Hops can be a beautiful thing. Bitter, floral, and full of life. In fact, one of my greatest-ever fresh hop experiences took place one day on a golf course in St. Paul…at the turn I bought a hot dog and a Summit EPA on draught from a newly tapped keg. I took one sip, and the hops just exploded off the beer. I promptly threw away the uneaten dog, as there was no sense in confusing my palate. I wanted to completely enjoy the freshest tasting beer I had have ever come across.  

But we’ve all heard it before… 

“Nice IPA, but it’s been on the shelf for a few months and the hops have really faded.” 

I’ve certainly noticed this phenomenon in commercial beers, as well as my own home brew, and don’t doubt that many styles such as pale ales, IPAs and some lagers really do benefit from being enjoyed as freshly as possible to get that true hop bite and wonderful bouquet. On the flipside, other styles such as barleywines can benefit from aging to let the hops mellow out and fade into the malty background over time. 

But what’s the science behind it all? How much DO hops really fade over time? Does age have more impact on aroma, or does it also affect bitterness? At what point do hops start taking a noticeable nose dive…a couple weeks? a month? longer?

To try and find some answers, I first turned to Ken Grossman, founder of Sierra Nevada and one of the pioneers of the craft beer industry in this country. Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale is considered by most to be the protoypical hoppy American ale, a hop bomb in its day that helped define an entire category and pave the way for literally thousands of other American-style pale ales and IPAs over the past several decades. Starting in 2002, the brewery began growing nearly three acres of hops on its own grounds, primarily focused on Cascade and Chinook used exclusively in their Estate Ale series, with a more recent four acre addition in 2008 that has made room for some experimental varieties.

According to Grossman, hop degradation is a complex mix of variables, at an early stage determined by how the hop was grown and handled prior to brewing.

“We actually have been focusing on hop aroma analysis and hop chemistry for many years, and have devoted significant resources in this area,” Grossman said. “Just to name a few variables, the crop year and harvest maturity can have a great influence. If you are using dried hops – rather than fresh picked  – kilning methods and temperature will have some influence on aroma. Storage conditions after harvest will also change the aroma characteristics greatly. Some of the ‘noble’  aromas in European hops are thought to be from warm storage and oxidation directly after harvest, and some types of hops develop ‘cheesy’ off flavors if not stored cold.”

Once hops are used in the brewing process, a whole different set of complex variables come into play. The bittering and aromatic characteristics of hops come from resins in the hop flower, which are made up of alpha and beta acids. Different hop varieties have different levels of each acid, making some more desirable for bittering as the alpha acids are isomerized in the brew kettle, and others better for lending a floral nose thanks to the beta acids left behind after boiling. 

“From addition times in the kettle, dry hopping, loss of oils from different fermentation temperatures,  and fermenter design, the list of variables impacting aroma and bitterness goes on and on,” said Grossman. “But in a nutshell fresh hops are better in our opinion, if you are looking for lots of clean robust aroma.”

Tom Nielsen, Sierra Nevada’s senior research analyst focused on hop degradation, says that their research has shown that after about two and a half to three months, hop aroma in a packaged beer, derived mainly from beta acids in the hop flower, has already started to diminish significantly. It’s a sentiment backed by Patrick Langlois at Great Divide in Denver, brewers of notable hoppy beers including their Fresh Hop Pale Ale, Titan IPA, and Hercules Double IPA. “Hops tend to dissipate in three to four months, which is why that is the recommended shelf life for most of our beers.” 

According to Nielsen, agitation during shipping can be a significant contributing factor to degradation in aroma. As a beer sits on delivery trucks and eventually finds it way to your local liquor store, the beer’s aromas can be kicked up through the head space and slowly forced out of the crown liner, a process Sierra Nevada refers to as scalping. Nielsen also says oxygen will destroy hop aroma very quickly, whether naturally over time, or through the bottling process.

“We’ve found the hop aroma of a fresh beer shipped overnight from Boston compared to the same beer that just sat here  in Chico was very much reduced,” said Nielsen.  “This degradation doesn’t noticeably impact bitterness. But since aroma plays a significant role in your perception of taste, it can greatly influence your overall enjoyment of the beer.”

