The Spencer Brewery: Profile and Tasting

By Max Spencer

St. Joseph’s Abbey of Spencer, Massachusetts, made history in 2013 by housing the first Trappist brewery in the United States. The official name of the brewery is The Spencer Brewery, and we are lucky enough to now have them on our shelves. To those unacquainted with Trappist breweries, this is a huge deal. There are only eleven Trappist breweries in the world — six in Belgium, two in the Netherlands and one each in Italy, Austria and the United States. Trappist breweries are considered amongst the best in the world, and rightfully so — included in their ranks are the likes of Orval, Chimay, Rochefort, Westmalle, and Westvleteren. But what exactly are Trappist breweries, and what makes them so noteworthy?

Trappist breweries are all run by Trappist monks at Trappist monasteries — there is no other way to achieve this designation. Trappist monks belong to the Catholic Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance. The order began in the 1600s at La Trappe Abbey in France as a reformist movement led by Jean de Rancé in response to the lax attitude of other monasteries during that time¹. Trappist monks observe a strict monastic lifestyle, one based around prayer and work — ora et labora³. Much of their labor revolves around the production of goods to be sold to the public; products such as cheeses, chocolates, breads, jams, cleaning products, body care products, and — of course — beer⁴. The sales of these products support the financial needs of the monasteries and their charitable endeavors — meaning that your purchase of their beer benefits the entire community where the monastery is located³.

Spencer Refectory — from the website

Because labor is a central tenant to the lives of Trappist monks, they tend to put time and effort into their products on a level that not many other operations can't match. Their products are truly artisanal, truly hand-crafted and truly outstanding. The Spencer Brewery is no exception when it comes to this standard of quality and effort. When creating new beers, they meticulously create test batches before committing to a recipe to be released — 13 experimental brews over three years in the case of their Quadrupel Ale². They use many local ingredients, including a proprietary yeast strain, and are currently working towards farming their own barley.

The decision to open a brewery followed the need for additional income besides their famous jams and jellies. The idea originated as a suggestion from a monk with brewing experience and a passion for it. After approval, a group of monks went on a two-year research trip, visiting the other extant Trappist breweries to learn methods and gain inspiration³. The monks at The Spencer Brewery have made some unique decisions on what to brew relative to other Trappist breweries. While they have several classic Belgian offerings in their arsenal — a patersbier, a quad, and a holiday dark — they also craft some modern styles not traditionally attributed to Trappist breweries — an IPA, a pilsner, an imperial stout and an Oktoberfest lager. Try a beer from Spencer Brewery — maybe you will find a new love in beautifully crafted beers from an ancient heritage of monks.

The Spencer Trappist Ale (patersbier)

Gold with a lacey white head. Aroma dominated by a stone fruit character — specifically apricot. There are also prominent spice notes, including clove and cinnamon. Slight tones of citrus and grain. Palate follows the nose — stone fruit, spice. There is a clear slightly sweet grainy character, yet the beer is bone dry. Very effervescent. The finish is dry and spicy with a light bitterness. A great example of a classic Trappist beer. Complex, yet incredibly balanced between fruit and spice — dry yet easily drinkable.

The Spencer Trappist Feierabendbier (pilsner)

Straw gold with a white head consisting of fine bubbles. Classic pilsner nose — earth, spice and floral tones from noble hops with a slight grainy character. Palate follows the nose closely — there’s a grainy cereal character up front with notes of oregano, basil and dried flowers from the hops in the middle. The malt and hop character mingle in the finish. Very dry, pleasantly bitter.

The Spencer Trappist IPA

The first ever Trappist-brewed IPA to be commercially available. Orange-gold with a white head when poured. A hop profile including German Perle, Apollo and Cascade results in a piney, resinous IPA with tones of pineapple and citrus in the nose and palate. The malt build has a fair amount of caramel and biscuit character with some slight sweetness to balance out a medium-high level of bitterness. The bitterness lingers with a prominent note of pine needles on the finish. Reminiscent of a West Coast IPA with a brash character, but slightly more reserved than some.

References

¹ “A Newcomer’s Guide to the Trappists.” Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance, 2017, http://www.trappists.org/newcomers/history/trappist-reform-17th-century.
² Keeley, Fr. Isaac. “The Spencer Brewery Releases New Beer: American Trappist Brewery Introduces New Quadrupel Ale.” The Spencer Brewery, 2017, http://spencerbrewery.com/.
³ ”Our Story.” The Spencer Brewery, http://spencerbrewery.com/index.php/our-story.
⁴ “Products.” The International Trappist Association, http://www.trappist.be/en/pages/products.

Can You See the Difference? (Bad Pun Intended)

By Kati Spayde

If you have been in the store recently you may have noticed the influx of canned beer. Siciliano's, along with the beer industry as a whole, is moving beer to cans whenever available. Cans are better for many reasons:

• They are better at keeping light and oxygen away from the beer, both of which harm beer's flavor
• They weigh less, meaning a smaller carbon footprint resulting from shipping beer from the brewery
• Cans are 100% recyclable, you can make new cans from all those old cans
• Beer cans are more beach, river and festival friendly

For Siciliano's, it's all about the real estate. Every year more breweries start packaging and distributing beer, but sadly our store is not getting any bigger. Cans can be stacked, which allows us to fit two cases of cans in the space taken up by one case of bottles.

So please, give cans a chance. They're just little, tiny kegs!

The selection of canned beer grows everyday at Siciliano's

Sarah's It's Still Summer 6-Pack

By Sarah "The Cheetah" Derylo

It’s early August at Siciliano’s and the pumpkin, Oktoberfest and harvest beers are arriving at a steady rate. No doubt these coveted and “short run” styles are a welcome addition on any beer enthusiast’s shelves, but summer isn’t over already...is it? Can it be true that the pilsner, wheat, session and cream ale styles are in hibernation this early, and that the big, malty, spiced harvest ales are invading without care when I only just picked my first tomato?

Canoeing the Ausable with Vivant Zaison, listening to the Tigers on the radio with growlers of Mitten brew, mushroom hunting with cans of Founder’s All Day IPA, watching fireflies with a Bell’s Oberon in hand—I suppose it’s hard to miss the writing on the label, so to speak, but I’m just not ready to say goodbye to summer in West Michigan.

