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I had planned to post an overview of a few special Alts I’ve enjoyed earlier, but time hasn’t permitted that. Suffice to say I’ve been keeping busy with a host of other non-beer related things called “life.” Well, that and transferring the Belgian Dubbel me and Steve cooked up to secondary fermentation.

Anyway, I had this little review session in mind before I got to try the Uerige Doppelsticke on cask at Capital Ale House, so here goes…

Long Trail Double Bag

A moderately vigorous pour produces roughly a centimeter of brilliant white head that doesn’t stick around for too long before its merely a few colonies of bubbles on top of a completely transparent, copper-amber hued beer. But this one is more than just eye candy. The aroma is complex yet subdued; hints of sugary fruit, butterscotch, caramel converge with a nutty malt backbone. Despite the myriad of estery notes, the beer still retains a clean profile as well.

The well-rounded malt character makes the Double Bag a palate-pleaser up front. Toffee and toasted malt notes are featured at the outset, with a slightly warming alcohol feel toward the middle. At this point, the hops enter the picture, providing ample but restrained bitterness alongside the alcohol, which truly isn’t that noticeable and blends into the background. The finish is immaculately clean, as lagers tend to do, but also leaves a bit of sweetness and hop bitterness lingering for a rather pleasing aftertaste.

Apparently, Long Trail modeled this after the Sticke, or “secret”, Altbiers of Germany, which were intended as special releases for those in the know, making for a well-balanced yet complex secret I’m glad to be in on.

Zum Uerige Sticke Alt

Burgundy and russet hues fill the glass, growing more amber at the bottom when held to light. Just over a finger of tightly-bubbled head forms at the top, leaving a thick web of lace around the sides as it gently recedes. The much-fabled Zum Uerige Sticke Alt is in my glass, and I couldn’t be more excited to try it.

Giving it time to warm up a few degrees, I begin to think of the prestige and weight this beer carries, especially in its home city of Dusseldorf. Breathing in the aromatics, I instantly notice several characteristics that indicate a complicated beer. An earthy hop aroma seems to intertwine with a layer of Pilsner malt, that grainy and bready scent mingling further with toffee, dark fruit, and a hint of licorice perhaps. There was something there that indicated an acidity, which was more like tart berries, in a sense.

Caramel and that grainy Pilsner malt combine for a schizophrenic introduction, but one that provides immediate balance. This leads to a juicy center where the earthy hop and toasted, toffee-like flavors are left to ease delicately off the palate. There is a drying quality to the finish, as hints of molasses and spice make a brief appearance during the exit. As the beer warms, the malt profile makes itself more apparent, becoming almost chewy and more viscous.

I’m quite surprised at how this beer changes, even over the course of less than five minutes. The drying, Pilsner feel begins to take a backseat to the sweet, malty tones that lie beneath. I can understand why this is a classic, and why some wish to keep it a secret.

Zum Uerige Doppelsticke Alt

Ah, time for the Doppel. This dark beauty pours a flat, hazy mahogany hue, with russet and copper highlights toward the bottom of the glass. One centimeter of white head forms on top and leaves as soon as it came. In the nose, there’s the aroma of figs or dark fruit combined with caramel malt, a hint of earthiness, and, maybe it’s just me, but I still pick up that boozy, Old Ale-esque fragrance.

The tongue reflects the aromatics with one exception; again, just like its sibling, this beer has a hoppier-than-expected side. But that’s not a bad thing by any means. In fact, that unsuspecting bitterness lends character to this beer, and illustrates the beer’s complexity when stacked up against raisiny, fig-like flavors. On cask, the same characteristics come through, only with a more “alive” feeling but at the same time a muted one, like that of a Real Ale.

To me, this sort of takes some of the best elements of other beer styles and conjures up a wholly different taste, and it shows. For some reason, it feels like Alt’s northern German roots, especially when it comes to Sticke, has an element of style influence from other countries, such as Belgium and the United Kingdom. And for some reason, I don’t seem to want to stop drinking it.

