The Real McCoy (sort of)

So yesterday, I made fun of the short stubby bottles of Coedo Brewery and compared them to those of Chimay. Duh. I'm not thinking of the Chimay bottle, I'm thinking of the bottle. I'm stupid.

However, the traditionally bottled-up Duvel is now available in the US on draft. It's referred to either as "Duvel Single" or "Duvel Green," and it comes with an obnoxiously snooty website to boot. Of course I had to try it.

The elusive Duvel Green.

Duvel Green has a lower alcohol content than the classic Duvel, but it has many of the same spicy notes. It was inexpertly poured, sadly, with far too little head and much too much beer. That's right: I'm complaining that I got TOO MUCH BEER. The thing about Duvel (and many of the other high-octane Belgians) is that the high alcohol content obliterates some of the nuances in flavor, making much of their appeal is in their much more volatile aromas. A thick head in a tulip glass will help to trap those volatile compounds for your nose to vacuum up. No head and no headroom? Not a lot of aroma. Sad.

Duvel Green can get away with it though, because it's a much lower strength (6.8% abv instead of 8.5% abv) than the classic. Think it comes with a corresponding 20% reduction in price? THINK AGAIN. Of course, being at a gorgeous bar in SoHo didn't help price mitigation.

I picked up a lot of lemon peel and grass, with an undertone of fresh bread. It cut through my brunch of Croque Monsieur and fries, with Duvel's trademark spice pairing especially nicely with the creamy gruyere. No, it's not the classic Duvel, but it's a hell of a lot closer to the mark than Coedo.

Knock-offs

In a previous post, I derided Japan's Coedo Brewery of appearing to knock off the Chimay brand. I'm not linking to their website because it's full of flash and other infuriating website crap. However, here's a screenshot of their lineup:

My apologies on the size of this screenshot.

From left to right, that's Kyara, Ruri, Shiro, Shikkoku, and Beniaka.

It's got the same stubby bottle feel, same general color scheme, same luxurious feel. Same undersized pour too. Anyway, that red one, the Beniaka, was actually pretty good. So I had high hopes for the other two.

I tried the Shikkoku next. It's a schwartzbier, and I've had mixed successes with those. Sometimes they're insanely sweet (Xingu); other times, they're perfect (Full Sail Session Black).

Jet black pour

Apparently, Shikkoku is named after Japanese black lacquerwork, and it's pretty apt as an inspiration. This beer poured a very deep black, with a lot of roasted, almost charcoal qualities in the aroma. It had a very creamy head that lasted to the end of the beer, which wasn't terribly surprising given how small the beer was.

I should mention, without snark, that it was also really easy to drink. A lot of that had to do with the 5.0% ABV and a surprisingly dry finish for a schwartzbier. More of that had to do, unfortunately, with a very thin mouthfeel. I got some weak coffee flavors, maybe some brown sugar as well. But the nice aromas and inky blackness ultimately promised more than the flavor could deliver.

Two nights ago, I tried the final in the three (yes, there are two more out there in the world, but only 3 were available in my Japanese megamart. This was the white-label Shiro.

Shiro bills itself as an an unfiltered wheat beer with a "bright, smooth, slightly cloudy appearance." For an unfiltered beer, there's an awful lot of clarity in the glass. Otherwise, it was decent in its presentation, but once again, a wretchedly small pour.

That's a pint glass. Seriously. Maybe this beer is targeted toward people with Asian glow?

When I'm drinking a wheat beer, I try to find some banana or clove flavors, sometimes even bubblegum. It should be crisp and tart, without going too far into "sour." This guy didn't deliver on any counts. I got a lot of sour apple and a lot of just non-descript "beer" flavors with an alcohol bite that a 5.5% abv beer shouldn't have displayed.

There were two strikes against this beer, I think. The first was that it wasn't terribly fresh, and I think it may have just gotten manhandled in transit. The second was that I don't think I was eating it with a complementary foodstuff: fresh cherries. The cherries have been plentiful and cheap and sweet in NJ, so I've been enjoying them a lot this summer. But when paired with the beer, the cherries took on an astringency that negated any apple sweetness that I had managed to coax out of the beer. As a result, all that was left was a chemical bitterness. Small beer as it was, I didn't finish it - I ate the rest of the cherries instead.

