Thursday, January 31, 2008

One Thing about One Guy

Oh, it's late again. It's been a long day just as I thought it would be (my dad's home and fine, by the way, for those who expressed concern), and I just got done with a very necessary re-write on a sloppy piece I sent in to an editor who deserves much better. I'm heading for bed, and I'll just have to tell you about One Guy tomorrow. But I did want to leave you with this comparison.

The first picture was taken in the summer of 2006, and I posted it on my website as a mystery brewpub. I cut the pipes you see in the back off the wall about two months after this was taken.

The second picture was taken today. As I said to Guy, jeez, what a difference a drop ceiling makes. I had some delicious beers, and got a great interview (that, unfortunately for the blog, is already sold, so I won't be putting it up here). Best of all, I felt like I was back at the dawn of microbrewing again: simple, plain, personal, enthusiastic...and all about the beer.

Happy Blogday to me

Cheers!

So after all the excitement of making the post-a-day average, and all the reflection, what do you actually get on my Blog Anniversary? Me, back to work. I'm headed up to Berwick, finally, to check out One Guy Brewing, I'm going to stop in to visit my dad on the way (he's been in the hospital, better now, no worries), and then get to work on rewrites when I get home. Just another day, really. Hey, it's a working blog, okay? I'll show you some One Guy pix later.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Beaumont Makes Predictions

Seems like I'm seeing a lot of Stephen Beaumont this year. We were in Miami at the Cheers Conference together, we're going to be touring Germany and Belgium in about a month, and he's coming to town for Philly Beer Week. I'm looking forward to it; Steve's a good friend and he's got an uncanny knack for finding good places to drink.

So you should see more of him, too. Specifically, check out his blog over at That's the Spirit.com, where he's just posted the last of five predictions about beer in 2008. The predictions are:

1. Wood-aging increases
2. More malty beers in response to the hops shortage
3. "Chicks Dig Beer" (nice note of my Portfolio column on that, thanks)
4. Premiumization: the trend to trade-ups will continue
5. Higher prices from a variety of pressures

As always, these are nicely reasoned and thoughtful, and make sense. Take a look.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Two More Philly Beer Week Events...and My Dance Card is About Full

Before anything else, let me repeat: The Main Line Beer Tour, Great Beer Stops Along the Main Line, whatever, is not happening. Next year, we hope, and it's gonna be great, we hope, but not this year. Talk about the rumor that would not die...

That said, I do have two new Philly Beer Week events to tell you about.

Monday, March 10th, I'll be hosting an event we're calling "That's Not Belgian!" at the delightful Chick's Cafe. As alert readers know, I only discovered Chick's recently, and loved it. I was there doing recon for this event idea. Chick's has built a beer list different from any in this beer-happy city, and a central feature of it is a core of French, Italian, and Spanish beers, from breweries that are quite Belgianesque in their disregard for traditional brewing...but are not exactly Belgian, either. We're going to pair an array of these non-Belgian beers with food from their respective homelands for a beer dinner that should be like few Philly or anywhere else has ever seen. 6:30 PM, Price TBD.

Wednesday, March 12th will see me headed west, putting the "it's not just Philly" aspect of Philly Beer Week into action: "Philly Area Beer: Yeah, We've Got That. Join nationally-known beer writer Lew Bryson and local beer scene guru, BrewLounge.com's Bryan Kolesar, at one of the hottest new beer bars in the area, TJ's Everyday in Paoli, for a wild waltz through the breadth of beer produced by local brewers. Want Belgian? Got it. German? Jawohl! British? Certainly, dear boy. American craft innovation? Yo,we're all over that. Bryson and Kolesar will lead you through the local harvest with details, suggestions, and brewery stories, while TJ's kitchen supports it all with a grand presentation of their famed cuisine a la biere. 6:30 PM, pay as you go beer and a $25 six-course tasting menu."

(That's what's going up on the PBW website: TJ's Jeff Miller released the beerlist: General Lafayette Red Velvet, General Lafayette Churchill's Mild, Victory Hop Wallop, Victory Prima Pils, Riverhorse Double Wit, Troegs Mad Elf, Stoudt’s Smooth Hoperator, Stoudt's Brewer's Reserve (TBA), Yard’s Love Stout, Flying Fish Love Fish, Legacy Fantasy Ale, Sly Fox Gang Aft Agley Scotch Ale, Sly Fox IPA Project (TBA), Weyerbacher Merry Monks, Dogfish Head Raison D’Etre, Monk’s Café Flemish Sour, Lancaster Brewing (TBA), Erie Misery Bay IPA. Not bad...)

And Uncle Jack has confirmed what Triumph brewer Jay Misson hinted at in a comment here: that the Philly Beer Week Real Ale Fest is taking place, but due to site problems, Yards and Triumph will be hosting it together at Triumph Old city, on Sunday March 16th, from 1 to 4 PM. Just in time for you to stroll over there from my PA Beer Brunch at Fork, about a block and a half away.

Incidentally, that Beer Yard calendar UJ's put together is pretty slick; slicker than the PBW site's. Check it out.

For those of you keeping score at home...yes, this is Post Number 365, which means I have achieved my goal of averaging a post a day over my first year of blogging. Wahoo!
Okay, back to work...

Tribute to Joe Sixpack

There is a very nice piece about Don Russell, the Philadelphia Daily News's Joe Sixpack columnist since 1996, up on the American Journalism Review website. It highlights what was probably Russell's defining moment as the city's beer columnist and champion -- his April 1998 expose of the short-measure beer scandal (no sarcasm: it was a damned scandal) at Veterans Stadium -- but gives him the full props he deserves as a champion of Philly's beer scene (maybe a tiny bit too full in a couple spots, but what the hell, Don's a good guy).

But reporter Mark Lisheron puts his finger right on Don with this observation:

Calling Joe Sixpack a beer column is a little like calling Mike Royko's a tavern column or A.J. Liebling a boxing writer. Like all the best columns, Joe Sixpack is about people and place. "He tends to tell Philadelphia stories that just happen to be about beer," former Daily News Editor Zack Stalberg says.
I'll admit: when Russell got his gig at the Daily News, I was jealous. 'Another damned staffer who thinks he can write a beer column because he's had a couple Belgian beers,' I probably said, or something like that. But I read the column every time it came out, and after a while, I realized the same thing Lisheron did: Russell is a story teller, and a good one. He's got a nose for beer news, and he's got a great way of writing about it.

I was critical at first, but that's been a long time ago now. Don Russell and Joe Sixpack are a credit to Philly, and to beer.

Cheers, Joe!

Wood you like another price increase?

Everything...causes cancer.

There's no cure...there's no answer.

I'm thinking of that stunningly depressing Joe Jackson song this morning as I read that in addition to the increases and shortages of malt, hops, and glass, barrels are in short supply. The Scotch whisky industry is booming, and that means the price of used bourbon barrels has gone up steeply -- and the price of used sherry casks is just nuts. Coopers are running flat-out, although high prices don't always mean high profits. Barrel-aged beers could get even more expensive.

Like I keep telling people about the hops shortage: don't expect it to get better real soon.

Jameson 18 Year Old

A few years ago, John Hansell selected Jameson 18 Year Old for one of the Malt Advocate awards. To let me know why, he sent me a 50 ml sample bottle. I was mightily pleased; it was awesome. I saved a bit in the bottle, and I'll be honest with you: occasionally, I just open the bottle and smell the stuff.

Last week an acquaintance sent me a bottle (thanks again, acquaintance). And partly to balance all the time I've been giving Bushmills lately, and partly because whiskey ought to get its due in the mad rush to 365 posts that I'm doing, but mostly because I just can't wait any longer to open it, I thought I'd give you a note on it.

Jameson Master Selection Irish Whiskey 18 Years Old: A Blend. It's a beautiful bottle, really, slender and curvy without being silly. I love the first gluh-gluh-gluh-glugggguhh out of a new bottle of whiskey, the way it catches on the shoulder of the bottle. The 18 is a lustrous gold dram, sparkling in my nosing glass. The aroma is all about malt, and vanilla, and little teasing notes of flowers, full summer flowers. It's sweet, but not perfumey.

Oh, God, that is wonderful, and just as I remember it. This is such juicy stuff, and there's a definite one-two character to it. There's the first pure rush of malt fire, followed by a splash of sweet nectar, like butter candy melted thin and cool, or maybe the lightest, most delicate caramel top on a creme brulee that you can imagine. Jameson is so distinctive, it is one whiskey I do feel confident I'd pick out in a totally blind tasting.

This 18 Year Old in particular is especially delicious: sweet, soft, lyrical, but engagingly multi-layered and rewarding. It is, as I believe John said, almost flawless. I'm going to hide this one away, for when the very best of friends comes over.

John thinks this might be a big year for Irish whiskey. (Looks like this bottling may be undergoing a name change, too.) In the course of writing a piece for Massachusetts Beverage Business, I learned that Irish whiskey's been growing faster than craft beer over the past few years, and that's saying something. I've really discovered Irish whiskey in the past four years, and it's been fantastic. If you don't know Irish, time to get acquainted.

Speaking of madly posting...

Pete Brown's been on a tear recently. After months at sea -- literally -- he's back posting, and suddenly making up for lost time. I've been enjoying hell out of the last week at his blog, called... Pete Brown's Blog. (At this point, if you don't know who I'm talking about, it would be best if you hit that link and read his entire blog, then headed over to Amazon, bought his books (Man Walks Into a Pub and Three Sheets to the Wind, two of the most original books on beer I've read recently, and certainly far and away the funniest), read those, and then come back. I'll wait. If you do know who Pete is, just...go get a beer.)

Done? Well, in the past week or so, Pete's blogged on how binge drinking is down in the UK (and surprise! that decline is getting no press coverage), how boneheads at InBev have driven Stella Artois into the ground (see, Pete, like me, enjoys drinking the occasional Stella and doesn't mind saying so), a great post on taking beer and ourselves too seriously (titled "For Christ's sake, cheer up!"), the upbeat news that Scottish & Newcastle has been bought to be broken up ("It does mean that the likes of Greene King, Fuller's, Wells & Youngs and Marston's are now the largest British brewers. I quite like that."), and the latest, a warning that bloggers are being solicited to write advertorial (thoughtfully tagged with the label "Corporate whoredom").

All in a week. No tasting notes. No ga-ga hand-waving over some new beer from an over-hyped brewery. No bar visits. No pictures of his dog. No re-hashing of other people's postings.

If you're not reading Pete Brown's blog, what the hell's the matter with you?

Monday, January 28, 2008

Ten Fidy Imperial Stout

That is just serious stupid. Y'know? I mean, look at that. It's not just black, it's solid, it's carvable. This is a beer you could take a chisel to. I wonder if I could take a chef's torch to that ruddy head and caramelize it...


Marty Jones, who's been pitching Colorado beer in general and the Oskar Blues Canned Beer Apocalypse in particular for quite a few years, asked me if I would take a look at some of the Beer Drinker of the Year resumes, pick my top three choices to pass along to the semi-finals. Sure, I said, and why don't you see if you can fit a can of Ten Fidy Imperial Stout in there with them? Done, he said, and I sat back and rubbed my hands. And waited. And waited. And figured...oh well, I'll just wait for it to show up next month. Then when I got back from Miami, there was a small box at my maildrop, and in it were ten resumes (some of you guys take this beer shit way too serious... congratulations!) and a can of Ten Fidy and a can of Gordon. Jackpot!

So I put it aside, checked the resumes, did work, dealt with The Tooth, and now, tonight, I'm enjoying it. The aroma has burnt malt, sweet malt, some hints of citrusy hop, and a touch of olive brine that I find in imperial stouts sometimes. There's also some graham cracker and a floaty bit of melon, with just a faint hint of the alcohol power in there. Take a hit: a bit sweet for my tastes in an impie, but it's joyous with it, the burnt bitterness is halved by the malt, and the solid bitterness wicks up all the excess at the end.

One thing I really truly love about this beer is that you know it's an ale. Too many big beers are subjected to clean-as-a-whistle fermentation regimes, as if the brewers were afraid of the identity of their yeast. Embrace it!
However, one thing I really truly do not enjoy about this beer is that sweetness. It's me, I guess, but I do not like the flabby sweetness of too many American imperial stouts. It's popular, and it sells beer, but hell, you could say that about light beer, too. I like a dry, burnt, almost tarry imperial, like Weyerbacher used to make.

Most people don't, though, and if you like something you can really sink your teeth into, an impie that's big and bold and bitter, Ten Fidy will do you right.