Ancient Egyptian symbols? Corny, unconvincing magic trick? No! Pyramid and Magic Hat Breweries plan to merge.

The 7th and 13th largest “craft” breweries in the country, respectively, are strongly considering taking the plunge together. Originally, Vermont’s Magic Hat approached Seattle’s Pyramid with an offer, which now includes the former taking on the latter’s incurred debt as well as $2.75 per share. When all is said and done, it looks to be about a $25 to $30 million operation for Magic Hat.

This maneuver has sparked some interest and debate over at BeerAdvocate. I don’t have any desire to get into the fray, but feel free to peruse some responses if you will.

This weekend I made the trek down to Virginia Beach to visit family and friends, but also to celebrate, since my dad’s birthday is on Tuesday. As usual, there were plenty of things to keep me occupied, but I managed to slip beer in between the important stuff… especially the night before I left.

First came Friday afternoon. End of the work week, and I’m ready to sip something special. As it just so happens, Capital Ale House opened a new location on the Southside of town, in the little village of Midlothian to be exact. The soft opening was Thursday night, and while I was desperate to go check out the newly-built Beer Mecca, I couldn’t make the drive. So I settled for Friday right after work, which was a good way to spend the evening before I left town the next day.

Fearing they had no Ola Dubh 30-year left, which was featured on tap, I made it out there as quickly as possible. My fears were allayed when I was able to start off with a snifter of it, and soak up all the deliciously boozy Scotch notes. Actually, woody Bourbon notes came to mind as well, which makes sense seeing as how single-use Bourbon barrels are normally used for aging Scotch whisky. Once they’re used for aging Scotch, they’re used again and again, and can have a rather extensive lifespan in this capacity, even undergoing repairs over the years.

There was a minimal, almost non-existent, level of carbonation, but a viscous, roasted malt Old Ale quality that made it an absolute treat. The beer itself was as black as night, which makes sense, seeing as how “Ola Dubh” means “Black Oil” in Gaelic. What a privilege it was to be able to try this stuff. I’ve got a few bottles of the 12- and 16-year sitting in my cache, which I’ll have to give a whirl in the future.

Turns out, Friday night was perhaps a more lucrative night to attend. At 6pm, they tapped a firkin of cask-conditioned Uerige Doppelsticke! After a messy attempt to open it up, the staff began pouring, and yours truly was able to get his hands on a glass. The beer poured a nice, hazy dark amber/copper color, and there were noticeable hoppy and boozy notes in the nose. My tasting notes wouldn’t do it proper justice, but suffice to say, the flavor was a bit muted, yet at the same time more naturally appealing. Another beer that I consider an honor just to be able to taste and enjoy.

More on the Alt goodness to come, but for now, I’m gonna kick back with a fresh beer and call it a day.

Spotted this link to a Washington Post article on Knut Albert’s blog regarding barrel-aged beers. One of our area newspapers has highlighted a growing trend in craft brewing, and this is a good omen for beervangelists here in the States. Recently I mentioned Blue Mountain Brewery in Afton, Virginia and their own barrel-aged concoction.

The article also features a couple of regional craft brewers: Ashburn, Virginia’s Old Dominion (now a brand of Coastal Brewing Company) and their deliciously chocolatey Oak Barrel Stout, and Milton, Delaware’s Dogfish Head and their Palo Santo Marron, which I’ve been dying to try. Good to see some regional coverage on this sort of thing!

So while I’ve recently celebrated cooking up my first batch of homebrew, I picked up some troubling news via Stonch. Apparently, following the article on Free the Hops and homebrewing that appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Alabama Alcoholic Beverage Control has come down on Scott Oberman.

His brazen attitude and full disclosure could cost him in the courtroom. It may not get to that point, but it’s still absolutely ludicrous nonetheless. The guy can’t go out and buy a beer over 6% abv, eliminating several excellent options from his reach, so he decides to brew his own and spread the beery goodness. Yet that makes him a criminal.