Field Mouse's Farewell

I'm definitely a sucker for a cute label, and the Pretty Things Beer and Ale Project out of Somerville, MA has some of the folksiest and most lovely labels around. I mean come on, how can you resist a little mouse with a satchel slung over his shoulder? Of course the beer has to taste good too, and thankfully, Pretty Things makes some amazing beer.

This camera doesn't really do the beer justice.

The Field Mouse's Farewell poured a nice cloudy golden color, with a fluffy white head and an enticing aroma of light brown sugar and apples. It actually did look a little like a pale unfiltered apple cider. All of that sweetness in the nose gave way quickly to a bracingly (and unexpectedly) bitter sip on the tongue. Pretty Things gets a little wordy in their description of this beer though. "The hops are Strisselspalt from Alsace and Bramling Cross from England. We combined Belgian and English yeast strains (inspired by the proximity of Calais and Kent?). Oldy woldy worldy." Really? Oldy woldy worldy? Stick to beer - your writing is weird.

I will say, though, that the hops profile really gave this beer a huge kick of flavor. Unfortunately, the larger bottles in which this beer is sold means that by the end of the first glass, my tongue was crying out for something to cut the bitterness. I wish that this beer had been a little more balanced - maybe some sweetness in with all of that hops bite. I do, however, commend Pretty Things for varying up the hops profile: a lot of American hoppy ales are pretty one-note, like drinking a pine cone. Field Mouse's farewell delivered a lot of citrus, some pine, and quite a lot of pepperiness too. It might have gone well with some smoked cheese or cured meat: something with richness and oomph that could stand up to the flavors of the hops. I liked it, but next time I'll try to find a friend to share it with.

I swear this post was going to be timely.

The following is a reprint, in full, from the Boston Globe's Op/Ed page on July 23, 2011. I was still trying to figure out how to appropriate it for this blog's purposes when its timeliness ran out. So as a next best thing, I'm just re-running it in full, but here's a link. Enjoy.

It wasn't the shuttered state parks that prompted Minnesota’s governor and legislature to resolve a budget impasse. Nor was it the 22,000 furloughed state employees or the disruptions in services for the needy and the disabled. In the end, it was all about the beer.

The Minnesota state government shut down July 1, after Democratic Governor Mark Dayton and Republican legislative leaders failed to reach a budget deal. And for days, there was no end in sight. But on July 12, the Minneapolis Star Tribune reported that hundreds of bars would no longer be able to serve alcohol because state permits were set to expire. With no one on hand to issue new permits, there’d be no beer. The 10,000 places that sell liquor in the state were starting to see a depletion in stock, as inventories cannot be resupplied without a distributor tax stamp. The state had stopped issuing those.

And then, the unthinkable: Brewing giant MillerCoors was told to pull 39 of its brand labels from all shops, bars, and restaurants because it did not process its registration paperwork in time. The registration was set to expire on July 13.

Suddenly, Dayton and GOP lawmakers were willing to make compromises. The final budget deal, not much different from where the parties were before the shutdown, was negotiated less than 36 hours later, on July 15.

Coincidence? Maybe members of Congress, facing a much larger budget problem, should take a breath and have a beer. And thank their lucky stars that they can still have one.

I'm proud of Massachusetts as well for having seen the error of its ways on a new regulation passed last week. It would have required that brewers licensed as farmer-brewers grow 50% of the grains or hops they use to brew with. Without that distinction, Massachusetts brewers would be classified under the Federal rules enacted after prohibition, which mandate a three-tier industry of brewer to distributor to retailer. A brewer can't sell retail directly, so the rules mandate, unless it's a brewpub or a brewery tour, or, as in Massachusetts, a brewer-farmer. Here's the problem: the Commonwealth of Massachusetts doesn't have the field capacity for all of the brewer-farmers to purchase or grow 50% of the grains or hops needed. They just don't. Of course, the brewer-farmers licenses are a LOT cheaper than the regular brewers licenses, but I'm sure that didn't have anything to do with it.

