Philly beer writer and colleague Don Russell has a real nice salute in his Joe Sixpack column today to Scott "The Dude" Morrison, one of the area's best, and kindest, brewers. If you can get to Sly Fox tonight for The Dude In Exile, I would urge you to do so. And drink my share: my daughter's school musical is tonight, so I'll be there in spirit only. Hope Scott finds a position in the area real soon...tip to any breweries looking for a dedicated brewing star!
Joe Sixpack A tip of the pint to Scott 'The Dude' Morrison Daily News 03/30/2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
“I’m with the Bushmills party.” The Colum Egan Interview, Part I
As I mentioned a bit ago, I got an invitation to have lunch with Colum Egan, the master distiller for Bushmills Irish Whiskey. That's him, raising a glass of Bushmills Original at a corner table at Tír na nÓg in Philly (16th & Arch), where we met two weeks ago.
A quick background: Bushmills was recently bought from French booze company Pernod-Ricard by English booze giant Diageo as part of Pernod's hugely complex buy-out of booze company Allied Domecq. Pernod owned both Bushmills and Jameson/Midleton, and sold off Bushmills, much the smaller of the two, to their rival, Diageo.
If that all seems confusing...it pretty much is, and you need a constant newsfeed to keep up with who owns who in the booze field these days. But what it comes down to is that Diageo has decided that Bushmills is a valuable property, and they're revving it up for a serious tilt at the world market. Hence Colum's visit to the U.S. for St. Patrick's week.
It was a beautiful day, not at all presaging the horrible sleety disaster we'd be experiencing just two days later, and I was actually ahead of schedule, arriving in Center City at 11:45 for our noon lunch date. Half an hour later, I had to call my Diageo contact, Laura Peet, to let her know that after having driven fruitlessly through two parking garages only to find no open spaces (I despise this process in Center City; just one more thing Philly has to solve), I was still on the streets.
Yes, mass transit fans, I know that Suburban Station is 20 yards from Tír na nÓg; but if there had been parking available, it would have been 30 minutes from my door to the bar, compared to 80 minutes by choo-choo, and I was jamming on a tight deadline day already. There is no good solution.
Laura called me back in two minutes; the Phoenix Building, where Tír na nÓg is located, has valet parking. I rushed over, stepped down the sidewalk, and entered Tír na nÓg.
"Can I help you, sir?"
“Yes, I’m with the Bushmills party.” What a fine, fine thing to say in an Irish pub!
As mentioned above, Colum was sitting with Laura in the corner in a very busy, happily noisy part of the bar (truth to tell, it was all like that; busy place). I only had 30 minutes to do an hour interview, so we skipped lunch, ordered a round of whiskeys (“What will you have?” asked Colum – first test – and I laughed. “You’re the master distiller: you order, I’ll drink!” He ordered two glasses of Black Bush with a bit of ice), and got right into the interview.
What is it that makes Irish whiskey Irish whiskey?
It is quite different. The whole history of Irish whiskey is unique. If you go back even as recent as 120 years ago, there would have been as many as 140 distilleries open in Ireland, making whiskey. Today there are only three. [Since then, just last week, actually, the Kilbeggan distillery began production again…so four distilleries. ] A very short timespan in the history of whiskey-making.
One of the main reasons for that was actually Prohibition. A lot of distilleries in Ireland at the time were independently-owned and quite small, and their biggest market, or perhaps their only market, was the States. Almost overnight, that market was closed to them. Of course, when you’re making whiskey today, you’re putting it in an oak barrel to sell it in another three to five years. A lot of distilleries just stopped making whiskey. Then they were not able to sell, so they didn’t make any money, so they just simply had to close.
Coming up to today, one of my main jobs is to keep that tradition and that heritage going. There’s a little saying there that goes: Bushmills isn’t good because it’s old, it’s old because it’s good. It’s a nice simple way of putting it. We’ve come through a lot of adversity and hard times. Hopefully, at the moment, things seem to be prospering for us after all that time. I like to think that the quality of our whiskey, the taste of our whiskey is contributing a lot to that.
What makes Bushmills whiskey different from other whiskeys of the world is the smoothness of the character. We distill the whiskey three times. When you distill a whiskey three times, you get this lovely, light, fruity whiskey with nice spicy, flowery notes.
We pay very particular attention to how we age the whiskey. We age the whiskey in different types of barrels. By law, in Ireland, for whiskey to be called Irish whiskey, it must be distilled in Ireland, matured in an oak barrel for a minimum of three years – and Bushmills is actually a minimum of five years – and made from a cereal, like barley, or wheat, or corn.
So what gives Bushmills its great taste is the triple distillation, but we also put it into these very high-quality oak barrels. I can get a [bourbon] barrel from Kentucky delivered to us at the distillery for about $50 a barrel; if I have to go to Spain [for sherry barrels], it costs me $750 a barrel.
That was one of the questions I had: where are you getting all the sherry barrels? They’re not easy to come by any more, are they?
Some sherry barrels are easy to come by; they’re very low quality! When it comes to Bushmills, when it comes to me, actually, I demand something very different, something very high quality. The reason for that, we have a great relationship with a family in Jerez, in Spain, in the sherry producing region. They cooper the barrels for us, to our specifications. Then they will put our lots of sherry into our oak barrels for two years. The sherry actually seasons the wood. They’ll take our lots of sherry out, they’ll send the barrels back to the distillery, and we’ll actually fill them within two weeks of receiving them.
They’re your barrels?
We pay for the wood, we pay the cooper, so we know exactly where the wood’s from, we know exactly who’s coopered them, and we know exactly what kind of wine’s been in there. One of the really tough jobs at the distillery is actually going to Spain and tasting some of the wine that’s coming out of there…
Do you reject any because of the quality of the wine coming out?
Aaaa, no, we’ve got such a good relationship with the cooper that there are very, very few casks that end up being a problem. It’s just fascinating over there, really. I thought that my grammy was the only one still drinking sherry, but when you’re out there, you really get the degree of passion they have for sherry.
We do a similar thing in Portugal with Sandeman. They will put tawny port in our oak barrels. We go to Sandeman every year and inspect our barrels. We go to Madeira Island, a small Portuguese island in the Atlantic, where they make Madeira wine, and that’s how we finish the 21 Year Old.
Another key difference between Irish and other whiskeys, I suppose, is that we don’t smoke our barley. There’s a complete absence of any smoky, peaty aroma.