According to the article at Fermentarium, Anheuser-Busch and Southern Baptists have rallied together on this issue to block the efforts of Free the Hops, while stalled legislation to raise the state’s abv cap to 13.9% gathers dust. So they may slap Oberman with a $2,000 fine and a year in jail, but will most definitely put his homebrewing on hold. All this just for brewing up a batch of beer.

Yesterday I took the plunge. On that day, I jumped head-first into homebrewing.

I’ve sampled some offerings from area homebrewers before and have truly been impressed. Come to think of it, right around Christmas of 2006, I discovered that my upstairs neighbor had brewed a holiday ale with her uncle in New York state, and had brought some back to share. I was blown away at what one afternoon and some cheap supplies could do. So while everybody else was downing Miller Lite, I was nursing some savory homemade beer, enjoying the evening.

Well Sunday was my first go-round with the actual hands-on part of the process, but it helped to have my hands on some beer at the same time, too.

Steve and I met up around mid-day at his house, where he had all the equipment lined up and ready to go. We set out to brew a Belgian-style Dubbel, so naturally we cracked a Collaboration Not Litigation from 2006 to get things off on the right foot and got straight to work. First came the sanitizing, a crucial first step. He’s brewed before, and told me the horrors of not properly cleaning just one item. This is a story I’ve heard from other homebrewers who’ve also made sure to avoid that mistake with an ounce of prevention.

After we made sure everything was clean and good to go, we got the wort kits ready by softening them up in some hot water on the stove. Then, we poured them into some water and stirred thoroughly for the boil. Following that, we cooled that sucker down in the sink with some ice water.

In the meantime, we sampled some cave-aged Gruyere and French country bread with a Pierre Celis Grotten Bruin. Once the beer had properly cooled, we transferred that sweet nectar into the primary fermenter. As an aside, the place smelled absolutely delicious! I could’ve drank the wort without fermentation and had a blast, but we had to give that fancy yeast an opportunity to do its thing.

So with the proper addition of water, we pitched the yeast, White Labs Abbey Ale yeast to be exact. Then, after sealing the ol’ Ale Pail, there was only one thing to do: Stanley Cup playoffs and some 2006 Pannepøt! The Red Wings and the Predators were playing in Nashville, which made for an incredible game, despite the extended interruption from tornado coverage by the local NBC news affiliate. The Pannepøt was a great way to cap off a fun day of homebrewing.

So now, to commemorate the homebrewing occasion (which will probably become more than just an occasion in the very near future), I’m cracking a local Virginia beer. This time, it’s this year’s foreboding Dark Hollow by Blue Mountain Brewery.

Dark Hollow is just that, a completely opaque black that produces only a thin layer of small bubbles around the edges where the ominous liquid touches the sides of the glass. This Imperial Stout has had the privilege of resting in oak bourbon barrels, this year’s is Jim Beam to be exact, for 100 days. It certainly shows.

Coming as no surprise, the bouquet is quite woody and boozy, with a light touch of chocolate, which I expected to be stronger. The sharpness of the liquor is noticeable, and it’s got me thinking about what the Wild Turkey barrel-aged version will taste like next year.

Sipping the beer, I notice more of a roasted coffee malt profile rather than chocolate, which is great because it tempers the alcoholic kick of the bourbon that lies on top. That slightly parching oak flavor enters toward the middle, and dries out in the finish, leaving an aftertaste that’s closer to Beam than it is beer. This doesn’t bother me, because it clearly and smoothly transitions, so it’s not all bourbon and oak like some barrel-aged offerings.

There was nothing like sampling this at the brewery, with the tanks right in the window behind the bar, and the scenic vistas of Afton all around, but this seems to fit my local outlook today. I’ve been reading more and more about people sticking to their local selections lately, and I thought I might add a little something to the local mix myself. Good to see area brewers going out on a limb with interesting methods like barrel-aging or exotic beer styles.

For a while there were rumblings in the beer world, mostly locally, about the arrival of a British IPA that was unlike many of its kind. After hearing many mixed reviews, I figured that I’d have to try this thing myself and see what all the fuss, or lack thereof, was all about.

