Editor’s Note: Beer-tertainer Drew Webster is back to beer-ducate you and beer-xplain the finer points of the beverage you love and call beer in another Drew’s Brews.
Sour beer is not for everyone. If you poured someone a sour without telling them they might have trust issues. However, if you were to discuss their palate and the complexity of beers available and then ease them into tasting sours in small amounts you might convert them into a beer dork. Craft brewing is a booming business and there is a need for breweries to stand out and make bold beers that venture from tradition and borrow beer styles from abroad. Based on flavors usually found in parts of Europe like England, Belgium, and Germany most sours mimic Lambic and Saission varieties, to name a few. To get there, some American brewers use their flagship ales and blend their creation with aggressive Yeasts that changes the profile of the beer. The different temperatures used in brewing create unique and bold flavors that are crisp, sour, sweet, or spicy, which they blend with their base beer ingredients. There is a lot to it and it is fun to taste a variety of these artesian style beers.
If you have never tasted a sour beer or did but didn’t like it try doing a tasting flight with someone who can describe the beer or buy a set to try in succession at home. I always suggest Russian River, one of my old stand-by breweries, as a good starting point. They produce a line of “Belgian Inspired” beers that range in color and sourness beginning at mild and going to dark and high sourness. Buy a few and share with your friends. I recommend Damnation for starters (mild and light), followed by Temptation and finish with either Consecration or Supplication depending on what is available in your area. You may have to check out a craft beer store or nice bottle store to find them. If you are up for tasting a bunch of sour beers in Seattle with people who will appreciate them check out Sour Beer Fest at Brouwer’s Café in Fremont May 17, 2012. Now in honor of Spiked Punch, here’s what I’m drinking: I will heed my own advice and go for the Consecration from Russian River. Very unique standout of the series. This reddish brown beer should be enjoyed in a snifter or short taster. Go slow with it. It is a blend using dark malts and mixed with those powerful yeast components in Cabernet Sauvignon barrels with a bit of Cab to make a fruity tart berry taste in your mouth. Nicely balanced acids go down smooth and awaken your senses–yum. Give it a try if you think you’re a brave beer drinker.
Editor’s Note: As mentioned on the first Drew’s Brews post, these posts are written by wild and witty Drew Webster, who is a beer expert and who you should listen to if you like A: beer, B: fun, and C: beer.
For a long time, it was widely known that cheap beer was served in cans and glass was saved for premium beers. In recent years, however, there has been a role reversal and seemingly something of a can revolution. Aluminum canning has improved with the aid of materials and technology, and the new canning process includes an internal water based coating which actually prevents the beer from ever touching the aluminum and keeps the beer from taking on a metallic taste. There are many benefits to canning craft beer to both the consumer and the brewer. Cans are eco-friendly, easy to pack and carry, they chill faster, and they don’t break in storage. Most important to the beer drinker, canning preserves the purity of taste. Notice how many beer companies will use brown glass bottles to prevent UV light from affecting their beer; canning eliminates the dangers of light damage or oxidation occurring in packaging which means you get a tasty beer–every time (see big can image below for more can info). Craft beer snobs frowned at first when seeing more cans. I suppose something like the way a wine connoisseur feels about a loss of romance with synthetic corks, but it’s caught on in a big way. I personally credit Oskar Blues Brewing Co. for leading the way when they decided to pack their flagship Dales Pale Ale in a can. The concept of putting a big flavorful beer in a can was unheard of before the millennium. Today everyone is getting on board, from coast to coast you can find gold medal winning beers surrounded by aluminum. Some breweries only do cans and draft now.
Craft beers are being canned in 44 states across the US. There are 178 breweries producing 551 brews currently—so many tasty brews, what should you try (Craft Can Count courtesy of craftcans.com). Well, most of my favorite are dark and dirty but seeing as the sun is out it is time for lighter fare. In typical Spiked Punch fashion, Mama’s Little Yellow Pils from Oskar Blues Brewery is what I’m drinking. I love the comedic value of this beer and it may just be the “little yellow pills” my Ma was popping–which would explain a lot about me. This golden yellow beer pours smooth with a thin white foam head. It smells crisp and fresh and tastes the same with an earthy citrus finish and holds a nice balance of bitter but stays smooth with a nice aftertaste. It’s perfect for sipping on a spring afternoon in the sunshine with your feet up. Most American versions of the popular Czech beer are watered down and made with corn and rice but this one is their signature pale malt mixed with special German malts and Saaz hops for a unique American/Czech hybrid you can drink any day of the week. So go try one and join the revolution, you CAN do it!