[An interjection: Note that the definition of Irish whiskey is quite muddled by now, which is hardly Colum’s fault! To wit: Cooley is definitely Irish whiskey – it’s whiskey made in Ireland, after all – but it’s only twice-distilled, and their Connemara whiskey is peated. The triple-distillation’s not unique anyway: both Auchentoshan (Scotch single malt whisky) and Woodford Reserve (bourbon) are also triple-distilled. Then there’s the “pure pot still” vs. “malt whiskey” issue: Midleton, where they distill Jameson’s – which is definitely Irish whiskey – makes “pure pot still whiskey” with a mashbill of barley malt and unmalted raw barley. Bushmills is an all-malt whiskey.
What does all this mean? Well, as John Hansell told me recently while we were discussing this issue: “Irish whiskey is whiskey that’s made in Ireland.” That’s as close as you’re going to get to a rock-solid definition that’s going to hold off challenges. Now…do I think that’s the whole story? No. I think Colum’s original statement is actually pretty damned close, in a subjective sense: “…lovely, light, fruity whiskey with nice spicy, flowery notes.” There are still exceptions, but if “Irish whiskey” has a character, that’s it. In My Humble Opinion, of course. On with the interview.]
Can we back up a bit? You said that once the sherry cask gets back to the distillery, it’s usually filled within two weeks?
Yeah. We get the casks over to the distillery. You need to fill them as soon as possible: wood dries out, and then if you were to put something in the cask, it would just pour out through the staves. We try to do it in two weeks; it can take longer.
[Our whiskeys arrived at this point.]
You find with Black Bush, I really do, the sensation that, it’s so soft, it just floats on my tongue, it never really touches my tongue, just floats down, it’s like velvet down the back of your throat.
It was the first Irish whiskey I had that I liked.
It’s a great introduction. You have to be very careful when you use sherry casks. You don’t want to overdo it. I’m not trying to make a sherry, I’m not trying to make a port, I’m not trying to make a bourbon, I’m trying to get some notes from each of those cask types that will contribute to the basic spirit I’m making at the distillery.
[That's the end of Part I. More to come soon, now that I've finally got the hang of transcribing from my new digital voice recorder!]
A quick background: Bushmills was recently bought from French booze company Pernod-Ricard by English booze giant Diageo as part of Pernod's hugely complex buy-out of booze company Allied Domecq. Pernod owned both Bushmills and Jameson/Midleton, and sold off Bushmills, much the smaller of the two, to their rival, Diageo.
If that all seems confusing...it pretty much is, and you need a constant newsfeed to keep up with who owns who in the booze field these days. But what it comes down to is that Diageo has decided that Bushmills is a valuable property, and they're revving it up for a serious tilt at the world market. Hence Colum's visit to the U.S. for St. Patrick's week.
It was a beautiful day, not at all presaging the horrible sleety disaster we'd be experiencing just two days later, and I was actually ahead of schedule, arriving in Center City at 11:45 for our noon lunch date. Half an hour later, I had to call my Diageo contact, Laura Peet, to let her know that after having driven fruitlessly through two parking garages only to find no open spaces (I despise this process in Center City; just one more thing Philly has to solve), I was still on the streets.
Yes, mass transit fans, I know that Suburban Station is 20 yards from Tír na nÓg; but if there had been parking available, it would have been 30 minutes from my door to the bar, compared to 80 minutes by choo-choo, and I was jamming on a tight deadline day already. There is no good solution.
Laura called me back in two minutes; the Phoenix Building, where Tír na nÓg is located, has valet parking. I rushed over, stepped down the sidewalk, and entered Tír na nÓg.
"Can I help you, sir?"
“Yes, I’m with the Bushmills party.” What a fine, fine thing to say in an Irish pub!
As mentioned above, Colum was sitting with Laura in the corner in a very busy, happily noisy part of the bar (truth to tell, it was all like that; busy place). I only had 30 minutes to do an hour interview, so we skipped lunch, ordered a round of whiskeys (“What will you have?” asked Colum – first test – and I laughed. “You’re the master distiller: you order, I’ll drink!” He ordered two glasses of Black Bush with a bit of ice), and got right into the interview.
What is it that makes Irish whiskey Irish whiskey?
It is quite different. The whole history of Irish whiskey is unique. If you go back even as recent as 120 years ago, there would have been as many as 140 distilleries open in Ireland, making whiskey. Today there are only three. [Since then, just last week, actually, the Kilbeggan distillery began production again…so four distilleries. ] A very short timespan in the history of whiskey-making.
One of the main reasons for that was actually Prohibition. A lot of distilleries in Ireland at the time were independently-owned and quite small, and their biggest market, or perhaps their only market, was the States. Almost overnight, that market was closed to them. Of course, when you’re making whiskey today, you’re putting it in an oak barrel to sell it in another three to five years. A lot of distilleries just stopped making whiskey. Then they were not able to sell, so they didn’t make any money, so they just simply had to close.
Coming up to today, one of my main jobs is to keep that tradition and that heritage going. There’s a little saying there that goes: Bushmills isn’t good because it’s old, it’s old because it’s good. It’s a nice simple way of putting it. We’ve come through a lot of adversity and hard times. Hopefully, at the moment, things seem to be prospering for us after all that time. I like to think that the quality of our whiskey, the taste of our whiskey is contributing a lot to that.
What makes Bushmills whiskey different from other whiskeys of the world is the smoothness of the character. We distill the whiskey three times. When you distill a whiskey three times, you get this lovely, light, fruity whiskey with nice spicy, flowery notes.
We pay very particular attention to how we age the whiskey. We age the whiskey in different types of barrels. By law, in Ireland, for whiskey to be called Irish whiskey, it must be distilled in Ireland, matured in an oak barrel for a minimum of three years – and Bushmills is actually a minimum of five years – and made from a cereal, like barley, or wheat, or corn.
So what gives Bushmills its great taste is the triple distillation, but we also put it into these very high-quality oak barrels. I can get a [bourbon] barrel from Kentucky delivered to us at the distillery for about $50 a barrel; if I have to go to Spain [for sherry barrels], it costs me $750 a barrel.
That was one of the questions I had: where are you getting all the sherry barrels? They’re not easy to come by any more, are they?
Some sherry barrels are easy to come by; they’re very low quality! When it comes to Bushmills, when it comes to me, actually, I demand something very different, something very high quality. The reason for that, we have a great relationship with a family in Jerez, in Spain, in the sherry producing region. They cooper the barrels for us, to our specifications. Then they will put our lots of sherry into our oak barrels for two years. The sherry actually seasons the wood. They’ll take our lots of sherry out, they’ll send the barrels back to the distillery, and we’ll actually fill them within two weeks of receiving them.
They’re your barrels?