A thin layer of soapy bubbles form on top of this hazy, orange and copper-colored beer. Floral hop notes take over the nose, which intertwine with the aroma of sweet, bready malt that displays a soft hint of caramel. The smell alone is absolutely delicious, and if the taste is anything close, I’d say we’ve got a winner.

The well-appointed label mentions that the beer employs “five of the US Pacific Northwest’s most citrus-flavored, aromatic whole cone hops” in addition to English floor malts, implying that this is a hybrid-style India Pale Ale. Although, I’ll say that I’m not getting much of the citrusy flavors here, and I love that. Instead, there is a fruity, floral hop presence that doesn’t slay the palate with bitterness, and it lets the introduction and middle take on a juicy character.

The balance of this one cannot be understated. At just the right moment, the hops enter the picture toward the finish to balance out the sweetness of the malt up front, and never overpower. While I can taste a muted citrus note, it’s way in the background, and to me that’s superb. It’s almost like a wet-hop harvest beer: keep the aromatics and the floral character, but use minimal bitterness for balance. Also, the carbonation doesn’t get in the way, adding an appropriate amount of bubbles but letting the smooth texture take precedence.

As the beer finishes, it washes out cleanly, leaving a calm, delicious aftertaste that fades evenly. To me, this is the benchmark for the word “drinkable.” I doubt hopheads would be a huge fan of this beer, but if you’re anything like me, you’ll love the aforementioned qualities it possesses and will want to grab a second one.

Sitting at my desk at work today, I got a call from someone who needed assistance. Without going into too much detail, my job is to help people with matters of employment. Turns out, he’s on the other side of the country, and he worked for a wine and beer importer. Needless to say, after resolving the issue at hand, we got to talking about all sorts of beer happenings, glassware, and breweries of note.

Talking to strangers on the phone is part of what I do, but rarely does it cross over into my secret obsession with beer. Always a plus when you can combine the two, and it adds some spice to the everyday routine. Also, it’s good to know there are people out there working tirelessly into the night so that we may pop open a Liefmans Kriek or a Meantime London Porter and relax at the end of a long day.

Now if only every workday could be this interesting…

Over at Boak and Bailey’s blog, they’ve recently posted an account of a hapless patron and a condescending bartender. This entry of mine has nothing to do with the excellent point they bring up about customer service, and everything to do with the particular selection of beer in the parable.

They mention Weihenstephaner. And it just so happens, I had two offerings from them I’ve never tried just last night, and an American Bock beer the night before. Springtime has definitely got my goat, and I’ve gone Bock-crazy. Let’s recap, shall we?

Left Hand Rye Bock Lager 2007

I’ve inadvertently been holding onto this bottle for a while, having stashed it away and nearly forgotten about it. After picking up a few American and German bocks lately, I came across this little gem from Left Hand sitting there, looking forlorn. What other option did I have but to drink it?

It took some doing, including busting out the ol’ corkscrew, but I finally uncorked this thing. Bubbles abounded as it first hit the glass, foaming up with a pleasant and pillowy off-white head of about four fingers worth. A few minutes passed and the head settled, leaving some sticky lace along the sides. When held to the light, the beer takes on a deep muted, transparent ruby hue. Notes of caramel, fig, and the graininess of the rye come through in the nose, complex and reminiscent of an Old Ale.

The palate is no less intriguing, with a light-bodied rush of hops and grain surging toward the middle, dwarfing the small caramel touch up front. No matter though, as it reappears subtly in the finish, which is clean and dry as the grainy notes fade, leaving only a faint residue of the flavor profile at the back.

This is not your ordinary bock, nor is it intended to be, which I like. While I feel Left Hand has done some better beers in its “Big Mo” series, such as the Double Sawtooth Chainsaw Ale, this one is not without merit, especially if you’re looking for something a bit off the beaten path in the Bock category.

