Sleepless in Pittsburgh

Got an invite to come out and be a "guest lecturer" at Penn Brewing's "Brew U" -- a day-long beer appreciation/brewery tour/beer cooking demo in January again, and sure, any excuse for a paid trip to Pittsburgh, I'm on it. Oh, wait...I have to drive out the morning after a bourbon tasting for the firehall guys in Somers Point, NJ with my buddy (and New Jersey Breweries co-author) Mark Haynie? Ummm...okay! So yeah, we tried 14 whiskeys, had some beers and a monster good dinner, and I got up around 6 AM, grabbed a great diner breakfast, drove home and changed, and...headed west.

Despite multiple coffees, didn't have to stop once on the 300+ mile trip -- I had a full tank of diesel -- and ran into no traffic...until I got off onto the Parkway east of Pittsburgh. Things turned to crap rapidly, so I got off -- shoulda been on top of the traffic and just hit the Pour House in Monroeville, but I was flying on intuition -- and twisted my way through some back streets to D's. Well, yeah, that's better. A glass of something before I dive deeper into the traffic...Troegs T2? Perfect! Great hops, slidey malt, brisk edge to it...and that doesn't do it justice. A thoroughly enjoyable beer, and if my hotel were around the block, I'd have a couple more, but...Onward.

Now it's decision time. I'm early, after that no-hassle run across the state, so I've got time before I meet Penn Sales Mahoff Eric Heinauer for dinner at the brewery. Hit the Church? Tempting. East End? I already know Scott's not there. Maybe Piper's...no, the traffic will kill that. Then I got a text from my man Sam Komlenic, copy editor for Whisky Advocate, essentially telling me that if I were in Pittsburgh and didn't get to Wigle Whiskey, I wasn't a man. Normally, this kind of pronouncement has zero effect on me, but in this case, Sam was right. I aimed the Jetta for The Strip, and started cursing rush hour traffic. Got there in time for a quick lookaround, and Eric Meyer was, luckily, sticking around to meet a guy who wanted to have a bachelor party there. We shook hands, and he gave me a quick tour.

Wigle is clean and sharp, and ready for guests (you can book tours now, and starting in March, when the new law about distillery sampling and sales goes into effect, they'll be having regular visiting hours). They're making wheat and rye whiskey (of course!) with locally-grown organic grain, which is pretty damned cool. What's even better is that the spirit's off to a good start -- nice clean white dog, with appealing fruity notes -- and they're aging in large barrels; they hope to have aged spirit available late in 2012. Good time, and Eric was a friendly, informed host...but I had to run, now.

I buzzed over to the Priory Hotel (Penn puts me up there when I do events for them (yes, I was paid for my speech at Penn, and my room was paid for), and I've taken to staying there whenever I'm in Pittsburgh: real nice, and an easy walk to the brewery (and a couple other places, like Max's Allegheny and the Park House)), checked in, dropped off my stuff, put some electronics on the charger, and walked to the Brewery...I've been through this drill too many times to drive.

After a brisk trot to the brewery, I was quickly seated with Eric, and got my nose into my first glass of Penn Dark in way too long. Then I had another. Then we had some food -- pierogies, soft pretzels -- and I had a Kaiser Pils. And then a Märzen.

Now...I don't tell you that in such rapid-fire order to either impress you with my speed-drinking abilities (it took place over about 90 minutes, actually), or to cause you concern about my intake (it took place over about 90 minutes...and I did say I was walking). I note them bang-bang-bang like that (okay, there was a Jägermeister shot in there before the Märzen, too...hey, we're German, okay? It was the right thing to do after sauerbraten!) because the thing that leapt out at me was a perceived improvement in quality in all of these beers, and all of it circling round the qualities that make them lagers. They all seemed better-integrated, the Märzen had a richer body and luscious malt character, the Kaiser was not just hoppy but properly bitter, and the Dark was smoothly drinkable without the slightly husky catch that used to be the slight imperfection that always bugged my otherwise complete enjoyment of this beer. I was running these taps, because I wanted to see if they were working on one beer or on their brewing...and I was liking the answer.

But we wanted to wander a bit, so we headed out to the Teutonia Männerchor club, a couple blocks away. Eric's a member (though he had to get caught up on his dues before we could get served; oh, that never happens at PA clubs...), and we dutifully had one bottle each of Penn Pilsner (long the flagship, and still over half of brewery sales, its proportion slipping (though total sales are going right up), and it's probably because craft beer drinkers are getting more savvy and more demanding)). Then we switched to Spaten Pils, and I bought us a round of Jameson (because I was pumped about Irish whiskey that week), and we talked...but hey, that's just stuff. I went back to the Priory, and went to bed...

