Session beers are popular now, but a single drinking session rarely includes 250 different beers. The Big Brew NY Beer Festival returned to White Plains on Feb. 7 with hundreds of kegged and bottled beers, plus a VIP area with almost 30 casks of special ales. It's tough to write with a beer in one hand and camera in the other, but I managed to record a few notes and observations from what has become a very good midsize beer festival.
First: it may look crowded in a few of these photos, but the crowd was never an issue. Beer fest attendees tend to be pretty easy going. Most seem happy just to be in a place where they can simply stick out their glass and have it filled, and it's exciting to try new brands and styles without running the risk of taking your first sip and realizing you're now stuck with a six pack of beer you wouldn't use to poison driveway weeds.
Deep snow requires strong booze. Our ancestors knew it, we know it, and every year around the winter solstice we can see a certain class of beer made specifically for snow days start to take up shelf space. Barleywine is beer better served at 55º than 35º, and best enjoyed when it's 25º outside. It's usually sold in large format bottles of the 22-26oz. variety, and will wrap you in an invisible sweater of at least 10% alcohol. Blizzards are a good thing when you're properly stocked.
Barleywine has been deployed as a winter knock out drop by bored or insufficiently rowdy residents of the frostier climes for centuries. It is NyQuil by another name, and it is a blessed boon to those of us who seek to replace the lost hours of sunlight with - in order - hijinks and oblivion.
"I wish it was winter so we could freeze it into ice blocks and skate on it and melt it in the spring time and drink it!" Beerfest is a movie by Broken Lizard (the Super Troopers guys), who take the "unlikely hero saves the rec center" trope and get it knee-walking drunk in front of horrified loved ones. I'm a big fan. The action centers on the proprietors of Schnitzengiggle Tavern, a family of German descendants on a quest to regain both a long lost lager recipe, and America's beer drinking honor. The movie is extravagantly crass, usually leaves me sore both from laughing and a hangover, and MAY have been the inspiration for New England Brewing Company's Schnitzengiggles Festbier.Allegedly. Schnitzengiggles pours a distinctly brassy color, with a respectably sticky head. There are more hops to the nose than most märzens, and just a light whiff of malt. It is a beautifully smooth, slightly dry lager, and it has a very nice marbling of grainy richness. The hop character comes through in terms of a fruity flavor, rather than the more staid, traditional bitterness, and I'd say that's to be expected from the brewery that brought us Gandhi-Bot and Coriolis. I could and would drink this by the stein, liter, or glass boot.
I enjoy large scale beer events, music festivals, and Halloween for most of the same reasons. They include many of my favorite things in the same place, and all offer an equal possibility of seeing a bear in a hockey sweater dancing with Deadpool. A certain degree of madness (encouraged, tolerated or otherwise) is the ichor which circulates and gives these events life. Sound becomes emotion, quirks become costumes - the variegated states of being human, all our inner worlds, come crashing together and go supernova. Yes, I like that. So I tend to seek out the far out.
Danes seem to have a bit of a knack for madness, whether in front of the camera like Mads Mikkelen, behind it like Lars von Trier, or creating the liquor of its inspiration, like Jeppe Jarnit-Bjergsø of Evil Twin. The brand staggers its production around the world, even brewing some of its beers in Connecticut, but it all comes back to Jeppe, the Danish Willy Wonka: creations like Femme Fatale, an IPA brewed with Yuzu fruit and enough brettanomyces yeast to make the hop aroma fight it out with the smell of wet horse.
Few sensations enliven the mind like eye-catchingnovelty. Our minds have evolved such a predilection to find the next new thing, it's a compulsion. This is why slot machines are addictive even though they're so repetitive: there's something new every time. The new glass house is made of screens. Status, tweet, pin... tap, tap, tap.
It's easy to read about how this river of information which flows to us has made Americans indistinguishable from the couches which we permanently inhabit, but I think this is losing sight of the fact that rivers are also a means of transport. Ideas are hardly stationary. This week, let's take a look at a few novelties which have arrived on the Connecticut beer scene, and see if we can get some wheels turning.
Jack's Abbey launched just three years ago up in Massachusetts and has seemingly been winning awards ever since. The company is run by Jack, Eric and Sam Hendler, scions of an ice manufacturing family, whose Hendler Farms supplies man of the ingredients found in their beers. The brand name comes from Jack (who earned a degree in brewing in '07) and his wife, Abbey - whose name worked out pretty well as a reference to monkish beer brewing traditions. I started off with their Mass Rising Imperial Pils.
