Category Archives: Zac

2011 – The year in Beer

So, another year is in the books, which means another hour spent on New Year’s Day employing my children to sort and count the bottle caps collected from the previous year. As always, these simply represent every bottle of beer opened in the Nelson household during the previous year, regardless of who consumed them (though the vast, vast majority was me).

Total caps: 490

Breweries Represented: 28

Breweries with more than 10 caps (and % of total):

Schlafly – 17.8%

Firestone Walker/Nectar Ales – 12.4%

Budvar – 9.4%

Stone – 8%

Homebrew – 7.3%

Founder’s – 5.9%

Bell’s (all Two-Hearted) – 4.9%

Weihenstephaner (all Festbier) – 4.9%

Goose Island – 4.9%

Moosehead – 4.5%

Odell – 4%

Capital – 3.2%

Sierra Nevada – 2.2%

As “interesting” as these raw numbers are, I must add a few points for context. First, thanks to the generosity of Portland-bound friends Zac and Kate Duncan, I returned to the privileged class of people with kegerators, when Zac and Kate donated theirs to my cause.  Since that point, I’ve enjoyed the following:

1/4 bbl of Odell St. Lupulin

2 – 1/4 bbls of Odell IPA (2d keg in progress)

1 – 1/6 bbl of Urban Chestnut Zwickel (which lasted all of 7 days during the worst of this hateful summer’s heat)

1 – 1/6 bbl of Founder’s Red’s Rye

1 – 1/6 bbl of homebrew (still in progress)

So, taking the kegs into account,  Odell was far and away the most consumed brewery this year, basically tripling Schlafly. I’m very much in love with Odell’s IPA, and their St. Lupulin and (incredibly boringly named) Red Ale, all of which meld a serious punch of hop aroma and flavor, with a velvety malt load that just works for my palate. Founder’s also would get a significant bump, and Urban Chestnut would jump into the ranking.

Also missing from the above numbers are canned craft beer. I know I went through a couple of 12 packs of Capital Supper Club (thanks, Annie!) , and several (4, 5, 6?) six packs of Ska Brewing‘s Modus Hoperandi. I just did a crap job (read – no attempt at all) to track those this year. Sorry to the fine folks at Capital (who’d be finer if they distributed to St. Louis!) and Ska. Love your beers, but caps are easier to keep than cans.

Finally, I feel a need to explain the Moosehead entry. I grew up in Michigan, and, during college, Canadian beer was cheap.  Really cheap. In fact, when I moved to St. Louis, a case of Moosehead bottles at the store where I worked would set you back all of $12, and it was the most expensive of the Big 3 Canadian brands. When we were too flush with cash for bottom tier stuff like Weidemann’s, Beast or Schaefer (all at about $5 a case), but not spendy enough for craft, we went Canadian.

So, the summer of 2012 went through a rather oppressive phase. This isn’t uncommon (especially for someone from Michigan), but I was desperate for a beer I could chill and swill. I had been reading some mysteries set in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula during this period, many of which featured Canadian beer prominently. This triggered a nostalgic craving for some basic Canadian suds. Moosehead being the freshest of those at the Schnuck’s, I went with it. And enjoyed it. I might even do it again.

Previous years are here:

2010

2009

2008

Wheat? Wit pleasure.

A thread over at the Stlhops forum got me thinking about wheat beers.  I don’t drink many (though more than my friend Zac).  The style called “American Wheats” leaves me pretty cold – the haze they carry seems to be their most defining characteristic, rather than their taste or aroma.  There are a couple that I don’t mind – Bell’s Oberon is pretty much a one sixpack a season (and Oberon season seems to get longer and longer . . .) beer for me.  There’s Three Floyds Gumballhead, but that’s a rare sight in these parts, and it’s so hoppy that the wheat is largely irrelevant to the aroma and taste profiles of the beer.

Bavarian wheat beers don’t have a lot of attraction for me either.  The yeast used tends to generate clove and banana-flavored esters that turn me off.  I’m mildly allergic to bananas (they make my throat itch like crazy), so perhaps I just have an inherent aversion to them.  Berliner Weisse is sadly too rare and too delicate (thereby suffering in its travels) to even merit discussion.

This more or less leaves me with Wits, which is a style I’ve historically liked quite a bit, but seem to have forgotten about.  I used to load up on cases of Celis White in Chicago when returning to St. Louis from Michigan.  Wit is a great style for St. Louis’ steamy Summers – light, but complex, with a subtle spicing adding to the mild esters from the yeast, and the sharpness of the wheat. They’re both food-friendly, especially with lighter Summer fare like salads, and refreshing to drink on their own.  The problem is availability.

Hoegaarden, the brewery founded by Pierre Celis in the 60′s that virtually revived the style, remains a classic, but I find it one of the least interesting wits available (plus, there’s the whole InBev angle).  However, I’ve recently had some fine craft brewed renditions from Great Lakes – their Holy Moses – and New Belgium Brewing – their Mothership Wit, and have really been enjoying, even craving them.  Since Great Lakes isn’t in these parts anymore, I think I’m going to have to grab a keg of Mothership once something kicks in the kegerator.

The return of taste

Well, we’re in a bit of a holding pattern here at Beer, Wine and Whisky. It seems the medication I’m taking as a result of my recent health incident is seriously monkeying with my sense of taste. The good news is that things seem to be returning to normal as the doctors reduce the amount of medication I’m on, but for a week or so, I’ve been completely without a sense of taste.

