neighborhood or the brewer 3,000 miles away. I can promise you we have some incredibly well-respected craft pubs, top-notch breweries, and maybe even a celebrity guest(!) lined up for the future. On a personal note, I'm geeking out.

We start with Seattle's small but mighty Uber Tavern. Boasting nearly twenty taps, somewhere in the neighborhood of 150 bottles, special ordered kegs to go, and (this is key) take-home, refillable-on-the-cheap growlers, Uber Tavern is a worthy watering hole for those eager to soak up the immensely active West Coast brewing scene. Most important though is the supportive and friendly regulars that will vouch for this place high and low across the interwebs. (As someone in the restaurant industry, I can personally attest for how wonderful you feel to have a group of people willing to publicly go to bat for you.) Uber Tavern's fantastic manager Mr. Charles Whedbee took some time from his busy schedule to answer a few questions about his bar, their friends, and a fantastic explanation for why it's so damn easy to grab a good beer on the left coast.

T1D: We'll start with the basics. What is your go-to beer/favorite beer, and why?

CW: I don't have a favorite beer. My moods and tastes are in a pretty constant state of flux. Sometimes I'll go nuts on Belgians, then stop drinking them for like a month. It all depends on what I've eaten, how much I'm willing to spend, what I can have and still drive home, and what I haven't tried yet. If I'm at a place with a limited selection, I'll probably pick any IPA they have on.

T1D: I live in NYC. Brooklyn is home to a million artists, and also seems to be the hub of craft beer in the city. Seattle and Portland also have huge artist communities, and they too are craft beer hubs. What's the connection between young artists and craft beer?

CW: There might be some connection through craftsmanship and a desire to buy locally, but I know a lot of artists who are on the constant search for that $1.00 PBR. (Editor's note: Yes.)

T1D: What is your method of choosing a beer for the bar?

CW: We are a small place, so choosing beers can be a challenge. For new beers in the market that I haven't tried I use Ratebeer and Beer Advocate and a lot of word-of-mouth. Some breweries have enough street cred that I'll buy anything they produce on faith. We have 17 taps here and space for about 150 bottles, so I can keep a steady stream of my and our customers' favorites around. Sadly, since most of the importers of craft European beers are based out of New York, some of our favorites have been priced too high for us, but we try to pour a few Belgians and German beers all the time here. I'm a big IPA fan, so I tend to go nuts on those.

T1D: You sell kegs. To me, in the restaurant industry, that sounds like more trouble than it's worth. How do you keep that aspect successful?

CW: You're kinda right, it's a cash flow nightmare. We stock very little, and special order a lot.

T1D: You have a real community around your place. Explain to us who haven't been there what the Uber Bike and Beer Bloodbath is.

CW: Regulars of ours (and other beer bars) do some Biking Pub Crawls. It's got our name on it, but it has grown into a Seattle-wide event.

T1D: Keeping with that feeling of community, one thing that's so exciting to me and many beer lovers is the West Coast's emergence as a craft-brewing mecca. Other than your proximity to wonderful hops, what's the deal?

CW: We all owe the West Coast pioneers of American craft brewing a huge debt for creating the infrastructure of the smaller brewery. Twenty years ago, state and local governments were caught completely by surprise when craft breweries stated started popping up. Building and construction permits simply had no model for approval. It was actually easier to open a 60-100 barrel brewery than it was a 7-10 barrel brewery. Throw in a thoroughly uncooperative ATF (which no longer exists) and a belief by government that any beer over 5%ABV was only consumed by homeless people or was a huge drunk driving risk, and you begin to wonder why more brew-pub owners aren't members of militias. By braving this red tape and establishing a market, the West Coast has helped pave the way toward acceptance and even promotion of craft beer all over the country. So I think the West Coast has a history with craft beer that's entrenched. These days, of course, there are great breweries and beer bars all over the country. I've heard nothing but great things about New York, New England, and the Midwest, and can't wait to visit there myself.

T1D: Other than the rotating menu, how do you keep a specialty place such as yours fresh and exciting?

CW: All we sell is beer, so the rotation is the most important thing. It's really up to the staff to create the atmosphere.

T1D: What is the key to keeping good vibes in the bar? How does it stay fun there?

CW: We try to be a "Yes" place. There are a lot of rules for bars and restaurants, and you have to say "no" to people a lot. Since we don't have a kitchen, we say "Yes, you can bring your own food" or "Yes, you can bring in your dog". It's certainly not "anything goes", but we try to let the customers kind of create the environment rather than force it on them.

I Have Purchased the Brooklyn Brewery

2009-10-29T11:36:00.001-04:00

Okay . . . well, not really. Since New York State just gave Brooklyn Brewery $800,000 to jumpstart their expansion and we have 19,000,000 residents, I own about 4 cents worth. But I'll tell ya, it feels good. From the NY Post (eww . . . ) and spotted at the great (they are being modest) A Good Beer Blog:

The state government last week awarded $800,000 to the Brooklyn Brewery to jump-start their $6.5 million expansion in Williamsburg. The company, along with its signature Brooklyn brands of ale, lager and beer, is converting 13,500 square feet of vacant distribution space into a beer fermentation facility, and increasing brewing capacity from 8,000 to 50,000 barrels per year. The plant is located at 79 North 11th Street. The grant came from a competitive process, yielding a total first-round $7.8 million that will eventually total $35 million to revitalize the downstate area, and grow the job and tax base.

