Coming up on Saturday, April 21st at Tempe Beach Park at Tempe Town Lake in Tempe, Arizona is the very first Four Peaks Brewing Company celebration of all things worth celebrating…Randomonium!

This all-day event is slated to coincide with our 15th Anniversary.  That’s right, it’s already been 15 years since you first pressed your lips up to a pint of Kilt Lifter Scottish Amber, brought home your very first Growler of 8th Street Pale Ale and, in some instances, referred to our Raj IPA as the Raj “eee-pah”.

Good times… all of them!

Well, we’ve getting the beer ready for Randomonium so don’t worry about that, we’re figuring you’d be more concerned as to what you’re going to do once we get you down there.  Well let me say that we have a pretty star studded, jam packed lineup of bands slated to play our 1st ever event!

Randomonium is book-ended by local favorites Tramps & Thieves and headlined by California’s latest sensation and David Letterman’s 30th Anniversary musical guest, The Airborne Toxic Event.  We’ve also found a little extra room to include Tempe’s latest breakout act, Black Carl and fellow Texas ensembles Jonathan Tyler and the Northern Lights as well as Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears.

Boo-yah!

General Admission Tickets are now on sale at the Pre-sale price of $40 at our website, randomonium.com or by going directly to the ticket link HERE.  If you don’t want to mess with lines for beer, food, bathrooms, etc. we encourage you to splurge and get the $125 VIP Tickets which also includes 10 complimentary beer tickets.  If you think about it that is one smokin’ hot deal and supplies are EXTREMELY Limited on these!

Feel free to peruse the remainder of this Brewsletter to help get more familiar with these bands to be playing our event in April.  Look for further Brewsletter addenda to show up over the next few weeks to keep you updated on all of the goings on!

Buy your tickets and then make sure you tell all of your friends where your going to be on April 21st, prices like these won’t hang around for very long

www.randomonium.com

After several hours and many late nights of scouring the hundreds of pages that made up the Randomonium Scrolls (See the article, Randomonium: Digging For The Truth) I finally came across the lynch pin, the glue if you will, that brought it all together.

That’s right, I came across the actual Legend of Randomonium!

What lies before you is the combination of both meticulous research and through the transcribing of a language that has easily been dead since long before you were born.

Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you the wondrous and intoxicating storied history of RANDOMONIUM: 

Legend of Randomonium

In the early days of time well before the Rio Salado was diverted and dried up, in an era rife with mythological creatures of Tolkien-esque parameters that has since been lost to the ages, there stood what we would one day call Tempe Butte which looked out over a grand expanse.

Alas, at the top of this mountain there lived, of all things, a panda. The only panda ever known to live freely outside of China, Randolph was well known around the area and kept a stoic watch over what would eventually be known as Hayden Ferry and later Tempe. One day he was approached by a passing gecko.

“Greetings Randolph, I am Mortimer, a simple wandering gecko by nature and I have but one question to pose to you. Why is it that you never come down the mountain? I have ambled down this path a fortnight and have yet to see you descend.”

“Quite an astute observation and one well deserved of an answer. Simply put, I find that if I abandon my post here atop the mountain all pandemonium, nay, Randomonium will take place.”

“I am afraid that I do not comprehend. Randomonium?” replied the gecko.

“I wish that it were in my capacity to fully explain, for randomonium is just that, an unpredictable response with an unlimited potential to change at any time and it is that sort of episode which occurs every time I climb down.

This was such a fantastical notion that Mortimer decided to press even further.

“So, am I to understand that you cannot leave your perch due to the inevitable likelihood of some indeterminate occurrences transpiring that is beyond your control? I find the whole thing poppycock; you sincerely need to join us all down by the bank of the river.”

Randolph looked down the mountain to see several other creatures amassing and cavorting down by the river as well as a cacophony of their harmonious sounds wafting up from below.

Randolph thought for several moments before finally replying.

“Very well, the sights and sounds are so enchanting and I have been up here alone for so very long, I feel an uncontrollable desire to accept your invitation!”

So Randolph the Panda accompanied by Mortimer the Gecko descended the mountain. As they did so the mountain itself opened up and a river of beer began to trickle behind them, slowly at first but then building up speed almost as if the mountain itself wished to attend as well. Almost immediately from beyond the hillside a band of wandering minstrels arrived, a bounty of food appeared before them and, almost as if by magic, the amount of inhabitants along the river too began to multiply exponentially!

The Gecko, flabbergasted, spoke, “My word, what just happened?”

The Panda simply looked back, smiled and said, “Within reality there lies the unlimited potential of chaos deserving to be understood which cannot be ignored.”

“I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean,” Mortimer finally stated.

“That, my dear Gecko, is Randomonium!” Randolph said as they continued their journey into the tumult…

___^^^^___

 All of these things and more will be realized come Saturday, April 21st 2012 at Tempe Beach Park!

]]> http://www.fourpeaks.com/blog/index.php/news/randomonium-the-myth-the-legend-something-involving-cute-animals-as-mascots/feed/ 0 http://www.fourpeaks.com/blog/index.php/news/randomonium-digging-for-the-truth/ http://www.fourpeaks.com/blog/index.php/news/randomonium-digging-for-the-truth/#comments Tue, 07 Feb 2012 19:27:24 +0000 TimNeuman http://www.fourpeaks.com/blog/?p=974

What exactly is Randomonium, you ask?

Well, according to the Wikipedia page that I will one day create to describe it, the story is but one part of a series of different texts from The Randomonium Scrolls as briefly described below:

——–  —-  ——–

Although not widely reported, The Randomonium Scrolls were but one in a collection of 972 texts and documents found between 1979 and 1998 along the northwest shore of the Rio Salado. The collected texts are of great historical significance as they include some of the oldest known surviving copies of a Pseudo-Tolkien or “near-C.S. Lewisian” variety of writings (which, coincidentally, also includes more songs about wizards in honor of Melissa Kelly) native to the Southwest. 

 The Randomonium Scrolls are traditionally divided into three groups: The “Middle Earth-ian” manuscripts (involving elements of fantastic imaginary talking creatures), which comprise roughly 30% of the identified scrolls; The”Randy’s Section” manuscripts (known documents from the “Lands of Northern Arizona”) which comprise about 40% of the identified scrolls; and the now legendary “Honey Badger” manuscripts (previously unknown documents that speak to the rules and beliefs of a particular group or groups within the greater “youtube-iverse” because, as you well know, a Honey Badger don’t give a s#!+)**, which comprise roughly 30% of the identified scrolls.

——–  —-  ——–

Somewhere in the text of the 459th Scroll I finally got to the lowdown on the core concept of what Randomonium is really about (see The Legend Of Randomonium Article).  Upon sharing these findings with the rest of the Four Peaks Ownership we universally concluded that this is a construct that should once again be revisited!

