Monthly Archives: May 2008

Not good enough.

Tonight I’m making an example out of myself. I’ve been saving a bottle of New Belgium Mighty Arrow Pale Ale from the latest New Belgium mix pack to review. I like the brewery a lot, and there aren’t many reviews of the beer yet on the beer websites, so I thought I’d put one up. I only have one bottle left, and I’m not stumping up for another mix pack anytime soon, having coughed up for three new sixtels in the past two months, so this was my shot.

The review process started just fine. Got my typical objective and not too flowery description of the appearance of the beer, and then took a big whiff and got . . . next to nothing. A bit of malt, no real hop at all. Hmmm. The beer is quite fresh, so that’s not the issue. Fortunately, I’ve already consumed the other two bottles from the mix pack and know that it’s a rather lovely APA, with some characteristic New Belgium toasty malt notes. It’s not the beer that’s subpar – it’s me!

Why? Who knows. I’m not congested at all. I don’t feel like I’m coming down with anything. Maybe it’s the olive oil from the pasta salad I had for dinner, or some residual funk from the strawberries and yogurt I had for dessert (even though those were hours ago). Maybe it’s a subtle allergic reaction from being out in nature for two hours tonight during my son’s (first!) T-ball game. Regardless of what it is, my nose and palate are simply not good enough tonight to draft a review of this beer. So, I won’t.

But here is a peek into the myth of the tasting note. If I’d never had this beer before, could I tell that it was my palate and not the beer that was not good enough? I don’t pretend that I could.

How many beer, wine and whisky reviews out there arise from much less than perfect circumstances like I experienced tonight? I’d venture to say almost every one of them. Whether it’s the sample of the beverage is not representative in some way (corked, oxidized, heat damaged, old, too warm or cold, etc.), the setting is flawed (too many small samples too quickly considered, palate fatigue, etc.), or some other extraneous factor (utter falsification, reputation/rarity bias, etc.) skews the results, reviews are not and can not be considered definitive. They are a snapshot of a sample tasted at a moment by a person under the particular combination of circumstances (flaws and all) then existing.

When one adds in the myriad personal human quirks of each and every taster, whether biases or ailments, or simply what they had for lunch or dinner, reliance on tasting notes for anything more than the most general of guidance for things one might like to taste (and taste repeatedly before passing judgment, I’d add) is absurd. And I’ll gladly present myself and any note I’ve ever written as Exhibit A.

Quality in Quantity

Regular followers of the “What am I drinking” feature of this site probably note that I go through a lot more beer than wine or whisky. A lot of this has to do with alcohol content. By virtue of their higher alcohol content, wine and whisky necessarily are consumed in smaller quantities. I also don’t just kick back with a few glasses of wine or whisky.

Wine for me is fundamentally a part of a meal. I may have a part of a glass while cooking, or finish a glass after dinner, but it’s not something I just pull to drink on its own. The synergy of wine and food is something I appreciate and am fascinated by, but wine by itself is not as attractive to me.

Whisky gets even more restrictively pigeon-holed, I’m afraid. If I have some, it needs to be a nightcap, and then probably only one. I know some folks think it makes a terrific companion to food, but it doesn’t work for me. I’m also pretty weather sensitive when it comes to my whisky consumption – if there’s not a crisp snap in the air, I’m just not going to reach for a whisky.

Which brings me to beer. Beer is my all-occasion beverage. It works with food, and I have no qualms about consuming it by itself. It has the bonus of packing a lot of flavor into a package that I can drink all evening long. I truly get as much pleasure from a mouthful of good beer as I do from good wine or whisky, I just get a lot more mouthfuls! This is the clincher for me.  I used to drink more wine than anything else, but with life as crazy and wonderful and complete as it is, beer is a much better fit.

Now, I already diverge from the pack a bit by being a triple threat lover of beer, wine and whisky.  I diverge further from the pack by having a distinct preference for beers of very moderate strength.  As the title of the post indicates, I have always been a quality in quantity guy.  I’ve learned this about myself over the years, and trust me that some of those early years were full of some painfully disastrous experiments with quantity.

