March is finished, warmer weather has brightened the days this week, and as expected, Gravity Head progress has slowed.
Gravity fatigue sets in each year, so it isn't a surprise.
We're 18 business days into Gravity Head 2005, and there are only eight beers yet to be tapped, and here is the way it stands as of 5:00 p.m. today.
ON TAP NOW: Thursday, March 31.
BBC Brewing Bearded Pat's Barley Wine '02
*New Holland Black Tulip Trippel Ale
De Dolle Ara Bier
EKU 28
Fantome Ete
Gales Prize Old Ale 2003 (keg)
*Great Lakes Blackout Stout
Guldenberg (De Ranke)
*Hitachino Japanese Classic Ale
Mahrs Der Weisse Bock
*New Albanian NobleSmoker (3rd keg)
*New Holland Black Tulip Abbey Tripel
Rogue Imperial Pilsner (2nd keg)
Stone Old Guardian Barley Wine (2004)
-----------
2005 "THEY'RE HISTORY" - BLOWN KEGS
Avery Hog Heaven
*Avery The Beast
Bluegrass Brewing Co. Mephistopheles Metamorphosis
Bell’s Batch 6000
Bell’s Expedition Stout
De Dolle Boskeun
De Dolle Dulle Teve (Mad Bitch) (first keg)
Fantome Saison
Gale’s Prize Old Ale 2004 (cask-conditioned)
*Geants Goliath Tripel
*Great Divide Hercules Double IPA
*Great Divide Oaked Yeti Imperial Stout
J. W. Lees Vintage Harvest Ale (5-gallon pin; 2003; Lagavulin-primed)
New Albanian NobleSmoker (four kegs gone)
*New Holland Pilgrim’s Dole Wheatwine Style Ale (2004)
*Ringneck Brewing FOTB Barley Wine
Rogue Imperial Pilsner (first keg)
Rogue Old Crustacean Barley Wine (Vintage 2000)
*Rogue Roguetoberfest (first keg)
*Rulles Tripel
Stone Double Bastard Ale
Stone Imperial Russian Stout
Two Brothers Bare Tree Weiss Wine (2004)
*Weihenstephaner Korbinian Doppelbock
-----------
YET TO BE TAPPED
Anchor Old Foghorn Ale
*Avery Maharaja Imperial IPA (in transit)
De Dolle Oerbier
Gales Millennium Ale
Hitachino Celebration Ale 2005
N’Ice Chouffe
Samichlaus 2003
Sierra Nevada Bigfoot Barleywine Style Ale (Vintage 2004)
-----------
SECOND KEGS STILL TO BE TAPPED
De Dolle Dulle Teve
*Rogue Roguetoberfest
-----------
SCRATCHES
*Rogue Fresh Hop Harvest Ale
The Rogue Fresh Hop did not make the trip from Oregon and has been scratched.
*Three Floyds (to be announced)
The Three Floyds keg proved to be Brian Boru, which is not a Gravity Head beer.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Urge Overswill: Social engineering in New Albany, or an uwelcome guest finally leaves the building (from 2002).
The following originally was published in 2002, when the NABC brewery first began operations. The piece came back to mind after the Bulls - Pacers game last weekend, during which something like 30 of Miller's new "prevent taste loss" ads were aired ... and my blood pressure rose to breathtaking heights.
For those who are not yet aware, the arrival of house-brewed beers at Rich O’s Public House and Sportstime Pizza signals the departure of American mass-market lagers and low-calorie “light” beers from Sportstime, and the completion of a crusade that began almost a decade ago.
There isn’t a beer snob among us who hasn’t experienced the dissonance that arises spontaneously when a brewpub patron is spotted drinking Budweiser or Miller Lite, usually straight from the bottle, while all around people are enjoying craft beers.
While it is lamentable that so many beer drinkers routinely settle for the lowest common denominator and choose to define themselves by reference to a mass-market product, and a generic one at that, it isn’t only a case of people consciously or unconsciously bowing to the incessant and pervasive nature of modern mass marketing.
It must be remembered that they are allowed to do so by the management of the brewpub in question.
Explanations for this incongruity on the part of management are many and seemingly varied, but quite frankly, most have at their foundation an implicit admission of cowardice on the part of ownership, further implying a lamentable unwillingness to trust the veracity of the beer being brewed on the premises.
By doing so, the establishment’s reason for being is fundamentally contradicted.
Speaking philosophically and conceptually, a bottle of Miller Lite is the antithesis of a pint of house-brewed ale. The very existence of the house-brewed ale, and by extension of the brewpub that produces it, is predicated as a necessary reaction to the bottle of Miller Lite.
The bottle of Miller Lite symbolizes the mass-market “McWorld,” in which the individual is subordinated to the system. Conversely, the pint of house-brewed ale celebrates the uniqueness to be found in every person and the joy of the differences to be discerned in pre-industrial commodities.
At this juncture, there will be readers who are unable to fathom the preceding. Some are irrevocably loyal to a certain brand, and no amount of persuasion will budge them from the certainty that McBeer, and McBeer alone, is the only beer in this huge and diverse world that can be allowed to touch their lips.
While most of us find comfort in the idea that human beings are rational animals; others embrace irrationality as a non-negotiable article of faith, and there is nothing that can be said, and no alternative to be offered, that will alter their perceptions.
A far better argument on behalf of Miller Lite goes something like this: A licensed establishment enters into business in order to make a profit, and the light, mainstream beers are the biggest selling brands in the world.
Furthermore, if the establishment is a restaurant and not just a bar, customers want to drink their favorite brands when they come in for their favorite meals.
I reiterate: What were these management people thinking when they made the decision to become a brewpub?
To brew one’s own beer and serve it on the premises is to stake out specific and specialized territory; one is proposing to jump far past Miller Lite in the same manner as a steak house is a more specific, specialized version of a hamburger joint.
Besides, isn’t it possible (and in fact, usually always the case) that the on-premise brewhouse can produce a mild, yellow-colored liquid for the flavor impaired?
I will concede that it takes patience and fortitude to navigate America’s insipid sea of swill, and I know that neither Rome nor the Lite Free Zone was built in a day. Now that Sportstime Pizza and Rich O’s Public House have added a brewing arm, the time has come to take the next logical step and provide New Albany with its first venue in which to enjoy the city’s, the country’s and the world’s finest beers without the taint of Anheuser-Busch and Miller.
On January 1, 1994, American low-calorie “light” lagers were banned from Rich O’s Public House, and the prices of dubiously “full-flavored” mainstream lagers (Budweiser prime among them) were raised. The advent of the Lite Free Zone was momentous, but as most Rich O’s patrons always grasped, it was a “zone” only, a foothold from which to wage war against the prevailingly “lightweight” mentality of Kentuckiana until such a time as it would be possible to extend the “good beer” mandate to the remainder of the building.
Consequently, we pursued a pragmatic strategy at Sportstime Pizza and continued to offer mainstream golden lagers and American low-calorie lagers. At the same time, we used Rich O’s Public House and its Lite Free Zone as the rallying point for the revolution. The results of this gradualist approach became increasingly evident as the millennium arrived: Steadily declining sales of mainstream lagers and light beers at Sportstime Pizza accompanied by concurrently increasing sales of good beer.
With the new brewery approved for operation and the first batches of beer already brewed on premise, it’s finally time to complete the process of transformation at Sportstime Pizza, which in its original incarnation (circa 1988) was the leading draft Budweiser account in all Floyd County. Now it will be the taproom and pizzeria fronting a brewpub dedicated to the revolution of good beer over mass-market swill.
When current stocks of Budweiser, Bud Light and Miller Lite are depleted, no more will be ordered. The New Albanian Brewing Company has brewed an authentic English Mild, a dark-colored, light-bodied and lightly hopped ale, to serve as the house “dark light” beer.
For those customers demanding the familiar golden hue, we will offer Spaten Premium Lager, certainly the easiest drinking of German beers. We have introduced Flying Dog Old Scratch Lager, and still offer Samuel Adams Boston Lager. Lighter imports like Red Stripe and Warsteiner still are available, albeit at regular prices.
To drinkers of light beer, I say this: Try to remember what it was like when you were a baby (of course I do), and a quivering spoonful of Gerber’s goo was lovingly offered in the vicinity of your mouth.
Sure, it tasted good. It was easy going down, and it served the purpose – but c’mon, you knew even then that it was a passing stage, because you really were thinking about growing up someday and being big, and when you were big, you certainly wouldn’t have to eat Gerber’s any longer; there’d be steak! Chicken! Lasagna! Bacon! Even falafel (for the veggie crowd)!
It’s the same with beer.
Now it’s time to grow up, to wean your long-suffering palate from the spoon-fed swill, and to become an adult beer drinker. Sugarcoating no longer is necessary: If you can’t drink Spaten Premium Lager, you have no business drinking beer, here or elsewhere. It’s as simple as that, and as a business, we’ll sink or swim with that dictum in mind.
Thank you for your support.
For those who are not yet aware, the arrival of house-brewed beers at Rich O’s Public House and Sportstime Pizza signals the departure of American mass-market lagers and low-calorie “light” beers from Sportstime, and the completion of a crusade that began almost a decade ago.
There isn’t a beer snob among us who hasn’t experienced the dissonance that arises spontaneously when a brewpub patron is spotted drinking Budweiser or Miller Lite, usually straight from the bottle, while all around people are enjoying craft beers.
While it is lamentable that so many beer drinkers routinely settle for the lowest common denominator and choose to define themselves by reference to a mass-market product, and a generic one at that, it isn’t only a case of people consciously or unconsciously bowing to the incessant and pervasive nature of modern mass marketing.
It must be remembered that they are allowed to do so by the management of the brewpub in question.
Explanations for this incongruity on the part of management are many and seemingly varied, but quite frankly, most have at their foundation an implicit admission of cowardice on the part of ownership, further implying a lamentable unwillingness to trust the veracity of the beer being brewed on the premises.
By doing so, the establishment’s reason for being is fundamentally contradicted.
Speaking philosophically and conceptually, a bottle of Miller Lite is the antithesis of a pint of house-brewed ale. The very existence of the house-brewed ale, and by extension of the brewpub that produces it, is predicated as a necessary reaction to the bottle of Miller Lite.
The bottle of Miller Lite symbolizes the mass-market “McWorld,” in which the individual is subordinated to the system. Conversely, the pint of house-brewed ale celebrates the uniqueness to be found in every person and the joy of the differences to be discerned in pre-industrial commodities.
At this juncture, there will be readers who are unable to fathom the preceding. Some are irrevocably loyal to a certain brand, and no amount of persuasion will budge them from the certainty that McBeer, and McBeer alone, is the only beer in this huge and diverse world that can be allowed to touch their lips.
While most of us find comfort in the idea that human beings are rational animals; others embrace irrationality as a non-negotiable article of faith, and there is nothing that can be said, and no alternative to be offered, that will alter their perceptions.
A far better argument on behalf of Miller Lite goes something like this: A licensed establishment enters into business in order to make a profit, and the light, mainstream beers are the biggest selling brands in the world.
Furthermore, if the establishment is a restaurant and not just a bar, customers want to drink their favorite brands when they come in for their favorite meals.
I reiterate: What were these management people thinking when they made the decision to become a brewpub?
To brew one’s own beer and serve it on the premises is to stake out specific and specialized territory; one is proposing to jump far past Miller Lite in the same manner as a steak house is a more specific, specialized version of a hamburger joint.
Besides, isn’t it possible (and in fact, usually always the case) that the on-premise brewhouse can produce a mild, yellow-colored liquid for the flavor impaired?