What Randomonium Will Be:

- Live Music  

- Quality food  

- Only the finest in rides  

- Family friendly entertainment

- “Muscle Beach” 

- Plenty of Four Peaks Beer

- Taking place on Saturday, April 21st, 2012 at The Tempe Town Lake

- Much, MUCH More!

There are hundreds of flavors and aromas in beer. When those flavors and aromas combine, there can be thousands of additional aromas and flavors created. But are all desirable?

For the vast majority, I’d say yes. But like most things in life, it depends on what you like.

Of the undesirables, known as off flavors, they usually are attributed to yeast or bacteria but can also come from tainted or old ingredients. Some flavors in beer are not “off” necessarily, but they are weird. Ever have an oyster stout or a pizza beer?

There are many off flavors and aromas, but let’s look at two.

Dimethylsulfide

Dimethylsulfide, or DMS, is present in just about all malt-based beers at some level. DMS is marked, at high levels, by a strong cooked-corn or vegetal aroma as well as some sulfur aromas.

It comes from the conversion of a sulfur compound during the boiling of the beer, and for the most part, it is flashed off with the steam from the kettle. Different malts carry different levels of this precursor, so certain beers can have higher levels, especially if the beer is not boiled and cooled properly.

I detest DMS. To me, it smells like soup. I love soup but not in my beer.

To others, however, it is a necessary part of some lagers, at low levels. Some lager malts have high concentrations of the precursor compound, and that carries over into the character of the finished beer.

Diacetyl

Diacetyl is probably the most common of off flavors and makes its presence known with the distinct aroma of burned butter, or butterscotch. Certain bacteria can produce diacetyl, so if a brewery is lax on its sanitation, it may show up in the beer.

But the more common source of diacetyl is brewer’s yeast. It’s a natural byproduct of fermentation, which, if processed properly, will be reabsorbed by the yeast and removed from the beer. But breweries get busy, and sometimes the necessary time required to reabsorb the diacetyl is lessened, leaving some of that buttery flavor behind.

Because of its ubiquitous nature, diacetyl is seen as a necessary component in some beers, or at least its presence should not be alarming in some styles. I say the less the better, it just reminds me of the fake butter at movie theaters, which is great on popcorn but not in my beer.

I’ve said before that brewers don’t drink beer, they taste it, constantly looking for off flavors to improve upon or eliminate. So, next time you’re drinking a beer, see if you can taste either of the above flavors. An estimated 25 percent of the population can pick up on them at low concentrations.

Lucky me.

You wouldn’t think that something as seemingly mundane as filtration could elicit such strong emotions among brewers and beer drinkers, but it does.

The underlying question is whether beer should be brilliantly clear — or “bright,” in brewer’s parlance — or if it’s OK to have a beer that’s hazy, even cloudy. This excludes, of course, American wheat beers and hefeweizens, which are cloudy according to style.

Filtration is a difficult, time-consuming task done with expensive machines. When you filter a beer, you are removing any remaining yeast and a great deal of proteins and tannins, as well as some free-floating hop material to achieve a brilliant, clear beer.

There are ways to get pretty bright beer without filtration. The simplest is to let the beer sit at near freezing temps for a period of time sufficient enough for those particles to sink to the bottom. It’s a long process but it can be sped up by clarifiers, or fining agents, of various origins, including the swim bladders of certain fish. Yes, swim bladders.

I have pretty strong opinions about bright beer, but I was taught to brew by English brewers; they believed that if a beer was presented to a patron with even a slight haze that it should be returned, with some criticism of the cellarman or the brewer for not delivering a quality product. It just wasn’t tolerated. That point was driven home to the extent that I insist all of our beers at Four Peaks be bright. For us, that means filtering.

Are we perfect every time? Not always, but we make the effort. We believe that before you can smell or taste a beer, you look at it. If it’s not visually appealing, it can change your overall perception. There’s just something pleasing and inviting about the way a brilliantly clear beer catches the light.

Recently, the notion of bright beer seems to have lost its importance, especially among some American craft brewers, particularly in the Northwest. Honestly, despite my strong opinions, I don’t mind this. If a brewery chooses not to filter, that’s its prerogative. I think the idea behind not filtering is that unfiltered beer is somehow better, more natural, or even more healthful, than filtered beer. It’s not. It’s just different.

If you’re interested in trying a local unfiltered beer, the newly opened Phoenix Ale Brewery is proudly hanging its hat on the practice (or un-practice) with Fretzy’s Unfiltered Ale. It’s good, and although it doesn’t cloud my opinion of bright beer, it’s clear proof that unfiltered beer is good beer just the same.

Do women like beer? More would, if beer liked them.

If you look at beer advertising over the past few decades and knew nothing about the drink, you might conclude that beer is a drink for fraternity boys with a penchant for misogyny, marketed by athletes, rappers and girls on “bikini teams.”

On one hand, the beer industry and its advertisers have done a disservice to a demographic that could make up as much of 25 percent of its consumers.

On the other hand, why would they spend time and money targeting a group that thinks beer is unsophisticated and will get them fat, and that only makes up 25 percent of the market?

It’s a strange catch-22, at least for me.

I’ve always seen beer as the “big tent.” I understand the alienation caused by the big breweries and their advertisers. And I could see how it would be no big loss for a woman to favor a glass of wine over a mass-produced light lager.

But what about craft beer? There are thousands of flavors and a whole range of alcohol contents. If hops are your thing, we can do that. If it’s fruit, we can do that, too. Craft beer has a lot to offer, to men and women. And it can be done without drawing some gender-based line in the sand.

The poisoned pill may be what got us into this mess in the first place: advertising. As craft brewers grow to a point where we see more television and print ads, my fear is that some brewers will use the formulas of the past to market their beer. Specifically, sexism.

There aren’t many craft-beer ads, but what I do see I find to be pretty gender neutral. They tend to focus on the “story” of craft beer, the technology (or lack of it), or the artistic side to brewing.

What I don’t want to see is beer marketed specifically for women. I don’t know why this idea chaps me. Probably because it presumes so much: Women like fruit beer, women want low alcohol and low carbs, women want light colors.

What about the women who don’t – aren’t we alienating them? And what about the men who like those things; what are we saying to them?

Last time I checked, the beer I make didn’t have a gender. There is so much variety these days that it’s just not necessary to divide up along gender lines. A woman, or a man, can find what they like without being told what it should be.

Leave the bikini teams on Beer Commercial Island and let’s talk about what’s important: flavor and diversity.

I’m a big believer in the “reset” button.

I’m not very technically savvy, so when things go a little haywire, like an iPhone or my son’s Xbox, it’s nice to push reset and start over.

It seems to me that this is happening with craft beer as well. And, although I like the experimental and the crazy, it’s nice to see some brewers hit the reset button and get back to what started this whole beer revolution: clean, lower-alcohol, session beer.