Here are a few great beer reminders to help keep the season from fading too early:

• Anderson Valley Summer Solstice, $1.99/12oz - "Summer Solstice Seasonal Ale is not just your average summer seasonal. This unique copper colored ale is smooth, malty, and lightly sweet, with a delicate hint of spice for that oh-so-drinkable, extra velvety flavor" (source).
• Brooklyn Summer Ale, $1.69/12oz - "Brooklyn Summer Ale is a modern rendition of the "Light Dinner Ales" brewed in England throughout the 1800's right up until the 1940's. They were also called "luncheon ales" or even "family ales", because they were refreshing and flavorful without being too heavy. We brew our Brooklyn Summer Ale from premium English barley malt, which gives this light-bodied golden beer a fresh bready flavor. German and American hops lend a light, crisp bitterness and a citrus/floral aroma resulting in a beer with a very sunny disposition" (source).
• New Belgium Summer Helles, $1.69/12oz - "Summer Helles carries the pleasant sweetness of pale and German Pils malts, and levels off with the light and noble bitterness of Hallertau and Tettnang hops. It is 5 percent ABV and 21 IBUs, finishing crisp and dry" (source).
• Griffin Claw Norm's Gateway Session IPA, $1.39/12oz - "Consider Norm's Gateway IPA into becoming a hop head. A session IPA that is a combination of full hop flavor and lower alcohol, giving it wonderful drinkability. Crisp, clean, fruity and refreshing" (source). 
• Black Rocks Honey Lav, $1.79/12oz - "An American Wheat Ale with Michigan honey and lavender flowers" (source).
• Abita Seersucker Summer Pils, $1.69/12oz - "This brew will be made with pilsner and carapils malts and hopped with German Tradition and German Spalt hops. It is a straw-colored pilsner beer with a traditional full-bodied malt flavor and hop bitterness. (ABV 4.8% Color 7 lovibond IBU 35) Seeksucker Summer Pils will be available in Summer of 2014 and a test batch will be on tap in the Abita Visitor Center in the next coming weeks" (source).

We’d love to hear YOUR favorite West Michigan summer memory, especially if it involves a Michigan landmark and beer. Pictures are welcome on our Facebook page!

Brewery Ommegang Glimmerglass Saison

By Doug Dorda

Brewery Ommegang Glimmerglass

It seems that most human beings in this far state are as unenthusiastic about the upcoming weeks of weather as I am. In fact—no need to sugar coat it—this weather sucks something fierce. However, in the spirit of keeping on while keeping on, there are many things we might do to harden our resolve until the seasons finally shift. Might I suggest drinking a beer?

I could pour syrup-laden prose all over my review of Glimmerglass, the “spring” seasonal offered by Brewery Ommegang this year, but you will have heard it all before. At the risk of tiring my fingers I will simply state that this saison, made with sweet orange peel and pink peppercorns, conjured an image of a morning's dew bending blades of new grass that unabashedly bathe the atmosphere in a sweet aroma, all of which somehow reads “new” in my mind.

As of this moment, there is nothing that the common man can do to make the season change. There is no magic that we can wield. Unfortunately we get to be reminded of that on a daily basis. Nevertheless we might find a small comfort in knowing that our favorite breweries will not cease to bottle “spring” and therefore we are able to enjoy it now, if only 12 ounces at a time.

Brewery Ommegang Glimmerglass ($2.89/12oz) is now available at Siciliano's.

Cleaning, Sanitizing Homebrew Equipment: A Primer

By Josh Swift

The time has come. You have taken your first steps into the world of homebrewing and are ready to boil up your first batch. But hold on just a second. Many off flavors and problems during and after fermentation are the result of improper sanitation. With many commercially available cleansers and sanitizers on the market, it can often be hard to know which is most effective or ideally suited to your brewing conditions. In this primer, we will explore the various compounds available, when and where to use them, and their advantages and disadvantages.

Cleansers

Proper sanitation in brewing requires the use of both a cleanser and a sanitizer. Each compound has a specific role in insuring that your beer is free from infections and contaminations. Cleansers are used to clean dirty brewing equipment by removing soil and organic compounds. Most of the cleansers carried in homebrew stores (specifically here at Siciliano's) are oxidizing agents. This list includes PBW, B-Brite, and Straight A.  These compounds contain hydrochloride and perborate, which release active oxygen while cleaning. Simply put, these cleansers are extremely effective in attacking proteins and organic soils on your equipment. Compounds such as B-Brite and PBW must be rinsed off thoroughly after use. By using cleansers, we can insure that our sanitizers, which we will discuss next, are able to do their jobs effectively.

Sanitizers

Sanitizers are the second step in your sanitation process. Any piece of equipment that will come into contact with cool beer should be exposed to a sanitizer first. This will help prevent the introduction of foreign micro-organisms that can potentially ruin your homebrew. Here at Siciliano's, we usually recommend two types of sanitizers, but also carry a few more advanced formulas as well.

Acid Anionics

Acid anionics work by utilizing acid in a polymer to coat a surface. The solution will remain active as long as the surface is damp. Surfaces should be wet for at least 10 seconds to insure they have been sanitized. One notable benefit of this class of sanitizers is that many are a no-rinse solution. This means that there is no need to rinse equipment prior to it coming in contact with your beer and risking an infection. This is a result of the acid being diluted to such a point that it no longer acts as a sanitizer, and instead becomes a yeast nutrient. Nifty right? Our selection of acid anionics includes Star San and Saniclean. Both of these compounds also have a long period of effectiveness if they are not exposed excessive soil or contamination, remaining active for weeks after they are initially mixed.

These compounds do have some drawbacks, however. They are only effective in a narrow PH range (2-3 per manufacturers specifications). They are also relatively expensive compared to other sanitizers. One possible point of danger is that they can not be mixed with chloride solutions, as they will release toxic chlorine gas. Chlorine sanitizers are not ideal anyways as they require a thorough rinsing before equipment comes into contact with beer.

Iodophor

Iodine solutions have along history of use as sanitizing agents. Iodophor refers to a solution of iodine mixed with a surfactant to stabilize it in a solution of water. Iodophor works by way of haleogenization, disrupting the membranes of microbes and disrupting cellular processes. This means it is extremely effective against many different kinds of microbes, especially wild yeast and mold. In the correct concentration, Iodophor can also be used as a no-rinse sanitizer. Some brewers have also been kind enough to do their own research on Iodophor as well, and we have included their results at the end of this article.

However, like acid anionics, Iodophor does have limitations. If it is over-concentrated, it can stain equipment. It is also is fairly volatile at temperatures over 120F, resulting in reduced performance. Higher temperatures can also put brewers at risk of iodine gas inhalation if they are brewing in a small and poorly ventilated area. Unlike Star San, Iodophor loses effectiveness within a few days of being mixed with water.