I will concede that it takes patience and fortitude to navigate America’s insipid sea of swill, and I know that neither Rome nor the Lite Free Zone was built in a day. Now that Sportstime Pizza and Rich O’s Public House have added a brewing arm, the time has come to take the next logical step and provide New Albany with its first venue in which to enjoy the city’s, the country’s and the world’s finest beers without the taint of Anheuser-Busch and Miller.
On January 1, 1994, American low-calorie “light” lagers were banned from Rich O’s Public House, and the prices of dubiously “full-flavored” mainstream lagers (Budweiser prime among them) were raised. The advent of the Lite Free Zone was momentous, but as most Rich O’s patrons always grasped, it was a “zone” only, a foothold from which to wage war against the prevailingly “lightweight” mentality of Kentuckiana until such a time as it would be possible to extend the “good beer” mandate to the remainder of the building.
Consequently, we pursued a pragmatic strategy at Sportstime Pizza and continued to offer mainstream golden lagers and American low-calorie lagers. At the same time, we used Rich O’s Public House and its Lite Free Zone as the rallying point for the revolution. The results of this gradualist approach became increasingly evident as the millennium arrived: Steadily declining sales of mainstream lagers and light beers at Sportstime Pizza accompanied by concurrently increasing sales of good beer.
With the new brewery approved for operation and the first batches of beer already brewed on premise, it’s finally time to complete the process of transformation at Sportstime Pizza, which in its original incarnation (circa 1988) was the leading draft Budweiser account in all Floyd County. Now it will be the taproom and pizzeria fronting a brewpub dedicated to the revolution of good beer over mass-market swill.
When current stocks of Budweiser, Bud Light and Miller Lite are depleted, no more will be ordered. The New Albanian Brewing Company has brewed an authentic English Mild, a dark-colored, light-bodied and lightly hopped ale, to serve as the house “dark light” beer.
For those customers demanding the familiar golden hue, we will offer Spaten Premium Lager, certainly the easiest drinking of German beers. We have introduced Flying Dog Old Scratch Lager, and still offer Samuel Adams Boston Lager. Lighter imports like Red Stripe and Warsteiner still are available, albeit at regular prices.
To drinkers of light beer, I say this: Try to remember what it was like when you were a baby (of course I do), and a quivering spoonful of Gerber’s goo was lovingly offered in the vicinity of your mouth.
Sure, it tasted good. It was easy going down, and it served the purpose – but c’mon, you knew even then that it was a passing stage, because you really were thinking about growing up someday and being big, and when you were big, you certainly wouldn’t have to eat Gerber’s any longer; there’d be steak! Chicken! Lasagna! Bacon! Even falafel (for the veggie crowd)!
It’s the same with beer.
Now it’s time to grow up, to wean your long-suffering palate from the spoon-fed swill, and to become an adult beer drinker. Sugarcoating no longer is necessary: If you can’t drink Spaten Premium Lager, you have no business drinking beer, here or elsewhere. It’s as simple as that, and as a business, we’ll sink or swim with that dictum in mind.
Thank you for your support.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Belated, but Schlenkerla Fastenbier appears on draft at Rich O's.
There's action on the non-Gravity Head front with the tapping today of Schlenkerla Fastenbier (Lenten Beer), a very special treat from the Brauerei Heller Trum in Bamberg, Germany.
In Bamberg, the Fastenbier has been served only from Ash Wednesday through Easter, and only from the Schlenkerla tavern's familiar wooden barrels. However, a small portion of kegged Fastenbier was sent Stateside, and we purchased two 30-liter kegs. The importer, B. United International, was a wee bit tardy getting them out to us, so we'll be selling the beer past Easter ... although it shouldn't be around for long.
While Schlenkerla's flagship Marzen and superb Ur Bock both are made with 100% smoked malt from the brewery's own maltings, Fastenbier is made with 50% smoked malt and 50% pilsner malt. Naturally, this proportion yields a milder smokiness. The beer is reddish amber, and unfiltered, though it was pouring bright today.
The flavor is very fresh. There's more smoke in the nose than on the palate, but it's there, and although I favor the smokier examples, Fastenbier is an ideal introduction to the nuances of smoked lager.
Those close to me know that I can't say enough about Bamberg, and Schlenkerla is my favorite brewery (of ten) in that lovely Franconian city. I've had the incredible good fortune to meet and become friends with Matthias Trum, the sixth in his family to own the brewery and tavern.
Sampling the Fastenbier this afternoon, I could shut my eyes and pretend that Bmaberg, not New Albany, lay outside the doors. All that was needed was Schlenkerla's beer cheese and smoked ham ... which prompts an idea. Perhaps I'll save the second keg until we can round up some German food, and then have an intimate gathering of smoked beer aficionados.
Stay tuned. I'll let you know.
In Bamberg, the Fastenbier has been served only from Ash Wednesday through Easter, and only from the Schlenkerla tavern's familiar wooden barrels. However, a small portion of kegged Fastenbier was sent Stateside, and we purchased two 30-liter kegs. The importer, B. United International, was a wee bit tardy getting them out to us, so we'll be selling the beer past Easter ... although it shouldn't be around for long.
While Schlenkerla's flagship Marzen and superb Ur Bock both are made with 100% smoked malt from the brewery's own maltings, Fastenbier is made with 50% smoked malt and 50% pilsner malt. Naturally, this proportion yields a milder smokiness. The beer is reddish amber, and unfiltered, though it was pouring bright today.
The flavor is very fresh. There's more smoke in the nose than on the palate, but it's there, and although I favor the smokier examples, Fastenbier is an ideal introduction to the nuances of smoked lager.
Those close to me know that I can't say enough about Bamberg, and Schlenkerla is my favorite brewery (of ten) in that lovely Franconian city. I've had the incredible good fortune to meet and become friends with Matthias Trum, the sixth in his family to own the brewery and tavern.
Sampling the Fastenbier this afternoon, I could shut my eyes and pretend that Bmaberg, not New Albany, lay outside the doors. All that was needed was Schlenkerla's beer cheese and smoked ham ... which prompts an idea. Perhaps I'll save the second keg until we can round up some German food, and then have an intimate gathering of smoked beer aficionados.
Stay tuned. I'll let you know.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Gravity Head Journal: Third Thursday report from the front.
One facet of Gravity Head that never changes is that no matter how I try to plan the progression of beers, inevitably it turns out that we're short of certain types of tavern heads (the keg connectors).
All the American kegs were assumed to use everyday Sankeys, but the five-year-old Rogue Old Crustacean required a Golden Gate, i.e., different fittings for CO2 at the top of the keg and the beer line on the bottom. Luckily I found these in the bin, and with Chris's help, got them working.
I thought all the Belgians would be Euro Sankeys (longer probes), but more turned out to be German sliders than I'd imagined. Because I'd loaned out a German slider and couldn't find a part for another, there are only three on line, limiting what can be tapped when a keg is blown.
It's the same story every year. At some point, everything I need will be present and workable.
This year's scratches are Rogue Fresh Hop (never made it in with the rest of the shipment) and the Three Floyds "mystery beer," which turned out to be Brian Boru, a red ale that doesn't fit the Gravity Head profile but is perfectly good in its own right.
This means that as of today, we're 30 or 31 beers into 43, meaning that there are 14 on tap, 16 or 17 (can't remember which) gone, and the rest remaining to be tapped. That's a good depletion rate for 11 business days.
In personal terms, after two weeks I'm finally able to muster enough sensory capacity to actually taste the Gravity Head beers. Today's sips were of Hitachino Japanese Classic Ale and BBC Bearded Pat's Barley Wine (2002).
In keeping with the rice "sake" legacy of the brewery, the Hitachino is eposed to cedar during conditioning, and it is strong in the nose. It's a fairly well hopped ale, supposedly based on the old British IPA recipes, and the cedar enhances the hops. All in all, I was pleasantly surprised.
Of course, Bearded Pat's is a longtime area favorite. The 2002 is a wee bit oxidized, but in a very positive way. A very mellow barley wine in every respect, with malt and hop in lovely harmony. While wishing that I could have tasted the 2000 Old Crusty for the sake of comparison, I'm happy that David Pierce made the vintage Bearded Pat's available to us for Gravity Head.
All the American kegs were assumed to use everyday Sankeys, but the five-year-old Rogue Old Crustacean required a Golden Gate, i.e., different fittings for CO2 at the top of the keg and the beer line on the bottom. Luckily I found these in the bin, and with Chris's help, got them working.
I thought all the Belgians would be Euro Sankeys (longer probes), but more turned out to be German sliders than I'd imagined. Because I'd loaned out a German slider and couldn't find a part for another, there are only three on line, limiting what can be tapped when a keg is blown.
It's the same story every year. At some point, everything I need will be present and workable.
This year's scratches are Rogue Fresh Hop (never made it in with the rest of the shipment) and the Three Floyds "mystery beer," which turned out to be Brian Boru, a red ale that doesn't fit the Gravity Head profile but is perfectly good in its own right.
This means that as of today, we're 30 or 31 beers into 43, meaning that there are 14 on tap, 16 or 17 (can't remember which) gone, and the rest remaining to be tapped. That's a good depletion rate for 11 business days.
In personal terms, after two weeks I'm finally able to muster enough sensory capacity to actually taste the Gravity Head beers. Today's sips were of Hitachino Japanese Classic Ale and BBC Bearded Pat's Barley Wine (2002).
In keeping with the rice "sake" legacy of the brewery, the Hitachino is eposed to cedar during conditioning, and it is strong in the nose. It's a fairly well hopped ale, supposedly based on the old British IPA recipes, and the cedar enhances the hops. All in all, I was pleasantly surprised.
Of course, Bearded Pat's is a longtime area favorite. The 2002 is a wee bit oxidized, but in a very positive way. A very mellow barley wine in every respect, with malt and hop in lovely harmony. While wishing that I could have tasted the 2000 Old Crusty for the sake of comparison, I'm happy that David Pierce made the vintage Bearded Pat's available to us for Gravity Head.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Boston Beer's Jim Koch shoots himself in the foot ... again.
The essence of my beef with Jim Koch, founder of Boston Beer Company and mastermind of the Samuel Adams line of beers, is his bizarre fondness for randomly spraying mixed marketing signals across the airwaves.
Koch is like a child with a new squirt gun, and his obvious instincts for self-aggrandizement often have the effect, intentional or otherwise, of demeaning the very "good beer" genre that he purports to champion.
Consider that the image of beer as a whole constantly is being cheapened, weakened and gutted outright by the juvenile advertising strategies of America’s megabrewers.
You’d think that a company positioning itself as a “craft brewer” would not emulate such harmful marketing campaigns, but when Boston Beer rolled out the “light beer we previously said we’d never make,” the television ads were every bit as embarrassingly sophomoric as anything conceived by Pete Coors or August Busch IV.
After this degrading debacle, the marketing for Samuel Adam’s lurched crazily back to the simply inane.
An actor portraying the beer’s namesake, suitably garbed in Colonial dress, would suddenly appear and woodenly toast the camera as though auditioning for a junior high school play.
If you think this sort of advertising plays to the clueless denizens of Louisville’s Fourth Street Live, a.k.a. the target demographic of Sam Adams, then kindly come examine the proverbial bridge we have on sale today.
Certain ads in this series still are being televised, including one in which three young men enter a good beer bar and ignore the best beers of the world, opting for a Sam Adams (cue the Colonial dork, please) in what amounts to a leering swipe at European import snobbery.
And so, having spit in the face of the European beer heritage, the ever-expedient Koch now offers an advertisement that exalts the superiority of genuine German hops, including the obligatory pose in which the founder buries his face in hop cones while German-accented voices testify to his faultless logic in selecting such good ingredients for his beers.
Our man Jimmy seems to be having a perpetual identity crisis. Light beer is bad … no wait, actually it’s good – as long as we make it!