There’s been a little spat on the beer-geek blogs and websites about what exactly is a session beer. These folks tend to have an insatiable desire to label and categorize, to micromanage with specific alcohol ranges and distinct flavor profiles.

Maybe the idea of a session beer is lost on these people.

I say that you’ll know it when you drink it. It is what it is: a beer that can be consumed several pints in a session, that has plenty of flavor, but won’t knock you for a loop. It doesn’t necessarily have unusual ingredients. In fact, the simpler the better.

This is how craft beer used to be.

Seventeen years ago, when I was working for Coyote Springs Brewing Co. (now defunct), we had a cream ale, a stout, a brown ale, a pale ale and an amber ale on tap. This was considered exotic at the time, and none of them topped 5.5 percent alcohol.

Now it’s not uncommon to see a 10 percent alcohol double IPA, or a Belgian sour ale aged in wood over currants, or, well, whatever Dogfish is doing. I love all of it. But it seems that in the race to have the biggest, the hoppiest or the strongest, we forgot what got us here: the drinkable, the mild, the session beer.

I’m glad to see that most Arizona brewers haven’t gone completely over to the weird side, although we’re all a little guilty of dabbling in the strange beer category (we once made a coffee-infused, smoked Imperial stout aged in bourbon barrels).

If you’re eager to sample a true session beer you can always try Evan Hanseth’s Lumberyard Red Ale in Flagstaff or Fred Krause’s Oak Creek Nut Brown Ale in Sedona. In Tucson, you could easily while away an afternoon drinking Dennis Arnold’s Red Cat Amber at the Barrio Brewery. And here at Four Peaks, spend a happy hour drinking 8th Street Ale.

The common thread in all these beers is that they all are at, or below, 5 percent alcohol. They are all traditional, approachable styles. Best of all, they’re all local.

If you are into extreme beers, that’s great. But seek out some of these mighty-mite beers. You know, the one’s your beer-geek friends call “boring.” You’ll find they’re far from it, and you may come to realize that the sublime can be found in the simple.

When I was in college I spent a semester at the University of London. More accurately, I spent a semester at the Marlborough Arms, which was a pub between my train stop and the school.

I’m not sure where I learned more.

Prior to leaving for England I didn’t really know what to expect in terms of nightlife or, for that matter, beer. I’d heard what everyone hears: “the beer is warm and flat.”

In the spirit of wanting to immerse myself in local culture, I plopped down at the Marlborough Arms one day and decided to try one of these beers.

Cask conditioned ale it was called or, simply, real ale.

What an education that was. Far from warm (about 55 deg.) and far from flat, it was an explosion of flavor: rich caramel, slight hops, and a body that was like drinking sweet cream. It blew me away.

I never forgot those pints, and when we opened Four Peaks I was determined to try to make something like it.

The process is simple if you want to do it wrong, and very difficult if you want to do it right. Essentially the brewer will brew and ferment the same as any other beer. But when the amount of malt sugars reach a certain depleted level (remember, yeast consumes sugar to create alcohol and CO2), the brewer will put the beer into casks. Modern casks are made of stainless steel and have a particular shape best suited for real ale.

Along with this “green,” or unfinished, beer the brewer will often add fining agents to clarify the ale. A certain amount of fresh yeast is also added, as well as, occasionally, some dry hops for additional flavor.

At this point the cellarman and the yeast take over. Since there is a little bit of malt sugar present in the cask, the newly introduced yeast can consume it. Because casks are sealed, the byproduct of this fermentation, CO2, cannot fully escape into the atmosphere, staying in solution and creating a mild carbonation.

The cellarman’s job is to monitor temperatures and to check the levels of CO2 present in the beer. Since real ale is, in a sense, alive, each cask can act differently during conditioning so it pays to keep a close eye on it.

Any beer style can be finished, or conditioned, in cask. But, in my opinion, English ales work best.

When served, real ale is drawn from the fully conditioned cask through what’s called a beer engine. Each pull on the handle will draw a half pint from the cask. This is different from most modern draught systems, where kegs are pressurized with CO2 and the beer is literally pushed through the lines and into your glass.

With real ale, the cask must be vented in order to pull the beer from the cask. This venting is important. It allows for a small amount of air to be drawn into the cask as beer exits. This small amount of oxygen will change the flavor of the beer over the course of a few days, making it more complex. And that’s the longest a cask should be on, a few days, any longer and that oxygen will begin to stale the beer.

My favorite aspects of real ale are the things I was warned about: warm and flat. They are slightly warmer than the ice cold lagers most Americans consume but they are perfectly suited for bringing out all the flavors in the beer. Cold kills flavor.

The carbonation is also lighter than most commercial beers, but to me this makes for a smoother beer. All that CO2 can take away from a beer’s subtle flavors. Plus real ale doesn’t give you that bloated feeling other beers can.

Real ale is not for everyone, but try it just once. And you don’t need to go to London for a taste. Many local breweries offer real ale, including Sun Up Brewery, BJ’s Brewery, and Papago Brewery in Greater Phoenix.

The hot topic that keeps coming up in my conversations with people is barrel-aging. That is, storing beer in wooden barrels to get some unique flavors from the wood.

It’s actually not a new concept at all.

People have been storing and aging beer in wooden casks for centuries, probably longer than wine. It fell out of favor with brewers with the advent of more durable and easily cleaned materials like stainless steel. But, barrel-aging is very popular again due to a small group of daring craft brewers.

Raw or new oak, depending on its origin, can impart strong flavors of vanilla and resin. When toasted, those flavors can intensify. It’s hard to say if these flavors were a major part of the flavor profile of early beers.

On the one hand, English brewers did not line their wooden casks, suggesting that they either welcomed the flavors from the wood or the beer simply may not have had the contact time to impart any flavor.

German brewers, on the other hand, lined their casks with pitch. This did two things; it sealed the barrels making them airtight, and it protected the beer from unwanted oak flavors.

Today, however, it’s a whole new game.

Craft beer is all about bold flavors and if you can bring a whole new set of big flavors to the game by barrel-aging then there are brewers who will try it. Today’s barrel-aged beer doesn’t stop with simple oak flavors, though. I’ve seen many beers aged in former port barrels, sherry barrels, even red and white wine barrels. I’ve even tasted some Japanese craft beers aged in cedar barrels that were quite nice.

But early barrel-aged craft beers relied heavily on the bourbon industry. Bourbon barrels cannot be used indefinitely by distillers, having given up most of their flavors to the whiskey. But the barrels, which would otherwise be destroyed, are perfect for beer storage. Bourbon Barrel-aged beers have a noticeable whiskey/bourbon aroma without the heady alcoholic punch. Look for stouts, imperial stouts, and porters to be barrel-aged. The burnt, smoky characteristics of these styles blend perfectly with bourbon flavors.

Think Irish coffee.