Thunder Power

One of the things that first drew me to Baltic porters was their ability to stand up to damned near anything I threw at them. Massive Cuban robusto? (don't ask where I got them; they were actually legal, on a technicality) Okocim Porter took it and smoothed and accentuated it. Fra Diavolo shrimp? My boy Dojlidy could smother that heat while still picking up and cradling the sweetness of the shwimps.

I know you're probably sick to death of hearing about Baltic Thunder, but hey, it's loose in the real world now: this isn't hype, it's after-action reports. Yesterday we were at a good friend's house to partake of a venison bounty his brother-in-law had brought home. He'd made a pork and venison stew, and a ground pork and venison meatloaf (he's Polish, I think he's got bigosh on the brain, but good on him, it was delicious).

And it just got better when I popped open the Thunder and sent it in after the game. Big flavor of venison, sweet flavor of pork, and multi-talented Baltic porter met and mingled, and I had a big happy mouth full of eats and drinks. Baltic porter, when it's the right one, is right up there with Belgian dubbel and Oktoberfest when it comes to making friends with food.

The Colum Egan Interview, Finale

The final installment, in which Sam's burning question on "what really happened in 1608?" is answered. Sorry this took so long. It's a New Year's resolution kept, though.

Part IV

How long have you been bottling the 16 and 21 Year Olds?

Part of being a distiller is that you're always looking ahead, thinking way ahead. Because if someone from marketing or from sales, or someone from a particular market comes to you and says, "Colum, we'd love for you to develop a 16 year old whiskey," I'll say, 'Yeah, okay, hang on, and I'll get you your 16 year old whiskey in 16 years time.' They're not going to be happy.

So as a distiller, you're always trying to innovate, and your innovation, I suppose, the only people privy to your innovation are the people in the distillery itself. We tend not to talk a lot about what's in the pipeline or what's ongoing. When the whiskey is launched, that's when we like to tell the consumers, to tell the public about it.

For the 16 Year Old, we did a lot of work with port casks. Historically, we've done a lot of work with port casks, and we felt it was time in about 1996. It was launched in 1996. It was a great day at the launch, we brought over -- Well, see, we're the distillers. But a key part of the whole distillation process is the maturation, aging the whiskey in the oak barrels. So we actually brought over guys from where we buy the bourbon casks, and we brought over the family from Jerez, in Spain, Antonio Paez, and we brought over Alex Burmester from Portugal.

We all did a little presentation, we talked about how we distill the whiskey, and the barrel suppliers talked about how they season the barrels for us. So it was like one big family, and I think Bushmills really represents a kind of family-friendly, easy-drinking, easy-sipping whiskey. That highlights the virtues that we see, bringing those people to the distillery at that time. Rather than taking all the credit for what was in the bottles, we were very much helped by our barrel suppliers.

Most whiskey drinkers don't realize how much of the flavor comes out of the barrel.

Yeah. And imagine: each year, we lose 2% volume, so at the end of 16 years, there's 32% of that whiskey is missing when you open it up, just gone, disappeared. It's a similar thing with the 21 Year Old. That was launched five years later, in 2001. Again, we'd done some work with Madeira casks. We felt the Madeira would only take six months to --

Let me backtrack a little. The 16 Year Old spends 16 years in either bourbon-seasoned barrels or sherry-seasoned casks. We take the whiskey out of both cask types, and marry them for six months in a port cask. So we thought, okay, 21 years in bourbon, 21 years in sherry, it'll be only 6 months in the Madeira. Wellll... we found out that with six months, we weren't getting the character and the taste that really was necessary for a Bushmills whiskey.

Let me make sure I have this straight. The 16 Year Old is aged in sherry and bourbon casks for 16 years...each.

Right, 16 years, 50/50. At the end of 16 years, take the whiskey out of both cask types, marry it together for six months in port [wood]. The 21 Year Old is 21 years in bourbon and 21 years in sherry.

Half and half, roughly?

Yeah, yeah. At the end of 21 years, we take it out. And when we were trying to develop the whiskey, after six months we said, let's take it out and see what it looks like. We just weren't getting enough contribution from the Madeira. It took 2 years to get the contribution right.

I'm very sorry that my wife and I weren't able to drink enough Bushmills Cream to keep the brand alive, because we did try. Is it really dead and gone?

Yeah. The decision we took was -- it was a nice drink, but demand was waning. We said, we've got no problem making it, but we need a minimum quantity to do a run, to make it consistent quality. We never really got that quantity, after six or nine months, so we're probably not going to. Plus now that we're part of Diageo, why drink anything else but Baileys, right? And Baileys has come out with the two new flavors, the creme caramel and the mint, and the reception has been fantastic.

Well, I thought I'd ask. There was one question I got from the blog: what actually happened in 1608? [Here you go, Sam...]

That's when we got our first license to distill.

From?

From King James I. It was issued to a local landlord, Sir Thomas Phillips.

He was the distiller?

No, at the time they were trying to get taxes in.

That's what it's always about, isn't it.

Yeah, it's all about taxes. He was issued a license to distill in April, 1608. He was allowed to distill whiskey in the region around Bushmills. It was called The Rowte. That was about a 7 mile radius around Bushmills. So 1608 is an important date for us, with 2008 coming up next year, that's 400 celebrations of making whiskey. We'll have celebrations all over. We got together and had a big brainstorming session with all the markets around the world, see what they all wanted. We put all the ideas into a big hat, and we're just trying to pick out the best. It's going to be an exciting time.

That's about all I have. Anything else I should ask?

Well, I've got some good toasts for you. Bushmills is a good toasting whiskey.

May you be poor in misfortune, but rich in blessings.
May you be quick to make friends, and slow to make enemies.
Poorer or richer, quicker or slower,
may you only drink Bushmills from this day forward.

Slainte!

Coach Eddie gives Pittsburgh taverns the "steal" sign

Thanks to Bryan Kolesar, Mr. BrewLounge, for pointing out the latest on the Pittsburgh Drink Tax: Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell was recently doing an interview with KDKA radio in Pittsburgh, and questions on the drink tax led to this exchange about how Philly handled their drink tax, reported by Philadelphia Weekly's Philadelphia Will Do blog:

(Rendell): “We don’t quite enforce in the neighborhood taverns as well as we do in the big hotels and restaurants.”

(Host): “You look the other way, sir?”

(Rendell): “Umm, you can say that.”


There you have it, Pittsburgh: stay under the radar at your local independent tavern!

Sorry. It's kinda funny, but come on: if the tax sucks for the guys at the local tappy, it sucks for everyone. Stop trying to balance the budget on beer-drinkers' backs.

New Drys win major battle -- against deadly mints

I told you about the big mint flap that was roiling the waters of the anti-everything forces. Hershey's Ice Breakers Pacs were deemed to "look like crack," so they had to go. Well, Hershey has knuckled under and killed the product.

I know I'll sleep better tonight. Whew. After all, if it saves just one life, it's worth it.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

The Tooth Lives On

I thought I had my toothache dealt with. Turned out not to be so. It actually was inflamed, so we scheduled a root canal for the morning after I got back from Miami. I took a LOT of ibuprofen in the following 9 days, and ate on the right side of my mouth. Friday morning, I sat down in the chair, fired up my MePod, and gave my dentist the thumbs-up. Y'know...it wasn't that bad. Nowhere near as horrible as my first root canal, 27 years ago. Got it capped, and wow, the pain was gone. I felt like I'd been punched in the face, but only in a beaten around kind of way, not painful.

Then even that went away, and I felt pretty good, until around 8:30 Friday night, when it started to hurt. By 9:00, it felt like someone had cut the cord off a lamp, frayed out the ends, and stuck the live wires into my tooth. I gobbled ibuprofen, and went to bed. I got about three hours of iffy sleep. Got up, left a message for my dentist, and screamed -- literally -- everytime I hit my tooth on something. Like when Penderyn, who was cuddling on my lap, leapt up and cracked me on the chin as he bounded off to greet Cathy. Man, did that hurt.

But Cathy was bearing gifts, drugs that my dentist had called in to the drugstore: penicillin and Vicodin. I was skeptical, but he was right: there was an abscess in the tooth, and a day's worth of penicillin has made an immense difference. I haven't taken anything but ibuprofen today, and only one dose of that. (Yes, I'm going to carefully complete the entire course of penicillin, before any medical types write in to chastise me!) I actually feel pretty good in the tooth today, which is good, because while I'm banging away on the old post-a-day average, I'm also editing the next issue of Malt Advocate. It's going a lot better than it was yesterday!

The Colum Egan Interview, Part III

The third of four installments of the transcribed Colum Egan interview from last March. You'll note that there was a LOT less time elapsed between Part II and Part III than between Parts I and II! I made a bad break last time, so I'm going to repeat the question to get started. I'll have Part IV for you tomorrow; this was just too long to make one post.

Part III
It's not all sherry casks, right?

Right. It's a mix of first-fill and second-fill sherry casks, and some third-fill casks. Your attention has to very high when you use sherry casks, because there's a possibility that you could over-sherry the whiskey, and that's not what we're going for. We're trying to really hone in on the fruitiness, hone in on the light floral notes, the typical house style of Bushmills.

What the sherry casks also give is a lovely softness, and you get this lovely nutty-type sweetness. That's very typical of an oloroso-type sherry, and that's one of the main reasons we use an oloroso sherry cask, as opposed to a fino or any of the other kinds of sherry.

Is there grain whiskey in this? (I held up my glass of Black Bush, severely depleted by this time.)

Yeah, there is. Bushmills Original is a blended whiskey. There's probably a higher single malt content in Bushmills Original then there is in a lot of blends available in the world, from both Ireland and Scotland. But in terms of Black Bush, there's actually a special grain whiskey in it, that's really only made for Black Bush. We do put a small amount of it also into Original. Some of that grain's actually made in a copper pot still, which is a very unusual way to make grain whiskey. It's got a fantastic texture, fantastic mouthfeel, and it's got a character and a taste that, really, we could probably bottle it on its own.

That's what it sounds like...

Well, I don't want to give away too many secrets, but that could be coming down the road, you know?

Well, that's my next question: what's coming down the road?

We've been making whiskey longer than anyone else, we've been making whiskey in the Bushmills area for more than 400 years, and naturally, being Irish, we've been making whiskey a lot longer than that and my God, it just took them a few hundred years to catch up with us.

The history of whiskey-making in the Bushmills area dates all the way back to the 1100s, when King Henry II brought his troops to Ireland. The local spirit, they called it uisce beatha [he says something like "eesh-kee ba'a ha"], that means "water of life." They [the English] weren't able to pronounce the Gaelic, so they started to call it fuisce ["fwish-ke'h"]. That's the modern word "whiskey," just without the 'f'. What I'm claiming is that the 'e' at the end of "fuisce" is very important, because that's the right way to spell whiskey. [Both laugh.] I'm sticking with that story.
[That really was the answer he gave to that question. Later in the interview he specifically says they don't like to talk about what's in the pipeline: guess not!]

The 16 Year Old and the 21 Year Old are both "three wood" whiskeys, is that correct?

Yeah. We have a range. We have the Bushmills Original and Black Bush, obviously, and then we have three single malts --

Which of those is the best seller in the U.S. market, overall, the Original or the Black Bush?

The Bushmills Original. The Original outsells all four of the others combined, it's that popular. I think it's a lot because of its versatility.

Is that new packaging on the Original?

Yeah, yeah. That white label, you put it on a back bar and you'll just spot it right away. That was about 9 months ago [July, 2006], when we became part of the Diageo family. One of the first things Diageo wanted to do was to emphasize a lot of characteristics of Bushmills that were neglected for years under the previous owner. The Bushmills name is more prominent now; it's a name that's synonymous with quality. If you ask people in Ireland what's the best quality whiskey, they'll all say Bushmills. Unfortunately, they'll probably go away and buy something else! What they do is, they keep it for special occasions. Don't keep it for special occasions, treat yourself all the time!

We also have single malts. Single malts are 10, 16, and 21 [Years Old]. You notice the nice light gold color on the 10 Year Old, and if you look at the packaging, it's actually matured in two woods. The light color is a giveaway. Whiskey with a light color tends to be whiskey that's matured in bourbon barrels. You see whiskey from Scotland or Ireland that's a light color, you pretty much know it's either old casks or it was matured in bourbon barrels. Bourbon-seasoned casks don't give up much color to the whiskey, whereas, when you go on to the 16 and 21 year old, they're much deeper in color.

What we do with the 10 Year Old though, we mature, or age, a portion of it, just a small amount, in sherry-seasoned casks, just to give it a hint of that sweetness. But the overwhelming characteristic of the 10 Year Old is like vanilla and milk chocolate; it really is like a melted milk chocolate bar on your tongue, and you get a nice sweet, kind of dry aroma in the back of your mouth on the finish.