I don't know exactly how I feel about this. I guess since I run a beer blog I should be psyched, but honestly, $800,000? NYC can barely pay for brakes on their trains. (Tuck and roll everyone.) Frankly, I think Brooklyn Brewery still owes me $9 from the Local 2 I had to choke down before I knew any better. Well, I guess technically they now only owe me $8.96. Bill's in the mail, fatcats!

REVIEW: East Coast 1, West Coast . . . -5,000,000

2009-10-28T11:24:00.001-04:00

Now look. I love West Coast brewing. Green Flash IPA is my jam, Stone Smoked Porter makes me want to listen to jazz music, and when we got Elysian Night Owl Pumpkin Ale at work, I literally drank it for breakfast. But Sunday, my girlfriend and I made a shopping trip in preparation for a day of football and a little beer sampling. We picked up a bunch of new beers and decided after a few snacks (and suitable palate-cleansing . . . calm down) to try a couple. What we were in for was quite the roller coaster.

So, yeah . . . Little Sumpin' Extra Ale is apparently brewed by California's Lagunitas Brewing. Now, I don't know how the people feel about them in Cali, but here they get some respect. I was psyched for this beer. It was a seasonal just about to head off the shelves, had the nice hearty alcohol content perfect for a crisp fall day, and an IBU level not so far through the roof that I got intimidated. For the newbies, IBU stands for International Bitterness Units and is exactly what it sounds like. They run from 0 for say, pure water to around 100 for say, hops sauteed with sour balls. 72 IBUs prepared me for decent hops, but didn't prepare me for ONLY hops, which is what this beer brings to the table. What is most unfortunate about that is, based on the aroma, Lagunitas got their hands on some pretty choice hops. We were so excited to lean in and catch a whiff of lemon meringue, grapefruit, and orange sherbet. A predominant citrus and cream scent. Just wonderful. However, the HUGE citrus-y hops absolutely overwhelm whatever else is in this beer, which for the life of me I couldn't tell you. It is lightly carbonated which is unsurprising given the gravity and alcohol content, and that could have aided in some smoothness. However, the bitter hops make this one of the most dimensionless beers I've ever had and I was forced to toss it into the pile of "I'm a macho American craft brewer so I have to pour hops all over you to prove how cool I am" beers. I have EATEN hops raw and this beer was almost as difficult to deal with. There is a twinge of an orange sweetness, almost orange zest, that had me seeking out extra levels, but there was little to be found.

Oh but there was more to the day. We soothed our screaming tongues with some honey wheat pretzels, chilled out, swished with some water, and moved to the next beer. The wonderful Tasting Beer by Randy Mosher mentioned this beer: Dogfish Head's Midas Touch. The backstory goes thusly: a bunch of people dig up the tomb of Midas and discover party favors from his funeral. One is a drinking goblet. They do analysis on the residue and discover saffron, honey, and grapes as part of an ancient fermented-drink recipe. To commemorate this, they have a party, commission Dogfish to make the beer for the party, and Sam Calagione whips up a beer with those ingredients in it. Does it taste like what Midas drank? Maybe not. Midas probably had virgins standing in his beer to steal their youth. But is this beer the BOMB? Yes. Yes it is.

One thing I hope to get at with this blog is the memories or feelings beer can bring up. This is a perfect beer for that kind of analysis. The pour is beautiful and it produces a nice head for packing 9% alcohol. The beer is medium golden. It is immediately tasty and warm on the tongue. The mouthfeel is light and reasonably carbonated, yet substantial. If that sounds difficult to comprehend, that's a testament to the complexity and balance of this beer. The grapes and honey are strongly present, but there are tones resembling sherry, melon, and even something in the neighborhood of cotton candy. The color and visuals compliment the sweetness perfectly. To compare it to a white wine is perfectly acceptable. But the main thing we got was memory. This beer took us back to family times. My girlfriend AND her sister both swore it reminded them of their Bubby, and we all agreed that it would be the perfect accompaniment for a Passover dinner. A piece of matzoh with some butter and swiss cheese from my childhood would be a devilishly simple and wonderfully appropriate pairing. I will say I picked up a bit of sharpness and tang, but I am senstive to that and my girlfriend who loves tangy foods didn't get it nearly as much as I did, so factor this into the tasting.

If you are somewhere without Dogfish Head, your life is poorer for it. It is just this kind of beer, simple ingredients taking you to a family dinner, inspiring not only great sensations but plans for future togetherness, that reminds me of everything great to taste in the world.

Rock Art vs. Corporate Assholes: Settled!

2009-10-26T23:01:00.001-04:00

I thought I would dispatch our first OFFICIAL post with something uplifting. Yeah, I know, this happened a week ago, but still. How often do we get to bask in something like this? For those unaware, here is the backstory.

