Surly Wet
Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, Minnesota
Style: India Pale Ale
ABV: 7%
Rating: 5 stars
Wet hop/fresh hop beers were all over the place this year, especially this fall, and though I may be a bit biased, Surly's was the best. For reference, here are the others I had and how I rated them:
Minneapolis Town Hall Fresh Hop 2009: 3.5 stars. Needed more balance, though I realize that's a difficult task for a fresh hopped beer. Tasted sweaty.
Two Brothers Heavy Handed: 4 stars for both Cascade and Willamette versions. Cascade had delicious burps. Willamette was a bit creamier.
Founders Dry Hopped Pale Ale: 4 stars. Lighter hops, metallic backbone.
Avery Dry Hopped IPA: 3.5 stars. Incredibly bitter. Smelled like clover.
Boulder Hazed and Infused: 3.5 stars. A good beer. As you can see, most of these are solid. But not that memorable.
Left Hand Warrior IPA: 4.5 stars. Easily my favorite beer from this brewery. Round flavor, lasting bitterness.
Great Divide Fresh Hop: 4.5 stars. "Better than Surly Wet? Close, but not quite. Delicious Delicious."
Deschutes Hop Trip: 3.5 stars. Sweetest of the bunch.
Like I said, fresh hopped beers were everywhere. So what separates Surly's effort from the rest? I don't know. Maybe it was because I was on hand for the beer's release. Everything tastes better when it's being unveiled for the first time. And accompanied by spring rolls. Maybe it's because I love that Surly touch; the grapefruit, the huge roof-of-your-mouth pull you get after every sip.
Perhaps, though, it was because this wet hopper, as opposed to most on the list above, improved as I emptied it. These beers have a tendency to wear me out after a full 12 or 16 ounces. This one had just the right amount of balance to accompany the big hop pulse. Don't get me wrong, I love my hops as much as the next guy. But this one didn't have the 'eating a hop plant' bluntness that many do. At the time of my first tasting, I called it a triumph. And I stand by that statement.
Showing posts with label Minnesota. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Minnesota. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Best of 2009: #4
Town Hall Mango Mama
Brewery: Minneapolis Town Hall, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Style: India Pale Ale
ABV: 6%
Rating: 5 stars
It took me far too long to give the mangoed version of Town Hall's Masala Mama a look. There was some initial hesitance: Kristie is allergic to mangoes and mango flavor (yeah, we don't get dessert that much), and therefore we never have them around the house. Also, mangoes aren't near the top of my favorite fruits list (pineapple is). And why mess with an already outstanding IPA? Masala Mama, sadly available only on location, is one of the can't-miss IPAs of the upper midwest.
The positive reviews kept pouring in from friends, though the online responses are strikingly polar. It seems to be a love it or hate it beer, with the haters citing the overpowering mango. More fruit than hops. You can see why this would be a concern of mine due to my distaste for mangoes. In fact, earlier in the year I got my hands on a Virgin Islands Tropical Mango, and compared the taste to paint chips.
Well, the first sip of Mango Mama eased my worries. The detractors' point is not lost: the mango is very strong in both the smell and the initial lip smack. It's big, but not bigger than the Masala hops, which carry the beer out the back of your mouth. An extremely pleasant finish.
How good was this beer? Near the end of our June patio stay, a moth found its way into the last swig of my beer. As it struggled, I weighed my options: give up on the final sip due to contamination fears, or fish the moth out and finish the beer, consequences be damned.
I finished the beer.
Brewery: Minneapolis Town Hall, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Style: India Pale Ale
ABV: 6%
Rating: 5 stars
It took me far too long to give the mangoed version of Town Hall's Masala Mama a look. There was some initial hesitance: Kristie is allergic to mangoes and mango flavor (yeah, we don't get dessert that much), and therefore we never have them around the house. Also, mangoes aren't near the top of my favorite fruits list (pineapple is). And why mess with an already outstanding IPA? Masala Mama, sadly available only on location, is one of the can't-miss IPAs of the upper midwest.
The positive reviews kept pouring in from friends, though the online responses are strikingly polar. It seems to be a love it or hate it beer, with the haters citing the overpowering mango. More fruit than hops. You can see why this would be a concern of mine due to my distaste for mangoes. In fact, earlier in the year I got my hands on a Virgin Islands Tropical Mango, and compared the taste to paint chips.
Well, the first sip of Mango Mama eased my worries. The detractors' point is not lost: the mango is very strong in both the smell and the initial lip smack. It's big, but not bigger than the Masala hops, which carry the beer out the back of your mouth. An extremely pleasant finish.
How good was this beer? Near the end of our June patio stay, a moth found its way into the last swig of my beer. As it struggled, I weighed my options: give up on the final sip due to contamination fears, or fish the moth out and finish the beer, consequences be damned.
I finished the beer.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
21st Amendment
What better night than a freezing Wednesday to try two of the newer beers to the Minnesota scene, 21st Amendment's Brew Free! or Die IPA and Monk's Blood. I have to force myself to type as I drink them, because my journal notes aren't thorough enough for a full post, and though I've had plenty of beers recently, I can't put together a coherent paragraph weeks after the sampling. So, for these reviews, I'll write what I think as I taste, and we'll see how that looks. I'll start with the IPA.
21st Amendment Brew Free! or Die IPA
Brewery: 21st Amendment, San Francisco, California (Contract brewed at Cold Spring Brewery in Cold Spring, Minnesota)
21st Amendment Brew Free! or Die IPA
Brewery: 21st Amendment, San Francisco, California (Contract brewed at Cold Spring Brewery in Cold Spring, Minnesota)
Style: India Pale Ale
ABV: 7.2%
Rating: 3.5 stars
The look: Classic cloudy melon IPA color. Almost like a glass of orange jello that's been dirtied up. Not much light gets through. Fair amount of head that dissipates soon after pouring. Good lace left on the glass, and yes, you should pour it into a glass.
The smell: Again, classic IPA smell. Big aromatic hops; citrusy and grapefruit. There's something here though that I can't quite pinpoint, and it's a detractor. Almost like rotten fruit. Let's hope it doesn't carry over to the taste.
The taste: Maybe if I could get that smell out of my brain, it wouldn't transfer to the taste. But it does. I even poured it into a different pint glass to make sure it wasn't the glass. It instantly latches onto my tongue, but luckily, doesn't hang around for much longer. Just tried a swig while plugging my nose. A little better. I will admit: this is the last beer from the six pack and the first where I've really noticed this off-putting aroma. I think I'll brush it off as an anomaly. Let's focus on the other flavors.
It's balanced. Bitter, but not the bitterest. Sweet, but not the sweetest. Floral, but not the floral...est. It definitely has a sturdy backbone that a 7.2% beer must, but it's the bitter bite that is the lasting flavor.
The mouthfeel: Fairly delicate for a beer of this content. Runs smoothly through the throat. There isn't much carbonation, so it's a little more flat and less sparkling than many beer drinkers might be used to. Overall, it's a pleasant visitor to the mouth.
The drinkability: If it weren't for the rotten fruit factor, I'd say high. It drinks fast and leaves a good lasting impression. However, we can't ignore the most prominent characteristic, and I think a rotten taste would discourage me quite considerably.
I liked the first four I had more than I liked the one I so closely scrutinized. Therefore, I can't pan it. I also know that it's a well-respected beer and of the reviews I read after writing mine, none mentioned a similar peculiarity. The one feeling many reviewers had was a hesitancy to expect a decent beer from a can. This is absurd. One of our favorite midwest breweries (easily the best in Minnesota), Surly, packages its beers in cans, and many breweries have gone to cans in recent years: Oskar Blues and SKA come to mind. Don't be afraid to love a beer from a can.
21st Amendment Monk's Blood
Brewery: 21st Amendment, San Francisco, California (contract brewed again)
Style: Belgian Dark Ale
ABV: 8.3%
Rating: 4.5 stars
First things first: a KILLER can. Although it's incredibly difficult to read the inscription (it circles the can in a small medieval font), it looks cool, and the monk's haircuts are spectacular. Let's crack this baby open.
Here's the description given: a Belgian-style dark ale brewed with cinnamon, vanilla oak chips and dried figs. We'll get to the smell and taste in a bit, but first the appearance. The color is outstanding; it pours a deep purple and a full tulip glass maintains the purple, but looks pretty black next to the can. It's not a thick stout black, though. It looks more like a soda, with visible carbonation and a silky swirlability. Little head and virtually no lacing.
The figs are the first and strongest smell. At first sniff, I wondered if I could distinguish it from a fruit beer, but upon further sniffings, the vanilla and the oak worked their way through. The figs are prominent, but they are subdued by the other elements.