Gerri Kustelski, director of quality assurance at Summit Brewing in St. Paul, agrees.

“Organoleptically, there may well be discernable changes,” Kustelski said. “Bitterness can be masked by oxidation and aging, and aroma even more so.  You begin to slowly lose the aroma imparted by dry hopping fairly quickly, possibly within several weeks.  Packaging and distribution processes including shipping and temperature control can affect the flavor stability of beer and, thus, affect the perception of hop aromas and bitterness.” 

The relative levels of alpha and beta acid compounds in a packaged beer also lends perspective to how sensitive and fragile hops can be.

“Aroma compounds are typically measured in parts per billion, compared to bittering compounds which are evaluated in parts per million,” Nielsen said. “If you lose half of your aroma compounds through agitation in shipping, that’s a much more dramatic degradation compared to bitterness. When you’re talking about aging a beer for many years, like our BigFoot Barleywine, the bitterness will eventually fade and change character, but generally speaking aroma is the first component to quickly fall out.”

Once the beer does arrive at your local bottle store or watering hole, some retailers take extra steps to ensure their beer loving customers are able to enjoy the product as closely as possible to how the brewer intended it.

“We certainly do take extra steps to make sure the beer you buy is as good as it can be,” said Jason Alvey, owner of The Four Firkins in St. Louis Park. “We keep the store as cold as we can so even the beer that is not refrigerated is nice and cool. We eliminate sunlight and filter all our lights for U.V. which can of course create a chemical reaction with the hop acids and skunk the beer. But by far the one thing that has the biggest effect is product turnover. We do not have beer that sits around on our shelves for months and months, so the beer you buy from us is as fresh as it can be. Unless of course you are buying a vintage beer that has been carefully aged in one of our climate controlled cellar fridges!”

The bottom line: if you’re interested in getting that full-on, hoppy experience in both aroma and flavor, heed the advice of many hop heads out there. Fresh really is best.

As we cracked the growler of Russian River’s fabled Pliny the Younger, I looked out the window, anxiously awaiting celestial white angels riding majestic unicorns to descend from the skies, carrying lightning bolts of peace and healing designed to rid the world of all war and disease.

At least, that’s what you’d expect reading the gushing reviews on Beer Advocate, which were of course devoid of any hype or preconceived notions (as ALL the highly rare beers on BA’s top ranked list have surely been rated). I fully anticipated nothing short of a life altering experience as soon as the beer hit my lips…nay, as soon as I entered the room and came into the shimmering aura of said growler. This was Pliny the Younger, after all, the beer that within two weeks of its broad release straight from the brewery somehow magically overtook (albeit temporarily) the indominitable Westvleteren 12 as Beer Advocate’s number one beer on planet earth. The holiest of holies. And somehow, through mysterious methods of fermentation, Russian River had found a way to bottle miracles. Real miracles, people.

After disappointedly spotting only a few stray clouds streaking the winter sky, I turned my attention to my friend Ryan who had graciously invited me and several others to his home for a small tasting of the chimerical beer, procured during his trip to San Francisco Beer Week in February. 

Younger had clearly held up well in the growler, as my friend poured the first glass with a building head of carbonation that quickly dissipated. Very nice deep gold coloring, with some haze likely from the four dry hop additions the beer goes through. The aroma is full on hops, with notes of onion and…bear with me…a slight catty smell. One of the more unique aromas I’ve ever gotten from a beer in this style category. Taste is intensely bitter, likely off the IBU chart. Not too sweet, with a dry, highly attenuated finish. Very full, prickly mouthfeel. 

Does this beer live up to the hype? I suppose. It’s a wonderful DIPA. But I tend to prefer Pliny the Elder, and in fact, some folks at the table thought other beers like Bell’s Hopslam were more enjoyable.

Rating: A-

Where I Got It: Through a friend’s trade 
Availability: Limited Release
Price: No idea

The first ever Beer Blogger Brew-Off is in the books, and a good time was had by all.