We pay for the wood, we pay the cooper, so we know exactly where the wood’s from, we know exactly who’s coopered them, and we know exactly what kind of wine’s been in there. One of the really tough jobs at the distillery is actually going to Spain and tasting some of the wine that’s coming out of there…
Do you reject any because of the quality of the wine coming out?
Aaaa, no, we’ve got such a good relationship with the cooper that there are very, very few casks that end up being a problem. It’s just fascinating over there, really. I thought that my grammy was the only one still drinking sherry, but when you’re out there, you really get the degree of passion they have for sherry.
We do a similar thing in Portugal with Sandeman. They will put tawny port in our oak barrels. We go to Sandeman every year and inspect our barrels. We go to Madeira Island, a small Portuguese island in the Atlantic, where they make Madeira wine, and that’s how we finish the 21 Year Old.
Another key difference between Irish and other whiskeys, I suppose, is that we don’t smoke our barley. There’s a complete absence of any smoky, peaty aroma.
[An interjection: Note that the definition of Irish whiskey is quite muddled by now, which is hardly Colum’s fault! To wit: Cooley is definitely Irish whiskey – it’s whiskey made in Ireland, after all – but it’s only twice-distilled, and their Connemara whiskey is peated. The triple-distillation’s not unique anyway: both Auchentoshan (Scotch single malt whisky) and Woodford Reserve (bourbon) are also triple-distilled. Then there’s the “pure pot still” vs. “malt whiskey” issue: Midleton, where they distill Jameson’s – which is definitely Irish whiskey – makes “pure pot still whiskey” with a mashbill of barley malt and unmalted raw barley. Bushmills is an all-malt whiskey.
What does all this mean? Well, as John Hansell told me recently while we were discussing this issue: “Irish whiskey is whiskey that’s made in Ireland.” That’s as close as you’re going to get to a rock-solid definition that’s going to hold off challenges. Now…do I think that’s the whole story? No. I think Colum’s original statement is actually pretty damned close, in a subjective sense: “…lovely, light, fruity whiskey with nice spicy, flowery notes.” There are still exceptions, but if “Irish whiskey” has a character, that’s it. In My Humble Opinion, of course. On with the interview.]
Can we back up a bit? You said that once the sherry cask gets back to the distillery, it’s usually filled within two weeks?
Yeah. We get the casks over to the distillery. You need to fill them as soon as possible: wood dries out, and then if you were to put something in the cask, it would just pour out through the staves. We try to do it in two weeks; it can take longer.
[Our whiskeys arrived at this point.]
You find with Black Bush, I really do, the sensation that, it’s so soft, it just floats on my tongue, it never really touches my tongue, just floats down, it’s like velvet down the back of your throat.
It was the first Irish whiskey I had that I liked.
It’s a great introduction. You have to be very careful when you use sherry casks. You don’t want to overdo it. I’m not trying to make a sherry, I’m not trying to make a port, I’m not trying to make a bourbon, I’m trying to get some notes from each of those cask types that will contribute to the basic spirit I’m making at the distillery.
[That's the end of Part I. More to come soon, now that I've finally got the hang of transcribing from my new digital voice recorder!]
Kilbeggan Distillery restarts Irish whiskey production
The Kilbeggan Distillery restarted whiskey production after 50 years of closure last Monday, March 19. Kilbeggan is run by the same Irish company that owns and operates the Cooley Distillery near Drogheda, northeast of Dublin. Kilbeggan is in County Westmeath, near the center of Ireland, not far from the old (and not currently operating) Tullamore Dew distillery.
Distillery chairman Jack Teeling said the whiskey from Kilbeggan (where Cooley has been aging whiskey for some years) will not be ready for release until 2014. Save your money.
Kilbeggan was licensed in the 1750s, which is bound to set off at least a small argument with Bushmills fans over which distillery is "actually" the oldest; more details on that coming up in my interview with Bushmills master distiller Colum Egan, which I hope to have up here later today.
Distillery chairman Jack Teeling said the whiskey from Kilbeggan (where Cooley has been aging whiskey for some years) will not be ready for release until 2014. Save your money.
Kilbeggan was licensed in the 1750s, which is bound to set off at least a small argument with Bushmills fans over which distillery is "actually" the oldest; more details on that coming up in my interview with Bushmills master distiller Colum Egan, which I hope to have up here later today.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
SBP #6: A-B Spring Heat Spiced Wheat
I talked to Anheuser-Busch brewer Florian Kuplent (that's him on the right) a couple weeks ago about A-B’s Spring Heat Spiced Wheat seasonal (that's him on the left). They’re doing a set of seasonals, and this one’s in the style of a Belgian witbier. The beer comes in at 5.2%, so it qualifies under the SBP rules. I've got a short interview with Florian for you, then I'll do some tasting notes and comments.I met Florian last August, when A-B flew some writers out to their hop farm in Idaho for harvest time. He’s young, German, and quite articulate about brewing, so I was looking forward to the interview.
I had a few "techie stuff" questions I wanted to ask him. Here’s how that went (please note that Florian’s answers as set out below may not be exactly verbatim; I was typing as he spoke and doing the best I could to maintain his phrasing and content).
How different was it to mash with wheat?
Before we release beers, we always brew test batches. We use about 30-35% wheat malt in the beer. We tried raw wheat, but the malt was preferred. It’s made from white winter wheat. The mashing was not really a problem, it didn’t get sticky, not even in the lautering. It took a little longer, but not a problem.
What kind of yeast did you use?
That’s proprietary, unfortunately. We have our own yeast bank. We have hundreds of different yeasts: lager, ales, wheat beers, and so on. We send the Budweiser lager strain out to the other breweries weekly from St. Louis.
What kind of spices did you use? And I understand you used lime and lemon zest as well as the traditional orange peel; why those?
We used coriander for spice. The orange is traditional, the lime and the lemon was a tweak to give it a lemony aroma, a lime and lemon touch. We played around with that in the test brewery.
We probably do five to ten test batches, depending on what you’re doing. It may go more with a new ingredient. For a pilsner style beer, probably less, we’re more familiar with those.
We probably do five to ten test batches, depending on what you’re doing. It may go more with a new ingredient. For a pilsner style beer, probably less, we’re more familiar with those.
Who’s this aimed at?
I’m hoping everybody will like it! It’s very drinkable and refreshing, a lot of people have tried it and liked it. The craft beer drinkers, we hope. The taphandle is designed to catch attention, to get people to try the beer and get hooked by the taste.
What seasonal is next?
