posted on 1 July 2009 by dan
Yesterday brought with it two singular excitements: Tony and I undertook Boozy Milkshake Day Part II and George, an esteemed dT alum, popped over to my house for a bit. What with this being the beer blog and with the spirits blog being a whole separate blog, I’m going to leave the story of boozy milkshakes to Tony. The George-bit has more to do beer, so therein we find our subject. B.G. on George: he left our ranks a little over a year ago for UCLA law school; in town again for a wedding, he called us up for a bit of a reunion, “bearing gifts from the left coast.”
Which gift turned out to be two bottles of Pliny the Elder for Tony and I. Never heard of Pliny? You must never been to BeerAdvocate; the BA’s over there hold the DIPA in the same esteem winos hold Caymus or Dom. It’s damn near impossible to find anybody with even lukewarm reviews, nevermind critical. Like anything else hoisted up on a pedestal of such great heights, I’m immediately skeptical, so to actually drink this like-mythical brew doubled as both a drinking pleasure and an intellectual experiment. Of course, as mentioned above, it was Boozy Milkshake Day (the sequel). The scales obviously tipped a little toward the former. I just drank the bastard, frankly. Here, in retrospect, I’ll try to even it out a bit.
And it’s good. It’s very good. Anybody following along these past couple months probably caught wind of my frustration re: American IPA’s going for that over-the-top hop quality (rhymes!); the coolest thing about the Pliny is that even though it’s a double IPA (doubles usually equating to double everything - hops, alcohol, etc.), it manages to seat itself in balance. It doesn’t pull you one way or the other, doesn’t rip your tongue free of your cheeks in an effort to impress. Actually it drinks more like a pale ale, in terms of bite and slice.
As much as I love to knock things off their pedestals, I just can’t bring myself to do so in this case. If you can get your hands on it, I’d highly suggest not blinking, just buying. Pliny’s brewed by Russian River, out in California. Nothing gets shipped out to us in the east. Why am I writing about a beer we can’t get? Well… I don’t know, really. You can’t buy it here. But it is beer, and we deal with beer. So, if you ever find yourself Cali-ways, find a pint, find a bottle; tell ‘em dT sent you.
Tags: American beer, craft beer, DIPA
Category: The Beer Blog | Comments (0)
posted on 3 June 2009 by dan
I posted this originally during the Craft Beer Conference week, but, well… I had another glass of Orchard White last night and it’s so gosh darned tasty and whatnot, I feel the need to move it up to the top of the blog. And so, without further ado…
So, it’s Craft Beer Conference week here in lovely Boston, which means we’re flooded with brewers in town. Good, good stuff. We’ve been bar-hopping all week, trying out the newest brews and this that and the third. Everywhere we go, it’s been on lips: The Bruery finally has MA representation.
The Bruery’s Orchard White is often cited as the number one beer coming out of the States today (depending on who you ask, of course - some people might tell you that distinction belongs to Budweiser). It’s a witbier, a style most are familiar with through Blue Moon, or Sam White, or some other such you find people tossing citrus rings into at bars. Derived from the Belgian word for white, these brews are so-called because, while they’re not perfectly white, they’re much, much lighter than the palest pale ales. Brewed with spices, they blast the tongue with citrus and the like.
But this Orchard White, it’s something different. First of all, there’s a bit of lavender in the recipe, and you can taste it immediately. Second, it’s bottle fermented and unfilitered, like most in the style, but somehow comes out wearing those characteristics on its sleeve. Where lots of witbiers can come out tasting manufactured, this Bruery brew tastes like a Belgian Saison Farmhouse. Jeff put it best: it’s like taking a bite out of the Belgian farming countryside. And that’s good. It’s very good. Every sip is chewy, different from the last. If you want a beer experience unlike any other you’ll find in an American Witbier, pick this up. It’s only 10 bucks for a full 750 mL. You won’t be disappointed.
dJp
Tags: American beer, BRAND NEW, California, Farmhouse, Orchard White, The Bruery, white beer, witbier
Category: Beer Reviews, The Beer Blog | Comments (0)
posted on 30 May 2009 by dan
Listen (and I’m not proud of this): I forget about Smuttynose sometimes. It’s easy to get distracted by all these flashy labels and wild stylistic experiments that hit our shelves like machine-gun fire. In this obsessive hunt for the next new thing, the old standbys can seem a little passe by comparison.