That being said, I’ve still been drinking, and I’ve had several things that were lovely to smell, and likely would have been lovely to taste, had I been so endowed at the time. Top of the list was a 1996 Dom. Druet Bourgueil Cuvee Beauvais, which was a lovely, mature Cabernet Franc. The Beauvais is one of Druet’s lower-level bottlings, but in a ripe vintage like 1996, it had plenty of stuffing to age beautifully for a decade. Lots of raspberries on the nose, with a hearty dose of green herbs. Tannins were fully resolved and it had a lovely, satiny mouthfeel. Very good stuff and I’m glad to have some more in the cellar (which I thriftily picked up at auction for $10 per about 5 years ago).

Beer has also been going down the gullet at a decent pace. We had a nice tasting at Carl’s house last Saturday. The stars of the show were two bottlings from the Craft Brewer’s Conference in 2002 and 2004. Each year, brewers in/around the host city come up with a special beer for the conference. The 2002 was a joint effort of Tomme Arthur, Peter Zein, and Lee Chase (then of Stone Brewing). It was a pale Belgian brewed with lemongrass, and had held up very well in the cellar. Really nice spiciness from the yeast, without being overwhelmed, and fresh cut from the citrusy lemongrass. The 2004 was a completely different approach – a blend of seven regular releases from seven different brewers – mostly stouts (including Victory’s Storm King), and one IPA. While this could have been a real trainwreck, it was actually really, really good.

Another standout for me was a new beer from a new brewery. My father-in-law picked it up for me at a wineshop that just opened near his apartment in Chicago, and brought it to accompany the Thanksgiving I missed. It was the L’Amalthee from Brasserie Lebbe, which is located, in all places in the Hautes-Pyranees department of France – not exactly a brewing hot bed. The beer had a great raw grainy nose, and a wonderful polished quality from its brief period of lagering. This would be a great food beer. After reading about the brewery (something I didn’t do until after we’d tasted it), I like the beer even more. Charles Neal is an outstanding wine importer, and I’m very pleased to see him bring in such a quality beer.

Finally, Carl was kind enough to open a bottle of Russian River’s Biere de Garde, Perdition. This was simply a gorgeous beer. Lots of depth to the malt, and a wonderfully complex grainy, spicy aroma. Wonderful stuff.

Lowlights of the tasting were two of Bell’s Batch series. My next to last Batch 6000 is starting to show some unpleasant oxidation notes. This one has been a fun ride though – always drinkable, and genuinely evolving in the cellar over the years. The last one will definitely be drunk up this winter though. One of Zac’s Batch 7000s showed me that I was smart to trade my stash away to someone who enjoyed them. It’s still a monstrous beer, with a whole lot of hop bitterness, but its malt load is starting to show notes of soy sauce, which is an absolute non-starter for me. Blargh.

Lots of other good beers were opened, but most of all it was nice to be with friends.

A fine evening at Bailey’s Chocolate Bar

It was a special night at Bailey’s Chocolate Bar last night. Eric Salazar, one of the brewers at New Belgium Brewing was there for part II of a special New Belgium tour of St. Louis (part I was a dinner the previous night at Duff’s which I was not able to attend) with his wife Lauren, also a part of the NBB team.

Eric is famous in beer geek circles for the creation of Eric’s Ale, an experimental brew at New Belgium that has received rave reviews from those fortunate enough to taste it. A keg was tapped at Bailey’s on Monday, and was flowing last night for a really nice turnout of the St. Louis beer scene. Dave Bailey, the proprietor of Bailey’s was there, as were my friends from Beeradvocate (and many other adventures) Carl and Zac, Andy the beer manager of our local Whole Foods, Stephen Hale, the head brewer at Schlafly, Charlie, one of the brewers at O’Fallon, Mike from Stlhops (and his lovely girlfriend “I’m not crazy about beer, but I do drink Two-Hearted” Irene), and a host of others. It was a lively crowd and much St. Louis and general beer talk was had (trivia from Stephen – what is wrong with the label on Schlafly’s Biere de Garde?).

So, how was the famous Eric’s Ale? Simply outstanding. Quite sour, but not pushing Cantillon or even La Folie levels. My analogy was that if La Folie is a punch to the gut, Eric’s Ale was a firm slap to the cheek. There was a wonderful, clean round maltiness to it as well, that gave excellent balance to the beer throughout. There was still a hint of fruit to it, but it was very subtle – more of an echo of peach than anything. I found it very Cantillon in that regard. It was a perilously drinkable beer, with myself putting away four glasses over the course of the evening.

I did have an opportunity to speak with Eric about how he made the beer, and it was a rather fascinating process. It began with two empty La Folie barrels. He wanted to put something in them, so he brewed up a batch that was essentially the recipe for New Belgium’s lost, lamented Biere de Mars (more on this later too), which was his favorite New Belgium beer. This beer was left in barrel for two years. Yes, two years. Eric then brewed up a very strong (he said 17.5 Plato, which I translate to 1.072) Belgian Pale ale using very old hops, which he then blended with the barrel-aged beer, and a peach concentrate. The sugar from the peaches kicked off another fermentation, for which Eric added a lager yeast to finish it off. Wow. Not your everyday single infusion ale. I for one was very glad that he did it, and that New Belgium gives its brewers the support to pursue beers like this.