This is BIG

Hi there. 

I know, I know: nothing for years. The blog is dead, long live Twitter.
But you know? Some things deserve more space. 

And this...is BIG.

No, literally, look at the label. I was digging in my Beer Fridge today, looking for two bottles of proper beer to make carbonades Flamandes (more on that later) on this disappointing snow day, when I found two bottles of Brimstone Big, a Maryland-brewed barleywine from the 1990s that we cherished back in the day. The brewed date on the label: October 1998.

Actually, there were three bottles, and one, not pictured, was actually older, and had been brewed at Brimstone. See, Brimstone was a great little Baltimore brewery, but things got tough for microbrewers in the mid-1990s (they did, despite what revisionists may tell you), and Brimstone was failing.

They got bought by Frederick Brewing, who made this in their large brewery outside Frederick, Maryland. Frederick also bought long-time Maryland microbrewer (I'm deliberately using period terminology here) Wild Goose, while continuing with their Blue Ridge brands. I visited Wild Goose on the Eastern Shore with my new wife (she's still my wife) back in 1991, when we were expecting our first child. We took a vacation to the Outer Banks to celebrate being just us one more time. It was a great week, though except for that stop at Wild Goose, and a quick stop at Weeping Radish, so-so for beer.

Anyway, all of this would eventually fail. Frederick was operating on a shoestring, owing back taxes, courting buy-out partners (at least one of which failed themselves, rather spectacularly). They were finally bought by Flying Dog out of Colorado in 2006, who saw the value in this large, sadly underutilized (and again: not a fan of "utilized," but this is an absolutely proper use of the word) brewery. Flying Dog invested in the brewery, and eventually moved all of their brewing operations there in 2010. Last I heard, they were expanding. 

All of that...is just to put this in context. Brimstone, and this bottle of Big in particular, is an American craft brewing fossil, a relic. As is, I suppose, my Beer Fridge (which I got for free from someone who was upgrading back in 1993; it was old then, but has never stopped running), and me, to hear some people talk. 

But I saw this bottle, and then I opened it, and smelled it, and...for some reason I just had to blog. I dunno, old habits, I guess. So let's talk about this fossil. 

A

As you can see, it poured tremendously bright, largely thanks to sitting upright for at least sixteen years, I suppose. The bottom was covered with a well-compacted layer of, as we always called it, mung.

It had an oxygen-scavenging cap, but the beer is beautifully oxidized, in that sherry/dried fruit way that barleywines get, not the wet cardboard smell that lesser beers develop. Sherry, dried cherries, a touch of old-school hair tonic, and even some clean malt. Amazing, really, and a testament to Marc Tewey's brewing (and packaging) skills...and maybe that cap technology. There's persistent carbonation; 20 minutes after the pour, there are still small, steady streams of bubbles rising. I kinda wish I'd saved this till I was with Will Meyers at Cambridge Brewing; this is his metier indeed. 

Time to taste. The fruit is big, the malt is subdued. I remember Big as a fruitbowl of a barleywine; this fruit has dried, and soured just a touch. Definitely oxidized, but again, in a good way. There's no cardboard here, though there is a slight puckery astringence. No bitterness at all, but Big never was that bitter. The carbonation is firm, if not fizzy; it's one of the most pleasing parts of this. 

The body is about medium; I think there's been some secondary fermentation going on, because Big used to be, well, big in body as well as flavor. The finish is velvety, but the bubbles keep it from being clingy. 

If I had to ding this one, it would actually be on being a bit too sweet. I like the touch of tart, but there's too much residual sweetness, it's not balancing. Still, I'm looking for trouble, really. This is as solid a 20 year old beer as I've ever had, and I've had the chance to have quite a few. 

Which brings me back to the carbonades...you know you're living life right as a beer guy when you go to the fridge to get a bottle of beer for adding to beef stew -- even an exceptionally delicious Belgian version -- and you see a bottle of Westvleteren XII, and you think, 'Yeah, that'd be good to pour into a pot of meat,' and grab it without flinching. I'm putting a bottle of pre-AB Goose Island Peres Jacques in there, too. We're eating well tonight.

Huh. Might have to come back here more often. I see the lights still work. Just need to dust a few things off. See you around. No promises, but...see you around. 

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!

Split Thy Skull XXI in Philly tomorrow!

Back in the day...way back in the day, like in the 1990s, one of the premiere beer events in Philadelphia was Split Thy Skull, a barleywine/strong beer event at Sugar Mom's in Old City, originally put on by Philly's pioneer beer promoter, Jim Anderson. For whatever reason, it was always held on the day before Easter, and -- thank you! -- in the afternoon. We'd crowd in the basement bar, eat sandwiches and red beet eggs, and scarf down glasses of beers that started at 7% and headed north from there. That's where I had my first Yards Old Bart, various iterations of Dock Street's barleywine, draft Kulmbacher G'frorns, and Rogue Old Crustacean. That's also where I first met Nodding Head founder Curt Decker, when both of us were "pretty well banged up," as Tom Peters puts it.

Oddly enough, Split Thy Skull was, in a way, the earliest genesis of the Session Beer Project. I distinctly remember supping a glass of cask-conditioned Young's Old Nick barleywine (at a quaintly mellow 7.3%, which would damned near get it laughed out of today's STS), and thinking -- I could point to the spot where it occurred to me, it's so sharp in my mind -- 'My God, this is so good; I wish it were about 3.5% so I could drink it all day.' The seed of an all-day drinking tasty beer was planted, and would come to fruition years later.

