Special delivery beer pairing: Matzah & Matzah

Full disclosure: Many bloggers receive free beer in the mail, then review it, but fail to mention they're reviewing complimentary samples. Not me. Sometimes I request samples for my stories; sometimes they're just sent. Lately, in addition to receiving emailed press releases about beers, I'm getting releases from various food publicists. The appeal of some of these foodstuffs showing up on my doorstep is fun, but I'm a beer writer not a food writer and it seems wrong to solicit them, then the publicist has nothing to show for it. I've never blogged reviews. Til now. Here begins my series of food sample + beer pairings*. (*IF the suggested beers are comped samples, I'll disclose that.)

Just in time for Passover, I received a box of matzah. Yes, matzah, that unleavened "bread" which is more like a supersized cracker that is enjoyed, or at least consumed, for the entire week that celebrates the Israelites' freedom from slavery in Egypt where, upon a hasty escape, they did not have time to let the bread rise. For this reason, Jews eschew leavened products. Already, pairing matzah with beer (fermented with yeast) sounds unkosher.

Osem Israeli Orange-flavored Chocolate-coated Matzah grabbed me because chocolate-orange is one of my favorite flavor combos. One of the last things I ate before moving from San Francisco was a pint of Swensen's Swiss Orange Chip ice cream. This is definitely a dessert or snack item and probably not something you'd find at a traditional Seder table. This appeals to both my sweet-tooth and my crunch-tooth. For you see, I crave crunchy foods. Each square of matzah is fully enrobed in dark chocolate that is detectably orangy, but they could've gone a lot further if they'd used natural orange flavor or, better yet, real orange zest! Having said that, I doubt those "Whack & Unwraps," y'know, those round balls of chocolate with various fruit flavors that are popular around Christmastime, have any real essence of fruit in them and those are pretty tasty, too.

For a beer pairing, a good choice may be Ramapo Valley's Passover Honey Beer, the only kosher for Passover beer in the world. This is achieved by brewing a "beer" out of honey making it actually more like mead, a honey wine. But between being impossible to find and being disgusting by all accounts, let's scratch that idea.

One obvious choice is Shmaltz's Jewbelation Vertical under the He'Brew brand. A blend of every Jewbelation from the past 7 years (Jewbelation 8-14), this whiskey barrel aged beer (sample provided) pours thick, almost goopey, and is rich to boot. While not a chocolate-beer, it is chocolatey, almost mocha-y, but also has fruit flavors like fig and date that compliment the chocolate-orange encrusted cracker.

Tied would be Ambacht's Matzobraü from Hillsboro, Ore., brewed with honey and actual matzah, but as it states on the label, it is not kosher for Passover. In fact, it's made right after Passover, using owner/brewer Tom Kramer's leftover "bread of affliction" which he adds right to the mash. You can only find this in about half a dozen bottle shops around Portland, unfortunately. More of a slightly fruity Belgian-style ale and less like liquid matzo brie (especially if you add onions to yours instead of cinnamon and syrup), while not in the least bit citrusy, the honey and banana flavors meld nicely with the hint of orange, and the like-minded bread flavors make this suitable for a mid-meal nosh.

Until the next package shows up, chag sameach Pesach

I love beer people

OK, the Craft Brewers Conference of 2011 in San Francisco is in the record books and I’m beyond late night screeds fueled by the plethora of beers available at the closing round. In fact, I just found a window open on my laptop (I have roughly 45 browsers, Word docs, spreadsheets, etc. open at a time) that had the following intended blog post that I shall post because it’s late, it’s long-winded, and it still rings true:

So glad I got to try Brooklyn’s Sorachi Ace and enjoy more Alltech’s Lexington’s Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale as well as the gamut of New Belgium’s fruited-whiskey-aged iterations of Love on draft on the Toronado. I loved the shit out of the CBC. And it had very little to do with the beers I got to enjoy (including new great stuff from Weyerbacher, New Belgium, Russian River, Cantillon…). It had everything to do with the refrain about what the CBC (and other similar gatherings of the beer community are and yes I believe I’ll forever more refer to the “craft beer industry” as the more familial “beer community”). Family reunions.

The seminars and panels were great and the (selective) swag I picked up from the exhibitors at the trade show aspect are fun (I’m so buying hop oil soap in bulk), but what I loved most was catching up with people. I only left SF four months ago but I do miss it and certainly miss my friends. I get to travel around the country more than most but not as often as I’d like and getting to talk to friends from the road is a huge treat. Plus, there’s always new people to meet as well as faces and handshakes to put to the people/voices I interview as part of my gig. Sorry if I’m getting hippy-dippy/touchy-feely but I love the beer people.

I’m semi bad at keeping up with all the Tweets, Facebook status updates, blog posts, and the like. When I encountered Patrick Rue at the California Academy of Sciences during the opening reception, just outside the biosphere I often used to appreciate, I found out his awesome wife Rachel got rid of the baby bump I last saw her with because they are now the proud parents of 2-month-old Charlotte (coincidentally named after Rachel’s grandmother). Yes, he grossed me out with tales of wiping poopy bits out of her baby hoo-ha, but c’est la vie and I’m damn happy for them.

After all this time of half-assedly keeping their romantical tryst on the DL, I found out at the Fillmore party that Arne Johnson and Betsey Hensley are officially shacking up. How many times do you know a couple that you only like half of them? Not that I had doubts these two wouldn’t last, but I’m always up for people increasing the happy and almost wish I had moved into Half Pint’s old apartment (all 450 square feet of it) since it was in Arne’s (now Betzy’s) hood and we could go for a beer and a bite with them at The Belltower just up the block.

Immediately after, I bumped into Richard Brewery-Hay and his wife Allie. They like to say they each married a brewer (he was born Master Hay, she Ms. Brewer). But seriously, not sure if he’s luckier for finding a gal like Allie or finding someone named Brewer. They were on cloud nine since earlier in the day, Arizona shocked Duke in the Sweet 16 of the NCAA tournament, and ‘Zona happens to be where they met. Couple this with celebrating her 40th b-day and having Mom back home watching their adorable daughters (I told Half Pint if she has kids they have to be boys but if they’re girls they have to as adorable as the Brewer-Hay’s.) As for beer-related discussions, Richard says progress marches on regarding turning his basement-based brewery into a genuine brewpub.