Caustics

Caustics are an extremely effective cleanser and sanitizer. However, they are also the most dangerous compound to use. Thus, new brewers would be best suited to using the chemicals we have discussed previously. Nevertheless, caustics are extremely effective in dissolving soil and destroying microbes.

As the name suggests, caustics are extremely corrosive and will cause chemical burns. They are also extremely toxic and should not be breathed in or swallowed. Caustics must also be extensively rinsed.

Chlorine (Bleach)

There was once a time when the only viable sanitizer for homebrewers was bleach. This was a result of the very niche nature of the hobby in the 1980s and 90s. Even some books for beginning brewers still list bleach as an option. However, with all the other available sanitizers on the market at this time there are quite a few reasons to finally retire bleach from service in brewing.

Bleach needs to be thoroughly rinsed from all equipment, as it is toxic, and will adversely affect yeast, and leave noticeable flavors in finished beverages. Bleach is also quite corrosive and will discolor and damage stainless steel and other metals. Brewers should also keep in mind that using bleach in conjunction with any acids will cause the liberation of chlorine gas, a potentially deadly toxin. As a staff, we would never condone the use of bleach or any chlorides as a sanitizer.

Conclusion

Hopefully this article has helped make the process of cleaning and sanitation less intimidating. The links at the bottom of the page lead to various resources on the specifics of some of the products and processes discussed earlier. Feel free to ask questions of the Siciliano's staff as well.

• BYO Magazine interview with brewers on sanitation
• Overview of Sanitizers, Cleansers, and Best Cleaning Practices
• Manufacturer's fact sheet for Star-San

Gluten Free Beers: A Forced Perspective

By Doug Dorda

“How does this one taste?” It's a question I hear far too often coming from the painfully hopeful visage of those of our customers who are unlucky enough to have developed an allergy to gluten. The customers will point to a gluten-free offering that has arrived on the shelf and, with eyes a-shimmer, ask me or one of my co-workers to offer them solace by way of nodding a simple yes and perhaps confirming that the beer in question tastes like, well, beer. 

Being that none of us on staff at Siciliano’s has an allergy to gluten, our response to the question is often to confirm that other gluten-intolerant customers seem to enjoy it. The reason for this is not that we have anything against the gluten free options available in store; it is that we simply do not have to try them, and therefore, often will not. However, in an effort to connect with those of you who must live without gluten, and to pique the interest of everyone else, I have decided to try the gluten free (GF) offerings again and perhaps relate them to other commercially available beers.

The big three—meaning, those GF beers that are available at most locations—are New Grist, Redbridge, and Bards. Each of the beers is based off the gluten-free fermentable sorghum rather than the barley or wheat that traditional beer is made from. As I sipped each beer in kind I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed them. In my head I had convinced myself that a fundamental change to one of the ingredients of beer would almost definitely equal something awful. I had often heard of other non-afflicted imbibers complain that the sorghum was responsible for a flavor that was ultimately disagreeable to the ale drinking populace. I personally found that each of the beers reminded me more of a “entry” level belgian styles of beer. Think abbey ale with a heightened presence of bubble-gum fruit that adds a layer of appreciated intricacy to a somewhat sweeter flavor profile. I found that the addition of rice syrup to the New Grist dried out the finish a touch more than the others. But it is important to note the lasting effect of the sorghum sweetness in the profile of the beer.

My new answer to the old question—"How does this one taste?"—will first be answered with a return question, "What sort of beer did you prefer?" Being that the big three GF beers are more akin to the sweet, fruity, floral and spicy notes of a Belgian ale I would not suggest them to someone who loved, say American IPAs or pale ales; yet their flavor, I'm sure, can be appreciated by those who enjoy the complex bouquet of flavors found in the realm of Belgian ales.

It is not my intention to detail the possible health benefits of a gluten free diet, or to argue the legitimacy of lifestyle changes as pertains to a personal GF prescription. I merely intend to try all classes of the beers offered to those who seek to try them so that they may be better educated as far as their closest gluten-laden kin. In the coming weeks, I will detail my experience with the other families of GF beer and do my best to offer their possible comparisons. Please feel free to offer your own experiences with GF beers, or suggest some you would like me to try. Next week I will offer my notes and comparisons on the kombucha based beers of Unity Vibrations.

Siciliano's Suggests a Six Pack for Summer

A super summer sixer

By Doug Dorda

Lately we hear it more and more: “Hey, can you suggest some summer-y beers?” The requests seem to have been spurred on by the general swath of good weather that we have been seeing over the past weeks. I myself lust for the lazy sun-drenched afternoons, tubing down rivers, extended camping trips, and piling food onto a charcoal grill.

It is no small wonder that people, myself included, take advantage of summer seasonal beer offerings mid-spring in an effort to provide their taste buds with a preview of the season to come. In the spirit of easy strolls on the beach and wild, lingering sunsets, I'm suggesting six of my favorite beers to complement the season of sun.

• Sam Adams Porch Rocker, $1.59/12oz - A wonderfully crisp and refreshing ale that is imbued with the flavor of tart and slightly sweet lemon. An American take on the Bavarian raddler.
• Anderson Valley Summer Solstice, $1.99/12oz - Per their website, “A cream soda for adults.” Enough said. 
• Shiner Ruby Red Bird, $1.49/12oz - If Summer Solstice is a cream soda, this is a ginger ale. Red Bird is packed with thirst quenching ginger and grapefruit that are only too inviting on a hot summers eve.
• Sierra Nevada Summerfest, $1.59/12oz - A no frills, Bohemian-style pilsner that balances earthy hop notes with an exquisite underlying malt nuance.
• New Belgium Shift Pale Lager, $1.59/12oz - It’s hard to describe the beer better than they do in this video.
• Brewery Vivant Farmhand, $2.69/16oz - A farmhouse ale with enough fruity spicy funk to end up drying on the palate while being complex enough to leave the drinker contemplative. 

Bear in mind that this is just one person's suggestions, and I could easily write two more blog posts for two more six packs. I would, however, love to hear from you folks about your favorite summer beers. Please comment with your own six pack suggestions that we might all perhaps discover something new for this summer.