You're hungry, but you sit there, getting hungrier, because you don't know what you want to eat. Spoiled for choice, you end up ravenous and choosing the closest, quickest option for an ultimately unsatisfying resolution. An Italian combo sub is good, but Thai would have been better. Barbeque usually hits the spot, but enchiladas suizas are what you were really craving. Sometimes having fewer options can lead to happier conclusions. This week I'm going to give you a few options in three categories, and hopefully it will make your decisions a little easier the next time you're faced with a giant wall of six packs, or a tap list with fifty options.
How about something fruitier to start? A drink almost like a punch, or a cocktail you'd get at a tiki bar? One answer to sate this need is Birrificio del Ducato Frambozschella. This is an Italian beer made with fresh raspberries and lactic acid, then aged in wooden barrels. It pours a deep, dark ruby red, and had almost no head at all as it was poured for me. You'll be able to smell the pH from four inches away and it's sour, but it never threatened to turn my face inside out.
Dark beers and dark nights are falling away. Fresh life is shouldering its way through the crusty ground, and new batches of lively, energetic spring seasonals are seeing the light of day for the first time in brewery tasting rooms across the country.Spring time is for beer lovers.
The season lends itself to saisons, the ancient staple of farmers and field hands in need of relief during the planting and cultivation of new life. Stillwater Artisinal Ales is celebrating the arrival of fresh, new life with the release of its Debutante American Farmhouse Ale. This saison, brewed with a combination of spelt and rye, and accented with a blend of heather, honeysuckle, and hyssop, is actually a collaboration between Stillwater and Belgian beer specialists The Brewer's Art, of Baltimore.
The business of craft beer is expanding rapidly. Every Friday Froth column I've ever published on this site has been a celebration of that fact. I - and I'd guess you, if you're reading this - revel in the vast landscape of offerings which slake our thirst, delight our palette, and expand our notions of what beer can be. An article in the March issue of Forbes stated there are over 2,700 craft breweries in the U.S. right now, and the industry is currently worth roughly $100 billion per year. Unfortunately, that's money worth fighting for.
Lawyers in the employ of San Francisco-based Anchor Brewing Company have taken legal action against Hartford craft beer touchstone City Steam Brewery over the use of the word "steam." As of this week, I am officially boycotting Anchor beers until they drop this petty lawsuit, and I encourage anyone who cares about the craft beer landscape of Connecticut to do the same. Here's why...
Mark Twain once said the best thing about writing was having written. I tend to enjoy drinking more than having drunken (which is to say, I like drankin'), but it's especially nice to have a built-in justification. Todd Ruggere has given all of us in the Constitution State just such an excuse with the CT Pour Tour, in which he will drink at least one beer this year in all 169 towns in Connecticut, and raise money at every stop for Yale Children's Hospital. Todd has published a list of when and where he'll be over the course of 2014, and I caught up with him at the CT Pour Tour launch party at Two Roads in Stratford this past Saturday.
Todd spent 2013 completing his first pour tour, traveling through all 351 towns in his home state of Massachusetts.
I watched the International Space Station arc overhead last night at about half past five. Six crewmen from the U.S., Russia and Japan traced a fast arc overhead - a bright golden light from the hidden Sun, long since fallen below the horizon, reflected off their solar arrays and into my retinas, hundreds of miles below. I wondered if anyone was looking back, right at that moment. The station, five and half thousand days in Earth orbit at the time, faded away, long since over the north Atlantic, and I was left looking at stars like scattered grains of salt on a black sky. My throat burned from breathing the cold air. I headed inside, into light and warmth.
Winter beers are a different breed. That's what they're meant to do - bring you in out of the cold, if only figuratively, and supply a bit of metaphorical light in this darkest of months. Cold isn't an object - it can't be added to something the way we add a layer of clothing or a memory. Cold is the lack of energy, of heat. It's like when we say we want to make a room darker, but that's impossible, too. What we're really doing is taking away the light.
I do a lot of talking about Brooklyn beers in this space, between the eponymous Brooklyn Brewery, Sixpoint, He'brew/Coney Island etc. - and more on that later - but today we're going to start by kicking it up to the Boogie Down. The Bronx gets a lot of respect as the birthplace of hip hop and the home of Bullwackie's distinctly NYC dub, but if you know anything about the foodie scene outside of Arthur Avenue in the borough, you know more than me. I like to keep my eyes and ears open, though, and my mind well lubricated, so it wasn't too long before I was on the scent of a new brewer out of Port Morris.
