Good Beer Friday #8

Normally at this time on Good Friday, I'd be running through the music for the 3:00 services with the St. Andrew Chamber Group. This year, sadly, I'm sidelined with lingering effects from the cold that's kept me from reviewing most of the past three weeks: gravel voice. So I'm going to drink beer and listen to the songs I'd otherwise be singing. Join me: Johnny Cash's version of "Were You There". (putting this up on the day after Good Friday because I didn't get out for a draft till today...)



Omer Traditional Blond, 8.0%

I love the family-owned Belgian breweries. Brouwerij Omer Vander Ghinste has been owned by the Vander Ghinste family for four generations. They mostly make pilsner -- gotta pay the bills -- but they're making a set of traditional ales as well, and Omer is the big blond in the family. A Vander Ghinste named Omer has run the brewery for all four generations; kinda solid. I like that, too.

So what do we have here? Bright yellow beer, clean white foam with tenaciously tight little bubbles. All beers are beautiful, but this one's especially captivating to the eye. Oh, and the nose, too. Sweet clovey candy, orange marmalade, sweet and spicy without being sticky or cloying. It smells interesting, which is what I'm looking for.

Sipping time. First thought: 8%? Really? That's scary. Because this drinks like about 5.5%. Well-attenuated but not thin, and still spicy-sweet without being sticky. The fizzy fine carbonation runs all over my tongue and teeth and roof and cheeks, what a rush! This is more spicy than sweet, and there's no stickiness in the finish at all. That's by God well done, and I'm kinda regretting that I gave half of it to my wife!

Verdict: Good

Goose Island Four Star Pils, 5.1%

Whatever shall I do? Goose Island is owned by ABInBev! I believe I shall taste the beer with an open mind and leave my readers (both of you) to decide what to do with the information. I will say this: Goose has always made refreshing and thirst-quenching beers, and I expect more of the same in this 16 oz. can. Let's crack it.

Hmmm...kind of funky smell like pineapple and sweet cream; not unpleasant, just totally unexpected. Is this some more of these new hop strains brewers have been experimenting with? Still, it looks proper, with a beautiful white bloom of foam. Tastes better: malt, bitter hop, the right body, clean finish.

Something's different, though, and it's not the pineapple. I'm not liking the way the bitter and malt balance, and the hops taste...burnt, or blaring, or harsh. It's just not clean, integrated. I'd maybe have another pint...but I wouldn't buy a case.

Verdict: Okay

A Bunch Of Barleywines, 7.5% and up, draft

First flight

I went down to Tattooed Mom in Philly today for Split Thy Skull XXI, the long-running barleywine/strong beer festival I blogged about Thursday. Hoo-whee, it was a good time. I didn't taste everything, but I had 8 of them, Here are some capsule reviews.
New Crustacean Barleywineish Imperial IPA Sorta -- Way different from the old Old Crustacean. Blonde, not dark; sweet and light and bitter, not bitter and hard and menacing. New age stuff.
Southern Tier Back Burner -- Everything Southern Tier does well: big malt, big hops, big body, and not clogging the pipes. Finesse? Yeah, in 14" naval rifle style.
Alesmith Old Numbskull -- A clearly big beer, but light on its feet, nimble. Orson Welles dancing ballet. Impressive achievement, and one I like...but I like da heavy heavy monsta sound, too.
21st Amendment Lower De Boom -- Only one I finished. Good stuff, big but drinkable, and not overly zealous on the hopping.
DuClaw Devil's Milk -- Fat all around, big in every direction, this is a great example of how Jim Wagner hits the mark every damned time...but never gets the cred. Underrated brewery.
Summit Old Blaggard -- Tasted kind of worty, grainy, but delicious. Sometimes that really, really works, and this is one of them, because it adds a huge note of freshness in a style that benefits from it.
Pizza Boy Wonder Whine -- Always impressive, Pizza Boy delivers again in a beer that was one of the biggest I had all afternoon (12.5%) but the fruitiest and most varied. Fun!
Smuttynose Barley Wine -- Wow. A throwback, not a fossil. One guy at the bar was not impressed, I told him: this is what barleywine tasted like in the 90s. Back when there were fewer of us to please, and brewers brewed for themselves. Hat tip to Smutty for staying on that: heavy malt, big yeasty esters, just enough hop. An unshaven, unapologetic barleywine.

Verdict: Stellar event!

A Pilsner Urquell story

The first was in September. I was at the brewery in Pilsen, in the Czech Republic. We saw the huge, modern brewery with the big copper brewing kettles (heated by direct fire) and the massive stainless fermentation and maturation tanks . . . all aboveground. Then we were led below ground, into nine kilometers of tunnels cut through the native sandstone.