So here's to Massachusetts for overturning that ridiculous rule. And here's to the New England Patriots. Football's back, baby.

oh dear...

Well, clearly, something went wrong... It would seem to the world that I enjoy drinking beer much more than I like writing about it, and that's not entirely true. It's just that hard work often pays off after time, but laziness always pays off now.

This same thinking, incidentally, might be why I kind of let all of July go in terms of going to the gym. There's a little counter on the gym login computer that shows the number of times I've logged in for the last 60 days. The highest I got was 30 - that was during Lent. Yesterday and today, the counter read 5, which means that the last time I was there regularly was about two months ago. Ouch.

What have I been doing instead? My colleague and I have been enjoying some good times at a Newark establishment called Port 44. We became regulars - the bartender would ask whichever of us showed up first where the other one was. One of my favorites: Siren's Wheat.

That's a good looking glass of beer.

Here's a beer that's drinkable on a hot day (of which, Newark has more than its fair share). It's a pretty low alcohol content (4.2% perhaps?) so it's great for a session, and because it's not too dark, it's pretty dry. I've found the darker the beer, the sweeter the beer (thanks to the Maillard Reaction). Siren's is good and dry - refreshing. And I don't need a lemon slice, thank you. It also goes to a good cause. Port 44 is owned by former cops, and 25¢ from each glass goes to fund a scholarship for the children of Police Officers, Firefighters, and EMTs. Not bad.

I say that Port 44 is owned by former cops, but that may not be for much longer. One of the few bright spots in Newark has been this pub, and now, it's for sale. Anybody want to sink $2.1 million into downtown Newark? Anybody?

Damn...

Anyway, for the next couple of days, I'm going to try to clear the notebook. It's a big notebook, and it's gotten pretty thick, so I hope you'll bear with me. As for Mr. West Coast? Maybe he's just out having too much fun.

Cruel Britannia

So I'm a pretty big fan of Britain. I spent two years of my life in the UK, and I enjoy a good pint of English bitter on a hot day. Or a cold day. Or really any day. Personal favorite favourite: Morland's Old Speckled Hen. Delicious stuff, and brewed not far from the dreaming spires I called home. But that's another beer for another post.

Which was why I was so excited about two British beers I was able to find in my local beer establishment, and why I was ultimately so let down by them.

First up, Wells' Bombardier. This poured a very promising ruddy amber, with a creamy off-white head with a decent staying power. From the looks of it, a good start.

Given the gorgeous look of this beer in the glass, I really expected better.

However, there was really no aroma to speak of. Granted, I poured the beer all the way to the top of the pint, so the glass was unable to trap any of the aromas. Clearly, I had to empty some space at the top of the glass by imbibing some of the liquid therein. Sadly, even the first sip was weak, a little bready and yeasty, but without the characteristic burnt caramel bite that I expect from a traditional English bitter. Additional attempts to coax an aroma out of the glass were roundly unsuccessful, and the mouthfeel got thinner and thinner as I continued to drink. It even developed, by the end of the bottle, a faint sourness, which was very out of place, and overall, the beer felt and tasted exceptionally watery.

Incidentally, I've provided the link to the Bombardier website, in case you are so interested. I cannot, however, in good conscience recommend clicking on it, however, as the site itself is designed very poorly, and the user experience assaults the sensibilities. Blah.

I also held out some promise for the Fuller's Vintage Ale 2009. Fuller's is the brewery of one of my favorite beers: London Pride, which is a wonderfully well-balanced session beer, as well as the previously and very well-reviewed London Porter, so I had very high hopes for the Vintage 2009. Sadly, this was also not to be.

Unlike the aforementioned watery mess of the Bombardier, the Vintage 2009 was awash in heavy flavors and aromas. The aroma was of sweet fruit, toffee, and candy, and the flavor was about the same, but with a kick of alcohol spiciness.

A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.

Unless the medicine is already as sweet as this stuff.