Rock Art is a Vermont-based brewery, who makes a barleywine called the Vermonster. It comes in a 22 oz. bottle and is 10% alcohol. Hansen Beverages is a California-based beverage maker who seems to specialize in natural juices, but also puts out Monster Energy Drink which comes in a big roided-up can perfect for crushing against one's head to prove you are the dominant male of the herd.

Hansen Beverages, in an effort to jockey for America's Worst Legal Department, sent tiny Rock Art Brewery a cease-and-desist saying they were infringing on the Monster name, and that Rock Art's Vermonster could cause brand confusion. Just so you know, anyone who has ever drank 22 oz. of barleywine can tell you that it is anything but an energy drink. Also, Vermonster is made with hops and malt, while Monster is made by filling a can with the tears of orphans and abused women.

Thankfully there is a happy ending. After the internet caught wind of this, shit went crazy and Hansen was inundated with calls from Rock Art fans, beer lovers, and people who just plain like justice. Stores in New England even yanked Monster from their shelves. Hansen Beverages caved and dropped their adorable little lawsuit-y thing, although in a brilliant display of face-saving negotiation, they made Rock Art, a BREWERY, promise not to sell ENERGY DRINKS. I think that went something like this:

Hansen Beverages Lawyer: Hey . . . um, so . . . what's up?
Rock Art: Don't play dumb. You're getting crushed.
Hansen: Your face is getting crushed.
Rock Art: What?
Hansen: Okay look . . . can we have $10,000?
Rock Art: No, you lost.
Hansen: $50 and we call it a day.
...
Fine, just promise not to sell energy drinks, okay?

Then the lawyer shed a single tear, and drowned his sorrows in the Vermonster Sundae at Ben & Jerry's. Check the video out below, and if you can find it, snag a bottle of some fine Rock Art product. Word to the little guy.

Our First Post: Ingenuity and Ingredients

2009-10-25T00:05:00.000-04:00

My name is Allen Arthur. I'm a restaurant manager in NYC who loves food, my girlfriend, and beer.

That's right. Beer. I love beer.

The problem with that statement is twofold.

The first problem is "love". The second problem is "beer".

When people hear you say that you "love" beer, they make assumptions. Are you a frat guy? Are you an alcoholic? Have you ever met another person? I can, after much soul-searching, assure you: No, no, and yes. . . several. Also, apparently the line between booze connoisseur and "guy who drinks moonshine with threadbare mittens around an oildrum fire" is even thinner than normal when it comes to beer. People just seem to think you must not KNOW any better. That reveals our archaic notions not just of beer, but of alcohol in general. We are still a conservative nation in many ways, and in few places is this more prevalent than with drinking. You can see it in our spirits laws, our minimum age, our depiction of drinking on TV and in films. Drinking is for partying or the easing of demons.

Tragically, this comes not only from the usual morality patrol, but from the industry as well. Parent/conservative groups seem to believe we are all alcoholics lying in wait, untrustworthy to moderate our own habits. Even worse is Big Booze. These companies insist on shilling the belief that alcohol somehow leads to having tons of friends and beautiful women. They make men look like doofuses and women like objects who for some reason love doofuses.

So it is easy for me to forgive friends and acquaintances when they don't quite get my beer hobby. Why WOULDN'T they think it all tastes like ~~swill~~ Budweiser? Why wouldn't they think I'm chasing what is sold in the commercials? So, for all us heads, we have to explain. Somewhere there is a brewery, there are HUNDREDS of breweries and more every day, where an artist sits and carefully calibrates a recipe that will take you back to Thanksgiving dinner, or guide you on a late-night walk through the woods through ingenuity and ingredients alone. The craft beer explosion in America is no fluke. People are upset that the thing they love has so many awful connotations around it and with each barrel shipped are hoping to rebelliously change people's minds.

Thankfully, it seems to be working. Breweries and craft beers are finally being held to intense quality standards not just by themselves but by ever more discerning and educated consumers. World-class chefs are cooking and even pairing top-notch dishes with beer. (Umm . . . gasp.) All of this has led craft beer to become one of the fastest growing businesses in the country. The irony is that somwhere in Belgium, there's probably a dude so sick of brewing that he wishes his family had just died in a barley blaze rather than spend another day on a centuries-old brew for the gods. But, America is rapidly catching up and craft brewers from around the globe are putting out arguably better product than our age-old European institutions. At least those Belgians are finally getting their props.

So we are here to say that we love beer. Unabashed, unashamed, with responsibility and dignity. We study it. We learn about it. We share it with those we love as an expression of ourselves as one might share a song or a joke, and as the brewers themselves have shared it with us. Our beer family is growing and we should be welcoming them in. We were welcomed in ourselves one day. Hopefully, this site will aid in building our community. It will not be snarky, but a shot might be fired here and there. Satire is practically guaranteed. The information will span reviews, interviews, news, and any tangentially-related whatnots that strike my fancy about beer. Sometimes the content will be advanced and sometimes I will cover basics so that people just learning have a place to start. Sometimes I will talk about a beer's gravity, or start a debate about color classification, and sometimes my girlfriend will say a beer "tastes like a vomit burp". But hey, that's beer right. And we love it.