Beach Bum Blonde Ale. Our American-style blonde ale, it’s dry-hopped w/domestic Hallertauer, Cascades, and Alsatian Strisselspalt (A-B buys almost the entire crop of this very nice French hop). They’re also used in the kettle. It’s got some bitterness, but it’s a nice beer for an introduction to craft beer. It’s going to be available in bottles [unlike?] last year, 12 oz. and 22 oz. It’s a nice serving size for sharing. Beer goes great with food, and that bottle size is great to share with dinner. It reinforces that idea.
Thanks, Florian. So how was it? It sure pours like a witbier: orange-gold, heavily hazy with protein and yeast, and a fluffy white head. The aroma was much more citrus than coriander, though that spicy edge was there. The beer itself? Good, fresh, and refreshing, but balanced too much on the citrus side for my tastes. I'm looking for a drier witbier, more on the brisk wheat tang and coriander twist side, something like Allagash. And it could have a bit more complexity, although it is supposed to be a refresher: hard to keep in mind when you're "tasting" and not "quaffing."
The citrus thing is the same issue I have with Blue Moon Belgian White, and maybe that's why; given the booming sales of Blue Moon, it's entirely possible that A-B would aim more towards that end. After all, as Willie Sutton was supposed to have said about why he robbed banks: That's where the money is. On the other hand, maybe that's just how they wanted the beer to taste; after all, they did add the lemon and lime, which I kind of admire for the innovative thought involved, a very Belgian way to do things, actually.
Would I get one? Depends on the choices open to me. Hot day, this or Yuengling or Guinness? Yeah, I'd get this. Hot day, this or Allagash? Allagash. Hot day, this or Blue Moon? Might have to go with this for that lemony thing. But overall, not a bad outdoor beer at all, definitely worth a taste.
Tanks arrive for Allentown Brew Works
There's a brief report at the WFMZ TV website on the arrival of the brewhouse and unitanks at the site of the soon-to-open Allentown Brew Works at 812 Hamilton St. in Allentown here. The opening is now scheduled for May...I can't recall how many years that is past the first prediction! Hey, that's the brew biz.
Hot Dope from Weyerbacher
Got a call from Dan Weirback yesterday. Dan and I go way back, he's one of my best friends in the business, and I've always been a fan of most of his beers. We talk, but it's usually gossip about the rest of the biz! So yesterday we talked about Weyerbacher, and how things are going for them.
Mostly, they're pretty damned good! "Sales are up 51% in the first quarter over the same period last year," Dan said, "and the only new territory is Maine, which we just added two weeks ago."
Last year was great for the little guys in Easton. "Volume was up 19.5% last year, dollar sales were up 23%," Dan continued. "I would project 35% growth for this year, with what we’re seeing. Our draft sales are way up, and we’ve never pushed that. We did 4,002 barrels last year. I’m expecting to pass 5,000 this year. You know what we’ve been through: it feels great!"
Dan confirmed what a number of small brewers have been telling me about capital being easier to secure as the category gets a more stable reputation and as brewers show long-term stability (Weyerbacher's in their 12th year now). "This is the third year we’ve been able to get a Small Business Administration loan through the bank, and they’re going to roll it into a single conventional loan at a lower rate at the end of this year. That’s the way things are going."
What's the loan for? Big iron! "We've got two more 40 bbls. fermenters going on line, and a 48 bbl. bright tank was put in last week in. And we've ordered a 72 bbl. kettle, steam-jacketed with an internal calandria, from Bavarian Brewing Technologies. I should call it a 40 bbl. yield kettle, that would be better. We’re also getting an additional 48 bbl. bright tank."
Why all the tanks and capacity? Weyerbacher's getting on the front side of their growth curve. They've realized the costs of missed sales opportunities. For example, Dan says, "We’ve seen opportunities come and go. We know we could have sold triple the amount of Imperial Pumpkin Ale last year. We did triple the amount last year, and we still could have sold more. Those pumpkin beers are a solid niche, people like them. It puts you in a celebratory mood. It’s got substance, it’s got flavor."
Like Jason Ebel, Dan had to take a shot at me for the Session Beer Project. "The big beers have garnered us a lot of attention, and not just from the media. It’s gotten us attention with the drinkers. They’re still drinking session beers, but the big beers get the word of mouth going. It’s set a fire in the 20-somethings. They added to our core audience, and they spread the word with the big beers. It fits my needs well. It’s a good promotional force for your brewery and for the industry. It’s gotten a whole bunch more people thinking about beer."
Speaking of thinking about beer, Dan let out a few new projects. "You know about Blasphemy: the bourbon barrel-aged Quad. We’ve also got a farmhouse saison coming out in May, called Muse. It's spicy, but it's spicy from the yeast, there's no added spices. It's at 6.2% ABV, unfiltered, and we'll have it in all packages, 12 oz., 22s, and draft. We'll have the 12th Anniversary beer in July, not sure what it’s going to be yet. I'm pretty sure, but we're not certain yet. The Double Simcoe IPA went year-round as of last week. We had so many people ask, how can you not do it?"
I asked him if he was worried about getting enough hops for it; there have been some shortages predicted (I'm starting to feel like the farm reporter at WKRP...). "We’re covered on Simcoe," he said, "there’s plenty of those coming."
Then there was something really different for Weyerbacher: "We're playing with some brett beers," Dan said. "We've got a strong ale, about 11.5%, and a 7% raspberry beer. Tart, but not extremely so. We’ve got a barrel of each aging with a brett culture, and we’re going to fill several more barrels of each shortly. But it won’t be out till January of next year, probably, and then only about 50 cases. You just don’t know the results for 8 months sometimes, so it could take a while to ramp up. I’d like to see us do a thousand cases as a seasonal eventually. I think there’s a sizeable market for it. And again, it gains attention, and interests the fans."
Finally, Dan said they're "doing a partnership with the local Wegman’s. They sent five chefs down to taste beers. They’re doing a cheddar ale soup with the Hops Infusion at the Easton store. That’s another nice thing for us. They want to play up the Weyerbacher aspect, a nice little thing." Watch for more Weyerbacher-ingredient dishes at the food area there, too: Dan told me a bunch more, but I just couldn't type fast enough.
Thanks for the update, Dan.
Mostly, they're pretty damned good! "Sales are up 51% in the first quarter over the same period last year," Dan said, "and the only new territory is Maine, which we just added two weeks ago."
Last year was great for the little guys in Easton. "Volume was up 19.5% last year, dollar sales were up 23%," Dan continued. "I would project 35% growth for this year, with what we’re seeing. Our draft sales are way up, and we’ve never pushed that. We did 4,002 barrels last year. I’m expecting to pass 5,000 this year. You know what we’ve been through: it feels great!"
