Having run a beer blog for about six months now, I’ve been regularly surprised (and in some cases shocked) at the various search terms people are using to find my little corner of the Web. Based on that, I’ve decided to take a moment to address some of the more pressing questions and issues that apparently are floating around out there in the beer world.
1. “Two Hearted Fish” or “Two Hearted Ale Fish”
Collectively, I’ve received hundreds of hits based on these search terms. Everyone wants to know what the hell fish is depicted on the label of Bell’s Two Hearted Ale. And based on my amateur zoological opinion and salmon fishing experience, it’s definitely a rainbow trout. But to be more specific, I think the name of the beer is actually an homage to “Big Two-Hearted River”, an Ernest Hemingway story that chronicles the main character’s efforts to cope with post-traumatic stress disorder after World War I by traveling to the Big Two-Hearted River in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to go trout fishing and commune with nature. It’s either that, or the folks at Michigan-based Bell’s just really enjoy fly fishing on the river.
2. “Surly Darkness”
Far and away the number one hit-getter on my site. Everyone seems to want to know when Darkess is coming out (presumably around Halloween again, but distribution channels are up in the air given the stupid new state production laws) or how to make a clone recipe. Not exactly sure on the clone, but I do know they use eight different malt varieties with a load of hops to balance it out. I think it’s safe to say there’s a fair amount of black patent and high Lovibond Crystal in there.
3. “Unibroue Pronunciation”
Yeah, I’m not exactly sure on how to say it either. I always go with “uni-brow” or sometimes “uni-bro” but that might not be accurate. I also get alot of people wondering about pronunciation of La Fin du Monde (coincidentally made by Unibroue). I took a couple years of French class in high school, so you’d think I would know. But I didn’t pay very good attention because I generally spent most of my junior year gawking at my very attractive 21-year-old student teacher from the U of M.
4. ”Captain’s Chair”
Pretty obvious why search engines bring people to my site based on this term. But it’s frightening to me how many people are really interested in buying a life-size replica of Captain Kirk’s chair from the set of Star Trek. My site is not, and never will be, a place to find information about the Starship Enterprise, United Federation of Planets, or why Klingons looked different during the original 1960′s show compared to the subsequent films and TV series. Shit…I should just erase those words lest I get a ton of weirdo Trekkies frequenting my site now.
5. “Calories in Hop Slam”
Another Bell’s search term. Considering I haven’t even reviewed this beer yet, I find it intriguing that people get to my site trying to find info on it. I googled the term and couldn’t really find much on the caloric content either, but did happen across this site that I may never look at again for fear that I’ll start thinking about the number of calories I’m putting in my body every time I sit down to enjoy a few craft brews. Based on the list on that site, I’d put Hop Slam in the 275-300 calorie neighborhood. I don’t even want to know about DFH 120.
6. “Best Macro Beer”
I laugh every time I see this one. I envision some guy sitting at his computer, seriously contemplating how he’s going to spend the $8 he has burning a hole in his pocket for a 12-pack of fine American pilsner.
And finally, some one-off odd terms from along the way:
Maybe it’s because I’m a closeted metal freak. Been to four Pantera shows (which might qualify me as legally insane in some states). Combine that with my love of fermented barley, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a cool music video. Enjoy.
Another gorgeous winter day in the Twin Cities. Temps in the mid 30′s with not a cloud in the sky. For me, that means brewing in the garage. Gotta take advantage of these kinds of days when I can, as they’re few and far between.
In preparation, I spent a couple hours yesterday pouring over recipe websites, flipping through homebrew books, and generally trying to figure out what in the heck I wanted to brew. I have a pretty decent variety of homebrew in stock at the moment, and wasn’t really feeling like making yet another stout or your run-of-the-mill IPA. I really kind of wanted to do something different, a beer that didn’t necessarily adhere to any particular style. Something that promised to be unique, memorable and of course very tasty.
I called up my buddy Sam Calagione at Dogfish Head, and asked him if he had any ideas for me. Well, actually, when I say I called up Sam, what I mean is that I opened up his book “Extreme Brewing”, flipped to the recipe section, and found a very interesting one for a Port Barrel-Aged Belgian Brown Ale. I’m a sucker for any kind of beer that’s barrel-aged, whether it’s in bourbon, port, or scotch casks (e.g. my J.W. Lees Harvest Ale collection). So this recipe really jumped out at me, offering a unique challenge that hopefully will result in an enjoyable beer.