As I have grown up (matured is a bit too kind), I have given quite a bit of thought to this.  Once the realization hit that I would derive significantly more pleasure from two pints of 5% beer than one pint of 10% beer, I began to ween myself from “the chase”.  In the beer community, at least the online one, there is a great amount of discussion about certain beers (usually hard to get, expensive and high in alcohol) that garner high scores (I’ll save my rant on scoring something as subjective as taste for later).  The current top 100 on Beer Advocate is dominated by Quads, Russian Imperial Stout, Imperial/Double IPAs, and Barleywines.  Sure, there are a few other styles represented, but most are big beers (I counted a whopping 21 of 100 with an alcohol % less than 7%).

For a while, I was a part of “the chase” after these beers ,as I was after wine with “points” from certain critics.  Nowadays, I leave the chase to others.  I shared my thoughts on the subject in a post in Mike Sweeney’s fine Stlhops forum.   Over the past few years I’ve managed to direct the vast majority of my beer budget into beers that have more or less 5% alcohol or below.  I find myself happier, and have plenty of wonderful beers that I truly enjoy to keep my fridge, and now my kegerator, full.

While I’m content on my path, I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness for those who rush past some really terrific “basic” beers on “the chase” for the latest and greatest double, Imperial, Bourbon barrel-aged, Brett-fermented star.  I’m glad those folks are thinking about what they’re drinking, and enjoying it, but I look forward to the time when we can discuss the subtlety and balance of a great Pilsener, Dunkel, or American Pale Ale with as much passion and appreciation as the “big” beers get.

Draft Bell’s – a confirmed sighting in St. Louis!

Though I’d heard it from both the distributor and the brewery rep. (and reconfirmed it after not seeing it),  and reported it here two months ago, I just got the first confirmed report of Bell’s actually on draft in St Louis!  Oberon is on at the Central West End location of Llywellyn’s.  So get yourself down there and drink it up so we can get more and in more places.  Thanks for the tip, Carl!

The value of a good wine merchant.

This is a post I should have done some time ago, especially with my silly “20 Buck Luck” experiment getting as many views as it does. I got a very thoughtful comment last night from an excellent local wine merchant, Paul Hayden, on the second installment of 20 Buck Luck. I am a regular customer of Paul’s store, and rely on him often for recommendations in wine areas that I don’t have enough experience in, or fall outside my normal taste preferences. Paul is an excellent wine merchant, his store stocks great stuff, and he’s single-handedly revitalized their beer selection from something that you glanced at if you were in the store for something else, to a beer destination.

We’re blessed in St. Louis to have other passionate, knowledgeable wine merchants too – Jake Hafner at 33, Andrew Traughber at Bon Vivant, John Nash and Simon Lehrer (who is THE cheese man too) at the Wine Merchant. I’ve stocked my cellar with their help, and the help of other great wine merchants like David Lillie and Jamie Wolff at Chambers St. Wine, Paul Wasserman when he was at Woodland Hills Wine Company, Bill Mayer at The Age of Riesling, and many more over the course of my fifteen years as a wine lover.

What does a good wine merchant do for you? First, they put together a nice selection in their store. They sift through the oceans of dull wines out there to find things that interest them. They find the quality. Now, not every merchant (nor should they be!) is into the same things, so you’re going to find variety as you go from store to store. Frankly, that’s enough of a relationship for some people right there – they trust that the wine on the shelf will be a good one and they explore on their own. For some, they’re loyal to one store, others need more to satisfy their vinious interests and desires.

For those willing to take a step further, from anonymous browser to interactive shopper, there are greater rewards to be had. A good wine merchant has the ability to learn your palate, and make thoughtful suggestions for wines that fit your tastes, and stretch your experience to encompass new tastes that you may also enjoy. In my early days of wine, this was critical. While I commend reading about wine, there is no substitute for drinking your way through various regions to bring the words to life. A good wine merchant can be your guide, and all the more so when you engage in an ongoing conversation about their recommendations with them.

