As many times as I’ve been in to Minneapolis Town Hall to enjoy their fantastic Masala Mama IPA, I’ve never ventured beyond my safe zone to sample Masala’s distant cousin from southeast Asia, Mango Mama.
Usually when I hear fruit beer, I’m a little skeptical. I’ve been able to make some nice homebrews using fruit, like my raspberry imperial stout, but some commercial offerings I’ve had, such as Leinenkugel Berry Weiss or Sam Adams Cherry Wheat, hit the beer drinker in the face with what I can only assume are overdone extracts. Unnatural, typically overpowering, and often cloying. Mango Mama, however, lights the way for what a fruit beer should be.
From my understanding, they put out a keg of Mango Mama on draught each Monday, and when it’s gone it’s gone. So if you’re a weekend warrior, odds are you’re going to miss it. The website also lists it as one of Town Hall’s seasonals. Which begs the question why a mango-infused IPA is around during the tail end of winter. Maybe it’s a year-round offering and they haven’t updated the site yet. Regardless, I didn’t spend much time pondering the seasonal logic of the beer, as I was quickly transfixed by what could be one of the only IPA’s around worthy of giving Masala Mama a run for its money.
Poured with a beautiful amber coloring into a bowled glass featuring a big billowing head of tight bubbles. Very similar in the nose to Masala Mama with a burst of clean citrusy hops, followed up by a subtle hint of the mango. Enticing.
Tasting Mango Mama is a craft beer lover’s dream. I’m assuming the core recipe is the same as Masala Mama, except with this one they take it a step further and age the beer on a bed of mango fruit, helping to temper the bold hoppiness with some of the sweetness of the fruit. Very well done. No sticky hop resins or overly bitter notes. Just an extraordinarily drinkable and balanced beer that I’d venture to say may interest even the most ardent non-hoppy light beer drinker. I’m very impressed with their ability to retain much of the stylistic integrity of the IPA while augmenting it with a very unique ingredient.
So I’ve been a little lax on my frequency of beer reviews lately.
Part of it is the fact that I have a ton of my own homebrew on tap that I’ve been enjoying. I went through a real prolific period this last fall, and consequently have numerous cases laying around. The other factor is the mental paralysis that sets in every time I walk into my beer cellar and am confronted with the overwhelming number of commercial offerings I have at my disposal. It sounds counterintuitive, but I’ve slowly acquired so many great beers that I don’t know where to start sometimes. My wife has compared me to a Depression-era hoarder when it comes to my beer collection habits. Not sure what it is, but every time I hear about a new beer coming out, or happen upon one I haven’t tried before, my prefrontal cortex melts down and all reason escapes me. I just have to have it. Even if I don’t drink it for a couple years, I at least feel better knowing it’s in my rotation.
When Stone Sublimely Self-Righteous hit the market a while ago, I knew it was going to be one of those magical beers for me. We unfortunately aren’t privy to Stone in the Twin Cities (yet), so most of their stuff I’ve had has been thanks to a handful of my beer trading buddies on the coasts. However, our cheese loving neighbor to the east does get Stone, so on occasion I’ve taken a trip to Hudson to stock up on whatever I can find.
Sublimely Self-Righteous is actually a reincarnation of Stone’s 11th Anniversary Ale. They apparently liked this American strong ale so much when they initially brewed it, they decided to bring it back year-round. And I’m glad they did. It’s an elegant, yet surprisingly contradictory beer, all in one.
Pours with a very deep mahogany body and two finger khaki head. From first glance, one might assume aromas of rich caramel, possibly some chocolate. But Sublimely Self-Righteous hits you with a wallop of pure hoppiness, akin to a DIPA like Pliny the Elder. Huge floral notes, citrus and strong pine, possibly from Simcoe hops, with none of the anticipated roasted malt. I guarantee most folks, if blind-folded and asked to place the beer on smell alone, would never think they were drinking an ale that presented itself like this. A very interesting dichotomy.
Taste is even more perplexing. Again, the hoppy bitterness inundates the senses to the point where you start wondering if they simply added dark food coloring to a simple IPA brewed on straight 2-row. Decent carbonation and mouthfeel, yet really none of the maltiness. The 8.75% ABV does get in the way a bit, mixing with the hops to lend a somewhat astringent character in the finish.