Dan confirmed what a number of small brewers have been telling me about capital being easier to secure as the category gets a more stable reputation and as brewers show long-term stability (Weyerbacher's in their 12th year now). "This is the third year we’ve been able to get a Small Business Administration loan through the bank, and they’re going to roll it into a single conventional loan at a lower rate at the end of this year. That’s the way things are going."
What's the loan for? Big iron! "We've got two more 40 bbls. fermenters going on line, and a 48 bbl. bright tank was put in last week in. And we've ordered a 72 bbl. kettle, steam-jacketed with an internal calandria, from Bavarian Brewing Technologies. I should call it a 40 bbl. yield kettle, that would be better. We’re also getting an additional 48 bbl. bright tank."
Why all the tanks and capacity? Weyerbacher's getting on the front side of their growth curve. They've realized the costs of missed sales opportunities. For example, Dan says, "We’ve seen opportunities come and go. We know we could have sold triple the amount of Imperial Pumpkin Ale last year. We did triple the amount last year, and we still could have sold more. Those pumpkin beers are a solid niche, people like them. It puts you in a celebratory mood. It’s got substance, it’s got flavor."
Like Jason Ebel, Dan had to take a shot at me for the Session Beer Project. "The big beers have garnered us a lot of attention, and not just from the media. It’s gotten us attention with the drinkers. They’re still drinking session beers, but the big beers get the word of mouth going. It’s set a fire in the 20-somethings. They added to our core audience, and they spread the word with the big beers. It fits my needs well. It’s a good promotional force for your brewery and for the industry. It’s gotten a whole bunch more people thinking about beer."
Speaking of thinking about beer, Dan let out a few new projects. "You know about Blasphemy: the bourbon barrel-aged Quad. We’ve also got a farmhouse saison coming out in May, called Muse. It's spicy, but it's spicy from the yeast, there's no added spices. It's at 6.2% ABV, unfiltered, and we'll have it in all packages, 12 oz., 22s, and draft. We'll have the 12th Anniversary beer in July, not sure what it’s going to be yet. I'm pretty sure, but we're not certain yet. The Double Simcoe IPA went year-round as of last week. We had so many people ask, how can you not do it?"
I asked him if he was worried about getting enough hops for it; there have been some shortages predicted (I'm starting to feel like the farm reporter at WKRP...). "We’re covered on Simcoe," he said, "there’s plenty of those coming."
Then there was something really different for Weyerbacher: "We're playing with some brett beers," Dan said. "We've got a strong ale, about 11.5%, and a 7% raspberry beer. Tart, but not extremely so. We’ve got a barrel of each aging with a brett culture, and we’re going to fill several more barrels of each shortly. But it won’t be out till January of next year, probably, and then only about 50 cases. You just don’t know the results for 8 months sometimes, so it could take a while to ramp up. I’d like to see us do a thousand cases as a seasonal eventually. I think there’s a sizeable market for it. And again, it gains attention, and interests the fans."
Finally, Dan said they're "doing a partnership with the local Wegman’s. They sent five chefs down to taste beers. They’re doing a cheddar ale soup with the Hops Infusion at the Easton store. That’s another nice thing for us. They want to play up the Weyerbacher aspect, a nice little thing." Watch for more Weyerbacher-ingredient dishes at the food area there, too: Dan told me a bunch more, but I just couldn't type fast enough.
Thanks for the update, Dan.
SBP and STAG get another plug
Don Cazentre, who covers the beer beat for the Syracuse Post-Standard (covers it well, too), picked up the Session Beer beat for his latest piece, and gives the blog a real nice plug:
Session beers: Not bland, not too bold
A few tastes:
"...whatever happened to high-quality, full-flavor beers that aren't extreme and taste like, well, beer?They're still around, but they get lost in all the buzz about bigger, bolder brews. Yet there are beers out there that you can enjoy, and even have a few of, without feeling like an anvil fell on your head."
and...
"For Middle Ages brewer Marc Rubenstein, all this makes sense. Session beers are what he likes to drink. "I enjoy beers that I can have a couple of while watching a game," he said. "Beers that are not in your face but still have lots of flavor." "
SBP rolls on...
Session beers: Not bland, not too bold
A few tastes:
"...whatever happened to high-quality, full-flavor beers that aren't extreme and taste like, well, beer?They're still around, but they get lost in all the buzz about bigger, bolder brews. Yet there are beers out there that you can enjoy, and even have a few of, without feeling like an anvil fell on your head."
and...
"For Middle Ages brewer Marc Rubenstein, all this makes sense. Session beers are what he likes to drink. "I enjoy beers that I can have a couple of while watching a game," he said. "Beers that are not in your face but still have lots of flavor." "
SBP rolls on...
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Bock Chicken recipe
Loren Verkovod posted a comment to the Spring Session entry that was just a bit long for comments, so for esthetic reasons, I pulled it out and made a separate entry of it. The recipe sounded too good to waste.
He also notes: " I heard the Anchor Bock is just a spice stripped Our Special Ale? Tastes like it to me. Regardless, it's a nice offering. Though not quite a true to form Bock tasting version."
Dunno, Loren, could be. I'll try to remember to ask an Anchorite at WhiskyFest Chicago. Meantime, here's the recipe he sent along.
CARIBBEAN CHICKEN WITH BOCK (LAGER) BEER
Serves 4
5 to 6 chicken leg quarters
2 tablespoons Jamaican jerk seasoning
1 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, diced
2 jalapeno chiles, seeded and diced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1-1/2 cups parboiled rice
1 bottle (12 ounces) bock beer
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 can (16 ounces) red or pink beans, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup roughly chopped cilantro
Coat chicken all over with jerk seasoning. In a large pan with lid, warm oil over medium heat.
Cook chicken in two batches, turning frequently until well-browned, about 8 to 10 minutes per batch. Remove chicken to plate. Pour out all but two tablespoons of pan drippings.
Add onion, chiles, ginger, garlic and salt to remaining drippings in pan. Cook, stirring, for 3 to 4 minutes until onion is lightly browned. Stir in rice and cook for 1 more minute. Add beer, coconut milk, beans and half of cilantro. Return chicken to pot along with any accumulated juices.
Bring chicken mixture to boil, cover pot and reduce heat to low. Simmer for 30 to 35 minutes or until liquid is absorbed, rice is tender and chicken is cooked through. Stir in remaining cilantro.
He also notes: " I heard the Anchor Bock is just a spice stripped Our Special Ale? Tastes like it to me. Regardless, it's a nice offering. Though not quite a true to form Bock tasting version."
Dunno, Loren, could be. I'll try to remember to ask an Anchorite at WhiskyFest Chicago. Meantime, here's the recipe he sent along.