Here’s what I’m using for the fermentables and hops:
1.5 lbs Carapils (steeped)
6.6 lbs LME (boil at 60 min)
1 lb dark Belgian candi sugar (boil at 60 min)
1.5 oz Kent Goldings (boil at 60 min)
0.5 oz Saaz (boil at 20 min)
8 oz molasses (boil at 10 min)
I’ll use Wyeast 1388 Belgian Strong Ale yeast strain for the primary fermentation, and after I transfer to secondary will give it a shot of Wyeast 5335 Lactobacillus yeast strain to provide a sour, almost acidic quality common in most lambics and guezes. Kind of a departure from your standard brown ale, but what else would you expect from Sam Calagione?
Now here’s the best part. While primary fermentation takes place, I’ll marinate a quarter pound of medium roast American oak chips in a red tawny port wine, and then pitch them into secondary to give the beer that distinctive barrel-aged characteristic. I can already smell the rich, oaky goodness.
Should be a nice beer. I know at the very least I’ll have fun making it.
Dear readers, I sit before you a very grateful man.
Since I’ve gotten interested in craft beer and familiarized myself with the more hard-to-find offerings out there, one name has consistently popped up amongst the beer geek circles as the most desirable and treasured of them all. I’m talking Westvleteren.
Well, through a stroke of luck and good timing, I am now the proud owner of Westvleteren 12 (quadrupel) and 8 (dubbel). Two of the most rare and sought after beers in the world, thanks in large part to its extraordinarily limited distribution…as in you can’t get it unless you literally call the monks at St. Sixtus ahead of time to make an appointment, drive to their monastery in rural West Flanders, Belgium, and after the proper credentials have been verified humbly take your ration of two cases allotted to each person only once per month.
As you may have guessed, “Westy” has earned a mystique and lore arguably unmatched by any other beer on the face of the Earth. It’s been the #1 ranked beer in the world according to Beer Advocate for countless years running. The Wall Street Journal did a piece on the monastery in 2007, noting that the monks of St. Sixtus still use the same recipe they’ve kept quietly to themselves since the 1830′s. St. Sixtus is the smallest of the seven Trappist beer-producing monasteries, and unlike the others, all of the brewing is solely managed by the monks themselves. They do have a handful of secular employees, but only for bottling and other manual labor. And they don’t look to turn a profit, either. From our friend Wikipedia:
“Whilst the brewery is a business by definition (its purpose is to make money), it does not exist for pure profit motives, and they do no advertising except for a small sign outside the abbey which indicates the daily availability of each beer. The monks have repeatedly stated that they only brew enough beer to run the monastery, and will make no more than they need to sell, regardless of demand. During World War II, the brewery stopped supplying wholesalers and since then they only sell to individual buyers in person at the brewery or the visitor’s centre opposite. These methods all go against modern business methods, however as stated by the Father Abbott on the opening of the new brewery, ‘We are no brewers. We are monks. We brew beer to be able to afford being monks.’”
Frankly, I can’t think of a higher calling than that.
So how did I come by said beers? Well, a very generous local Twin Cities beer afficionado agreed to a nice little trade for a handful of hard-to-find offerings that I had in my cellar. While my stock was noticeably depleted from the transaction, I think we both walked away feeling like we got a pretty fair deal. He even threw in a bottle of Troeg’s Nugget Nectar and their Scratch Beer 16. Incredibly nice.
Not sure when I’ll review these. I may just stare at them in awe for the next couple years while they mature.
I felt a little like we crashed the study party when a handful of us walked into Acadia Cafe on the West Bank of the U of M campus last night for our inaugural First Tuesday Beer Club meeting. Undergrads seated around pub tables with open books spread about, quiet conversations about the day’s lecture. A relaxed and scholarly environment mixed with the faint smell of hops and quality craft beer.
Calling our rendezvous a “meeting” might be a little formal. The small group was really a spin-off from a larger wine tasting circle, consisting of seven guys who realized that they all maybe enjoyed drinking and talking about beer slightly more than they do wine (maybe I’m just speaking for myself). After our last wine event, we decided to meet up at Acadia to test drive a few of their offerings, informally calling our gathering the First Tuesday Beer Club. But unlike the more rigid and structured wine events where scoring and extensive tabulations took place, we were just going to drink good quality craft beer and nod our heads in approval when we liked something. Maybe a few grunts mixed in for good measure.