From the first taste, I'm pretty sure I'll like this more than the IPA. It's so silky, and the figs are delicious. The vanilla and cinnamon give it a sweet creamy texture and the Belgian yeast is evident, but not overpowering. It's warm, pleasant and so drinkable. This does not drink like a beer of its substance. Even more than the slippery IPA, Monk's Blood slides down the throat effortlessly.
This is the first release in the brewery's Insurrection Series (aren't all breweries doing limited edition series right now?). It most certainly won't be around for long. Do yourself a favor, go to your nearest bestest liquor store, drop ten bucks, and be a happy drinker.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
So what have I been drinking?
How about some November nuggets. Every time I post, I make a vow to become more consistent, and this time I really mean it. I've had lots of good stuff recently, from tasty porters and stouts to hop heavy fresh-hopped IPAs. November's been good to me, and here are some of the reasons why:
Michigan Stouts. In a three-day span I tackled New Holland The Poet, Dark Horse Tres Blueberry Stout and Bells Kalamazoo Stout. First time for each. Surprisingly, the blueberry stout took the honors for me. Surprising, perhaps, because anytime a fruit is mentioned in a beer's name, flags fly up the pole. I've had a lot of good fruit-infused beers in my time, but I can't help but conjure the horrifying thoughts that accompany Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat anytime I see a fruit on a beer label.
Subtlety is the key with Tres. And the fact that blueberry pairs very well with those rich stout flavors. The blueberry is quite present in the beer's smell, peeking out behind the malted wall of oats. The flavor is truer to a traditional oatmeal stout, with the blueberry shining on the back end of each swallow. Not overpowering, and a wonderful choice for a one-beer night.
The Poet gave me that classic silky oatmeal stout texture that goes down well on a chilly fall evening. You'd be doing these beers if you tried them in summer; the circumstances under which a beer is sampled factor largely into its reception. In this case, I picked the perfect night for the Poet. Well balanced sweetness to accompany the oats, with just enough bubble to keep the mouth lively.
The Kalamazoo Stout entered the unintentional derby as the favorite, and while it certainly didn't disappoint, it didn't pay out as its odds suggested. If this were a boxing title match, the pundits would be telling you none of these beers deserved to lose. What I liked about Kalamazoo: it's only 6% ABV, which is low by today's stout standards, so the complexity of flavors takes over. With the booze factor out of the way, you get a heavy dose of licorice and a nice vanilla sweetness. It has a very long, roasted linger that lets you keep tasting each sip long after it's gone. I also liked the earthy quality it possessed. Very different than the imperial stouts I've been trying, and part of me thinks I wasn't ready for that distinction. I'd like to have another.
What else excited me? Local upstart breweries, as in Fulton. Gives all of us homebrewers hope, doesn't it, that a couple garage brewers can make their way onto the tap list at the Muddy Pig. their debut, Sweet Child of Vine IPA, was a pleasant surprise. And a telling title: this IPA was especially viney--lots of garden fresh hops present. I swear I tasted basil, and strong. There are only five reviews thus far on this guy, and I seem to be the only one detecting that. I'm either getting better at flavor identification, or I'm still way off. Or I don't care. I like the cloudiness, and the hops struck me as a citrus/pine hybrid. Burps like a pale ale. In case you were wondering. All in all, a very nice debut. Next post: The Brewmasters Series/Single Batch/Unleashed/Unchained/Limited Release fad. Hits and misses.
Michigan Stouts. In a three-day span I tackled New Holland The Poet, Dark Horse Tres Blueberry Stout and Bells Kalamazoo Stout. First time for each. Surprisingly, the blueberry stout took the honors for me. Surprising, perhaps, because anytime a fruit is mentioned in a beer's name, flags fly up the pole. I've had a lot of good fruit-infused beers in my time, but I can't help but conjure the horrifying thoughts that accompany Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat anytime I see a fruit on a beer label.
Subtlety is the key with Tres. And the fact that blueberry pairs very well with those rich stout flavors. The blueberry is quite present in the beer's smell, peeking out behind the malted wall of oats. The flavor is truer to a traditional oatmeal stout, with the blueberry shining on the back end of each swallow. Not overpowering, and a wonderful choice for a one-beer night.
The Poet gave me that classic silky oatmeal stout texture that goes down well on a chilly fall evening. You'd be doing these beers if you tried them in summer; the circumstances under which a beer is sampled factor largely into its reception. In this case, I picked the perfect night for the Poet. Well balanced sweetness to accompany the oats, with just enough bubble to keep the mouth lively.
The Kalamazoo Stout entered the unintentional derby as the favorite, and while it certainly didn't disappoint, it didn't pay out as its odds suggested. If this were a boxing title match, the pundits would be telling you none of these beers deserved to lose. What I liked about Kalamazoo: it's only 6% ABV, which is low by today's stout standards, so the complexity of flavors takes over. With the booze factor out of the way, you get a heavy dose of licorice and a nice vanilla sweetness. It has a very long, roasted linger that lets you keep tasting each sip long after it's gone. I also liked the earthy quality it possessed. Very different than the imperial stouts I've been trying, and part of me thinks I wasn't ready for that distinction. I'd like to have another.
What else excited me? Local upstart breweries, as in Fulton. Gives all of us homebrewers hope, doesn't it, that a couple garage brewers can make their way onto the tap list at the Muddy Pig. their debut, Sweet Child of Vine IPA, was a pleasant surprise. And a telling title: this IPA was especially viney--lots of garden fresh hops present. I swear I tasted basil, and strong. There are only five reviews thus far on this guy, and I seem to be the only one detecting that. I'm either getting better at flavor identification, or I'm still way off. Or I don't care. I like the cloudiness, and the hops struck me as a citrus/pine hybrid. Burps like a pale ale. In case you were wondering. All in all, a very nice debut. Next post: The Brewmasters Series/Single Batch/Unleashed/Unchained/Limited Release fad. Hits and misses.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Milestone Beers
After nearly a two month absence, the blog is back.
As is the great beer. September was a bit of a break for me, when I tallied only 13 new beers. That ranks as the fewest for any month since I started tracking in mid-February 2008. The reason for this? I was nearing my biggest milestone beer to date; beer 500.
I had the perfect beer in mind, though I'd have to wait until October 7 to try Surly Wet, their highly-anticipated fresh-hopped IPA. Typically, hops are harvested and dried before being added to your favorite beer. With a fresh or wet hop beer, the hops are harvested and immediately added to the brew, without being dried. A hop head's dream. Surly shipped in 1400 pounds of Washington hops for Wet.
The release party, held at Uptown's newest Thai restaurant, Roat Osha, was crowded, and it probably didn't help that it coincided with a Twins playoff game. The beer didn't disappoint, even if the elbow-to-elbow bar felt more like a Saturday night in Dinkytown than a Wednesday at a Thai joint.
The beer: classic grapefruit and floral aromas, instantly identifiable as a West Coast IPA. It had been a long time since I'd had a hoppy delight, I realized. The taste featured more pine than citrus, and the bitter finish was awesome. I like to describe that sensation as something that sucks the moisture from the roof of your mouth and buries it down your throat. I love that feeling. A nice, long linger.
I've had a number of fresh hopped beers (and I had a handful more this week) and I've found that they are rewarding for hop purists, but even I sometimes struggle near the end of a pint. I need balance. But Surly Wet got better with each sip, and stood up after several tastings. A week later, I tried it along side four other fresh hop beers: Left Hand's Warrior IPA, Cascade and Willamette versions of Two Brothers Heavy Handed IPA and Town Hall's Fresh Hop 2009. Surly was still the best. Not that I'm biased.
I'd finally matched the accomplishment of drinking 500 different beers (in 21 months) with a deserving beer. I knew I'd struggled with this in the past, often forgetting when milestones were approaching or losing track of the beers I'd had. This time I nailed it.
Or so I thought.
Tonight, I re-calculated my archives to determine beers 100, 200, 300 and 400. Somehow, along the way, I lost track of a couple beers. Surly Wet was beer #502.
The milestone beers to date:
100: Michelob Ultra Tuscan Orange Grapefruit. What a mistake, but one that was entirely intentional. One must tour the basement before graduating to the penthouse. .5 stars
200: Hacker-Pschorr Oktoberfest Marzen. I don't particularly enjoy traditional Oktoberfests. 2.5 stars
300: Medalla Light. Puerto Rico's macro! Whatever. I was drinking a beer on a patio in Puerto Rico. 1.5 stars
400: Tyranena Bitter Woman in the Rye. Ooh! A chance here. But no, a major disappointment in my opinion. 3 stars
500: Sam Adams Oktoberfest. Blah. 2.5 stars
There will be more milestones to come, for sure, with the next biggest being my 1000th. I've got Surly penciled in for that one.
As is the great beer. September was a bit of a break for me, when I tallied only 13 new beers. That ranks as the fewest for any month since I started tracking in mid-February 2008. The reason for this? I was nearing my biggest milestone beer to date; beer 500.
