Last night was spent at Rochester's Boulevard Grill, drinking Ommegang Hennepin and wishing good luck to Ommegang's Chris Sayre as he leaves his glamour marketing job for a career in the bread industry.
The Boulevard is a pleasant surprise. Owners Mike and Rob are really committed to good beer, and have dedicated plenty of tap space to craft brews. Thanks guys, for some great conversation and great beer.
-Mark
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
Beer Blogging...er...Monday?
Beer blogging Friday is a joint effort by beer writers Webwide to blog on a specific topic. Last Friday, the topic was stout. I missed the first round, but it got me thinking.
Thanks to the power of marketing money, stout in the USA is synonymous with Guinness. The Irish giant owns St. Patrick's Day, and is now trying to create its own holiday.
Guinness typifies Irish stout. Dry, slightly sour, with a moderate alcohol content served, of course with nitrogen combination. A freshly-dispensed Irish stout, with its cascading tumult of bubbles and puddinglike head, is possibly the prettiest sight in the world of beer.
But the real gem of the stout kingdom comes from the other side of the Irish sea. From London, actually; the home of milk stout.
First brewed in the 1870s as a nutritional beer, Milk stout is sweeter and thicker in body than its Irish cousin. The brew contains lactose, which doesn't ferment and adds the extra sweetness.
Around the turn of the 19th century, Milk stout was a signature London beer, much like porter was during the 1700s. Like many English beers, however, the changing of tastes away from real ale led to the near extinction of the style. The style is more or less recrated by several American microbrewers, but it's more of a dabbling than a serious attempt to revive the style.
The most prevalent tradional example is Mackeson's XXX Milk Stout. The Mackeson company and its US distributors have done an admirable job in making this beer available, so you can probably find it in your favorite specialty beer store. It's a treat on a cold winter night.
I'll be sure to join in for the next round of Beer Blogging Friday. It'll be fun to read other's takes, and it's always easier to post an entry when someone else is thinking up the ideas!
-Mark
Friday, March 02, 2007
Beer- the Rodney Dangerfield of booze
I found This while reading the Brookston Beer Bulletin.
The trouble with referencing articles on the BBB is that J is so thorough in his writing. I can do little but add smartass comments. Stick to your specialty, I always say.
The original article is a typical "we need content- pronto" feature piece, done with conclusions already drawn, and backed up with zero research. I should know. I've written hundreds of pieces like that myself.
But that's fine when writing to an audience already predisposed to stick up their noses at beer. Wine snobs certainly aren't going to dig any more deeply. Hell, when you spend your adult life in restaurants which feature enormous wine lists and three shitty beer choices, you can be forgiven for developing a mindset in which beer is an inferior, unsubtle beverage.
The gastronomic community has done beer lovers a huge disservice, and Ms. Jordan's mindset as she writes her original article proves it. As Jordan writes:
That's not a malicious paragraph, it's an example of beer's marginalization in gastronomic circles.
Granted, craft beer has made huge strides, and the industry continues to grow at a healthy clip, but Ms. Jordan has show we have a long way to go.
The trouble with referencing articles on the BBB is that J is so thorough in his writing. I can do little but add smartass comments. Stick to your specialty, I always say.
The original article is a typical "we need content- pronto" feature piece, done with conclusions already drawn, and backed up with zero research. I should know. I've written hundreds of pieces like that myself.
But that's fine when writing to an audience already predisposed to stick up their noses at beer. Wine snobs certainly aren't going to dig any more deeply. Hell, when you spend your adult life in restaurants which feature enormous wine lists and three shitty beer choices, you can be forgiven for developing a mindset in which beer is an inferior, unsubtle beverage.
The gastronomic community has done beer lovers a huge disservice, and Ms. Jordan's mindset as she writes her original article proves it. As Jordan writes:
While there are several different types of beer, most beer tastes relatively the same with some just not being quite as bad as others. Two different bottles of wine, however, can taste dramatically unalike. Wine drinkers are granted with the ability to pick from a variety of years, types, and flavors. They can choose red wine or white wine, wine from places as far as France or as close as Oregon. And, once engaged in a little wine tasting, wine drinkers can find a wine they really love.
That's not a malicious paragraph, it's an example of beer's marginalization in gastronomic circles.
Granted, craft beer has made huge strides, and the industry continues to grow at a healthy clip, but Ms. Jordan has show we have a long way to go.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Beercraft seminars, coming weekly to a pub near me!
Bruce and I have been asked by the management of Monty's Korner in Rochester, NY to put on a series of seminars that will introduce casual consumers to craft beer. We've agreed ('cause we get like a free pint, or something).
The first one will be held Thursday, March 8, at 7pm. In keeping with the season, we'll be talking about Irish stout. We'll briefly discuss the history and aspects of the style,then taste a range of Irish stouts. Everyone in attendance gets a free pint of Stout, too.
It's a casual focus, so we're not getting into the hardcore date: degrees Lovibond, IBUs, that sort of thing. Still, all are welcome and we hope to see you there.
-Mark
The first one will be held Thursday, March 8, at 7pm. In keeping with the season, we'll be talking about Irish stout. We'll briefly discuss the history and aspects of the style,then taste a range of Irish stouts. Everyone in attendance gets a free pint of Stout, too.
It's a casual focus, so we're not getting into the hardcore date: degrees Lovibond, IBUs, that sort of thing. Still, all are welcome and we hope to see you there.
-Mark
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Beercraft newspaper column #34- The anatomy of beer
The anatomy of beer
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
I think we can all agree that beer in its modern form is the pinnacle of human achievement. But when it comes to educating the masses about beer, there’s still a long way to go. Not everyone’s a home brewer or beer connoisseur, so let’s take a look at what’s really in your pint glass.
Beer is simple yet complex, like Mexican food. There are only four main ingredients, but the variety of colors, flavors, and aroma is staggering. Today, we’ll talk about those ingredients and what they do.