As a homebrewer, I’m very impressed (and honestly a little curious) at how Stone pulled this one off. I enjoyed it, but could have been better if the hops were balanced with some sweetness. Then again, I might just be suffering from unmet expectations based on the initial appearance.
Tyranena Brewing out of Lake Mills, Wisconsin puts out some nice beers.
From what I can tell, they don’t get a very wide distribution in the Twin Cities compared to some other Wisconsin beers like say, oh, Miller Lite. But it’s around if you look. Of the three or four Tyranena offerings I’ve tried over the past few years, including Bitter Woman IPA and Rocky’s Revenge, they’ve all impressed me with their complexity and originality. Their Brewers Gone Wild Series takes this tradition one step further, giving us over-hopped, barrel-aged, imperialized beer hounds something to savor. And as part of the series, their Devil Made Me Do It! Coffee Imperial Oatmeal Porter didn’t disappoint.
According to Tyranena, 60% of the beer is brewed with coffee beans (although I swear it smells like cold-pressed) and then aged in bourbon barrels, while the remainder is simply brewed with coffee beans and normally conditioned. Bring the two together, and you get an expertly balanced porter that makes you glad that the Devil was so persuasive.
Poured into a snifter with a jet black body and very minimal head. A big and robust coffee aroma hits you right away, and if I had to compare, very reminiscent of Surly Coffee Bender. No real hops to speak of. Some chocolate notes and a beautiful roasted quality also come through. So far so good.
Taste is more of the roasted flavor and bittersweet chocolate. They certainly used some black patent malt, but not enough to give it a burnt, acidic quality like you get with some stouts. Heat from the 7.5% ABV does come through a bit, slightly accentuated as the subtle oaky bourbon flavor kicks in near the end. Finishes nicely with the help of the silky oatmeal to smooth out all the big flavors.
They say timing is everything. Which is why I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t make a good farmer. Because if I were, my family might never eat.
Last year about this time, I had the epiphany that “Hey, I’m a homebrewer. I buy a fair amount of hops throughout the year for my various recipes. Why don’t I save some money, become a little more sustainable in my brewing practices, and actually grow my own hops in the backyard?”
Good idea. But I was a little late to the game.
Midwest Supplies and Northern Brewer had already sold out of their allotment of hop rhizomes — the living root of a female hop vine (or bine, to be technical) – and weren’t accepting any more orders (I’m sure a result of the hop crisis that the industry was dealing with at the time). I wasn’t able to find anything else online, either. So instead of watching in anticipation as my crop of fragrant hop cones blossomed throughout the late summer months, I was stuck using commercially developed pellets at $3-4 per ounce. When you’re making something like a double IPA, it can get a little spendy rather quickly.
This time around, however, I wasn’t going to be shut out. I got my order in for three species — Cascade, Horizon and Fuggles – each variety offering different alpha acid profiles and aromatic characteristics that will give me some flexibility and choice in the various beers I make throughout the year. Now granted, I have no illusions that my three hop bushes are going to yield enough flowers to keep me brewing most of the year. A mature plant typically yields between one to two pounds of dried cones each year. And since I’ll likely be harvesting late summer or early fall, it’s going to be quite a while before I really get to use the cones for any recipes anyway. Even after I harvest, I’ll certainly still need to make primary use of hop pellets for bittering, as whole leaf hops usually have lower utilization rates compared to pellets, and are generally best used for dry hopping. But I’ll at least have a nice way to complement some of my recipes with a personally grown ingredient, which is my main motivation.
The rhizomes should arrive early May, just in time to hopefully get them into the ground once the soil thaws out and becomes workable. I have a sunny spot behind my garage that should work well for the viny bushes to climb, as they theoretically can grow as tall as 15-20 feet. I’ve read it can take the bush a year or two to really cement its root system before it takes off (especially in our short northern growing season), so I’m not expecting much out of this first year.
Should be a fun little experiment. I’ll provide ongoing updates and photos on the planting process and how the bushes are shaping up over the course of the next several months.