Weihenstephaner Vitus Weizenbock

Yet another loosely interpreted style, the Weizenbock has now officially thrown me for a loop. For the longest time, it was the sweet, sweet nectar of Aventinus that stood in my mind as one of the few great weizenbocks I’ve tried. Granted, I can’t recall too many others, but the idea of a Weizenbock being based on a Dunkel Weisse (”dark wheat”) beer always stuck with me, thus being a bock strength version of a Dunkel.

So imagine the confusion and shame I felt when the Weihenstephaner Vitus I had poured a hazy, glowing golden-orange color. Sure, it’s aesthetically pleasing, but it looked more like a Hefe rather than a strong Dunkel, which is the whole point. From what I recall, I wasn’t as impressed with this brand’s Hefeweizen anyway, despite all the praise that it’s been given. As for the nose: bubble gum, clove, and banana, those fruity esters wafting toward the nostrils. Am I mistaken, or have they labelled these bottles incorrectly?

Turns out, the flavor is very similar to the acclaimed Hefeweizen, only with, you guessed it, more of an alcoholic kick. Wheat and pale malt provide a smooth introduction that opens up to a full, juicy center featuring those soft citrus and banana fruit notes. A brief spiciness slides to the back as the beer finishes, making for an incredibly mellow aftertaste. Carbonation is perfect, with just enough bubbles to excite the palate, but a light body that makes it very quaffable.

I’m glad I had this beer around to show me the error of my ways. While I don’t like to get too wrapped up in style definitions, I do like to be aware of what I’m drinking, especially when it’s printed on the label. I’m not sure how the idea of a stronger Dunkel Weisse got ingrained into my head, but there’s no better way to discover than sitting down with a glass of the stuff and going to town.

Weihenstephaner Korbinian Doppelbock

That’s right, another Bock; because once you Bock, the fun don’t stop. I’ll quit before I get any cornier/threatened with copyright infringement. But since it’s still springtime, and I’ve even got a Spaten goat-coaster for my beer, I’m just going to dive in full force on this whole theme.

Korbinian is an eyeful of brown russet hues, dark but transparent. Truly a beautiful sight to behold, topped by a cream-colored head that left a latticework of lace in its descent. The nose is of caramel and chocolate malt aromas mostly.

The mouthfeel is rather velvety, with those muted chocolate notes sliding across the palate delicately. There’s a backing dark fruit and toffee character, which serves to prop up the malt without getting too heavy on the tongue, especially in the finish. An impressive showing, actually, and a definite uniqueness that made it stand on its own in comparison to others of its ilk.

InBev, through German brewing outfit Brauerei Beck & GmbH Co KG in Bremen, will be launching a new beer under its Beck’s brand called Beck’s Ice. Rumor has it, this beer will not only be a lime and mint-infused concoction, but also completely clear in color.

Sounds like Beck’s is getting into the malternative/alcopop set itself, coming on the heels of popular combinations like Bacardi Silver’s pre-made Mojitos, Miller Chill, and Bud Light Lime. According to Drinks Business Review, Beck’s alleges that this is the first colorless beer, but at the same time is ”a low alcohol, 2.5% ABV beer that is 50% beer and 50% soft drink flavored with lime and mint.”

First, that appears to be a contradictory statement: the first colorless beer, but it’s really only half beer. So how is a beer not beer? When it’s a malternative! Sure, there are similar processes involved, but it’s just not beer. After intensive filtration to get out all that malty aroma, taste, and hue, then combined with soda, it has taken on a new form.

Second, Miller actually test-marketed Clear Beer over a decade ago, but pulled it after results indicated it was a flop. So technically, it’s not the first truly transparent beer, but maybe just the first clear beer to be fully marketed. Even though it’s really just half beer.

Anyone else craving a Zima right about now?

A Latvian Baltic Porter, Aldaris Porteris pours out dark and forboding, a heavy black hue with only a small glint of ruby light getting in toward the bottom of the glass. Four and a half fingers of head surge up, rising just above the lip of my nonic pint, then settle after a few minutes. A trail of lace clings to the sides, with wide gaps in between. Much like my foray into some American Baltic Porters a while back, this one has all the characteristics: roasted, chocolate malt aroma, although more subtle than your average Porter, with a clean lager scent. However, this one had a touch of something else, something more like oil, actually.