Down here, in the dim, wet halls where all Pilsner Urquell used to be lagered in great wooden barrels, they still make a small amount of it in the old, traditional way: fermented in open vats, aged in the big barrels that are still made by an onsite cooperage, and cooled by the natural temperature of the earth. They do that to make sure the beer made the modern way tastes the same as the old school stuff.

Vaclav handing Thomas his first beer

And there I was, in the very birthplace of pilsner, drinking fresh-as-life beer tapped directly from those barrels, with none other than the Pilsner Urquell brewmaster, a huge blond bear of a man named Vaclav Berka. It was cool, deliciously zingy with Saaz hop aroma and bitterness, and fantastically fresh.

The second moment was in mid-October. It was my son’s 21st birthday, and I managed to get him to hold off having a drink until 4:30 in the afternoon. That was when we went to a Pilsner Urquell event (at City Tap House), and my son’s first legal beer was a Pilsner Urquell, tapped and handed to him by a huge blond bear of a man . . . named Vaclav Berka. I got the next one, and it was cool, deliciously zingy with Saaz hop aroma and bitterness, and fantastically fresh....


And you can read the rest of that story here. It's a trade journal piece, but a good piece. And I have a follow-up, too. Yesterday I picked up a liter of unpasteurized Pilsner Urquell in the beautiful bottle you see to the left. I got it from the people at Muller Beverage, who told me it was one of only 60 in the country (edit: Ahhh...no. It was actually one of 60 that Muller got, which is quite a bit different! I was moving fast, and it was a simple misunderstanding. My apologies to all). They also told me I should drink it right away, because it had been held up in shipping because of Hurricane Sandy (that bastard).

So I did. I picked up some lobsters at a local supermarket (I'd say where and give them a plug, but they sold me a piece of bad bluefish at the same time, so screw 'em), got some barbecue mushrooms at the farmer's market, and went home to Cathy and Thomas. I popped open the liter, poured it into two beautiful Pilsner glasses I got at the Grey Lodge some years back and cherish, and Thomas's mug (which you see in Vaclav's big hand above), and we drank that sweet thing... And we all said, hey, that's pretty good! And it was. I hope the whole Express Shipped Cold thing works out, because then we'll see more of this kind of thing, and it won't just be lucky journalists and bar owners who get this delicious stuff.

Victory brings you: Hop Terroir!

"Terroir" is a French word we usually think of in relationship to winemaking. It means "land," or "earth," and is shorthand for goût de terroir, literally "taste of the earth." Winemakers talk of terroir as the totality of the effect of place on grapes and wine: the soil, the altitude, the latitude, the surrounding topography, the climate, the local flora and fauna.

Victory's Ron Barchet got a wild bee in his bonnet about terroir once Victory got to the size where they could start working directly with hop growers in Germany. That was in 2007. Before then, they'd used a broker, like most small brewers; going to Germany isn't cheap, dealing with individual farmers adds time to the process. But as Ron told us at Victory's Terroir des Tettnangs event late last month, there's no middleman, and you get a direct connection to the hop growers. They went directly to Tettnang (you can see Tettnang below, at the center of the map, right near Lake Constance in Baden-Wurttemburg, south of Stuttgart.


View Larger Map

Why Tettnang? "Because I love Tettnang hops!" Ron explained, with the same huge grin you see in the picture above. "Prima Pils has always had a higher percentage of Tettnang, because using whole flower Tettnang hops is how you get that great pils flavor." The man is obsessed with pilsners, no doubt, and to the area's great benefit; while so many other breweries have been brewing up one single-hop IPA after another (single-hop double IPAs, too), Victory's Braumeister Pils series has been introducing local lager lovers to one beautiful Noble hop after another, including one of my top 10 pilsners ever, the beloved Spalt Spalter Braumeister from about five years ago.

Ron brought that direct connection to Downingtown: two hops farmers from Tettnang came to America for this, and one, Ludwig Locher, spoke quite eloquently -- in English, Gott sei dank' -- of the Tettnang terroir: mild climate, idyllic scenery, and deep, deep soil. They grow almost all aroma hops here: Tettnanger Tettnang, Hallertauer Mittelfrüh, Perle, and a couple others. Ron's obsession is quite focused: Ludwig explained that there are about 100,000 tonnes of hops harvested every year; about 38,000 tonnes come from Germany. Tettnang produces about 1,780 very special tonnes.

