Point Counterpoint: Count Beer Festival Samples?

I've argued this in my head dozens of times. Is a 2 oz sample of a beer at a beer festival enough to consider that beer tried? Had? Consumed? Rate-able? What if you have two 2 oz samples? One right after the other. Or hours apart. Where is the cutoff? What if you're hammered? What if your writing's illegible? Why does it matter, it's only a personal quest anyway. Or is it? Are there unwritten rules or guidelines? Will I be outcast for improperly counting a beer as consumed and reviewed?

Like I said, I've had this conversation many times. Shall we take the questions one at a time?

In general, I say no. A 2 oz sample of a beer is not sufficient enough to officially (or unofficially) count. As far as the double sample goes, I'm less sure. Which is why I abide by the rule in my official journal that samples at a festival go in a separate category that goes uncounted in the year-end or lifetime tally.

Case in point: the 2009 City Pages Beer Fest, otherwise known as the biggest sanctioned college binge drinking session of the year. I shudder at calling this a real beer festival, but let's not be snobby now. It's somewhat of a gateway festival.

So why do beer samples at an event like this not make the cut? Shall we bullet point this?

1. Size matters. It's hard to get much depth out of a 2 oz sample, which is the only reason you need to not count them. You can usually tell if you'd like the beer or not, but it barely gets you two swigs worth. And forget about sticking your nose to the bottom of the plastic cup to garner worthwhile smell notes.
2. Samples are inconsistent. Some come from warm bottles. Bad pours. Cashed kegs. At an event like this, it's about speed for the pourer, not consistency.
3. Escalating intoxication. Three hours in, maybe that Michelob Honey Wheat (which I sampled) doesn't taste as bad as it did the first time. And maybe your buds are too shot to appreciate the step up from a Cold Spring Red River Trail Ale to a Sierra Nevada Southern Hemisphere Harvest.
4. Volunteers know nothing. Pour. Repeat. It's your job to figure out exactly what you're getting. I've had several occasions where the beer I'm told I'm drinking doesn't exist. See: Davis Hempinstein Ale.
5. Note-taking logistics. Drunken scribble on a damp napkin oftentimes doesn't look quite as clear the next day.

There probably are more reasons, but I don't think I need any. Maybe you've got additional ones, and I'd like to hear them. And if you'd argue that you can count these samples, I'd like to hear that argument as well.

Some fests, however, are plenty sufficient. Take Al's Blue Nile events, for instance. Even with a three-beer sampler, you get enough volume of each to have a clear idea of the beer's characteristics. Now, attending this event after you've spent all afternoon at the City Pages binger might not give you the clearest beer-rating head, but it does guarantee some interesting descriptions.

Of the 17 new beers I tried at the City Pages fest, I gave only five an above-average rating:

Sierra Nevada Southern Hemisphere Harvest (4 stars)
Big Sky IPA (4)
Widmer Brothers Drifter Pale Ale (3.5)
Lagunitas A Little Sumpin' Sumpin' Ale (3.5)
Rock Bottom Minneapolis Hopfen Konig IPL (3.5)

The Rock Bottom garner that rating simply because of the unique concept: they used an IPA recipe but substituted lager yeast. This is the kind of thing I'd like to see more of now that the jack-up-the-hops fetish has peaked. Let me see some innovation.

I've since had full pours of both the Sierra Nevada (on tap at Buster's on 28th) and Lagunitas (bottle from Heritage Liquor in Maplewood) and stuck by my initial ratings on both. Which brings the question back to the forefront: if my hazy, buzzed analysis is confirmed upon a full tasting, should more respect be given to the validity of festival samples?

Well, in certain cases, maybe. I speak mainly of the worst of the worst. The beers I'll never willingly try again, but deserve to be mentioned. Mentioned, that is, for their crimes. There were also five of those that Saturday afternoon (no links. If you want to research them, do so on your own):

Bohemia Clasica
Big Hold Headstrong Pale Ale
Cold Spring Red River Trail Ale
Michelob Honey Wheat
Moosehead Beer

There were perhaps a dozen more at least that I didn't have the chance to sample, including the certain abomination, Moosehead Light. Perhaps my head may have exploded upon that tasting. Also worth mentioning is Cold Spring's Honey Almond Weiss, which my counterpart could not finish. Keep in mind, these are 2 oz samples.

So can I count these? Please? I wouldn't mind the additional tallies, and it's likely I'll never have the chance to try them again. Still, the fairness-in-beer-tasting side of my brain says no. If you can't count the good, uncounted too go the bad.

Guess I know which crappy 12 packs I'll be buying for the next softball games.

The Best of Late

Been watching too much basketball lately to dedicate time to post. This doesn't mean I've slacked on the consumption. My stash is dwindling, though, and I want to make it last as long as I can, so I've been leaning toward the wines and the liquors more as of late. With that said, I've had some great beers recently, including a well-respected beer that didn't disappoint. Here's a
mini rundown of the best stuff I've had recently.


New Glarus Wisconsin Belgian Red

Brewery: New Glarus, New Glarus, Wisconsin

Style: Fruit Beer

ABV: 5.1%

Rating: 5 Stars


One of the best beers in the Midwest, and certainly the best fruit beer available. I imagined it would be akin to a Belgian kriek-like cherry bomb. Quite wrong I was. New Glarus uses one pound of Wisconsin cherries for each bottle (not your 12 oz. sixer bottle, mind you) and it's evident in the pungent aroma.