First off, there’s the water. It might all be clear, but water varies in hardness, acidity, salinity, and proportion of mineral salts, and has a tremendous impact on the beer in which it goes. Great brewing towns like Munich or Burton-on-Trent have become brewing centers because the quality of the water in those areas was the best for brewing.
Interestingly, the water from Hemlock Lake is quite similar to the water in southern Germany, which is why many German brewers set up shop in the Flour City during the 19th century. With dissimilar H20, it would have been much more difficult to brew their beer to the style they were looking for.
Malted barley is the primary grain used in brewing. To make malt, the barley is germinated and then dried. This creates enzymes that convert the grain’s starch into fermentable sugar.
The germinated grain is dried in a kiln, and often roasted to various degrees. When you roast barley, it gets dark. That’s where dark beer comes from. Stouts like Guinness are made from barley that’s roasted until it’s almost black, whereas a light lager would use malt that’s just dried in the kiln.
Because of its sugar content, malt by itself would make for a very sweet beer. What’s needed is a flavor that balances that sweetness. That’s why we have hops.
Hops are a flower that stabilizes the beer and imparts bitter and floral characteristics. They also work as an antibiotic that kills microorganisms competing with the yeast. By themselves, hop flowers are oily and strong-smelling, and there are many types. The Saaz and Hallertau hops used in German beer differ noticeably in flavor and smell than the Fuggles and Goldings hops used in British ales. American IPAs often contain the piney Cascade hops from Washington State and Oregon.
For centuries, brewers combined these ingredients in various ways, adding a little beer from a previous batch, and then waited, and presto! New beer. It wasn’t until guys like Louis Pasteur came along in the middle of the 19th century that the function of the fourth essential ingredient, yeast, was understood.
Yeast is a microorganism that eats sugar and poops out alcohol. When introduced to the wort (as the freshly brewed pre-alcoholic beer is called), the yeast begins a wild orgy of gorging and reproduction, converting the sugars to alcohol until all that fuel is used up. Brewers can measure and control the sweetness and alcohol content by stopping the fermentation at the appropriate measurement.
As you’ve probably already guessed, there are multiple types of yeast, each with its own long, Latin name you probably don’t care about. Suffice it to say there are two categories: Top-fermenting and bottom-fermenting.
The top-fermenting yeast makes ale. It foams up on the surface of the wort, thriving at higher temperatures than its bottom-feeding cousin. Lager is made from the bottom-fermenting stuff. These yeasts need a longer, colder fermentation period, and impart a crisper taste.
Finally, there are adjuncts: Grains like rice and corn that are fermentable, but cost less than barley. American macro brewers use them to lower the cost of brewing so their shareholders can be happy. These grains also have their taste characteristics, as anyone who’s ever suffered through a warm Molson Golden can tell you, and give American light lager its signature flavor.
We don’t condemn the use of adjuncts, although our consumption of these beers is minimal. You drink what you like, and if you like Bud, than by all means, gulp away.
We, on the other hand, will be searching the internet for the definition of Reinheitsgebot.
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
I think we can all agree that beer in its modern form is the pinnacle of human achievement. But when it comes to educating the masses about beer, there’s still a long way to go. Not everyone’s a home brewer or beer connoisseur, so let’s take a look at what’s really in your pint glass.
Beer is simple yet complex, like Mexican food. There are only four main ingredients, but the variety of colors, flavors, and aroma is staggering. Today, we’ll talk about those ingredients and what they do.
First off, there’s the water. It might all be clear, but water varies in hardness, acidity, salinity, and proportion of mineral salts, and has a tremendous impact on the beer in which it goes. Great brewing towns like Munich or Burton-on-Trent have become brewing centers because the quality of the water in those areas was the best for brewing.
Interestingly, the water from Hemlock Lake is quite similar to the water in southern Germany, which is why many German brewers set up shop in the Flour City during the 19th century. With dissimilar H20, it would have been much more difficult to brew their beer to the style they were looking for.
Malted barley is the primary grain used in brewing. To make malt, the barley is germinated and then dried. This creates enzymes that convert the grain’s starch into fermentable sugar.
The germinated grain is dried in a kiln, and often roasted to various degrees. When you roast barley, it gets dark. That’s where dark beer comes from. Stouts like Guinness are made from barley that’s roasted until it’s almost black, whereas a light lager would use malt that’s just dried in the kiln.
Because of its sugar content, malt by itself would make for a very sweet beer. What’s needed is a flavor that balances that sweetness. That’s why we have hops.
Hops are a flower that stabilizes the beer and imparts bitter and floral characteristics. They also work as an antibiotic that kills microorganisms competing with the yeast. By themselves, hop flowers are oily and strong-smelling, and there are many types. The Saaz and Hallertau hops used in German beer differ noticeably in flavor and smell than the Fuggles and Goldings hops used in British ales. American IPAs often contain the piney Cascade hops from Washington State and Oregon.
For centuries, brewers combined these ingredients in various ways, adding a little beer from a previous batch, and then waited, and presto! New beer. It wasn’t until guys like Louis Pasteur came along in the middle of the 19th century that the function of the fourth essential ingredient, yeast, was understood.
Yeast is a microorganism that eats sugar and poops out alcohol. When introduced to the wort (as the freshly brewed pre-alcoholic beer is called), the yeast begins a wild orgy of gorging and reproduction, converting the sugars to alcohol until all that fuel is used up. Brewers can measure and control the sweetness and alcohol content by stopping the fermentation at the appropriate measurement.
As you’ve probably already guessed, there are multiple types of yeast, each with its own long, Latin name you probably don’t care about. Suffice it to say there are two categories: Top-fermenting and bottom-fermenting.
The top-fermenting yeast makes ale. It foams up on the surface of the wort, thriving at higher temperatures than its bottom-feeding cousin. Lager is made from the bottom-fermenting stuff. These yeasts need a longer, colder fermentation period, and impart a crisper taste.