With the growing popularity of Belgian-style beers, barrel-aging really has hit its sweet spot. Belgian beers are tough to define, and I’ll leave that to a later article, but suffice it to say that anything goes.

Sour flavors, fruit flavors, smoky/estery flavors, just about anything can be found in the many, uniquely different Belgian beers, all of which can be complimented with barrel-aging. Particularly with Flanders brown ales and Flemmish sours. The acidity of these beers is derived from a combination of wild yeast, lactic acid, and a myriad of bacteria. These critters can imbed themselves in the wood and impart flavor for many successive batches of beer. If you’ve not had a Belgian barrel-aged sour beer, like New Belgium Brewery’s La Folie, I highly recommend it, just for the experience.

It’s hard to say if barrel-aged beers will make a lasting inroad to craft brewing or be nothing more than a footnote. Some of the styles are pretty esoteric; some are sublime and some, well, pretty weird. But as long as there are both innovative brewers and brewers who want to preserve old brewing techniques, barrel-aged beers will have a place at the table for some time.

We’re almost through January, have your resolutions held up?

A lot of people (OK, me) were resolute in trying to live healthier lives. That includes exercising more, eating right and cutting back on beer.

Since these people (me again) generally love beer, two out of three isn’t bad. Actually, I have been cutting back. I’d like to think I’m not drinking less, I’m drinking better. After all, it’s in moderation that that the true health benefits of beer can be seen.

You didn’t know there were health benefits to beer? It’s true.

The number one killer in the United States is heart disease, and according to research done at the Harvard School of Public Health moderate consumption of beer can reduce the risk of heart attack in otherwise healthy men by 40-60 percent compared to men who abstain. Moderate consumption is defined as two 12-ounce beers a day for men and one for women.

In a separate study, also by Harvard, it was found that moderate alcohol consumption can reduce the formation of blood clots. These clots can form in arteries in the heart and brain, which is a common cause of stroke.

Tied in with both of the above benefits is a study by the Beth Israel Deaconess Medical School that showed men with hypertension who consume alcohol in moderation have a lower risk of heart attacks.

And it’s not just good news for men.

In a study by the American Heart Association, it was shown that moderate consumption of beer can increase cognitive function in women. And if you’re over 65, moderate drinkers have a lower risk of dementia, even lower than non-drinkers. The high levels of silicon in beer can even help younger women in preventing bone loss.

Beer has no fat and no cholesterol. It is also loaded with B vitamins (B, B6, and B12) which aid in everything from hemoglobin production to increased energy levels to a brighter complexion.

The United States Department of Agriculture reviewed 50 separate studies and found that the overall mortality rate, across all scenarios, for men and women, was lowest amongst those who had one to two drinks a day, even lower than for those who abstain.

The alcohol in beer also has a calming effect which can reduce stress, help with sleep and also with digestion.

It’s no wonder that people who drink beer report fewer instances of poor health than do people who abstain, according to a study by the Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health.

Researchers at Oregon State University have found that hops contain a certain flavonoid called xanthohumol that has shown great promise in the fight against prostate cancer, colon cancer, and may even aid in hormone replacement therapy for women.

Levels in beer may prove too little for these purposes, but it’s nice to know that hops research for increased flavor contribution discovered this potential lifesaver.

Now, having said all this it is important to stress, again, that all these benefits not only disappear but they can also get reversed once you go past the point of moderation.

And, no, it isn’t cumulative; you can’t skip a drink for five days and make up for it on Saturday night.

Here’s to your health.

I’ve always insisted that bottling beer is a major feat of technology and engineering. That is, if it’s 1908.

Actually, bottling is a fine way to get beer into the hands of those who want to drink it. And, despite my joke, it has advanced technologically over the last century. It just has so many potential flaws and economic drawbacks it’s a wonder that beer bottles haven’t gone the way of the dinosaur in favor of some other method of packaging like, oh, say, cans for instance.

Beer has many enemies, and I’m not talking about prohibitionists. Perhaps the greatest foe in terms of keeping beer fresh is oxygen. Oxygen staling in beer is a complicated chemical pathway. So, let’s just say that a very little oxygen can ruin a great deal of beer.

If you look at a bottle you’ll notice it isn’t filled all the way to the top. What’s in there? Hopefully it’s filled with CO2, but you can’t always get all of the air out. And when there is as much headspace as in a bottle then there’s that much more oxygen.

Sunlight is also a sworn enemy of beer. When sunlight hits beer it actually alters some of the hop compounds which create a distinct musky aroma. To brewers it’s called being light-struck. But to most people it’s called skunky beer. For the most part brown bottles have solved the problem, but if your favorite beer comes in a green or clear bottle you’ve probably noticed it.

Aside from flavor changes and staling, bottles are expensive.

They’re heavy, which means it costs more to ship them from glass-maker to brewer. They also require a cap, a label (sometimes two), a six pack carton, and a case carton. Not only do these things raise the costs of bottled beer, but in terms of the environment there is a lot of extra packaging that has to be disposed of.

Aluminum cans solve most of these problems: there is very little headspace in a can, they’re impervious to sunlight, they’re lightweight, made of recyclable material, don’t require labels, and, oh yeah, they don’t break. This means they’re welcome at campgrounds, golf courses and fishing trips.

So, why aren’t bottles extinct? One word: stigma.

It reminds me of the screw-top vs. cork controversy that the winemakers are mixed up in. It’s proven that screw-tops keep certain wines fresher, longer. But screw-tops are often equated with inexpensive or inferior wine. And it’s true on the beer side too; despite all of the positives when it comes to using cans people still think it is somehow a cheap product or that it “tastes like the can.”

However, thanks to many pioneering craft brewers around the country, and even several here in Arizona, that stigma is changing. Big, flavorful beer does belong in a can and people are starting to realize that just because it is packaged the same as some mega-brew you’d find at a convenience store it sure doesn’t taste that way. And as far as tasting like the can, it’s not true.

The patented (and secret) process for lining modern cans makes it virtually impossible to extract any flavor from the aluminum.

We caught ourselves the other day.  We caught ourselves trying to find the Next Big Thing; the next great beer; the hot new beer style.

What a joke…

We were asked the other day what sort of market research we did.  What sort of surveys we sampled to come up with new styles that the customer base is clamoring for.  We thought for a second, is that what other people are doing?  Should we maybe tell a little fib and make something up about consumer sampling or studying Nielsen trends.  We thought that would really make us look like we know what we’re doing.

Then it struck us; that would show that we really DIDN’T know what we were doing.

You see, there’s a mini arms race going on in the craft brewing world these days.  Basically it comes down to who can out do whom.  Whose is bigger, whose is stronger, and whose marketing is the cleverest?  And, admittedly, we got caught up in it.  We were thinking of a style for this year’s Winter Wobbler, our winter seasonal that is a different beer every year.  We asked ourselves, what is white-hot in the brewing world right now?  We looked around and decided that the new thing, the next craze, is going to be Black IPA’s.  IPA’s are definitely big right now and Black IPA’s are a small and buzzworthy sub-style that is really making some waves.  Cool, we thought, we’ll do that.