The quality of the beers brewed by the participants was incredible. It was clear these guys have spent many years perfecting their craft, and it was equally impressive how distinctly unique each beer was considering everyone changed only one ingredient from the base recipe we all used. Here’s what everyone went with:

My secret ingredient, which I didn’t really keep a closely guarded secret, was lactose, making my beer a nice milk stout. You can check out the recipe and brewday here. After my beer fermented out, I kegged half the batch for a New Year’s party, and split the rest off into a carboy for bottling at a later date. The beer from the keg was fantastic — chocolatey, roasty, and milky sweet. I would have had more than two glasses of it, but my friends had other ideas and decided to drink it all too quickly.

Here’s where the story gets grim…after bottling and shipping my beers to the brew-off participants, we settled in for the sampling, and it quickly became clear something was a little off when everyone cracked my bottles. A mildly sour aroma crept up on us, not completely off-putting (and in fact some friends have said they enjoy it) but not exactly what I was aiming for, either. The likely culprit? Bacteria from sanitation issues during the bottling process.

I’m a meticulous sanitizer…in most cases I think I probably overdo it (if that’s even possible). And I know this kind of thing can happen occasionally to the best of us. But frankly, it was a little embarrassing.

After sampling everyone’s beers, we informally declared local beer blogger Derek the brew-off winner with his molasses stout, a fantastically rich, full-bodied beer. Very well done. And I’m happy to say he left me with a sixer for my longer term enjoyment.

If you’re interested in hearing the entire brew-off discussion recorded by Peter at Simply Beer,  listen to the podcast here. Already looking forward to the next brew-off!

Thanks to New Glarus for bringing back their Cherry Stout, a past gold medal winner in the Wood and Barrel Aged Beer category at GABF, and the first in this year’s Unplugged Series.

Appearance is decidedly unstout-like. Fairly reddish coloring, not black or opaque as one might expect. Huge head on the pour, loads of rocky bubbles. Aroma is nearly identical to their Wisconsin Belgian Red with a bushel of  sour cherries, backed with a faint note of dark chocolate, maybe even a syrupy Coca-Cola quality. Flavor is impressive, a beautiful blend of the sour cherry with a building flavor of roasted, chocolate malt. Mouthfeel is solid.

Overall impression, there’s a great deal going on here. If you’re looking for a traditional example of a stout, this ain’t it. It’s better. 

Rating: A

Where I Bought It: Casanova Liquors
Availability: Limited Release
Price: $9.99 per four pack

Every couple years or so, Bell’s comes out with a commemorative beer to mark another 1,000 batches under their belt. Similar to Batch 7000 that was released back in 2005, which I’ve heard from various folks is drinking REALLY well at the moment, their recently released Batch 9000 is a massive imperial stout coming in at 12.5% ABV.   

Poured into a snifter with a deep brown coloring and a thin head that builds with time. Aroma is soy sauce, anise, dark fruits, and mild alcohol. Maybe even a DFH 120 kind of rich caramel quality going on. Taste is very sweet, borderline cloying, more than just about any imperial stout I’ve ever tried. Bittersweet in the middle, likely from the molasses they brew with, with a fair amount of alcohol heat in the finish. Mouthfeel is relatively thin for the style, I need some viscosity here, not what I’d expect for such a huge beer.

Overall impression? I felt blitzed halfway through the snifter, and overwhelmed by sweet malt, which given my predilection for other sweet imperial stouts like Darkness 2008 was surprising to me. But this beer really needs to lay down for a year or two and mellow out before it gets pleasantly drinkable, which is exactly what I’m doing with the rest of my bottles.

Rating: B

Where I Bought It: Zipp’s Liquors
Availability: Limited Release
Price: $16.99 per six pack

This year’s Winterfest, hosted by the Minnesota Craft Brewer’s Guild at the Minnesota History Center in St. Paul, was another success.