Finally, there are adjuncts: Grains like rice and corn that are fermentable, but cost less than barley. American macro brewers use them to lower the cost of brewing so their shareholders can be happy. These grains also have their taste characteristics, as anyone who’s ever suffered through a warm Molson Golden can tell you, and give American light lager its signature flavor.
We don’t condemn the use of adjuncts, although our consumption of these beers is minimal. You drink what you like, and if you like Bud, than by all means, gulp away.
We, on the other hand, will be searching the internet for the definition of Reinheitsgebot.
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
Monday, February 26, 2007
A surprise from Rohrbach
I gotta be honest. When Jen at Monty's Krown first told me about the Rohrbach Brewing Company Java's Espresso Stout (made with real Java Joe's coffee) they had on hand-pull, I was a little skeptical. Coffee can be overwhelming in beer when not used judiciously, and Rohrbach isn't exactly the best at the specialty ales.
But I tried a sample. I then ordered a pint.
The stuff is good. There's a nice coffee essence that doesn't domintate the flavor of the beer, followed up by a pleasant porter flavor that could probably use a bit more body, but went down nicely nonetheless. Thanks to Rohrbach for nailing down a first-rate pint.
-Mark
But I tried a sample. I then ordered a pint.
The stuff is good. There's a nice coffee essence that doesn't domintate the flavor of the beer, followed up by a pleasant porter flavor that could probably use a bit more body, but went down nicely nonetheless. Thanks to Rohrbach for nailing down a first-rate pint.
-Mark
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
What makes a good beer bar?
First off... I got the sense from their last column that the Democrat and Chronicle's Beer Buddies are getting their homebrew hats on. They've been threatening to do so for over a year. Good luck, guys, and save some for us! We'll be gentle. We Swear!
Now, to the topic at hand. What makes a good beer bar? Is it as simple as the presence of good beer? I don't think that's enough. For a bar to earn the esteemed title Beer Bar from the esteemed likes of Bruce and myself, certain criteria must be met.
There must be a broad selection of styles.
A bar that features beer from 15 different craft breweries is great, but when each beer is an IPA, it tends to fatigue my taste buds. Show me something across the range. Have at least one good lager, a hearty stout, and, dare I suggest, something on hand-pull.
The staff must know what the f*ck they're talking about
Everyone doesn't have to be a zymurgist, but a basic knowledge of beer styles, flavor characteristics, and, most importantly, pronunciation is nice. I once tried to order a Kapuziner Hefe-Weizen. After a few minutes of back and forth, the server came back with "Oh, you mean Ka-PEW-zinn-er!"
Bartenders and servers, you can pronounce "chipotle" without a hitch. Why can't you take two minutes at the start of your shift to nail the pronunciation of what your customers are going to be asking for? Communication is a wonderful thing.
The place has to be comfortable
There's nothing worse than a stuffy beer bar. I'm fortunate to live in Rochester, which has some nice, knowledgeable pubs that fit (and sometimes smell) like an old shoe. In bigger cities, the places with the best selection tend to be huge and corporate, with 100% monthly staff turnovers and slick margarita menus. I can never feel at home in one of those places.
That's all it takes to make me happy. I just wish places like that weren't so rare.
Now, to the topic at hand. What makes a good beer bar? Is it as simple as the presence of good beer? I don't think that's enough. For a bar to earn the esteemed title Beer Bar from the esteemed likes of Bruce and myself, certain criteria must be met.
There must be a broad selection of styles.
A bar that features beer from 15 different craft breweries is great, but when each beer is an IPA, it tends to fatigue my taste buds. Show me something across the range. Have at least one good lager, a hearty stout, and, dare I suggest, something on hand-pull.
The staff must know what the f*ck they're talking about
Everyone doesn't have to be a zymurgist, but a basic knowledge of beer styles, flavor characteristics, and, most importantly, pronunciation is nice. I once tried to order a Kapuziner Hefe-Weizen. After a few minutes of back and forth, the server came back with "Oh, you mean Ka-PEW-zinn-er!"
Bartenders and servers, you can pronounce "chipotle" without a hitch. Why can't you take two minutes at the start of your shift to nail the pronunciation of what your customers are going to be asking for? Communication is a wonderful thing.
The place has to be comfortable
There's nothing worse than a stuffy beer bar. I'm fortunate to live in Rochester, which has some nice, knowledgeable pubs that fit (and sometimes smell) like an old shoe. In bigger cities, the places with the best selection tend to be huge and corporate, with 100% monthly staff turnovers and slick margarita menus. I can never feel at home in one of those places.
That's all it takes to make me happy. I just wish places like that weren't so rare.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
An unlikely scenario, part two: Bruce's list
My top ten beers to have if I were stranded on a desert island.
Southern Tier Phin and Matts Extrordinary Ale
Zywiec Porter
Spaten Lager
Catamount 10th Anniversary IPA-(unfortunately no
longer produced)
Paulaner Hefe-Weizen
Bittburger Pils "Bitte ein Bitt"
Sheaf Stout
Tucher Bajuvator Doppelbock
AKTIEN - TÄNZELFEST
Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale
Yup, that's right, 5 of 10 are from Germany
-Bruce
Southern Tier Phin and Matts Extrordinary Ale
Zywiec Porter
Spaten Lager
Catamount 10th Anniversary IPA-(unfortunately no
longer produced)
Paulaner Hefe-Weizen
Bittburger Pils "Bitte ein Bitt"
Sheaf Stout
Tucher Bajuvator Doppelbock
AKTIEN - TÄNZELFEST
Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale
Yup, that's right, 5 of 10 are from Germany
-Bruce
Monday, February 19, 2007
An unlikely scenario
Bruce and I were enjoying an excessive quantity of Spaten Marzen yesterday, and the conversation turned to beer, as it so often does. Gazing down a line of 85 taps, we discussed which brews sucked, which were great, and which were totally indispensable (and therefore should be most frequently dispensed).
Eventually, the dreaded question was asked. "If you were stranded on a desert island with only 10 beers, which ones would you pick?"