Of course, this sort of thing went on and on, which is why the week went by so quickly. But it was also great meeting new people since isn't that the whole point of the camaraderie about which this community thrives? While I've read this guy--and precious few homebrewers haven't--I found myself talking to John Palmer and while I suppose I could've spent that opportunity to talk homebrew (which we did, a li'l), instead we geeked out on Rush and I'm dying to see 'em again when they play here (OK, somewhere north of Vancouver, WA) in June. Totes! This was fitting because I'd started the week hanging out with recent SF-transplants William and Jessi who have co-written/designed a tome about homebrew...one gallon at a time. I guess it makes more sense if you live(d) in Brooklyn. But they're a great beer couple and I almost felt that it was cosmic how they landed in SF right about the time Half Pint & I departed.

Actually, that's all I'd written. I probably started dozing asleep or something because the next sentence I'd typed was leading into a story I remember about some philandering Midwest brewers and I vaguely remember thinking how rare shit-talking actually is (and no, I was or will not name them or link to their respective beers they're responsible for). At the same time, it shows that beer people are just like anybody else...we drink, sometimes too much, sometimes talk about things we shouldn't, but in the end, we're family and we stick together, because we have no choice, and like it that way.

I hate "craft beer"

It's the last night of the Craft Brewers Conference so, yes, I'm a mite craft beered out. But that's not why I'm saying I hate "craft beer," because the fact is, I'll always love it and I pledge my undying love for it. The fact that ANYONE can ever try it and then go back to "macro" or industrial beer is beyond me, but that's for another post, perhaps one about Ron Lindenbusch's "craft beer onion" that I heard him talk about (oh gawd, I think it was him...it's been a long, beerful week) at the Lagunitas Brewery where he serves as "Beer Weasel." OK, fine, since I'm on this tangent early on I'll stick with it and make it transition back to my subject at hand about how I hate "craft beer." He was talking about layers of craft beer drinkers being like the layers of an onion. How you have the diehard beer geeks at the small core. Then around it, a larger circle of folks who drink brands by larger craft breweries. One think I learned at the Lagunitas/Anchor retreat (among the many; man did they pull out all the stops!) was that the five largest craft brewers rake in 45% of the craft segment of the beer industry.
By the numbers: an interlude
For those that know me, you know I'm not a numbers guy. But I am a guy who knows the numbers. Here's some interesting and pertinent ones, and all of these are rounded up or down, so if I'm off a percentage point here or a million dollars there, just deal. The US Beer industry does $100 billion/yr. It does so by brewing 200 million barrels/yr. Of that, the craft segment accounts for 5% by volume (meaning 10 million barrels) and almost 7% by revenue (so almost $7 billion). That barrelage and dollarage is divvied up among the 1700 smaller breweries ranging from large regionals to mid-sized microbrewers to a ton of pint-sized nanobreweries. Collectively, the craft industry grew by 11% last year, continuing its steady growth, despite the economy and increased competition.

Ask the smaller guys and the competition is the industrial, foreign-owned brands. Ask the larger ones and they'll shy away from admitting that the competition is the other larger small-brewers. So let's get back to those top 5 and keep in mind that the largest 8% of the producers account for 80% of the volume, so sayeth the Brewers Association's industry publication The New Brewer. You know the ones. Boston Beer Co. (aka Sam Adams). Sierra Nevada. New Belgium (aka Fat Tire to some folks). Pyramid. And I guess there's one other, but for some reason it's not Widmer Bros or Widmer/Redhook/Kona/Goose Island. Don't ask me the reason, it's too long-winded. But, for better and for worse (but mostly for the better), these are all "craft breweries" and will remain so for the foreseeable future. How many craft breweries outgrow that title and become macrobreweries? Roughly none. But there's some wiggle room because of the likes of Widmer, Redhook, BridgePort, Pyramid, and others. And this has very little to do with the few things I don't like about the craft beer industry and nothing to do with what I hate about "craft beer."

OK, so quit beating around the bush, right? What I hate about "craft beer" is the title. I guess I agree that it's the best name it's been given, which is a result of a years-long marketing push by the BA and members of the craft beer community on the whole--community meaning those in the industry as well as fans and supporters alike. Originally it was "microbrew" but that'd be a super tiny beer, wouldn't it. Then the Big Boys fought back and there was a media backlash and it was cynically labeled "boutique beer." So now it's called "craft beer" and it makes my mouth tired having to say "craft" all the time and it makes my ears more tired hearing people say it.

It's "beer." Can't we just call it beer?!? Since we beer lovers, by and large, like making fun of wine people (they even have a fancy name for themselves: oenophiles), tell me your nose doesn't crinkle a little every time you hear the phrase "fine wine" or "a nice bottle of wine." It's a given that oenophiles are drinking fine wine, since no way would they be pounding goblets of boxed or jug wine. Likewise, no one reading this slams tallboys of Bud or does kegstands sucking down (or up) Natty Light (anymore). YES, Miller Lite and Schlitz and Sam Adams Boston Lager and Russian River Pliny the Younger are all technically beer even if we are remiss to refer to the first two as actually being so. But while the latter two are enjoyed by different crowds, consumers of the former two would never, ever imbibe a Sammy or a Pliny. That's because those consumers are sheeple. They do not know that beer is artful and indulgent and philanthropic and tasty. To them, and those manufacturers, it is a commodity. To those on the craft side, it is an artisan product.

As I've always said, take the music industry. There are major labels and there are indie labels. The majors record, release, and promote their products, which is how Justin Bieber blew up and why Miley Cyrus is huge. Those records are easily marketed to impressionable consumers but they are not art. It is a commodity, intended to be sold or downloaded by the millions/minions. In fact, the industry measures in terms of "units." Indie bands get their start in garages, much like microbrewery founders started homebrewing in the garages next door. And just like music is broken down into styles (bubblegum, rock'n'roll, metal, punk, folk, psycho-thrash-screamo-core) and beer is likewise (American Premium Light Lager, IPA, stout, Maibock, Barrel-aged Imperial Schwarzbier refermented with Brettanomyces), in the end, music is music and beer is beer. You don't have to like it all. But ideally, anyone who listens to the stuff that isn't commoditized can respect something else they don't purchase and anyone who drinks the stuff not advertised during the Super Bowl, et al can respect something they don't choose to imbibe. One thing craft/indie fans have in common is that we get all sanctimonious and say "(Insert Top 40 Band Here)? That's not music!" or "Bud Select 55?" That's not beer!"