I was slightly worried when I realized this wasn't going to be as tart as the sour beers, because I typically loathe cherry-flavored things. In fact, the Sam Adams Cherry Wheat was one of my least favorite beers I tried in 2008. But this cherry was different. It had immense sweetness, but not like a Popsicle or sucker. It was sweet like the gooey inside-the-pie cherries, a real richness that couldn't be faked by synthetic flavoring. There was enough tartness to keep the sweetness at bay, though, and the late sparkle scraped my mouth so that I was ready for another sip.

Kristie and I enjoyed this one together, and it's exciting to me that I now have a better grip on the types of beers she might enjoy. I wish they didn't cost $10 a bottle, but it's exponentially better to enjoy a beer with company.

This beer (and the myriad of other New Glarus crafts) are well worth the 45-minute drive to Wisconsin, and I plan on making semi-regular trips from here on out.


New Glarus Crack'd Wheat

Brewery: New Glarus, New Glarus, Wisconsin

Style: American Pale Wheat Ale

ABV: 5.95%

Rating: 4 Stars


Prior to my whimsical February jaunt to Hudson, I'd had only one New Glarus beer--the infamous Spotted Cow. Thought it was below average and not worthy of the hype I'd heard from my Madison brethren. I had no idea they had as expansive a line of reign-free beers as they do. This one sounded interesting, and both employees said they'd had it and were pleasantly surprised.

It's an interesting idea. It is, basically, a wheat beer. But it's also dry-hopped with amarillo hops. To dry-hop a beer means to introduce hops after the fermentation has begun. It's a way to give the beer an extra hop kick and bring out the characteristics of the specific hops used. It's a pretty common tactic, but this is the first I'd heard about a wheat beer being dry-hopped. Though gimmicky, the idea sounded quite interesting to me, especially because wheat beers generally all get lumped into the same clovey/spicy/orange-peely heap for me.

It tastes exactly how you would imagine. The smell is all spicy wheat, and wheat is obviously the base of the beer. But the amarillo hops kick in toward the middle of each gulp and leave the beer's lasting impression. The beer is bottle-conditioned, another common brewing practice meaning the beer finishes the fermentation process in the bottle. Always a plus, and it usually guarantees a large frothy head, which I happen to enjoy.

Potentially the perfect summer beer, though later tonight I plan to enjoy their Berliner Weiss, which I've heard is phenomenal. Light as a wheat with the bold hops of a pale ale. I foresee many more of these come July.

Stone IPA

Brewery: Stone, Escondido, California

Style: India Pale Ale

ABV: 6.9%

Rating: 4.5 Stars




It's all basically been said about IPAs. We love the citrus, love the dryness, love the hops, love the mouthfeel. This is no different, and it's an excellent representation of the style. I know I've had it in the past, before my tastes were honed, so I wasn't surprised to like it again. Had to go to Wisconsin to get it, which makes no sense to me.

Tuesday Night Hop Battle

Drank not a drop Sunday or Monday. In this economy, as is the catch phrase, a two-day hiatus deserves a reward. Since I'm a hop guy, I decided to try a couple of the hoppier options in my collection.

First, the Lagunitas Hop Stoopid. Lagunitas, as of a year ago, was fairly limited in Minnesota. Or maybe I just wasn't noticing them. Recently, however, their brews have been popping up everywhere. I liked the IPA, was lukewarm on the Brown Shugga, and could not handle the Maximus IPA.

The Hop Stoopid was the best of the bunch so far. The aroma represented everything I love about juicy hopped-up beers. The pungent citrus, in this case grapefruit and a strong passion fruit presence, gets me revved up to swig. I really took a deep sniff at this one, because I knew I grabbed something specific (the passion fruit), but it took me a while to realize exactly which of the 'fruit cocktail' canned fruits it was. For once, I knew I had a smell nailed, and it comes from 2.5 years at a preschool. Good-sized head on this one, with the lacing disappearing more than some. Looks like orange jello, which again, I can attribute to preschool experience.

The taste was exceptional. Big and sturdy on the front end, with the citrus holding sway. The key, though, was the back, when everything felt like it was being sucked out of your mouth and down the hatch via the bitterness. My mouth was full one second and dry, sticky and empty the next. I love that in a beer. Give me some boom right away, take it away and leave me wanting more at the end of every sip. This beer is sharp like a nasty cheddar cheese.

As the glass emptied, I felt a bit more metal in every taste, but I think that had more to do with the compounding bitterness than the deterioration of the beer. Overall, this was one of the more satisfying beers I've had this year. I'd put it at the top of the hops, at least.

Next, Founders Centennial IPA. This much-heralded brewery does not sell its beers in Minnesota, and I am ashamed that it took me this long to cross the border into Wisconsin to buy some. Oh, the places you'll go! (Dr. Seuss' birthday yesterday).

Nearly all Founders brews come highly recommended, and Centennial is no different. To be fair to the Hop Stoopid, I should have opened the Founders Double Trouble, but I wasn't sure I could handle another double IPA. Unfortunately, the Centennial IPA couldn't match Hop Stoopid's power.

Lately I've been tasting a lot of what I can describe no better than dust. It tasted dusty. Maybe that means the flavors weren't as clear or crisp as I'd like. Maybe that means the mouthfeel was a little fuller and stretched farther into the buds than most. Or maybe it means that I got a peculiar amount of mothballs in the flavor. I swear I tasted mothballs.

Don't misconstrue those words. Mothballs, yes, but the flavor was still good.

Still. I'm finishing the glass as I write, and the dust factor overpowers everything else. I wish I could express it better. I guess I'll have to head east again, but a couple more bottles, and try them next to a more favorable competitor. In fairness, it probably would have stacked up well next to the Lagunitas Maximus, and maybe even the Lagunitas IPA. It just couldn't hang tonight.