Thanks to lack of foresight and a busy work schedule at the time, I wasn’t able to score a ticket when they went on sale a few months ago. But thankfully my buddy Ryan had an extra to share, of which I was very appreciative. You inevitably bump into all kinds of familiar faces at these events, so it was also nice to chat with several of the brewers, Alvey from The Four Firkins, and fellow beer blogger friends like Shawn and Mike at The Beer Genome Project.

After learning that Flat Earth’s Grand Design Porter, a s’more-infused version of their Cygnus X-1, was the recipient of this year’s Snowshoe Award for best-in-show, I was pretty disappointed it wasn’t one of the beers I tried during the evening. But alas, despite my best efforts, it’s tough to sample them all.

My top beers from the evening:

Surly 1 – 4
Fine, call me a card-carrying Surly fanboy. Guilty as charged. I was at the front of the line at Darkness Day this year. I drove around town for hours trying to locate a four pack of their Hell when it was released in cans last summer. And I even clothe my three month old daughter in Surly onesies*. But objectively speaking, there’s no denying Surly’s line-up of anniversary beers were some of the most memorable of the night.

Surly Bourbon One was unreal, a bourbon barrel-aged doppelbock that was likely my favorite beer of the evening. Surly Two, an oak-aged cranberry stout, was tart and surprisingly refreshing. A version of Surly Three called Jesus Juice was a braggot aged in pinot noir barrels, as impressive as I remember from ABR. And the final beer, their soon-to-be-released Four, was a freeze distilled double espresso milk stout, predictably heavy on the coffee notes and pretty boozy.  

Schell’s Hopfenmalz
I really liked this beer, brewed to commemorate Schell’s 150th anniversary. Totally different than most of the complicated, fruit-infused stuff I was drinking at the event, but a very sessionable, hoppy amber lager that was a welcome change of pace. Thankfully, this is now readily available in bottles at your neighborhood craft beer store.

Minneapolis Town Hall Coconut Raspberry Festivus
This year’s Festivus, a mocha stout made with chocolate and coffee, is already an incredible beer. Add real coconut and raspberry, and you approach the divine. Sort of reminded me of their Three Hour Tour, a coconut milk stout, but the raspberry adds some nice fruity undertones. Very well done.

Fitger’s Blitzen Blueberry Chocolate Porter
Amazing offering. The Bayfield blueberries were incredibly pronounced, yet balanced with the rich chocolate notes of the beer. Like a dessert in a glass. 

And of course, the not so memorable:

Cold Spring John Henry 3 Lick Spiker Ale
Not sure if it was the fact this beer tasted more like a watery porter, or if the volunteers manning their table underwhelmed me with their clearly disinterested attitude. I guess I might be pissed too if someone woke me up. But either way, the beer was a pretty poor interpretation of a bourbon oak-aged imperial stout.

Lift Bridge Biscotti Float
Why mess with what’s already a really nice Belgian ale by adding a dollop of ice cream that had the consistency of pancake mix? Points for trying something a little different, but the flavors weren’t working for me. The ice cream seemed to somehow bring out the alcohol component a little too much, making it a boozy sundae.

*

The beginnings of the lambic I brewed about six months ago is starting to get footy as hell.

At the urging of Michael Agnew at A Perfect Pint, I’ve done my very best to just forget about the damn thing, leaving the microbial mish mash in the dark corner of my basement to slowly distort and turn into a cheesy, funky, and sour concoction.

A definite pellicle has formed on the surface of the beer, with some “ropiness” beginning to take effect, thin strands of bacteria colonies streaking their way through the beer likely from the pediococcus. A layer of dust coats the neck of the carboy, and a spider has also decided to form a nearby web, making this even more authentic based on my understanding that the cellaring rooms of traditional Belgian lambic brewers look something like the opening scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

I’m planning to make this a fruit lambic, and will give it until at least summer before I rack and spur on secondary fermentation. The fruit I’m leaning toward using is thimbleberry, a relatively little known (and not widely commercially available) fruit indigenous to Minnesota and parts of the upper Midwest, commonly found along the North Shore. I did locate someone in Michigan who sells the stuff in bulk, and may buy five or six pounds from her, if I’m not up for traipsing through the woods near Lake Superior in hopes of finding my own.