And, import beer snobbery is bad … no wait, it’s good, so long as it applies to the hops we buy from Germany and not our imported competitors from the very same country.
On and on it goes, and where Koch's blatant hypocrisy stops ... well, you know the rest.
Says the Curmudgeon: Good beer is good beer, period. All of us, even Jim Koch, who are on the side of good beer need to focus our energies on behalf of good beer and against mundane, tasteless and insipid – yes, "bad" – beer.
The question remains: Which side is Jim Koch really on?
(I would refer you to the Sam Adams web site as a courtesy, but the fact that visitors must endure two age checks before entering has soured the Curmudgeon on the experience).
Koch is like a child with a new squirt gun, and his obvious instincts for self-aggrandizement often have the effect, intentional or otherwise, of demeaning the very "good beer" genre that he purports to champion.
Consider that the image of beer as a whole constantly is being cheapened, weakened and gutted outright by the juvenile advertising strategies of America’s megabrewers.
You’d think that a company positioning itself as a “craft brewer” would not emulate such harmful marketing campaigns, but when Boston Beer rolled out the “light beer we previously said we’d never make,” the television ads were every bit as embarrassingly sophomoric as anything conceived by Pete Coors or August Busch IV.
After this degrading debacle, the marketing for Samuel Adam’s lurched crazily back to the simply inane.
An actor portraying the beer’s namesake, suitably garbed in Colonial dress, would suddenly appear and woodenly toast the camera as though auditioning for a junior high school play.
If you think this sort of advertising plays to the clueless denizens of Louisville’s Fourth Street Live, a.k.a. the target demographic of Sam Adams, then kindly come examine the proverbial bridge we have on sale today.
Certain ads in this series still are being televised, including one in which three young men enter a good beer bar and ignore the best beers of the world, opting for a Sam Adams (cue the Colonial dork, please) in what amounts to a leering swipe at European import snobbery.
And so, having spit in the face of the European beer heritage, the ever-expedient Koch now offers an advertisement that exalts the superiority of genuine German hops, including the obligatory pose in which the founder buries his face in hop cones while German-accented voices testify to his faultless logic in selecting such good ingredients for his beers.
Our man Jimmy seems to be having a perpetual identity crisis. Light beer is bad … no wait, actually it’s good – as long as we make it!
And, import beer snobbery is bad … no wait, it’s good, so long as it applies to the hops we buy from Germany and not our imported competitors from the very same country.
On and on it goes, and where Koch's blatant hypocrisy stops ... well, you know the rest.
Says the Curmudgeon: Good beer is good beer, period. All of us, even Jim Koch, who are on the side of good beer need to focus our energies on behalf of good beer and against mundane, tasteless and insipid – yes, "bad" – beer.
The question remains: Which side is Jim Koch really on?
(I would refer you to the Sam Adams web site as a courtesy, but the fact that visitors must endure two age checks before entering has soured the Curmudgeon on the experience).
Thursday, March 17, 2005
(Revised) Turku, Finland leads the way in reclaiming the commercial past for the drinking future.
(Originally posted at NA Confidential, re-posted here with additional notes on Finnish beers).
Turku, Finland (population 176,000) celebrated its 775th birthday in 2004. Located in southwestern Finland, Turku was Finland’s first capital and remains an important port and jumping off point for Sweden and other Baltic destinations.
In 1999, my good friend Barrie and I had the good fortune to spend the day in Turku while waiting for the ship to Stockholm. We wandered around the lovely and clean city, amazed at the seamless blend of new and old.
Perhaps befitting the home of two universities, Turku boasts a thriving nightlife and a series of excellent restaurants and pubs.Even beer hunting veterans like us weren’t prepared for the extent to which Turku has grafted together yesterday’s commercial structures with today’s drinking venues.
We first became aware of this at the city’s early 20th century Pharmacy – completely restored and in us as a bar. Ditto the old Bank. The News Stand down the way has a tiny microbrewery squeezed into the back, while the impressive former girls school in the center has been refurbished into a brewpub and restaurant, with a beer garden where the playground used to be.
Crazily, Turku’s public toilet has not escaped this trend to provide historic settings for imbibing. Yes, you can have a beer at the public toilet.
I'm not making this up. It’s all here: Beer Lovers Study Tour.
My point isn’t that such inspired preservationist thinking might ever seep into the conservative, clogged arterial passages of New Albany, although hope springs eternal.
Rather, it’s what can be done by thinking progressively, being unafraid to land somewhere outside the box, and having a little fun along the way.
As for the beers we sampled ...
Everyday Finnish golden lager beers naturally proliferated, but these can be of a higher-than-Euro-average standard, with a good, crisp malt character and some mouth feel.
I recall the schoolhouse brewpub having a German-style Dunkel Weizen as a seasonal, and the Daily News boasting a mildish bitter. Earlier in the trip, in Tampere, we had a good ESB at that city's downtown brew pub, Plevna, located in a huge former cotton mill.
The most frustrating thing about the Finnish visit was our visit to the Sinebrychoff brewery near Helsinki, which required fancy commuter footwork that still left us a couple of miles shy of the brewery (located in an industrial park), resulting in a healthy walk.
With a citation of "proprietary" information, we were asked to leave our cameras at the desk, and the seemingly inconvenienced export department employee glanced constantly at his watch as he led us through the tour.
Next to nothing was said about Sinebrychoff Porter, our sole reason for visiting. Eventually we were dropped off at the commissary and left to root through a fridge for samples, then given our gift package (including "L" tee-shirts and a few mainstream beers) and shunted off to wait for a taxi on the front steps.
I won't judge Finland by the boorishness on display at one brewery. Our hosts in Tampere, Henrik and Eva, are marvelous human beings and treated us to a cookout complete with Sahti at their sumptuous country weekend house.
And, in the final analysis, who can complain about a country where you can drink a beer at the bar in the old public toilet?
See Josh Oakes's Finland beer overview for further information on the beers of Finland.
Turku, Finland (population 176,000) celebrated its 775th birthday in 2004. Located in southwestern Finland, Turku was Finland’s first capital and remains an important port and jumping off point for Sweden and other Baltic destinations.
In 1999, my good friend Barrie and I had the good fortune to spend the day in Turku while waiting for the ship to Stockholm. We wandered around the lovely and clean city, amazed at the seamless blend of new and old.
Perhaps befitting the home of two universities, Turku boasts a thriving nightlife and a series of excellent restaurants and pubs.Even beer hunting veterans like us weren’t prepared for the extent to which Turku has grafted together yesterday’s commercial structures with today’s drinking venues.
We first became aware of this at the city’s early 20th century Pharmacy – completely restored and in us as a bar. Ditto the old Bank. The News Stand down the way has a tiny microbrewery squeezed into the back, while the impressive former girls school in the center has been refurbished into a brewpub and restaurant, with a beer garden where the playground used to be.
Crazily, Turku’s public toilet has not escaped this trend to provide historic settings for imbibing. Yes, you can have a beer at the public toilet.
I'm not making this up. It’s all here: Beer Lovers Study Tour.
My point isn’t that such inspired preservationist thinking might ever seep into the conservative, clogged arterial passages of New Albany, although hope springs eternal.
Rather, it’s what can be done by thinking progressively, being unafraid to land somewhere outside the box, and having a little fun along the way.
As for the beers we sampled ...
Everyday Finnish golden lager beers naturally proliferated, but these can be of a higher-than-Euro-average standard, with a good, crisp malt character and some mouth feel.
I recall the schoolhouse brewpub having a German-style Dunkel Weizen as a seasonal, and the Daily News boasting a mildish bitter. Earlier in the trip, in Tampere, we had a good ESB at that city's downtown brew pub, Plevna, located in a huge former cotton mill.
The most frustrating thing about the Finnish visit was our visit to the Sinebrychoff brewery near Helsinki, which required fancy commuter footwork that still left us a couple of miles shy of the brewery (located in an industrial park), resulting in a healthy walk.
With a citation of "proprietary" information, we were asked to leave our cameras at the desk, and the seemingly inconvenienced export department employee glanced constantly at his watch as he led us through the tour.
Next to nothing was said about Sinebrychoff Porter, our sole reason for visiting. Eventually we were dropped off at the commissary and left to root through a fridge for samples, then given our gift package (including "L" tee-shirts and a few mainstream beers) and shunted off to wait for a taxi on the front steps.
I won't judge Finland by the boorishness on display at one brewery. Our hosts in Tampere, Henrik and Eva, are marvelous human beings and treated us to a cookout complete with Sahti at their sumptuous country weekend house.
And, in the final analysis, who can complain about a country where you can drink a beer at the bar in the old public toilet?
See Josh Oakes's Finland beer overview for further information on the beers of Finland.
Gravity Head Journal: Second Thursday report from the front.
In seven years of Gravity Head, there's been one big change, and I'm not sure how to account for it.
In terms of Gravity styles, Barley Wine continues to decline as a fan choice.
The first non-cask kegs to blow this year were NABC's NobleSmoker (Rauchbier; second keg tapped), "Imperial" IPA and Pilsner (Great Divide and Rogue, respectively), Great Divide's Oaked Yeti Imperial Stout, and the unclassifiable monolith of Avery "The Beast."
Meanwhile, Barley Wine kegs from Stone, Bell's and Avery are still heavy, although the Rogue Old Crustacean 2000 nears the end. Still to come are these as-yet-untapped Barley Wines: Vintage 2002 BBC Brewing Bearded Pat's, Ringneck FOTB, Sierra Nevada Bigfoot (2004) and Anchor Old Foghorn. If you remain among the faithful, there's plenty for you in the coming weeks.
Expect Stone Double Bastard and Bell's Expedition Stout to be gone soon. They will be replaced by a Belgians and a German. Our two Fantome kegs have been brought into position, but must be allowed to settle for a few days before tapping.
Finally, the (gulp) Adnam's Tally-Ho Barley Wine will be on the hand pump tomorrow (Friday, March 18).
I've been cleared by the medical staff to go into work during morning and set the table for the day, but owing to my weakened lungs and an enhanced susceptibility to infection (and cigarette smoke), I'm not allowed to work the floor until next week.
How many days into Gravity Head will it be before I'm actually able to take a drink?
In terms of Gravity styles, Barley Wine continues to decline as a fan choice.
The first non-cask kegs to blow this year were NABC's NobleSmoker (Rauchbier; second keg tapped), "Imperial" IPA and Pilsner (Great Divide and Rogue, respectively), Great Divide's Oaked Yeti Imperial Stout, and the unclassifiable monolith of Avery "The Beast."
Meanwhile, Barley Wine kegs from Stone, Bell's and Avery are still heavy, although the Rogue Old Crustacean 2000 nears the end. Still to come are these as-yet-untapped Barley Wines: Vintage 2002 BBC Brewing Bearded Pat's, Ringneck FOTB, Sierra Nevada Bigfoot (2004) and Anchor Old Foghorn. If you remain among the faithful, there's plenty for you in the coming weeks.
Expect Stone Double Bastard and Bell's Expedition Stout to be gone soon. They will be replaced by a Belgians and a German. Our two Fantome kegs have been brought into position, but must be allowed to settle for a few days before tapping.
Finally, the (gulp) Adnam's Tally-Ho Barley Wine will be on the hand pump tomorrow (Friday, March 18).
I've been cleared by the medical staff to go into work during morning and set the table for the day, but owing to my weakened lungs and an enhanced susceptibility to infection (and cigarette smoke), I'm not allowed to work the floor until next week.
How many days into Gravity Head will it be before I'm actually able to take a drink?
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Brewer needed at the New Albanian Brewing Company.