Which mode of thinking is backwards and self-defeating. Yeah, Smutty’s been around for, what, an eternity in craft-beer years and, yeah, they’re established. But the Portsmouth brewers aren’t ones to rest on the laurels of their success. They probably could just sit back and churn out more and more IPA. They aren’t. Instead, they’re ever in the lab, penning new recipes and tweaking old ones.
Which brings me to this year’s Summer Weizen. Our rep from the brewery popped in a few weeks back and he went on and on about this year’s recipe which calls for… wait for it… chamomile. Now, it’s not exactly foreign territory; a few popular brewers (Rogue, for one) have included the tea in their beers, and homebrewers can go on and on about the use of tea in general; but your average casual drinker probably hasn’t come across any of those brews. Therein lies the difference. Smutty Summer’s a staple as it stands, not some crazy new bottle. The addition of chamomile indicates, at the very least, a playfulness you don’t usually find in the more established crafts.
Here’s what the Smuttynose website says about it, in their Brewers Notes. By the way, it’s even cooler that they have a section on their website for the brewers to blog about their creations. Full disclosure and whatnot.
So, given that the whole point of beer is drinking it, not sitting around conceptualizing it… what does the chamomile actually do for the beer? To be honest with you, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t claim to have an advanced enough palate to pick up on the subtleties, not to mention that I’m not entirely sure what chamomile tastes like anyway.
But I can tell you this: in a world inundated with summer beers, the Smuttynose stands out. I dig this beer. Big and fat with a hoppy base and a yeasty body, it leaves a gentle sweetness on the roof of your mouth. It finishes rich and with this natural-harvest quality and the hops hang out unobtrusively on the tongue for minutes after. Wait - does it sound like I’m describing something un-summery? That description paints a picture of a winter warmer, doesn’t it? The thing is, the Summer Weizen somehow manages to refresh the tongue without sacrificing body. Good stuff.
I’m glad that Smutty rep went on and on about this beer. It’s good to remind myself that the established crafts are established for a reason and that innovation and familiarity aren’t mutually exclusive. Get down with this beer. Get back to the roots.
dJp
Tags: American beer, backporch drinkin, seasonal beer, Smuttynose, summer beer
Category: Beer Reviews, The Beer Blog | Comments (1)
posted on 30 April 2009 by dan
The first time I had Long Trail was back in college, home for the summer, partying up in the woods behind my parents’ house (shh). One of my UVM-attending friends pulled a bottle of Double Bag out of his backpack and handed it to me; that was essentially my introduction to craft beer. So, Long Trail’s got a special spot in my heart.
Which explains why it was with some trepidation that I popped the cap on their new Brewmaster Series Double IPA - potential for fallen heroes and whatnot. On the other hand, it’s good to see Long Trail moving into the bomber format, a format that suggests a more serious, sit-and-sip brew when compared to the hey-everybody-grab-one six pack. Slipping the key under the cap, I’m holding my breath.
Not to worry. No disappointment here; in fact, this DIPA is one of the most compelling beers I’ve tried in a long, long time, as compared to its category or otherwise. Where most American IPAs go for over-the-top hoppiness and not much else, the hops in this bottle settle in nicely against a malty thickness that balances everything out. There’s bitterness still, of course, but it’s as if the bitterness is fighting uphill for prevalence on the tongue. The battle between the hops and the malts makes for an invigorating drinking experience.
Yeah, I said invigorating.
If you’ve liked Long Trail all along, or if you dig DIPAs, check this out. Actually, if you like beer, check it out. Long Trail takes steps in shutting up all the naysayers who claim Americans only know how to punch you in the face, beer-wise (uh, naysayers being a category that includes me - see the blurt on gulden draak just below. What? I’m an opportunist blogger. So?)
dJp
Tags: American beer, Brewmaster, Double Bag, double IPA, Long Trail, Vermont
Category: Beer Reviews, The Beer Blog | Comments (0)
posted on 27 March 2009 by dan
As reviewed by e-$, one dT’s brilliant employee:
Rather interesting… Although it’s as thick and dark as a moonless night, the body on your tongue is fairly light. It’s a complicated beer, flavor-wise, incorporating any number of individual, subtle vibe, but the forerunners are smoke and molasses. Also, find: caramel, bitter herbs, coffee, black licorice. Of course, that’s just me… Let me know what you pick up on.
Tags: American beer, beer, Boulder, craft beer, porter
Category: Beer Reviews | Comments (0)