I had the perfect beer in mind, though I'd have to wait until October 7 to try Surly Wet, their highly-anticipated fresh-hopped IPA. Typically, hops are harvested and dried before being added to your favorite beer. With a fresh or wet hop beer, the hops are harvested and immediately added to the brew, without being dried. A hop head's dream. Surly shipped in 1400 pounds of Washington hops for Wet.
The release party, held at Uptown's newest Thai restaurant, Roat Osha, was crowded, and it probably didn't help that it coincided with a Twins playoff game. The beer didn't disappoint, even if the elbow-to-elbow bar felt more like a Saturday night in Dinkytown than a Wednesday at a Thai joint.
The beer: classic grapefruit and floral aromas, instantly identifiable as a West Coast IPA. It had been a long time since I'd had a hoppy delight, I realized. The taste featured more pine than citrus, and the bitter finish was awesome. I like to describe that sensation as something that sucks the moisture from the roof of your mouth and buries it down your throat. I love that feeling. A nice, long linger.
I've had a number of fresh hopped beers (and I had a handful more this week) and I've found that they are rewarding for hop purists, but even I sometimes struggle near the end of a pint. I need balance. But Surly Wet got better with each sip, and stood up after several tastings. A week later, I tried it along side four other fresh hop beers: Left Hand's Warrior IPA, Cascade and Willamette versions of Two Brothers Heavy Handed IPA and Town Hall's Fresh Hop 2009. Surly was still the best. Not that I'm biased.
I'd finally matched the accomplishment of drinking 500 different beers (in 21 months) with a deserving beer. I knew I'd struggled with this in the past, often forgetting when milestones were approaching or losing track of the beers I'd had. This time I nailed it.
Or so I thought.
Tonight, I re-calculated my archives to determine beers 100, 200, 300 and 400. Somehow, along the way, I lost track of a couple beers. Surly Wet was beer #502.
The milestone beers to date:
100: Michelob Ultra Tuscan Orange Grapefruit. What a mistake, but one that was entirely intentional. One must tour the basement before graduating to the penthouse. .5 stars
200: Hacker-Pschorr Oktoberfest Marzen. I don't particularly enjoy traditional Oktoberfests. 2.5 stars
300: Medalla Light. Puerto Rico's macro! Whatever. I was drinking a beer on a patio in Puerto Rico. 1.5 stars
400: Tyranena Bitter Woman in the Rye. Ooh! A chance here. But no, a major disappointment in my opinion. 3 stars
500: Sam Adams Oktoberfest. Blah. 2.5 stars
There will be more milestones to come, for sure, with the next biggest being my 1000th. I've got Surly penciled in for that one.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Town Hall Duo
Though I live in Minneapolis, I don't make it to the best local brewpub, Minneapolis Town Hall Brewery, nearly enough. This is something I've been saying I need to change for four years now. Nice atmosphere, new beers virtually every week, good food if you're interested. Luckily, I was able to find my way there twice in the past four days, and though I enjoyed only one beverage each time, both stops were well worth the barely ten minutes it takes me to get there. Plus, I FINALLY got to try the much ballyhooed Mango Mama, which has eluded me for all these years.
I stopped in Saturday afternoon with a California uncle (who has more Town Hall paraphernalia than I do), and both of us decided to try the seasonal cherry ale. Good reviews from the bartender. Won't get bad reviews from me, but I'd put them a half-star short of good. On the spectrum of cherry beers I've had, this one fits right about in the middle when it comes to both tartness and enjoyment. If a Belgian kriek is a ten on the tart scale, this one would be about a four I'd say, but it's not nearly as sweet as the sweetest of girly fruit beers I've had. And when you can compare every cherry beer you ever have to Sam Adams Cherry Wheat, nothing looks that bad.
Fairly easy to drink, especially on a sunny afternoon. Bonus points for drinkability perhaps, but I don't think I'd say I'd order another if I was presented with other options. Cherries were about the only detectable flavor, though, and while I can appreciate a delicate summer ale, I usually am looking for more of a kick. This was simply the appetizer for a huge day of beer. Did its job.
Tuesday evening, however, on a whim, I found myself back on the 7 Corner patio with a friend I wanted to introduce to the Minneapolis brewpub scene. Since we both work in St. Paul, and there are a handful of great beer options within a stone's throw of the 9-5, we rarely cross the river. Plus, there's this weird deal where people from St. Paul DO NOT venture into Minneapolis. Only out of necessity. I'm not a lifelong Minneapolitan, so I have no problems splitting my time, but seriously, weren't they ever curious? Didn't they ever see a restaurant review that intrigued them? No trips to the record stores? The coffee shops? The garage sales? Anything? This is a chapter in a book I'm not writing.
Anyway, I was expecting to enjoy a Cascale Ale, their first in a series of single hopped beers intended to help drinkers identify their favorite hop varieties. A nice idea. To my surprise, Mango Mama appeared on the whiteboard draught list! I was shocked enough that I yelled to the loitering waitresses as we walked in, embarassing my already hesitant St. Paulite companion.
I love the original Masala Mama, but had heard from various sources that the Mango tops it. The trouble is, it's rarely around for more than a day (Monday) and I haven't been able to find my way there in time to get one before. This was my night.
There was a tiny problem in this plot: I don't like mangoes. Don't hate them, but would never buy one. Is it perhaps because my wife is allergic to them? Doesn't help. But no, mangoes just don't do it for me. I'd rather have a pineapple, but there is no Pina Mama.
I'm living proof that you need not like mangoes to love the hell out of a Mango Mama. The sweetness was definitely present in the smell, but danced nicely with the bitter hops I associate with the Masala. And the sweet mango bounces off your lips instantly. Lingers for a bit, and then gives way to a majestic mouth-sweep of bitterness. It's interesting to read the reviews of this one, because half of them say the mango dominates, and half say the hops balance it out at the end. Place me squarely in the second camp. I did not think the mango was overbearing. At all.
This was a beer I wanted to make last two days. How good was it, you ask? With one solid swig left in my goblet, a moth found its way into my remaining suds and was unable to hoist itself out. I thought about it for a while, at first resigning myself to giving away that final sip, but then deciding I would be doing the beer an injustice by not finishing it. I have no fear of moths, but it's no fun fishing one out of a beer. But it had to be done. My companion agreed. After all, there haven't been any diagnosed cases of Moth Flu yet, have there?
I stopped in Saturday afternoon with a California uncle (who has more Town Hall paraphernalia than I do), and both of us decided to try the seasonal cherry ale. Good reviews from the bartender. Won't get bad reviews from me, but I'd put them a half-star short of good. On the spectrum of cherry beers I've had, this one fits right about in the middle when it comes to both tartness and enjoyment. If a Belgian kriek is a ten on the tart scale, this one would be about a four I'd say, but it's not nearly as sweet as the sweetest of girly fruit beers I've had. And when you can compare every cherry beer you ever have to Sam Adams Cherry Wheat, nothing looks that bad.
Fairly easy to drink, especially on a sunny afternoon. Bonus points for drinkability perhaps, but I don't think I'd say I'd order another if I was presented with other options. Cherries were about the only detectable flavor, though, and while I can appreciate a delicate summer ale, I usually am looking for more of a kick. This was simply the appetizer for a huge day of beer. Did its job.
Tuesday evening, however, on a whim, I found myself back on the 7 Corner patio with a friend I wanted to introduce to the Minneapolis brewpub scene. Since we both work in St. Paul, and there are a handful of great beer options within a stone's throw of the 9-5, we rarely cross the river. Plus, there's this weird deal where people from St. Paul DO NOT venture into Minneapolis. Only out of necessity. I'm not a lifelong Minneapolitan, so I have no problems splitting my time, but seriously, weren't they ever curious? Didn't they ever see a restaurant review that intrigued them? No trips to the record stores? The coffee shops? The garage sales? Anything? This is a chapter in a book I'm not writing.
Anyway, I was expecting to enjoy a Cascale Ale, their first in a series of single hopped beers intended to help drinkers identify their favorite hop varieties. A nice idea. To my surprise, Mango Mama appeared on the whiteboard draught list! I was shocked enough that I yelled to the loitering waitresses as we walked in, embarassing my already hesitant St. Paulite companion.
I love the original Masala Mama, but had heard from various sources that the Mango tops it. The trouble is, it's rarely around for more than a day (Monday) and I haven't been able to find my way there in time to get one before. This was my night.
There was a tiny problem in this plot: I don't like mangoes. Don't hate them, but would never buy one. Is it perhaps because my wife is allergic to them? Doesn't help. But no, mangoes just don't do it for me. I'd rather have a pineapple, but there is no Pina Mama.