...and woke up at 5:30. And couldn't get back to sleep. What the hell! Sigh. So I got up, got dressed, did a little set-up work on the computer...and headed across the river to The Strip for breakfast and some shopping. If you've been reading this blog for a year or more, you know I love to go to Pamela's P&G on 21st for breakfast...but they weren't open this early.

So I took a Facebook friend's recommendation and went to DeLuca's. Well, baby! Where you been all my breakfast-eating life?! Dropped at the counter, got a cup of joe going (and damned good coffee, too), and checked the menu. The prices looked a bit...high, truly, but okay, I ordered the breakfast burrito with choice of meat: I took kielbasi. It was ten bucks. Grumble, grumble -- Holy CRAP! It should have been delivered by overhead crane; a foot or more long, about 4" wide, and easily 2" high, stuffed bulging full with eggs, onions, kielbasi (a LOT of it, too), and fried spuds, with "spanish sauce" and a slice of American cheese on top, decorated with one more chunk of kielbasi. Great recommendation, and please, forget everything I said about this monster meal being pricey. Woof.

Three cups of coffee later, I walked next door to Prestogeorge, a reassuringly old-timey coffee roaster, and after some conversation, picked up a pound of Sumatra (which is what we're running through the machine now, BTW, and it's just delish). Wandered around a bit, then moved the Jetta up to 21st and went into La Prima...for more coffee. I had a cup of espresso, and got a pound of Fair Trade Mexico Chiapas, for old time's sake.

Buzzing by now, I decided to head over to the Market and wait for East End's Growler Shop to open in another 45 minutes. Naturally, I decided to have more coffee. I dropped anchor one more time, and went into 21st Street Coffee and Tea, and -- eventually -- got a cup of Bolivian coffee. 21st is unabashedly elitist about your coffee; they very carefully made me a fresh single cup and just as carefully let me know that if I put cream or sugar in it, they'd mock me. Okay, I can play that game; I tried it straight up -- me, a cream no sugar guy -- and it was quite good, easily good enough to drink that way, which made all of us reasonably happy. It was very good coffee. And the wifi and bathroom were clean and efficient, and the other customers were nice.

But you know, it was just another caffeinated waystation on the road to beer -- and by now, I needed a glass to tamp down all this jitter! Doors opened, I was in, and first in line, followed Big Daddy Steve down to the shop. Scan the taps...Session: Fermette Rouge. Try one? Sure! Spicy, hoppy, refreshing, dry finish -- let's do it. Growler in hand, I headed back to the Priory to get showered and dressed for my teaching gig.

Parked the Jetta, grabbed my notes, and headed up to the "classroom"...and got a glass of Penn Gold. Seemed like the right beer for 10:15 AM, and it was: that same extra-glassy smoothness, teasingly delicate malt character...yeah. Made a conscious decision that I'd have to have a talk with the caffeine and not drink too fast. Luckily, people started to wander in, and we got conversing -- great people at these things! -- and there was no problem.

I talked about lagers, how they get so little respect, and how I hoped people would take advantage of the great stuff Penn laid down. They were, no fear! We wrapped up, people were happy, and...it was time to go. Actually, it was earlier than I'd thought, so on the way out of town, I slipped over to Piper's Pub (missed it on the way in, right?) and got a pint of Helltown Insidious IPA on cask -- natch, that's why I went to Piper's, for their great cask ale! Got into a whisky conversation with the folks next to me, had a great dish of curry for the road (hadn't had anything to eat since DeLuca's...didn't need anything!), tried samples of two meads from Laurel Highlands (Bochet and Traditional)...I just don't think I'm a mead guy, like I'm not a tequila guy (or, I'm starting to think, a pinot noir guy). They were okay, but didn't really set me on fire. The Insidious did, by the way: quite tasty and snappy, and in beautiful condition.

That was it. Had a smooth run home (stopped at Sly Fox for one quick O'Reilly's Stout with some friends), and went to bed.

Next up: finally, the Tettnanger Terroir story from Victory, just in time for their 16th birthday this week! (I'd have had it sooner, because it was substantially cool as balls, but...I misplaced my notebook. Got it, and we'll roll that.)