The palate consists of sweet chocolate, sugary molasses, and minimal roasted coffee flavors, followed by a relatively mellow finish. There is a sugary element to this beer that tastes a little overdone, almost like imitation fruit sucrose in a sense, which detracts from its clean and well-meaning nature.

While the carbonation and body feel spot on, hovering right in between syrupy and refreshingly bubbly, the flavors seem to be a bit skewed. I truly want to love this beer, but am reminded with each sip why I don’t. A decent enough offering, but I’d prefer to meet its cousins.

Baltic Porters are an interesting breed, and difficult to define as a style. For more good write-ups, check out Boak and Bailey as well as All About Beer. If you want to read an article specifically on Aldaris Porteris, read this rundown.

As an aside, I’m on a Central/Eastern European beer kick as of late, so expect some more pondering on some German and Ukrainian selections.

Uz veselibu!

Where’ve I been lately? Away from the computer, that’s where. Sorry there hasn’t been any snarky industry commentary or any of my absolutely gripping beer reviews. I’ve just been preoccupied with other things, primarily working my fingers to the bone and relaxing with a beer or two at home most nights.

As for the blog, I was forced to change the template because there were some issues with the layout. Anyway, it’s obviously got a new look, and I hope it’s not too harmful on the eyes. I did the best I could with what little talent I have, and included a couple features I hope are helpful.

Anyway, I did manage to have some fun over the weekend and take some notes on it, so don’t think I haven’t been fitting beer into my schedule whenever possible.

Sunday was a day to kick back, take in some afternoon hockey, and taste some fine beer. My friend Steve has been complaining about the amount of beer he has just sitting, not being consumed, and I’ve had the same problem as of late. What to do? Impromptu tasting, that’s what.

We supped some Lake Placid Ubu Ale, a musty, smoky, and rather complex brown ale with a light body. Not a bad way to start off. Then came the Regenboog ‘TSmisje Dubbel, brewed with honey and dates. The only Regenboog I’ve had was their Kerst, which really blew me away. However, this offering didn’t do as much for me. It was sweet and boozy, similar to an Old Ale, but with less of a syrupy malt flavor. Something about it didn’t overly impress me, but I like the idea behind it regardless.

Next was an Eel River Triple Exultation (which is an Old Ale) that I’ve been hanging onto for a while, and I’m almost positive it’s over a year old. I started taking some notes on it, but said screw it… that was one I wanted to soak up and let linger in the memory. Nevertheless, I recommend it.

Following this was a De Ranke Bitter XX and a Russian River Damnation to cap it off. Supposedly the “hoppiest beer of Belgium,” the De Ranke left me wanting, but more than likely because of all the hype it’s received over the years. Granted, it’s an IPA Tripel, and it possessed plenty of citrusy hop and pale malt flavors, but for some reason, I’m not a fan. It could be the fusion of style that gets to me; with Belgian sugar and a hopping that seems kind of misplaced, it makes for an odd match-up. I think Houblon Chouffe really nails it, but it seems like a tough combination to brew and have it come out somewhat balanced. Maybe I just need to sit down with another one of these, but at $17 or more a bottle, I may have to hold off on picking that one up again.

The Damnation (Batch 12), on the other hand, was quite a treat. Its aroma was biscuity, pale malt, and even a yeasty presence, with a backbone of citrus and banana-like notes. On the palate, it was a juicy, bready, and full of banana, which was offset by a perfect funky hop bitterness. The malt and sweetness made for a solid, well-balanced beer that had plenty of complexity and a smooth aftertaste of the aforementioned flavors.

There were some cheeses there: that absolutely excellent Black Diamond Aged Cheddar, a one year-old Gouda, and some Stilton-wrapped-in-something abomination. It wasn’t really a pairing per se, Steve just happened to have some cheese laying around, and purchased that Stilton one that came highly recommended (which we both found laughable). But regardless, it was a great afternoon to sit and chip away at our stockpiles.