I'm living proof that you need not like mangoes to love the hell out of a Mango Mama. The sweetness was definitely present in the smell, but danced nicely with the bitter hops I associate with the Masala. And the sweet mango bounces off your lips instantly. Lingers for a bit, and then gives way to a majestic mouth-sweep of bitterness. It's interesting to read the reviews of this one, because half of them say the mango dominates, and half say the hops balance it out at the end. Place me squarely in the second camp. I did not think the mango was overbearing. At all.
This was a beer I wanted to make last two days. How good was it, you ask? With one solid swig left in my goblet, a moth found its way into my remaining suds and was unable to hoist itself out. I thought about it for a while, at first resigning myself to giving away that final sip, but then deciding I would be doing the beer an injustice by not finishing it. I have no fear of moths, but it's no fun fishing one out of a beer. But it had to be done. My companion agreed. After all, there haven't been any diagnosed cases of Moth Flu yet, have there?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Catching Up
I wish I could say my neglect of this blog has no correlation to my beer consumption, but sadly, it's direct. Money's going elsewhere, time's being split and I'm once again undergoing a mini-cleanse. I did manage to find a quiet night for the Russian River Consecration I scored from my uber-generous Uncle Mike. A beautiful beer, one that both Kristie and I enjoyed, but one that I simply can't find enough fitting words to review. Maybe someday. It wasn't my favorite beer of the year, but had I had it as one of my first sours, it probably would be. Follow? Anyway, the fact that it had 10% ABV completely blew my mind. Drinking the whole bottle would be quite literally like drinking an entire bottle of wine. Thankfully, Kristie helped out a bit, though I wasn't a huge fan of sharing. A rare treat I hope to enjoy again someday.
Summit Horizon Red Ale
Brewery: Summit, St. Paul, MN
Style: Amber Ale
ABV: 5.7%
Rating: 3.5 stars
New full time release by Summit, had to give it an early test run. Smell reminded me instantly of Bell's Two Hearted, which is always a good sign. The blunt American hops never fail to please. Taste, however, wasn't quite as wonderous. I guess I prefer something a bit more lively, such as the Two Hearted, and this one settles in a little hard for my palate. Maybe that's why I'm not generally a huge fan of ambers. Not lively enough to satisfy my most loyal taste buds, and not full enough to smooth my mouth and stomach with chewy goodness. If you're not following this, I'm not either, so don't worry about it.
Essentially, if I'm going to grab a pint of Summit or pick up a six pack, I still probably lean toward the classic EPA. Never disappoints. The Horizon Red isn't good enough for me to chew on one all evening, and it isn't drinkable enough for me to want to drink six of 'em. Not the most glowing of reviews I suppose.
It took me six months, but you can only hold down a music junkie for so long. And after a dreadful 2008, I'm back on the pulse and enjoying quite a few things these days in the music world. So here's a tiny taste of my picks for the first third of 2009
Rock Compilation Album Division: Dark Was the Night. Running unopposed. Quite a few solid tracks on this AIDS benefit album. Here's my quick list:
"Knotty Pine," Dirty Projectors and David Byrne
"Cello Song," The Books featuring Jose Gonzalez
"Train Song," Feist and Ben Gibbard
"So Far Around the Bend," The National
"Sleepless," The Decemberists
"Hey Snow White," The New Pornographers
But the disc's brightest star is Sufjan Stevens covering the Castanets' "You Are the Blood." Intoxicating.
Concept Rock Opera Album Division: "The Hazards of Love," The Decemberists. Again, pretty much unopposed. Don't love it, but it has its moments, and the thought of devising an entire work of this confusion and depth from one 60s vocal piece is astounding.
Pitchfork Retro Tech Lite Rock Division: "Daniel," Bat For Lashes
Afro Pop Division: "Sabali," Amadou and Mariam
Canadian Synth Pop Division: "Gimme Sympathy," Metric
Obligated by Previous Work Division: "The Palace at 4 a.m.," A.C. Newman
Revenge of the French Pop Rock Division: "1901," Phoenix
Won't elaborate on those, but check 'em out if you wish. More beer SOON.
Summit Horizon Red Ale
Brewery: Summit, St. Paul, MNStyle: Amber Ale
ABV: 5.7%
Rating: 3.5 stars
New full time release by Summit, had to give it an early test run. Smell reminded me instantly of Bell's Two Hearted, which is always a good sign. The blunt American hops never fail to please. Taste, however, wasn't quite as wonderous. I guess I prefer something a bit more lively, such as the Two Hearted, and this one settles in a little hard for my palate. Maybe that's why I'm not generally a huge fan of ambers. Not lively enough to satisfy my most loyal taste buds, and not full enough to smooth my mouth and stomach with chewy goodness. If you're not following this, I'm not either, so don't worry about it.
Essentially, if I'm going to grab a pint of Summit or pick up a six pack, I still probably lean toward the classic EPA. Never disappoints. The Horizon Red isn't good enough for me to chew on one all evening, and it isn't drinkable enough for me to want to drink six of 'em. Not the most glowing of reviews I suppose.
It took me six months, but you can only hold down a music junkie for so long. And after a dreadful 2008, I'm back on the pulse and enjoying quite a few things these days in the music world. So here's a tiny taste of my picks for the first third of 2009
Rock Compilation Album Division: Dark Was the Night. Running unopposed. Quite a few solid tracks on this AIDS benefit album. Here's my quick list:
"Knotty Pine," Dirty Projectors and David Byrne
"Cello Song," The Books featuring Jose Gonzalez
"Train Song," Feist and Ben Gibbard
"So Far Around the Bend," The National
"Sleepless," The Decemberists
"Hey Snow White," The New Pornographers
But the disc's brightest star is Sufjan Stevens covering the Castanets' "You Are the Blood." Intoxicating.
Concept Rock Opera Album Division: "The Hazards of Love," The Decemberists. Again, pretty much unopposed. Don't love it, but it has its moments, and the thought of devising an entire work of this confusion and depth from one 60s vocal piece is astounding.
Pitchfork Retro Tech Lite Rock Division: "Daniel," Bat For Lashes
Afro Pop Division: "Sabali," Amadou and Mariam
Canadian Synth Pop Division: "Gimme Sympathy," Metric
Obligated by Previous Work Division: "The Palace at 4 a.m.," A.C. Newman
Revenge of the French Pop Rock Division: "1901," Phoenix
Won't elaborate on those, but check 'em out if you wish. More beer SOON.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
April's Fools and Finds
My latest batch of samplings has been incredibly polar. In the past week, I've added two five-stars to my tally (giving me ten out of my 360 rated beers), but have also been let down and borderline disgusted by a couple others. No more intro time wasted here. First the misses.
Tyranena Paradise by the Dashboard Lights
Brewery: Tyranena, Lake Mills, Wisconsin
Style: Imperial Porter
ABV: 7.5%
Rating: 3 stars
Don't confuse: I'm all about imperial porters, and I think we'll be seeing more of them soon. Here are the issues. I've noticed with Tyranena beers more than any other that the bottled versions fall far short of their draught counterparts. This was the case with Hop Whore, Scurvy, and now Paradise. Though I haven't had it on tap, I imagine it is much livelier, as the others were. In a bottle, it bogs you down.
Perhaps my taste buds weren't firing this particular night, or perhaps I had unfair expectations of the cherry aspect of this beer, but I didn't find it. And this from a Brewers Gone Wild! beer? I thought subtlety was an afterthought in this series.
More troubling was the beer's deterioration throughout the drinking process. I would given it a far more favorable rating if I'd only had a 4 oz sample, but by the last few gulps, this one had lost most of its bite. Got flat and dull on me.
This is one I'd try again, because I want to like it. Rather, I want to not dislike it.
Left Hand Juju Ginger
Brewery: Left Hand, Longmont, Colorado
Style: Herb/Spice Beer
ABV: 4%
Rating: 1.5 stars
On tap at the Happy Gnome. I am a huge ginger guy, love to use it when I cook, love me some ginger ale, ginger beer. I like ginger. Naturally, I was intrigued by a beer that substitutes freshly ground ginger root in place of half the hops.
Results were not favorable on this day. It smelled good, with major ginger punch bursting through. Big ginger is fine in the aroma, but it was too much for me when it came to the actual taste. It felt halfway between a natural ginger beer or real ginger ale and a beer with ginger notes. Not quite as refreshing as the former, not as punchy as the latter. I guess I'd rather have a full commitment. I want either a non-alcoholic, beautifully blended ginger ale or a satisfying, quenching beer with some ginger notes added. That's just me, I guess.
Now, the successes.
Style: Double IPA
ABV: 8 %
Rating: 5 stars
Had this for a month or so, and I had been saving it for the perfect occasion. First, I thought the Gophers NCAA tournament game would suffice, but I found myself not in the mood. And I didn't see any worthy moments on the horizon, so last night became the night. Perhaps the 16 Grit restored my confidence in the style.