A lot of whiskeys are described as being malty, whiskeys from Ireland and Scotland. If you want to pick up what that malty character is like, and what it smells like, you really should nose a Bushmills 10 Year Old Original. It's unmasked by any smokiness, unmasked by any peat, it's distilled three times, so you're really getting back to the grain, the malted barley we use in the first place.

As you know, whiskey's very natural: we only use water, we only use malted barley. We get the extract and ferment it with yeast, and distill it to bring it up from 8%. In Ireland, we bring it all the way up to 85% on the third distillation, and then mature it.

[That's it for now...see you tomorrow...]

Brewers deserve to get paid

Don't worry, this isn't a screed about beer prices being too low. It's about beer prices being non-existent. I'm talking about brewers being asked -- forced -- to donate beer to beer festivals.


Folks, if you're unaware of this, it happens all the time. There are parts of the country where beer festivals do regularly pay brewers for the beer that they pour, but there are also places where that's not how the game is played. Brewers are invited to festivals, some of which are for charities, some of which are not (and as one brewer I'm friends with says, "Just because it's your charity doesn't mean it's my charity."), and then told how much beer they're going to be bringing and not getting paid for. People are paying for tickets, people are paying for food, people are paying for breweriana, t-shirts, pint glasses, and everything else, but the brewers aren't getting paid for their beer.

Why do they do this? The festival promoters know that for the larger brewers -- craft and not-so-craft -- it's a write-off, a promotional expense they're more than happy to pay. I know it's the case for large spirits companies: they're happy to bring booze to festivals because sampling is the most effective way to sell a good product.

And let's be deadly honest: larger breweries often give free beer to retail accounts. It's illegal in the U.S., but it happens every week: bars order three kegs and get four, they take a competitor off-tap and get X number of free kegs. I've talked to brewers who've seen it, I've talked to retailers who've had it offered. It doesn't get prosecuted because no retailer is going to rat it out...and kill the goose that lays the golden kegs. Is this news to anyone? The same kind of spending drives free beer at festivals.

Smaller brewers are working on much smaller margins and overall budgets, and four half-barrels means some real money to them. Why do they do it? They feel they have to. And festival promoters -- charitable and profitable alike -- will tell them about the "exposure" they're getting. As Jerry Bailey, the former prez of Old Dominion once told me, "exposure" is a bad word when you're talking about getting caught outside. I've had people ask me to do events for free because it would be "great exposure!" Hey, you know what? I'm so damned exposed already that I'm naked and shivering, I don't need more of it!

What really torques me about this is how many times there is entertainment at these events, and they're getting paid! No one ever suggests to the band or DJ that playing at the beer festival will be great exposure so they should do it for free. Because they wouldn't do it.

There are responsible festivals. Jim Anderson's events in Philadelphia were always paid-beer events. The Alström Brothers have told me that their BeerAdvocate events are all paid-beer events. There are also some fests that are put in a tough position by screwy local laws, where buying the beer would jeopardize or cancel their permit: the better fests of this type compensate by throwing the brewers free room and board. But some fests don't even give the brewers free parking, fergodssake.

You know what? There are a LOT of festivals out there these days. Beer festivals are popular. Wanna bet you and I now know one big reason why? Low overhead. Do yourself and your local brewer a favor: start asking questions the next time, before you buy tix for a beer festival. "Is the beer at this fest paid for?" "What's the charity? What percentage of the take do they get?"

And if you're a brewer? Look, if you like the charity, or if the venue's a really cool place you like visiting, or if the festival really is right smack-dab in the middle of your target audience (and they haven't already all tasted your beer), okay, you're an adult, make your decision. But think about that "naked and shivering" line. How "exposed" do you want to be? If they're not going to respect you...why respect them?

New England Sea Hag IPA

The legend of the Sea Hag? Bogus, according to Fortune. Excellent book material, according to me. But really...who the hell wants read it when they can drink it instead?

New England Brewing has revived under the can-filling hands of Rob Leonard. I remember drinking my share (and more) of the brewery's excellent oatmeal stout and stock ale back in the late 1980s and early 1990s; my first and only tour of the Norwalk brewery in 1993 was when I met Phil Markowski, who was the head brewer at the time. The brewery flailed and failed, Leonard bought the rights and recipes in 2001, and started canning soon afterwards.

Sea Hag IPA was not one of the recipes he bought. That was created in 2006. I realized tonight, as I was casting about for something to post about to make my goal of an average of a post a day for my first year of blogging (you can make up for lost time), that while I've talked about the other three canned beers I took along over New Year's Day -- Oskar Blues Old Chub, and Sly Fox Pikeland Pils and Phoenix Pale Ale, I hadn't said a word about the Sea Hag. Happily I had two cans left in my frigid garage, so bang, done! I popped one and poured it into the slick Budweiser gimme glass I got at the Cheers Conference last week (we got a lot of glasses: this was the only one I didn't leave in the hotel room, it just felt good in my hand...I mean, is anyone surprised that A-B can afford a nice glass?).

Sea Hag is coppery-translucent, which kind of gives you that premonition that it's chock-full of hop-stuff. The nose confirms it: citrus/grapefruit/orange, with a strong underlying juicy malt sweetness. The body's rather light, which I guess surprises me: this is more in the light-framed IPA category where I place Bell's Two-Hearted, but it's not as brisk as Bell's. The hops are definitely bitter-forward, maybe a bit too blaring, but the malt sweetness, even in the light-bodied frame, puts the contrast to it. As we noted in Virginia, the Hag is awfully drinkable, sliding down pretty quickly. And wow, some of the best hop belches I've had in a while. (Don't go "eeeewww!", you know what I'm talking about!)

Verdict: good, even very good, but not great. The aroma's real nice, and I like the light body, but there's just something a bit rough about the way this one integrates. Might be better on tap, and I look forward to trying that. Because, you know, "very good" sure ain't bad at all.

Dump the Pittsburgh Drink Tax!

Do you remember when I urged Pennsylvanians to contact your state legislators to stop the "poured drink tax" in Pittsburgh? Do you remember how some of the liars on the Allegheny County Council said it was "just an enabling bill," and there might not even be a drink tax, so why be against it?

Yeah. Well, they got their 10% "poured drink tax," which was immediately interpreted to include take-out six-packs bought at taverns (I'm shocked, shocked, I tell you). But surprise, surprise, the tax has turned out to be pretty damned unpopular, and opposition is not only increasing, but it looks like there might be a serious shot at repealing the tax.

The group that is coordinating the efforts, FACT (Friends Against Counterproductive Taxation), needs money to keep pushing the fight. They're having a fund-raiser at the Church Brew Works on February 11th, 5:30 to 9:30. Tickets are $40 (available at the FACT website and the Penn Brewery website), which gets you fresh craft beers from the Church, Penn, East End, and the Rivertown Pour House, and -- big guys hate taxes, too -- Blue Moon; you'll also get savory food provided by the city’s best chefs, and local entertainment playing original music, including the "NoDrinkTax Jig" by Terry Griffith. There's also a silent auction of gift baskets planned. Wow...sounds just like the fundraisers at my church, except the beer's better!

I do not know the people in FACT, but if the people at those four breweries are supporting it, that's good enough for me. Besides...$40 for a mini-fest with food and music at the Church, and a chance to shake your fist and thumb your nose at County Council? How can you lose?!

Coole Swan

I get samples. I write stories. Sometimes, the two intersect.

I had a story to do on Irish spirits for Massachusetts Beverage Business for the March issue (of course, when else would you do an Irish spirits story?), and I remembered a press release we got at Malt Advocate for a new Irish cream liqueur, Coole Swan. Always looking for stuff other writers don't get, you know, it makes me more valuable to my editors, so I contacted the Coole Swan people. They're coming to the Massachusetts market in the Fall (Coole Swan is only available in New York for now), so I set up an interview. Pretty interesting people, very experienced, and -- here's the key point -- experienced with Baileys.

Baileys is the iconic brand of Irish creams, the original, and by far the best-seller: it's actually the 7th best-selling spirit in the world. The road behind it is littered with the crushed remnants of attempts to siphon off some of its share of the market. I was skeptical of Coole Swan's chances. But the folks who created the drink are all Baileys graduates who looked at that brand and saw an opportunity; not to come in under Baileys and try to catch people who wanted to pay less for an Irish cream, but to look at Irish cream as a luxury drink, and pitch above Baileys.

They did everything they could to make the very best Irish cream they could: Madagascar vanilla, Cote d'Ivoire chocolate, and single malt Irish whiskey. They put a lot into the design of the bottle, including making it translucent and not at all shaped like a Baileys bottle, which most competitors have slavishly imitated. And there's not caramel coloring: Coole Swan looks like cream. "We bought the best fresh Irish cream we could find," a partner told me, "why would we want to hide it?"

Well, it's all very interesting. But it doesn't mean anything if the stuff's no good. I'll make no secret of it: I like Irish cream. I really liked the Bushmills cream, for a large part because you could actually taste the whiskey in it. So when an unsolicited bottle of Coole Swan showed up in my mailbox (after the story had already been written and submitted), it was right in the fridge pretty soon thereafter. Cathy and I had some when she got home from work Friday. Now that things have calmed down a bit on a Sunday afternoon, I thought I'd take the leisurely chance to write about it.

It is just a touch on the tan side of cream, I assume from the chocolate (and it is real chocolate and cocoa, I was assured, not flavors). The aromas promise just what you read and just what you'll taste: whiskey, vanilla, chocolate, and a creamy milkiness. When you sip, you find out that they weren't kidding about the whiskey. It has not been cleverly hidden; they're proud of what they're putting in here and the whiskey is bright and vibrant in the cream. But the cream's there too: it's rich, and chocolatey, and coats the mouth without being disgusting. And it most definitely does not taste fakey at all.

I'm not going to drink Irish cream every day, or even every week. But when I do want one, I'm going to reach for this till it's empty, and when I'm next in New York, I'm going to make sure there's room in my bag to bring one home: prices are running around $25.

Blog Birthday Coming Up...

Seen Through A Glass will celebrate its one year anniversary on Thursday, January 31st. One year ago I opened with this post, and with very little thought beforehand -- I thought up the name of the blog while I was writing the post, having suddenly realized it should have a name -- laid out these goals:

I'll be using this for quick stuff. Mostly, to start with, STAG is going to be a place to start up my Session Beer Project (more on that shortly). So I'll be doing a lot more quick tasting notes and short rants, as that hits me. It's going to be as informal as "The Latest" is...okay, was on my site, when I was keeping up with it. The idea for the blog is short, sharp, and frequent writing. I want to keep up on local stuff, too: local to southeast PA and the adjoining states. I dropped the ball on local news last year, and I want to get back up to speed; here's where it's happening.

How'd I do? Pretty well, so far.

Session Beer Project: currently a bit low, but the SBP was definitely a success, with mentions in several publications (notably the recent Imbibe article on session beers and in Eric Asimov's New York Times blog, The Pour) and great response from brewers and drinkers. I've committed to revving that back up, and you'll see that.

Tasting Notes: Over 50 beer and whiskey and cider notes posted so far, and I'm falling into a new format for them -- I call it "The New York Review of Beers style -- that I like. I'm going to get the "tasting note" tag on all of them, too, so you can -- if you want... -- find them easier. (Did that, and there turns out to be 71, counting the ones embedded in other posts.)

Short rants: could do better on this one. I'm happy with the ranting I've done, but I could do more.

"The Latest": Probably the most successful part of the blog, I've posted a lot of bar and brewery reports. Probably the most annoying part of the blog: I've been bad about completing multi-day trips and visits. I'll work on that.

Local news: Better, but I'm still working on that.

What I would like to do, and it's a bit quixotic, is get 365 posts on the board before January 30 is over, to bring my average up to a post a day. This is post #349, so I've got 16 posts to do in four days, while keeping up with a fair amount of scheduled, paying work. Certainly doable...the hard part is making them worthwhile! Expect some long-delayed tasting notes, the completion of the Colum Egan interview, and -- with luck -- some site reports.

Buckle up.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Burns Night Dinner

We went to a Burns Night dinner tonight at friends of ours in Lambertville, NJ. We, ah, didn't do any of the prescribed stuff: no piping of the haggis, no poetry, no singing, no Selkirk Grace. We did have music (about half the folks there were musicians; fiddle, guitar, bodhran, penny whistle, mandolin), however, and of course we had plenty to drink.