Roadbelly: A New Michigan-Centric Foodie Magazine

By Chris Siciliano

We're helping spread the word about Roadbelly, a hip new Michigan-centric foodie magazine currently in the works from a collection of the area's most creative (hungry/thirsty) people. Here's the description from their website:

Roadbelly is about uncovering real, honest food & drink, and telling the stories. A crew of more than 20 creative, award-winning individuals from photographers, writers, editors to illustrators, programmers and designers have committed to launch RoadBelly. We strive to motivate. We hope to inspire. We are for purpose, NOT for profit. You won’t find any ads in here. Roadbelly is awesome chefs and grassroots eats. Slow food, surly brews, meads, and more. So hitch a ride with us as we seek out pure, edible, drinkable joy.

A free, downloadable preview of the magazine—including a story I wrote on bread/baking—is available now on the Roadbelly homepage, with the first full-length print edition coming this summer. Learn more about the Roadbelly mission by watching the video below.

Roadbelly Website Promo from John Boros Productions on Vimeo.

Craft Beer Culture in Michigan

The craft beer culture is thriving in Michigan. But how exactly is that culture defined? Among other things, with pretzel necklaces.

Pretzel bandolier

By Wes Eaton

We often hear allusions to “beer culture,” but what exactly does this mean and why is this important? We all know what beer is: fermented malt beverage. But of course, to different people in many different ways, beer is so much more. In West Michigan, beer is increasingly important to the broader do-it-yourself as well as economic growth agendas, which contributes to heightened visibility through media coverage as well as everyday discussions. We are often asked, ‘have you been to the new brewery?’ to which we now reply, ‘which one?’

The Michigan Brewers Guild Winter Beer Fest is big discussion not just for beer geeks but for everyday people who increasingly find craft beer to provide opportunities for community, livelihoods, and a good time. Here is the link to culture that I want to explore. If beer is more than malt beverage, how can the concept of ‘culture’ help us understand its importance and increasing prominence in everyday life? To answer this, I’ll first discuss why culture is important and provide two ways culture has been conceptualized. I’ll then provide some examples from this past winter’s Winter Beer Festival to illustrate the importance and power of culture.

Why is culture important and what does it mean to say culture is “powerful”? Essentially, culture is important as it provides a way for us to make a link between the realms of symbols/meaning-making and social action. In other words, culture is powerful as it is the bridge between ideas and the things we do. How does this bridge work?

Cultural theorist Ann Swidler tells us that there are two dominant ways people think about the concept of culture. The first she calls culture from the “inside out” in reference to what is imagined to be going on inside people’s heads. In this model, people are constrained by the ideas they find out there in the world. Swidler tells us that, from this perspective, “culture shapes action by defining what people want and how they imagine they can get it.” This perspective comes from the famous social theorist Max Weber who tells us world views and ideas are the “switchmen” on train tracks that determine which paths we will take in life. Swidler argues that this perspective is not very helpful as clearly we do not know what is going on in people’s minds.

Swidler labels the second perspective culture from the “outside in,” which argues culture should not be studied as something that is only inside people’s heads. Rather, culture can be thought of as “publicly available symbols—rituals, aesthetic objects,” and other physical manifestations. From this perspective, culture is not useful for explaining individual actions or ideas, values, dogmas, or other meanings, but instead represents the “symbolic vocabularies, expressive symbols, and emotional repertoire” of everyday life. The essential point Swidler tells us is that culture is not the ends that people seek, but the tools people use to seek out anything that they wish. In other words, culture is a “tool kit” of habits, skills, and styles that people use to construct their strategies of action in life. By thinking about culture as a tool kit, we can better investigate shared collective and public meanings and symbols and how these are meaningful to people.

Let’s give this a try by looking at examples from this past winter’s Michigan Brewers Guild Winter Beer Festival held in Grand Rapids. The event is a spectacular menagerie of experimental beers and experimental people. Culture is on display, from the way brewers and breweries present themselves and their beers to the hats, outfits, and especially pretzel and other edible necklaces of the beer culture elites. Short’s brewery, for instance, is consistently a crowd favorite not only for their beer but for their outrageous, inventive, and provocative displays of beer culture. In years past, Short’s crew built their serving booth from blocks of ice cut from a northern Michigan lake and added marshmallows that were toasted with a handheld torch on site to their S’more Stout. Such acts are deemed provocative as they violate the boundaries purists envision for what constitutes “true” beer, much in the same way that the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) works to “differentiate between the bland processed beers being pushed by the big brewers and the traditional beers whose very existence was under threat.”

For me, the most striking and powerful example of beer culture, however, is the pretzel necklace, or at least what started as a pretzel necklace and has now grown to include snacks not usually strewn around one’s neck. As you can see from the photos, cheese sticks, meats sticks, popcorn, and even chicken legs were not off limits for innovative beer fans. What is important here is the power these necklaces afford their wearers. Much in the same vein as a tribal warrior with a rope of bear or tiger teeth around their neck, the beer fans whose necks are weighted down with meats and sweets are respected and even feared in the sense that they are displaying their experience and intensity. These are fans to be reckoned with. Clearly one who took the time or had the foresight to construct such a badge of courage and tenacity knows why they are there and that they belong. Moreover, seeing such powerful symbolic displays leads one to ask ‘do I belong here? These people are the real thing!’

To pull this all together then, I suggest that we think about beer culture as the collective and symbolic expressions of a group or collective identity. Beer culture is something we display, and the importance of that display is only ever meaningful within this group. Wearing a pretzel necklace in the classroom or the office, for instance, is less likely to imbue one with power as it is to incite suspicion and mild anxiety. Moreover, beer culture does not move us around like pieces on a chess board, it does not determine or even guide the actions of people. Instead, we draw on the shared elements of beer culture—e.g. our knowledge of styles or the history of India Pale Ales, the difference between a stout and a porter, number of batches brewed, the Imperial Stouts or out-of-state beers in our cellar, number of MI beers on tap, being rated as “Beer City USA” and so on—like tools in a tool kit to accomplish what it is we hope to do. And in the realm of craft beer, this often has to do with building a specific collective identity that is opposed to the main mainstream elements of both beer brewing and life in general.

Spring IPA Review: Great Lakes, Abita, Anderson Valley

By Kati Spayde

Springtime just screams IPA to me. With the reawakening of the senses after the long Michigan hibernation, we all deserve some fresh, crisp flavors. Three IPAs that deserve consideration this spring are Abita Spring IPA, Great Lakes Rye of the Tiger and Anderson Valley Heelch O' Hops. All three of these beers tempt the palate without overpowering your taste buds.