We started the night with Surly Mild. I’d actually never seen this one on tap before, and was very eager to give it a shot. The menu described it as an English-style dark mild ale that resembled a malty version of iced tea. And that really wasn’t too far off. Given it was Surly, I was very surprised at just how little was really going on with this one. Barely noticeable aroma (save for the small hint of toffee), relatively nondescript taste, and thin mouthfeel. What immediately came to mind after taking a few sips of Mild was “session beer.” At 4.2% ABV, there’s no way anyone was going to have four or five or twelve of these and be in any danger of stumbling home. While this is probably a good stylistic example of a lighter English-style ale, it’s definitely the least favorite Surly offering I’ve had (Rating: C+).
The rest of the night went something like this:
Southern Tier Gemini Double IPA (far and away the crowd favorite – Rating: A-)
Rogue Yellow Snow IPA (so-so, pretty drinkable but compared to Gemini a little lower on the IPA scale – Rating: B)
Anchor Bock (very good…I’m not a big lager guy so I was pleasantly surprised – Rating: B+)
North Coast Old Rasputin (I’d had this in the bottle before, and was even more impressed with it on draught – Rating: A)
Saison Dupont Organic Farmhouse Ale (ick…something medicinal and uninviting about this one – Rating: C+)
Bell’s Sparkling Tripel 2007 (solid example of a Belgian tripel…yeasty up front with a nice, sweet finish – Rating: B+)
Bell’s Cherry Stout (enjoyable, nice way to cap off the night – Rating: B)
We each had our share, and ponied up the $8 per guy to settle the tab (seriously…I think they must have forgotten to put a couple pitchers on the bill). Next stop on the First Tuesday beer tour…The Muddy Pig. See everyone there.
While it seems New Belgium has been on the front end of the sustainability curve since 1999 when it began using wind power from its local utility to run its operations, a disgruntled former employee publicly balked at the brewery’s claims that its facilities are “100% wind-powered” since the company had been purchasing renewable energy credits for the right to claim its power was sourced from a wind farm (even though it technically wasn’t).
Now, anyone who understands the renewable energy or carbon trading markets knows how this works…the renewable energy credit is an environmental commodity purchased at a premium on the voluntary open market that in effect subsidizes the production of renewable energy. This renewable energy is then eventually fed into the energy grid at some point down the road. In this case, New Belgium’s electricity was likely sourced from a traditional fossil fuel burning power plant, but because they bought the credits, the pollution from the fossil fuels would be offset by the eventual production of carbon neutral wind power. At least, that’s the theory. This practice is relatively commonplace, accepted, and a key driver in the promotion and use of renewable energy technologies. But, it isn’t exactly the same thing as running your own wind farm.
New Belgium initially dismissed the former employee’s claims of greenwashing, but to its credit in 2007 took a step back and came clean (no pun intended) on its production and marketing practices, reexamining the accuracy and transparency of its green efforts. From the article:
“Looking forward from that incident, the company has laid out a number of sustainability ambitions. Among other things, New Belgium noted that packaging and transporting of raw materials, including barley, which is imported from faraway Wisconsin, account for nearly half of its overall footprint. As a result, Ms. Orgolini [New Belgium's sustainability director] said the company was investing in research to harvest local barley, and that it was opening a new packaging facility designed to reduce carbon emissions. The company also reported that it had partnered with the City of Fort Collins, Colorado State University and ‘other energy-focused companies’ in applying for a grant from the Department of Energy to fund a project aimed at reducing peak-load electricity demand.
Last Spring, the D.O.E. granted the city and its partners $6.3 million in funding toward that end, and New Belgium said it now plans to install $4 million in energy-saving technologies — ‘funded 50 percent in house, 25 percent by the D.O.E. and 25 percent by in-kind donations,’ according to the sustainability report. It is ‘our biggest single project,’ Ms. Orgolini said.”
So what’s the takeaway? I think as corporate America gets more settled on the green bandwagon and claims of greenwashing periodically arise, it seems even relatively smaller breweries aren’t immune from intensifying scrutiny. I think this story also demonstrates how advocates (or badvocates, in this case) can truly impact an organization’s reputation in the marketplace and spur change in business practices.
I guess if you’re going to market yourself as green and sustainable, you better truly walk the walk. Sounds like New Belgium is taking the right steps in that direction.
