posted on 27 June 2009 by dan
We waited and we waited, but it’s finally arrived: Mad River’s Steelhead Double Dread Imperial Red. It’s the most recent entry in the brewery’s High Gravity series, an uber-limited series of full-throttle brews.
For those of you just hopping on the dT blog-wagon, we’ve been waiting (sort of) patiently for its arrival since a tasting over at the Cambridge Common a couple months ago, when the M.R. president promised us a slice of the High-Gravity-pie. We tasted the then-current Serious Madness Black Ale back then; we gushed and sputtered over it. Which led to our Double Dread anticipation.
Was it worth the wait? Abso-effing-lutely. I waffled with sampling it for this posting, it being limited and whatnot, but in the end, I caved and bought a 4-pack. The side of the pack claims 8.6% booze, but it’s hardly noticeable, what with the sweet malts and the prickly hops tap-dancing about on the palette. It manages to refresh, despite its weight and claims at heavy-headiness.
The coolest bit of all, though, comes at the top of their brewery description: “…we were astounded to see light literally dance and refract in its ruby depths.” Aside from that being a poetic and beautiful and apt description, it also reveals considerable information re: the integrity of M.R. in general. Any true art controls the artist as much as the artist controls it; the Double Dread reflected something unexpected back to the brewers. What else could you ask for from a beer? This is craft beer epitomized, people. Dig it.
Tags: California, double imperial red, imperial, mad river, red ale
Category: Beer Reviews, 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 15 May 2009 by dan
This whole organic thing is getting a bit out of control. Every other product hitting shelves these days, from beer to wine to spirits, announces itself as organic, bio-dynamic, blah, blah, and all that. It isn’t that I begrudge the movement itself; in fact, I’m all for it. Taking steps towards lessening the carbon footprint is not only respectable, it’s responsible and indicative of a business practice invested with a considerable amount of soul… something oft missing in Our Lady Commerce.
But that’s the thing: because people are starting to catch up to the green movement, the word “organic” has become a marketing buzzword, a bastardized, empty shell of a word that has less to do with any philosophy and more to do with attracting sales. Half of the breweries/wineries/distilleries out there meet the bare minimum of legal requirements necessary to print the claim on the label, caring not about the earth or this, that or the third. Oh well. I guess I should be happy some steps are taken, right?
But then there’s Eel River. Dig their website. Claims at achieving organic status first, which would mean they’ve been organic since way back in 1997, when it became a gosh-darn, honest-to-goodness legal term and that would mean that they’ve been organic since before it was a marketing buzzword. So, okay.
I’m drinking on the Raven’s Eye, their Russian Imperial Stout. According to the website, this brew’s won awards and awards before, and I can see why. The beer in the glass is dark with a swirling beige head that drifts around like astral patterns on its skin. The deep and dark color and the thick, roasted nose suggest a huge beer, but it’s really not all that huge. It’s nice and light on the tongue. Which isn’t to suggest that the flavors aren’t profound or complex; they in fact, are very profound and very complex, with the roasted espresso flavors bouncing off a subtle hoppiness. The dissonance between the body and the flavors is actually the most compelling aspect of drinking on this brew.
So, dig on the organics. Trust that this company is, in fact, committed to the organic movement in a way that perhaps others are not. But this beer stands up besides the organic label. It’s an organic beer that is both organic and beer, not some boardroom formula simulating both.
dJp
Tags: beer, California, craft beer, dark beer, eel river, imperial stouts, organic, stouts
Category: Beer Reviews | Comments (0)
posted on 22 April 2009 by dan
So, this is the week of the craft brew conference, which is an industry event that puts brewers face-to-face with the folks who sell their wares. It’s in Boston this year, which is cool, because the city’s flooded with all manner of brewers and their kind. Last night, Kristen and I headed out to the Cambridge Common to chill with the guys from Mad River.
Mad River’s a 20 year old company out of Humboldt (which is in CA, for all the right-coasters). They’ve been putting solid beers out all this time, rounding up award after award after award. Quality beer awards aside, they also win medals for operating their production at extremely low waste. Check out their website for more specific info on that tip.
Eric Spieth, the CEO/president of the company was on hand at the Common. Spieth’s an incredibly affable guy and exactly what you’d want from a brewer: humble, laidback, dedicated to his craft. He brought with him the whole line of Mad River beers, including the first entry in their High Gravity series, a Black Ale by the name of Serious Madness. Only 40 kegs of it got pitter-pattered across the country, so to be able to try it was something… it was something else. Talk about dark… the beer lives up to the black in its name and its topped off with a creamy looking head. In the mouth, it foams around your tongue, almost swallows you while you’re trying to swallow it. But it never gets hollow. Smokey, sweet… I wish we had some to sell. Enthused by our enthusiasm, Spieth told us he’s making sure we get at least a bit of the next High Gravity entry, a double imperial red (!). Look for it - it should be around this summer.
We’ve got the rest of the line in the store. Try the douple IPA - dig the hoppy kickback that’s like sharp berries on the finish. Dig the Jamaica Red, one of the most immensely drinkable beers I’ve had in a while. Dig this whole company.
dJp
Tags: black ale, California, CBC, craft beer, double IPA, High Gravity, mad river, red ale
Category: The Beer Blog | Comments (1)