Now assuage the more literal-minded readers, this is a purely hypothetical question that does not take into account temperature, storage, or an other external factor. We'll just assume everything is perfect, every time.
Mark's top 10:
-Mark
Eventually, the dreaded question was asked. "If you were stranded on a desert island with only 10 beers, which ones would you pick?"
Now assuage the more literal-minded readers, this is a purely hypothetical question that does not take into account temperature, storage, or an other external factor. We'll just assume everything is perfect, every time.
Mark's top 10:
- Tucher Bajuvator Doppelbock
- Spaten Muenchner Hell
- Warsteiner Dunkel
- Pilsner Urquel
- Saku Baltic Porter
- Southern Tier Phin and Matt's Extraordinary Ale
- Sam Smith Oatmeal Stout
- Delirium Tremens
- Great Divide Titan IPA
- Fuller's ESB
-Mark
Thursday, February 15, 2007
In Liverpool...
It's time for the annual Real Ale Frenzy. 5000 tickets sold out in two hours. Not bad for a style that nearly died out in the 1970s. Thanks, CAMRA, for all your contributions over the years.
Hmm... I could do with a pint of Fuller's myself...
Hmm... I could do with a pint of Fuller's myself...
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Blogger is driving me to drink
So I foolishly switched over to the 'new' google-powered version of blogger, and now everything's fucked up. All my extra code is gone. It'll take me a while to fix all this (and add a blog search engine).
In the meantime, I'll talk more about beer. Bruce and I hit the new Webster MacGregor's for the second time. They just opened on Super Bowl Sunday, and appear to be firing on all cylinders. 85 taps and a very friendly server named Amanda will surely be the latest cause of my ruin.
-Mark
In the meantime, I'll talk more about beer. Bruce and I hit the new Webster MacGregor's for the second time. They just opened on Super Bowl Sunday, and appear to be firing on all cylinders. 85 taps and a very friendly server named Amanda will surely be the latest cause of my ruin.
-Mark
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I may be lame, but I'm not extreme
(actual conversation with a reader)
"Your blog is getting really lame."
"I know I haven't been posting a lot. What sort of stuff would you like to see in the blog that would bame it better?"
"Anything but what you're posting."
Well shit, with constructive criticism like that, I can really gauge what's on the minds of the beer-oriented public. Personally, I don't want to write a lame blog; there are enough of those out there already. But that's why comments are enabled.
After writing about beer on a regular basis for over a year, it gets tough to think of new topics and takes. There is nothing I'd like more than input and subject suggestions from readers, but it's pretty rare. On the day ebaum's world linked to us, we had 3400 visitors. 3 left a comment.
So please, dear faithful, I want to know what you guys are interested in. I need your ideas. A vague put-down doesn't exactly help me make things more interesting.
Let's use that rant as the worst segue in the world, and get to today's topic, which is the extreme beer debate. Over the last few years, the trend in microbrewing, and microbrew distribution, has been toward ludicrously strong, comically bitter beers that strangle you with hop vines and leave you unable to drive home. These Imperial Pilseners, Imperial IPAs Quadruple bocks, and dubbel barley wines are simultaneously being heralded as the new revolution in American craft brewing and the scourge of the beer culture.
Personally, I don't view beer as vehicle with which to demonstrate my machismo. I also don't see it as a bullet-train delivering alcohol to my bloodstream as rapidly as possible. If I need a fast buzz that badly, vodka would be the superior choice.
Beer is social. When I'm out with my friends, it's far preferable to order several glasses of a weaker "session" beer that's perfectly brewed to style than a rosin-saturated alcohol bomb.
I guess I just like my nights to last longer than twenty minutes. Hey barkeep! Another Pilsener, and make sure there's nothing imperial about it.
-Mark
"Your blog is getting really lame."
"I know I haven't been posting a lot. What sort of stuff would you like to see in the blog that would bame it better?"
"Anything but what you're posting."
Well shit, with constructive criticism like that, I can really gauge what's on the minds of the beer-oriented public. Personally, I don't want to write a lame blog; there are enough of those out there already. But that's why comments are enabled.
After writing about beer on a regular basis for over a year, it gets tough to think of new topics and takes. There is nothing I'd like more than input and subject suggestions from readers, but it's pretty rare. On the day ebaum's world linked to us, we had 3400 visitors. 3 left a comment.
So please, dear faithful, I want to know what you guys are interested in. I need your ideas. A vague put-down doesn't exactly help me make things more interesting.
Let's use that rant as the worst segue in the world, and get to today's topic, which is the extreme beer debate. Over the last few years, the trend in microbrewing, and microbrew distribution, has been toward ludicrously strong, comically bitter beers that strangle you with hop vines and leave you unable to drive home. These Imperial Pilseners, Imperial IPAs Quadruple bocks, and dubbel barley wines are simultaneously being heralded as the new revolution in American craft brewing and the scourge of the beer culture.
Personally, I don't view beer as vehicle with which to demonstrate my machismo. I also don't see it as a bullet-train delivering alcohol to my bloodstream as rapidly as possible. If I need a fast buzz that badly, vodka would be the superior choice.
Beer is social. When I'm out with my friends, it's far preferable to order several glasses of a weaker "session" beer that's perfectly brewed to style than a rosin-saturated alcohol bomb.
I guess I just like my nights to last longer than twenty minutes. Hey barkeep! Another Pilsener, and make sure there's nothing imperial about it.
-Mark
Monday, February 12, 2007
Beercraft newspaper column #33- Oh Canada!
Canadian beer
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
One nice thing about living in
Canadians, however, gets overshadowed by its gargantuan neighbor to the south, and it has become something of a point of pride to nurture and develop all things Canadian in a quest for national and cultural identity. Bookstores in
Whereas Americans have no problem making fun of our fizzy domestic lagers, Canadians tend to latch onto their brew with a fierce sense of civic pride. For the most part, Canadian mass-market lager is identical to ours, but it’s regarded as an expression of national culture by our friends north of the border.