Later this spring, the New Albanian Brewing Company will be bidding a fond farewell to Michael Borchers, our brewer since fermentation began in 2002.
As many of you have heard, Michael has decided to return to school in pursuit of an advanced degree, and although he’ll remain on board in a limited capacity as consultant-for-beer, we’re now actively seeking a full-time replacement to brew the staple lineup that Michael developed (Community Dark, Beak’s, Elector, Tunnel Vision, Bourbondaddy, et al), but more importantly, to indulge the whims of creativity with respect to seasonals and special beers, and help phase in the brewery expansion (delayed, but still on the agenda for this year).
Employment will begin very soon. Serious inquiries should be directed to Roger A. Baylor at potable@richos.com.
As many of you have heard, Michael has decided to return to school in pursuit of an advanced degree, and although he’ll remain on board in a limited capacity as consultant-for-beer, we’re now actively seeking a full-time replacement to brew the staple lineup that Michael developed (Community Dark, Beak’s, Elector, Tunnel Vision, Bourbondaddy, et al), but more importantly, to indulge the whims of creativity with respect to seasonals and special beers, and help phase in the brewery expansion (delayed, but still on the agenda for this year).
Employment will begin very soon. Serious inquiries should be directed to Roger A. Baylor at potable@richos.com.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Gravity Head 2005 steams forward
With little participation from the Publican, Gravity Head 2005 is under way.
Gone so far are the two cask-conditioned ales, Gale's Prize Old Ale and JW Lees Vintage Harvest Ale 2003, and also Great Divide Hercules Imperial IPA and Rogue Imperial Pilsner.
Replacements are Bluegrass Brewing Company's Mephistopheles Metamorphosis and De Dolle Dulle Teve ("Mad Bitch.")
For daily updates, go here.
By the way, I'm feeling better. Thanks to everyone at work who's covered for me in various ways. I appreciate your hard work.
Gone so far are the two cask-conditioned ales, Gale's Prize Old Ale and JW Lees Vintage Harvest Ale 2003, and also Great Divide Hercules Imperial IPA and Rogue Imperial Pilsner.
Replacements are Bluegrass Brewing Company's Mephistopheles Metamorphosis and De Dolle Dulle Teve ("Mad Bitch.")
For daily updates, go here.
By the way, I'm feeling better. Thanks to everyone at work who's covered for me in various ways. I appreciate your hard work.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Gravity Head +1: Curmudgeon on the D.L.
It is perhaps a fitting conclusion to this most surreal of weeks that I've submitted to my doctor's orders and agreed not to leave the house before Monday at the earliest.
At 1:30 p.m. Friday, having finished with Gravity Head preparations and given the monolith a downhill push (with the beer-side help of Chris, Tim and Tim - thanks, guys), I conceded the inevitable and visited the sawbones, who listened intently to the packing bubbles popping in my lungs and pronounced a verdict of "bacterial pneumonia."
I've now been juiced with antibiotics, heavy-duty prescription cough syrup and ibuprophin, which enabled me to sleep 17 straight hours last night and this morning. A vague feeling of humanity is beginning to return.
Here's what I'll remember from all this: Yesterday morning, tapping Gravity Head beers one after the other, checking the fittings, trying to make sure everything was right, affixing labels and tap handles ... and pouring a half glass of each, which was left to sit beneath the tap. My usual routine would be to smell each and take a nip, but with my physical system screaming "TILT," I was left with exactly the same aroma for 14 different beers: Welch's Grape Juice.
Not exactly useful tasting notes, although I may have seen worse.
When we returned home from the doctor's office, Diana set off for the grocery and pharmacy, asking me what I needed for the weekend. The first thing that came into my mind?
Welch's Grape Juice. Not much hop character, but it's sufficing ...
At 1:30 p.m. Friday, having finished with Gravity Head preparations and given the monolith a downhill push (with the beer-side help of Chris, Tim and Tim - thanks, guys), I conceded the inevitable and visited the sawbones, who listened intently to the packing bubbles popping in my lungs and pronounced a verdict of "bacterial pneumonia."
I've now been juiced with antibiotics, heavy-duty prescription cough syrup and ibuprophin, which enabled me to sleep 17 straight hours last night and this morning. A vague feeling of humanity is beginning to return.
Here's what I'll remember from all this: Yesterday morning, tapping Gravity Head beers one after the other, checking the fittings, trying to make sure everything was right, affixing labels and tap handles ... and pouring a half glass of each, which was left to sit beneath the tap. My usual routine would be to smell each and take a nip, but with my physical system screaming "TILT," I was left with exactly the same aroma for 14 different beers: Welch's Grape Juice.
Not exactly useful tasting notes, although I may have seen worse.
When we returned home from the doctor's office, Diana set off for the grocery and pharmacy, asking me what I needed for the weekend. The first thing that came into my mind?
Welch's Grape Juice. Not much hop character, but it's sufficing ...
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Thursday Gravity Head Journal: In sickness and in health.
Yes, Gravity Head starts tomorrow.
There's a story from "Ball Four," Jim Bouton's classic peak into the clubhouse of late 1960's baseball, in which Mickey Mantle crawls off the bench to pinch-hit, so hungover he barely could see, and nails a home run. He returns to the bench, eyes the cheering throng, and comments, "they have no idea how hard that was."
I'm saying the same thing tomorrow.
The show must go on; no choices, really, when you're an entrepreneur and a small businessman, but at the same time this week's taken a year off my life.
At just the time when pre-Gravity Head preparations intensify, I came down with the epizudic (sic). Three days of complete incapacitation have been followed by three more trying to complete pricing, tap handles, the program, and the other thousand and one things that must occur in order to do Gravity Head.
This is the flip side of the freedom afforded those who work for themselves. Sometimes, you simply cannot call in sick.
There's a story from "Ball Four," Jim Bouton's classic peak into the clubhouse of late 1960's baseball, in which Mickey Mantle crawls off the bench to pinch-hit, so hungover he barely could see, and nails a home run. He returns to the bench, eyes the cheering throng, and comments, "they have no idea how hard that was."
I'm saying the same thing tomorrow.
The show must go on; no choices, really, when you're an entrepreneur and a small businessman, but at the same time this week's taken a year off my life.
At just the time when pre-Gravity Head preparations intensify, I came down with the epizudic (sic). Three days of complete incapacitation have been followed by three more trying to complete pricing, tap handles, the program, and the other thousand and one things that must occur in order to do Gravity Head.
This is the flip side of the freedom afforded those who work for themselves. Sometimes, you simply cannot call in sick.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Eileen Martin to be GM of new 4th Street BBC?
Rumor has it that Eileen Martin, until recently the head brewer at Browning's Brewery, is resurfacing as general manager of the new Bluegrass Brewing Co. (St. Matthews) joint venture on 4th Street in downtown Louisville.
The way I understand the project, BBC's Jerry Gnagy will brew the beer in St. Matthews, while the Third Avenue Cafe will do the cooking. With a location on Theater Square, the new restaurant will be just south of the epicenter of 4th Street Live, Louisville's year-old, chain-dominated attempt to jumpstart downtown -- but just across from The Palace musical venue, which is worth remembering.
So, we'll now have East BBC (St. Matthews), West BBC (Main St.) and South BBC (4th Street). If you can determine who owns which, let me know.
The way I understand the project, BBC's Jerry Gnagy will brew the beer in St. Matthews, while the Third Avenue Cafe will do the cooking. With a location on Theater Square, the new restaurant will be just south of the epicenter of 4th Street Live, Louisville's year-old, chain-dominated attempt to jumpstart downtown -- but just across from The Palace musical venue, which is worth remembering.
So, we'll now have East BBC (St. Matthews), West BBC (Main St.) and South BBC (4th Street). If you can determine who owns which, let me know.
Friday, March 04, 2005
New investors for BBC Brewing Company?
Bluegrass Brewing Company was founded in 1993.
BBC was, and remains, Louisville's signature microbrewery, with a track record under original brewmaster David Pierce second to none in the region, and with high marks nationally.
Unfortunately, the history of BBC, especially since 2002, is a lengthy book waiting to be written by a tireless researcher possessing a taste for hops, intrigue and controversy.
Like a nation-state cleaved by revolution, or more accurately, a married couple headed for divorce court, the concept known as "BBC" has gone through periods of seemingly endless turmoil, with each resting point of calm ending amid a new flurry of rumor and innuendo.
Fans as well as casual onlookers have scratched their heads.
They ... we ... just want the best possible beer. Can't we all just drink along?
At some point, BBC's off-premise BBC brewing arm in downtown Louisville became entirely independent of the brewpub location in the St. Matthews neighborhood.
Downtown, David continued brewing his recipes for bottling and kegging, while at the pub, Jerry Gnagy was hired to run the brewhouse there.
David's American Pale Ale remains Louisville's defining microbrew, while Jerry has crafted several inspired seasonals while keeping the standard house beers on line.
After months of uncertainty with respect to new investors for the BBC Brewing Company downtown, it is hoped that the corner has been turned. I'll let the Courier-Journal take it from here:
Group bargains for BBC: Investors negotiate to buy Louisville brewery, bottler, by David Goetz of the Louisville Courier-Journal.
(Link will be good for a week, maybe slightly more)
BBC was, and remains, Louisville's signature microbrewery, with a track record under original brewmaster David Pierce second to none in the region, and with high marks nationally.
Unfortunately, the history of BBC, especially since 2002, is a lengthy book waiting to be written by a tireless researcher possessing a taste for hops, intrigue and controversy.
Like a nation-state cleaved by revolution, or more accurately, a married couple headed for divorce court, the concept known as "BBC" has gone through periods of seemingly endless turmoil, with each resting point of calm ending amid a new flurry of rumor and innuendo.
Fans as well as casual onlookers have scratched their heads.
They ... we ... just want the best possible beer. Can't we all just drink along?
At some point, BBC's off-premise BBC brewing arm in downtown Louisville became entirely independent of the brewpub location in the St. Matthews neighborhood.
Downtown, David continued brewing his recipes for bottling and kegging, while at the pub, Jerry Gnagy was hired to run the brewhouse there.
David's American Pale Ale remains Louisville's defining microbrew, while Jerry has crafted several inspired seasonals while keeping the standard house beers on line.
After months of uncertainty with respect to new investors for the BBC Brewing Company downtown, it is hoped that the corner has been turned. I'll let the Courier-Journal take it from here:
Group bargains for BBC: Investors negotiate to buy Louisville brewery, bottler, by David Goetz of the Louisville Courier-Journal.
(Link will be good for a week, maybe slightly more)
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Sampling bottles from Brouwerij ‘t Ij, Amsterdam.
Amsterdam’s Brouwerij ‘t Ij ("eye") is an enigma.
The brewery and café are located in the base of an old windmill by a canal, and it is a good hike from the central train station. Management in general, and opening hours in particular, are eccentric, so it pays to call ahead.
My first visit was in 1998, and the house ales were assertive, clean and well made. Belgian styles obviously served as the starting point for the Ij’s formulas, but the brewery was unafraid to tweak them.
A year later, friends I trust sampled the Ij’s ales and found them infected and barely drinkable. Two years ago, a small shipment of bottles came to Rich O’s, and these, too, were on the funky side, though closer to the form I remembered than the descriptions given to me from 1999.
Improvement was again evident last year, when I spent a few days in nearby Haarlem.
Last week we received a case each of Scharrel IjWit, Natte, Zatte, Ijndejaars, Columbus and Struis. All are unfiltered and unpasteurized. I’ve sampled all except the Wit and Columbus … and they are uniformly excellent and highly recommended.
Natte is in the Belgian Dubbel range, chestnut brown, with hints of raisin and plum, and balanced at 6.5% abv.