#Winteryspew be damned. No amount of snow and sleet was going to keep me from attending the annual Surly Dinner at the Happy Gnome in St. Paul Tuesday evening.
Despite the dire predictions of icy roads and certain death plaguing the afternoon rush hour, my wife and I actually got over to the pub with little to no difficulty. We met some good friends of ours, and chatted with Omar a bit before the dinner program began, highly anticipating what was to be a fantastically well-done dinner pairing some of the Twin Cities finest beers with the artful creations of head chef Matt Hinman. The menu was incredible, many of the ingredients locally sourced:
First Course Composition of vegetables with duck confit, red watercress, lemon vinaigrette, herb mix
Paired with Cynic
Second Course Fois gras soaked in bourbon and cured in smoked salts, brioche, grapefruit supremes, topped with honey and vanilla glazed pistachios and pumpkinseed oil
Paired with Smoke
Third Course Seared opah with celery root puree, roasted garlic-braised rainbow chard, passion fruit/pineapple reduction, mango and papaya relish
Paired with III (Three)
Fourth Course Rib eye on mascarpone risotto, roasted wild mushrooms, Minnesota ramp butter, and red wine demi glaze
Paired with Darkness
Fifth Course Flourless chocolate cake with coffee-creme glaze
Paired with Coffee Bender
Fois gras on brioche
To say the entire meal was extraordinary would be a phenomenal understatement. This being my first beer dinner, I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. Sure, I knew the beer was going to be excellent. It’s Surly, after all. And I’d heard good things about the fare at the Gnome. But how well would these two things complement each other? Well, perfectly, as it turns out. Wasn’t forced in the least. Like each course and Surly offering had been German-engineered to go together. The Smoke gently coaxed out the salty character of the fois gras. The hopped, sweet maltiness of Darkness created a perfect entree to the expertly grilled rib eye. And the Coffee Bender helped to cap off what could be the most potent and delectable chocolate cake I’ve ever enjoyed.
What I found even more enjoyable and interesting was the discussion of the beers inbetween each course with Omar and head brewer Todd Haug. Very educational to learn more about the ingredients, stylistic philosophies and thought processes that have gone into crafting each beer over the years.
We left a happy group of Surly loyalists (and newly made Happy Gnome fans), already looking forward to next year’s dinner.
Not that I’m into expending my focus and energy on this blog ripping American macro brewers (fish in a barrel), but this recent article from the Associated Press talking about Miller Lite’s competitive struggles in the light beer marketplace really irked me.
Their continued efforts to dupe the American consumer by stealing craft beer lingo for their own profiteering purposes is shameless. From the article:
“MillerCoors shared its new Miller Lite ad campaign with investors, saying it will focus on the brand’s taste to woo new consumers. One ad played for analysts touted the fact that brewers add hops to Miller Lite three times while it is being made. It also used a slogan familiar with its fans: ‘Great taste, less filling.’”
Three hop infusions? Hats off to you, Miller Lite. However, I seem to recall from grade school that 3 multiplied by zero still equaled zero. Give them credit for world-class supply chain and production processes to put out a consistent product day in and day out. But as far as flavor and discernable hop characteristics are concerned, they’ve yet to sell me.
I just wish 96% of the beer drinking public felt the same.
The inaugural First Tuesday Beer Club meeting last month at Acadia went so well, we decided to do it again.
For the March gathering, our ragtag ensemble of fellow craft beer appreciators descended upon the Muddy Pig in St. Paul, a great neighborhood watering hole that has been host to several of my more memorable drinking excursions of late.
Unlike the first go-round, I decided to take it a little easier considering I was 1) driving, and 2) had a busy work day ahead of me on Wednesday. So I kept it to a handful of craft beers, one local and a couple from the coasts. Here’s the rundown:
Lift Bridge Farm Girl Saison
I’ve been remiss in not trying this one yet, the flagship offering from our very own Lift Bridge Brewery in Stillwater (contract brewed by Flat Earth, I believe). For a Belgian saison, this one was very unique…at first blush I wasn’t sure if I’d mistakenly been served a tall glass of opaque orange juice, as it looked nothing like most other saisons I’ve had (or brewed myself). Tons of suspended yeast, almost like a hefeweizen. It smelled fantastic. Aggressively yeast-forward with a nice layering of cloves, light esters and a distinct horse blanket quality (did they use Brett?). Taste was bready and light, but not effervescent which I look forward to in this style. Carbonation a bit lacking, giving it a rather flat and watery mouthfeel. But overall, a pretty decent beer and one that I’d definitely try again. Look forward to some more offerings from these guys.