• Abita Spring IPA, $1.69/12oz - At 6.5%, this citrusy IPA has a has a nice blend of Amarillo and Centennial hops, with a bit of spicy-ness and resin. Medium bodied, it has a little bit of malt sweetness and a nice, clean bitter finish.
• Great Lakes Rye of the Tiger, $1.69/12oz - A nice balance of citrus and pine go into this IPA. The addition of rye to this beer gives it a clean, dryer than usual finish and a bit of spice.
• Anderson Valley Heelch O' Hops, $3.09/12oz - This is one double IPA that doesn't go over the top. All elements of this are balanced, from the citrus and pine resin of the hops to the sweetness and biscuit notes of the malt. And at only 8.6%, you can put back a couple without hurting in the morning.

Bell's Oberon: A Symbol of Summer and So Much More

Bell's Oberon was released this year on March 25, 2013. In the post below, staffer Greg 'Swig' Johnson reflects on what he believes this annual event—Oberon Day—has come to mean for craft beer enthusiasts and casual fans alike.

By Greg "Swig" Johnson

Ramble (Ober)on.

Now that another Oberon Day has come and gone, I've been reflecting on the significance of this day in West Michigan. The way I see it, Oberon has done one thing no other beer in West Michigan, the whole of Michigan, and possibly even the whole country has been able to do—Oberon has become a symbol for an entire season, and one of the best seasons at that: summer.

In a way, I'm indifferent to Oberon. That doesn't mean I think Oberon is a bad beer, not by any stretch of the imagination; in fact, it's quite the opposite. Oberon is consistently produced in high quantities and with high quality. My preference in beer styles has simply shifted over the years to where I don't reach for an Oberon when I might have in the past. Oberon has a different meaning to me now and this is where I feel justified in saying this beer has become a symbol.

The arrival of Oberon means that the end to winter is near and the seemingly endless reaches of summer are now within reach. Also, as a symbol, Oberon does not appeal only to the craft beer centric masses—year after year I see more and more BMC drinkers also reach for a six pack of Oberon when a Saturday summer BBQ is at hand. It has reached a scale of identifiability in Michigan that is unsurpassed by probably any other craft beer, which further confirms its place as a symbol more than any other seasonal craft beer offering.

This past Oberon Day, I embarked on a Michigan mini-adventure that was not Oberon centric. I wasn't seeking any of the countless Oberon release parties or blow-out pint specials that happen every year. However, as my afternoon travels turned into the evening, they brought me to Pints & Quarts in Norton Shores where, if anyone could guess, Oberon was on special for $2 a pint.

While hemming and hawing over the great beer list, thoughts of Oberon wouldn't leave my mind. I'm not sure if it had to do with the recent thawing of Lake Michigan, or seeing the cases and cases of Oberon walk into Siciliano's that morning, or maybe it was the $2 pint special. Whatever the case, I saddled up to a pint of Oberon, orange and all, and you know what? It was everything I thought it could be.

Now that the cold dark depths of winter have passed, I for one am happy to see that golden orange orb atop Bell's tap handles (even though I love winter). With Daylight Savings now behind us and wisps of sunlight reaching above the horizon well past 8pm, not to mention the dwindling snowpack, do as a recent and clever meme so aptly put it: Keep Calm and Oberon.

Touring Cantillon: Alternative World for Brewing Beer

The author at Cantillon

By Wes Eaton

Today, brewing processes are guided by the tenets of a modern, positivist science. Like scientists in research laboratories, brewers, cellar-persons, and other producers employ instruments and equipment and utilize human technique and skill to understand and replicate ‘nature.’ While brewing is at its essence a promotion of natural fermentation processes, at the same time, producers want to bracket out the randomness and uncertainties of nature. I'll reiterate my point: Of the upmost importance is the control of nature. The brewery is to become a laboratory in that natural processes are to be disciplined by scientist/producers.

This is the enduring struggle of producing modern beer: warding off naturally occurring organic and inorganic ‘contaminants’ that threaten a target product and production schedule by disciplining natural processes through the tools of technoscience. The struggle is ceaseless as neither opponent, science or nature, will ultimately be victorious. Producers will always need to scrub, sanitize, and otherwise separate their laboratory/brewery from the environment—bacteria, oxygen, and excess heat. Indeed this comprises the work of nearly every stage of the modern brewing process.

The point of presenting modern brewing practices in this way is to demonstrate their embedded cultural values of disciplining and controlling nature. In her 1980 book The Death of Nature, the feminist ecologist Carolyn Merchant argues our contemporary worldview was born during the Scientific Revolution of the 17th century. During this time, Francis Bacon, René Descartes, and other “fathers of science” formulated a new view of nature. Instead of a benevolent, all-providing mother that we are to fear and revere, nature was a mistress that would only reluctantly bear her secrets under the trials of controlled experimentation. Adaptation to uncertainties and unknowns was no longer adequate, instead, we can master and tame the “wicked” randomness of nature.

I thought about this last month in Brussels, Belgium while my wife and I toured and tasted Cantillon, the renowned brewery and “living museum of the traditional Gueuze” and Lambic beer styles. These styles epitomize what American beer enthusiasts now lovingly term “sour” beers. Historically, they largely lost popularity sometime between the World Wars, only to be steadily rediscovered, as the myth goes, by later generations of beer hunters and other actors in the craft beer movement. Cantillon is in tune with this, mandating visitors take an extensive self-guided tour before sampling their sours, the hope being that through this experience, others will spread their story and continue to come back to Gueuze. We began in the back of the stone and wooden barn-like brewery with the century old but still operational Mash Tun, then up wooden stairs to the riveted “cool ship.” Lacking modern temperature control, wort is chilled in this shallow copper ship in the upper rafters, where we noted used malt bags operated as flaps that could be opened and closed, allowing more or less of a cool breeze to enter. Here the beer is left uncovered, inviting wild bacterias and yeasts to inoculate the wort naturally. As cooling is necessary, beer brewing is a seasonal project, only taking place during the colder months of the year.

After a night’s rest, the bacteria laden wort is sent to oak barrels which rest in the adjacent attic wherein the wort is fermented, messily, into ale. Like the breezy attic, the oak barrels allow the beer to “breathe” and evaporate, ultimately reducing the final volume by as much as one fifth. As air increasingly enters the barrels, the active bacterias form oxygen protective skins across the surface of the beer. Workers hand labeling bottles down below later told us the ubiquitous cobwebs found throughout the rafters and in between aging barrels were evidence of the spiders that balance out harmful insects. This is especially important during the warm summer months when brewing is avoided but whole, sticky, sour black cherries are added to selected barrels to make Kriek. This is evidence of one way in which the brewery, as a living organism itself, seeks to adapt rather than dominate nature.