Editor’s Note: Somehow, the Spiked Punch HQ was broken in to recently, and the whole staff was taken hostage by a thirsty beer-monger named Drew. He wasn’t looking for money, but did demand I let him write about beer on the site. Beer? I like beer! Really, not such a rough demand. The fact that Drew (Webster) knows a heaping hop-full about the beer, and writes in a way that will make you want to drink more (which is another thing Spiked Punch is all about) made relinkuishing some posts easy. And yes, I said “posts,” as the plan is for him to stop by to talk the beer with some regularity. So c’mon back.
My good friend and drinking companion A.J. Rathbun has decided to allow me a forum to vent my love of my drink of choice. Drew’s Brew will be a blog feature for beer news, drinking locations, beer reviews, and events. It may not be as glamorous or elegant as some of A.J.’s fine cocktails but beer has grown up a lot since the days of mass produced gallons of watered down knock off Pilsners and Lagers drowned this country in bland mediocre beverages.
Homebrew, craft breweries, and micro brews are growing faster than ever and we, the people, benefit. I want this blog to speak to you, for you, and with you, beer lover. Let your voice be heard! Post comments and leave suggestions and responses to the beers we discuss. Beer is truly the drink of the people (Editor’s Note: Drew does not speak for the editor). People love to drink cocktails and wine but unless they are well versed in mixology or have earned their Sommelier accreditation they are hesitant to tell you what they enjoy and why. Beer drinkers will happily tell you what they love to drink and why. Everyone’s opinion is valid in beer tasting, if you don’t believe me just go to Rate Beer where anyone can sign in and rate a store, beer or brewery based on their experience and pallet.
We are so fortunate to have so many great beers at our fingertips in the great Pacific Northwest. Because of this, I will offer up local digs in Seattle, but also (when I’m on the road) other locales, to point you toward bottle stores, breweries, or eateries with great taps. But I also want to hear your voice. And, in true Spiked Punch fashion, I will also include what I am drinking. A.J. turned me on to one of his favs, Hilliard’s, earlier this month but tonight I am in the mood for an “old reliable,” one of my all-time favorites: Old Rasputin. I enjoy this beer so much I stopped by the North Coast Brewery where it’s made in Fort Bragg, California on my road trip back from Big Sur last summer. Tucked in a sleepy coastal town outside Mendacino, this brewery makes some of best beers you have never heard of. Old Rasputin is an Imperial Stout that drinks smooth. It has a roasted malty flavor with hints of chocolate and coffee hidden in the aroma that rises into your nose as you take that first sip, breaking the surface tension that separates the dark black liquid and the tan creamy foam that sits thick on top. There is a great balance between sweet and bitterness in this complex but smooth sipping beer. A must try for anyone who loves a tasty stout on a cold dark night. You can find it at most quality bottle stores—in the Seattle area, for example, you can pick it up at Bottleworks in Wallingford, Beer Junction in West Seattle, or my favorite, Chuck’s on 85th (in the N. Ballard area).
For those regular readers of Spiked Punch (a list which includes my dogs Sookie and Rory, the dread Dormammu, and you), you know that I’ve taught a class at the Pantry at Delancey, which probably might lead you to believe that I’d be fan of Delancey, the pizza parlor. And you’d be right. To jump back, however (jump back!) in case you’re not from Seattle, Delancey is the, in my mind, finest pizza place in Seattle, and run by some fine folks, and the Pantry is a dreamy class and communal dinner spot behind it.
But what does this have to do with drinks? Well, it involves another Seattle spot, the newish brewery Hilliards. Hilliards is a beer-lover’s bubbly utopia in two ways: first, they make great-tasting beer (especially the Saison, which is smooth but with a bit of layered flavors and hints of spice and orange), and second, they make beer in really sweet-looking cans. Some days, I just want a can of beer in my hand. It’s less dangerous than a bottle, and a can reminds me a whole heaping lot of the Midwest where I sprouted.