Rating: B+
Eel River Triple Exultation If Lift Bridge’s saison was my warm-up appetizer into the evening, tipping back a glass of Triple Exultation from Eel River in California was like skipping the main course and heading right for the dessert tray. Very nice amber coloring in the pour with only the slightest film of bubbles skimming the top of this Old Ale. A candy sweet aroma hits you right away, hinting at toffee, dark fruits and maybe even sherry. The taste was just like the nose, bordering on cloying in its malty, chewy sweetness. At nearly 10% ABV, it’s a hefty beer, and in combination with its nearly overpowering sugaryness, one that I was glad to share with a couple other friends at the table.
Rating: B-
Southern Tier Oak-Aged Cuvee Series Two Mmm…now this is a nice beer. My love of all things casked has been long documented (most recently with my brewing of the port barrel-aged Belgian Brown Ale), so when I saw Southern Tier’s Oak-Aged Cuvee Series Two on the beer list, I had to order. Served in a snifter with a beautiful ruby red coloring and thin, khaki head. The nose was pure oaky goodness with a nice interplay of vanilla and dark fruits. Not sure where they get their casks, but they certainly could have been bourbon barrels. Taste was fantastic, with more of the oaked flavoring permeating throughout. Really reminded me in a big way of Allagash Curieux, minus the Belgian qualities. Mouthfeel and drinkability were great. And I didn’t even mind the slight heat from the 11% ABV that started creeping up on the back of my throat with each small sip. I have a bottle of this in my beer cellar, and I’m very excited to try this in another year or two.
Couldn’t embed the video for some reason, but follow the link for a nice little piece from our local FOX affiliate on the growing demand for Surly. And watch out people…some of their beers are reported to come in between 5 and 10 percent ABV (!!!).
11 years since the doors opened. 999 batches brewed…equating to nearly 91 batches brewed per year. And from those 999 batches brewed by Minneapolis Town Hall over more than a decade, there’s been nearly 150 uniquely different beers that have been conjured from the creative minds of head brewer Mike Hoops and his crew (several of which are proud medal winners in the Great American Beer Festival).
Now, that may not seem like a big deal to some. But for anyone who’s ever been around brewing, commercially or at home, they’ll know that’s a hell of a lot of experimentation (and hard work). Talk about prolific. But god bless Town Hall for their dedication to fine brewing, for they came through once again with another fantastic beer to commemorate a very significant milestone…Batch 1000.
I stopped in recently to sample Town Hall’s Batch 1000, a super-hopped DIPA that uses five different varieties — Amarillo, Cascade, Centennial, Columbus and of course Simcoe – at a rate of 11 pounds per barrel. Not sure how that equates to IBUs, but I can tell you it’s mouth-puckeringly potent. My buddy Dirtyspeed from Friday Night Beer coincidentally was also at the bar for the tapping , so we sat down to compare notes on what we both agreed is a very fine beer.
Poured from the tap with a beautiful billowing head and ruddy orange coloring, giving way to a citrusy blast of lemons and floral grasses in the nose. The hops really come through. From the first sip, you’re assualted with a distinct hop bite that gently fades (but never disappears) into the background as you start to pick up some of the sweet malt backbone. Drinkability and mouthfeel are very good, masking the 8.5% ABV.
Dirtyspeed and I each had a couple samples, and were both very pleased with the effort. Here’s to another 1000 batches from the masters at Town Hall.
As many times as I’ve been in to Minneapolis Town Hall to enjoy their fantastic Masala Mama IPA, I’ve never ventured beyond my safe zone to sample Masala’s distant cousin from southeast Asia, Mango Mama.