4 hours in Pittsburgh, and many miles to run

Work on Pennsylvania Breweries 4 continues, and I wrapped up western PA last week...er, the week before last. Sorry, this took a while to find the time to write. Briefly, here's what happened.

I left the house early Wednesday morning, the 13th, running down the Turnpike with the dawn at my back. 300-some miles later, I pulled into the snowy parking lot at Penn Brewery. That's right, Penn, the place I wrote this obituary for in November. What a spring I had in my step as I walked down Vinial Street to the offices, and what a pleasure it was to have former -- and current -- marketing manager Eric Heinauer open the door. Tom Pastorius came down the stairs and the first thing I said to him was "Congratulations." I met the three investors -- Linda Nyman, Sandy Cindrich, and Corey Little -- some very talented and experienced people who are bringing a lot to the table, and was introduced to brewmaster Andy Rich...again. Er, I, um, think I met you at the bock tapping in 2008, but, um, I was pretty banged up by then. "Hey, it's okay, so was I. It was a good one."

Tom showed me around the brewery. The kegging line was sold, the bottling line was sold, and the furnace is broken: so no kegs, no bottles, and no restaurant. But...the new kegging line is shipping from Germany, new bottlling line will be in soon, and they plan to have their beer back on the market shortly (bottles by the end of January, kegs sooner -- maybe now?). The restaurant? Early April. It's been rough -- "The first few weeks," Tom said, "all I did was write checks and apologize to suppliers." -- and yes, they did break down and brew a pale ale to have beer ready in time for a sneak preview on December 30th, but Penn is back. And it's damned good to have them. I bid them farewell and took off.

I tooled down to South Side to the Hofbräuhaus and my meeting with brewer Eckhard Kurbjuhn. That went well, lubricated by a half liter of the new hellerbock -- so smooth, malty and solid, good eating. We talked about the place, he was quite forthcoming, and they're doing well. The place was almost empty -- and when a place that size is empty, it is EMP-TEE -- but it was an early weekday afternoon in January, eh? We took a look at the kitchen (Huge!), the dining room (nice), and the brewery...which is right out there in the open anyway. A good time, an affable guy, and I moved on.

I cut across the Hot Metal Bridge, cut across town, and was soon churning up the long hill out of town on I-279, windows open and music blaring (it was up to 34 degrees!). Got into Slippery Rock and walked into North Country. Love that place, with all the amazing woodwork and the determinedly populist feel to it (er, and the really good beer may have something to do with it), and it was starting to roll at 4:30 in the afternoon. I saw Bob McCafferty at the bar, so I walked up, we bullshit each other a bit, and then Sean McIntyre grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, and we all went upstairs (which is open now, I hadn't known!) to have some beers. He had one on, the Honey Bear Brown that was simply unique, I'd never tasted anything like it: a beer made with honey and brown malt that just kind of expanded in my mouth. I got a growler of that to take home.

I would have loved to stay a lot longer, but I had one more stop that day: Voodoo Brewery, in Meadville. Matt Allyn wasn't there -- more about that to come -- but brewer Justin Dudek was in the house (I'd met him back in November) and we drank a bit and talked a bit. Voodoo's got beer in the tanks, but things are kind of juggling right now, with Matt Allyn's attention split between Voodoo, Blue Canoe, and that new project I hinted about...oh, hell, you probably all know anyway: Matt's brewing at Straub now. So what's going to happen with these other two projects is not something that's pinned down certain. Justin is certainly capable of doing the brewing, but Matt was doing a lot of traveling promoting Voodoo. We'll see. The beer's excellent, I'll tell you that.

On Justin's suggestion, I ate dinner at Chovy's in Meadville, right across the street from my motel (cheap, clean, America's Best Value Inn, good basic room). It was good! I had a spinach and feta thing on pasta, and it was delish with the glass of Italian white I got. Had a good time talking to the folks at the bar, and then went back to my room, read a bit, did some e-mailing, and went to bed. It was really cold, and I snugged down.

Next morning, I got up fairly early, headed up the road, and took Minerva's suggestion for a bagel breakfast in Edinboro. As you can see, it was pretty damned cold. In fact, while there was snow all along here, driving down the hill into Edinboro added almost a foot to what was on the ground. They apparently have their own little microclimate, and extra snow is not uncommon. It was awesome.