So given that, why can't we just call "craft beer" what it IS--BEER. Why let 3-4 brewing concerns ruin it for the other 1700 by co-opting the term? Can't we call our side of the spectrum beer and label that side something else, perhaps "crap beer"? Why do the Big Boys get to be called "domestics" when not a single one of those companies is American-owned? All the true domestics have owners who live in our own communities. So let us never turn into people who might one day say "I enjoy a nice, little Berlinerweisse" or "Like a fine Bavarian Pilsner" because if it's worth your money, your time, and your consumption, of course it's good. It'd save 50% of our breath from uttering craft beer and we'd get to drinking it that much sooner.

Freelance update

I'm a bad beer blogger. I don't post nearly often enough. But while this doesn't help my Wikio ranking, it's a good sign because that means I'm focusing on freelance gigs. (Or other events such as the "Bangers and Beers for the Birds" fundraiser I was invited to participate in at the G2 Gallery last week. My favorite person I met was the 70-year-old woman who said she buys 2-3 new beers each trip to the market.) Nearly all of them are for print media since I'm old school like that. Some people keep their to-do lists on their smart phones, I keep a dry erase board on my wall by my desk. I swear I'd use hieroglyphics if I had endless wall or cave space.
More and more, these magazines post content on their websites, so, looking for my latest stories, here's what I've found:

All About Beer: Being all about exploring good beer and road trips, I was stoked when they asked me to take over the Beer Traveler column. Not so stoked that it doesn't come with an infinite travel budget to go off anywhere I choose. But it does put me in touch with people-in-the-know all over the country and even the world to hit up when I personally visit the destinations I write about. The most recent on posted, fittingly, is about northern locales for beer tripping in the winter. Fitting b/c it's so cold here I'm wearing my fingerless gloves and drinking a Bridgeport Kingpin Double Red for warmth. I'm currently working on a story about hops which is all I'll say for now. God bless 'em.

DRAFT Magazine: Two recent stories are up. The first is mostly about parallel brewing--when a brewery releases a series of beers that tweak one ingredient or technique and it becomes an education for both producer and consumer. Naturally, I focused on Mikkeller from Denmark because of how many cool series Mikkel does. Then the story was upgraded to being about the "World Series" of stouts, incorporating Dark Horse's intriguing, dark releases.

Closer to home, and perfect timing as it coincides with SF Beer Week, the last page is Draft's column called Beer Me wherein someone from the industry (usually) writes about his or her experiences or take on a current issue facing the industry. On occasion, that person tells someone else their story, which is how I got to write a first-person account of the man behind Cherry Voodoo Brewing who debuted--earlier than expected--at the gala and their own launch party.

Drink Me: Based in SF, each month they put out a themed issue so it's fun to write in some really left field areas. As someone who focuses on the artistic side of the brewing world rather than the scientific aspect (great beer takes both!), I was apprehensive when they announced they were doing a "Science" issue. It forced me to don a lab coat and even bust out some Latin. I still managed to interview one of my favorite brewers to discuss the science of spontaneity (aka wild beers). What was really a treat was the "Heal the World" issue which, naturally, conjures up images of Michael Jackson. Thankfully, we have one of our own. I say have instead of had b/c he's always with us.

Oxford Companion to Beer: Not sure if I'm more humbled or honored by this, and I'll ruin it by making a prurient joke about being hummered, but I just got a most inspiring email from the OCB's esteemed editor, Garrett Oliver, brewmaster at the Brooklyn Brewery, thanking all the contributors who helped compile the most comprehensive book on beer to date, thanks to Oxford University Press. Seeing my name on the 12-page list of contributors--many of whom are heroes and mentors--made me glow. If anyone knows how I attach a PDF, lemme know.

Willamette Week: So glad it didn't take much convincing on my part to get the local alt-weekly to kick up the beer coverage in Beervana. Tomorrow, look for me singing the Wheels on the Bus on the SE PDX shuttle for the 3rd annual Zwickelmania. It will help assuage my lugubriousness from missing SF Beer Week going on now. Speaking of which, I had 3 guest posts last week. One on Oregon brewers invading the Bay. One on the Beer Run (2nd Annual!) that I was present for at the beginning but not entirely present by the end if you know what I mean, thanks to Strong Beers enjoyed at Magnolia mid-run and at Social post-run. And of course a revisiting of our friends at Cherry Voodoo.

Gratefully, there's more to come.

The Session #48: Cask, keg, can, bottle?

On Beer Session Friday, I passed on blogging about February’s topic, Cask, Keg, Can, Bottle? hosted by Simon H. Johnson at the Reluctant Scooper, not because I don’t give a flying fuggle about beer dispense per se, but because I don’t take any sides. Nor did I pass because I’m a wannabe Luddite who eschews everything technological including blogging, obviously, but I’ll get back to that in a few. No, when I’m out I generally order draft beer such as the Heater Allen Smoky Bob (Rauchbier) I had earlier today at The Horse Brass Pub (R.I.P. Don Younger). But I don’t buy kegs of beer (or I haven’t yet) so if I’mdrinking commercial beer at home, naturally it’s bottled, such as the bombers of Full Sail Black Gold (Bourbon-aged Imperial Stout) I picked up earlier at Belmont Station. And if I’m going to play disc golf or something, I always bust out the coozies to fill with cans, such as Caldera Pale Ale or maybe Oskar Blues Gubna (Imperial IPA) if I need something potent or to dazzle any friends I play with—the kind who smoke them funny cigarettes—to show them they’re no match for the dankness of this Summit-hopped brew. The one “format” I’m generally not partial to, I admit heretically, is ale on cask.

For anyone still reading and isn’t off checking how to revoke my Beer Geek membership, let me just say I chalk this up to being too American and that I want my beer a touch colder, a tad more carbonated, and an iota less samey. Sorry, but unless I’m in a London pub where I can chat with my mates over pints of bitter and some crisps trying to snog birds (something Half Pint, the wife, would surely frown on), I prefer carbonated or nitrogenated kegged beer. But that all changed today!