Zatte mimics a Tripel. Tawny golden in color, with the honey-like fullness found in the yardstick Westmalle, perhaps slightly more restrained, and benefiting from alcohol notes (9% abv).
Ijndejaar is a winter seasonal, sandier in color than the Natte, but bigger (9% abv), eliciting fond memories of Belgian holiday ales and even the brawnier Danish Christmas and Easter lagers.
Struis is dark, deep and the answer to the question: What do you get when a Dutch microbrewer interprets a Belgian microbrewer imitating an English barley wine? Exuberant, yet still clean and crisp.
The unsampled Wit is a 7% abv organic wheat ale. That's enough alcohol to make it potentially interesting, although there's no further information on the brewery's bare-bones brewery web site. Coumbus has been sampled previously (and will be again when time permits!), and I seem to recall it as another Tripel variant, or perhaps Belgian-style unclassifiable "strong."
For an explanation of the Ij's origins, go to the web site of Shelton Brothers. With the assistance of contacts provided by Dan Shelton, I’m attempting to add a brewery tour to the fall trip in Netherlands and Belgium.
The brewery and café are located in the base of an old windmill by a canal, and it is a good hike from the central train station. Management in general, and opening hours in particular, are eccentric, so it pays to call ahead.
My first visit was in 1998, and the house ales were assertive, clean and well made. Belgian styles obviously served as the starting point for the Ij’s formulas, but the brewery was unafraid to tweak them.
A year later, friends I trust sampled the Ij’s ales and found them infected and barely drinkable. Two years ago, a small shipment of bottles came to Rich O’s, and these, too, were on the funky side, though closer to the form I remembered than the descriptions given to me from 1999.
Improvement was again evident last year, when I spent a few days in nearby Haarlem.
Last week we received a case each of Scharrel IjWit, Natte, Zatte, Ijndejaars, Columbus and Struis. All are unfiltered and unpasteurized. I’ve sampled all except the Wit and Columbus … and they are uniformly excellent and highly recommended.
Natte is in the Belgian Dubbel range, chestnut brown, with hints of raisin and plum, and balanced at 6.5% abv.
Zatte mimics a Tripel. Tawny golden in color, with the honey-like fullness found in the yardstick Westmalle, perhaps slightly more restrained, and benefiting from alcohol notes (9% abv).
Ijndejaar is a winter seasonal, sandier in color than the Natte, but bigger (9% abv), eliciting fond memories of Belgian holiday ales and even the brawnier Danish Christmas and Easter lagers.
Struis is dark, deep and the answer to the question: What do you get when a Dutch microbrewer interprets a Belgian microbrewer imitating an English barley wine? Exuberant, yet still clean and crisp.
The unsampled Wit is a 7% abv organic wheat ale. That's enough alcohol to make it potentially interesting, although there's no further information on the brewery's bare-bones brewery web site. Coumbus has been sampled previously (and will be again when time permits!), and I seem to recall it as another Tripel variant, or perhaps Belgian-style unclassifiable "strong."
For an explanation of the Ij's origins, go to the web site of Shelton Brothers. With the assistance of contacts provided by Dan Shelton, I’m attempting to add a brewery tour to the fall trip in Netherlands and Belgium.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Louisville's Baxter Station Bar & Grill for a meal and a pint.
A rare Friday evening out provided Diana and I the opportunity to see the Finn Brothers perform twice – first acoustically at the Ear-x-tasy on Bardstown Road in Louisville, then later on stage at Headliners Music Hall.
Between performances by the Finns, we adjourned to Baxter Station Bar & Grill for dinner and drinks.
Baxter Station remains one of Louisville’s finest independent, local bistros. Nestled in the heart of the Irish Hill neighborhood on Payne Street, it’s located in an old shotgun building that once was a grocery store and later a tavern, and now offers a pleasing brick ‘n’ beam ambience in which to enjoy dining that is a full notch or two above what one would expect from such a casual venue, plus excellent lists of beer, wine and bourbon.
Owner Andrew Hutto favors maltier microbrews (Goose Island Hex Nut, Great Lakes Dortmunder), but doesn’t neglect the hop in the form of drafts like Rogue Brutal Bitter and Anderson Valley Hop Ottin’ IPA.
Standard imports ranging from Guinness and Smithwick’s to Hoegaarden and Pilsner Urquell round out 20-plus tap choices.
Baxter Station’s food is unfailingly well prepared, combining elements of international flavor with familiar regional dishes like red beans and rice, crab cakes and fajita burritos.
Andrew currently is spearheading an effort called Louisville Originals, which is a cooperative venture of independent eateries designed to combine local resources against the encroachment of the chains. I couldn’t agree more with this strategy, and lament that Louisville’s brewery owners (myself among them) have not been able to duplicate such a project.
Baxter Station recently changed its hours, closing on Monday but opening on Sunday evenings. It is highly recommended.
Between performances by the Finns, we adjourned to Baxter Station Bar & Grill for dinner and drinks.
Baxter Station remains one of Louisville’s finest independent, local bistros. Nestled in the heart of the Irish Hill neighborhood on Payne Street, it’s located in an old shotgun building that once was a grocery store and later a tavern, and now offers a pleasing brick ‘n’ beam ambience in which to enjoy dining that is a full notch or two above what one would expect from such a casual venue, plus excellent lists of beer, wine and bourbon.
Owner Andrew Hutto favors maltier microbrews (Goose Island Hex Nut, Great Lakes Dortmunder), but doesn’t neglect the hop in the form of drafts like Rogue Brutal Bitter and Anderson Valley Hop Ottin’ IPA.
Standard imports ranging from Guinness and Smithwick’s to Hoegaarden and Pilsner Urquell round out 20-plus tap choices.
Baxter Station’s food is unfailingly well prepared, combining elements of international flavor with familiar regional dishes like red beans and rice, crab cakes and fajita burritos.
Andrew currently is spearheading an effort called Louisville Originals, which is a cooperative venture of independent eateries designed to combine local resources against the encroachment of the chains. I couldn’t agree more with this strategy, and lament that Louisville’s brewery owners (myself among them) have not been able to duplicate such a project.
Baxter Station recently changed its hours, closing on Monday but opening on Sunday evenings. It is highly recommended.
Gravity Head 2005 at Rich O's opens March 11.
On Friday, March 11, Rich O’s Public House again plays host to Gravity Head, the region’s foremost annual celebration of strong ales and lagers.
It will be the seventh edition of Gravity Head, a month-long draft beer festival that stands to last well into April, 2005.
As in previous editions, I've gathered 45 special kegs of the finest “big” beers in America and the world.
When the doors open at 1:00 p.m. on Friday, March 11, the first 15 Gravity Head selections for 2005 will be tapped. The rest will follow one at a time as the first wave disappears. Pricing and portion sizes vary according to alcohol content and style, but most will be available in 8- to 10-ounce pours.
Read the Gravity Head press release and beer list here.
It will be the seventh edition of Gravity Head, a month-long draft beer festival that stands to last well into April, 2005.
As in previous editions, I've gathered 45 special kegs of the finest “big” beers in America and the world.
When the doors open at 1:00 p.m. on Friday, March 11, the first 15 Gravity Head selections for 2005 will be tapped. The rest will follow one at a time as the first wave disappears. Pricing and portion sizes vary according to alcohol content and style, but most will be available in 8- to 10-ounce pours.
Read the Gravity Head press release and beer list here.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Founders Brewing Company enters the Indiana market.
Cavalier Distributing (Indianapolis) is about to introduce ales from Founders Brewing Company of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Happily, my newly appointed sales rep dropped off four different Founders brands, and I’m equally happy to report that each is well made and worthy of the growing reputation enjoyed by Michigan microbreweries.
The brewery began operations in 1997, and has an annual capacity in the range of 4,000 barrels. In Grand Rapids, there is a brewery taproom and live music on Tuesdays and Saturdays.
But I'm not in Grand Rapids. On to the bottles.
Founders Dry Hopped Pale Ale
American-style Pale Ale from the Cascades template, which is not to demean by any means. There is accomplished balance between the malt and hops, with a hint of lime defining the citrus character. Can Sierra Nevada’s yardstick Pale Ale be beaten by Founders’s price point? If not, it’s hard to imagine where this one fits, but I’ve been told that the half-barrel pricing actually is going to be below Sierra’s. Worth watching.
Founders Black Rye
“Dark ale” says the bottle, and “American Brown/Brown Porter” says the aroma of chocolate and a pleasantly roasted flavor that offers a tease of rye before yielding to a mild finishing hop bite. Rye possesses the potential to add an intriguing dimension to several conventional beer styles, with the problem being that brewers can’t use enough of it owing to the absence of a husk and subsequent problems with muddiness during the sparge. Strangely, this ale reminds me of what Pete’s Wicked Ale once thought it was, but wasn’t then, and is even less now.
Founders Centennial IPA
Reminiscent of Anderson Valley Hop Ottin’ IPA in the sense of body and an amber orange color, and now that Bell’s Two Hearted Ale has dropped a point in alcohol percentage (from just over 7% abv to 6% abv), and accordingly tastes lighter in the mouth, Founders has one of the better standard-gauge IPA’s to emerge from Michigan.
Founders Dirty Bastard Scotch Ale
The nose is malty sweet with perhaps a hint of peat, nothing more. Once again, an obvious respect for the virtues of balance has rounded the sweet malty edges with enough peat and hops to keep the ale from being cloying. A very credible imitation, lacking the fruity esters of British Isles yeast strains and vaguely burned toffee quality of the best classic Scotch Ales, but quite tasty for those preferring the sweet malt accent.
In summary
Of the four Founders ales sampled tonight, only the Dirty Bastard stands a chance of being added to the Rich O’s bottle list. Affordable and representative Scotch Ales are difficult to find, while even at a slightly more favorable price point, the Pale Ale and IPA would likely be lost in the shuffle at Rich O’s.
Black Rye is a toss-up; there’s not enough rye character to qualify as a rye specialty, but perhaps a space in the rotating bottle selection can be found. Again, price point is very important here. Only the Pale Ale is below 7% abv, but the other three brands, although quite well done, are not sufficiently “extreme” to challenge Stone or Three Floyds in straight flavor comparisons.
At the same time, they’re all good. It’s all a matter of finding the proper niche, package and price.
My guess is that these ales in bottles are better aimed at package stores and off-premise accounts.
Draft is another story. I’m told that the Pale Ale will be the first point of emphasis as Founders enters Indiana, with the possibility of special order draft following shortly afterwards. I can see devoting a tap to several brands of Founders, assuming I’m allowed to cherry-pick according to my preferences.
The brewery began operations in 1997, and has an annual capacity in the range of 4,000 barrels. In Grand Rapids, there is a brewery taproom and live music on Tuesdays and Saturdays.
But I'm not in Grand Rapids. On to the bottles.
Founders Dry Hopped Pale Ale
American-style Pale Ale from the Cascades template, which is not to demean by any means. There is accomplished balance between the malt and hops, with a hint of lime defining the citrus character. Can Sierra Nevada’s yardstick Pale Ale be beaten by Founders’s price point? If not, it’s hard to imagine where this one fits, but I’ve been told that the half-barrel pricing actually is going to be below Sierra’s. Worth watching.
Founders Black Rye
“Dark ale” says the bottle, and “American Brown/Brown Porter” says the aroma of chocolate and a pleasantly roasted flavor that offers a tease of rye before yielding to a mild finishing hop bite. Rye possesses the potential to add an intriguing dimension to several conventional beer styles, with the problem being that brewers can’t use enough of it owing to the absence of a husk and subsequent problems with muddiness during the sparge. Strangely, this ale reminds me of what Pete’s Wicked Ale once thought it was, but wasn’t then, and is even less now.