When finished, the raw, still, unblended golden colored ale is deemed Lambic, which tastes acidic, tepid, and much thinner than, for instance, an American style ale. Gueuze is born when minimum three year old Lambic is blended with younger, still fermenting ales, corked and capped in champagne bottles, and left to finish fermenting and therefore ‘naturally’ carbonate on its side along the dank stone walls and amongst hundreds of others. Rather than instruments, cultivated human taste determines when the bottles are ready for labeling and enjoying. After the tour we were offered pours of unblended lambic, Gueuze, and other styles. While sipping I thought about dark corners of the brewery we were not only allowed but encouraged to crawl through, and the times we had to squeeze around producers as they tended to their labor intensive tasks. This simply does not happen in modern breweries.

At first blush the lessons from this experience are rather simple. Here we have a brewery, a production process, and really a culture that has learned how best not only to adapt to its natural environment, but to flourish in a way that enhances it. Like homemade maple syrup, each drop is not only the intended ingredients but the larger local material world captured in liquid form. We could smell the rafters, cellars, barrels, and atmosphere in our glasses precisely because they were intentionally incorporated into the beer, not bracketed out by disciplining nature.

But this is only a first step in a broader evaluation. The next is to note the existence of at least two of what Merchant calls “worldviews” for approaching beer production. On the one hand there is what we might term the “science” model premised on disciplining nature, as observed above. On the other, we have a view that lets nature in by learning to adapt to its incongruence. Spiders, porous oak, seasonal variances, bacterias, and other naturally, locally occurring elements are enlisted to bring about a final product that itself embodies the tensions between the will and imaginations of the brewers and the agendas within the local environment.

So yes, we can tease out possibly two contending world views. But please don’t mistake my mission here. My argument is not that one or the other is better or worse and should be pursued or abandoned. There are multiple points that could be argued on behalf of each “world view.” For instance, to take just one example, in regards to distributive justice, how could inefficient production systems such as Cantillon meet the demands of the burgeoning craft beer culture masses? Instead I want to make two points that will hopefully spur new ways of thinking about craft beer production.

The first is the notion that, even in the most technologically and scientifically sophisticated production facilities, beer is co-produced by both scientific technique and nature. Like a river that is both actively guided by and shaping its respective banks, particular beer products are always the culmination of the enduring struggle between controlling and letting nature in. Secondly, in regards to the two “world views” I promote in this article, no single brewery is entirely on one or another of these paths. Instead, to varying degrees, particular brewery production cultures, standards, and norms, simultaneously draw from the wells of each. This process itself leads to tensions that are constantly negotiated through interactions not only within individual breweries, but between the cadres of investors, distributors, retailers, other brewers, and of course beer fans that make up participants in the craft beer field. My point then is that teasing out these discordant “worlds” can provide a greater appreciation for the many aspects of brewery and beer culture with which we can choose to emphasize, challenge, and ultimately identify.

Grand Rapids Brewing Company: Good Press Since 1913

The original GRBC sat at the corner of
East Bridge (Michigan St) & Ionia*

Recently, while researching old newspaper archives, I came across a full page article about the Grand Rapids Brewing Company that ran in the August 23rd, 1913 edition of The Grand Rapids Press.

I use the word “article” loosely as the anonymous writer unabashedly praised both the wholesomeness of the company’s products and the wonders of its state of the art facilities. In reality, it was a paid advertisement wrapped in the guise of a feature story—an attempt by the GRBC to counter the anti-alcohol campaigns that were at the time threatening Michigan’s brewing industry. That fact alone gives the piece historical value. It’s a bonus that we find scattered throughout the blatant horn blowing and purple prose a number of interesting details regarding the workings of a “modern”  brewery in the early 20th century. 

The article begins by stating that “in the modern brewery one will find none of the lamentable conditions which are too prevalent in restaurants, dairies, bakeries, etc. Rather one finds the greatest possible cleanliness and freedom from circumstances which breed and propagate disease producing bacteria.” The reader is then informed that six local breweries consolidated to form the GRBC in 1892 and that the company moved into its “splendid” and “stupendously large” plant three years later.

A discussion of the brewing process follows. Readers are informed that “brewing begins with malt” and that malt is barley that has been germinated and kilned after the sprouts had been removed. We learn that the GRBC mechanically elevated its malt to storage bins on the upper floor and that gravity was used to move the grain to the lower level of the brew house. The author states that corn and rice are used in the production of American beer, explaining that adjuncts aren’t utilized by brewers in Germany “not for the reason of securing a fine quality of beer but because corn and rice are not produced in Germany. Indeed, the best authorities today favor the use of corn or rice with the malt.”

The author further educates the reader by stating that hops are another component of beer and that chemical hop substitutes are never used by the GRBC brewers. According to the article, the company purchased hops once a year from Washington, Oregon and Germany, and stored “the vast supply at low temperatures so as not to become rancid.” 

We learn that after the malt was milled it was placed in “cookers” and immersed in hot water. The malt was mashed, the liquid was strained through perforated bottoms and was then transferred into large kettles where it was boiled with the hops. At the end of the boil the liquid passed through a hop jack, was pumped into coolers and was then transferred to the fermentation tanks in the cellar. GRBC had thirty-two open fermenters, each having a capacity of 150 barrels, that were made from California redwood. The brewery’s yeast, the reader is told, was cultivated in a laboratory from strains initially imported from Germany.

After fermentation the beer was transferred into wooden tanks, also located in the cellar, where it aged for six months “during which time it ripened and matured.” The finished beer was then packaged in wooden kegs or sent to a bottling line that was capable of packaging 400 barrels of beer in ten hours. In 1913, the brewery kegged and bottled four beers—Silver Foam, Export, Pilsner and Alt Nuernberger.

After describing the brewing operation the author states that “No one can go thorough the plant of the Grand Rapids Brewing Company and not feel very deeply that the modern brewer is not like his ancestor, a bungling workman and empiricist. Rather he is an educated observer of scientific laws who has an adequate knowledge of chemistry and biology and who follows out well established rules in his everyday work in order to conform to modern tastes and modern economy.” This rather curious statement may have been an attempt by the brewery to distance itself from the anti-German sentiment that was sweeping west Michigan. Most of the area’s breweries had initially been established by German immigrants and the temperance movement was linking the unwholesomeness of consuming beer to the legacy of the German brewers.