The Bronx Brewery's flagship beer is called Bronx Pale Ale, and was slapped down on the bar top before me in an industrial looking one-pint can. I personally like the stripped down appearance of the silver and black can, and immediately noticed the brewery had followed the trend of printing the beer's ABV, SRM and IBUs right on there, but they had taken it a few steps further and included the Pale Ale's Original and Final Gravities.
Welcome back to another edition of CTBites’ own beer column, this time with a subtle aroma of pigskin. Tastes start to turn a little bit more to brown liquor as we transition from summer to fall but, back yard table or car bumper at a tailgate, it’s a sad hand that can’t reach for a beer. We have stone, metal and a miracle down below as we match the days and keep it crisp.
So fresh and so green, green: Stone Brewing in California brewed up a double IPA just for us this August and shipped it over for those who were paying attention. The brew is called Enjoy By 9-13-13 – (I gave a heads up in the last Froth here, and originally mentioned the series the first time we got a batch back in April) – and I finally got a chance to have some. Let me tell you: it was worth the wait.
Enjoy By pours a clear gold with a thick head and tons of sweet citrus on the nose. Tip up the glass and there is so much floral, citrusy hop taste you could almost chew it. It is immediately and strikingly apparent why the brewers at Stone made such a point of the degree of freshness. There is no small amount of bitterness, but it’s held in check by a sturdy malt base. At 9.4%, the alcohol may be cutting through the other ingredients to some degree, but it’s not noticeable in the flavor. The flavor, though, is delicious. It somehow gets better as the level of beer goes down and the number of sticky rings it has left on your glass goes up. Rare is the beer that can pull off that feat. If you love hops, you need to go out and find this beer.
Who's ready for summer to be over? You are? Well go stand in the corner with your dunce parka on, because NO. Don't listen to the dermatologists, with their "rules" and "facts": long days are our friends and we all have to get out and show some appreciation or the great dragon will return and swallow the Sun. That's the way it works and LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU telling me there are only two weeks left in the season. No.
There is an absolute pile of beer and event news I want to tell you about this week, but I think this first one belongs above the jump, with beer reviews to follow:
SoNo Marketplace will present Barks&Beer this Saturday, a $5 event to benefit Bully Breed Rescue, a New Canaan organization that helps save pit bulls, Staffordshire terriers and bulldogs. I have personal experience with pit bulls who have been rescued from abusive, neglectful owners, and seeing their transformation into happy, loving dogs just because someone cared about them for the first time in their lives is tangible proof there is good in the world. See the proof for yourself, and maybe let it lick your face, Aug. 24 from 1 to 6p.m., 314 Wilson Avenue, Norwalk. (bullybreedrescueinc.org)
B. United will be running another beer academy at Coalhouse Pizza in Stamford on Aug. 27 on the subject of bottom fermented beers.
Rolling with the windows down, warm night air blowing through, music playing, fireflies sparking at the corners of your vision... in the wintertime cars are about utility, but they seem to contain multitudes in the summer. This is especially true when you have a paper bag full of cold brews belted tightly as a child into the passenger seat. This week we'll take a short trip on the 'bahn to Stratford, try out something German, and bring it all home to Connecticut before a quick jaunt to the left coast and completely voiding the warranty somewhere in the south Pacific. Buckle up, and snorkel gear is not included.
Closest to home, Two Roads Brewing Co. introducedNo Limits Hefeweizenfor this summer. The can (yep) design features the symbol for Germany's autobahn front and center with the slashed grey of the 'bahn's dreamy unlimited sections incorporated in there between two stalks of wheat. It's summer blockbuster season, so allow me to put on my announcer voice (ahem):
I have met a lot of great people at beer bars. Whether the conversation starts with an apology for bumping elbows or parachuting into someone's conversation, there's a good chance they won't act like you've tried to cut them off in traffic. Plus, there's always beer to talk about if the conversation stalls out - most people are there for the same reason, after all. I like beer bars, but June is hardly a time for working on your hunchback impression over rings stained into a wooden bar, is it? No, ma'am. The recent spate of thunderstorms have currently left my basement in good condition to solve the drought problems of the entire American southwest, but it's still outdoor drinking season, dammit.
Outdoor drinking, especially outdoor day drinking, is the best drinking. Park, yard, beach, rocky outcrop in the Dolomites, it doesn't matter: you've already escaped the four walls which house most of life's tedium. Simply getting outside at all apparentlymakes us happier all on its own, but a drink in the hand does tend to add a certain air of possibility.
The swings in temperature lately set me back thinking about the equally wild temperamental capriciousness of the Greek gods. Just as it's not too difficult to convince me to go out for a beer, it only takes a slight hint for my mind to go in a Hellenistic direction, and springtime seems to always provide the nudge. It's a happy accident, then, that I've recently had a few beers fit to tell a tale.