And even though the Canadian beer industry has been gutted by takeovers, buyouts, and mergers, even though most Canadian beer has less character than Terrell Owens, even though there are some real duds (I’m talking to you, Alexander Keith’s “I.P.A.”), there are still some beers up there which really warrant a drive up to the duty-free shop.
Beers like Steam Whistle Pilsner. Brewed right at the base of
What Steam Whistle does have is the best pilsner in
The other great Canadian brewery is
No, seriously, it means “The End of the World,” and that’s precisely what you’ll wish for if you drink this Belgian style strong ale to excess. A sweet, citrus aroma, rich tawny gold color, and peppery sweet flavor make it a sensual beer. The warm, alcoholic finish offers plenty of warning about what you’re getting into.
Le Fin du Monde is a fantastic pairing beer, a perfect complement to meat, sausage, and strongly flavored fish dishes. It would also go nicely with fruit-based desserts. However, at 9% alcohol by volume it’s most frequently, however, it gets paired with Ibuprofen, inappropriate comments, and the barroom floor.
These are just a couple prominent examples of what’s going on in
Isn’t that what international cooperation is all aboot?
In other beers:
The Old Toad has just held a Beer and Dessert Pairing. Toad employee (and certified English girl) Katie Streets put together a five-course dessert flight, each cunningly paired with an appropriate, sometimes surprising beer. Among the highlights: Crème Brulee mated to Glenmorangie-infused Sam Smith Oatmeal Stout and Fresh Mint Chocolate chip Ice cream paired up with Brooklyn Chocolate Stout.
The desserts were made from scratch, the presentation excellent. It really highlighted the notion that beer is so much more than a buzz generator. Congrats to Katie and her fellow Toadies for going out on the limb,
Now if only they’d do a German beer and sausage pairing, but it’s doubtful that there’s much room for Old Jerry in this most English of pubs.
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Up or Downmarket? Michelob make up your mind
Michelob is getting a makeover, but A-B still doesn't get it.
First of all, it's awesome that this venerable American brew is returning to an all-malt formula, losing the corn and rice adjuncts. I think this will really give the brewers a chance to demonstrate high quality in what's traditionally perceived as a low-qual market. We'll definitely be trying this one when it launches.
But their brand concept, as reported in the story, is schizophrenic. It's great that the beer is being aligned as super-premium, with appropreate media support, packaging, and the other trappings of sophistication, but how the hell can you do that in 2007 without aligning the product with craft beers? Isn't it because of craft beers that these changes in production and marketing become necessary in the first place?
Michelob's brand managers will say they want to compete with import Eurolagers, not domestic micros. Fine, I'll give them that. But then they shouldn't count on "bringing the brand closer to its original roots and target." Michelob is an American beer, positioned higher up the chain than Busch, Stroh's, or Bud, but still available in $5 pitchers at the local watering hole. It's not a beer people drink to savor. They quench with it. They chug it. They bounce ping-pong balls into it, and that's just the way it is.
Michelob is making a mistake with a two-pronged branding strategy. Either consolidate the brand as super-premium, pushing the reversion to all-malt brewing, or go retro and appreal to the more ironically minded.
Shooting for both is likely to get them neither.
-Mark
The brew, long dubbed as "a beer for connoisseurs," has been made with imported hops, a high percentage of two-row barley malt and adjuncts like rice and corn. Those adjuncts will be gone from the new recipes. A new embossed teardrop bottle is intended to give Michelob a "worth more" look as it tries to stay in the super premium niche among imports and specialty brews. A-B had adopted the microbrew practice of creating seasonal beers—such as Michelob Seasonal All Malt Lager in 2004-05—and sample cases. Yet the redo is not intended to align Michelob with craft beers, say wholesalers. Rather the strategy is to bring the brand closer to its original roots and target, which is older consumers. Product literature describes the target as 28 to 54-year-old drinkers who might be drawn to a beer with "more robust malty body and distinctive hop character.
First of all, it's awesome that this venerable American brew is returning to an all-malt formula, losing the corn and rice adjuncts. I think this will really give the brewers a chance to demonstrate high quality in what's traditionally perceived as a low-qual market. We'll definitely be trying this one when it launches.
But their brand concept, as reported in the story, is schizophrenic. It's great that the beer is being aligned as super-premium, with appropreate media support, packaging, and the other trappings of sophistication, but how the hell can you do that in 2007 without aligning the product with craft beers? Isn't it because of craft beers that these changes in production and marketing become necessary in the first place?
Michelob's brand managers will say they want to compete with import Eurolagers, not domestic micros. Fine, I'll give them that. But then they shouldn't count on "bringing the brand closer to its original roots and target." Michelob is an American beer, positioned higher up the chain than Busch, Stroh's, or Bud, but still available in $5 pitchers at the local watering hole. It's not a beer people drink to savor. They quench with it. They chug it. They bounce ping-pong balls into it, and that's just the way it is.
Michelob is making a mistake with a two-pronged branding strategy. Either consolidate the brand as super-premium, pushing the reversion to all-malt brewing, or go retro and appreal to the more ironically minded.
Shooting for both is likely to get them neither.
-Mark
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Bad beer
A random google search for "bad beer" revealed this fun little site. It's nice to know someone's paying homage to the swill you used to drink in college.
While this site pulls no punches in calling out sub-premium American lagers, I'd like to see it expanded to include bad craft beer (of which there is an unfortunate abundance). So c'mon, Satan165 and Mark Blackout, grab your trusty thesaurus and let it rip.
Let me know if you need some suggestions. I try to be nice on my own blog.
While this site pulls no punches in calling out sub-premium American lagers, I'd like to see it expanded to include bad craft beer (of which there is an unfortunate abundance). So c'mon, Satan165 and Mark Blackout, grab your trusty thesaurus and let it rip.
Let me know if you need some suggestions. I try to be nice on my own blog.