Was it because of the amazing cask of Bear Republic Racer 5 they have at the Horse Brass that my friend from Vancouver (“the real one” he says of his home in B.C., not the one just across the state line in Washington that Portlandians refer to as “The ‘Couve”)? Nope!
It was because our dog Dunkel escaped today. Twice. He’s never done that before, but I guess moving twice in the last 2.5 months is freaking him out and when Daddy (that’s me) left, he took it upon himself to dig a hole under the fence and go find me. (Luckily he was detained on the next block each time by nice people.) Now, after his first Houdini impersonation or in-dog-ation, Half Pint and I vowed to get him a dog tag even though he’s microchipped. After his second disappearing act, I immediately ran to the Fred Meyer supermarket across the street (hence why Dunkel looked for me there, because I often tie him up by the entrance) to see if they make tags. They do…sorta. Store employees pointed me toward this, this, machine, this mechanism, that lets you choose the tag (of the six-ish choices, I went with the classic bone shape) and then the touch screen lets you enter what copy you want engraved. And then it just goes right to it, visible to the purchaser, all in robot-fast and robot-efficient swiftness. It almost looks like a crane-grab game, only you get dogtags instead of stuffed animals and the exact item you want drops through the hole every time.

I was mesmerized by this machine. With absolutely no human interaction, I had a perfectly precise tag in my hands in the time it would’ve taken me to Google where to get dogtags made. Then, partly for fun but mostly because we actually needed them, I had extra keys made. From the vending machine next to the engraving machine!! I’m not shitting you. Enter credit card. Enter key. Receive duplicate keys in the tray below. If you want a receipt, enter email address on touch screen and it gets shot to your inbox.

The clerks behind me said they loved it. It was way quieter than hand-cutting keys and doesn’t take their time. But do they love that these machines put one of their coworkers out of a job and that once more self-checkout lines are installed (you’ve seen them, where you swipe your own purchases over the scanner and bag ‘em yourself and nary a checker do you greet in any form of human exchange).

So there you have it. I’ve long hated technology but it doesn’t stop me from keeping up with the 21st century. I have a Droid smartphone (love Apple’s iPhone but hate AT&T’s network), but I kinda hate it and wish my contract was anywhere near expired so I could get an iPhone. I drive a hybrid car that still feels space-age to me but my visiting friend was aghast that I parallel parked without the assistance of a back-up cam, since who uses their own eyes and intuition anymore? I have a laptop but asked a clerk in the tech section of Fred Meyer earlier today what adaptor I need to be able to use the HDMI cable I got to connect said laptop to the TV, which is when the clerk said I should buy a new laptop since mine is so archaic (it’s about 2 years old) that it doesn’t have even a Mini HDMI outlet. So yes, I keep accumulating this crap, but it always crashes, or gives me bad directions or gives me various error signs. I absolutely crave the good old days when stuff was done by hand…people with hands.

And that’s what made me appreciate the hand pump at the Horse Brass even when I’d somewhat taken it for granted mere hours earlier. Among the 3 of us and our 3 pints, the 2 kegged ones appeared a minute later. (And lest you think that’s too long, you’re in luck, since I predict every sporting and concert venue and even some high-volume sports bars with soon be dispensing pints out of this mind-blowing Bottoms-Up contraption that can fill something like 44 pints per minute. WOW/WTF.) But the hand pump one took a good 4 minutes! Furthermore, the beertender was a helluva nice guy. We’d ask about certain beers on tap and he brought us samples. He even put before us a half-filled pint of Mad River Double Brown (possibly on cask) saying something about a bad pour so he figured we wouldn’t let the elixir go to waste (and it happened to be phenomenal). No machine could ever perform that function. Whereas he was considerate and chummy and imperfect yet cognizant of it, technology is always, always, always efficient and lightning fast and cold.

A hand pump and the hands that pump it have no use for 1s and 0s, for Ghz or Mbps. And they don’t dispense industrial lagers. They dispense honest to goodness real ale brewed by artistic, thoughtful, lovable brewmasters. People have been brewing, drinking, and loving beer for millennia and if this is the only way to enjoy it the way it was over a century ago, before the Industrial and Technological Revolutions, then hell yeah, count me in.

Six weeks in. Still smitten.

Portland is just so damn great. I've heard of people who move here from San Francisco and then have to move back. Naturally, I'll forever love SF. And we certainly miss our friends. But our plan is to proselytize them into moving up here. Seriously guys, quit your job, buy a food cart on the cheap, and make a go of it. That's the Portlander way. P-town may be called Bridgetown, Beervana, Cartopia, and Rose City, but it's also DIY-ville. Have something you love doing and wanna make it your job? I've seen that everywhere I go here (says the freelance beer writer). Beyond the chefs popping up at food pods, there are co-ops for art galleries, bike shops, music schools, etc. Oh, and more nanobreweries than you can shake a mash paddle at.

I wish I'd jotted down every feel-good encounter I've had in my first two weeks. It started less than 24 hours into being a Portlander when I volunteered at the 15th Annual Holiday Ale Fest. Let's just say the 2nd Annual Holiday Ale Fest I attended my last weekend in the Bay could pick up a trick or two. Nearly 50 breweries--mostly from Oregon and Washington--poured rare treats. Somehow I lucked out and manned the jockey box pouring Hair of the Dog "Jim" 2008 (next to Jim '09).

What's great and scary is that with all the exploring I've done, I feel like just my left pinky has scratched the surface. With thanks to Ezra "Samurai Artist" Johnson-Greenough who blogs at The New School and a rotating beer-obsessed posse as well as Lisa "Beer Goddess" Morrison, and some old-fashioned huffing it around the neighborhoods, I've imbibed at at least 10 beer bars that're worthy of being the best place to drink a beer. Meaning I only have at least 20 more to get to.

To play catch-up at this point would take forever. Because also in this time, we hiked around waterfalls in the rain, marveled that we're living in a place where the water in birdbaths freezes into large pucks of ice, spent a week in Hawaii escaping said ice, find ourselves in escrow on a house(!!!) and I've added 3 new publications to continue obsessing over beer in including the PDX alt-weekly Willamette Week.

So long Beer Area, hello Beervana

It is bittersweet that I no longer find myself a San Francisco resident, tempered by the fact that I'm now a Portlander. The Bay Area is the undisputed birth place of American craft brewing (thanks to Anchor, New Albion, Sierra Nevada, Buffalo Bill's, Triple Rock, and more) but Portland didn't become known as Brewtopia for nothing (thanks to pioneers like Bridgeport and Widmer Brothers and the dozens of brewing brethren such as Hair of the Dog, Cascade, Amnesia, H.U.B., Laurelwood, McMenamins, and on and on).