In an obvious attempt to refute prohibitionist claims that beer is unwholesome and that the alcohol it contains is, indeed, poisonous, the writer ends the article by providing a quote attributed to a Professor T.J. Clouster of Edinburg University: “Alcohol excites the appetite, improves digestion, stimulates certain nutritive processes and is beneficial in the laying down of fat.” Apparently the GRBC had decided it was time to fight the outrageous claims being spouted by the dry movement with its own sort of scurrilous fire.

*Photo courtesy of the Grand Rapids Historical Commision

Dry Michigan No More

By Steve Siciliano

Beer tokens, 2013 MI Winter Beer Fest

Of the 6000 craft beer lovers who attended the Michigan Winter Beer Festival this past Saturday at Fifth Third Park, a good number of them traveled to Grand Rapids from areas outside of the state. Folks from as far away as Louisiana, Virginia, Connecticut and Colorado shopped at local stores, stayed at west Michigan hotels and visited the area’s breweries, pubs and restaurants. They paid lodging taxes, the six percent sales tax and when they filled up their gas tanks, they paid the 19 cents per gallon Michigan gasoline tax. They consumed and purchased a great deal of Michigan beer which will translate into more excise taxes when the state breweries replenish their inventories. In short, the craft beer industry has turned out to be a huge economic asset for the state.

That’s a good thing because the more tax dollars an industry pumps into government coffers. the less likely it is to be victimized by crippling legislation. Because of the potential for abuse, alcohol always has and always will be a political football, and short sighted politicians have always shown a propensity for siding with powerful self-serving interest groups. That was the case when Michigan banned the production and sale of alcoholic beverages two years before the passage of National Prohibition. The current tag line for The Michigan Economic Development Corporation’s tourism advertising campaign is “Pure Michigan.” An apt slogan for our state back in the early years of the twentieth century would have been “Dry Michigan.”

The Woman’s Christian Temperance Union and The Anti-Saloon League at one time were extremely powerful political forces in Michigan and they were instrumental in getting our state to be one of the first to go dry. National Prohibition had, of course, a devastating effect on the entire country’s brewing industry but the destruction it wrought on a national level had a two-year head start in Michigan. That makes what’s happening with the incredible resurgence and growth of craft brewing in our state all the more remarkable.

Is Craft Beer a Social Movement?

By Weston Eaton

Social movements are collective actions organized by institutional outsiders that challenge existing power structures. The civil rights battles of the 1960s and the ongoing struggles of American Indians or the LGBT community are iconic examples. These groups demand recognition not only from the state for their legitimate rights to be treated as equals under the law; more than this, these groups form new collective identities, or a sense of “we-ness,” to challenge dominant cultural mores. There are transferrable lessens here for the craft beer community. In the world of craft beer, home-, micro-, and craft breweries challenge giants like Anheuser-Busch InBev and MillerCoors. These challenges are more than battles over market shares. These are challenges over cultural acceptance, distinction, and legitimacy more broadly.

In his 2009 book Market Rebels: How Activists Make or Break Radical Innovations, the young social scientist Hayagreeva Rao uses a social movements lens to understand how it was possible for a craft brewing movement to gain traction in a market so heavily dominated (98% in 2003) by well known brands with well established distribution networks and centralized planning. To understand this question, folks like us who are immersed in beer culture need to take a few steps back. Industrial economics theory points out that, over time, industries concentrate, and in doing so, move from specialists to generalists. This is helpful as it sheds some light on things like the taste of Little Caesars versus the pies at Harmony Brewing, or Coors Light compared to Founders Solid Gold or Bell’s Amber. Furthermore, according to theory, as generalists move more to the center, room opens up at the peripheries. This is the space Rao wants to explore in the world of craft beer.

The craft beer movement is clearly a success, however one might define success. This is important because not all movements, of course, are successful. Understanding how craft beer, as a culture, a market, a lifestyle, became successful sheds light on the way cultures develop and are themselves responded to. Unpacking this requires that we look at the people involved, the contexts they shape and operate within, and the way they work with others to achieve their aims. Rao’s argument is close to arguments I have been making for some time in this column: from home to micro and craft segments, craft beer is by definition less about market share and more an expression of a new identity, one premised on small-scale, authentic, and traditional methods of production. Recently I wrote about the “Local Trap,” the tendency to confuse scale, which is a means, with taste, an end. The point then is that taste, as in both the cultivated tastes of enthusiasts and the way a product tastes, is a significant component of identity.

Now we are nearing the “creation story” of craft beer. WWII vets returned home from Germany, Belgium, and France—where beers were as diverse as dog breeds—only to find what Michael Jackson termed “chicken-feedy” lagers, as in tasting too much like corn. Within this myth, however, is a wedge of pertinence that can give insight into social movements applicability: consumers might be open to alternative tastes. Adding to this was the modern homebrewing movement, championed and popularized by folks like Charlie Papazian who did for home brewing what Carl Sagan did for science. From these ranks were born folks like Sam Calagione, who, like his counterparts, is voracious about creating and defending the standards that separate craft beer from, say, Miller Lite. As Calgione might say, no matter that MillerCoors brands unequivocally outsell 90 Minute IPA, they lack terroir, the sense of place associated with products made within certain locales. In the emerging craft beer identity, generalist victories are not the point.

As I have warned in previous essays, however, this presents a slippery slope. How exclusive ought craft beer culture be? Where do we draw the line, and who draws it? Rao points out that contract breweries like Boston Beer Company (Sam Adams) make substantially different claims about what is at the root of craft beer cultural identities. For Boston Beer, fresh ingredients equal craft beer. For others, like those who drafted the American Craft Brewer Definition for the Brewer’s Association, craft brewers must be small (less than 6 million barrels a year), independent (less than 25% of the brewery is owned by non craft breweries), and traditional (meaning adjuncts are used to enhance, not simplify the product).

These tensions demonstrate a few nuances I would like to add to Rao’s argument. While the craft beer movement is a success, by no means is it homogenous. People who identify with this cultural movement harbor a range of perspectives and interests that are not always harmonious. Moreover, although successful, the cultural, market, and identity battles are clearly ongoing. There is no clear distinction between craft and non craft. Instead, differences are socially constructed by interested groups. For example, as brewing consultant John Haggerty pointed out to me years ago, Budweiser, like Boston Beer, and so many others, indeed uses some of the finest malts and hops and well cared for water in the world of beer.

But it is the intangibility of identity that ultimately can help us make sense of such technical incongruences. Overall Rao’s point is that without the network of “evang-ale-ists,” home brewers and enthusiasts, craft beer would hardly be the market and cultural success it is today. Of course successful retailers, breweries, and brewpubs know this well. My argument is that in thinking of craft beer as a social movement, one that so many of us have been affected by, we can see that this is an ongoing movement, whose boundaries are porous, aims are fluid, champions are varied and contested, and that we ourselves, as home- or professional brewers or industry folk, or especially as beer drinkers, can have a hand in steering.