CARIBBEAN CHICKEN WITH BOCK (LAGER) BEER
Serves 4
5 to 6 chicken leg quarters
2 tablespoons Jamaican jerk seasoning
1 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, diced
2 jalapeno chiles, seeded and diced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1-1/2 cups parboiled rice
1 bottle (12 ounces) bock beer
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 can (16 ounces) red or pink beans, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup roughly chopped cilantro
Coat chicken all over with jerk seasoning. In a large pan with lid, warm oil over medium heat.
Cook chicken in two batches, turning frequently until well-browned, about 8 to 10 minutes per batch. Remove chicken to plate. Pour out all but two tablespoons of pan drippings.
Add onion, chiles, ginger, garlic and salt to remaining drippings in pan. Cook, stirring, for 3 to 4 minutes until onion is lightly browned. Stir in rice and cook for 1 more minute. Add beer, coconut milk, beans and half of cilantro. Return chicken to pot along with any accumulated juices.
Bring chicken mixture to boil, cover pot and reduce heat to low. Simmer for 30 to 35 minutes or until liquid is absorbed, rice is tender and chicken is cooked through. Stir in remaining cilantro.
Salute to Spring Seasonals a Success
As mentioned -- okay, as plugged here earlier, I hosted a tasting of Spring session beers at Ortino's Northside this past Sunday. Things went well, and a large part of that is due to both John Ortino and his new events brain, Dan "The Big One" Bengel. Here's how it went.
I left early, just in case any hitches came up in this first-of-a-series event. I strolled up the Northeast Extension in the Passat, slipping off at the Lansdale exit and cross-countrying up Rt. 63 and across by the Spring Mountain ski area into Zieglerville, getting a nifty 43 mpg in the process. It was a gorgeous Spring day, about 63 degrees and sunny, hardly a cloud in the sky. I met Dan in the parking lot, we had a quick strategy session out by Ortino's smoker ("We serve 'em beer, and I talk about it, right?" "Yup."), and then went in to look at the menu and work out the pairings.
See, right there was the first improvement for next time. We're going to get better planned out. No fault on this one, though: we threw this event together very quickly, and wound up changing beers at the last minute anyway. We've got more time to plan the next one, and Dan's already on it. Wait till you hear (it's further down, if you want to skip ahead).
After planning, we fiddled with the taps -- Ortino's had a brand-new tap system, which I thought was boldly gutsy to do just before a beer event! Folks started arriving -- including most of the usual suspects, Dan's friends and family, some BeerAdvocates, brewers (Tim Ohst and Brian O'Reilly from Sly Fox, Bill Moore from Lancaster), and Uncle Jack and Mid-Atlantic Brewing News's Dale Van Wieren (who's retiring from his MABN column in the fall to work on a new edition of his thoroughly detailed listing of historical American breweries).
Just before we started, I stepped out in the parking lot for some fresh air, and that's when O'Reilly pulled up, black car, dark black shades, and says, "Where's your car? I got something for you." Made me nervous, I gotta tell you, but here's what he had, a sixer of the brand-new little beauties. Oh, and a big bottle of Instigator, too. Nice guy!
The dinner! We started with a toast to Spring, celebrated with Redhook Copperhook. Nice beer, a bit strong for 'session' at 5.7%, even by my definition, but Dan and John and I had agreed that the "seasonal" part was as important as the "session" part, so we slipped it in. Copperhook was a good, smooth opener, with enough hops to be interesting. Made for a nice intro to my idea that session beers should not interrupt conversation!
First course was house-made potato chips (nice, and done just right) with a lemon-leek dip that was very popular. We served it with Anchor Bock, a right tasty version of the type, and sessiony at 5.5%. Consensus was that they're using that workhorse steam beer yeast, and that it's not a bad idea.
Why Anchor Bock with the chips and dip? Well...to be honest, I had planned to put the Sunshine Pils here, but we screwed up (my fault as much as anyone's). It worked out okay, though, because the rich bockness floated the salt and lemon real nice, and the dip wasn't so overly rich as to make it a heavy pairing.
Next up was one of the very first kegs of this year's Tröegs Sunshine Pils, served with a cheese plate of a soft brie-like cow's milk cheese, a small wedge of Parmesano Reggiano (ahh...), and a very nice local cheese, the Telford Tommy from Hendricks Farms and Dairy, just down the road from Ortino's. I've got to get out there and get some more of that. The Pils was, well, like Sunshine Pils always is: excellent, crisp, hoppy, balanced, and exceptionally drinkable. And, didja know? 4.5% ABV. How 'bout dat? That's liter beer, boys and girls.
The reason we mixed up the Pils and the Bock was here: Pils would have worked fine with either the chips or the cheese, and this pairing did fine, for me. You've got that crisp carbonation and bitter kiss of hops scrubbing and sharpening the tongue for the rich, fatty cheese. Pils works well with a number of cheeses for this reason; not all cheeses, but it worked with these.
We followed that with a particularly delicious course of food: mixed grilled vegetables in a balsamic dressing with some delicious beer-simmered-and-grilled bratwurst from Illg's. We got into a nice sausage discussion at this point; folks wanted to know just what bratwurst is. The beer was a luscious keg of Penn Märzen, tasting very round and smooth and malty. I would be remiss, though, if I didn't mention how damnably good the vegetables were, really one of the high points of the meal: snow peas, green and yellow squash, and eggplant. Very fresh, done just right: all praise to the Ortino's kitchen on that one. The Illg's brats were, of course, perfect; you can't go wrong with Ernst's wursts.
Why Märzen? The sausage pairing's obvious, no? You've got a fairly mild grilled sausage that is caressed by that malty caramel, and the sweetness of the malt slides against the tangy mustard. The grilled vegetables have that same sweetness, enhanced by a little cut from the balsamic, and the malty Märzen picked it all up. This one was the first match-up I made, and probably the easiest.
Then it was time for the main course, a fresh-smoked (as in "right out back") ham sandwich, served open-faced on some crunchy sourdough bread, topped with two slices of smoked gouda, and accompanied by a nice helping of scalloped potatoes and coleslaw. That went with a Victory Donnybrook Stout, which at 3.7% was about as sessiony as you could want. Good eats, but maybe a bit on the heavy side, to be honest, by the time the scalloped spuds were in there.
The pairing idea was that the smoky/burnt character of the dry stout would complement the smoked ham. It should have worked, but...unfortunately, the tapping of the Victory was off. It was too cold and under-carbo/nitrogenated (still adjusting to new tapping arrangements, I'm afraid). Unfortunately, most people didn't get a very good impression of this new Victory beer, which is a damned shame. I'd urge anyone to give it another shot sometime soon.
