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.
Showing posts with label Perkuno's Hammer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Perkuno's Hammer. Show all posts
Monday, January 7, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
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, September 6, 2007
Can You Hear the Thunder?
As reported, Victory won't be releasing Baltic Thunder until October 15. "No packaging," admitted brewery president and co-founder Bill Covaleski when I asked him why the long wait. But a guy who had some tiny part in this beer's creation can wheedle his way to zwickel-side and get a sample.
Actually, I met Victory publicity-wrangler Jake Burns in the parking lot and asked him if I could get a taste of Thunder, and he said sure, why not, I'd like a taste too. Ron Barchet laughed when I told him why I'd stopped by, and said "I think that when we go to package that tank there's not going to be any left!" And he paused and got that reverent, serious look he gets when he talks about beer, and said, "It's really good."
I'm happy to report that he's right. Jake screwed the pigtail onto Tank V10 (erk. Kind of ominous, that) and poured me off almost a full pint of the 8.5% stuff. It was dark and rich-smelling, prunes and plum pudding, moist chocolate cake and a subtle vinous aroma, and I couldn't help thinking of the mythical Herzwesten Dark from Tim Powers's The Drawing of the Dark (fergodssake, if you've never read this, get it): "Then he sat down, and even without bringing the cup to his nose he smelled the heady, heavily aromatic bouquet. God bless us, he thought rapturously, this is the nectar of which even the finest, rarest bock in the world is only the vaguest hint. In one long, slow, savoring swallow he emptied the cup."
I didn't empty the cup, but the temptation was there. What I did taste reminded me of my oft-quoted characterization of a Baltic porter as a trainwreck between a doublebock and an imperial stout: only the imperial stout train was 120 boxcars long and high-balling it. The beer was as smooth as only a long-aged lager can be, but it had a burnt bitter edge to it that recalled some of my favorite impies, like Smuttynose and Courage. It brought to mind the original limited edition Perkuno's Hammer, the 300-bottle brew that was supposed to be a one-off and proved to have a life of its own. Best -- or worst -- of all, Jake and I agreed that it maybe tasted like a 6.5% beer at most. "This sucker's dangerous," I said, "It's a 'Where did my knees go?' beer."
Consider yourself warned.
Actually, I met Victory publicity-wrangler Jake Burns in the parking lot and asked him if I could get a taste of Thunder, and he said sure, why not, I'd like a taste too. Ron Barchet laughed when I told him why I'd stopped by, and said "I think that when we go to package that tank there's not going to be any left!" And he paused and got that reverent, serious look he gets when he talks about beer, and said, "It's really good."
I'm happy to report that he's right. Jake screwed the pigtail onto Tank V10 (erk. Kind of ominous, that) and poured me off almost a full pint of the 8.5% stuff. It was dark and rich-smelling, prunes and plum pudding, moist chocolate cake and a subtle vinous aroma, and I couldn't help thinking of the mythical Herzwesten Dark from Tim Powers's The Drawing of the Dark (fergodssake, if you've never read this, get it): "Then he sat down, and even without bringing the cup to his nose he smelled the heady, heavily aromatic bouquet. God bless us, he thought rapturously, this is the nectar of which even the finest, rarest bock in the world is only the vaguest hint. In one long, slow, savoring swallow he emptied the cup."
I didn't empty the cup, but the temptation was there. What I did taste reminded me of my oft-quoted characterization of a Baltic porter as a trainwreck between a doublebock and an imperial stout: only the imperial stout train was 120 boxcars long and high-balling it. The beer was as smooth as only a long-aged lager can be, but it had a burnt bitter edge to it that recalled some of my favorite impies, like Smuttynose and Courage. It brought to mind the original limited edition Perkuno's Hammer, the 300-bottle brew that was supposed to be a one-off and proved to have a life of its own. Best -- or worst -- of all, Jake and I agreed that it maybe tasted like a 6.5% beer at most. "This sucker's dangerous," I said, "It's a 'Where did my knees go?' beer."