Monday, January 22, 2007
It's the ritual, stupid!
For a while, it looked like the Saints would rally. Although committing turnover after ridiculous turnover, the Bears' impotent offense, led by Rex "I swear, this has never happened to me before" Grossman were unable to put the game out of reach during the first half.
I'll spare the gory details of the game's latter parts. You already know them.
The point is, I once again found myself hanging out at a buddy's house in front of the big-screen TV, watching the violent committee meeting that is NFL football, and it made me think about ritual.
It's a term we tend to associate with church, but the fact is that people like structure, and they use the trappings of ritual in all parts of their lives: How they get ready in the morning, how they operate at work, how they shop, and even how they play.
A sport is, after all, a ritual. It follows rules, uses iconography and uniform, and (usually) takes place at predefined times and places. Therefore it shouldn't be a surprise that fans find their own way to participate in the ceremony.
For me, and many others, beer factors prominently into the event. If I'm watching German Soccer, I'm drinking German lager, usually a beer from the city where the game is being played. English soccer might see me slurping down a Boddington's, and, for American Football and Baseball, I prefer macrobrewed American lagers; the very stuff most beer geeks rail against.
Are they the best beers? No. But Budwiser and its ilk are part of the ritual. You don't have a 1996 Ducru Beaucaillou as the wine in church communion. Likewise, high-end beer just seems inappropriate and it screws up the ritual.
Hmm, maybe if Gatorade marketed a sports beer, we'd have the best of all worlds. It sure would look good being foamily poured all over a Super Bowl-bound coach.
I'll spare the gory details of the game's latter parts. You already know them.
The point is, I once again found myself hanging out at a buddy's house in front of the big-screen TV, watching the violent committee meeting that is NFL football, and it made me think about ritual.
It's a term we tend to associate with church, but the fact is that people like structure, and they use the trappings of ritual in all parts of their lives: How they get ready in the morning, how they operate at work, how they shop, and even how they play.
A sport is, after all, a ritual. It follows rules, uses iconography and uniform, and (usually) takes place at predefined times and places. Therefore it shouldn't be a surprise that fans find their own way to participate in the ceremony.
For me, and many others, beer factors prominently into the event. If I'm watching German Soccer, I'm drinking German lager, usually a beer from the city where the game is being played. English soccer might see me slurping down a Boddington's, and, for American Football and Baseball, I prefer macrobrewed American lagers; the very stuff most beer geeks rail against.
Are they the best beers? No. But Budwiser and its ilk are part of the ritual. You don't have a 1996 Ducru Beaucaillou as the wine in church communion. Likewise, high-end beer just seems inappropriate and it screws up the ritual.
Hmm, maybe if Gatorade marketed a sports beer, we'd have the best of all worlds. It sure would look good being foamily poured all over a Super Bowl-bound coach.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Is this...barley wine??
Ran into Pete Malfatti, beer distributor extraordinaire last night. He opened the trunk of his car and passed me over some Lagunitas Hairy Eyeball.
He says it's a barley wine, Beeradvocate.com says it's an American strong ale. I says it's Friday and we'll find out tonight!
He says it's a barley wine, Beeradvocate.com says it's an American strong ale. I says it's Friday and we'll find out tonight!
Monday, January 15, 2007
Beercraft newspaper column #32- Mainstream import lagers
Imprted Lagers- it’s a premium bland!
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
It’s actually pretty frustrating for beer lovers. Go into a fine restaurant and look at what beverages are available to complement your $40 entrée. There’s a wine list the size of the US Tax Code, but as far a beer is concerned, there’s the same old four brews the caterer supplied at your cousin’s Bar Mitzvah.
Some of us LIKE beer with our dinner, and while it may never be as hoity-toity as wine, it would be nice to see some of the wonderfully complex and worldly beers on the freakin’ menu from time to time!
Anyway, if you’re sitting down with your date, and you have to choose among the staple imports, allow us to break them down for you. If you’re picking up some euro lager for around the house, we’ve offered some suggestions you may not have considered.
Beck’s Lager, from the German town of Bremen, is the German analog of Budweiser and the most widely available German beer in the USA. It’s conspicuously clean-tasting and well balanced. You can taste both the malt foundation and a pleasant bitterness imparted by the hops.
These characteristics make Beck’s a good choice if you’re mowing the lawn, or if you’re flying to Germany in Lufthansa’s less-than commodious economy cabin (where it’s free). But if more character and flavor is desired, find some Spaten Lager or Jever Pils.
It doesn’t seem necessary to prove that Americans will buy anything, but Corona affirms the theory nonetheless. You have a Corona there? Oh goody. Let’s try a little experiment. Open the bottle…
Now take a sip without the lime.
See? Nasty, isn’t it? The fact that Corona is borderline undrinkable without the addition of Citrus fruit, coupled with its premium price, makes this Mexican import as favorite whipping boy for beer enthusiasts, many of whom have their own theories about how the brewery workers ‘produce’ this thin yellow lager.
Granted, with the lime, a Corona can go down nicely on a hot day, and you sure can drink ‘em fast, which explains their population among the frat boy ‘first real job’ professional set. But for a step up, try Pacifico or Sol. They’re also imported from Mexico but offer a bit more flavor and pleasant character.
The Netherlands, of course, weighs in with Heineken, another beer whose export success can be chalked up to marketing dollars. The chief gripe about Heiney is the skunky flavor. It’s caused by the green bottle, which unlike brown bottles don’t stop ultraviolet light. The UV breaks down the alpha acids in the hops, causing a chemical reaction which releases that skunk flavor.
The Heineken keg-cans, however, avoid the skunk problem; from a can, you can taste Heineken as it actually is: bland. No character, No real presence, a lackluster body, yet waaay over hyped, it is the Paris Hilton of beers. Still, it’s drinkable when you’re at that wedding to which you’ve been dragged. And you don’t know 80% of the people there, and the only person you want to talk to is the bartender who’s just popped you another Heineken , and, oh crap, they’re about to start ‘The Chicken Dance…’
Sorry, little flashback there. Anyway, for a better, more interesting Dutch beer, get some Grolsch. It’s more robust, with a pleasant sweetness, and it comes in a cool chunky bottle with a mechanical stopper- you can unseal and reseal the bottle as much as you want. Great fun!