Then the Minutiae Minutemen got involved; the beer-hipsters that have to be the first, and by being the first then, of course, you get to name it, categorize it, set up rock-solid guidelines from which you cannot deviate, and, generally, beat it to death.  You see, Black India Pale Ale just wouldn’t work; how can something be both black and pale?   And, dammit, this beer was (supposedly) born in the Pacific Northwest, it should be named for that region (like, if it were brewed anywhere else it would be something else, entirely).  So the cool crowd came up with, wait for it…  Cascadian Dark Ale.

That pretty much settled it for us; no Black IPA, sorry, no CDA…

It just seemed a bit like watching Frank Sinatra sing Lady Ga Ga at a Greek wedding; just not us.  Not that we couldn’t make one (we still might), it would probably kick-ass.  We just don’t feel like mashing ourselves up in what’s hip and trendy.

So, we hunkered down and did the sort of in-depth market research that has made us the biggest and best craft brewery in the state; we asked ourselves, “What do WE want to drink?”

You know, we’ve always loved a nice Baltic Porter…

Across the Valley and state, I’m noticing more craft brew taps and more menus welcoming the pairing of food and beer.

There’s actually a name for these upstart restaurants and cafes: gastropubs. The word is a mix of gastronomy and public house, or pub.

Gastronomy is often thought to be solely about food and cooking but it actually has a strong social science component. It’s the study of a region’s cultural and societal make-up and its influences on the foods found there.

A public house is essentially a drinking establishment most often associated with Great Britain, and beer. But the word often conveys that a pub is more of a neighborhood gathering place, thus the nickname “local.” In London you could find out a lot about a person by simply asking, “So, what’s your local?”

The idea of gastropubs actually started in England when several forward thinking pub owners hired chefs, re-vamped their menus and started providing artfully prepared dishes paired with local beer, and, yes, wine. There’s much ado about what exactly a gastropub is. But let’s say it’s just slightly more bar/restaurant than restaurant/bar. It’s a place you could go just for a drink but it happens to have a menu that’s a lot better than your average pub-grub.

The kind of gastropubs I’m seeing pop are combining eclectic American casual cuisine with a solid list of regional craft beers. Many include a wine list, too, but when there are more than six to eight taps and a bottled beer list twice that big, it tells me they care about beer.

A gastropub is different than a brewpub, where beer is made and sold on-site by one brewer (like Four Peaks or Sun Up Brewery). Typically, a gastropub has many different breweries on tap.

A good example of what a local gastropub looks like is Matt Poole’s Roosevelt Tavern in Phoenix.

It has all the ingredients: an inviting atmosphere, 12 taps populated by local and regional craft beer, upwards of 20 bottle selections and several craft beers in cans. The food at the Roosevelt is also inventive without being pretentious.

Matt Diamond’s Main Ingredient Alehouse & Cafe is also a great example of someone taking beer off the back page of the menu and putting it front and center. Sit at the bar and sample some beers with an order of the Pro-Pasto and it’s easy to imagine how the combinations of flavors in beer and food could seem endless.

There are several others worth mentioning: Culinary Dropout in Scottsdale, The Vig in Phoenix, the Hungry Monk in Chandler, the Raven in Prescott and Red, White and Brew in Mesa. Also, if you like a lot of beer choices, try the Yardhouse (Valley-wide) with over 100 taps.

There are even some places that I would consider specialized gastropubs that focus on one cuisine like Mellow Mushroom Pizza and even Moto Sushi, both in Phoenix.

The thing that all these places have in common is a dedication to beer and its ability pair with fresh, local foods. They have taken the leap and added taps in order to support local beers the way they support local farmers or local wineries. They recommend beer and food pairings, they host beer dinners, and, to say the least, they are excited about the possibilities of beer and food.

The first thing people think they need to do when tasting a beer is to sniff, or nose, the beer.  But wait a minute, we hear chefs saying all the time that we eat with our eyes first, and the same goes with drinking.  With the 8th Street, as with all pale ales the color should fall within a specific range.  Brewers determine color by using degrees Lovibond or EBC.  These are simple color scales used for reference.  We won’t bore you with that. For a lay person, a pale ale should fall between a bright polished copper color to a deep bronze.  Anything lighter and it’s more of a summer ale and any darker it goes more amber or brown ale.  Lighter in color may also indicate less of a caramel flavor with the converse being true as well, but we’re not there yet.  8th Street should also present itself as brilliantly clear or bright.  Because we drink with our eyes first it is important to us that the beer be free of haze so that the light can expand the wonderful color.

Now we can sniff it.  The 8th St. Ale is an English style pale ale which typically means that the nose or aroma will be more floral as opposed to citrusy, which would mark an American pale ale.  This floral, and some would even say earthy, aroma comes primarily from English variety hops; Goldings and Fuggles in particular.  These have been used in pale ales for centuries.  We get our pronounced aroma from both the whirlpool addition and by dry-hopping, or adding hops directly to the fermenter after a week’s time.  Both late additions preserve the very volatile aromas in hops.  Also in the nose of an 8th St. Ale you will find whiffs of caramel malt which present themselves as being sweet or even bready.  We want these aromas to be as balanced as possible in the nose; balance between malt and hop is the key to a great pale ale.

Let’s taste it.  We’re back to balance here in that we aimed to balance the inherent sweetness in malt with the natural bitterness of the hops.  Too sweet and you have more of a Scottish ale, to bitter and you’re leaning to either an IPA or an American pale ale.  Let’s talk malt first.  Ideally pale ales should contain around 80-90% two-row, or base malt (the stuff in the silo in the back that makes up the majority of any grist bill, or recipe), and around 10-20% caramel malt which is the same kind of malt that is in the silo except that the maltster has kilned these kernels while still wet which crystallizes, or caramelizes, the sugars making it sweeter and toastier.  It’s a strong flavor so a little can go along way. At this level we’re getting a slight candy sweetness and that copper color we mentioned above.  Too much caramel malt can get a little raison-y.  The hops bring a balancing bitterness to the party but it also brings some hop flavor which can be best described as earthy, vegetal and giving a general fresh taste to the beer.  The best thing about a balanced pale ale is not the distinct flavors of the ingredients but how the flavors work in concert to create others.