Founders Centennial IPA
Reminiscent of Anderson Valley Hop Ottin’ IPA in the sense of body and an amber orange color, and now that Bell’s Two Hearted Ale has dropped a point in alcohol percentage (from just over 7% abv to 6% abv), and accordingly tastes lighter in the mouth, Founders has one of the better standard-gauge IPA’s to emerge from Michigan.
Founders Dirty Bastard Scotch Ale
The nose is malty sweet with perhaps a hint of peat, nothing more. Once again, an obvious respect for the virtues of balance has rounded the sweet malty edges with enough peat and hops to keep the ale from being cloying. A very credible imitation, lacking the fruity esters of British Isles yeast strains and vaguely burned toffee quality of the best classic Scotch Ales, but quite tasty for those preferring the sweet malt accent.
In summary
Of the four Founders ales sampled tonight, only the Dirty Bastard stands a chance of being added to the Rich O’s bottle list. Affordable and representative Scotch Ales are difficult to find, while even at a slightly more favorable price point, the Pale Ale and IPA would likely be lost in the shuffle at Rich O’s.
Black Rye is a toss-up; there’s not enough rye character to qualify as a rye specialty, but perhaps a space in the rotating bottle selection can be found. Again, price point is very important here. Only the Pale Ale is below 7% abv, but the other three brands, although quite well done, are not sufficiently “extreme” to challenge Stone or Three Floyds in straight flavor comparisons.
At the same time, they’re all good. It’s all a matter of finding the proper niche, package and price.
My guess is that these ales in bottles are better aimed at package stores and off-premise accounts.
Draft is another story. I’m told that the Pale Ale will be the first point of emphasis as Founders enters Indiana, with the possibility of special order draft following shortly afterwards. I can see devoting a tap to several brands of Founders, assuming I’m allowed to cherry-pick according to my preferences.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
A-B’s Bare Knuckle Stout topples Guinness at Hooter's.
During a pleasure trip to St. Louis in June, 2004, I visited the Anheuser-Busch brewery for the first time ever. My good friend Jay came along for a “V.I.P. Tour” arranged by Tim at North Vernon Beverage Co., who earnestly pleaded with me to “not say anything bad.”
Not to worry, Tim.
At the conclusion of the hour-long tour, which was predictably laden with sugary hagiography and sheer statistical overload, we were allowed to have three beers as a reward.
These were served from the tap in heavy-duty throwaway plastic drinking vessels with the consistency of glass.
I sampled Budweiser (my first in a decade), Amber Bock (“stamp out and eliminate redundancy”) and A-B’s newest contribution to world brewing culture, Bare Knuckle Stout.
As for the former, well, the best any ordinary lager beer can be is pouring from the tap at its place of birth.
Drinking Amber Bock, I was reminded that when the factory in Louisville that supplies food-grade red dye shut down temporarily due to an explosion, A-B common stock nudged down.
Dry and creamy, nitro-infused, the Bare Knuckle Stout seemed a credible, if thin and indistinct, imitation of Guinness. Served blind, I’d guess it to be a microbrewed stout, and a decent one. Nothing more, nothing less.
At the time, sitting in the A-B hospitality room, I lectured the earnest young summer intern tour guide: Will brand-loyal Guinness drinkers drink Bare Knuckle under any circumstance? Will the price point have to be lower to coerce them? Given that Bud and Michelob Ultra drinkers are unlikely to trade up, then who’ll buy the new beer?
It’s now winter, 2005, and A-B’s Bare Knuckle Stout has arrived in the Southern Indiana market. We begin to see the giant brewer’s marketing methodology.
As a “jump ball,” my friend and regular customer Dave sent the following note:
“My cousin has confirmed that Hooters in Jeffersonville is indeed charging the same price to customers for Bare Knuckle as they did for Guinness.”
That’s right. First, Bare Knuckle actually replaced Guinness at Hooter’s, which leads one to speculate on the nature of, ahem, incentives offered above or below board.
Then, even more bizarrely, the price point for Bare Knuckle is the same. You’d expect to see a lower price as an introduction, then an escalation once the hook is set.
Is it profiteering?
Quite some time back, when Foster’s Lager for the American market first ceased to be brewed in Australia, retailers were told pointedly that the brand’s transplanted home in Canada meant that (a) Foster’s still was “imported,” (b) that consequently the wholesale price would be less than when it was imported from Australia, (c) the same price as before could be charged the consumer, and (d) “Foster’s is Australian for Beer.”
Of these premises, (a), (b) and (c) were true, but (d) was and remains false.
Actually, much to my surprise, a quick phone call to L. C. Nadorff, New Albany’s A-B house, reveals that Bare Knuckle is available only in 1/6 barrel kegs (5.16 gallon). Factored for unit size, the wholesale price is almost exactly the same as for Guinness.
What does this mean? I’m baffled. It’s true that 1/6 kegs are easier to handle for retailers and require no special tap fitting, but without a lower price point, little of it makes sense.
Back to the “incentive” program, anyone?
Not to worry, Tim.
At the conclusion of the hour-long tour, which was predictably laden with sugary hagiography and sheer statistical overload, we were allowed to have three beers as a reward.
These were served from the tap in heavy-duty throwaway plastic drinking vessels with the consistency of glass.
I sampled Budweiser (my first in a decade), Amber Bock (“stamp out and eliminate redundancy”) and A-B’s newest contribution to world brewing culture, Bare Knuckle Stout.
As for the former, well, the best any ordinary lager beer can be is pouring from the tap at its place of birth.
Drinking Amber Bock, I was reminded that when the factory in Louisville that supplies food-grade red dye shut down temporarily due to an explosion, A-B common stock nudged down.
Dry and creamy, nitro-infused, the Bare Knuckle Stout seemed a credible, if thin and indistinct, imitation of Guinness. Served blind, I’d guess it to be a microbrewed stout, and a decent one. Nothing more, nothing less.
At the time, sitting in the A-B hospitality room, I lectured the earnest young summer intern tour guide: Will brand-loyal Guinness drinkers drink Bare Knuckle under any circumstance? Will the price point have to be lower to coerce them? Given that Bud and Michelob Ultra drinkers are unlikely to trade up, then who’ll buy the new beer?
It’s now winter, 2005, and A-B’s Bare Knuckle Stout has arrived in the Southern Indiana market. We begin to see the giant brewer’s marketing methodology.
As a “jump ball,” my friend and regular customer Dave sent the following note:
“My cousin has confirmed that Hooters in Jeffersonville is indeed charging the same price to customers for Bare Knuckle as they did for Guinness.”
That’s right. First, Bare Knuckle actually replaced Guinness at Hooter’s, which leads one to speculate on the nature of, ahem, incentives offered above or below board.
Then, even more bizarrely, the price point for Bare Knuckle is the same. You’d expect to see a lower price as an introduction, then an escalation once the hook is set.
Is it profiteering?
Quite some time back, when Foster’s Lager for the American market first ceased to be brewed in Australia, retailers were told pointedly that the brand’s transplanted home in Canada meant that (a) Foster’s still was “imported,” (b) that consequently the wholesale price would be less than when it was imported from Australia, (c) the same price as before could be charged the consumer, and (d) “Foster’s is Australian for Beer.”
Of these premises, (a), (b) and (c) were true, but (d) was and remains false.
Actually, much to my surprise, a quick phone call to L. C. Nadorff, New Albany’s A-B house, reveals that Bare Knuckle is available only in 1/6 barrel kegs (5.16 gallon). Factored for unit size, the wholesale price is almost exactly the same as for Guinness.
What does this mean? I’m baffled. It’s true that 1/6 kegs are easier to handle for retailers and require no special tap fitting, but without a lower price point, little of it makes sense.
Back to the “incentive” program, anyone?
Sunday, February 20, 2005
First Call: Belgium and Netherlands Beer Tour, 2005.
It’s 2005, year of the triennial Poperinge hop fest, and time for another joyful immersion into Belgian beer, cuisine and culture.
Once again, I’m organizing a group tour, our eighth European beer-hunting excursion since 1995, and the first under the banner of Potable Curmudgeon, Inc., my new consulting and travel company.
The same great experience is at hand. The tour dates are September 8 – 20, 2005, and all friends, beer lovers, customers, FOSSILS club members, and adventure seekers are invited to make the trip.
Please contact me if you’re interested. Participants are limited to 22, and it’s first come, first served.
Roger A. Baylor/Potable Curmudgeon, Inc.
roger@potablecurmudgeon.com
812.949.2804
Here’s a brief chronological overview:
ITINERARY
AMSTERDAM & HAARLEM
Both the old and the new Netherlands. Our lodging will be in Haarlem, and Amsterdam is minutes away by train.
BRUGGE (BRUGES)
One of the most beautiful cities in Europe, with beer cafes aplenty, including ‘t Brugs Beertje (Daisy’s place), where we’ll enjoy a guided tasting.
LAMBIC LAND
Learn about spontaneously-fermented ale where it is brewed, with visits to Lindemans and the Drie Fonteinen restaurant, brewery and lambic blending house.
HOUFFALIZE
Ardennes scenery, food and beer. Tours of Achouffe and Fantome, and an excursion to the Battle of the Bulge museum in Bastogne.
HAINAUT BREWERY PICNIC
The Wallonian countryside and farmhouse ale are synonymous. We’ll revel in both.
IEPER
Restored medieval guild city & Great War heritage center, our base for West Flanders.
WEST FLANDERS MOTORIZED PUB CRAWL
Classic sites of Belgian beer culture like Dolle Brouwers and Westvletern’s Café de Vrede.
POPERINGE HOP FESTIVAL
Absolutely charming small-town celebration, with a parade that features the entire community and ample portions of local and regional ales.
BRUSSELS
Belgian capital & center of European integration.
LAND AND AIR PRICES
The land-only price for the trip will be $1,975.00, and it includes:
¨ Motor coach & escort.
¨ Excellent hotels.
¨ All breakfasts.
¨ Brewery tours.
¨ One evening meal.
¨ Guided beer tastings.
¨ Most sightseeing.
¨ All service charges.
Note: The price for the land portion is based on double occupancy of rooms; a single supplement must be paid by solo travelers.
As in the past, flying arrangements will be handled by Mary Pat Bliss at Bliss Travel in New Albany. It is expected that airfare from Louisville to Amsterdam, and from Brussels back to Louisville, will cost in the range of $850. You may purchase the group flying option through Bliss Travel, or make travel plans on your own.
SOME TRIP LINKS
***Airports
Louisville International
Schiphol (Amsterdam)
Zaventem (Brussels)
***Breweries/Cafes
‘t Arendsnest (Amsterdam)
‘Ij Brewery (Amsterdam)
‘t Brugs Beertje
Drie (3) Fountains
Achouffe
Fantome
Dolle Brouwers
Hop festival in Poperinge
***City guides
Amsterdam
Haarlem
Brugge
Houffalize (only in French and Dutch)
Ieper
Poperinge
Brussels
***Hotels
Sept. 9, 10: Hotel Amadeus, Haarlem
Sept. 11, 12: Hotel Karos, Brugge
Sept. 13, 14, 15: Hotel du Commerce, Houffalize
Sept. 16, 17, 18: Flanders Lodge, Ieper
Sept. 19: Hotel Vendome, Brussels
Once again, I’m organizing a group tour, our eighth European beer-hunting excursion since 1995, and the first under the banner of Potable Curmudgeon, Inc., my new consulting and travel company.
The same great experience is at hand. The tour dates are September 8 – 20, 2005, and all friends, beer lovers, customers, FOSSILS club members, and adventure seekers are invited to make the trip.
Please contact me if you’re interested. Participants are limited to 22, and it’s first come, first served.