We’re not saying these beers are the bottom of the barrel, but they’re engineered and marketed to stay firmly in the middle. We drink them, and enjoy them, but it behooves any beer enthusiast to look beyond the obvious and find the true great flavors and combinations.
Just like any good chef or sommelier should. Hint, hint!
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
It’s actually pretty frustrating for beer lovers. Go into a fine restaurant and look at what beverages are available to complement your $40 entrée. There’s a wine list the size of the US Tax Code, but as far a beer is concerned, there’s the same old four brews the caterer supplied at your cousin’s Bar Mitzvah.
Some of us LIKE beer with our dinner, and while it may never be as hoity-toity as wine, it would be nice to see some of the wonderfully complex and worldly beers on the freakin’ menu from time to time!
Anyway, if you’re sitting down with your date, and you have to choose among the staple imports, allow us to break them down for you. If you’re picking up some euro lager for around the house, we’ve offered some suggestions you may not have considered.
Beck’s Lager, from the German town of Bremen, is the German analog of Budweiser and the most widely available German beer in the USA. It’s conspicuously clean-tasting and well balanced. You can taste both the malt foundation and a pleasant bitterness imparted by the hops.
These characteristics make Beck’s a good choice if you’re mowing the lawn, or if you’re flying to Germany in Lufthansa’s less-than commodious economy cabin (where it’s free). But if more character and flavor is desired, find some Spaten Lager or Jever Pils.
It doesn’t seem necessary to prove that Americans will buy anything, but Corona affirms the theory nonetheless. You have a Corona there? Oh goody. Let’s try a little experiment. Open the bottle…
Now take a sip without the lime.
See? Nasty, isn’t it? The fact that Corona is borderline undrinkable without the addition of Citrus fruit, coupled with its premium price, makes this Mexican import as favorite whipping boy for beer enthusiasts, many of whom have their own theories about how the brewery workers ‘produce’ this thin yellow lager.
Granted, with the lime, a Corona can go down nicely on a hot day, and you sure can drink ‘em fast, which explains their population among the frat boy ‘first real job’ professional set. But for a step up, try Pacifico or Sol. They’re also imported from Mexico but offer a bit more flavor and pleasant character.
The Netherlands, of course, weighs in with Heineken, another beer whose export success can be chalked up to marketing dollars. The chief gripe about Heiney is the skunky flavor. It’s caused by the green bottle, which unlike brown bottles don’t stop ultraviolet light. The UV breaks down the alpha acids in the hops, causing a chemical reaction which releases that skunk flavor.
The Heineken keg-cans, however, avoid the skunk problem; from a can, you can taste Heineken as it actually is: bland. No character, No real presence, a lackluster body, yet waaay over hyped, it is the Paris Hilton of beers. Still, it’s drinkable when you’re at that wedding to which you’ve been dragged. And you don’t know 80% of the people there, and the only person you want to talk to is the bartender who’s just popped you another Heineken , and, oh crap, they’re about to start ‘The Chicken Dance…’
Sorry, little flashback there. Anyway, for a better, more interesting Dutch beer, get some Grolsch. It’s more robust, with a pleasant sweetness, and it comes in a cool chunky bottle with a mechanical stopper- you can unseal and reseal the bottle as much as you want. Great fun!
We’re not saying these beers are the bottom of the barrel, but they’re engineered and marketed to stay firmly in the middle. We drink them, and enjoy them, but it behooves any beer enthusiast to look beyond the obvious and find the true great flavors and combinations.
Just like any good chef or sommelier should. Hint, hint!
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Beercraft newspaper column #30- Wild Styles
Three wild beers for a brand new year
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
It’s a new year, and in observance of that we have a new resolution: 1280 X 800.
Ha ha. That was a little computer joke. But seriously, one resolution all beer fans should make is to try something new. We all have our favorite brands and styles, but it’s a good idea to get out of the rut from time to time; you never know what you might be missing.
In this spirit, allow us to suggest three “must-try” beers for 2007. They’re wildly different styles, but will certainly go well together in your refrigerator.
First, we’ll talk porter. It’s best known as a British style, and most American producers keep their recipes faithful to the classic London archetype. But 18th century shipping of porter from England to Russia has left an indelible taste for this dark, substantial beer style all along the Baltic Sea. Breweries in Poland, Estonia and Mother Russia developed a sweeter, milder porter of their own.
You can find Baltic porter by breweries such as Okocim (Poland) and Baltika (Russia), but we’re going to recommend Saku, from the diminutive nation of Estonia. Thick and dark, with a light caramel sweetness and creamy body, Saku goes down well on a chilly evening. Be careful, though. At 7% alcohol by volume, Saku Porter could get you into trouble with the law or your spouse.
Crossing the Baltic to Finland, we find sahti, of the strangest and rarest beer styles in the world. It’s the last of the primitive European beers; the kind peasants drank before hops wore used in brewing. Sahti is made of barley and rye, and flavored with juniper twigs and berries.
Finland is pretty much a “drink at home” (or sometimes a “drink until you pass out on the ferry to Leningrad”) culture, so sahti remains a very uncommercial beer. To our knowledge, you won’t find the real stuff anywhere in the USA. You will, however, be able to get your hands on Helsinki Gold, from Vermont’s Otter Creek Brewing Company.
We can’t really vouch for this beer’s authenticity, but Helsinki Gold is a different and very pleasant beer in its own right. The juniper lends the beer a prominent citrus bite, and the rye malt imparts a distinctive aroma. It’s lighter in color and mouthfeel than we expected sahti to be, actually a pleasant drink for a sunny afternoon. As usual, Otter Creek has released an adventurous and excellent specialty beer.