Now, Pliny, based on reputation, is both blessed and damned. I guess I'd generally call it one of the 25 or 30 highest-rated beers on earth. Thus, you know it's good. A beer with that many ratings isn't in that position by accident. However, it's a bit unfair to expect a brew to be the best you've ever had and build it up as such for the year before you get to try it. In a way, I wish the ratings were only available after you've rated it. If that were the case, though, I'd probably never try this one because the legend wouldn't exist in my mind.
So I tried to go into the bottle with as open a mind as possible.
The aroma emanates as soon as the cap pops, and I'm instantly swept away to a land of hyperbole and bow-down-edness. Impossible for me to smell those grapefruit hops and not crumble. Pliny has the look of a beer unparalleled in its freshness. Extremely lively carbonation, and the color was much brighter than most DIPAs I've seen. Plus, the bottle gives it that extra boost of class. Nothing flashy; plain colors, text and design. We don't need a fancy label. We're Pliny the Elder.
Balance is the key separation between the DIPA men and the boys. Pliny dove in as syrup, a sweet creamy smooth thing, only to bite the roof of your mouth as soon as you feel comfortable. I love that bitter drag--takes that sweet syrup right away. The round flavor left me wanting nothing.
Or does Pliny get a boost because it is so highly-rated? If I blind taste-tested this next to, say, a Goose Island Imperial IPA or a Dark Horse Double Crooked Tree IPA, would I be able to sense the difference? I think, because of the modest alcohol content, I would. The trend is to beef these babies up as much as possible. The Double Crooked Tree is a prime example, with the ABV at an astonishing 13.6%. At that point, haven't you become something other than an IPA?
That's the beauty of Pliny the Elder. Its 8% content is perfect. Not arrogant in either direction. Enough alcohol to feel, but not to the point that it dominates the taste.
After tasting, I had to reflect. What constitutes a five-star beer, and does this qualify? I decided it was definitely one of the ten best beers I've had, and that makes it deserving. What's the point in having five-star beers if you never give them out? Ten out of 360 (less than 3%) is a good rate for five-stars. Besides, who is the rating for? This blog? My records? Who cares? I loved this beer, so five stars it is.
Tyranena Paradise by the Dashboard Lights
Brewery: Tyranena, Lake Mills, WisconsinStyle: Imperial Porter
ABV: 7.5%
Rating: 3 stars
Don't confuse: I'm all about imperial porters, and I think we'll be seeing more of them soon. Here are the issues. I've noticed with Tyranena beers more than any other that the bottled versions fall far short of their draught counterparts. This was the case with Hop Whore, Scurvy, and now Paradise. Though I haven't had it on tap, I imagine it is much livelier, as the others were. In a bottle, it bogs you down.
Perhaps my taste buds weren't firing this particular night, or perhaps I had unfair expectations of the cherry aspect of this beer, but I didn't find it. And this from a Brewers Gone Wild! beer? I thought subtlety was an afterthought in this series.
More troubling was the beer's deterioration throughout the drinking process. I would given it a far more favorable rating if I'd only had a 4 oz sample, but by the last few gulps, this one had lost most of its bite. Got flat and dull on me.
This is one I'd try again, because I want to like it. Rather, I want to not dislike it.
Left Hand Juju Ginger
Brewery: Left Hand, Longmont, ColoradoStyle: Herb/Spice Beer
ABV: 4%
Rating: 1.5 stars
On tap at the Happy Gnome. I am a huge ginger guy, love to use it when I cook, love me some ginger ale, ginger beer. I like ginger. Naturally, I was intrigued by a beer that substitutes freshly ground ginger root in place of half the hops.
Results were not favorable on this day. It smelled good, with major ginger punch bursting through. Big ginger is fine in the aroma, but it was too much for me when it came to the actual taste. It felt halfway between a natural ginger beer or real ginger ale and a beer with ginger notes. Not quite as refreshing as the former, not as punchy as the latter. I guess I'd rather have a full commitment. I want either a non-alcoholic, beautifully blended ginger ale or a satisfying, quenching beer with some ginger notes added. That's just me, I guess.
Now, the successes.
Surly 16 Grit
Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, Minnesota
Style: Imperial IPA
ABV: 9%
Rating: 5 stars
Putting this tasting off for a while, for reasons unknown. Maybe because I'm a bit tired of hop juggernauts these days. Everyone's doing a double IPA, and it's not hard to please me. I'd like to be a little more discerning. With that said, I imagined it would be hard for me to not like this beer. Surly, at this point, gets the benefit of the doubt on just about everything they do, and they deserve it.
The amarillo hops were beautiful in this one, and while I'm not too familiar with glaciers or warriors, I can't help but think they helped as well. I liked this one initially, but had fallen heavy for it by the end of the glass. If you can work me from a 4- to a 5-star in one tasting, you've earned that rating.
I particularly enjoyed the finish. Dry enough to make me want another sip, but not dry enough to suck the life from my mouth. I enjoy both, but I felt it balanced better without the big back end grab. There's still room in my beer log for double IPAs, it seems, and this one got me in just the right frame of mind to crack open
Russian River Pliny the Elder
Style: Double IPA
ABV: 8 %
Rating: 5 stars
Had this for a month or so, and I had been saving it for the perfect occasion. First, I thought the Gophers NCAA tournament game would suffice, but I found myself not in the mood. And I didn't see any worthy moments on the horizon, so last night became the night. Perhaps the 16 Grit restored my confidence in the style.
Now, Pliny, based on reputation, is both blessed and damned. I guess I'd generally call it one of the 25 or 30 highest-rated beers on earth. Thus, you know it's good. A beer with that many ratings isn't in that position by accident. However, it's a bit unfair to expect a brew to be the best you've ever had and build it up as such for the year before you get to try it. In a way, I wish the ratings were only available after you've rated it. If that were the case, though, I'd probably never try this one because the legend wouldn't exist in my mind.
So I tried to go into the bottle with as open a mind as possible.
The aroma emanates as soon as the cap pops, and I'm instantly swept away to a land of hyperbole and bow-down-edness. Impossible for me to smell those grapefruit hops and not crumble. Pliny has the look of a beer unparalleled in its freshness. Extremely lively carbonation, and the color was much brighter than most DIPAs I've seen. Plus, the bottle gives it that extra boost of class. Nothing flashy; plain colors, text and design. We don't need a fancy label. We're Pliny the Elder.
Balance is the key separation between the DIPA men and the boys. Pliny dove in as syrup, a sweet creamy smooth thing, only to bite the roof of your mouth as soon as you feel comfortable. I love that bitter drag--takes that sweet syrup right away. The round flavor left me wanting nothing.
Or does Pliny get a boost because it is so highly-rated? If I blind taste-tested this next to, say, a Goose Island Imperial IPA or a Dark Horse Double Crooked Tree IPA, would I be able to sense the difference? I think, because of the modest alcohol content, I would. The trend is to beef these babies up as much as possible. The Double Crooked Tree is a prime example, with the ABV at an astonishing 13.6%. At that point, haven't you become something other than an IPA?
That's the beauty of Pliny the Elder. Its 8% content is perfect. Not arrogant in either direction. Enough alcohol to feel, but not to the point that it dominates the taste.
After tasting, I had to reflect. What constitutes a five-star beer, and does this qualify? I decided it was definitely one of the ten best beers I've had, and that makes it deserving. What's the point in having five-star beers if you never give them out? Ten out of 360 (less than 3%) is a good rate for five-stars. Besides, who is the rating for? This blog? My records? Who cares? I loved this beer, so five stars it is.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Saturday Snippets
I had been bracing myself for weeks for what was planned for last night: a trip into downtown Minneapolis' Shout House, one of my least favorite destinations in the cities. In fact, it's been quite a while since I've ventured downtown on a Saturday night; more recently than my college days, but not by much. It's just not a scene I particularly enjoy. So many obstacles. Who's driving? Where are you parking? Cab home? Bus? Designated Driver? How much is the cover? How packed will it be? And certainly not least of all, will there be any decent beer available? And no, Heineken doesn't count.
The Shout House specifically annoys me. I understand why it's a popular destination: Dueling pianos, rowdy atmosphere, central location. I just don't like paying eight bucks for the right to get sweaty waiting in line for a $6 Rolling Rock and be blown away by airplane-decibel, amusement park talent. Thus, to avoid tricky circumstances and careless spending, I volunteered to be the night's driver. I was ready for the challenge.
The call came at about 7:30 that the night's organizer had to bow out due to immanent illness. Since Kristie and I were already geared up for a night on the town, we didn't want it to go to waste. But without the ring leader, the Shout House was quickly eliminated from the itinerary.
After kicking around several potential destinations, we settled on the Lyndale/Lake St. part of town, where there are several decent options available. I was especially intrigued by the new sake brewery, Moto-i. Indeed, the first sake brewery anywhere in the world outside Japan. Reviews have seemed generally favorable and I knew their draught list was decent, so I imagined it might be an enjoyable and culturing experience.