Two other major aspects of flavor are the water used and the yeast.  Water can contribute by adding a mineral dryness to the beer as is the case with 8th Street Ale.  We use reverse osmosis water here which means that we can add back to it the salts and minerals found in the great brewing regions of the world.  Pale ales were founded, or perhaps perfected, in Burton-on-Trent in England.  The water there was notably hard and minerally due the very chalky soil, which enhances the overall perception of hops and lends to that characteristic dryness.  Perhaps, though, no other factor contributes to flavor and aroma more than yeast.  Different yeasts create different levels of fermentation by-products; a huge array of volatile aromas and flavors some reminiscent of burnt butter, or cooked corn, or even wet leather.  Some of these flavors are undesirable and can be eliminated or reduced but some are essential to certain styles.

Another overlooked aspect of beer which can and should be related to flavor and aroma are the tactile aspects in a pint, specifically body, or mouthfeel, and carbonation.  Body is determined by the brewer in the first stages of the process by manipulating what enzymes will create what sugars.  Yeast consumes sugar and the simpler the better.  But there are some complex sugars that are not readily metabolized which create body and a sense of fullness.  Carbonation lends a lightness and liveliness to the beer but at high levels it dominates with a belly-bloating spritziness.  Also the carbonic acid found in CO2 can contribute a slight astringency.  If you’re at all interested in seeing what a lower carbonated beer can taste like try a cask-conditioned 8th Street next to one from the tap.  It’s personal preference but sometimes lower CO2 can bring out flavors that aren’t there when on tap.

Well, we’re getting a little long winded and we don’t want to completely de-mystify the 8th Street.  Sometimes enjoying a beer is just enjoying a beer, but we hope that this inside look at the 8th Street Ale will lead you to seek out other flavors and aromas in this great pale ale.

Thanksgiving dinner holds great memories for my family and me: the aromas coming from the kitchen; football on TV; cool, crisp air outside and a nice glass of wine to go with the meal.

We downed some terrific wines with those dinners. But Thanksgiving didn’t get really good until we took the beer we usually drank in front of the TV and put it on the table where it belongs.

In many ways, beer goes much better than wine with Thanksgiving dinner. Beer simply has more flavors and aromas to choose from. It’s made from four ingredients, not two. And it has a secret weapon that I’ll mention later.

Here are a few suggestions for a Thanksgiving Day beer menu.

Before the meal: When your guests arrive, you’ll want to give them something to sip, but you won’t want to blow their palates away with something as strong as an India pale ale or imperial stout. Think light, maybe kölsch, a German-style ale brewed like a pilsner. Kölsch has many of the same light malt characters as a pilsner but with less hop bitterness.

And because it’s made with ale yeast, it tends to be fruitier, which makes it a perfect starter.

In our house, pre-dinner bites usually involve cheese, and there are few culinary marriages better than beer and cheese. Over the years, wine has co-opted cheese as a natural partner, but honestly, cheese is far better with beer, thanks to beer’s secret weapon: carbonation.

Carbonation cuts through some of the heavier aspects of cheese while brightening its subtle flavors.

Classic beer and cheese pairings include pale ales with Cheddars, Hefeweizens with fresh cheeses like mozzarella or Scamorza, and brown ales or mild porters with nuttier cheeses like Gruyere or Manchego.

If your appetizers don’t include cheese, just remember to complement or contrast flavors.

A spinach artichoke dip would go well with that kölsch, and a hoppy pale ale would make a nice foil to a garlicky bruschetta.

Have fun with it, but at this point in the game, steer clear of the big heavy beers that would overpower the upcoming star of the show.

With the turkey: No one prepares turkey quite the same way, so let’s look at beers for different preparations.

First, traditional roasted turkey, with its browned and caramelized flavors mixed with aromas of sage and other herbs, is perfect with Scottish or Scotch ale. You’ll notice a lot of carry-over flavor from these beers to the roasted bird, which means, of course, that Scotch ale also complements the stuffing.

Whole smoked turkey is perfect with both porter and stout. The burnt flavors of the roasted malts in these beers go great with the smokiness of the meat. A smoked porter would also work well, but you’ve really got to love smoke.

Deep-fried turkey, our family favorite, gets a lot of its flavor from the flavor injection done prior to cooking. Some people use Cajun or barbecue marinades. At my house, we go with a simple butter, bay leaf and Sriracha combination (yeah, we like it hot), which pairs well with a hoppy, bitter IPA. That may seem counter intuitive, given that big wines and spicy foods aren’t matches made in heaven, but bitter beer flavors go surprisingly well with spicy heat.

With dessert: Many flavors in beer echo or complement the flavors found in classic desserts. For example, stouts, which often have a sweet, malty, cocoa or toffee character, pair well with chocolate, while fruit beers like Belgian Framboise (raspberry) or Peche (peach) complement fruit pies or tarts.

Hefeweizens, which often reveal a flavor profile of banana and clove, are delicious with desserts that have those same ingredients in them.

IPAs are so distinctive that you might naturally assume they could never work with desserts. Nevertheless, their bitterness can be tamed by something ultra-sweet such as creme brulee. And pumpkin pie would seem naked without one of the many seasonal pumpkin beers like Punkin’ Ale from Dogfish Head Brewery.

After-dinner beers: When everyone is stuffed and winding down, it’s time to break out the Barleywines and Double IPAs, the big brews that play counterpart to after-dinner brandies and ports. Boasting flavors of dark caramel, cooked raisins or bitter, bracing hops, these are high-alcohol beers that lend themselves to sipping. If you can still fit in a bite or two, try a nice, stinky cheese like Stilton with these big beers.

These suggestions are merely guidelines to get you started. Experiment on your own and don’t worry about making mistakes. It’s just beer. You can’t really go wrong.

It’s time for another installment of “What The Hell Am I Tasting”.  This time it’s our flagship beer, Kilt Lifter.  And, again, in the spirit of not completely demystifying the beer we’re going to keep it simple and touch on the obvious aroma and flavor high points.  You really can overanalyze things to the point of not enjoying them, “worts” and all.  Sometimes, we too, just like to have a beer.

First, a style note.  Kilt Lifter is technically a Scottish-Style Ale and specifically a Scottish-style Export Ale.  The style is marked by a distinct malty sweetness with some burnt or smoky flavors with a strong but not lip-numbing alcohol content of around 6%.  The high malt content is due to the abundance of barley in Scotland but also in part to a high tax rate on hops, which were not so prevalent in the north but abundant in England.  And if it comes from England it will be taxed.  The Scottish said, “Fine, we’ll do it our way”, as they are genetically pre-disposed to do, and there you have it, Scottish-Style Ale.

See it. Kilt Lifter has a beautiful dark copper, almost bronze color which comes not just from the addition of caramel malt (which gives more redness) but also the use of a small amount of roasted barley.  At this low level you get hints of brown, at high levels you get porter and eventually stout inkiness.  Again, the beer should be brilliantly clear (bright, in brewer’s parlance).  Also notice the foam (if there is no foam on your beer please have the bartender either re-pour it or top it off.  Beer must have a head).  It should be an eggshell, off-white color and consist of tight, tiny bubbles.