Roger A. Baylor/Potable Curmudgeon, Inc.
roger@potablecurmudgeon.com
812.949.2804
Here’s a brief chronological overview:
ITINERARY
AMSTERDAM & HAARLEM
Both the old and the new Netherlands. Our lodging will be in Haarlem, and Amsterdam is minutes away by train.
BRUGGE (BRUGES)
One of the most beautiful cities in Europe, with beer cafes aplenty, including ‘t Brugs Beertje (Daisy’s place), where we’ll enjoy a guided tasting.
LAMBIC LAND
Learn about spontaneously-fermented ale where it is brewed, with visits to Lindemans and the Drie Fonteinen restaurant, brewery and lambic blending house.
HOUFFALIZE
Ardennes scenery, food and beer. Tours of Achouffe and Fantome, and an excursion to the Battle of the Bulge museum in Bastogne.
HAINAUT BREWERY PICNIC
The Wallonian countryside and farmhouse ale are synonymous. We’ll revel in both.
IEPER
Restored medieval guild city & Great War heritage center, our base for West Flanders.
WEST FLANDERS MOTORIZED PUB CRAWL
Classic sites of Belgian beer culture like Dolle Brouwers and Westvletern’s Café de Vrede.
POPERINGE HOP FESTIVAL
Absolutely charming small-town celebration, with a parade that features the entire community and ample portions of local and regional ales.
BRUSSELS
Belgian capital & center of European integration.
LAND AND AIR PRICES
The land-only price for the trip will be $1,975.00, and it includes:
¨ Motor coach & escort.
¨ Excellent hotels.
¨ All breakfasts.
¨ Brewery tours.
¨ One evening meal.
¨ Guided beer tastings.
¨ Most sightseeing.
¨ All service charges.
Note: The price for the land portion is based on double occupancy of rooms; a single supplement must be paid by solo travelers.
As in the past, flying arrangements will be handled by Mary Pat Bliss at Bliss Travel in New Albany. It is expected that airfare from Louisville to Amsterdam, and from Brussels back to Louisville, will cost in the range of $850. You may purchase the group flying option through Bliss Travel, or make travel plans on your own.
SOME TRIP LINKS
***Airports
Louisville International
Schiphol (Amsterdam)
Zaventem (Brussels)
***Breweries/Cafes
‘t Arendsnest (Amsterdam)
‘Ij Brewery (Amsterdam)
‘t Brugs Beertje
Drie (3) Fountains
Achouffe
Fantome
Dolle Brouwers
Hop festival in Poperinge
***City guides
Amsterdam
Haarlem
Brugge
Houffalize (only in French and Dutch)
Ieper
Poperinge
Brussels
***Hotels
Sept. 9, 10: Hotel Amadeus, Haarlem
Sept. 11, 12: Hotel Karos, Brugge
Sept. 13, 14, 15: Hotel du Commerce, Houffalize
Sept. 16, 17, 18: Flanders Lodge, Ieper
Sept. 19: Hotel Vendome, Brussels
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
When “Some” About Beer Simply Won’t Do: The Sins of "All About Beer."
This article originally was published in early 2004.
In February, 2005, a press release arrived heralding the return of Daniel Bradford to the "Some About Beer" family business, his previous position as head of the Brewers' Association of America having disappeared when it was merged with Association of Brewers to yield the Brewers Association. It's too early to tell whether this means anything. Stay tuned.
~~~
‘Round here, in the Curmudgeonly lair formerly occupied by Dick Cheney, we no longer subscribe to the beer magazine formerly known as “All About Beer.”
Instead, we’ve bestowed a new name on the publication: “Some About Beer.” With principled firmness, we’ve refrained from paying its yearly tithe. With relaxed contentment, we’re electing to consult the regional pages of the various “Brewing News” print publications when in need of comprehensive information about beer and brewing.
We feel much better already.
It may come as a surprise to some, but the Curmudgeon does more than drink and think beer. For him, the mother language is important.
Words have specific meanings, and are used for specific purposes. As an example, for one to have “all” of something, one must possess the complete and whole quantity of it. Anything else, and one has only some of it – not all.
Therefore, it is inaccurate and misleading to suggest “all” when what one really means is “some,” or when obvious evidence exists to validate the observation that the entire quantity is in fact absent.
Hence, the magazine’s change of names. If “All About Beer” doesn’t include the entire quantity, then it isn’t “all” about beer any longer.
No, not at all.
To be sure, at its best, “Some About Beer” can be very good. Contributing writers generally include heavyweights like Michael Jackson, Fred Eckhardt and Roger Protz. Our friend Stan Hieronymus used to contribute wonderful “Beer Travelers” essays. Another friend, “Beer Dave” Gausepohl, currently writes about breweriana. Although the immediacy of the Internet has diminished “Some About Beer’s” value as a timely purveyor of beer and brewing minutia, it remains a good place to begin an examination of the beer writer’s craft.
On the other hand …
Ominously, “Some About Beer” also is the same publication that for several years has featured the infamous “Buyer’s Guide” centerfold. The Buyer’s Guide is billed as an blind, objective comparison of marketplace beers from America and the World, conducted by the vaguely tri-partite-sounding Beverage Tasting Institute in Chicago.
However, to read the BTI’s beer reviews in “Some About Beer” is to revisit the lost halcyon world of Soviet social propaganda, wherein a perfect society awaits the visitor – or, to echo the long forgotten Ray Stevens, where “everything is beautiful, in its own way.” BTI awards a failing grade as often as NBA commentator Bill Walton utters coherent analysis … as often as Anheuser-Busch tells the truth about Budvar … as often as Radiohead makes a bad album.
Which is to say, damned seldom.
The not-so-shocking reason for this is that the Beverage Tasting Institute’s real reason for being is to make a profit from its services. The BTI charges brewers and importers a fee to submit beers for professional judging, then gives the donors their money’s worth by reviewing a stupefyingly large percentage of these beers positively.
Everyone claps hands in a circle, dines on sherbet, sugar cookies and lemonade, is assigned feel-good participation “championship” medals designed to dupe the public into believing that genuine merit somehow comes attached to what is otherwise a shameful spectacle of irrelevance, and watches as the sham results go straight into “Some About Beer” as paid advertising – month after month, year after year.
So much for full employment, equal opportunity and civil rights in Donetsk.
Bear in mind that I don’t doubt the blindness of the tasters, just the benign nature of a scoring system designed not to offend producers who paid good money to submit to it. It is worth noting that rumors persist that the process is prone to hands-on corruption after the fact, but these stories need not be referenced to assemble a strong case that the Beverage Tasting Institute and its judging process both are jokes.
Indeed, all this would be as laughable as class-system high school basketball if not for the pretentiousness with which one and all, from BTI to “Some About Beer,” insists on treating a demonstration of back-scratching chicanery more in keeping with an paper-mache exhibit in P. T. Barnum’s museum of grotesque oddities than a beer magazine espousing credibility.
I seem to have digressed. Alas, it is likely to happen again.
“Hell, we serve all the beers – Miller, Bud and Coors.”
Since the New Albanian Brewing Company has no intention of paying someone to be told what we already know – that our beer is good – the ensuing feeling of liberation is such that other flagrant editorial flaws with “Some About Beer” can be explored, an example being the magazine’s January 2004 issue (Vol. 24, No. 6).
For obvious reasons, my immediate attention was drawn to a feature article entitled “Brilliant Beer Bars: Where Everybody Knows Your Name.” In it, 70 luminaries described by the magazine as “writers, industry professionals and beer lovers” were asked for the names of their favorite beer bars, both in their hometowns, and elsewhere in places they’ve visited.
In the final tally, only 28 states out of 50 were represented in the article. Six multi-tap, multi-state chains pubs were mentioned. Six other countries outside the United States also found their way onto the list.
An opening disclaimer warned that the list should not be considered comprehensive, which begged the question of why it would be of any value other than as a cheap, easy tease to casual readers. Actually, “Some About Beer’s” editor, Julie Bradford, subsequently echoed this underachieving assessment in e-mail to the Curmudgeon.
Members of the general reading public enjoy fluffy lists, cooed Bradford before logging off to deposit another BTI check and assemble another fluffy list.
Still … how could the beer-crazy state of Michigan, possessor of the most vibrant microbrewing culture in the Midwest, be entirely omitted from such a collection? What about Bell’s Eccentric Café and Kraftbrau, both in Kalamazoo, and right across the street from each other?
Staring at this piece of random selectivity from a magazine bearing an official title that alleges completeness, I suddenly felt a stinging slap to the face. Neither the state of Indiana, nor Rich O’s Public House, was to be found on the list of brilliant beer bars. What about the BW3 in downtown Indianapolis? Chalkie’s on Indy’s northside? Herot in Muncie?
Kentucky? Also omitted.
“All” about beer? Hardly.
Several e-mails have been exchanged with Bradford, whose attitude might be summarized as exasperated flippancy. She has defended the “brilliant beer bar” article, the BTI ratings and subsequent adulatory drivel on the topic of low-carb beers as the sort of editorial content beloved by readers.
Lowest common denominator, anyone?
Bradford has offered a dizzying array of semantic thrusts and attempted exculpatory feints, ultimately arriving at a rhetorical shrug: Gee, why would any of this upset someone – after all, it’s just something used to sell magazines, eh?
Somewhere in the distant Rockies I can almost hear “Some About Beer” contributor Charlie “Empire – What Empire?” Papazian chiming in by reminding me to relax and have a homebrew.
The shameless mercantilist Papazian notwithstanding, the problem is that I can’t relax when I’ve been slighted, intentionally or otherwise. I believe the proper word to describe this root motive is “pride.”
Look at it this way.
In spite of my conceptual differences with Julie Bradford, I’m sure that she is fiercely proud of the work she does at the magazine. However, the simple act of empathy seems beyond her personal or journalistic range. She might feel differently if the roles were reversed.
If a major newspaper offered a survey of beer magazines and did not include “Some About Beer,” I’m sure that Julie Bradford would feel exactly the same hurt and annoyance that I did when her magazine failed to include Rich O’s in its listing of brilliant beer bars. I’m sure she would complain to the newspaper, just as I have to her.
Only then, perhaps, would she be able to comprehend. After 12 years of hard work devoted to building a good beer bar in a geographical vicinity where good beer used to be as common as vegetarians lunching on picnic tables by the rendering line at a packing plant, and having succeeded, to be snubbed by people who should know better is a personal insult, plain and simple.
Hell hath no fury like a Publican scorned.
Those who remain ignorant of good beer are excused, but those deriving their livelihoods from good beer have no excuse. Besides, bemused and condescending powerlessness is unbecoming a person who bears ultimate responsibility.
Note to Julie Bradford: By definition, editors are responsible. Did you get that memo?
The myriad joys of divorce.
A few weeks back I received my annual subscription renewal letter from “Some About Beer,” and I took this wonderful opportunity to formally sever my ties with the house organ of haphazard editorial content and “buy a medal” beer rankings.
My e-mail to circulation chief Natalie Abernethy read:
“Some weeks back, I expressed a desire to terminate my subscription to 'Some About Beer' in light of the magazine's inability (or perhaps unwillingness) to publish complete, factual articles, and the inability (or unwillingness) of it editor to understand why this rather annoying and flippant tendency is a problem for people like me who work damned hard and expect to recognized for it in a responsive and responsible journalistic fashion. If ever the magazine actually reverts to truly being 'all about beer,' then I'll be back. Until then, don't spend all those insipid 'beverage tasting payola institute' ad checks in one place, and please stop sending 'Some About Beer' to me.”
Julie Bradford’s response was quick:
“Thanks for your courteous and thoughtful message. We always enjoy hearing from you. We're glad you work damned hard. I'm sure your customers appreciate it, and no doubt you will receive the recognition you expect. Now that she has your information, Ms Abernethy will be happy to terminate your subscription. I look forward to your someday finding our publication worth reading once again.”