We arrived about 9:30 to a fully-bellied bar and restaurant, and were told by the host we might be able to find a stray seat. We weren't, and were stuck in an awkward point of buoyancy; not committed enough to wedge our way between barstoolers, but not intending to order food and therefore denied a table upstairs. There was, however, a back room that was 75% empty. The tables were marked as reserved, but we asked the waitress if we could sit there anyway. She had no problem with it, but pointed us back to the host, who informed us that it was reserved for a private party. I said we would happily leave when the party arrived, but there were at least six available tables at the moment, and people were leaving the room already. Still he denied, with a half-assed smile and half-hearted apology. I guess I wouldn't turn away a customer these days, but that's me. I imagine if we had just sat down without asking, we would have been fine, but this is Minnesota, and people are generally accommodating if you ask.
We left, annoyed by insincere efforts and an overall haughty attitude by the hosts (there were at least three of them at the door). I hope this place succeeds, but it will not be because of my patronage. Shame.
We pressed on to the much more inviting, laid back vibe of the Herkimer. I often forget about the Herkimer as a local brewpub option, despite the fact that it's by far the closest to my house. Their beers are generally straight-forward and can be punchless, but they are interesting and a little more atypical than most. Plus, the food is outstanding (save the mini egg sandos). We had no problem ordering drinks, didn't feel uncomfortable standing around, and soon found ourselves a table, where we would be met by two friends.
I first tried the Alt, a style of beer that I'm utterly clueless about and formed no preconceived notions about appearance, smell or taste. I guess I'm still a bit unsure. Lighting is always an issue in a busy weekend bar scene, but the color appeared a bit coppery; not amber, but not pale either. They likened the beer on the menu to a German pale ale, and some of the classic German hoppiness was there, I guess. Overall, it was pretty bland. I wrote on a piece of scratch paper (I really need to be more prepared for these tastings), "very spiked dullness." Make of that what you will. It was like they wanted to blow dullness out of the park. Didn't leave much taste anywhere on the palate. I will say, however, as far as drinkability goes, it was a champion. Easily could have guzzled a few pints of these without thinking about it.
I moved next to the Sky Pilot Kellerbier, an unfiltered beer that I liked more than the Alt. Much more golden in color, with a much more present punch to all senses. Reminded me of their pilsner, but with a slightly more enjoyable hop for my taste. Good roundness in the mouth and carbonated well. Had a nice dry finish. Again, props to Herkimer for producing off-kilter beers and seemingly doing true versions of them. They are hard to place in my mental beer spectrum, and maybe I'm punishing them because I have no similar beers to compare them to. I really tried to figure out how to write the previous sentence with a preposition, but each version sounded laborious and unnatural. Does anyone follow that rule anyway?
Finally, we found ourselves at Bryant Lake Bowl, a Minneapolis legend and great spot to wind down for the night. They have a decent tap list, though I wish they had more seasonals. Kristie loves it because they have Ace Pear on tap (for $5.75, though!). I tried the Rogue seasonal, which the waitress called an anniversary beer. This is maybe my biggest beef with beer bars--not all, of course, and not every employee--but if you work at a place that could potentially attract beer geeks, you need to know the beers. I need to know the beers. When I had trouble pinpointing a Rogue Anniversary this morning, I called back to enquire further and was told it was the Rogue Anniversary Mogul.
This beer does not exist on Rogue's website. RateBeer has a Rogue Mogul Ale with 131 ratings, but the BeerAdvocate Mogul 2007 has just four. Still, Mogul is not listed on the brewery's website. Nevermind. Mogul Ale it is.
An American Strong Ale, apparently, and I'm not sure I like the style. It's sort of a wide category, though, but this one was malt heavy, and the sweetness that was prominent in my nostrils did not show up in my mouth. I was disappointed by that. For the malty power it had up front, it finished quite bitterly. It was a bit confusing to me. I like the dry, bitter aftertaste, but I don't know if I love it after such a hearty malt opening. I think most beer junkies would consider it the best beer I had all night, but I'd probably rather have the Herkimer Kellerbier.
Morals: Don't go to Moto-i expecting red carpet treatment. Don't go to the Herkimer expecting taste bud warfare. Don't go to Bryant Lake Bowl expecting precice beer identification. Go there, have a few decent, uncommon beers, relax, relax, and tip your waitress.
The Shout House specifically annoys me. I understand why it's a popular destination: Dueling pianos, rowdy atmosphere, central location. I just don't like paying eight bucks for the right to get sweaty waiting in line for a $6 Rolling Rock and be blown away by airplane-decibel, amusement park talent. Thus, to avoid tricky circumstances and careless spending, I volunteered to be the night's driver. I was ready for the challenge.
The call came at about 7:30 that the night's organizer had to bow out due to immanent illness. Since Kristie and I were already geared up for a night on the town, we didn't want it to go to waste. But without the ring leader, the Shout House was quickly eliminated from the itinerary.
After kicking around several potential destinations, we settled on the Lyndale/Lake St. part of town, where there are several decent options available. I was especially intrigued by the new sake brewery, Moto-i. Indeed, the first sake brewery anywhere in the world outside Japan. Reviews have seemed generally favorable and I knew their draught list was decent, so I imagined it might be an enjoyable and culturing experience.
We arrived about 9:30 to a fully-bellied bar and restaurant, and were told by the host we might be able to find a stray seat. We weren't, and were stuck in an awkward point of buoyancy; not committed enough to wedge our way between barstoolers, but not intending to order food and therefore denied a table upstairs. There was, however, a back room that was 75% empty. The tables were marked as reserved, but we asked the waitress if we could sit there anyway. She had no problem with it, but pointed us back to the host, who informed us that it was reserved for a private party. I said we would happily leave when the party arrived, but there were at least six available tables at the moment, and people were leaving the room already. Still he denied, with a half-assed smile and half-hearted apology. I guess I wouldn't turn away a customer these days, but that's me. I imagine if we had just sat down without asking, we would have been fine, but this is Minnesota, and people are generally accommodating if you ask.
We left, annoyed by insincere efforts and an overall haughty attitude by the hosts (there were at least three of them at the door). I hope this place succeeds, but it will not be because of my patronage. Shame.
We pressed on to the much more inviting, laid back vibe of the Herkimer. I often forget about the Herkimer as a local brewpub option, despite the fact that it's by far the closest to my house. Their beers are generally straight-forward and can be punchless, but they are interesting and a little more atypical than most. Plus, the food is outstanding (save the mini egg sandos). We had no problem ordering drinks, didn't feel uncomfortable standing around, and soon found ourselves a table, where we would be met by two friends.
I first tried the Alt, a style of beer that I'm utterly clueless about and formed no preconceived notions about appearance, smell or taste. I guess I'm still a bit unsure. Lighting is always an issue in a busy weekend bar scene, but the color appeared a bit coppery; not amber, but not pale either. They likened the beer on the menu to a German pale ale, and some of the classic German hoppiness was there, I guess. Overall, it was pretty bland. I wrote on a piece of scratch paper (I really need to be more prepared for these tastings), "very spiked dullness." Make of that what you will. It was like they wanted to blow dullness out of the park. Didn't leave much taste anywhere on the palate. I will say, however, as far as drinkability goes, it was a champion. Easily could have guzzled a few pints of these without thinking about it.
I moved next to the Sky Pilot Kellerbier, an unfiltered beer that I liked more than the Alt. Much more golden in color, with a much more present punch to all senses. Reminded me of their pilsner, but with a slightly more enjoyable hop for my taste. Good roundness in the mouth and carbonated well. Had a nice dry finish. Again, props to Herkimer for producing off-kilter beers and seemingly doing true versions of them. They are hard to place in my mental beer spectrum, and maybe I'm punishing them because I have no similar beers to compare them to. I really tried to figure out how to write the previous sentence with a preposition, but each version sounded laborious and unnatural. Does anyone follow that rule anyway?
Finally, we found ourselves at Bryant Lake Bowl, a Minneapolis legend and great spot to wind down for the night. They have a decent tap list, though I wish they had more seasonals. Kristie loves it because they have Ace Pear on tap (for $5.75, though!). I tried the Rogue seasonal, which the waitress called an anniversary beer. This is maybe my biggest beef with beer bars--not all, of course, and not every employee--but if you work at a place that could potentially attract beer geeks, you need to know the beers. I need to know the beers. When I had trouble pinpointing a Rogue Anniversary this morning, I called back to enquire further and was told it was the Rogue Anniversary Mogul.
This beer does not exist on Rogue's website. RateBeer has a Rogue Mogul Ale with 131 ratings, but the BeerAdvocate Mogul 2007 has just four. Still, Mogul is not listed on the brewery's website. Nevermind. Mogul Ale it is.