I took a couple six-packs of Old Chub (always delicious, full, malty, sweet, wonderful), a bottle of Balvenie 25 Year Old (which we didn't get to, dammit), a bottle of Rittenhouse Rye 23 Year Old (which I found I liked more than last year's 21 Year Old: woody, but still quite spicy, and possessed of a minty coolness), and a standard bottling of Glenlivet which I'd obviously let sit, never opened, way too long -- I opened it to use in a Honey and Whiskey Cake to take along, and the cork just crumbled. Okay, I stuck a wine stopper in it, and sat in on the table at the dinner and said, 'ye mus' drink it all!' That's Scottish, and that's nae crap.

It was an excellent time, and made up for missing the Burns Night at Sly Fox last night. We tasted a six year old mystery malt from 'a Lowland distillery' (it's a Signatory bottling; anyone know if this is Glenkinchie or Auchentoshan? I was guessing Auchentoshan), a 10 yr old Auchentoshan, and a 10 yr old Glenkinchie. I also got some of the Tuthilltown Hudson Baby Bourbon 4-Grain, and...I think I'll wait till production has been going on a while longer before trying it again.

The main opinion I shared with our hosts is that we should get together to drink a dram or four more often; the typical reaction to a Burns Night dinner. Now...to execute on that...

The Can Can; a wide-ranging rant taking off from the Craft Beer Apocalypse

Forgot to note the arrival of last week's Condé Nast Portfolio column on canning craft beer. Hats off to Dale Katechis and Oskar Blues for really launching the popular movement of canning craft beer. Other craft brewers have done it before, and a growing number since, but none before launched themselves headlong into it, and with such unself-conscious promotion.

And yeah, in this case, "unself-conscious promotion" was a good thing. Cask Brewing Systems, the company that introduced small-scale canning lines, deserves credit for making it possible, but Oskar Blues kicked it over the top by launching the marketing campaign they call the Canned Beer Apocalypse. It pays to recall that Katechis became aware of the new canning technology by reading an advertising brochure from Cask.

We have got to get over the idea that advertising and promotion are bad things. Like other examples in the Craft Beer Revolution (lagers suck, big breweries always make sucky beer), dumping on those who advertise is an overreaction to the deep bias against the Cerberus of macrobrewing, the BudMillCoors Juggernaut. Jim Koch dared to market and was reviled for it.

We, the geekerie, still don't seem to see the need for it. "If you brew it, they will come" is our simple watchword, but it just ain't so. I remember Chris Trogner at Tröegs telling me in 2006 , "We've been here for 9 years, and we still get people in on Saturday tours, people from [the local area], who say "Oh, hey, a new microbrewery! When did you guys open!" They didn't even know we were here." Tröegs is in plenty of local bars, available at all the local beer stores.

People aren't stupid, but neither are businesses that advertise: advertising works, if only to make people aware that you're there. There's good advertising, and there's lies on wheels. It continues to frustrate me to see the geekerie dismayed when they see ads from micros...although given their small slice of the market, you wouldn't think it would matter.

Thing is...the geekerie and their opinions do matter. I have pointed out how small a percentage of craft beer sales come from the dedicated geekerie, I have decried their demands that brewers brew more big/extreme beers as unreasonable, I have questioned the impact of online "reviews" and complaints. I'm right, but I'm wrong, too.

The geekerie do have an impact on craft brewing; it's real, it's constant, and if anything, it's growing. The reason is simple: who owns craft breweries, who runs craft breweries, who makes the craft beer? Geeks. Not all of them, for sure, but mostly, these are people who got into this biz because they love beer in a strongly wacky way. I know I did, and I know that most of the people I interview did.

So when I say that geeks only buy a small percentage of total output, that geeks' opinions are just those of a tiny part of the market... it's correct, but it overlooks the strong influence exerted through moral persuasion. Geeks are the reminder to the brewer of the kinds of beers they should be making to stay true to their passion. They are the voice of conscience, that may, at times, go over the top, but is always there to remind you of what you want to be.

And they appear to like craft beer in a can, so I guess it passes the geek test.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Chick's Cafe

I've been meaning to stop in at Chick's Cafe for a while now, another one of the third wave of beer bars (second wave? fifth wave?) that has been cropping up, like South Philly Tap Room and Royal Tavern. Well... It's not really a beer bar, which is the cool thing: they think they're a wine bar, and what they really are is...a cafe that gets the importance of good drinks. Anyway, when I found out that my old friend Katie Loeb was doing the wine and making cocktails there, I stoked the address into the GPS to be ready for the right time.

The right time came tonight. I got in on-time from Miami, my bag was the 7th one out of the baggage carousel, and I walked right out of the terminal into the open door of my parking shuttle...only to find when I got to the Passat that traffic was backed up on 95 North. I fired up the GPS, and took off across the Platt Bridge, headed for Broad Street. I was parked outside Chick's about 15 minutes later.

Very impressive place. Just a little corner bar, but a classic: pressed tin walls and ceiling, sharp carved backbar, period light fixtures... Oh, the booze? Excellent. Katie was behind the bar and greeted me with open arms. I asked her to make me a Sazerac cocktail -- it's become a yardstick for me -- and it was good, just maybe a bit heavy on the Peychaud bitters -- but did you see that? She had Peychaud, she had Herbsaint. She's working with an exceptional set of spirits, a cocktail artist's set of spirits, including the first bottle of Laird's Apple Brandy I've seen on a bar (she's making cocktails with it, too, and I can only imagine how good they must smell).

It was a cold night, and I was hungry, so I got an app plate of cauliflower gratin, made with fontine, parmesan, and taleggio. Delicious, not watery, not gooey, just the thing.

But the beer... Here's the taps: O'Reilly's Stout, Sprague Hellbender Porter, Stoudt's Old Abominable, Peak Organic Nut Brown, St. Druon French Abbey (some of you old school beer geeks may remember this as Sebourg, it's been re-labeled, but still just as good), 90 Minute IPA, and Peroni. But the bottles are really something: Gale's 2001 Christmas Ale, Samichlaus, Alhambra Negro, La Choulette Framboise, De Dolle Dulle Teve, St. Bernardus 8, Haandbryggeriet Norwegian Wood, La Rullés Cuvée Meilleurs Voeux, Thieriez Extra, and Birrifico Malthus Baluba; they also had a bottle of Spanish cider.

Quite impressive, and I can't tell you how good it is to see a place with a carefully made selection that is not what everyone else has! Fairly reasonable prices, too: my Sazerac was two bucks less than the abomination I had in Louisville last fall. The menu was very interesting, with an interesting structure, and a good selection of cheese plates. I think we're going to have to come down for dinner pretty soon. Can't wait to see what the beer will have evolved to by then.

Miami: Day Two

I got up Wednesday morning about 7 AM. Showered, dressed, headed downstairs to grab a quick breakfast and get ready for my presentation: "Make Every Beer Count." I caught the people setting up just in time to stop them from putting out glasses: I had tasting mats to designate the beers to be served as A B C. We did that, and poured beers: A and C were Bud Light, B was Coors Light. I wanted to do a "triangle trial" in which people were invited to sample three beers that were actually two beers. The whole idea was to get people out of thinking of beers as brands and get them thinking of beers as categories. This may sound elementary, but to a bar that doesn't get it, it's like hieroglyphics.

I did the presentation, it was well-received (the tasting went well, except for the few people who over-analyzed and decided that I'd actually put out three glasses of the same beer), and I felt pretty good. I went to Steve Beaumont's seminar in the next session; he'd attended my 9:00 session. He had a fresh look at promoting the idea of food and beer pairings that had a lot of folks taking notes, including me.

After we partook of the free conference lunch (What's lunch today, we asked the waitress: "Meat. I'm pretty sure it's meat."), I proposed that we catch a cab over to Miami Beach and visit The Abbey, a kind of contract-brewed brewpub: they have their beers brewed for them at a Florida micro, have done so for years, at three different breweries. Patrick Jones, the brewer at Triumph Old City, used to be the brewer at the Gordon Biersch here in Miami, and told me about The Abbey and their big beers and the hours he used to spend at their small, comfortable bar. He made me promise I'd go, and he made it sound real nice, so we did.

After a harrowing, nonconfidence-inspiring cab ride through rain and over bridges, we arrived at Abbey. It was indeed a small place -- the picture at the left shows about 2/3 of the place, and the rest of it is one table and the keg cooler (short runs on the taps, too). The only other person in the place was the bartender, Aaron, who got us two glasses of their IPA (Maggie had a glass of cabernet that she declined to finish). It was...okay. Drinkable, but some mineraly funk going on.

We decided to switch to the Imperial Stout: good call. This was definitely better, real nice, actually, with real ale fruitiness to it, big body, and some of that burnt bitterness I like in an Impie. I got a glass of "Brother Aaron's Quadrupel" after that, which was quite big, and maybe had a touch too much sour edge to the fruitiness -- but maybe not. I liked it, and happily finished it. Then we had a lighter round: I got a Kostritzer, Steve got a Spaten Ofest. Maggie was happily plugging away at the bottled Strongbow she'd found on the menu, and had demolished two chicken empenadas.

We were enjoying ourselves in a place that Aaron reminded us was emphatically not "Miami Beach." Indeed, not a club atmosphere at all. As he said, if you blacked out the front window, you'd never know you were in Miami Beach, the place felt more like a Chicago or Philly bar. We relaxed, we drank, we rattled on about how rambling beer people tend to be when telling stories -- and interruptive, too: I think all three of us were in the middle of telling a story at one point -- and how that's what people want to hear from us: stories, stray interesting thoughts, that kind of thing.

Eventually we had to go. We walked up to the corner, and after I'd done a really stupid thing at Dunkin Donuts that almost got me a stop-and-search from two Miami-Dade cops, we grabbed a cab and had a much quicker ride back to the hotel. We met back in my room, and then went down to the cocktail party. We drank some delish cocktails, ate more "meat" (okay, it was actually really good tenderloin, chorizo, and crab cakes), and talked some business and pleasure. It was good to finally meet the Cheers staff after writing for them for five years.

After that, Steve and Maggie and I went out to dinner -- we were amazed to get the same scary cab driver we'd had that afternoon -- that led off with some delicious raw Blue Points. More fun, and then we went back to the hotel, end of the day. Great time, overall, fun town, if a bit tough to walk in. Thanks to Cheers for the opportunity.

But you know what? We never did get to any mojito bars. Dammit.

Full Sail Slipknot IIPA

Stephen Beaumont and Maggie stopped at my room last night for a few drinks before we went down to the close-up cocktail party for the Cheers Conference. I wanted to show off my new portable speakers (a JBL OnTour set I got for Christmas, powered by 4 AAAs or an AC adaptor, sleek look, nice carrying bag, and great sound for the size): Stephen and I were on a trip in Germany three years ago and kept trying to get some kind of bus-filling sound out of laptop speakers, at which point I swore I'd find something that sounded good and was easily portable: these do the trick. He and Maggie agreed, and we had them hooked up to Maggie's slick little Sony mp3 player in a jiffy.

We hate going dry, so I hustled up some ice and Stephen dumped in some beers he had along for tasting. I sipped some Michael Collins Irish whiskey while we waited for them to chill -- it was the blended, and it was fine tasting stuff; like Stephen said, I was prepared to not like Michael Collins for a variety of political reasons -- none of them Irish, but let's not go into it -- but it's too good to not like.

Anyway, one of the beers he brought down was Full Sail Slipknot Imperial IPA, a new beer in their Brewmaster Reserve series. It was fully assertive, if not aggressive. The hopping was solid, but more full than edgy, if that makes sense: it was a swelling full current of hops, rather than a slashing whack of hops, a juggernaut of hop flavor without being a beast of bitterness. It was also quite drinkable, and -- not to brand it with a word that seems to be the kiss of death for a certain class of beer geek -- mightily balanced for an IIPA. I mean, a battleship is balanced, right? So's Slipknot.

I found myself wishing he'd brought another bottle. Or two.

Updated Philly Beer Week: what I'm doing, what I'm not doing

UPDATE: the Philly Beer Week calendar is updated and working; thanks to all involved. Here is what I'm doing, and what I am NOT doing, all in one spot.

First off, I am not doing the Main Line Beer Tour. I'm disappointed, but we just couldn't pull things together in a timely manner: there's a lot involved in a multi-stop tour. Next year: better planning, better ideas, better event. If you saw the event and planned to attend, I apologize.

What I am doing starts on Saturday, March 8th. I'll be hosting a Breakfast of Beer Champions, an all wheat beer brunch at the renowned Grey Lodge Pub in Northeast Philly. That starts at 11 AM. So far the only thing that's definite is syrup for your pancakes made from reduced Victory Moonglow...but I think you'll agree that it's a hell of a start. Price: pay as you go.