The pour was a deep amber, with a beautiful fluffy head that concentrated the aromas of cherries and, perhaps, cotton candy (or at least, severe amounts of sugar). The carbonation was pleasant and kept the sip interesting, but the flavor was severely disappointing. Instead of a molasses (treacle?) complexity that combines both bitter and sweet, this smacked of pure cane sugar. There were some banana esters that managed to escape being drowned out by the heavy sugar content. Instead of hops, the flavor of raw alcohol punctuated each sip, making for a truly bizarre counterpoint between cloying sweet and harsh spice. In the end, however, the syrupy sweetness of the beer won out and became very unpleasant, making the bottle a chore to finish.

It's almost enough to make me take up arms in revolution.

Barrington Brewery, aka Berkshire Mountain Brewery

I'm in Western Massachusetts for the July 4th holiday, and have had the great pleasure of sampling (read: drinking) quite a wide variety of excellent beers. Now, yesterday was a bit rainy and gross outside, though I highly recommend the Berkshire Botanical Garden, even on a rainy day. As my girlfriend put it, "rain is really nice; it's just too bad it's so wet."

This is a small portion of the Berkshire Botanical Gardens. Well worth the admission fee and the time.

Of course, after an afternoon of traipsing around the botanical gardens, and other "aggressively quaint" towns in Western MA, it was a delight to come across the Barrington Brewery & Restaurant, just outside Great Barrington, MA. I've seen their beers in stores here before, but I have to say, I'm really confused by their branding. The label on the ESB I bought clearly says Berkshire Mountain Brewery. And they seem totally OK with this discrepancy - both appear on the aforementioned website. Weird.

Berkshire Mountain Brewers. Or is it?

The label, if I may, also shows a beer and a sun behind it - a clear advertisement of their status as the first brewery on the east coast to go 100% solar to heat the water for their beer. It's an admirable step, and I commend them for it. If only their beers weren't quite so unbalanced.

I purchased an ESB and had it with dinner two nights ago. It had a nice copper color with a fluffy head that stuck around a lot. It didn't, however, have much of an aroma at all. Flavor was nice and refreshing at first, with a great breadiness on the front of each sip. On the back end, though, it was very bitter, and the bitter and sour notes obliterated all else on the palate. After a glass of it, though (a nice 22 oz. bottle has a little under two glasses), the beer got more beery tasting, and I started to pick up a lot more pine hops and some (still quite muted) citrus. As a result, I kind of thought maybe it was just me, or just that particular beer.

So when we drove by the Barrington Brewery & Restaurant, I wanted to go in to try out their beers on tap - maybe the beers just open up better when they haven't been stuffed into a bottle? I ordered the Ice Glen IPA, and found it very refreshing, but similarly one-note to the ESB. It was aggressively bitter and very floral. While I might have detected some malt sweetness that might have come from their roasting of the grain (the beer was a very attractive copper color), the bitterness really got in the way.

Barrington Brewery & Restaurant. Ice Glen IPA, straight from the tap. I wish my phone took better photos.

The head did leave a really nice lacing on the glass that I found very attractive. Unfortunately, the IPA didn't end up opening up like the ESB, which became a little more piney toward the end.

I always like to see a little bit of lacing on the glass. That's purty.

My girlfriend, on the other hand, had a try of the Blackbear [sic.] Stout, which poured jet black and obscured the black lettering on her pint glass. It had some wonderful dark-roast coffee aromas, which was promising. The first thing that hits is that roasted malt and bitter chocolate flavor - it's all of the complexity of deep chocolate and coffee and really burnt caramel, which is pretty amazing given that they were able to tamp down a lot of the traditional malt sweetness that usually makes beers of this color very syrupy and cloying. Unfortunately, what I didn't like about this beer was a very thin mouthfeel - usually something like this just feels a little more substantial in the mouth, maybe a little creamier, and I wasn't getting it.

Is it Barrington Bresery or Berkshire Mountain Brewery?

Is it Black Bear Stout or Blackbear Stout?

Of the three, I would drink the stout again, and I'm still eager to go back and try their other beers. I will say this: they both went really well with the mozzarella sticks we ordered, and the bar itself is very rustic. The bartendrix was smiley and efficient, and commanded authority in the room. And when a passer-through asked if she had any wheat beers, she smiled and said "no, but I can put a slice of lemon in yours, if that'll make you feel better." Now that's someone I want pouring my beer.