Hopefully, some entrepreneur will wise up one day and send us the real sahti. Who knows? It could be the most interesting thing to come out of Finland since saunas, hockey goalies, and, uh, Finnish chicks.
We’ll wrap up this tour of unusual beer styles in the unbearably quaint town of Bamberg, Germany, where half-timbered houses, cobblestone streets, and medieval-esque guildhalls provide the setting for one of the world’s great “love-hate” beer styles: Bamberger Rauchbier.
“Rauch” is the German word for smoke, and we’ll let that serve as an ominous introduction to what’s about to be poured in your mental glass. It’s basically a dark, sweet Marzen-style German lager in which the malt has been smoked over a beech fire prior to brewing.
Some people think the resulting beer is fabulous. Others think it tastes like a sausage. Still, people flock to Bamberg in droves to sample the famous Rauchbier at the source.
Your best bet here in the USA is the tongue-mangling Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier. Don’t try to pronounce it, just point and the guy will get it off the shelf for you. Very rarely, you’ll find it on draft in specialty beer bars, but usually a trip to a good beer store, like Rochester’s Beers of the World, s necessary.
Lots of American craft brewers have taken a stab at making Rauchbier, but more often than not, it tastes more like a brewery fire than anything else. It goes to show that 800 years of monastic brewing tradition and technique do pay off in the end. If you’ve been put off by microbrewed smoked beers, go back and give the Schlenkerla a try before closing the book on the entire style.
So there you go. You have a whole year to try three of the most unique styles in all of beerdom. Pull it off, and you’ll be an expert amongst your friends, and gain the almost magical ability to be insufferable at parties. And even if you don’t go wild over these untraditional styles, at least you’ll have something against which to contrast the flavor of your favorite pint.
At any rate, we’d love to hear your opinions on these styles. Drop us a line. We’ll be drinking sahti. In the sauna.
Hopefully with the Finnish chicks.
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
By Mark Tichenor and Bruce Lish
It’s a new year, and in observance of that we have a new resolution: 1280 X 800.
Ha ha. That was a little computer joke. But seriously, one resolution all beer fans should make is to try something new. We all have our favorite brands and styles, but it’s a good idea to get out of the rut from time to time; you never know what you might be missing.
In this spirit, allow us to suggest three “must-try” beers for 2007. They’re wildly different styles, but will certainly go well together in your refrigerator.
First, we’ll talk porter. It’s best known as a British style, and most American producers keep their recipes faithful to the classic London archetype. But 18th century shipping of porter from England to Russia has left an indelible taste for this dark, substantial beer style all along the Baltic Sea. Breweries in Poland, Estonia and Mother Russia developed a sweeter, milder porter of their own.
You can find Baltic porter by breweries such as Okocim (Poland) and Baltika (Russia), but we’re going to recommend Saku, from the diminutive nation of Estonia. Thick and dark, with a light caramel sweetness and creamy body, Saku goes down well on a chilly evening. Be careful, though. At 7% alcohol by volume, Saku Porter could get you into trouble with the law or your spouse.
Crossing the Baltic to Finland, we find sahti, of the strangest and rarest beer styles in the world. It’s the last of the primitive European beers; the kind peasants drank before hops wore used in brewing. Sahti is made of barley and rye, and flavored with juniper twigs and berries.
Finland is pretty much a “drink at home” (or sometimes a “drink until you pass out on the ferry to Leningrad”) culture, so sahti remains a very uncommercial beer. To our knowledge, you won’t find the real stuff anywhere in the USA. You will, however, be able to get your hands on Helsinki Gold, from Vermont’s Otter Creek Brewing Company.
We can’t really vouch for this beer’s authenticity, but Helsinki Gold is a different and very pleasant beer in its own right. The juniper lends the beer a prominent citrus bite, and the rye malt imparts a distinctive aroma. It’s lighter in color and mouthfeel than we expected sahti to be, actually a pleasant drink for a sunny afternoon. As usual, Otter Creek has released an adventurous and excellent specialty beer.
Hopefully, some entrepreneur will wise up one day and send us the real sahti. Who knows? It could be the most interesting thing to come out of Finland since saunas, hockey goalies, and, uh, Finnish chicks.
We’ll wrap up this tour of unusual beer styles in the unbearably quaint town of Bamberg, Germany, where half-timbered houses, cobblestone streets, and medieval-esque guildhalls provide the setting for one of the world’s great “love-hate” beer styles: Bamberger Rauchbier.
“Rauch” is the German word for smoke, and we’ll let that serve as an ominous introduction to what’s about to be poured in your mental glass. It’s basically a dark, sweet Marzen-style German lager in which the malt has been smoked over a beech fire prior to brewing.
Some people think the resulting beer is fabulous. Others think it tastes like a sausage. Still, people flock to Bamberg in droves to sample the famous Rauchbier at the source.
Your best bet here in the USA is the tongue-mangling Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier. Don’t try to pronounce it, just point and the guy will get it off the shelf for you. Very rarely, you’ll find it on draft in specialty beer bars, but usually a trip to a good beer store, like Rochester’s Beers of the World, s necessary.
Lots of American craft brewers have taken a stab at making Rauchbier, but more often than not, it tastes more like a brewery fire than anything else. It goes to show that 800 years of monastic brewing tradition and technique do pay off in the end. If you’ve been put off by microbrewed smoked beers, go back and give the Schlenkerla a try before closing the book on the entire style.
So there you go. You have a whole year to try three of the most unique styles in all of beerdom. Pull it off, and you’ll be an expert amongst your friends, and gain the almost magical ability to be insufferable at parties. And even if you don’t go wild over these untraditional styles, at least you’ll have something against which to contrast the flavor of your favorite pint.
At any rate, we’d love to hear your opinions on these styles. Drop us a line. We’ll be drinking sahti. In the sauna.
Hopefully with the Finnish chicks.
Bruce is a certified beer judge and former commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://beercraft.blogspot.com. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.
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