Sniff it. A quick note on smelling, most of what we perceive as flavor is actually derived from our olfactory bulb in our sinus.  On the one hand, we can actually only perceive four tastes on our tongue; sweet, sour, bitter, and salty (some say there is a fifth flavor; umami (savory), including us). On the other hand, the nose can perceive thousands of compounds. Doubt it?  Hold your nose then drink a beer, or better yet, hold an onion under your nose and eat an apple, you’ll swear you’re eating an onion.  The nose is so effective that it even works in reverse.  After we swallow we often breathe out through our nose and, subsequently, over our olfactory bulb, gaining more insight into favor.  A good example is that burps don’t have any flavor, yet, to us, they do.

The first impression should be of lightly toasted malt.  There are no late additions of hops in Kilt Lifter, stylistically hop aroma should be minimal to none at all.  This is a good beer to show malt’s distinct aroma.  It’s grainy and toasty and a little sweet, not unlike fresh bread.  If you’re curious as to malt’s aroma you can buy malt powder in the store.  You will get a little burnt toast aroma from the roasted barley as well.  Roasted barley is just that; it’s barley that has been put into a drum roaster and cooked at 500 degrees until a rich, black color is achieved.  If you’re thinking that this sounds a lot like coffee then you get a gold star; same process, same chemical reactions, and, not surprisingly, some of the same flavors.  Next, we get fruit, specifically apricots or dried apricots.  This is an ester that is unique to our proprietary strain of ale yeast and you’ll get this aroma in all of our more malty beers.  Fruity aromas are really a signature of ales that you won’t find in most lagers.  Remember, there are thousands of aromatic compounds in beer, these are just the obvious ones in this beer.

Sip it. Actually, take a good pull (we just needed an “s” word for continuity), nobody sips beer, it’s meant to be taken by the mouthful.  Notice the same flavors that we anticipated from our nose; toasty, malty, a little sweet, some light coffee or tea and maybe some smoky burnt flavors.  You’ll also notice the bitterness is there but not overpowering.  Remember, good ales are always balanced.  You may also notice some heat once you swallow.  That’s the alcohol which has a distinct flavor but in most beers it’s perceived in a tactile way.  That is, as heat or as body (higher alcohol contents will give greater mouthfeel).  You should notice, as well, the carbonation which lends some acidity.

Repeat.  Repeat.  Re-order.

That’s as far as we’ll go with this one.  It’s no fun being told what you should perceive in a beer.  Go out and trust you nose.

On the surface Sunbru is a very simple beer with a simple recipe, basically just two-row malt and a little wheat malt with a small, balancing addition of German hops.  The truth is that Sunbru has a lot of complexities if you’re willing to seek them out.

See It. If there is any better example of the color that two-row, or base malt, contributes than in a Sunbru we don’t know it.  It is a golden, almost straight yellow in appearance, which, it seems, would promise a one dimensional flavor.  The head is a stark white with tight, but not creamy, bubbles.

Sniff it. The aroma seems to open up much more of the complexity than the color would indicate.  We get hints of honey, some biscuit, and in there somewhere is a distinct aroma of chardonnay.  Perhaps it’s the very slight sulfur that reminds us of that noble grape.  It should be said that since Sunbru is made of such a humble recipe that these distinct and different aromas are derived mainly from the yeast.  It’s a proprietary strain that we “borrowed” from a great Kolsch producer in the Midwest (yes, we got permission; to use it, not to share it).  It’s not an easy yeast to use since it is very powdery and doesn’t seem to want to settle out after fermentation, which would be fine if Kolsch wasn’t meant to be absolutely clear in appearance.  Let’s just say it makes for some challenging filtrations but we wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Its many aroma and flavor contributions are the benchmark for the style.  Spend some time and see what you come up with.

Sip it. The first impression is of the mildly sweet, bready (not yeasty) flavor.  Close behind is a spiciness that can only come from German hops.  It’s a flavor akin to black pepper but without the heat.  Then, it goes refreshingly bitter.  Next, we notice something that seemingly shouldn’t be there; weight.  That is, body.  For such a light beer it has a mouth-coating feel to it.  This is, most likely, due the water we’ve constructed for this beer.  It’s very soft with a small portion of calcium chloride which gives Sunbru its noticeable mouthfeel.  Let it warm up and a whole new set of flavors become evident.

On a side note, Sunbru is really the perfect beer for our brewing philosophy.  It’s not over-powering by any means but it delivers a lot of flavor and complexity.  It has many dimensions that reveal themselves as it warms, and, most importantly, it leaves you wanting more.  We know this beer gets its fair share of knocks from the beer geeks out there but maybe it’s just not for those who need a beer to bludgeon their taste buds.  What fun is that?  Sometimes the challenge is in really diving into the subtleties of what is a truly challenging beer.

Let’s get a couple of things out of the way.

First, why do we still make a fruit beer, hasn’t that fad passed?

Apparently not.  Although it’s nowhere near being our best seller it causes some of the greatest stir amongst the customers when it runs out; dirty looks, nasty e-mails, pitchforks, torches, whole bit.  So we keep it around.  In fact our Peach Ale is one of our original beers so it’s got some pedigree from the days when just about everyone made a fruit beer.  Retro is cool, right?

Second, and this is for men only; does drinking a fruit beer make you any less of a man?

We would say no.  On the one hand you have some people who drink only double IPAs or monster barleywines in some attempt to seem manlier (these are the same guys who eat habaneros and pretend it doesn’t have any effect on them.  You know who you are).  Some call this compensation.  On the other hand, you have guys who drink fruit beers that may be so well adjusted to their manhood, so comfortable in their own skin, that they may actually be even more manly than suspected.  OK, just a theory.

If you haven’t guessed by now this week’s “What the Hell Am I Tasting” subject is the Peach Ale.

See it. You’ll notice a slight haze in this beer.  Unavoidable really, since we use a fruit puree/concentrate after filtration.  It was a decision made all those years ago to preserve the flavor and aroma without completely fouling up the filter with peach bits.  Plus, whole fruit is a pain in the butt.  It’s dirty, it’s expensive, it goes bad; no thanks.  Lazy?  We prefer “crafty”; we found a substitute that works better than the real thing.

Sniff it. When we developed this beer it was our intention to make a fruit-BEER, not a FRUIT-beer.  The way we went about it was to get as much peach aroma in the beer as possible without getting too much peach flavor.  So the aroma is quite strong and rather one dimensional (although there is some noticeable malt aroma as well).  It was easier for us to suggest peach rather than bludgeon you with it since smell makes up about 90% of what you taste.

Sip it. See, not much peach flavor, more like an actual beer, huh?  Here’s a good test; hold your nose and then drink it.  The peach gets really reduced and you’re left with a mildly sweet, somewhat fruity, but not overwhelming, beer.  Just what we wanted.