My first experience with a good wine merchant was Brent at the Wine Merchant location in Clayton.  I was in my first year of graduate school, and didn’t have a lot of spare cash, but the Wine Merchant had (and still has) a fine selection of quality, but less expensive, wines from the South of France.  I struck up a conversation with Brent on my first visit, told him I was just beginning to really explore wine in earnest, and asked for recommendations within my budget.  When I returned, Brent asked what I had liked and not about his previous recommendations, and he made more based on that information.  From these conversations we worked out from the South of France, to explore every region well-represented in the store’s stock, with Brent guiding the selections based on my reports of what I had and had not liked about the earlier recommendations.  Brent helped make my exploration much more fruitful and pleasant than it otherwise would have been had I simply been selecting wines at random, or from book and magazine recommendations.

Another favorite wine experience was with David Lillie of Chambers St. Wines.  I had been a customer for several years, focusing largely on their outstanding selection of wines from the Loire, when I decided to make a special request of David.  I gave him a budget and asked for him to put together two cases of wine (this was back in the pre-kid, free-spending days . . .) from his current stock that I had not previously had, but that he thought would be interesting to me.  David more than ably jumped to the challenge, and I found several new producers, wines, even grapes that I had not previously sampled, but were very much in my palate’s wheelhouse.

Getting back to Paul’s comment on my 20 Buck Luck series.  The reason I decided to limit myself to grocery store wines was because, even with the $20 limit, it would be too easy to get three really good wines at your shop, or any of the other fine merchants around town.  I thought it would be a humorous experiment to unleash a wine geek (especially one with little to no tolerance for oak or high alcohol) into the grocery store wine aisle to see if he could find any inexpensive potable wines.  The quality I encountered frankly shocked me, and that is why I thought about abandoning the grocery stores for the wine shops, or even Trader Joe’s, (though there is significant crap shoot element there too).  In the end, my friends (apart from Carl, who has always thought this was just a waste of money and abuse of palate) convinced me to continue to tilt at the windmill of the grocery store wine aisle.

I’ll add a disclaimer to any future installments of 20 Buck Luck (I’ve still not recovered from the horror show that was the Pinot Evil) directing folks who truly want to learn about wine without wasting their cash to this post.  Thanks to Paul for pointing out that some clarification was needed:  20 Buck Luck is intended for entertainment purposes only.  It is not intended to represent a recommended method for actually exploring the world of wine.

For those of you really interested in exploring wine, find yourself a good wine merchant.  There are several in the “Places to Shop and Drink” links, or in this post.  The relationship will be a rewarding one, and you will be supporting people who are truly passionate about wine.

Atypique

It’s never been a finer time to be atypique in France. You’ll have some outstanding company. First it was the 2006 from La Gramiere. Now it’s the 2007 l’Ancien from Jean Paul Brun.

Quality wines from quality producers are being denied the ability to use their appellation of origin on the labels because they do not taste sufficiently similar to the ocean of wine being produced in their areas. For La Gramiere, that region is Côtes du Rhône, for M. Brun, it’s Beaujolais. Both of these appellations are huge, and home to myriad producers, many of whom turn out wine that is not particularly inspired. But, through the “wisdom” of the appellation d’origine contrôlée system (AOC), “not particularly inspired” becomes “typique” which is what wines must be, as judged by a tasting panel, to be allowed to say “Côtes du Rhône” or “Beaujolais” on the label.  Fail to be typique, and you have to label your wine as one being of the lesser levels of “quality”, Vin de Pays or Vins de Table.

While the denial of appellation doesn’t have much impact on geek sales, whether here or in Europe, which are more tuned in to producer or importer, rather than appellation, it can have a big impact on “normal” sales.  For M. Brun, over 5000 cases of his l’Ancien are impacted.  This is the bulk of his entire production for the year, and he will take a hit financially because of it (see the first May 8 posting by Brun’s U.S. importer Joe Dressner here).  For La Gramiere, it’s their entire 2006 production that is impacted.

Ultimately, France will likely go the way of Italy, where the Vino da Tavola has become a mark of prestige (albeit for using otherwise impermissible grapes more than anything), rather than an impediment to sales. I just can’t see the establishment opening their minds to quality producers who make something truly special from land where others only make something ordinary but still marketable due to name recognition for their AOC.  Hopefully, they will get it, but I fully expect them to trade on history until it is no longer able to support them where it matters most to them – their pocketbook.