In truth, because good beer is to be found everywhere these days, what I'll miss most is the community of beer lovers. I didn't go to beerfests and special tappings for the beer so much as the people at them. It's not that I only gravitate to those who appreciate good beer, but, quite

the other way around--it's that fun, adventurous people tend to be the ones who appreciate the finer-yet-affordable things in life and beer inhabits exactly that crossroads. "Beer" can be almost anything these days but it's certainly much more than the one-brand-fits-all stuff that most people continue to perceive it as. Maybe that's why only 5% of Americans always call for craft beer, or at least that's what the numbers would suggest since craft beer only constitutes roughly 5% of the total beer market.

Fortuitously, these same beer-lovin' riff-raff populate Portland. I can't wait to meet 'em.

The story of how Half Pint and Dunkel and I arrived here is simple. We love SF but as my wife says, "she's expensive." Between being priced out of the housing market, a job recruitment from a big o'l company up here that she couldn't say no to, the fact that we love PDX and new adventures of all sorts, and sure, toss in all the amazing breweries that are now within walking, biking, and bussing distance, and, well, here we are. The odyssey continues.

I've been a little negligent of this here blog, primarily because I did most of my beer blogging for the SF Weekly's SFoodie blog as well as the SF Craft Beer Examiner. I hope to right this wrong and chime in more often, even if just posting tidbits whenever I seek out any of the 35 breweries in PDX or our plans for "Foodcart Fridays" wherein we intend to kick off each weekend with dinner at a different food cart, pod, truck, or airstream. I should beerify it by offering beer pairing suggestions.

In any event, this is the start of a new, exciting adventure, full of new breweries and beers to explore, new brewers to befriend, and of course to kick work on my next book project about homebrewers into high gear. So look for me and Dunkel at the Lucky Lab hard at work and if you're there at the same time, I'm easily distracted.

Toast to Michael Jackson

Alas, three years after the fact, the beer world still mourns the loss of our Michael Jackson. And while researching odds and ends about the renowned Beer Hunter for a story due this week* and having fun watching lots of videos I've either never seen or haven't watched in ages, I spotted one of the toast that Tom Dalldorf, publisher of Celebrator Beer News, gave at the Toronado when simultaneous toasts to MJ were giving across America.

Not being a heavy, heavy drinker, I knew I was there but it's not like I recall hamming it up for the camera which I didn't know was there. But if you watch the video, there I am, doing my part to join the beer lovin' community in raising a glass at our felled hero (1942-2007). OK, so, it'd help if you freeze the clip at the 43 second mark and again at the 3:21 mark. Look at the bar each time, squint, and there I am, glad to be at the Toronado but wishing I wasn't there for that reason.

*Quick question. Someone who's way techier than I, who deals with things like SEO (Search Engine Optimization) for work, suggsisted (half suggested, half insisted) that I post all of my beer stories that are published on this here blog. Happily, that entails a lot of posts as I'm getting a lot of work (even if it means delaying progress on the next book). Is that something anyone would be interested in? For the stuff that appears online, I generally Tweet it. But how about the print stuff? Seems almost, I dunno, tacky to me, but I DO spend a lot of time working on these stories and if you don't subscribe to the magazines and the like, you'll never get the chance to see them. One such story, as I heard from the editor, received much exuberant response and the letters to the editor section in the following issue confirmed it. I don't generally read those, but in this case, it warmed my heart cockles. Shall I repost them?

Cheers.

Bell's Brewery coming to California...

Well, okay, I can only hope. But my wishful drinking, to borrow a phrase from Carrie Fisher, didn't come out of thin air. Michigan Live reported that Bell's, makers of my and a million other people's favorite wheat beer Oberon, is embarking on a $52 million expansion. They're in 18 states now including almost the entire eastern US and of course the upper Midwest since they're from Kalamazoo, Mich. But they entered a western-ish state this past year--Arizona--which I know is just testing the waters for manifest destiny--California!


When I visited Larry Bell in 2006, he was preparing for a major expansion, one that would see brewing capacity climb to 120,000 barrels. Such production seemed way off. After all, he opened in 1985 using a 15-gallon pot. By 1991, he'd actually surpassed the 1,000-barrel mark. But just last year, Bell's produced an impressive 115,000 barrels. This new expansion will start by bringing in more fermentation tanks and keep 'em on track for planned 20% growth--annually.

So like I said, is it possible that by 2012 we'll be drinking HopSlam IPA or Expedition Stout here in the Golden State? If I were a betting man, I'd say Yes. Of course, that does nothing to get the bottle of Batch 5000 back that I brought into my friends' apartment to chill and share over four years ago after I drove from K'zoo to Chicago but they just stuck it in the back of the fridge. No beer-o-philes they, I fear it was casually gulped as an after-work beer for one of them. Having a fresh supply of Oberon would go a long way to assuage that hurt.

The week in heavy drinking. Day 4: Cherry Voodoo chiefs at Alembic Bar

Far from complain-ing, I have a lot of stories on my plate of late. And in this line of work, that means a lot of "meetings over pints." One that's right up my alley is for Draft Magazine's Beer Me column. Without giving it all away, there's a new brewery on the horizon here in SF called Cherry Voodoo Brewing. One of the founding fathers' name is Yuri and he has a big mouth as far as his claims about their guaranteed success, but at the same time, he's not the type to write a check his mouth can't cash. He's had phenomenal success in the tech world, the elite athletic world, and, fingers crossed, the beer world next.

Six months ago when I first met him to hear about his brewery plans, he and Bryan over at Clara Street Brewing brewed up a crazy idea for a beer I had. Chocolate Kumquat Porter. They called it Truffle Pig. I've heard wavering reports of its tastiness. Alas, I haven't tried it yet, but I BELIEVE Bryan has a bottle stashed away. Please, please, please. In any event, part of Cherry Voodoo's mission is to brew crazy-out-there beers. Having said that, the other part of their mission is to convert the masses. Impossible dichotomy? Probably, but is that crazier than a 410 lb. man becoming a winning triathlete within a year? Because that's part of Yuri's story. And it's the one I heard all about over some Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye, some Moonlight Death & Taxes, and some Orval at Alembic Monday night. At some point, life story time ended and we just shot the shit. We also killed an entire pizza at Escape from New York next door. Like I said, I'm far from complaining.