An American Strong Ale, apparently, and I'm not sure I like the style. It's sort of a wide category, though, but this one was malt heavy, and the sweetness that was prominent in my nostrils did not show up in my mouth. I was disappointed by that. For the malty power it had up front, it finished quite bitterly. It was a bit confusing to me. I like the dry, bitter aftertaste, but I don't know if I love it after such a hearty malt opening. I think most beer junkies would consider it the best beer I had all night, but I'd probably rather have the Herkimer Kellerbier.
Morals: Don't go to Moto-i expecting red carpet treatment. Don't go to the Herkimer expecting taste bud warfare. Don't go to Bryant Lake Bowl expecting precice beer identification. Go there, have a few decent, uncommon beers, relax, relax, and tip your waitress.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Surly Mild
Had this on tap at the Blue Nile Saturday afternoon, the bridge between a weekend binge cleaning session and an extended family birthday gathering at the Mall of America. If you ask me, a beer or two is the least you can do to prepare for the megamall, as they say. Actually, it's probably not enough.
This was the first mild I'd had, though I can't quite be sure, because the style, from what I've gathered, is varied and the flavors many. I may have just broken an English language comma rule in that sentence. Anyway, this type of mild, the English Dark Mild variety, according to beeradvocate, is a British session beer characterized by low hops and low alcohol content. Well, if those are the conditions, Surly Mild qualifies.
To be fair, I dove into this one just after my first taste of a Surly Three, the third anniversary offering from the brewery. Three is classified as a braggot, brewed with 50% honey and 50% Munich malt, and let me be the whateverth person to say that the flavor is potent and delicious. In comparison, Surly Mild didn't stand much of a chance.
Maybe it was too early in the day (4:30ish), or maybe I was a bit too sick (stuffy nose), but I didn't get much aroma at all. Mild indeed. There certainly weren't a great deal of hops to wet my lips.
As for the taste, well, I can't much compare it to any other beer I've had, as it was markedly different. As a beer with 4.2% ABV, it lacked punch, but there was more taste than your average mass appeal 4.2% lager or ale. This is the part of the review where I'm reaching. I don't yet know enough about specific malts or how they taste, but what taste there was, I would surmise was due to the malts used. Al, when you read this, you can correct me. I got a very earthy vibe, not just the grassy hop flavor I get from many Euro beers, but soil and mineral flavors that give it a bit of depth without density.
Did I love this beer? No, certainly not. It's an easy drink, much easier than the palate-challenging beers we all love so dearly. And it doesn't make your face cringe like many low content beers would. It just doesn't have much to write home about. It's a bit plain.
So why does Surly make a beer like this? None of Surly's beers are mass appeal beers, I would argue, so they don't need to worry about pleasing a large sect of people. Mild isn't canned, and thus is available only to those diehards who seek it out. It certainly isn't a beer that would blow the diehards away. And frankly, it's not a beer I see the talented brewers at Surly finding enjoyment in pint after pint. I have one of these and think, OK, now I'd like to have any other Surly beer I've ever had.
Maybe it was a failed attempt. Maybe they wanted to show the Surly fans that they could make a simple, subtle beer. Certainly, not every beer a brewer tries can be better than the previous. And Surly has sort of dug their own grave on this one: why shouldn't a brewery be entitled to a couple duds? Mild isn't even a dud, but by their standards, it's pretty pedestrian. That doesn't change the fact that they've given us more than a handful of amazing beers.
Even so, there's a chance that Mild is a complete success. It's hard to imagine a beer more tightly fitting the name. I couldn't think of a better word for it, and by that standard, Surly Mild is a raging success.
This was the first mild I'd had, though I can't quite be sure, because the style, from what I've gathered, is varied and the flavors many. I may have just broken an English language comma rule in that sentence. Anyway, this type of mild, the English Dark Mild variety, according to beeradvocate, is a British session beer characterized by low hops and low alcohol content. Well, if those are the conditions, Surly Mild qualifies.
To be fair, I dove into this one just after my first taste of a Surly Three, the third anniversary offering from the brewery. Three is classified as a braggot, brewed with 50% honey and 50% Munich malt, and let me be the whateverth person to say that the flavor is potent and delicious. In comparison, Surly Mild didn't stand much of a chance.
Maybe it was too early in the day (4:30ish), or maybe I was a bit too sick (stuffy nose), but I didn't get much aroma at all. Mild indeed. There certainly weren't a great deal of hops to wet my lips.
As for the taste, well, I can't much compare it to any other beer I've had, as it was markedly different. As a beer with 4.2% ABV, it lacked punch, but there was more taste than your average mass appeal 4.2% lager or ale. This is the part of the review where I'm reaching. I don't yet know enough about specific malts or how they taste, but what taste there was, I would surmise was due to the malts used. Al, when you read this, you can correct me. I got a very earthy vibe, not just the grassy hop flavor I get from many Euro beers, but soil and mineral flavors that give it a bit of depth without density.
Did I love this beer? No, certainly not. It's an easy drink, much easier than the palate-challenging beers we all love so dearly. And it doesn't make your face cringe like many low content beers would. It just doesn't have much to write home about. It's a bit plain.
So why does Surly make a beer like this? None of Surly's beers are mass appeal beers, I would argue, so they don't need to worry about pleasing a large sect of people. Mild isn't canned, and thus is available only to those diehards who seek it out. It certainly isn't a beer that would blow the diehards away. And frankly, it's not a beer I see the talented brewers at Surly finding enjoyment in pint after pint. I have one of these and think, OK, now I'd like to have any other Surly beer I've ever had.
Maybe it was a failed attempt. Maybe they wanted to show the Surly fans that they could make a simple, subtle beer. Certainly, not every beer a brewer tries can be better than the previous. And Surly has sort of dug their own grave on this one: why shouldn't a brewery be entitled to a couple duds? Mild isn't even a dud, but by their standards, it's pretty pedestrian. That doesn't change the fact that they've given us more than a handful of amazing beers.
Even so, there's a chance that Mild is a complete success. It's hard to imagine a beer more tightly fitting the name. I couldn't think of a better word for it, and by that standard, Surly Mild is a raging success.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Beers of the Year: 3. Surly Furious
Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, MinnesotaStyle: India Pale Ale
ABV: 6%
Rating: 5 stars
Hard to knock anything about this beer. This one really put Surly on the map a couple years back, when it was hard to find. Now that it's available at most decent liquor stores and on tap in many bars, I feel like sometimes I take for granted just how good it is.
The color, for one, is unsurpassed. A delicious deep amber; close to red but with that rusty orange shine that almost certainly means good things are to come. Really nice head, and one that clings and stays as the glass empties. And of course, it has that Surly dry-hopped smell.
The brewers say that the key to this beer is the Golden Promise malt, a delicately cared-for barley from Scotland that gives this beer such intense hops. I guess I can't disagree there. The hops come from somewhere anyway.
Furious has the perfect blend of bright citrus burst, dry sticky mouthfeel and bitter pine swallow. There isn't any residual spoon left behind here. It's smooth. This in fact may be my favorite beer, but its availability taints its brilliance just slightly. For the price, though, it can't be beat. If I was dropped in a store with all the beer in the world and told I could spend my last $10 on any one six-pack (or four-pack in this case), I would immediately go for Surly Furious.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Skunk List: 6. Northern Premium Light
Brewery: Cold Spring Brewery, Cold Spring, MinnesotaStyle: Pilsner
ABV: ??
Rating: .5 star
Looking back, this could easily be ranked the worst beer of the year, but as a low-carb light beer, that's predictable. So putting it at the top of the list would be boring. That said, Northern Premium Light was notably worse than even the worst beastly lights out there.
At its original time of rating, I called it "the most tasteless beer to date." That was in August, and if my memory serves me correctly, I would still describe it that way. In fact, the brewer's website describes it this way: "This beer is a lightly hopped beer with low body and a pale golden color." Lightly hopped? Low body? Pale golden color? Not exactly the best PR work here. And no, you can't buy a single bottle of this beer, though I've paid more for an individual bottle many times than I had to pay for an entire case of this. There's your sign.