That night I'll be presenting "Porter v. Stout: a bright dark line" at the Tria Fermentation School. I'll be taking everything I've learned from reading Ron Pattinson and Martyn Cornell's excellent blogs and spreading the New Word on the evolution of porter and stout, the differences between them, and generally celebrating the differences and diversity of the spectrum of dark ales. Starting time is 6:30 -- plenty of time to get in a little education before heading out. Price: ticket, TBD

Sunday March 9th will see me back at the Grey Lodge for an Upstate Beer and Game Dinner. Scoats has found a source for game, which we think will make a great pairing and match-up for beers from an array of small breweries from upstate Pennsylvania that only the author of Pennsylvania Breweries could bring you. Price: ticket, TBD

I'm working on putting together an event for Monday night ... more about that later this week. Should be fun, at a venue which has been slipping in some very interesting beers under the Philly Beer Radar.

I may or may not have an event Wednesday: again, more later.

Thursday is a big night for you fellow fans of lager: Executive brewer Jay Misson and I are putting together a big Pilsner Gala at Triumph Old City. We'll have at least two pilsners from Triumph, including their luscious Kellerbier, at least one pilsner from Sly Fox, Victory, and Troegs, and Carol Stoudt said she'd try to get us a special keller version of Stoudt's Pils. That's what we've got so far...we're working on more. While you delight in the astonishing variation in this vastly under-regarded beer type, feast on authentic German schmankerl, the beer hall snacks we love so much. This will run from 6 to 10 PM: pay as you go.

Friday I'm staying home to watch my daughter in her school play. Any brewers or distillers want to donate anything for the fund-raiser?

My last event is Sunday the 16th: an all-Pennsylvania beer brunch at Fork. Naturally I'm excited to be doing a beer event at one of Philly's top restaurants. I hope you'll be able to join us before calling an end to your Philly Beer Week; we start at 11. Price: TBD

That's what I have so far. I hope to have at least one more event, hopefully one in the suburbs. Please remember: this is Philly Beer Week's first year. We hope to have more people and more venues involved next year, and we will inevitably be more organized next year. Figuring out all this stuff the first time is tough, and we're learning as we go. I hope you can join me for at least one of my events; please contact the venues for more information about times, places, and costs.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Miami: everything they promised

After an uneventful flight, I landed in Miami yesterday at 12:45 PM. There was an event at that point: we were held on the plane as a "security officer" came on the plane and escorted a young couple off -- no problem, no hassle -- after which we were told to stay on the plane. It was so the Miami-Dade cops could arrive: we were searched on the way off the plane, bags and bodies. Yow.

So then I hiked a ride down into Miami with my luggage -- a nice rollie duffle I got from the Red Cross for donating platelets -- looking at all the high-rises and cranes. Man, this town is growing! I got to the Hyatt Regency, checked in, and registered for the Cheers Conference. The conference is an educational thing, not a trade show, so there was no big vendor room: it's all seminars. I got my badge and went right into a session on up-selling; a statistical marketing info session, on why people did or did not order more expensive drinks. Some interesting insights, but I kept wondering who the people were who'd been surveyed; they came up with some dopey answers.

After that, I went up to my room and practiced my presentation: "Make Every Beer Count: Pleasing the new beer customer." It's about looking at beer as a set of categories, rather than as clumps of brands, how to get more choices into the same cold storage space. Hope they like it when I present it in a couple hours.

At 6:00, they made awards presentations to businesses, and opened the cocktail lounge. I grabbed a quick glass of Stella ("Oh, for a camera; Lew drinking Stella," says Stephen Beaumont when he saw me with it), followed that with a Michelob in a gorgeous thin-walled pilsner glass, and then had a Ward 8, an old classic cocktail, updated with a dollop of pomegranate molasses: quite good. Then it was a healthy-tasting beauty made with the new Rangpur gin, key lime juice, and champagne, topped with mint and cucumber -- at least, I think that's what it was. It's not that I was getting tipsy, it's that there were two very similar cocktails being made, and I'm not sure which one I got: it was very loud and crowded. That's why I stepped outside and sipped this last one while looking at the two big motor yachts tied up at the hotel's quay: hired by Red Bull and Leblon as floating parties. I didn't go on board, just watched the beautiful people and called home.

At 7:30, I joined the Cheers magazine staff and a couple other freelancers for dinner. They took us to VIX, the restaurant at the Victor Hotel in South Beach. Very nice, very interesting, but so dark we were reduced to passing around flashlights to read the menu. Wow, got some good stuff, though. We shared some apps: tuna tartare, lobster ceviche, and foie gras ice cream. Really. It came interleaved with mango syrup, and it was so good I laughed out loud: Wow! Dinner was delish: lobster and Hong Kong duck chow mein, with the freshest damned bean sprouts I ever had. I finished up with a glass of tawny port for dinner. What a great day and night. Cheers, Miami.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Flying to Miami

I'll be out of the icebox the next couple days. After two days of overnight temps in the teens, I'm flying to Miami tomorrow for the Cheers Conference. Wednesday morning I'm presenting a seminar on beer category management for the on-premise operator; in English, that means how to get the right beers into your coldbox. After work's over, I'll be hitting the mojito bars with Stephen Beaumont and his girl Maggie.

Don't wait up for us.

One Guy Opening

I don't post press releases here, but this is an exception:

NE Pennsylvania’s newest brewery to open Saturday

BERWICK, PA (January 21, 2008): One Guy Brewing Company, located at 328 W. Front St., Berwick PA 18603 will host its Grand Opening on Saturday January 26th. The “first keg”, a traditional German wood barrel, will be tapped at 1:00 pm.

One Guy Brewing was founded by beer industry veteran Guy Hagner. The name reflects the nature of the operation—from Brewmaster to Glass Washer, Hagner is the sole employee. “This business is a dream come true,” states Hagner. “My main focus is to brew a wide variety of fresh, delicious beers for local beer lovers.”

The brewery is very small—2 barrels (62 gallons) per batch, and initially all sales will be conducted through the brewery’s on-site taproom. Customers are able to enjoy a glass in the taproom and can purchase a growler (1/2 gallon refillable bottle) of brewery-fresh beer to take home.
Congratulations, Guy!

Uncle Jack's On Board

Kicking and screaming, much as I did, Uncle Jack has joined the Beer Bloggers. There's not much to see just yet, but I know Jack. Not a thought will go unuttered now that it's so easy to do so. I'm not sure we're ready for 24-Hour Curtin...but it will be fun to find out.

Welcome to blogging, Jack: see you at The Session.

Salt

There's just something about the savor of salt in the midst of sweet. I'm enjoying a dark chocolate-covered pretzel, one of the last of a small box my wife got me for Christmas, the product of a local chocolatier, Newtown Chocolates (if you're local, they're worth a trip: very nice). I don't know if chocolate-covered pretzels are a Pennsylvania thing, but if they are, the rest of you are missing something. The crunch of the pretzel is great, the dark chocolate is delish, but the thing that makes it is the unexpected hit of salt in the middle when I bite a crystal on the pretzel. It makes the whole sweetness even better, even tastier.

I get the same thing in my wife's state fair-winning molasses cookies (really, they were, she was in 4H). Your basic molasses cookie is good, but the small dose of salt in hers makes things all the more so.

If you're waiting for me to turn this into something on beer or whiskey, I don't have it. I was eating a chocolate pretzel, and thought about how the salt contrast works with Cathy's molasses cookies too, and here we are. Maybe there's something about how the bitter and sweet in beer work, or the sweet and tannic components of whiskey come together...but right now? I'm just finishing up my pretzel.

Green Flash IPA; Ridgeway IPA

Cathy and I took her brother Curt out to Teresa's Next Door on Saturday night. Curt was down visiting from where he lives, near Rochester, NY. He's a chef, and had a rare weekend off, so it was nice that he and my nephew Patrick spent it with us. We got Chinese for the kids and headed off for Wayne.

We found a spot on Wayne Ave. right in front of the Wooden Iron...had to be fate. I whined until Cathy and Curt agreed to go in for a pre-prandial drink. I got Redbreast, Cathy got a glass of a very nice Shiraz, and Curt got a Hoegaarden, and we talked with the bartender, Dave, an old friend from his days at Gullifty's. Dave's going bold next month: he's going to replace his whole tap selection with "all Victory, all the time." Five or six Victory beers will be the draft beers at the Iron. Ballsy. Dave said his wine and spirits sales have reached the point that even if the Victory experiment is a crashing disaster, he'll survive.

On to Teresa's, where we met Matt "Beer Yard" Guyer -- we'd called him from the road and invited him up to join us for a beer. I was determined to stick to that New Year's resolution, and ordered a Green Flash IPA (Stan? You see this? Green Flash IPA, Stan). It was everything I've come to expect from this beer: breathtaking, assertive, clean as fresh snow, and whip-sharp with classic American hops, piney, pungent, almost puckery, but with enough malt background to keep things lucidly drinkable. I'm not really a big fan of shipping beer all over God's green earth (I'd rather be shipping me all over to drink it fresh), but they can send this East any time they want, and thanks.

What to have next? There were several American IPAs and Double IPAs vying for my attention, but Matt suggested the Ridgeway IPA. Ridgeway is a Dan Shelton import, probably best known for their series of Christmas beers with the whimsical labels: Bad Elf, Very Bad Elf, Seriously Bad Elf, Insanely Bad Elf, and Santa's Butt. Dan's a wild man, and brings in a number of wild beers -- Cantillon, EKU 28, Fantom, Kulmbacher Eisbock -- but he is a fervent champion of smaller, balanced session-type beers -- he has a special love for the insanely drinkable lagers at Mahr's, for instance.

Ridgeway falls in that latter category. I got a taster of this 5.5% IPA (which was the original Bad Elf, re-tooled a bit) and said yeah, pour me a full one. Oh, mama. What a beautiful beer. The balance was perfect: nothing tongue-stripping here, this was just a great beer, very drinkable and flavorful, with none of the diamond-edged hop character of the Green Flash. Ridgeway's hop character is English: spicy, floral, restrained but firm. The malt's wonderful, jazzed up by yeast character, not too heavy, just tasty and fresh. I had two pints.

We got dinner (drunken mussels, quail, a revelation in the form of seared foie gras (Curt, a confirmed non-hophead, got another Shelton beer, Cantillon Kriek, and the sharp acidity of it was a perfect foil for the goose fat), a Cuban sandwich, a duck breast and Serrano ham sandwich, and a cheese plate), and with all the beers it set us back quite a bit, but...a good deal for the experience. Two outstanding beers, great company, delicious food. A night well spent.
After we left, we took Curt down to the Beer Yard to see Matt's wonderful selection of beer for sale, and Matt threatened us with his 3-liter bottle of Samichlaus. He ought to put a stock and a scope on that thing...

Jeez, aren't I the guy who said he was going to do fewer tasting notes this year?

Friday, January 18, 2008

Tröegs Nugget Nectar

WHOO! I'm keeping my New Year's resolutions; or one of them at least:

If there's a hop shortage -- and there is -- screw it: I am going to grab all
the super-hoppy beers I want and can get. Hopheads who got all defensive when I
talked about hoppy beers being simple? Pile on, I can take it. Just don't get
between me and the IPA taps.

So when I wanted a beer this afternoon (and I did, because when I interviewed Jim Koch about the new Samuel Adams Irish Red the booger taunted me that he was drinking a beer, and why wasn't I?) I reached in the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Tröegs Nugget Nectar, the beer that the Trogners insist isn't an IPA, but an imperial amber ale.

Okay, whatever. Mostly, it's hoppier than blazes. It's like grapefruit pith, it's piney, it's...okay, it's got a kind of cat's piss smell that's weirdly appealing. I can't believe I'm going to leave that in, but I am, because it's true. The amazing thing about this beer -- one amazing thing about this beer is how the bitterness doesn't hook into your tongue and linger forever: it's like wasabi, it hits WHAM and you stagger a bit, and it's gone. Which means it's time for another swallow, another mouth-squeezing taste, a blast of lupulin freshness -- hmmm, the cat's piss is gone -- and that's the other amazing thing about this beer: it's bitter, it's jam-packed with flavor, it's ... gone. Way too drinkable, which ain't a bad thing, just something you have to keep your eye on.