The following night: Blind Oktoberfest tasting panel for my monthly SF Weekly feature.

The week in heavy drinking. Day 3: Bear Republic Pre-GABF party

Praise Beer by Bart'ers Gail & Steve...for driving me up on Sunday to Healds-burg in Sonoma County (why is there no train yet?), home of Bear Republic Brewing. Their best known beer--their flagship--is Racer 5 IPA. It took home a gold medal not for American IPAs but for Strong Pale Ale at last year's Great American Beer Festival. So how many medals are they shooting for this year? 23!

Sunday, founding father-son team Richard and Richard ("Rich" or "Ricardo") Norgrove, along with their crack team of brewers welcomed a crowd of about 100 to the patio area behind the brewpub to taste any and all of the 23 beers they will be submitting to GABF in Denver in a couple weeks. (I'm looking forward to my 4th fest, now in its 29th year.) I got to 13 of them.

I started out with the light'n'low ABV to high strategy, but after a few lagers, I realized I'd never get to the fun, bold flavorific end of the spectrum. First up was the Volksbier, which Bear Republic is entering into category 29-D, American-Style Premium Lager. In other words, it's trying to take the crown from Coors Banquet (Miller High Life got the silver). With 4.1% alcohol by volume (ABV) but 30 international bitterness units (IBU), this leapt into the realm of one of my favorite lagers of all time. I can't say the same for the next two I had, El Oso amber lager (I rarely cotton to ambers) (#33-D) and Late Harvest Oktoberfest-style lager (#28-B), but kudos for being one of the few American breweries to even do an Oktoberfest, especially this far west of Milwuakee.

I sampled every rye ale since it's a flavor I like but still ascertaining which ones I truly dig and which ones are just on the bandwagon. I can tell you that between the Roggenbier (#8-B, German-style Rye Beer), Hop Rod Rye from their annual line-up (#58, American-style India Black Ale), and Ryevalry (#15-A, American-Belgo-style Ale), I heartily concur that Hop Rod belongs in the year-rounders. The Roggen is fermented with Hefeweizen yeast so the spicy rye and banana-y Bavarian yeast don't gibe on my tongue. The Ryevalry is fun and tasty, but the Belgian yeast made it too fruity for my liking. Whether or not Hop Rod belongs in the IBA category without roasted or carafa malt making it truly black is for someone else to debate.

And among the sours, I tried all three. Entering in category 20-A, Wood and Barrel Aged Sour Beer, I think I preferred the lighter Toyon Brut (aged in French Oak and wine barrels) to the muskier Cuvee de Bubba (a special blend aged in wine barrels) but suspect that the latter will appeal to fans and judges more as it was more like a Flemish Red. The Prickly Pear Barrel Aged Grizz (aged 10 months in neutral oak on roasted prickly pears) was darker than I expected and I felt the wild yeast flavors were too subdued by the caramel maltiness.

Among the beers you shouldn't get your hopes up to try at the brewpub so I'm glad I got 'em while I could, Bob Peak's Pro-Am Marie Laveaux III black pepper Pilsner tasted like a great pils but should've been pepperier if you ask me. And finally, there was Clobberskull. Here's their description: This English Estate October Ale is brewed with 10% raw wheat and 10% split peas. Fermented with our house Scottish ale yeast and barrel aged for 100 days in French Oak barrels. Not sound like that falls under any category you've ever heard of? That's because it's #4-A. A new one. "Field Beer." Don't look for it to be as crowded as American IPAs or Sour beers; in fact, if Bear Republic is medal fishing, there's no guarantee their flagship Racer 5 IPA will repeat with gold in #46 American Strong Pale Ale but my money is on Clobberskull to win, place, or show... especially if there's only three entries.

Oh, and on the way home, we stopped for dinner at Flavor, a new gastropub I’d yet to hit in Santa Rosa. The gnocchi was awesome and you can never, ever go wrong with Moonlight Death & Taxes.

Monday night's bar-venture: Alembic Bar with two of the principals of the upcoming Cherry Voodoo Brewing.

The week in heavy drinking. Day 2: X-mas in August

Some time after the holidays, my friend Chris noticed he had a bunch of holiday beers leftover. I think I suggested he have a "Christmas in July" party. Maybe it was his idea and I just named it. Maybe I'm giving myself credit where none belongs. In any event, July turned to August and he finally got down to it. And he brought it.

The Evite called for winter warmers and holiday beers of every ilk. It also called for guests to don their most hideous Christmas sweaters or outfits, to bring cheapo gifts for a white elephant exchange, and there was the promise of Santa Claus making a surprise off-season visit. He didn't. But the Christmas playlist which included the Wham chestnut "Last Christmas" to lesser known nuggets from Jimmy Buffet more than made up for it.

Dave and Tiila brought Three Floyds Christmas Porter and Captain Lawrence Nor'Easter. Both excellent. Jesse and Eliana, fresh from their honeymoon in Italy and Belgium, brought a vertical of Shmaltz's Chanukah beer, Jewbelation. Jason showed up late but was forgiven when he pulled out a bourbon-aged Santa's Little Helper from Port Brewing and a quixotic Alameda Brewing winter warmer from '09. What'd I contribute? My mixed pack of 12-ouncers included a Shiner Cheer, y'all. Hey, it's not like Chris busted out his Bruery Partridge in a Pear Tree or vertical Samichlaus or anything.

I wish I had a photo of Half Pint and I wearing our furry hats with ear flaps we scored in the white elephant exchange! I'm sure that will surface soon.

If I keep drinking like this, Rudolph won't be the only red-nosed reindeer around here.

Tomorrow: Bear Republic Pre-GABF Cellar Party.

The week in heavy drinking. Day 1: Eat Real

I'm a lightweight. I mean, my weight isn't light (due to my beer consumption), but I can't consume all that much beer. So I went on a one-week wagon in preparation for the coming week, which began yesterday in Oakland at Eat Real.