Consider yourself warned.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Hammered
I hope you all know that Victory Brewing has picked up the license to brew Perkuno's Hammer, the Baltic porter I had a hand in instigating and naming at Heavyweight Brewing. Heavyweight closed last year, of course, and I was a bit bereft: no more Hammer. Luckily, some other people felt the same way, and yesterday was Hammerfall at Victory.
-----------
We were standing in the control room at Victory. It was stiflingly hot, the AC was out, and we were all waiting for the moment when this first Victory brewing of the Hammer would start. Ron Barchet (Victory brewmaster): "Tom, do you want to push the button?" Tom Baker (Heavyweight owner/brewer/everything): "Me? Push the button?" Brian Hollinger (Victory brewing engineer): "That's the one there." Dave Sippel (Victory ass't brewer): "I already pushed it." Me: "Oh. What time is it?" Brian: "It's 1:00." Me (looking at a clock that says 1:03): "Cool, 1:00, right on time." (Silence for about a minute; people sweat) Me again: "Um...exactly what is going on now that we've pushed the button?"
----------
Turns out it was milling that had started up, so we trooped down to Victory's marvelous wetmill. Ron explained how wonderful it was: the malt is wetted very carefully so that the husk gets wet and soft, but not the kernel. This way, when the malt hits the rollers -- which are set quite tightly -- the kernel cracks as always, but the husk is not broken up, like it is in a dry mill. This makes for a better filter bed, and less tannins from the husk (because of less surface area).
Ron believes that there are only three wetmills in use at micros in the U.S.: Sierra Nevada, New Belgium, and Victory (and Deschutes, too: see comments below). It's wicked expensive, and expensive to maintain as well, and because there are so few of them, if it breaks down, a tech has to come from Germany. It's broken down once so far, which put a crimp in brewing. How long were they down? "A week," Ron admits. "But the benefits are worth it."
Why is it that Victory is in company with two much larger craft brewers? "Because it's important," Ron said. "The stability and flavor improvement you can get from the wetmill are very important in the kind of beer we make." Why don't other brewers invest the quarter million dollars in a wetmill if it's so important? "Because here the owner is the brewmaster," said Ron. "The benefits in shelf-life and flavor are clear." Clear, but not something you can easily measure and put a price on? "Right," said Ron, and grinned. "But here the accountant is the brewer, too."
-----------
Ron had pulled me a glass of Sapphire Bock, an interesting beer. A friend of his from brewing school works at a German brewery near the hops regions of Bavaria, near the Austrian border. The Bavarian hops growers came to him and said, look, we know the American craft brewers are using a lot of hops (damn betcha!). How can we get them interested in buying some of our very fine hops? Make a hoppy beer with them, and serve it at the Craft Brewers Conference, he says. Oh, wonderful, you must make us a hoppy beer with this new Saphir hop! He convinces them that it would make more sense for an American brewer to do it, and he knows just the guy.
So Victory makes a hoppy bock to his specs, and as Ron said, "It was interesting making it to his recipe. It's not what I would have done, but it's a perfectly good way of doing it." This was his opportunity to point out -- absolutely correctly -- that Victory had gotten big enough that people have started to complain that they don't do anything really interesting any more. "That's ridiculous," he said, "getting big has let us do even more interesting stuff, like this! Look out at the bar, we've got over 15 beers on right now." Victory's single-hop pils series has been nothing short of brilliant, but of course, they get no credit for it from the bulk of the geekerie because 1)they're lagers; and 2)they're under 7%. Sigh.
-------
The grist is welling up from the bottom of the mash tun. It's thick, it's cakey, it's got beans in it (over 100 lbs. of black-eyed peas; the Roman beans were crazy expensive, over a dollar a pound), it's...getting really high. "I've never seen it that high," says Brian. "Get that!" Tom shouts gleefully, "The Hammer's too big for Victory's mashtun!" They split the mash into another vessel (mash cooker?), and kept going.