And now, I’m gonna blow your mind: they serve Hillards at Delancey. Amazing. The universe is a wonderful place sometimes (and sometimes awfully cranky), and one of those times is when you can have a local beer in a can and a pizza and have them both be well-crafted marvels of taste without an ounce of snoot. I love it. And when you’re in Seattle, you should love it, and them, too.
In the above title, I did not mis-type. Neither did I mean I was drinking cold “soul” as if I were a demon thirsting for evil-doers or that I was drinking cold “Soul” as if David Soul were chilled down and liquefied. Oh, no. I meant was a drinking cold Sol, the light-on-its-feet beer made in Mexico that I sometimes fancy when it’s the height of summer (the other beer usually being Miller High Life, but when snacking on some cheese enchiladas lathered in mole, it’s Sol). And, strangely, here in September at this very moment seems to be Seattle’s height of summer, which has led me to Sol. Which sounds much deeper in thought than it is (but I can’t always be philosophical, in the same way that I can’t always be drinking only cocktails and mixed drinks. Sometimes, I just wanna pop open a bottle without any fuss):
PS: The above photo was taken with Hipstamatic on Nat’s iPhone, which I thought matched up the cantina feel of the Sol (and which was the only camera for miles at the time). If you really want to know the exact settings, let me know.
I (as demonstrated before) love me some Miller High Life. One summer, my pal Joel and I used to have a 12-pack chilled for us to drink on the porch every night at 2 am once home from the bars. One other summer (this was before High Life had a little hipster resurgence, too), my pal Erik and I drove up from Chicago to the Miller Brewing Company in Milwaukee and forced some sadsack salesperson to go into a back room and bring out a dusty box of High Life merch for us to wade through (we did buy a lot, admittedly). So, me and High Life have had a long and fruitful drunken relationship. And I’ve always referred to it, bottle, can, or keg, as the Champagne of beers. Now, the below ad is telling me that only bottles fit that description, and only uptight Wall Street types can drink said bottles, while working class chums are stuck with stinky ol’ cans and looking sadly at the privileged others. Damn, is even High Life stuck within some class-conscious vortex of suck? Or am I over-reacting? Should I just get a beer and go outside far away from corporate living and drink it and fill my talk hole with its golden goodness?
Or at least he thinks he can in the below video. But he is challenging you to prove him wrong. So, if you’re tough enough, film yourself and then let him know. I’m just happy I can have an open beer served to me really darn fast (and without even having to break the bottle’s neck off with a rock. Which is what I usually do).
Ohh, that title just makes me shudder: Death at the Bar. Perhaps the worst thing possible (well, okay, that’s a bit much—there are, in life, much worse things, but this is just a drinks blog, so give me some leeway), especially if it was a jolly evening. Which, in this book, by Ngaio Marsh (Ngaio is pronounced /ˈnaɪoʊ/ if you were wondering, and is a lady), isn’t 100% true, as the evening at the bar (a little English town bar called the Plume of Feathers. Which is fantastic, especially as it’s not a disco), is a tad contentious, with old fiesty relationships, and reds (in the commie way), and an arrogant lawyer, and more.
But it’s still a pretty good night (as the below quote points out, though it also has a bit of foreshadowing), until they decide to play darts. Because one of the characters is killed . . . by a dart. Or is he? You’ll have to read the darn book to find out, because I’m no spoiler.
Watchman had already taken three glasses of Treble Extra and, although sober, was willing to be less so. Parish, suddenly flamboyant, offered to bet Able a guinea that the brandy was not Courvoisier ’87, and on Abel shaking his head, said that if it was Courvoisier ’87, damn it, they’d kill a bottle of it there and then.
Sour beer is not for everyone. If you poured someone a sour without telling them they might have trust issues. However, if you were to discuss their palate and the complexity of beers available and then ease them into tasting sours in small amounts you might convert them into a beer dork. Craft brewing is a booming business and there is a need for breweries to stand out and make bold beers that venture from tradition and borrow beer styles from abroad. Based on flavors usually found in parts of Europe like England, Belgium, and Germany most sours mimic Lambic and Saission varieties, to name a few. To get there, some American brewers use their flagship ales and blend their creation with aggressive Yeasts that changes the profile of the beer. The different temperatures used in brewing create unique and bold flavors that are crisp, sour, sweet, or spicy, which they blend with their base beer ingredients. There is a lot to it and it is fun to taste a variety of these artesian style beers.