Thimbleberries are very similar to raspberries in shape and flavor, so I’m hoping the finished fruit lambic will come out tasting something like a framboise with some nice sour raspberry notes combined with the traditional lambic funkyness.

Once the beer is aging on fruit, it’ll likely be at least another year, if not longer, before I even consider bottling. Lambics are not for the impatient.

Belgian pales are a style that I don’t go out of my way to find, but when you get a good one, they’re very memorable. 

I stopped in to Town Hall recently for my usual growler of Masala Mama and was surprised to see their Enkel available on draught. After a quick quaff I decided to pick up a growler for home perusement.

Golden coloring on the pour, slightly hazy with yeast, and a moderately rocky head. Aroma is sublime, a well balanced, subtle blend of yeast, fruity esters of pear, and spice. Flavor is soft malt with biscuity notes in the background, a deceptively simple taste that surprises in its complexity. Great mouthfeel, very lively.  

I feel like I just described a saison. But overall, a wonderful beer and a great session choice at 5.2% ABV. Not sure I’ve ever had a beer from Town Hall that I haven’t enjoyed.

Rating: A-

Where I Bought It: Minneapolis Town Hall Brewery
Availability: Seasonal
Price: $13 per growler

First home brew review in quite a long time.

I brewed this berliner weisse back in early November, opting for a pretty straightforward grain bill of half pils and half wheat, an ounce of Tettnanger in the mash and a no-boil approach to minimize hop utilization (and thus hindering of bacteria development). I pitched lactobacillus delbrueckii up front, waited a day and pitched the brewer’s yeast. Primary went just fine, secondary was good, and I dosed with another shot of lactobacillus when I bottled several weeks later. Here’s the original recipe for anyone interested.  

So how’d my first attempt at a sour turn out?

Poured a very pale straw coloring, like weak lemonade. Copious carbonation and loads of spritz, like a champagne. Aroma is boldly lactic and sour, very nice and promising. Taste is immediately sour, but mildly so. Not as puckering as I would have hoped, which I attribute to lack of sugar in primary for the lactobacillus to consume (pitching the lacto 24 hours ahead of the yeast may not have been enough time, but I was concerned with pH levels). Soft wheat flavoring that leads to a smooth finish. The 2.5% ABV is obviously not a factor here. Mouthfeel is medium, with the sour and carb providing a nice prickly sensation.

Overall, not bad for my first attempt at the style (I know I did something right, because my wife who despises sour ales hates it), but not what I’d call a home run. Definitely very refreshing and I can see myself drinking lots of this on the patio this summer. I may experiment with a sour mash next time I brew this.

Rating: B

Sometimes I’ll read beer reviews, my own included, and realize that some of them are about three adjectives and a couple of choice nouns away from being mistaken as Penthouse Forum letters.

“Beautiful body, with legs for miles.”

“Seductive mouthfeel.”

“Intoxicating perfume, with a firm backbone that keeps you wanting more.”

Only thing missing is the handsome repairman coming to fix the bored housewife’s plumbing.

So instead of turning this into a Whitman-esque rendition of my thoughts on Three Floyd’s Rabbid Rabbit, I’ll just go ahead and call it one of the most unique American saisons I’ve tried in a long time.

I picked this one up on my Dark Lord Day excursion last year, since the brewery unfortunately does not distribute in Minnesota (yet), and have been cellaring it since. Poured with a golden coloring and dense head of carbonation, pretty lively and effervescent. Aroma is certainly fruity, and you do get some hops, but more than anything I was surprised that the beer truly smelled like graham crackers, which was very pleasing, a blend of cinnamon, nutmeg and other spices. Flavor was sweet, a soft mix of fruit and spice, without much of the 7.4% ABV coming through. Medium mouthfeel, with a sweet finish (not classically dry).

Overall, a really fun beer from a great brewery that stretches the style guidelines a bit.

Rating: B+

Where I Bought It: Three Floyd’s Brewery
Availability: Seasonal – released in March
Price: About $14 per 22 oz. bottle

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