I was interested in all the ice cream carts and fusion taco trucks, but if we're being honest, I was there for the beer shed (over 20 local breweries) and to participate as one of the 10 judges of the first annual homebrew competition. We were given the option of which of the 5 categories we wanted to judge, and while I would've been happy with any of them (session, hoppy, farmhouse, strong, and taco), I opted for the later to see what area homebrews thought constituted a taco-worthy beer. For the record, no, they didn't have to be made with carnitas or cumin or queso fresco, they just had to pair well with tacos. There were only four entries (the winner was an herbal number, possibly jasmine or lavender and ground ginger, maybe grains of paradise; the runner up was a jalapeno stout but it lost points for having a strong root beer flavor, perhaps from fermented in a carboy or keg that previously held root beer). Of course, the sampling continued through the Best of Show round, which went to a Bretty farmhouse ale. Whoever the winners were--congrats, and thanks for entering. Ditto for those who entered the jam competition. I loved sampling 'em all and while I believe the blackberry-chocolate was going to win, my hands-down vote was for the Lemon-IPA marmalade!

From there, it was over to the beer shed. I was surprisingly disappointed with Sierra Nevada's Tumbler (autumn brown ale) because their new releases have really been killing it. But fortunately, I got to try Ale Industries' Rye'd Piper and Black Diamond's Saison (from the description, it tasted like Red Headed Stepchild).

As I was leaving Jack London Square, I cashed in my remaining drink ticket at the juice stand and the perceptive rep from Odwalla steered me toward a tropical number with coconut juice ("It has extra potassium"), hence, while I had an easy-breezy BART ride home, I did not wake up hungover.

Tonight: a Christmas in August Beer BBQ.

Honoring Hosers in Houston

I have been honored with a request to speak at the 27th Annual Dixie Cup Homebrew Competition in Houston, which takes place this year on Oct 14-17. It will be my second year attending, but last year I hit it as part of my "research" trip, my second national beer odyssey. This year they're looking for a preview of the next book I'm working on, which in case you haven't heard or read, is about homebrewers. Basically, if Red, White, & Brew was about the people in the professional brewing industry, this one (Title T/K) is about the people in the homebrewing community.

But what I'm really excited about is the theme for this year's Dixie Cup. Every year they have a theme for a decidedly non-BJCP beer style. Past cups have seen "styles" such as Breakfast Cereal Beer, Malt Liquor, and... The Beer That Burns Twice. This year, in honor of my favorite hoseheads from the Great White North, the theme is Strange Brew. If I can get motivated, I even know exactly what I'd brew in accordance with the rules (seriously, click that last link). Hint: while I thought about it, I will not brew up a Franks'n'Beans Ale.

Three months away. I better get brewing so fermentation can...take off.

The Session #41: Craft beers inspired by homebrewing

This month, the Wallace bros. from Lug Wrench Brewing Co. ask Sessioners to blogtificate about "how has homebrewing had an affect on the commercial beer we have all come to love?" Talk about open-ended.

It's no stretch at all to say that every single craft beer out there is an extension of a homebrew. Unlike the days of yore in the countries of olde, where brewing fathers begat brewing sons and the trade passed down generationally, 99% or more of today's master brewers began making their own beer in their kitchens or garages and are largely self-taught. Sure many talented ones went to brewing academies like Siebold's or UC Davis, but those are really like finishing schools after they were home schooled by the likes of Papazian, Eckhardt, and more recently, Mosher, Daniels, Palmer, and the gang.

Some would claim that homebrew-inspired breweries out there only constitute the new kids on the block, the ones making newfangled beers like Short's Key Lime Pie, Cigar City's Mochaccino Bolita, or the Bruery's Autumn Maple featuring yams. One trend among these particular beers is that, well, they're all pretty desserty. And if your mama taught you anything, you can't eat dessert till you've had your dinner. "Growing food" as my sister beseeches my nieces to eat. Somehow, in these people's eyes, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale,

Widmer Hefeweizen*, and New Belgium Fat Tire are so far removed from small batch craft beers that they border on behemoth corporate concoctions. It's called "fundamentals," son. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, these beers were first brewed on systems smaller than most mid-sized craft breweries' pilot systems. (*Granted, the young Widmer bros. intended for their Alt to be their flagship, not their wheat beer, but the market demanded it.)

By contrast, even the Big Two, a.k.a. BMC, are proffering not "craft beers" but "beers that are crafted" and include everything from the hotcake-selling Blue Moon witbier to misguided attempts such as Michelob Hop Hound Amber Wheat. The point being, virtually every American-made beer not being advertised at a major sporting event is, in some way, inspired by homebrewers be they Ken Grossman (Sierra Nevada), Jeff Lebesch (formerly of New Belgium), Mark Carpenter (Fritz's right hand man at Anchor whose future there is now

TBD), or mid-revolutionaries such as Sam Calagione (Dogfish Head), Dan Carey (New Glarus), and Alan Sprints (Hair of the Dog) to the new bumper crop mindblowing talents including Patrick Rue (The Bruery along with head brewer Tyler King), Scott Vaccaro (Captain Lawrence), and possibly anyone reading this who has high hopes of opening his or her own brewery.

And with few exceptions (sorry, I've never met an Amber or a Helles I liked), as a beer lover, I love 'em all and am indebted to all brewers: both home and pro alike.

Photos by me: (top) Ken Grossman with two of his kids--Brian and Sierra--at Sierra Nevada. (bottom) Homebrewer Ben Miller who won the Sam Adams Longshot competition AND Great American Beer Fest's Pro-Am competition on the same day.

The Session #40: Session Beer

Erik over at Top Fermented hosts this month's version of the Session and chose a topic that's homophonically appropriate. Session beers. Erik asks:

What is your definition of a session beer? Is it, as Dr. Lewis suggested at the Craft Brewers Conference this year, “a pint of British wallop” or is your idea of a session beer a crisp Eastern European lager, a light smoky porter, a dry witbier, or even a dry Flemish sour?

Is it merely enough for a beer to be low alcohol to be considered a session beer, or is there some other ineffable quality that a beer must hold in order to merit the term? And if so, what is that quality? Is it “drinkability”? Or something else?