For the 'experience,' we were presented with six beers, two at a time. The beers were as identical as Ron said they could possibly make them, excepting only the hops used: all Tettnang, but from different areas and times. The first pair were from two different farms. We nosed, tasted, chewed...and thought. Ron called out at the beginning of the discussion: "There is not a right answer!" Both beers exhibited flowery notes, but the first seemed more distinctly bitter, with grassy notes and some dandelion, while the second had a hint of pine. The thing I noticed was how -- as always -- when we focused on the beers, looking for differences, I got more out of the beer, the subtle substance of pils shone like glad light on water.

The next pair was, for most of us, the most demonstrably different: hops from the same farm (Misselhardt), but from Day 1 of the harvest and Day 4 of what Ludwig told us was usually a 12 day process. Day 1 had a beautifully fresh aroma, a bit on the sweet side, where Day 4 had a distinctly lemony catch to it. Very interesting; the two fields harvested were separated by 200 meters of altitude as well. There was clearly something at work here.

Ron mentioned something at this juncture that I wrote down: "Harmonious bitterness." It's a German term, he explained, a blending and coming together of the hop notes in the aroma, the bitterness, the kettle hops and aroma additions, creating a whole that is, for him -- and for me, now -- the pils experience, a beer gestalt.

Ludwig talked about the soil at the same time. It is heavy clay, with quite a bit of stone and rock: hard to work, low yielding, but with a 'very nice aroma.' He laughed when someone asked him what he thought of the whole evening. "This was not so interesting as a farmer. Now that I taste it, though..." and he looked around the room at the obviously excited crowd, he turned and looked at Ron, "...we should talk." Hops might be costing a bit more next year!

We had two more beers to try. The Strass, another farm, had that same floral character, and the lemon zest, but also had a pleasantly buzzy pepper note. The last beer was made with a blend of the other five hops, the Braumeister Blend. This...had harmonious bitterness. While the aroma was not as precise as the others, it was beautiful and bright. Great pilsner.

We had a meal then, good German stuff (excellent dumpling, and I can't believe I'm saying that). I couldn't help agreeing with my old friend Uncle Jack Curtin: "Victory is an exceptional brewery which doesn’t get enough national attention and...this region is still the best beer making and drinking part of the nation."

Victory does make it great to drink beer around here. Once again: happy anniversary!

Pils picnic at Johnny Brenda's

Tomorrow is the 2nd annual Pils Picnic at Johnny Brenda's in Fishtown. TEN pilsners on tap, starting at noon:
Dock Street Bohemian Pils
Manayunk Bill's Pils
Troeg's Sunshine Pils
Southampton Keller Pils
Stoudt's Pils
Victory Prima Pils
Sly Fox Pikeland Pils
Sly Fox Keller Pils- FIRKIN!
Victory Braumeister Pils- Saaz
Victory Braumeister Pils- Spalt

And it's a picnic, right? So here's the menu: fried chicken, deviled eggs, ham salad on a biscuit, house-made potato chips, and watermelon salad. Yes, indeedy: everything but the ants.

Mama's Little Yella Pils

Hats off to Oskar Blues for getting that beer name past the ATTTB. Damned fun-hating nimrods (and yeah, yeah, I know, zey are only follovink orderss...).

Mama's Little Yella Pils is, far as I know, Oskar Blues's first shot at a canned lager, and they did okay. The pour's yellowy-gold, and not bright, which troubles me a bit, to be honest. The aroma's good -- hopfen und malz, Gott erhalt's -- and it tastes clean enough, and it doesn't suffer from being over-hopped, a problem I have seen in some craft lagers. I had no problem putting this away in fairly short order.

But I have to say...west of Minnesota, I've noticed that craft-brewed pilsners tend to be on the heavy side. I thought that of the vaunted Moonlight Reality Czech Pils, too. Mama's just not quite as crisp as I'd like it. Her state-mate, New Belgium's Blue Paddle, is better, but still a bit...what, blunted?

I don't know if this effect would be better after a couple or not, but I did knock back two other cans in pretty short order late last week, so maybe it's not such a big deal. Doctor, please; some more of these...

Philly Beer Week 1 month away

I've cut back my involvement in Philly Beer Week this year -- for family reasons, not business -- but I'm still in a few things. Like two events at the Grey Lodge: the Wheat Beer Breakfast on March 7 (9-1, pay as you go, a great prelim to the big Craft Beer Festival) and our Upstate Beer Tasting on March 8 (5-8, also pay as you go). (Scoats and I will be headed upstate to gather the beers that week, and wouldn't you love to be a fly in the car for that one?)