On up the road to BrewErie, where I was meeting owner Chris Siriani and brewer Gary Burleigh at 9. I parked, crunched my way over the snowpack to the door, and got there just as Gary was opening the door. He looked at me, very seriously, and said, "You didn't leave your dad in the car again, did you?" NO, I assured him quickly -- Gary recalled that my father usually went along on these trips as backup driver (and fulltime tourist) -- and I told him about my father's health (which is actually holding up pretty well lately; he's eating well, and sounds just like the old Sir on the phone, even looks good), but said that it's almost like he's still with me: he's calling or texting me every two hours! (And I'm glad you do, Sir, keep it up.)

We had coffee, and talked about how the BrewErie had come together in this big space that was the original home to Erie Brewing (as Hoppers), then a fine dining restaurant with beer called Porters, and then the brewpub. I tasted beers (safe to say Gary's not a hophead, but he does keep an IPA on that satisfies "the most finicky drinkers," he said with a wry grin. He also had a Girl Stout Cookie, a chocolate peppermint stout that was surprisingly accurate. I like it when brewers fool around like that.

A short run down to Erie Brewing was next, and Jim Hicks gave me the lowdown on the new owners and the new direction. The new direction? Bold. Erie's doing casks regularly, they've got a whole -bender line now -- Railbender, Ryebender, Smokebender, and Oakbender -- twisted off their flagship Railbender Scottish ale, they're messing with Ol' Red, too...and Jim is pushing hard for some sour beers. They're doing well: like I just saw in the Wyoming Valley, craft beer acceptance has come to Erie. There are a lot of places putting crafts on, and Erie Brewing's picking up a lot of that. They're looking at the in-house tasting room thing (a lot of brewers I've talked to for this said "That thing Tröegs did"), with a small menu and pint sales. Erie's got money, they've got direction, and they've got Jim.

I got out, had to get down to Straub for my next to last stop of what was already a long day. I left Erie about 1:00, and it was warm, up to 42! Sunny, fresh, music, air, and man, I got east of town, and it got cold again! It was a chilly but pretty run across the southwest corner of New York and then south to St. Marys through the Allegheny National Forest. I love this part of the state (except for the traffic lights in the small towns), and the Jetta just purred.

I got to Straub right on time: 3:30. And there was Matt Allyn waiting at the office door, starting to wonder where I was. We went right in to the Eternal Tap (as I said on Facebook: Many things change. Some are Eternal.) and got some beers. Pretty soon we were joined by Dan Straub and Bill Brock. Bill (also a family member; his mother is a Straub) is the new CEO. There have been some big changes at Straub, and Bill's one of them. He's the first CEO not to come up from the floor. And Matt, who is "interim brewmaster" -- yes, Tom Straub has left the company -- is the first brewmaster not to come up from the floor. "It's culture shock," Bill admitted.

They stressed, however, that there was no intention to change the beer. Matt's working on the process, but the recipe, the formulation stays the same. "50% of what's done here," said Matt, "is standard German lager technique. About 30% is modern techniques. And about 20% is "we do it because it works." We're re-evaluating everything. Most of it we'll keep, some of it we'll change." It sounded like most of what they were looking to improve was the shelf-life, and what was, in the opinion of most of the people in western PA I talked to about this, a persistent problem with diacetyl. I can't speak to that: I have learned that I have a very high sensory threshold for diacetyl, and just don't -- can't, actually -- smell it until it's overwhelming. That's one thing they're working on, anyway.

Another thing is a line of craft lagers. "Not a lot, not too much," said Brock. "We don't want to re-invent ourselves, or re-introduce ourselves. we don't want to do ales. We don't do ales. We're Straub. We've got all this modern equipment now, and we're looking at it, and thinking, "What would Peter Straub do?"" And Matt said, "I think he'd spend about half an hour looking at everything, and marveling at it, and then he'd say, "Let's brew, let's get to work."" I like to think he's right. When will we see this stuff? This year, maybe by September. Should be fun.

Then we went back to the Eternal Tap, and had a couple beers. It was great hanging out with these guys, and listening to Dan and Bill tell brewery and family stories. But...I had to go, because I had to get home. I did, however, stop on the way at Olde New York in State College, which I'd heard about many times: it's owned by the folks who ran the late, beloved Schnitzel's in Bellefonte. Well...the atmosphere isn't Schnitzel's, nothing is, but the beer and the food was pretty damned good. I was there to meet my buddy Sam Komlenic, because I had something for him: a bottle of George T. Stagg I got for him because his State Store had none (I got it at my State Store, so don't go thinking I went out-of-state and got illegal or something). It was a pleasant dinner -- always is with Sam -- and then...I drove three hours back home. All done with western PA. A week later, I'd be done with the northeast. The book's continuing...