Unfortunately, I had to offer this swill to my father-in-law after an evening of manly labor, something I was admittedly embarrassed doing. When I asked him what he thought of it, he said, "It's cold." That's really the best you can do. There are, as in the case of Harbin, plenty of drinkers out there that can do a much more eloquent job of describing these beers, and I strongly encourage you to read a sampling of them at ratebeer.com. Since this is a year-end recap, I don't have all the flavors fresh in my mind, so I have to rely on my initial notes and hazy memory. In this instance, I was as terse as possible in my original rating. So again, I'll let the raters take over.
heemer77: "Wow, this pours out of the can with a pale yellow that is not even straw. It’s like looking in a trough at a stadium and seeing the water washing away the urine. White scum of a head on top. The aroma is light vomit and corn flakes. There is also some petroleum based aroma, like motor oil. The taste is light corn flakes with a metallic finish."
jpm30: "Strange, unappealing nose, even for a light beer, that apple juice scent that so many Gluek beers have, corn syrup, metallic fusel alcohol. Active carbonation without the light body, more medium, watery feeling. Unpleasant taste, weak, watery sour apple juice, the thinnest of sweet pale malts, hints of boiled sweet corn, used up, tasteless hops, finishes with a big taste of metal. There is also an artificial sweetener twang in the aftertaste, making you want to wash your mouth out."
asedzie: "Aroma is rotting compost and a little bit of cigarette smoke. Flavor is light diacetyl with rotten vegetables. Watery palate. Putrid. Can’t think of any redeeming qualities to this beer."
Saturday, November 15, 2008
SurlyFest
Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, MinnesotaStyle: Rye Beer
ABV: 5.5%
Rating: 4 Stars
This is a first in a series of fall beer dissection. The fall beer season, like the real season, is quite short, and the Oktoberfests and Harvests are quickly giving way to Winter Ales and Holiday brews. I initially thought I'd combine them all into one mega-posting in a sort of report card style. I gave grades and everything. However, the practicality of that quickly evaporated when I realized who was at the computer controlls. I'll do them one at a time. Anyway, about the beer.
A very Surly take on an Oktoberfest. Really, there isn't much of a link between this beer and any other Oktoberfest I've tried. From the cracking of the can, it smells like a Surly--wild hops, and this one's got a spicy rye scent with a bit more malty backbone than the other lighter Surly options.
So how to describe this beer to someone unfamiliar with the Surly scent without using beer jargon. Well, I guess that's something I'll have to work on. Actually, I don't really even know what jargon I'd use here, other than restating that I wouldn't mistake the instant hoppiness for any other brewer. It's certainly not a deep, heavy beer you might associate with fall. It pours a deep orange-red with a obvious presence of carbonation. You don't see a glass of this and think you're in for a throat-coating. You know it's going down less sticky than some of its fall counterparts.
I guess I can admit this; I would have no idea this was considered a rye beer without doing some recon work. Surly is sneaky--they mess around with established styles, but dance far off the floor. This is not an Oktoberfest, and any message board-poster who says it's "a nice and interesting take on the style" is just lying. (I realize I said precisely that just two paragraphs ago. I'm trying to cut back on message board reading.) It smells, tastes and fills your stomach not like a fall beer, but like a summer poolside one. I'm not sure Surly can do it any other way other than to escalate to a fully-fledged stout. I can't complain, because it's that Surly smell I love. Thinking about the smell makes me want one.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Flat Earth Extra Medium
Brewery: Flat Earth, St. Paul, MinnesotaStyle: American Wild Ale
ABV: 5.2%
Rating: 4 Stars
So, what exactly is an American Wild Ale, or Sour Ale? I'm not real sure myself, since this was the first one I've ever had. Found it on tap at Buster's on 28th in South Minneapolis, and after having it was so intrigued that I had to research the style and this specific offering. Turns out the information is fairly limited, and unfortunately, pretty jargony.
An American Wild Ale is beer that uses one of three types of wild yeast or bacteria. The style became popular when American brewers tried to recreate traditional Belgian brews called Lambics. Lambics were spontaneously fermented by wild yeast that was only available in a certain region of the country. The result was an unmistakable taste: dry, fruity and very acidic.
This beer fits the bill. The nose (I'll use a wine term because the smell was so...winey) was similar to a sharp, sour cherry cider. Only, the cider has been hiding behind the baking soda in your fridge for a few years. It smells like rank, fermented cider, which is not far off from what it actually is: rank, fermented beer.
The taste, however, was quite pleasant. It sparkled like ginger ale, soured the mouth like a crab apple and filled the mouth with a handful of fruity flavors. If you didn't know it was beer, and it was your first sour ale experience, you might think it was cider, if not for the faint malt presence toward the end of the swallow. The description at Buster's also mentioned a small whiskey presence, and though I wouldn't have noticed it without the forewarning, it was a nice contrast at the back end of the gulp.
The Buster's bio also claimed this beer, of which Flat Earth brewed only three barrels, had a "slight inner city funk" to it. There was definitely funk, but I thought that could be attributed to the wild bacteria. Just me.
If the purpose of this project is to discover and sample every different style of beer available, this was a good step. It's a big leap for a so-called beer lover to admit that fruit has a place in beerdom, and I had been hesitant to accept the large amount of highly-rated lambics on beer message boards. This tasting will help. It may not be the best American Wild Ale out there, and I'm certainly not the one to decide, but it's good enough to make me want to try more.
An American Wild Ale is beer that uses one of three types of wild yeast or bacteria. The style became popular when American brewers tried to recreate traditional Belgian brews called Lambics. Lambics were spontaneously fermented by wild yeast that was only available in a certain region of the country. The result was an unmistakable taste: dry, fruity and very acidic.
This beer fits the bill. The nose (I'll use a wine term because the smell was so...winey) was similar to a sharp, sour cherry cider. Only, the cider has been hiding behind the baking soda in your fridge for a few years. It smells like rank, fermented cider, which is not far off from what it actually is: rank, fermented beer.
The taste, however, was quite pleasant. It sparkled like ginger ale, soured the mouth like a crab apple and filled the mouth with a handful of fruity flavors. If you didn't know it was beer, and it was your first sour ale experience, you might think it was cider, if not for the faint malt presence toward the end of the swallow. The description at Buster's also mentioned a small whiskey presence, and though I wouldn't have noticed it without the forewarning, it was a nice contrast at the back end of the gulp.
The Buster's bio also claimed this beer, of which Flat Earth brewed only three barrels, had a "slight inner city funk" to it. There was definitely funk, but I thought that could be attributed to the wild bacteria. Just me.
If the purpose of this project is to discover and sample every different style of beer available, this was a good step. It's a big leap for a so-called beer lover to admit that fruit has a place in beerdom, and I had been hesitant to accept the large amount of highly-rated lambics on beer message boards. This tasting will help. It may not be the best American Wild Ale out there, and I'm certainly not the one to decide, but it's good enough to make me want to try more.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Surly Darkness
Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, Minnesota Style: Russian Imperial Stout
ABV: 10.3%
Rating: 4.5 Stars
This is the big one. The beer that launched Surly's popularity. Currently ranked 6th on RateBeer's world list. By popular ratings standards, this is the best beer I've ever had.
On Surly's D-Day (stolen from history textbooks), a few of these bottles were distributed, but I wasn't lucky enough to get one. Plus, though I'd like to, I couldn't rationalize spending $100 on a six pack anyway. Luckily, Darkness is more commonly found on tap at bars in the Twin Cities, and The Blue Nile was my ticket.
It's not hard to find Imperial Stouts these days, and Darkness has similarities to many of them--pitch black color (the name isn't tongue-in-cheek), heavy molasses and burnt caramel smells. You see a glass of this stuff and you've pretty much mapped out your next hour. It's a nightcap.
Unlike most stouts, though, Darkness is incredibly drinkable. Almost guzzleable, and dangerously so. If you allowed yourself to, you could pound out a few of these in a three-hour bender, and pay for it in the morning. It's scary good. Darkness doesn't burn your stomach as much as warm it, and the coating of your entire mouth is heavenly. Now, I'm not the biggest Imperial Stout guy in the world, but it's tough to quibble with anything about Darkness. An incredible accomplishment.
Surly Smoke
Brewery: Surly, Brooklyn Center, MinnesotaStyle: Oak Aged Smoked Baltic Porter
ABV: 9.45%
Rating: 4 Stars
The waitress at the Blue Nile offered us samples of this limited release--the barrel was getting down to the bottom. Had to accept, this one doesn't get bottled and is rarely found in bars.
I'd never had a smoked beer before, let alone one aged in barrels, so this was new territory for me. Kristie, my beer-hating wife, got a sample too, and her off-the-top-of-her-head thoughts are more eloquent than mine: "Smells like you took a glass of Guinness and you lit it on fire, then you licked out the dregs of the ashy glass."
Indeed, it tastes smoky. No carbonation at all in this one, and it had a very nice thin mouthfeel, unlike the Darkness, which I had later. OK, I promised I wouldn't use jargon, but I enjoy the word mouthfeel. Probably doesn't exist in regular conversation. The smoke flavor pretty much overpowers all other flavors, but I thought it was quite sweet in general. I would never had guessed it was 9.5% alcohol, and knowing that now explains why I felt the way I did afterward.
It's probably too late to get your hands on this one, but come next fall, find a beer festival somewhere in the Midwest and chances are Surly will be back with it. It's a unique and enjoyable beer.
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