Scared of the hop shortage? Get as much of this as you can and stop worrying.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Samuel Adams Irish Red

The new Samuel Adams Irish Red, a beer chosen by vote (between this style and a dunkelweizen -- rigged, I say, rigged!) as the next addition to the long line of Boston Beer Co's offerings. Smells fresh, malty, and a bit fruity, and a hint of caramel...unless that's anticipation of what I'm sure is in there. Mmmm...good body on this one, and yeah, there's caramel flavors. This is not an overly hoppy beer, but the earthy, spicy notes of East Kent Goldings are welcome. It really woke up my mouth with the piece of room temp Primadonna cheese I grabbed on a whim, too.

This is not for everyone. Irish reds are generally approachable beers, but this is perhaps too much for some. I say that because Cathy didn't care for it. I thought at first that it was the caramel malt, but after hearing what she said -- it's got that English taste I don't like -- now I'm not sure if it's the malts -- I think English malts are distinctive -- or the EKGs, which I just love. Cathy likes PNW hopping, crisp, piney, citrus, and this isn't that, not at all. She also likes malty beers, but usually more on the lager side. This Irish Red has a fuller body than most others I've had, and I like that, kind of a bridge towards Fuller's ESB in a weird way. The caramel might be overdone, but that's a defining characteristic, so that's like saying hops are overdone in an IPA, and, well, you can't say that in this country, right?

But this isn't Cathy's blog! I like this one, and encourage you to try it. Should be a good food beer with pork, chicken, and lighter fish; cheddar/Lancashire cheese, and nuts; pears, too, probably.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Exchange rates: closing a door, or opening a window?

"When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window."

It's a quote from The Sound of Music, where the Mother Superior of Maria's convent is telling her that there are many ways to serve God, so when one path is closed, it doesn't mean you can't continue on your journey. I thought about that on Friday when I was talking to a booze analyst about the imported beer market. It's for a story I'm doing for Cheers, so I won't get into the numbers, but I don't think it's a surprise to anyone that exchange rates are hiking the U.S. price of most imported beers.

Along with the well-publicized rise in the price of hops and malt -- which is pretty much world-wide -- lower values of the dollar vs. the Euro and other currencies mean that beers from Europe, Asia, and yes, Canada, cost more than they did a year ago (wonder if that's affected the price of Blue Moon, which MolsonCoors is currently brewing in Canada?). If you want to buy a fine Belgian ale, a crisp Bavarian lager, or a big bottle of Unibroue, the price curve on your decision will be steeper. From Heineken to Salvator to Rochefort 8, import beers are bound to take a hit in sales, particularly with all the election year scare-talk about a U.S. recession (Congress and Bush are talking about a "stimulus package" before we've even seen any evidence of a recession -- not that either party is pandering or anything).

But if that door to brewed Heaven is closing, surely a window is opening for craft brewers and the Big Three (maybe even Pabst and the remaining regionals). Increased costs in hops and malt may mean price increases -- okay, it does mean price increases, and we're seeing them already -- but the foreign brewers have to add that increase on top of the exchange rate premium. American beer becomes more competitive, more attractive.

We're already seeing that in the majors: mainstream premium beers like Budweiser, Coors Banquet, and Miller High Life are all up, the first major uptick for them in years. People are starting to look at the price of a sixer of import lager, and of a sixer of Bud (and maybe thinking about the latest ads from Miller and A-B, which are hitting themes of solid value, 'regular guy' appeal, and even patriotism), and picking up the American beer.

Don't dismiss that factor in specialty beers. I expect to see more traffic in American-brewed versions of Euro-classics -- assuming American brewers continue to get better at brewing them -- and more experimentation with 'American' styles by both brewers and consumers, maybe backing off the extreme hops or at least moderating them. But I also think we're going to see even more solidification of flagship brands by craft brewers, as people 'hunker down' a bit to ride this out.

Make no mistake: the people who read this blog and the ones over there to the left, the people who read and post on BeerAdvocate, ratebeer, and Real Beer, you there, reading this right now, are probably going to be more likely to keep on spending to get what you want...but not all of you. And remember: craft beer is still under 4% of the total sales, and we the bloggers and readers, the folks who drink 400 different beers in a year, are just a tiny niche in that niche.

Look at the numbers. Most craft brew drinkers are drinking Sam Adams Boston Lager, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, New Belgium Fat Tire Amber, Harpoon IPA (and Blue Moon Belgian White, if we're going to be honest and look at this in terms of "craft" styles). That's where the sales are that are getting us even close to 4%. I think things are going to shift even more towards those brands, because they'll have the steadiest prices and the most consistent product. Experimentation tends to go down when prices go up. Flagships will do well.

Which is probably a good thing. Those flagship brands will keep breweries alive till the hops and malt thing either sorts out or we get used to it. In the end, I think this is going to be a time of opportunity for American brewers large and small. It's a matter of reading the winds and the currents and deciding how to set your sails to catch the best breeze...while staying off the rocks and shoals.

Monday, January 14, 2008

The Colum Egan Interview, Part II (Never too late, eh?)

One of the things you said back when I brought up the whole idea of New Year's resolutions, and what you wanted to see more or less of in the blog was, um, er...me actually following up on what I said I would do, and doing it. Okay, here you go: the next installment of my interview of Bushmills master distiller Colum Egan...from last March. Part II picks up right where we left off, with Colum explaining about the use of wood in maturing Bushmills Irish Whiskey.

Colum Egan: Maturation is very important at Bushmills. We'll use a cask about three times. As you can imagine, each time you use a cask, the contribution from the wood to the whiskey is declining. After three times, I feel that the contribution is not appropriate, not sufficient. Other distillers are different, they'll use it four, five, six times, but I just think, myself...well, I would say it, but we always say that our attention to detail is second to none at Bushmills.

It's not just me. I'd like to take all the credit, but I just can't. The people at Bushmills are just fantastic. I've worked a lot of places, New York, Dublin, London, and really, the best place I've ever worked is Bushmills. I think I'm enthusiastic and passionate about the whiskey, but these guys just blow me away. If my enthusiasm wanes a bit, I just have a chat with them.

There's six guys that make the whiskey, two per shift. One guy that mashes, actually takes the extract from the barley, and one guy that runs the stillhouse, separates alcohol from water. So over 24 hours, that's a six-man team. The least amount of experience you've got on them is 25 years, and the most is 40 years. So these guys know what they're doing. People ask me, what happens when you leave the distillery? I tell them, well, if they don't know how to make it after 25 years, we're in trouble.

There's some great stories. There's a guy there, Ronnie Brennan, one of the mashmen. He's very knowledgeable, knows every little intricacy that could possibly go wrong. Of course, your knowledge is only tested after perhaps a power cut, or something unusual. That's when you know. If the other two guys run into something on their shifts, they'll ring Ronnie at home. And Ronnie lives just across the road. He'll come in. Doesn't clock in, doesn't tell me he's come in, might spend an hour or two helping them fix the issue with the pump or whatever. He does that totally on his own time, just walks in.

That's the commitment that the guys have to Bushmills. As long as they can see some kind of development down the road, and that's what makes it so much fun to be part of Diageo. We finally have someone who believes in the whiskey, with that same passion that we have. We're very good at making whiskey, but Diageo's very good at actually telling the world about it.

I say, if I can just get people to taste Bushmills, I know they'll drink it. It's as simple as that, and I don't think you can say anything better about a whiskey. Over the years, I've got enough people tasting it, so now I've got people drinking it.

The grains that go in the whiskey: what are you using? Is it all malt?

There’s three types of whiskey made in Ireland. That's a very important point, I think, that a lot people miss, even whiskey writers who know a lot about whiskey. There's malt whiskey. Malt whiskey's what we make at Bushmills, it's made from 100% malted barley. There's a second type of whiskey called pure pot still whiskey. Pure pot still whiskey is made from mainly raw barley, with just a small amount of malted barley added to it.

That's added in the still or in the mash?

That's added in the mash, right in the mix. You need the malted barley for enzyme conversion of the raw barley. Then the third type of whiskey is grain whiskey. Grain whiskey is made through a continuous, column still, whereas malt whiskey and pure pot still whiskey are made in a copper pot still.

What's going into grain whiskey?

The grain [whiskey] in Ireland is actually made from corn -- we call it maize -- where in Scotland, they tend to use wheat. It depends what's available, it's really kind of traditional things. That's not to say that in Ireland we won't make grain whiskey from wheat, that's not to say that in Scotland they won't make grain whiskey from corn, that's just, at the moment, what they make it from.

What is grain whiskey? We're not talking about grain neutral spirits?

No, no. There's a very critical difference between grain whiskey and grain neutral spirits. In Irish whiskey, and Scotch whiskey, I think it's 94.7, I'd want to kinda look that up and confirm that to you, but I think it's 94.7% is the maximum strength that you're allowed to go to, of whiskey. Anything above that, it comes into grain neutral spirit, it comes into the whole vodka territory. Really 97% is about the highest you can go; the higher you go, the less color, the less flavor you get.

There's no room for it.

Yeah. Grain whiskey tends to be very bland, really. It's sweet, but it tends to be bland. It's not as complex, it doesn't have the different aromas you'd get from a whiskey made from barley, or whiskey made in a copper pot still. The copper really has a big influence on the whiskey, and the shape of the still has a big difference on the whiskey.

So you have the three whiskeys we make in Ireland. In a blended whiskey, like Bushmills Original, for instance, we take some of the malt whiskey -- because it's only made at Bushmills, it's a single malt whiskey -- and we'll blend it with some of the grain whiskey, the whiskey made in the column still from maize.

Is it blended in aged, or is it blended in straight off the still?

Again, for a whiskey to be called whiskey, it must be aged in the oak barrel. Always, always, always. At Bushmills, our malts are all a minimum of five years, and our grain is a minimum of four years, for the States. So we'll take some of the malt whiskey, and mix it with some of the grain whiskey -- we use the word 'blending' -- so we blend the two together, because we don't want any layering or anything in the vat. We blend the two together, and make a blended whiskey, and that's the Bushmills Original.

Now, you can get other whiskeys in Ireland, from the Midleton Distillery. Midleton just makes pure pot still whiskey. So you'll get brands like Jameson's, and Powers, they're two blended whiskeys, where they'll take the pure pot still and blend in some grain whiskey with it. It's a very big difference, obviously, because there's no malt whiskey in Jameson's, there's no malt whiskey in Powers, it's pure pot still, and it's a very different character.

Malt whiskey is seen the world over as the best whiskey (I suspect that this is not true in the states of Kentucky and Tennessee...), and I really think that holds true, and it's a big point of difference between Bushmills and other Irish whiskeys. Jameson's, you'll find, is a little bit oily in character, a little bit mouth-coating, and I find it a bit green, a little bit grassy. I'm not saying it's young, it's...

It's a flavor, a descriptor.

Yeah. I also think it's a bit unbalanced, but we leave that to everybody (? Did I mention that it was very noisy in the bar?). I always find that a good whiskey will always improve when you add some water to it. If you add water to Bushmills, what happens to it is, the aromas are released into the glass. Your nose is very sensitive: it can actually detect parts per billion, your nose, it's tremendously sensitive, whereas your palate goes nowhere near that level of sensitivity. That's why at the distillery I nose all the time, I rarely actually sip whiskey.

So if you add water to Bushmills, it releases the aromas into the glass and exacerbates, or extenuates the whole tasting experience. Whereas when you do it with Jameson's, it actually kills it flat, a very unusual phenomenon. It really knocks it back, it's a very clear difference.

With Bushmills, you get this nice, light, fruity, spiciness, you get that malty character coming through. With Black Bush, because it's matured in sherry casks --

It's not all sherry casks, right?

Right. It's a mix of first-fill and second-fill sherry casks, and some third-fill casks. Your attention has to very high when you use sherry casks, because there's a possibility that you could over-sherry the whiskey, and that's not what we're going for. We're trying to really hone in on the fruitiness, hone in on the light floral notes, the typical house style of Bushmills.

(Okay, it will not be 10 months before you get Part III!)

Sunday, January 13, 2008

La Grande Blanche

Another beer from the SBS package: La Grande Blanche, a Belgian Imperial White Ale. Y'know... I see "Brewed & bottled by: De Proefbrouwerij" and I expect a beer that's at least going to make me stop, look at the glass, and say, "Well, all right." I'm tasting this and wondering why it's "La Grande" and why it's an "Imperial" white ale. It claims 7.5% ABV -- and almost certainly is -- but doesn't have the hit you'd expect. That could be an admirable thing, like the doublebock that slips under your booze radar, but in this case, it doesn't have the punched-up flavors and aromas and stuff that an "imperial" beer would lead you to expect.