Dessert was a spicy ginger cake done by John's wife Linda -- and a very nice job, too, with a toothsomely dense cake topped by a sweet glaze that was a reduction of Lagunitas Brown Shugga Ale -- and a dollop of chocolate (beer) sorbet done up by Big Dan himself -- also quite tasty, and who knew that a skinny rail like him was an ice cream fanatic?
The beer? Our big boy of the day, Stegmaier Brewhouse Bock. With the bock at 6.5% and deliciously malty-sweet, well, pairing it with this dessert was pretty much a cruise-control pick that even a sommelier could have figured out. The beer was especially good with the cake's spicy notes.
The dinner went over well, with an enthusiastic crowd by evening's end. Lessons learned? More planning means we can do a printed menu, something folks were asking for. We were also having a more philosophical discussion about the best format for a session beer event, with O'Reilly and Uncle Jack pushing for less of a dinner and more of a...well, a session.
I think they've got a good idea, and I can see several different ways to pull that off. So we're going to try a few of them at the next Session event, something Dan's already calling The Session of Love, a three-day session of session beers, to be held May 24-26, starting with a dinner Thursday night (maybe more in a buffet style), a mini-fest Friday night (with maybe some participatory entertainment), and a straight-up fest atmosphere Saturday, hopefully outside on the patio. The kicker? An ABV limit of 5.5% on all beers served...and Dan says if we can get enough participants, we'll take it down to 5.0%. How's that sound? I want to hear from brewers: if you're interested in participating with one or more appropriate beers, give me a yell!
I left early, just in case any hitches came up in this first-of-a-series event. I strolled up the Northeast Extension in the Passat, slipping off at the Lansdale exit and cross-countrying up Rt. 63 and across by the Spring Mountain ski area into Zieglerville, getting a nifty 43 mpg in the process. It was a gorgeous Spring day, about 63 degrees and sunny, hardly a cloud in the sky. I met Dan in the parking lot, we had a quick strategy session out by Ortino's smoker ("We serve 'em beer, and I talk about it, right?" "Yup."), and then went in to look at the menu and work out the pairings.
See, right there was the first improvement for next time. We're going to get better planned out. No fault on this one, though: we threw this event together very quickly, and wound up changing beers at the last minute anyway. We've got more time to plan the next one, and Dan's already on it. Wait till you hear (it's further down, if you want to skip ahead).
After planning, we fiddled with the taps -- Ortino's had a brand-new tap system, which I thought was boldly gutsy to do just before a beer event! Folks started arriving -- including most of the usual suspects, Dan's friends and family, some BeerAdvocates, brewers (Tim Ohst and Brian O'Reilly from Sly Fox, Bill Moore from Lancaster), and Uncle Jack and Mid-Atlantic Brewing News's Dale Van Wieren (who's retiring from his MABN column in the fall to work on a new edition of his thoroughly detailed listing of historical American breweries).
Just before we started, I stepped out in the parking lot for some fresh air, and that's when O'Reilly pulled up, black car, dark black shades, and says, "Where's your car? I got something for you." Made me nervous, I gotta tell you, but here's what he had, a sixer of the brand-new little beauties. Oh, and a big bottle of Instigator, too. Nice guy!
The dinner! We started with a toast to Spring, celebrated with Redhook Copperhook. Nice beer, a bit strong for 'session' at 5.7%, even by my definition, but Dan and John and I had agreed that the "seasonal" part was as important as the "session" part, so we slipped it in. Copperhook was a good, smooth opener, with enough hops to be interesting. Made for a nice intro to my idea that session beers should not interrupt conversation!
First course was house-made potato chips (nice, and done just right) with a lemon-leek dip that was very popular. We served it with Anchor Bock, a right tasty version of the type, and sessiony at 5.5%. Consensus was that they're using that workhorse steam beer yeast, and that it's not a bad idea.
Why Anchor Bock with the chips and dip? Well...to be honest, I had planned to put the Sunshine Pils here, but we screwed up (my fault as much as anyone's). It worked out okay, though, because the rich bockness floated the salt and lemon real nice, and the dip wasn't so overly rich as to make it a heavy pairing.
Next up was one of the very first kegs of this year's Tröegs Sunshine Pils, served with a cheese plate of a soft brie-like cow's milk cheese, a small wedge of Parmesano Reggiano (ahh...), and a very nice local cheese, the Telford Tommy from Hendricks Farms and Dairy, just down the road from Ortino's. I've got to get out there and get some more of that. The Pils was, well, like Sunshine Pils always is: excellent, crisp, hoppy, balanced, and exceptionally drinkable. And, didja know? 4.5% ABV. How 'bout dat? That's liter beer, boys and girls.
The reason we mixed up the Pils and the Bock was here: Pils would have worked fine with either the chips or the cheese, and this pairing did fine, for me. You've got that crisp carbonation and bitter kiss of hops scrubbing and sharpening the tongue for the rich, fatty cheese. Pils works well with a number of cheeses for this reason; not all cheeses, but it worked with these.
We followed that with a particularly delicious course of food: mixed grilled vegetables in a balsamic dressing with some delicious beer-simmered-and-grilled bratwurst from Illg's. We got into a nice sausage discussion at this point; folks wanted to know just what bratwurst is. The beer was a luscious keg of Penn Märzen, tasting very round and smooth and malty. I would be remiss, though, if I didn't mention how damnably good the vegetables were, really one of the high points of the meal: snow peas, green and yellow squash, and eggplant. Very fresh, done just right: all praise to the Ortino's kitchen on that one. The Illg's brats were, of course, perfect; you can't go wrong with Ernst's wursts.
Why Märzen? The sausage pairing's obvious, no? You've got a fairly mild grilled sausage that is caressed by that malty caramel, and the sweetness of the malt slides against the tangy mustard. The grilled vegetables have that same sweetness, enhanced by a little cut from the balsamic, and the malty Märzen picked it all up. This one was the first match-up I made, and probably the easiest.
Then it was time for the main course, a fresh-smoked (as in "right out back") ham sandwich, served open-faced on some crunchy sourdough bread, topped with two slices of smoked gouda, and accompanied by a nice helping of scalloped potatoes and coleslaw. That went with a Victory Donnybrook Stout, which at 3.7% was about as sessiony as you could want. Good eats, but maybe a bit on the heavy side, to be honest, by the time the scalloped spuds were in there.
The pairing idea was that the smoky/burnt character of the dry stout would complement the smoked ham. It should have worked, but...unfortunately, the tapping of the Victory was off. It was too cold and under-carbo/nitrogenated (still adjusting to new tapping arrangements, I'm afraid). Unfortunately, most people didn't get a very good impression of this new Victory beer, which is a damned shame. I'd urge anyone to give it another shot sometime soon.