That Long Day, Part Last

When we got back to Otto's, Thomas -- you remember him, the kid who had a big smoked turkey sangich about two hours ago? -- sez, "I'm hungry." Me, I haven't had lunch yet, and it's 4:30. And I owed Sam lunch. So we sat, and Leah (have you met Leah? Sam says she's a goddess, and I'm going to build a temple to her in the backyard) takes our beer orders: I got a cask Arthur's IPA (have you met Arthur? He's Charlie's other cat) and Sam got the pilsner. At first, I think the pilsner has a sweet, plastic smell to it, but as I clear things out, I realize it's just a lot of noble hop aroma. I might have kept it, but my IPA is wicked good. Then Charlie sends some Tripel D over, and Sam and I are soon acting like cats in the 'nip. If we'd had bigger glasses, I might have moussed some into my beard so I could keep smelling it all the way home, but I didn't want to waste any. We got mussels and frites and I want you to know: not one mussel wasn't open. Not one, dammit! Then Sam got a Mt. Nittany Pale Ale on cask, and it was just about unbearably good, drink-drink good, and if it hadn't been for the Tripel D it would have been the best beer on the table. Leah approached with food: a half-pound rare burger ground out of local spent-grain-fed cow, with frizzled onion straws, barbecue sauce, and lumpy strong gorgonzola. I didn't want to put it down, and I kept stopping to lick the gorgonzola off the plate, and Doc had one too with bleu cheese, and Sam had some crazy good damn thing and it was all nom nom nom and drink drink drink.

And it was all good. When can we go back to Otto's? And Thomas drove home, and did a good job at it, too.

That Long Day, Part II

When we got to Elk Creek Cafe (see below), it was still raining, so we hustled in and grabbed two spots by the end of the bar. Owner Tim Bowser was behind the bar, and after I got Thomas set up with a root beer, Tim and I and brewer Tim Yarrington got to the interview in the back room over glasses of the new Mid State Trail Nut Brown Ale: this glass seemed to have a mineral tang to it -- "Water," Tim said, and shook his head -- but later it tasted fine: on the dry side, unlike the sweeter Brookie Brown. Might have been something in the glass.

What we talked about in the interview will have to wait for the book; mostly history and philosophy, really. Why Tim wanted to start this place (he'd been thinking about it for almost ten years, and he and I had talked it over at Selin's Grove five years ago); why he did the Equinox Cafe coffeehouse before; how very much-pro brewer Tim Yarrington wound up in Millheim (Tim was one of four GABF gold-winning brewers who put in resumes for the position); and the three legs of the Elk Creek Cafe (house-brewed beer, locally-grown and sourced food, local and regional music). It's an interesting story, and one that I think has deep meaning for the future of craft beer in America.

But I also ran the taps. I was quite a bit happier this time than before. The beers were okay before, even good, and I've always liked the Poe Paddy Porter. But this time they had a new dimension, a new life, and I could tell Tim Y. was happier with them. "I've got it dialed in now," he said. Tim doesn't do big beers very often; he does 3.5-6% beers, and he's all about balance. It's working; I'd have been happy to have a full pint of any of these, including the new Penns Valley Pilsner, a blocky, bitter pils with some real heft to it, well-built without any flab, and a strong dose of Hallertauer in the nose. This was about the time my friend Sam Komlenic showed up, and had a glass of the Pilsner. He'd had it before and was looking for more.

Thomas had a smoked turkey sandwich, and enjoyed it. I finally tried the "shrub," a set of flavored sweet vinegars, locally-made: they are mixed with seltzer and ice. I had the ginger, and it was wicked refreshing. Sam suggested it would be good with barbecue, and I think he's right. He and I walked up to the Penns Valley Meat Market and got some meat, which I always do when I visit Elk Creek. I got their very flavorful jerky, and two links of smoked kielbasa: delish.

We left, Sam following, and drove down to Otto's. We left Sam's van there, and Sam proceeded to take us on a tour of Penn State main campus. Wow. We were duly impressed by the size and beauty of the campus. Kinda made me proud to be Pennsylvanian. Then it was back to Otto's for the lunch I hadn't had time for at Elk Creek. More on that in the last installment.