Don't get me wrong: it's good, and I'm not going to pour it out. But when I want an imperial white ale, I'll go for Southampton's Double White or the impeccable Unibroue Don de Dieu.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Beer and women

My latest Condé Nast Portfolio column is up: "Half a Market Waiting." It's some New Year's resolutions for the brewing industry: try marketing to women, you dimbulbs. Women are estimated to be 25% of the American beer market, but you'd never know it from looking at beer ads (macro and craft, thank you).

Yet brewers run scared of wine and spirits taking sales away. Well, hell, boyo, you've pretty much rolled over on the whole female market, what do you think's gonna happen?! Who are these geniuses? Can I have their jobs?

Just kidding. I'm having too much fun with this one.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Yards Report

I ran into Tom Kehoe at Tuesday's big Philly Beer Week meeting (more on that very shortly) and of course asked him what was going on with the new brewery. You know, the one that was supposed to start "some level" of brewing this month? Has any microbrewery ever opened on schedule?

"We're putting in screw piles tomorrow," he told me, with that "damn, I'm screwed, but hey, we're all screwed, right?" grin of his strung across his face. Screw piles? Big screws -- really big, like thirty feet long -- that get screwed down into the ground for support. "Then you put a steel haunch on top," Tom added -- Haunch? What? Look, suffice it to say, the Yards brewery right now is down to a dirt floor, and they're going to be building up on the screw piles to a heavy reinforced concrete (or "ferroconcrete," as the Brits call it, a much cooler word) floor to support the brewing equipment.

So, when? A while, looks like. Meanwhile, as was the backup plan, Kehoe is having two beers -- one being Philly Pale (the other I can't remember: ESA? IPA?) -- brewed under contract at The Lion. The other beers will be coming from stocks built up at the Kensington brewery, which is now, of course, Philadelphia Brewing (which has some interesting session-looking beers up on their 'coming soon' brews list).

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Is Pennsylvania better off WITH the case law?

My buddy -- and frequent STAG commenter -- Sam Komlenic sent the following as a response to my post on Pennsylvania's initiative to get rid of the case law; he's against it. Hear him out, he's got some interesting angles, interesting enough that I thought it would work better as a post than as a comment. I don't buy much of what he says, though: I'm going to insert my responses in the text, and then we invite you to join in.


OK, I've done my research; here goes. Those who have been paying attention know that some retail entities have been doing yeoman's work to get beer put into their establishments here in PA. The Sheetz convenience store chain and Wegman's grocery have both purchased PLCB "E" retail licenses (I think I've got that right, if not, my bad). These permit the sale of beer on-premise in restaurant-oriented operations.

Sheetz, in their huge Altoona location, is now selling six packs only, prohibiting on-premise consumption entirely, pending a PA Supreme Court ruling on the issue. Wegman's. in their State College location, applied for transfer of a license, purportedly to offer the "convenience" of on-premise beer sales as an option to customers in the restaurant area of the store. This has not yet happened, and I'll bet they're waiting for the court's ruling.

Neither of these entities really wants to assume the liability involved in on-premise consumption, as evidenced by Sheetz's intentional and blatant disregard for the parameters of the license they were granted, even though their initial intent was to provide customers the option of a beer with their hoagie (on-premise, to get the license, then let the court decide). They want to sell six packs, and six packs only, out the door.

I don't really see this as an issue. There are plenty of similar licenses already being used this way in the state's "bottleshops." People assume that there is a special license for places like this, my former state legislator did, he told me they had a "deli license": there isn't such a thing. They've simply bought a tavern license and made it a store policy that you can't drink on-premises, a way to make the state's laws allow a sixpack shop. It's an expensive way to do it in some areas -- these licenses aren't cheap -- but it's hardly new or particularly underhanded.

Now, take this a step further. Once distributors are granted the luxury of selling six packs, what's to prevent Wegman's, or Sheetz, or Weis, or any other retail entity to purchase a distributor's license? Keep in mind that there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,000 distributor licenses in PA, many (most?) of which are not massive operations mastering the brands of large brewing companies. Many (most?) are small, mom and pop "D" distributors with little or no influence in the market, buying all of their beer from master distributors in their territory, and whose licenses would immediately be worth more than their entire business, property included.

As I understand it -- as you said, if I'm wrong, my bad -- D distributors are very limited in the items they can sell besides beer -- snacks, beer glasses and books/magazines, lottery tickets, soft drinks, and smokes, I think -- precisely to prevent grocery stores from 'back-dooring' their way in like this. If the grocery store went to the extent of setting up a separate corporation to buy the license, and put a beer distributor right next door with their name over the door...well, the state already encourages the co-positioning of distributors and State Stores.

One more step: what's to prevent the grocery/convenience chains from buying the more influential "ID" licenses, which permit importation of beer from out of state? This could potentially make Wegman's the master distributor for A-B, Miller, or whatever in your county(ies). Also note that it is not hard to convert any "D" license to an "ID" simply by applying for the change.

Why is a grocery store buying that ID any more threatening than a large and growing wholesaler buying it up? If one wholesaler had A-B for the whole state, would that be different than if Wegman's bought it?

I'll accept this legislation with one small and seemingly insignificant change that will NEVER happen: that it strictly prohibit sales of beer in grocery/convenience stores. That simple. It protects the distributor network as we know it without allowing the transfer of licenses surreptitiously, which has already begun to occur. It would also fulfill the intent of the law that is now being presented: to allow distributors ONLY to enjoy this privilege. These guys are already knocking on the door, the legislature is in their pocket, and they have the funds to beat this horse until they get what they want, and I don't want what they do.

You won't see that, you're right, but why not go whole hog: let's go to a package store system. Break up the damned State Store system and make ONE type of license to sell beer, wine, liquor and all alcohol off-premise, in any amounts, without artificial restraint. Put reasonable limits on the number of licenses per capita per county if you feel you have to -- and they will -- but give these guys a chance. I'd love to see a package store system in PA.

My craft distributor told me that if this law is passed, he will move toward selling by the six and twelve pack only. Space is a major issue, margins are another.

Is that all bad? If he doesn't offer case discounts, someone will. It's his business, Sam.

Let's also look at draft availability. Supermarkets in states that permit their selling beer, in my experience, place very little import on a good selection of kegs. If the distributor system diminishes significantly, where will you go for a good selection of halves, quarters, and sixtels? Pennsylvania may currently be the most draft-friendly state in the Union. Don't expect that to continue.

That's assuming that this will lead inevitably to supermarket sales. As I said above, I don't buy that premise, so I'm not overly concerned about this prospect.

For now, I stand by my initial observation, that this legislation is a back door avenue for grocery store sales in Pennsylvania, nothing more. Once this occurs, the majors will gain exponential influence in the market, which is WHAT THEY WANT.

Also keep in mind that PA is one of the only (perhaps THE only) states where distribution is granted in very small chunks, one (or a few) county(ies) at a time. The big guys HATE this! Many states have one or two distributors for the whole state. It's easier, more convenient (there's that word again), and more profitable for them. This legislation could easily begin the dismantling of that landscape, as well.

Many craft and import brands have granted rights to the whole state to one wholesaler...because it's easier and more convenient. Distribution rights CAN be granted in very small chunks; they aren't always, it's up to the producer and wholesaler. Most other states work the same way...but their wholesalers have consolidated and merged. Pennsylvania is a big, populous state, with a long history of geographic division: we've got chunks of population separated by a lot of open land. That's got more to do with it than laws.

Having been in beer sales in the past, it was my experience that even under the present regulations, when a new bottle shop was being opened, the distributors with clout called the shots. They would lay out the cooler placements for the retailer, to the point of minimizing or excluding the placement of minor brands they did not themselves represent. They buy equipment for the licensee, flaunting existing regulations. They get the tap placements they want. They control it to whatever extent they can. Think this will change for the better with even greater freedom?

This is all too true. I'd love to see more PLCB enforcement of these regulations, instead of looking for domestic animals on premises and registration of brands.

Call me a cynic (I am), but this whole thing is designed to look beneficial to the beer consumer, when in fact, it is only and entirely about convenience(!) and corporate influence, not selection and diversity for the consumer.

Be careful what you wish for...you might get it!

I'm fully behind that statement. We don't know what this law will eventually come out to, what all the effects will be: no one does. But I still don't see it leading directly or indirectly to supermarket sales.

Call for discussion!

Monday, January 7, 2008

Echoes of Thunder

Bill asked in the comments about the Baltic Thunder release at the Drafting Room, "how was the event?" Fair question. I'd add pictures, if my batteries hadn't gone dead on me as soon as I turned the damned camera on.

I got to TDR about 11:50, exchanged some pleasantries with various folk at the bar (Deuane, I finally realized who you were, my apologies!), said hi to Mr. & Mrs. BrewLounge (talked a little biz, too, we've got plans), and then got kidnapped by The Big One and The Other One (as Uncle Jack has dubbed them) and joined them at their table. They're right: the bar is high-voltage, but the table's the way to fly.

We sampled some of a long-hoarded keg of Seven Threads, the blended beer made by local brewers for the Craft Beer Conference held in Philly two years ago. A bit sour. "That's O'Reilly's contribution," one of us quipped (no, I'm not saying who), referencing the Sly Fox head brewer's chagrin at not being included in the blend. Then we sampled a surviving keg of Perkuno's Hammer -- sour -- and a surviving keg of Heavyweight Lunacy -- delicious.

I heard the keg of Baltus was much nastier, and we wondered if we were attending the First Unintentionally Sour Ale Festival... Hey, no slant on the Drafting Room at all. We wanted this stuff, and we were willing to pay for it, long after it would have been at its freshest, and to their credit, they warned us. And...like I used to say about bottled German beers: you could still definitely hear the echo of what these beers once were.

And then, yeah, I got a pint of Baltic Thunder. It was good, solid, and wickedly drinkable. If I had a complaint...okay, I do. No, a curiosity: I wonder what it will taste like when the total content is as lively as the August batches I tasted in December (see my notes on tasting the tank samples and blending). It's good now...but that might be even better.

More folks started showing up, but I had to run before the celebs got there: Tom and Peggy, Bill and Ron, and Uncle Jack. Sorry I missed you guys, would have been fun to have all of us together for a big old glass of Thunder.

But I had to get my butt down to Victory to pick up a case of Thunder for later. Talked to some STAG readers while I was drinking a glass of Donnybrook Stout at the bar (hi, guys!) -- still loving that beer -- then hustled home and headed off to a holiday party with the family. A good day, if a long one.

Pennsylvanians: Stand Up For Six-Packs

A message to Pennsylvania beer drinkers:

The case law may be in its last months, if your legislator votes for the right bill in the next few weeks. House Bill 606 is making its way to the PA House for a vote, very soon. It's a standard bill about liquor code enforcement, very technical, but an amendment is being attached to it that changes the case law. The changes:

* Before January 1, 2009: Restaurant, deli or tavern may sell one 6-pack, two six-packs, a 12-pack or 3-six packs. A beer distributor may sell any number of six-packs, cases or kegs.

* After January 1, 2009: Restaurant, deli or tavern may sell any configuration up to 18 cans or bottles totaling 288 ounces. Beer distributors may sell any configuration of a 6 pack or greater.

* Permit a holiday package prepared by the manufacturer containing 40 ounces of beer in one or more containers and at least two drinking glasses (mug, stein, etc.) to be sold at beer distributors only.


The key to this is the word six-pack. If you want to break the case law, here's what you want to do. Contact your legislator (the link takes you to a screen where you can type in your ZIP code and get connected to your legislator's e-mail) right now and tell them that you support the amendment to House Bill 606, as written to allow sales of six-packs at beer distributors. Tell them you want six-pack sales; not limited to just 12-pack, 15-pack, or 18-pack sales.

Because that's the tricksy thing: some larger brewers are evidently trying to get the language in the amendment...amended to read "12-pack" instead of "six-pack." Guess which package many craft brewers don't have? Right in one. Your Pennsylvania craft brewers (and Yuengling and Anheuser-Busch, I've been told by people in the legislature and the PA Brewers Guild) want six-packs, and that's what you want to tell your legislator to vote for.

Why is this such a big deal? Pennsylvanians have consistently shown support for an end to the case law (polls show 85+% of Pennsylvanians support being able to buy six-packs at distributors/beer stores); even MADD supports an end to the case law. So why do we still have the case law?

Conservatism, mostly, and I don't mean the political kind. Retailers rarely like to mess with something that's in place, especially in a heavily regulated business like beer sales in the Commonwealth. It's not really fair to them, when you look at it: for over seventy years, the law required them to sell beer by the case, so their stores are set up for that: mostly concrete floors and minimal shelving, room for a pallet-jack, and not much in the way of "pretty." Now, in a matter of months, they're faced with spending a lot of money and labor to make their stores six-pack stores. Makes you think of the old adage: "Be careful what you wish for."