Dessert was a spicy ginger cake done by John's wife Linda -- and a very nice job, too, with a toothsomely dense cake topped by a sweet glaze that was a reduction of Lagunitas Brown Shugga Ale -- and a dollop of chocolate (beer) sorbet done up by Big Dan himself -- also quite tasty, and who knew that a skinny rail like him was an ice cream fanatic?
The beer? Our big boy of the day, Stegmaier Brewhouse Bock. With the bock at 6.5% and deliciously malty-sweet, well, pairing it with this dessert was pretty much a cruise-control pick that even a sommelier could have figured out. The beer was especially good with the cake's spicy notes.
The dinner went over well, with an enthusiastic crowd by evening's end. Lessons learned? More planning means we can do a printed menu, something folks were asking for. We were also having a more philosophical discussion about the best format for a session beer event, with O'Reilly and Uncle Jack pushing for less of a dinner and more of a...well, a session.
I think they've got a good idea, and I can see several different ways to pull that off. So we're going to try a few of them at the next Session event, something Dan's already calling The Session of Love, a three-day session of session beers, to be held May 24-26, starting with a dinner Thursday night (maybe more in a buffet style), a mini-fest Friday night (with maybe some participatory entertainment), and a straight-up fest atmosphere Saturday, hopefully outside on the patio. The kicker? An ABV limit of 5.5% on all beers served...and Dan says if we can get enough participants, we'll take it down to 5.0%. How's that sound? I want to hear from brewers: if you're interested in participating with one or more appropriate beers, give me a yell!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Farnum Hill Semi-Dry Cider
I got an e-mail from a fella back in February, saying he'd seen my writing, and wondered if I'd be interested in trying some very special ciders from New Hampshire: Farnum Hill Ciders. I was, and said that if he sent them, I'd have a taste.
I'm kinda picky about cider. I'm not a big fan of the mass-market stuff; Woodchuck Dark & Dry's okay, and Magner's a decent thirst-quencher, but even they just seem like apple sodas with booze-o in 'em. What I do like is the Norman cidres, like these from Etienne Dupont and Christian Drouin, and the Aspall cyders of the UK, also made in the Norman style. They're dry, almost austere, and don't shy away from the tannins in more bitter varieties of apples. I also like Bellwether Cider, from Trumansburg, NY, but it's really hard to find.
Farnum Hill, as you can see if you take a look at the site, is serious about their cider and apples. So I opened up a bottle of their Semi-Dry and tried it. The interesting cover letter from Stephen Wood and Louisa Spencer includes this: "Kindly note that the term "extra dry" on a Farnum, Hill label means literally what it says: genuinely, even radically dry. Similarly, our use of the term "semi-dry" means: not very sweet at all."
Well, they were right. I was expecting a cider that was still fairly sweet, having been rooked by various small Pennsylvania and New Jersey vineyards that make their living off fruity, sweet wines, and throw in a "semi-dry" in an attempt to make you think "semi-dry" doesn't actually mean "mostly sweet" as opposed to their other wines, which would be best described as "mawkishly sweet." I was wrong, should've believed the letter.
The Farnum Hill Semi-Dry Cider was not up to the best Norman ciders I've had, but it was definitely in the room. It was indeed dry, the apple flavor was not buried in sweet juice (many cider makers use table apples like Red Delicious -- I'm not sure if this is because they're cheaper, or because reading "Red Delicious" on the label increases some consumers' comfort level at making such a radical choice as buying cider...yes, I'm being sarcastic), and the tannin was plainly evident, and welcome in the nicely astringent finish. It reminded me somewhat of a steely-firm gueuze, kind of the tang without the fuzzy edges of funk.
I started out drinking the Semi-Dry with some Prima Donna, which went nicely if not famously. But I wound up finishing the bottle simply standing out on the deck in the cool evening air, satisfied with the stuff head-to-head, just me and the cider. I'd still like more from this cider, more depth, and maybe I'll find that in the Extra Dry.
I'm looking forward to the others; I've got an Extra Dry and and Extra-Dry Still left (I had another, a Farmhouse, but...someone drank it. 'Nuff said). I'll let you know how that goes.
I'm kinda picky about cider. I'm not a big fan of the mass-market stuff; Woodchuck Dark & Dry's okay, and Magner's a decent thirst-quencher, but even they just seem like apple sodas with booze-o in 'em. What I do like is the Norman cidres, like these from Etienne Dupont and Christian Drouin, and the Aspall cyders of the UK, also made in the Norman style. They're dry, almost austere, and don't shy away from the tannins in more bitter varieties of apples. I also like Bellwether Cider, from Trumansburg, NY, but it's really hard to find.
Farnum Hill, as you can see if you take a look at the site, is serious about their cider and apples. So I opened up a bottle of their Semi-Dry and tried it. The interesting cover letter from Stephen Wood and Louisa Spencer includes this: "Kindly note that the term "extra dry" on a Farnum, Hill label means literally what it says: genuinely, even radically dry. Similarly, our use of the term "semi-dry" means: not very sweet at all."
Well, they were right. I was expecting a cider that was still fairly sweet, having been rooked by various small Pennsylvania and New Jersey vineyards that make their living off fruity, sweet wines, and throw in a "semi-dry" in an attempt to make you think "semi-dry" doesn't actually mean "mostly sweet" as opposed to their other wines, which would be best described as "mawkishly sweet." I was wrong, should've believed the letter.
The Farnum Hill Semi-Dry Cider was not up to the best Norman ciders I've had, but it was definitely in the room. It was indeed dry, the apple flavor was not buried in sweet juice (many cider makers use table apples like Red Delicious -- I'm not sure if this is because they're cheaper, or because reading "Red Delicious" on the label increases some consumers' comfort level at making such a radical choice as buying cider...yes, I'm being sarcastic), and the tannin was plainly evident, and welcome in the nicely astringent finish. It reminded me somewhat of a steely-firm gueuze, kind of the tang without the fuzzy edges of funk.
I started out drinking the Semi-Dry with some Prima Donna, which went nicely if not famously. But I wound up finishing the bottle simply standing out on the deck in the cool evening air, satisfied with the stuff head-to-head, just me and the cider. I'd still like more from this cider, more depth, and maybe I'll find that in the Extra Dry.
I'm looking forward to the others; I've got an Extra Dry and and Extra-Dry Still left (I had another, a Farmhouse, but...someone drank it. 'Nuff said). I'll let you know how that goes.
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