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.

Blizzard Beer

Every morning, say 10 am, I tell myself, 'self, tonight is the night you skip the beer and just drink water.' It's only a few hours later that the frustrations of the daily grind on the job force me to cave into the dozens of beers that will be staring me in the face when I arrive at home.

I try, I really do, but I don't feel much guilt over having a drink or two every night; I've gotten more consistent in the last year--no weeknight binge drinking anymore. It's difficult on nights like tonight, when the Gophers lose a winnable road game and I spent two hours trudging through slow traffic and shoveling the heartiest, stickiest snowfall of the season.

And on that note, I wondered, what would be the perfect beer for a blizzard? The initial response, clearly, would be to nurse a deep, warming imperial stout. Something to burn the insides and satisfy the thirsty taste buds. I had several stout options, including Victory's Storm King and Bell's Expedition. But I wasn't in the mood for a stout. Perhaps because I tried my namesake Nils Oscar Imperial Stout Tuesday night and was disappointed. (The second Nils Oscar beer disappointment I've had with no successes). I decided a stout was not the perfect blizzard beer.

I fingered through the basement options: some Surlys, Tyranenas, New Glaruses; nothing that felt right for the moment. Finally, I settled on a mini vertical of Sierra Nevada Bigfoots. I picked up '07 and '08 bottles when I visited Dennis Brothers in Cottage Grove in early January, and had been saving them for no particular reason. A vertical tasting means comparing the same beer from different years to see how the flavors have developed over time. Not all beers should be tasted this way. Don't save your Bud Lights for years to see how the flavors mature. But for a complex, stiff beer such as the Bigfoot can stand up to a few years of aging.

This was the first time I'd had Bigfoot in a bottle; I first had it on tap at the Muddy Pig in early 2008, when I gave it 4.5 stars. I think my love of barleywines peaked in those winter months, because I remember thinking Southern Tier's BackBurner was the best beer I'd ever had, and when I tried it a few months later I thought my initial five-star rating was much too high.

With that said, it's hard to argue with a barleywine during a wintery blizzard. It's a full beer in the mouth, leaving bold flavors behind without completely drying you out, and giving you enough alcohol burn to move you in a promising direction. Most might argue, and I would agree, that it doesn't give you the swig-to-swig satisfaction that an imperial stout does, but the flavors are prominent enough to make it its own course.

As for this blizzard, the Bigfoot delivered. It had a more bitter finish than I remembered, but when I checked my original notes from March 11, 2008, I found: "Alcohol is present, but taste is dominated by bitter, bitter hops."

The 2008: Supremely rich, with as full of a mouthfeel as you're going to get from a beer. I doesn't disappear down your throat, it stays awhile. The taste is nutty, strong and creamy, but with just the right amount of offsetting crispness. The finish is, again, quite bitter and dry. Many people cite this beer as one to cellar and save for a few years, but I, after having this one, think I might find it hard to do so.

The 2007: In fact, better than the 2008. Which leads me to believe that the longer you let this one ride, the better. Has the thick caramel coating that the 2008 had, but the flavor lasts incredibly long. I ate half a raw tomato in between gulps of this one, and I still couldn't shake the massive flavor. The alcohol is more present in the '07, which I don't mind, as it burned my throat quite pleasantly on this most wintery night. The lacing (foam that sticks to the side of the glass) is pronounced. It was nearly crust by the time I finished the brew. Lacing adds another aspect to the enjoyability of a beer, as you get to see the progress you've made from swallow to swallow as you make your way down the glass. Just another reason why it's crucial that beer be consumed from a glass (the correct glass) and not its original container.

Barleywines, as I'm coming to realize, are a style of beer that I like while I'm drinking them, but in the hours after the tasting, the beer settles in, and I realize that they should be judged not only while they're being chugged, but for hours after. These Bigfoots eased the pain of knowing another shovel was on the Friday morning horizon. Maybe I'll make it a tradition: keep a couple Sierra Nevada Bigfoots in the basement, and when radar says 5+ inches of snow, have them at the ready.

Sierra Nevada Wet Hop Harvest Ale

Brewery: Sierra Nevada, Chico, California

Style: American IPA

ABV: 6.7%

Rating: 3 stars


A wet hop, or fresh hop, beer, is one made with hops that are never dried. They go straight from the plant to the pot in their fresh form. It's like getting a fresh, never frozen burger from Wendy's. Or maybe, in Sierra Nevada's case, like getting one from an In-N-Out Burger. A Wendy's fresh beef burger might be more like a Budweiser wet hop ale.

Well, the fresh hops come through. This batch of Harvest Ale is Sierra Nevada's 12th run, and they know what they're doing. The hops are big and sticky up front, with a delightful pine-ness. However, the back end of the swallow wasn't quite as pleasant. The piney flavors turn a bit brown, and the heavy end isn't what I was expecting. So this is an IPA with a backbone, they say. With some substance. Well I guess I like it beter without the substance. Just give me the wet hops.