But enough history! Because tomorrow is Split Thy Skull XXI, to be held from 1-6 at Tattooed Mom, 530 South Street, and as always, it's gonna be a doozy. It's PAYG, with singles and flights, from over a dozen big fat beers of all types (and I hope some true barleywines are among 'em!). They don't usually release a list until the actual event, but they slipped me a few names that will be there. Check it: Pizza Boy Wonder Whine (12.5%); Southern Tier Back Burner (10.5%); Alesmith Old Numbskull (11%). Woof!

So...get on your bike, call up Uber or Lyft, take the bus, or get a friend to pick you up when you're done, because if you do this right, you'll be done. Not sure if I can make it this year or not, but if I see you there...Cheers!

Joe Sixpack puts me in the Wayback Machine

From Don "Joe Sixpack" Russell's Weekly Update email newsletter today, a note that took me way, way back:

Orkney Skull Splitter is making a big deal about sending Philly it's "first" U.S. draft ever. Its supposed debut is next Thursday (1/24) at P.O.P.E. (South Philly). I coulda sworn I'd had it on draft before, so I checked my notes and found that Jim Anderson, the former Philly beer entrepreneur, served a cask of it at his appropriately named Split Thy Skull barleywine fest 12 years ago... Just for kicks, check out what else was on tap at Sugar Mom's (Old City) on April 14, 2001:

• Hair of the Dog Fred
• Heavyweight Old Salty
• New Road Ichor
• Nodding Head Old Willie's Ghost
• Rogue Imperial Stout
• Schloss Eggenberger Samichlaus
• Stoudt's Scotch Style
• Valley Forge Imperial Stout
• Victory Blacker and Tanner
• Weyerbacher Quad
• Yards Old Bart 

I borrowed this from the Tattooed Mom's website.

Look at that list. Heavyweight, New Road, Valley Forge: all closed (though Heavyweight's Tom Baker owns/brews at Earth, Bread + Brewery, and New Road brewer Brian O'Reilly is the famed head brewer at Sly Fox). Nodding Head: new brewer. Stoudt's: substantially different brewery and beer line-up. Victory: much bigger and building a very large production brewery. Weyerbacher: moving into a large expansion this week. Yards: split up, and booming.

Things change...but they remain the same, too. Great beers in this town. Great beer people. And yes...Split Thy Skull XVII is on for March 30 (as always, the day before Easter, from which stems my long-running habit of having a few very strong beers before singing the Easter Vigil mass) at Tattooed Mom's. Haven't been in a while; maybe it's time to take up that cross again. Thanks for the wake-up call, Don!

Old Bart Strikes Again

I hadn't had enough Yards Old Bart New Year's Eve at Dawson Street. But I didn't really want to drive the whole way into Philly again...

Luckily I had another option: Tuesday night, Old Bart Day 6, featured a firkin of the stuff at the Hulmeville Inn, which is cool, the hangout of a bunch of buddies, and ridiculously close to my home. So I rolled down the hill, and found the usual suspects, plus two Yards bigshots, Steve Mashington and Tom Kehoe. And yes, that's a picture of Tom, with a firkin that has a picture of Tom's head attached...along with a wig and a black cape of sorts, and thereby hangs a tale.

The Hulmeville has a reputation for swarming firkins and draining them in short order. No way that's happening with 10+% Old Bart, says Kehoe! Oh, yeah, it will, says owner Jeff Lavin. By the time the trash-talking was done, a wager was made. If the firkin took more than 45 minutes to drain, Jeff would put all of Yards beers on tap at once, an all-Yards week. But if it took less than that, Kehoe would "dance with the firkin."

No suspense: it took 31 minutes (and I helped!), including the three pints of yeasty mung some brave souls took to help the cause ("Don't get far from the men's room after that," I overheard (Jeff had a reserve pin of Old Bart, and replaced their beer smoothies, no charge)). Kehoe was one hell of a sport: he danced with the firkin, first to "The Time of My Life" and then, quite appropriately, to "Dancin' With Myself."

The beer was great, again. "We're gonna have to bottle this next year," Mash said to me. Well, yeah! And make more of it, too! Enjoy the dance...

Old Bart returns at Dawson Street Pub

That's Dave Landrecht, the guy who was lucky enough to get the very first commercially-poured glass of Yards Old Bartholomew at the Dawson Street Pub tonight. That's the return of Old Bart after ten years away, a return that brewery folks told me took all of 20 minutes to agree on: 20 minutes discussion, brewkettle the next day, bang! That's the new Yards, folks.

And yeah, I was there and drank myself some of the Old Bart (as did my two bros-in-law, Carl & Chris Childs). That's Emily pouring our glasses from the cask on the bar. How was it? Dangerously firkin drinkable, was the general evaluation. Not wicked hoppy, not wicked sweet, not at all the heavy hit to the chops you'd expect from a 10.3% ABV barleywine. Woof. We also popped a traditional glass of Snow Goose, the big goose-head tap just drew us on with memories of the good old days...and it was not disappointing. Nutty, tasty, malty...Goosey.

A great evening drinking beer, and a few great hours of 2009 yet to come.

Cheers! Happy New Year!