OK, time for a tough admission; Peach Ale is not our favorite.  There, we said it.  It’s difficult, it’s like saying one of your children is not your favorite.  You should love them all equally, and, of course, on some level we do.  The Peach is unique, it has many fans and for that we’re thankful, it’s just not always our cup of tea (now, pair it with a cobbler or some ice-cream and watch us change our tune).  What it is, though, is a great example of the diversity of beer; there’s one for everybody, even the habanero guy…with the monster truck.

The Raj was our first IPA and although it has gone through many changes and revisions the basic beer is much the same as 12 years ago.  That’s because English IPA’s tend to have a tighter style parameter thus allowing for less variance.  They tend to be slightly darker than their cousins across the pond due to a more pronounced caramel malt** presence.  Generally they are lower in alcohol than USAIPA’s (just made up that acronym, we’re crafty like that) but ours is an exception, being slightly stronger than the Hop Knot.  They also tend to have a more muted hop nose.  Not because they use less hops but because the English varieties were bred to have lower levels of an essential oil called Myrcene.  Myrcene is that tell-tale aroma of citrus that marks a true USAIPA.  The Brits didn’t care for this aroma so they grew hops higher in Humulene, which is more floral.  Citrus being a stronger, more pungent aroma than flowers tends to push most USAIPA’s over the top in terms of aroma wow-factor.

But let’s get into it, shall we?

See it. Yep, a deep, rich copper color, darker than Hop Knot for the above mentioned reason; more caramel malt.  It’s also brilliantly clear and, thus, magnitudes more inviting than a murky, unfiltered beer.  It is, as we would say, the color of an IPA; absolutely beautiful.

Sniff it. Yep, floral.  In fact at various times we’ve gotten geraniums, roses as well as some other garden aromas like, and this may sound weird, tomato leaves.  Really.

Next you get the aforementioned caramel notes that tend to push out the bready, base malt aromas; in a good way.  And, as usual, there in the background is the faint aroma of fruit, specifically apricot.  Ale fermentations are known for their fruitiness.  Really, it’s not an ale without some fruity esters.  Our yeast is unique in that it throws a distinct (though faint) apricot aroma.

Sip it. Right away we get a bracing hop bitterness (it’s an IPA after all) tempered with a perceived sweetness from the malt; again caramel malt.  We say perceived sweetness because we know that, being a typical English IPA, The Raj is, in fact, quite dry.  There is the possibility, though, that there are some carbohydrates that remain in the beer that get enzymatically broken down by saliva in your mouth into simpler sugars, a reaction that malt enzymes can’t achieve.  This may also lend some sweetness.

After several sips, the bitterness subsides due to familiarity, and a simple yet elegant hop flavor comes through.  We say elegant as a tip of the hat to our British brewing brethren, many of whom consider American hops to be clunky, harsh or unrefined.  In some cases we can’t argue.  The flavor you’re looking for is slightly earthy and definitely flower-like.  Imagine what it would taste like to roll in a spring flower garden, soil and all.  Sorry, it’s really more appetizing than that sounds, but you get the picture.

So there it is; an albeit brief but close up look at The Raj IPA.

*What’s with the name, you ask?  Raj is a Hindustani word that literally means “reign” and it refers to the British rule over the Indian subcontinent from 1858 to 1947.  We thought it worked quite nicely, old chap.

**Caramel malt is the most widely used of the “specialty malts”.  It is kilned while still wet which literally caramelizes the carbohydrates in the malt.  It imparts a candy sweetness to the beer at low levels and at higher rates can taste down-right raisin-y.  It is also responsible for the copper to red colors in most all beers.

Ahh, “The Stout”, as it is affectionately abbreviated; it is, though, an Oatmeal Stout and if it could slap your face for not showing it the respect it deserves it would.  You see, most Stout today is of the dry, Irish variety though not from birth.  Stout (without oats) originated in England as a variant on the wildly popular Porters of the time and was named, appropriately, Stout Porter, or a stronger porter.  That was later abbreviated to just Stout because it was fundamentally different from many of the day’s porters.  The recipe was taken to Ireland (and some say perfected) by an enterprising young brewer named Arthur Guinness.  Heard of him?  Here’s a little known fact; the brewery sponsored the first Guinness Book of World Records as marketing pamphlet 1954.  Not a bad side gig.

Oatmeal Stout came about as a restorative for nursing mothers at the beginning of last century and has held on as the “English” version of stout ever since.  The oats were seen as supremely healthful and were added to encourage lactation.  Our theory; Mommy just needed a drink.

The addition of oats actually helped to sweeten the beer and it added a little mouth-feel, or body; two things lacking in the Irish variety.  Also, Oatmeal Stouts tend to be a tad stronger in terms of alcohol than their Irish cousins, around 5%.

So, here we go:

See it. Black, right?  Well, not exactly.  In the bar, at night, it certainly appears to be as black as pitch.  But against a strong light one notices a deep garnet ruby color that is quite typical for this style.  Next time order one in our 10-ounce bow-tie glass and you’ll see that the thick glass on the bottom bends the light upward making a nice deep red color appear at the base.

You’ll also see the mark of most draft Stouts; that wonderful cascading effect of the bubbles.  This can only happen in beers that are “nitrogen-ated” as opposed to being carbonated.  Nitrogen is different from CO2 in that it creates smaller bubbles and lacks the accompanying carbonic acid which lends to stout’s creamy, soft character.  The bubbles are so dense that it creates a sort of optical illusion.  It appears that the bubbles are dropping into the beer, but in reality it’s the liquid that is pushing its way down through the mesh of bubbles that will eventually form the tell-tale, dense, almost cream-like head.

Sniff it. Right off you’ll notice the roasty, toffee, caramel aromas from the various malts.  We also get a distinctly chocolate aroma as well.  The sensation is different as well.  Because of the sometimes sharp effect of CO2, Oatmeal Stout is milder, and in a way more inviting.  What you won’t get is the aroma of hops.  Hops play in the background of most stouts solely as a bittering agent.  Hop aroma tends to interfere with the great mix of malt aromas required by the style.  You also won’t smell oats.  Its contribution is solely in the sweet flavor and body.

Sip it. Of course you’ll get the roasty, almost burnt character from the highly kilned malts, but then you get a mild sweetness.  You’ll also notice the bitterness.  It’s different from the bitterness of an IPA because it mainly comes from the black malt.  It’s milder than a hop bitterness.  We also get dried fruits like raisins or blackberries.  Then something happens; it all sort of goes away.  It’s not a lingering type of beer despite its appearance.  It’s not heavy or oily, it’s, well, kind of silky and smooth.

To those of you who religiously drink the Oatmeal Stout, thank you.  If it’s not something you think you’d like or if the appearance and color scare you off, we’d suggest that you give it a shot, just once.  You’ll be surprised, appearances aren’t everything (look at us) and it might be just what you’re looking for.