Meanwhile, Abernethy wrote to confirm our new business relationship:
“Thank you very much for your email. I will take care of canceling your subscription for you. Your subscription is expiring with our June/July issue, which you will still receive because mail data has already been sent to our printer. So, if you wish to not receive All About Beer anymore just ignore the renewal information you are sent.
“I have also taken the liberty of removing you from our Brewpub Finder online since you do want any affiliation with All About Beer.
“Please let me know if I can be of any help in the future. We are always here for all people in the brewing community. Have a great day!”
Humbled and impressed by Abernethy’s crisp tone of efficiency, I mailed this to Bradford:
“In her prompt response to my message, ‘Some About Beer's’ Natalie Abernethy added:
‘I have also taken the liberty of removing you from our Brewpub Finder online since you do want any affiliation with All About Beer.’
“Blushingly, I stand corrected: At least one person in your organization detects merit in being thorough about something. She should be promoted.”
Bradford hasn’t written back.
Interestingly, her husband Daniel, who serves as “Some About Beer’s” publisher and also finds time to run the Brewers’ Association of America, a trade group for small brewers, recently conferred with Julie Grelle of the Brewers of Indiana Guild as to the importance of Indiana microbrewers to be members of the national organization.
Funny, I didn’t realize the Bradford family knew that Indiana existed.
You certainly wouldn’t know it by reading “Some About Beer.”
In February, 2005, a press release arrived heralding the return of Daniel Bradford to the "Some About Beer" family business, his previous position as head of the Brewers' Association of America having disappeared when it was merged with Association of Brewers to yield the Brewers Association. It's too early to tell whether this means anything. Stay tuned.
~~~
‘Round here, in the Curmudgeonly lair formerly occupied by Dick Cheney, we no longer subscribe to the beer magazine formerly known as “All About Beer.”
Instead, we’ve bestowed a new name on the publication: “Some About Beer.” With principled firmness, we’ve refrained from paying its yearly tithe. With relaxed contentment, we’re electing to consult the regional pages of the various “Brewing News” print publications when in need of comprehensive information about beer and brewing.
We feel much better already.
It may come as a surprise to some, but the Curmudgeon does more than drink and think beer. For him, the mother language is important.
Words have specific meanings, and are used for specific purposes. As an example, for one to have “all” of something, one must possess the complete and whole quantity of it. Anything else, and one has only some of it – not all.
Therefore, it is inaccurate and misleading to suggest “all” when what one really means is “some,” or when obvious evidence exists to validate the observation that the entire quantity is in fact absent.
Hence, the magazine’s change of names. If “All About Beer” doesn’t include the entire quantity, then it isn’t “all” about beer any longer.
No, not at all.
To be sure, at its best, “Some About Beer” can be very good. Contributing writers generally include heavyweights like Michael Jackson, Fred Eckhardt and Roger Protz. Our friend Stan Hieronymus used to contribute wonderful “Beer Travelers” essays. Another friend, “Beer Dave” Gausepohl, currently writes about breweriana. Although the immediacy of the Internet has diminished “Some About Beer’s” value as a timely purveyor of beer and brewing minutia, it remains a good place to begin an examination of the beer writer’s craft.
On the other hand …
Ominously, “Some About Beer” also is the same publication that for several years has featured the infamous “Buyer’s Guide” centerfold. The Buyer’s Guide is billed as an blind, objective comparison of marketplace beers from America and the World, conducted by the vaguely tri-partite-sounding Beverage Tasting Institute in Chicago.
However, to read the BTI’s beer reviews in “Some About Beer” is to revisit the lost halcyon world of Soviet social propaganda, wherein a perfect society awaits the visitor – or, to echo the long forgotten Ray Stevens, where “everything is beautiful, in its own way.” BTI awards a failing grade as often as NBA commentator Bill Walton utters coherent analysis … as often as Anheuser-Busch tells the truth about Budvar … as often as Radiohead makes a bad album.
Which is to say, damned seldom.
The not-so-shocking reason for this is that the Beverage Tasting Institute’s real reason for being is to make a profit from its services. The BTI charges brewers and importers a fee to submit beers for professional judging, then gives the donors their money’s worth by reviewing a stupefyingly large percentage of these beers positively.
Everyone claps hands in a circle, dines on sherbet, sugar cookies and lemonade, is assigned feel-good participation “championship” medals designed to dupe the public into believing that genuine merit somehow comes attached to what is otherwise a shameful spectacle of irrelevance, and watches as the sham results go straight into “Some About Beer” as paid advertising – month after month, year after year.
So much for full employment, equal opportunity and civil rights in Donetsk.
Bear in mind that I don’t doubt the blindness of the tasters, just the benign nature of a scoring system designed not to offend producers who paid good money to submit to it. It is worth noting that rumors persist that the process is prone to hands-on corruption after the fact, but these stories need not be referenced to assemble a strong case that the Beverage Tasting Institute and its judging process both are jokes.
Indeed, all this would be as laughable as class-system high school basketball if not for the pretentiousness with which one and all, from BTI to “Some About Beer,” insists on treating a demonstration of back-scratching chicanery more in keeping with an paper-mache exhibit in P. T. Barnum’s museum of grotesque oddities than a beer magazine espousing credibility.
I seem to have digressed. Alas, it is likely to happen again.
“Hell, we serve all the beers – Miller, Bud and Coors.”
Since the New Albanian Brewing Company has no intention of paying someone to be told what we already know – that our beer is good – the ensuing feeling of liberation is such that other flagrant editorial flaws with “Some About Beer” can be explored, an example being the magazine’s January 2004 issue (Vol. 24, No. 6).
For obvious reasons, my immediate attention was drawn to a feature article entitled “Brilliant Beer Bars: Where Everybody Knows Your Name.” In it, 70 luminaries described by the magazine as “writers, industry professionals and beer lovers” were asked for the names of their favorite beer bars, both in their hometowns, and elsewhere in places they’ve visited.
In the final tally, only 28 states out of 50 were represented in the article. Six multi-tap, multi-state chains pubs were mentioned. Six other countries outside the United States also found their way onto the list.
An opening disclaimer warned that the list should not be considered comprehensive, which begged the question of why it would be of any value other than as a cheap, easy tease to casual readers. Actually, “Some About Beer’s” editor, Julie Bradford, subsequently echoed this underachieving assessment in e-mail to the Curmudgeon.
Members of the general reading public enjoy fluffy lists, cooed Bradford before logging off to deposit another BTI check and assemble another fluffy list.
Still … how could the beer-crazy state of Michigan, possessor of the most vibrant microbrewing culture in the Midwest, be entirely omitted from such a collection? What about Bell’s Eccentric Café and Kraftbrau, both in Kalamazoo, and right across the street from each other?
Staring at this piece of random selectivity from a magazine bearing an official title that alleges completeness, I suddenly felt a stinging slap to the face. Neither the state of Indiana, nor Rich O’s Public House, was to be found on the list of brilliant beer bars. What about the BW3 in downtown Indianapolis? Chalkie’s on Indy’s northside? Herot in Muncie?
Kentucky? Also omitted.
“All” about beer? Hardly.
Several e-mails have been exchanged with Bradford, whose attitude might be summarized as exasperated flippancy. She has defended the “brilliant beer bar” article, the BTI ratings and subsequent adulatory drivel on the topic of low-carb beers as the sort of editorial content beloved by readers.
Lowest common denominator, anyone?
Bradford has offered a dizzying array of semantic thrusts and attempted exculpatory feints, ultimately arriving at a rhetorical shrug: Gee, why would any of this upset someone – after all, it’s just something used to sell magazines, eh?
Somewhere in the distant Rockies I can almost hear “Some About Beer” contributor Charlie “Empire – What Empire?” Papazian chiming in by reminding me to relax and have a homebrew.
The shameless mercantilist Papazian notwithstanding, the problem is that I can’t relax when I’ve been slighted, intentionally or otherwise. I believe the proper word to describe this root motive is “pride.”
Look at it this way.
In spite of my conceptual differences with Julie Bradford, I’m sure that she is fiercely proud of the work she does at the magazine. However, the simple act of empathy seems beyond her personal or journalistic range. She might feel differently if the roles were reversed.
If a major newspaper offered a survey of beer magazines and did not include “Some About Beer,” I’m sure that Julie Bradford would feel exactly the same hurt and annoyance that I did when her magazine failed to include Rich O’s in its listing of brilliant beer bars. I’m sure she would complain to the newspaper, just as I have to her.
Only then, perhaps, would she be able to comprehend. After 12 years of hard work devoted to building a good beer bar in a geographical vicinity where good beer used to be as common as vegetarians lunching on picnic tables by the rendering line at a packing plant, and having succeeded, to be snubbed by people who should know better is a personal insult, plain and simple.
Hell hath no fury like a Publican scorned.
Those who remain ignorant of good beer are excused, but those deriving their livelihoods from good beer have no excuse. Besides, bemused and condescending powerlessness is unbecoming a person who bears ultimate responsibility.
Note to Julie Bradford: By definition, editors are responsible. Did you get that memo?
The myriad joys of divorce.
A few weeks back I received my annual subscription renewal letter from “Some About Beer,” and I took this wonderful opportunity to formally sever my ties with the house organ of haphazard editorial content and “buy a medal” beer rankings.
My e-mail to circulation chief Natalie Abernethy read:
“Some weeks back, I expressed a desire to terminate my subscription to 'Some About Beer' in light of the magazine's inability (or perhaps unwillingness) to publish complete, factual articles, and the inability (or unwillingness) of it editor to understand why this rather annoying and flippant tendency is a problem for people like me who work damned hard and expect to recognized for it in a responsive and responsible journalistic fashion. If ever the magazine actually reverts to truly being 'all about beer,' then I'll be back. Until then, don't spend all those insipid 'beverage tasting payola institute' ad checks in one place, and please stop sending 'Some About Beer' to me.”
Julie Bradford’s response was quick:
“Thanks for your courteous and thoughtful message. We always enjoy hearing from you. We're glad you work damned hard. I'm sure your customers appreciate it, and no doubt you will receive the recognition you expect. Now that she has your information, Ms Abernethy will be happy to terminate your subscription. I look forward to your someday finding our publication worth reading once again.”
Meanwhile, Abernethy wrote to confirm our new business relationship:
“Thank you very much for your email. I will take care of canceling your subscription for you. Your subscription is expiring with our June/July issue, which you will still receive because mail data has already been sent to our printer. So, if you wish to not receive All About Beer anymore just ignore the renewal information you are sent.
“I have also taken the liberty of removing you from our Brewpub Finder online since you do want any affiliation with All About Beer.
“Please let me know if I can be of any help in the future. We are always here for all people in the brewing community. Have a great day!”
Humbled and impressed by Abernethy’s crisp tone of efficiency, I mailed this to Bradford:
“In her prompt response to my message, ‘Some About Beer's’ Natalie Abernethy added:
‘I have also taken the liberty of removing you from our Brewpub Finder online since you do want any affiliation with All About Beer.’
“Blushingly, I stand corrected: At least one person in your organization detects merit in being thorough about something. She should be promoted.”
Bradford hasn’t written back.
Interestingly, her husband Daniel, who serves as “Some About Beer’s” publisher and also finds time to run the Brewers’ Association of America, a trade group for small brewers, recently conferred with Julie Grelle of the Brewers of Indiana Guild as to the importance of Indiana microbrewers to be members of the national organization.
Funny, I didn’t realize the Bradford family knew that Indiana existed.
You certainly wouldn’t know it by reading “Some About Beer.”
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