This will be short'n'easy (if any of you make a crude comment about my brand new wife, Half Pint, yer all in big trouble. Yes, I've been remiss about blogging since I stopped doing it long enough to get hitched to the greatest chick beer drinker in the land) since I'm a devotee of session beers, which to me is just anything I can drink several pints of without having my

keister meet the floor. For me, and I'm not saying this because I think Fritz reads my blog, it's Anchor Steam. 4.9% ABV and the one that started it all. It's got malt, it's got hops, it's got bubbles, and like barbeque sauce (otherwise, whip cream), it goes with everything. Since I live in an apartment in San Francisco, I wouldn't know from a lawn, but if I did, the first thing I'd purchase after a ridable John Deere would be a case of Anchor Steam. Yes, I love trying 14% RIS's and whatnot, but it boils down to this: I'm a lightweight! If I don't have enough food and water in me, I'm schnockered. I've never once left Bell's Eccentric Cafe in Kalamazoo sturdily on my own feet. But I do walk out of my local Magnolia Pub because as is their wont in being a British style gastropub (albeit with mounds of California accentuation), they brew loads of session beers. It's even on record that I rehydrate with their 3.6% Dark Star Mild after the SFBW Beer Run. Does a low alcohol session beer have to be

mild? No way, Jose. Whenever I find it, I'm sure to treat myself to the Bruery's Hottenroth Berlinerweisse, which, at 3.1%, I can't fathom how they cram so much tartness and deliciousness into such a light beer. A personal shout out to the boys down there for making a beer I can drink copiously without embarrassing myself. All hail the session beer.

Dropped Anchor. End of an era

Though I covered this in the SF Weekly's SFoodie blog and the SF Beer Examiner blog, the sale of Anchor this week keeps me pondering. Don't ask me to rattle off everything great about craft beer and the industry, but one thing I've discussed frequently is that all the forefathers, the pioneers, the movers, shakers, and brewers who got the keg rolling are, for the most part, still around. What other industry could that be said for? Luminaries such as Boston Beer's Jim Koch and Sierra Nevada's Ken Grossman are still captaining their ships, still vibrant and show no signs of slowing down; in fact, both of them keep ramping up great projects. This is what I set out to discover when I started working on Red, White, & Brew. While there was Dick Yuengling and Jake Leinenkugel whose great-great-grandfathers built the breweries they now preside over, I met with D.L. Geary who founded the first microbrewery in New England, Larry Bell who started Michigan's first, Carol Stoudt, the first female craft brewery owner, and more. While all of them have kids now who are working for them and learning the ropes in the hope that one day they take the reins from dear old Dad or Mom, the undisputed father of American craft beer is Fritz Maytag who bought the sinking Anchor Brewery in 1965. This week, after 45 years, he sold it. Just up and sold it.

While not the same level of severity as Kennedy's assassination or a man walking on the moon, I'll never forget when I heard the news. I was at the New Orleans airport returning from Jazz Fest Monday night when Half Pint texted me the news, informing me that our friend Jesse from Beer and Nosh was the first to post it. The shock hasn't really worn off.

Maytag is 72. Last month, Ken Allen, 70, sold Anderson Valley Brewing Co. As the pioneers

reach retirement age, this will happen more and more. It's inevitable. Change is constant. Even among the breweries I selected for RW&B, where longevity was a top criterion, half of the 14 have undergone major changes. And the fact that I picked 14 to represent just 1% of the then-1,400 breweries means it is likely that half of all breweries have experienced such transitions. To wit:

1. Leinenkugel's was already owned by Miller. But the SAB-Miller/MolsonCoors merger of their US operations means that Leinie's is now owned by MillerCoors.
2. New Belgium is employee-owned, but founders Kim Jordan and Jeff Lebesch were majority shareholders. They seemed an odd pairing--her nurturing and talkative, him taciturn and retiring. I just found out they are recently divorced and Lebesch has been completely bought out.
3. Grand Teton was quietly sold by founder Charlie Otto after some 20 years.
4. Widmer Bros. merged with Redhook, both already partly-owned by Anheuser-Busch, to form Craft Brewers Alliance with Kona and Goose Island falling under their umbrella.
5. Anchor, the very first craft brewery, sold, along with its distilling business which was also a revolution in craft adult beverages.
6. Electric Brewing in remote Bisbee, Ariz, everybody's favorite chapter, was sold to a couple of guys who recently opened Dave's Electric Brewpub in Tempe (founded by Electric Dave in 1988, one of the new owners name is also Dave). Far worse, Electric Dave was recently in a life-threatening car accident but is recovering in Bisbee.
7. Dixie Brewing in New Orleans continues to be contract brewed in Wisc. and its return to the Big Easy grows ever unlikely.

Names and faces are changing. Fortunately, beer continues to get better and better. Go enjoy an Anchor Steam and count your blessings.

Cheers

Keep yer milk man, gimme a beer man

I get all forms of news-letters, press releases, tweets, pings, pongs, pangs of jealousy, and information about beer happenings both locally and across this great craft beer soaked nation of ours, but this one made me nostalgic for a time I never knew.

From the email of The Bohemian, a killer B&B I stayed at in New Ulm, Minn. on my initial Beer Odyssey so as to visit the August Schell Brewery (the 2nd oldest in America and 26th largest overall and currently run by Ted Marti and his sons--the 5th and 6th generation descendants of the founder), here's the latest in giving the people what they want. On a sad note, this offer is only good for residents of New Ulm, Minn.

This weekend marks the delightful reintroduction of home delivery. It's a limited event, but a superb attempt at honoring nostalgia, history and, by golly, the local folk that fuel the enthusiasm of...our local brewery. The Milk Man, many remember, but around here, beer was also dropped off in earnest at the door. When news of this event surfaced, thoughts raced through my head of how many guests I could fit 'within the city limits' at my address! Everyonewanted to move to New Ulm, and with me, at least they could for the weekend. Only two cases were allowed at any door step, but I was still on my game, even though devastation was looming as the orders were filling fast and only so many available. I called Ted and Jodi Marti, pathetically maybe, but I really thought this idea was the next best thing to sliced bread! Upon no answer up front, and reading the fine print: This offer was for RESIDENTS of New Ulm. I did what any savvy girl would do, ran to the liquor store, got my order in and will just have to crack the cases when they arrive for the weekend! In other words 'share': my love of New Ulm, a brewery that rocks, incredible marketing and a good time. So, for one, call 507.354.BBNU. Oh, we are going to have to raffle, or maybe wrestle, for the signed cases from Mr. Ted Marti, which I suppose will be, uh, empty after we are through on the porch.