The aiming point for the Original Gravity of the wort was 20.5P, a big boy that should ferment out right around 8%, maybe a bit higher. Hopping is early additions of Tettnang and Hallertauer; as Ron says, they've got contracts that make it economically reasonable to use these deliciously aromatic hops for bittering hops.
-----------
My greatest Hammer Moment was sitting at the bar at dba in Manhattan, about three months after the Hammer came out in 12 oz. bottles, and hearing the bartender telling another customer about "this beer we had in last week, it was the best f---ing beer, it was big and black and fantastic, had some weird name, something hammer, like the God's Hammer, or something, and it rocked!" And I realized..."Are you talking about Perkuno's Hammer?" "Yeah, dude, that's it! That beer's f---ing awesome!" A moment I cherish.
Tom offered his best Hammer Moment. The first run of the Hammer was in individually numbered 750 ml bottles, with a label that was pretty faint to begin with, and rapidly faded to next to nothing in a cooler. And George Gray, the owner of Andy's Corner Bar, the legendary beer bar in Bogota, NJ, calls him to ask him what the hell this great beer is. "What's the name?" Tom asks. And George says he doesn't know, it's just a white label with a line and 320 written on it in Sharpie ink. Yup, that's the Hammer.
Ron's best Hammer Moment was when he decided Victory should keep it alive. "My first thought when I heard Heavyweight was closing was how that was too bad for Tom. But my second thought was 'Where am I going to find more Hammer?!' And that's when I thought we should figure out a way to do it." Now that's a great Hammer Moment.
----------
I had to leave; had to get home and get back to work. But the Hammer was on its way. Victory's brewed two 50 bbl. batches yesterday; as Tom said, he only brewed 150 bbls. of Hammer in the whole first year of production. It's coming out in 750s and draft. But it may not be called "Perkuno's Hammer." There may be legal action from other interested parties. Ron: "We may not call it Perkuno's Hammer, but we're making it."
We suggested a few other names: Perkuno's Bummer, Perkuno's Hemmorhoid, Perkuno's Mallet. It was obviously a slow day for imagination. I still like one of my original suggestions: Black Blizzard. Whatever name it comes out under, we'll know, and we'll let everyone know: Perkuno's Hammer strikes again!
-----------
We were standing in the control room at Victory. It was stiflingly hot, the AC was out, and we were all waiting for the moment when this first Victory brewing of the Hammer would start. Ron Barchet (Victory brewmaster): "Tom, do you want to push the button?" Tom Baker (Heavyweight owner/brewer/everything): "Me? Push the button?" Brian Hollinger (Victory brewing engineer): "That's the one there." Dave Sippel (Victory ass't brewer): "I already pushed it." Me: "Oh. What time is it?" Brian: "It's 1:00." Me (looking at a clock that says 1:03): "Cool, 1:00, right on time." (Silence for about a minute; people sweat) Me again: "Um...exactly what is going on now that we've pushed the button?"
----------
Turns out it was milling that had started up, so we trooped down to Victory's marvelous wetmill. Ron explained how wonderful it was: the malt is wetted very carefully so that the husk gets wet and soft, but not the kernel. This way, when the malt hits the rollers -- which are set quite tightly -- the kernel cracks as always, but the husk is not broken up, like it is in a dry mill. This makes for a better filter bed, and less tannins from the husk (because of less surface area).
Ron believes that there are only three wetmills in use at micros in the U.S.: Sierra Nevada, New Belgium, and Victory (and Deschutes, too: see comments below). It's wicked expensive, and expensive to maintain as well, and because there are so few of them, if it breaks down, a tech has to come from Germany. It's broken down once so far, which put a crimp in brewing. How long were they down? "A week," Ron admits. "But the benefits are worth it."
Why is it that Victory is in company with two much larger craft brewers? "Because it's important," Ron said. "The stability and flavor improvement you can get from the wetmill are very important in the kind of beer we make." Why don't other brewers invest the quarter million dollars in a wetmill if it's so important? "Because here the owner is the brewmaster," said Ron. "The benefits in shelf-life and flavor are clear." Clear, but not something you can easily measure and put a price on? "Right," said Ron, and grinned. "But here the accountant is the brewer, too."