I'm also hosting another event right after the Wheat Beer Breakfast (so if you couldn't get (or didn't want) tickets to the Craft Beer Festival, this is perfect for you), also in the Northeast, but it's not official yet so, I can't talk about it (except to say that it's a German and German-style beer event at the Blue Ox Bistro featuring some great German food and goodies from right across the street at Rieker's Prime Meats (if you've never been there, you're crazy nuts), 2-5, also pay as you go (and the smoked beer and smoked meat is gonna rock).

Which is a great Team Superfleisch lead-in to the other event I'm participating in, The Klash of the Kaisers at Triumph Old City, a no-holds-barred pilsner competition and tasting. This is the best Philly Beer Week memorial to Triumph brewer and craft lager pioneer Jay Misson that we could think of, and the line-up will include a pilsner from Jay's hand-written recipe, brewed at Triumph by Patrick Jones and Flying Fish brewer Casey Hughes. Any kind of pilsner -- Bohemian, German, Frisian, imperial -- is welcome, and we'll have a "pro" judging in the afternoon and a people's choice in the evening; both straight-up "do you like this" judging, not "strict to style" fascism. Pay as you go, 6-9, Thursday March 12.

And that's about it for me this year. I'll probably see some of you at some other events, and I would urge you to check things out thoroughly this year: there are some that are very different and sure to be entertaining.

Now brewing: Pils Jay's Way

I see on Facebook that Patrick Jones and Flying Fish brewer Casey Hughes are currently brewing a special batch of pilsner at the Triumph brewpub in Old City Philadelphia. It's "Pils Jay's Way." After I wrote a eulogy for Jay Misson here on the blog, I met and corresponded with a lot of his friends. As often happens, I learned a lot about a good friend after he died. I hate that, but I loved it, too.

One of those friends of Jay was Peter Kruse, who interned with Jay at Gordon Biersch back in 1996. He got in touch with me through the blog, and wound up mailing me a copy of a handwritten recipe Jay had given him: "Pils -- Jay's Way." I got it into Patrick and Casey's hands, and today they're brewing it. It's got just a touch of smoked malt in it, and I'm very curious to see how it comes out. It should be ready for a pilsner night Triumph is putting on Thursday March 12th of Philly Beer Week, the "Klash of the Kaisers"; more about that here. (And more about today's brew here; thanks for the note, Felicia!)

Tough to be at home while this is going on, but all I'd do is watch and take pictures. Drinking it is what I'm good at.

Thanks to Peter, and Patrick and Casey. Cheers, Jay!

Two German Pilsners

I'm slowly -- sorry -- working my way through a bunch of German samples sent to me by a new import company...so new that I've lost the press release and can't find it anywhere online. I'm pretty sure they're either associated with or piggybacking on Schwelmer Beer Imports in Brooklyn, so if you're interested, I'd start there.

In fact, one of the two beers I sampled tonight was Schwelmer Pils. It comes in a cute little 330 ml swingtop bottle with a decorative label, at 4.7% ABV. I remember having Schwelmer beers at a party a few years ago, and this bottle brought that back: quite solid, good malt underpinnings, hops sufficient unto the day, and quite good with tonight's pizza.

The second beer was Lammsbräu Organic Pilsner, at 4.8% ABV. They've been all-organic since 1986, according to their website, which is fairly early even for Europe. They have evidently been at it long enough to get good at it: this was quite nice. Drinkable, not overly crisp, good hop bitterness, and not cloying. Kind of sorry there was only one in the sample box: this is a three-glasser.

(I also had some Puckerfish at Flying Fish tonight, where Mark and I had our most successful signing for New Jersey Breweries so far. The Puckerfish was solidly sour, with the body to back it up, a beer with some depth. Casey Hughes shocked me by telling me it was around 8.2%; it drank like a much lighter beer. If you see this -- and there's not much of it -- grab some. I think you'll be surprised it's Flying Fish.)

Apostel Bräu Pilsner

I got a box of German beer samples from Schwelmer Imports in Brooklyn a while back, new stuff they're bringing in with the help of Horst Dornbusch (disclosure: Horst arranged and led a press junket to Bavaria I went on three years ago, paid for by the Bavarian Brewers Guild...on which I didn't have the best time of my life. Beer was good, though). I just opened one: Apostel Bräu Pilsner, from the Eichbaum Brauerei in Mannheim. I meant to do tasting notes on it...but the deep golden liquid has disappeared. From my glass. Into me.

It never developed much head, which was disappointing. It's different from most German pilsners I've tried. It's not whelmingly bitter, and has quite a bit of body, with the bitterness wicking in at the end to clean things up. Don't know that I'd order it first off, but I suspect that if the price was right, I'd ride this horse all night long. Solid, workmanlike...German.