The Greeks made their gods powerful, but they didn't need them to be infallible. The Olympians were more like people; they had pride which could be swelled or injured, love, hatred, jealousy, sexual appetites, creative instincts and, every once in a while, they'd strike a deal.
One of the most famous of these deals (well, if you're a classical mythology geek) is the story of Hades falling in love with Persephone and opening the Earth to swallow her so she could be his queen in the underworld.
A while back, I was reading about the defenses ostensibly neutral Switzerland has constructed around its countryside. Mountainsides rigged for landslides, underground fortresses capable of protecting most of the population, alpine meadows, dotted with cows, under rocky peaks which would rotate away and send forth squadrons of attack aircraft from interior runways - the punctual, predicable Swiss were capable of some pretty heavy surprises. There's a part of the Jura mountains with a nickname I like: "Franches Montagnes": the Free Mountains, which holds another surprise, beer from Brasserie des Franches-Montagnes.
An import this exotic is, of course, the work of Oxford, Connecticut's own B. United, which is how I had several pints of BFM's La Douze. "Douze" is French for "twelve" - from the Latin "duodecim" and giving us our word "dozen" - and was brewed for the BFM's twelfth anniversary. The best categorization I can offer for this one is a Belgian Pale Ale. Douze is an unassuming golden color and had a light head as it was poured when I encountered my first pint. There is a light floral aroma, but it's very subdued. Richness - that's what comes through on the first taste. The ethereal essence of Belgian yeast floats its bouquet above a surprisingly toasty body.
March Madness has once again taken hold of America's mind, and I do not give a damn. I care about the tournament for exactly as long as the Huskies are still in it and, since they're out of the dance completely this year, I've been looking elsewhere for marginally productive entertainment. People like bracket-based tournaments, it seems, because there are a ton to be found on the intertron this month. Beer brackets, news and reviews follow in this week's Froth.
Paste magazine, which is a pretty good source for new music and movie info, has the superbly named Top Of The Hops IPA Challenge, in which their editors purport to whittle down a national selection of brews in the quest to find America's best IPA. The bracket falls utterly flat, though, having taken cues from every other "national" review in history and leaving Connecticut beers completely off the list, despite having a Northeast region to the tournament. NEB's Gandhi-Bot remains the best IPA I've had in my entire life, and should have been the '99 UConn in this particular madness, but this is what you get when people from Atlanta grasp at a college sport not named football.
Welly, well, well, my drinking droogies - what's it going to be then, eh? Me? I'm going hybrid for the holiday, and downing a few pints of Black Velvet (I like to make it equal parts Guinness and champagne). It certainly does chase the grey away. But we can't rush into things, oh no. The sight of the crowds, of too much Kelly green, too fast - especially when contrasted with tanning bed orange - presents a shock to the system few mortals can bear. Thus it was that I decided to ease up and down and through a palette of greens in the Costa Rican jungle. To prepare myself for St. Patrick's Day, you see.
It's a strange feeling, while sipping a cold beer in a palm hut, to find you somehow have wifi. The distraction provided by the ability to check the score of the UConn game is occasionally a welcome one, though, since Costa Rican beers are nearly as indistinguishable from one another as they are terrible. They don't merit much expatiation, so on to the bullet points:
Between typing, I'm looking at surging whitecaps. The water glints with the stray sparkle of sunshine, but mostly it's the blue color of anodized chrome, evening off to a shallow green. It's cold, and the wind knifes into any exposed skin wherever it can, but there's that sunshine. Random patterns run across my chest and face, and I hold up a palm like a screen to see the fluid waves of light move on its surface. The Sun is starting to burn stronger - it's holding off the darkness for longer each night. I smile, sip a Whale's Tale, and try to remember where the hell I put my notes.
Spring beers are already starting to hit the market, it seems, like Magic Hat's Pistil, which has replaced the Vermont brewer's previous spring seasonal, Vinyl.
Victory looks ready to release several new beers this spring, including the K-Bomb and Ranch double IPAs, NATO IPA (made with American, English and German ingredients), and Swing Session Saison.
Session beers are popular now, but a single drinking session rarely includes 250 different beers. The Big Brew NY Beer Festival returned to White Plains on Feb. 7 with hundreds of kegged and bottled beers, plus a VIP area with almost 30 casks of special ales. It's tough to write with a beer in one hand and camera in the other, but I managed to record a few notes and observations from what has become a very good midsize beer festival.