But I'm not talking to you as a friend of retailers, wholesalers, or legislators. I'm talking to you as one of us: Pennsylvania beer-drinkers. The case law is a ridiculous vestige of the early days of Repeal. We are the only state in the Union to have a case law, and it's never done a thing for the good of the consumer (okay, not quite true, but the benefits have all been incidental). This is the best chance we've had in years to kill it. Do your bit to put a stake through the heart of this most asinine of beer laws.

(Somewhat) Back to Normal

A personal note. Some of my distraction and lack of focus (and missing deadlines; an apology to my editors) lately has come from a truly irritating toothache that had me popping 800 mg of ibuprofen on a regular basis. I found it hard to concentrate on most things requiring serious thought. It also made drinking cold beer extremely painful.

It was a cracked tooth, and I finally had it dealt with this morning. I've got about a day of pain to get through yet, and then I'll be good. Whew.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Thumper

I used to be scared of some beers. Guinness Extra Stout shocked me the first time I had it. Heineken Dark, too. I got over it, and learned to love 'em. Old Peculier we laughed at and dumped. Dumped. I should do penance... Orval took some getting used to. Hefeweizen...that clove, that banana, what the hell was that? Now I buy them by the keg. Thomas Hardy's, wow, the first one I had was not a good experience, but man, did I love it once I got it.

After all those realizations, there was still one beer that spooked me, intimidated me, "got the skeer on me and kept it on," to paraphrase N.B. Forrest. EKU 28 Kulminator Ur-typ Hell. EKU 28, the Malt Bomb, the icy German challenger to Samichlaus for world lager domination. It was like drinking a ghost, and if you've read Tim Powers, you know what I mean. Or Douglas Adams, for that matter: "What's so unpleasant about being drunk?" "Ask a glass of water."

EKU 28 was huge, powerful, a jackbooted sturmmann of malt and alcohol kicking me right in the teeth. I'd heard a definition of a "good" doublebock being one that gave you no clue of how strong it was until you tried to stand up: by that definition, this was very bad doublebock indeed. I used to keep a bottle in my fridge like some kind of life-affirming threat.

Then one day, about thirteen years ago, after drinking pretty wild stuff over the course of the previous ten years, I got a wild hair up, and I cracked open that bottle. I poured it -- ruddy gold, thick-bodied, and cold as winter wind -- and tasted it anew. Whoa! Happy German! This was no storm trooper, no Teutonic Knight, this was a steamroller hauling an oompah band, eight fully laden Oktoberfest waitresses, twelve guys with pipes and steins wearing lederhosen, and a pipe organ on a big wooden wagon, Bavarian whoopee on wheels.

The beer, of course, hadn't changed; it was me. I was finally up to double-doublebock speed, a beer speed of approximately 7R, again referencing Douglas Adams's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy ("R" being the maximum safe speed for a given situation). I could feel myself getting wazooed in the course of that single bottle and, seated in front of my computer and logged into the old Prodigy Online service, I proceeded to open a second one.

After I spent the next two days apologizing to people online that I'd insulted while marching through Oompah-Oompah Land, I realized that despite the consequences, I'd made a friend. The sumo style of EKU 28 was just the thing for some occasions; a need for anti-freeze, for instance, or a long snowstorm. I'm oiling up for a walk with the dog in cold windy weather right now.

I've become quite fond of deep-winter doppelbocks (and yes, I'm quite aware that someone, somewhere, is angsting something fierce that EKU 28 isn't a doppelbock... bite me. It's what I'm drinking today) as a tonic to push off the cruel cold, and the realization that January is upon us, the very depth of winter, with months to go before the leaves bud in green (and the pollen comes out, and the mud returns, but who thinks of that in January?). Doppelbock is an elixir of life squeezed from the malty sprout of birth, the green essence of spring in the quickening of grass. If there were household gods, if there were spirits, if a beer deity existed...surely this would be his potent ichor.

And it has god-like power, friends. For when I drink EKU 28, when it floods my heart and flashes all the lights in my mind, I know that I will live forever...today.

Wow. This stuff really got right on top of me. I'd better go walk the dog...but first, I'm loading Alte Kameraden and Wien bleibt Wien on my MP3 player. Damn. Does anyone else see something silly in writing about doppelbock and calling it "The Session"? Whew. Might have to have more when I get back.



The Session is all about doppelbock this month, hosted by Jay Wilson at Brewvana. When you're done here, double back and read the rest.

Baltic Thunder: Unleashed and Rolling

Yup, that's me and Bill Covaleski, in Victory's tank farm, tasting Baltic Thunder...as the tanks were being sucked to the filter. Historic, epic, and delicious.

As Uncle Jack has already reported, Victory invited me and him and Don Russell to taste the Thunder in its last days of wildness. The dates, Dec. 26 or 27, coincided with my annual 'busman's holiday' of beer-hunting with some old friends, so all three of us went. We made a stop at Iron Hill North Wales, where brewer Larry Horwitz made us very welcome with a pre-opening session at the bar, arguing about ... well, about a lot of things, which is why I like hanging out with Larry; keeps your mind supple. Then we grabbed some Christmas leftovers for lunch at my buddy Les's apartment in Plymouth Meeting, and headed for Victory.

Brewpub manager Matt Krueger welcomed us, sat us at a table while he found Bill, and we got a round of Donnybrook Stout. Victory's really got this one in a nice spot, a sub-4% dry stout that drinks easy and fine, interesting but quaffable. We ate a pizza -- stuffing a bit, but when you're headed for the tank farm, laying in a base is always a good idea -- and then Bill showed up. Did we want to drink samples there at the table (surrounded by a loud and happy office party), or off the zwickel? Get serious! Off to the tanks we went.

We tasted four different brews of Thunder. The first, oldest one is, yes, the one I've been touting as extra-lagered, smooth, you'll-never-get-it-like-this-again...and it was tired. It was subdued, no dark fruit, barely any coffee, big, but a yawner. Bill smiled and led us to the August tanks. This was a much more lively beer, with big singing notes of coffee and dark chocolate, fruitiness but not the dark pit fruit I expected: a lighter berry character that my friend Rich Pawlak (food editor for MainLine Magazine) insisted was "blueberry." Okay. This was my favorite of the batches. The two September batches were almost too fresh, a bit sharp, not as well melded: good, but not the glory of the August batches.

Which makes it a good thing that Bill and Ron intend to blend the batches. I remember when blending batches used to be anathema at microbreweries, something those big brewers did. Please. Blending these batches evens things out, rough and smooth. There's a place for unblended batch, and there's just as much a place for blending. We blended four batches, even up, and it was very, very nice: smooth, with all the parts in place: chocolate, coffee, fruit, weight, and the craftily hidden 8+% ABV.

Is it Perkuno's Hammer? No, it isn't. The elusive prune notes that Tom Baker and I wanted to capture aren't there, the slight edge of burnt bitterness isn't there. However, Baltic Thunder has a captivating balance for such a big beer, a dryer edge (probably from Victory's mastery of German malts), and a liveliness that dangerously masks its strength. I've been quoted as describing Baltic porters as a trainwreck between a doppelbock and an imperial stout: Baltic Thunder perhaps leans more towards the doppelbock side. It is most definitely a winner. It is most gratifying to be connected, however tenuously, to this beer...which was never intended to be Perkuno's Hammer, but Victory's Baltic porter.

So I'll see some of you tomorrow at the Baltic Thunder launch at The Drafting Room in Exton. Thunder will also roll at Victory tomorrow, in draft and in 22 oz. bottles. One bright side of the long battles to get this beer out the door was Victory's discovery that their bottling line could indeed handle 22 oz. "dinner bottles." Expect to see more Victory beers in this package.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

New Year's Resolutions

I've decided not to do my "Best Of" posting this year, the "Lew Bryson Awards." It was getting a bit forced, especially the "Best of/Worst of" SE PA listings, and I have to admit to being a bit freaked out when Appalachian put my choice of them as best PA brewpub on the side of their building back in 2006...so I'm not doing it this year.

Instead, I'm making the following New Year's Resolutions about beer and whiskey.

1. If there's a hop shortage -- and there is -- screw it: I am going to grab all the super-hoppy beers I want and can get. Hopheads who got all defensive when I talked about hoppy beers being simple? Pile on, I can take it. Just don't get between me and the IPA taps.

2. Work for a week at a bourbon distillery...if one will have me. I want to get hands-on with whiskey, and I'm working out to get in shape for it.

3. I'm going to get more involved with the Pennsylvania Brewer's Guild -- again, if they'll have me -- and learn more about legislation, lobbying, and political action.

4. Re-dedication to the Session Beer Project. You know why: I've wandered from it, and that's bad.

5. More travel -- self-funded when possible -- to the places where classic beer styles are made, to Ireland for a whiskey trip, some days before or after Chicago WhiskyFest to visit breweries in the Midwest.

6. Visit and talk to microdistillers.

7. Question beer authority. More than I have been. Go and see it made, go and taste it there, go to primary sources, stop repeating stuff someone else just made up. Be a historian again.

8. Continue to re-connect to the local and Pennsylvania beer community. I got better last year, I'm going to keep it up.

9. Do better on Beer Blogging Friday. It's fun.

10. Put even more pictures of my dog in the blog. Starting right now. (Note the Triumph growler I'm using to water the tree.)

Join me! Make your own New Year's Resolutions on beer or whiskey -- like try some whiskey! -- and drop them as a comment.

One Guy up and running

Some belated news: One Guy Brewing has received licensing approval from the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board and will be opening soon (at 328 W. Front St., in Berwick, Penn.), perhaps as early as this Saturday. Guy's got beer in the tanks, and although he still has a few things to do to get the place customer-ready, he's about there. Look for "soft opening" weekends in January, with a grand opening at the end of the month or early February.

Word of warning: OGB is not a brewpub like you may be expecting. There is a small bar area, the menu consists of pretzels and New Jersey-style "dirty water" hot dogs, and you can get glasses of beer, but OGB is really about take-home: growlers, and a limited supply of seriously cool vintage returnable bottles (that are not quite ready for sale, I think...), and eventually sixtels. I think I have that right, and if not, Guy will correct me. But don't go figuring on a big brewpub with waitresses and pizza and burgers and such. This is tight-focus stuff: beer.

Congratulations, Guy! Hope to stop in real soon.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Red Brick Station -- Ringwood Haters, Stay Clear

Now, all you geeks who hate Ringwood beers passionately, know 'em as soon as you smell 'em, and have no time for Ringwood, I want to make sure you don't go to the Red Brick Station brewpub in White Marsh outside of Baltimore.

Because it gets really crowded, and I'd like to make it easier for me and the family to get a seat. We stopped in for a meal -- as we often do -- while passing through last Friday on the way to spending a long holiday weekend with my brother-in-law's family. I immediately grabbed a pint of Spooner's Stout, the not-so-bone-dry Irish stout they have, and it was familiar in its soothing smoothness. Spooner's is lighter on the burnt bitterness, but has a hint of graham cracker to it that keeps things interesting. What really kept things interesting was the Three Pint Pasta I had, a creamy curry sauce on pasta, peas, chicken, shrimp, and andouille that is some of my favorite brewpub food anywhere. It's satisfying, it's spicy, it's comfort food I've never had in my younger days -- go figure that one -- and it's great with a cool pint of Spooner's. We were all quite happy, which was a good thing, because once again, the drive to Richmond was a horror show. Really made me laugh all the way on the longer but painless drive home up I-81.

New Year, new directions?

What would you like to See Through A Glass?

STAG is coming up on its anniversary, and I'm wondering what you think of it, and what you'd like to see more or less of. Any comments, requests, objections, demands? I won't necessarily publish all of them -- particularly repeats -- but I'd like to know what you're thinking.

LewBryson.com changes

One more quick note: I'm going to be making some fairly radical changes to my website, LewBryson.com in the next couple weeks. I'm going to get the book updates caught up, change things on layout, and make it more a reference site. The stuff that's being done here will continue to be done here, and the site will rationalize to what it's become.

Is Verizon at the door yet?

The New Year...starts tomorrow

Haven't been around much, I know; it's been very busy, and I was out in the wilds of very rural Virginia over the long holiday weekend (just got back last night). I'll be posting more now that we're into January, the traditional slack season of the booze biz...but not today. I'm getting in one quick post before Verizon shows up to hook us up to their fiber optic network: phone, 'Net, and TV. Been waiting for this for over a year. Anyway, I'll be down for most of the day, and I'll talk to you tomorrow. Happy New Year!