-----------
Ron had pulled me a glass of Sapphire Bock, an interesting beer. A friend of his from brewing school works at a German brewery near the hops regions of Bavaria, near the Austrian border. The Bavarian hops growers came to him and said, look, we know the American craft brewers are using a lot of hops (damn betcha!). How can we get them interested in buying some of our very fine hops? Make a hoppy beer with them, and serve it at the Craft Brewers Conference, he says. Oh, wonderful, you must make us a hoppy beer with this new Saphir hop! He convinces them that it would make more sense for an American brewer to do it, and he knows just the guy.
So Victory makes a hoppy bock to his specs, and as Ron said, "It was interesting making it to his recipe. It's not what I would have done, but it's a perfectly good way of doing it." This was his opportunity to point out -- absolutely correctly -- that Victory had gotten big enough that people have started to complain that they don't do anything really interesting any more. "That's ridiculous," he said, "getting big has let us do even more interesting stuff, like this! Look out at the bar, we've got over 15 beers on right now." Victory's single-hop pils series has been nothing short of brilliant, but of course, they get no credit for it from the bulk of the geekerie because 1)they're lagers; and 2)they're under 7%. Sigh.
-------
The grist is welling up from the bottom of the mash tun. It's thick, it's cakey, it's got beans in it (over 100 lbs. of black-eyed peas; the Roman beans were crazy expensive, over a dollar a pound), it's...getting really high. "I've never seen it that high," says Brian. "Get that!" Tom shouts gleefully, "The Hammer's too big for Victory's mashtun!" They split the mash into another vessel (mash cooker?), and kept going.
The aiming point for the Original Gravity of the wort was 20.5P, a big boy that should ferment out right around 8%, maybe a bit higher. Hopping is early additions of Tettnang and Hallertauer; as Ron says, they've got contracts that make it economically reasonable to use these deliciously aromatic hops for bittering hops.
-----------
My greatest Hammer Moment was sitting at the bar at dba in Manhattan, about three months after the Hammer came out in 12 oz. bottles, and hearing the bartender telling another customer about "this beer we had in last week, it was the best f---ing beer, it was big and black and fantastic, had some weird name, something hammer, like the God's Hammer, or something, and it rocked!" And I realized..."Are you talking about Perkuno's Hammer?" "Yeah, dude, that's it! That beer's f---ing awesome!" A moment I cherish.
Tom offered his best Hammer Moment. The first run of the Hammer was in individually numbered 750 ml bottles, with a label that was pretty faint to begin with, and rapidly faded to next to nothing in a cooler. And George Gray, the owner of Andy's Corner Bar, the legendary beer bar in Bogota, NJ, calls him to ask him what the hell this great beer is. "What's the name?" Tom asks. And George says he doesn't know, it's just a white label with a line and 320 written on it in Sharpie ink. Yup, that's the Hammer.
Ron's best Hammer Moment was when he decided Victory should keep it alive. "My first thought when I heard Heavyweight was closing was how that was too bad for Tom. But my second thought was 'Where am I going to find more Hammer?!' And that's when I thought we should figure out a way to do it." Now that's a great Hammer Moment.
----------
I had to leave; had to get home and get back to work. But the Hammer was on its way. Victory's brewed two 50 bbl. batches yesterday; as Tom said, he only brewed 150 bbls. of Hammer in the whole first year of production. It's coming out in 750s and draft. But it may not be called "Perkuno's Hammer." There may be legal action from other interested parties. Ron: "We may not call it Perkuno's Hammer, but we're making it."
We suggested a few other names: Perkuno's Bummer, Perkuno's Hemmorhoid, Perkuno's Mallet. It was obviously a slow day for imagination. I still like one of my original suggestions: Black Blizzard. Whatever name it comes out under, we'll know, and we'll let everyone know: Perkuno's Hammer strikes again!
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