Like other popular movements, such as environmental movements, one could argue that what’s really going on here is the coinciding of several movements. Steve Siciliano of Siciliano’s Market pointed this out when he discussed the symbiotic relationships that emerge between various players in regional markets. I think this is accurate and, in West Michigan, we certainly seem to be situated at the front lines of this convergence.

Craft Beer Community, Craft Beer Culture

Russ Smith & Sierra Nevada's Jim Macielak,
soon after Russ was presented the trophy
for 2012 Best of Show.

By Steve Siciliano

Lat Saturday, Barb and I joined Russ Smith and a group of his fellow Muskegon Ottawa Brewers at Vitale’s in Comstock Park to celebrate the tapping of a keg of On the Rocks Scotch Ale, the beer that Russ helped design and brew last August at a Sierra Nevada Beer Camp.

As I sipped my second pint, I reflected on how good it felt to have played a small part in the process that brought this beer to fruition. Russ was given the opportunity to attend the three-day camp at Sierra Nevada because his homebrewed beer won Best of Show last year at the Siciliano’s Homebrew Competition. But the ultimate credit goes to Sierra Nevada owner Ken Grossman for recognizing the importance of fostering and maintaining a relationship with the homebrewing community.

Ken, himself a former homebrewer, and the folks at Sierra Nevada get it. They realize the role that homebrewing played in the revival of craft beer in this country and they recognize that its continued growth is in no small part due to the growing number of homebrewers. There is a unique and wonderful synergy going on between the legion of passionate hobbyists and the ranks of the brewing professionals.

It is this synergy that lies at the heart of what is commonly referred to as the “craft beer community” and the corresponding concept of the “craft beer culture.” According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, culture is the “the set of shared attitudes, values, goals and practices that characterizes an institution or organization.” When applied to the craft beer scene in this country, this definition works perfectly.

After leaving Vitale’s, Barb and I stopped at Perrin where this year’s Best-of-Show winner will be given the opportunity to brew the winning recipe. I enjoyed a beer feeling happy that I was a member of a wonderful community, and also knowing that I was sharing in the values of a rather unique, rich and fulfilling culture.

Left Hand Fade to Black Vol. 4 | A Beer Review

Left Hand Fade To Black Volume 4,
Rocky Mountain Black Ale, $2.09/12oz 

By Doug Dorda

Each year, as the cold months creep in and the light of day wanes faster from the sky, Left Hand Brewing Company releases its seasonal offering under the title of Fade to Black. The style itself changes from year to year with the one caveat being that the bottle will always house a “black” beer of some sort. This year's salute to the short days of winter is touted by the website as a “Rocky Mountain Black Ale.” As with the other offerings prior to this one, my intrigue was piqued, and I now offer my perceptions.

Volume 4 pours—you guessed it—black. In fact, it pours a hearty black that only reveals itself as translucent brown when tilted at extreme angles toward a light. The quickly dissipating head is a creamy tan that consists of tightly coalesced C02 bubbles that disperse the aromas quite nicely. Intense levels of orange, tangerine, and all other members of the peel-to-eat citrus fruit family parade proudly within the nose. If the ale is allowed to warm slightly, the citrus aromas give way, though only a little, to nuances of chocolate, licorice and toast, which allows for expectation of complexity as the taste approaches.

Contrary to the hearty presence of citrus in the nose, the taste is an immediate rush of deep molasses, lightly burnt toast, chocolate, and just a hint of smoked pepper. This is not to say that these flavors are in any way overpowering, for indeed they are dutifully balanced and well dampened by a large amount of C02 that leaves what would otherwise be a large-bodied beer pleasantly dry on the palate. The finish also announces the return of citrus as well as a mild black peppercorn note that is alarmingly complimentary to the whole of the beer.

Overall, I feel that this is an ale best paired with winter food fare, or perhaps a fireside chat. As I swirled the beer in my mouth I began to unconsciously set a menu with blue cheeses for a starting dish, a main course of roasted chicken served alongside sauteed mushrooms, and a dessert of dried and candied fruits. For all intents and purposes, this beer seems as though it would be well suited to accompany any dish that might be served with a hearty red wine.

As always, I implore you to try the beer for yourself, and perhaps plan a dinner to go with it. After all, the days will not get considerably longer for some time now – perhaps it is time we created reasons to enjoy the gradient Fade to Black.

Pumpkin Beer: Long History, Developing Tradition

Timmermans Pumpkin Lambicus,
$11.99/750

By Steve Siciliano

In view of the current popularity of pumpkin beers in this country it should come as no surprise that a non-American brewery would want a piece of this seasonal marketing pie. With the appearance last week in the store of a “pumpkin” beer from Timmermans, a Belgian brewery that produces quality lambics, inevitability has turned into reality. While Timmermans Pumpkin Lambicus is the only pumpkin beer not produced in the states that I’m aware of, it’s probably safe to assume that others will follow. I’ll be giving my impression of the Timmermans’ offering after a few thoughts on the somewhat mystifying pumpkin beer phenomenon.

There are some craft beer purists who loathe these beers. Since the use of the eponymous gourd is negligible in some and is non-existent in others, they maintain that these beers should be simply called what they essentially are—spiced ales and lagers.

The use of pumpkins in the production of beer is uniquely American. Our colonial forefathers, including George Washington, occasionally added pumpkins to their beer recipes, not because they wanted to but because they had to. Good quality, inexpensive malt was hard to acquire back then and the indigenous gourd, with its requisite starches and sugars, provided a viable alternative. As malt became more readily available, the use of pumpkins in the production of beer became an historical footnote. It might have remained there if not for William (Buffalo Bill) Owens.

Back in the mid 1980’s Owens, who was at the time the owner of Buffalo Bill’s Brewery in Haywood, California, was researching historical beer recipes when he came across one, allegedly formulated by George Washington, which used pumpkin flesh in the mash. Owens also happened to be a gardener. He took one of his prize 500 pound pumpkins, chunked it, baked it and then threw the pieces into a mash for his standard amber ale. After he fermented and carbonated the beer, Owens was disappointed that it had no discernible pumpkin flavor. But then he had a brewing epiphany—why not use pumpkin pie spices to achieve the flavor profile that he thought would be achieved from using the baked pumpkin? He brewed another batch, this time without pumpkin, and dumped a can of pumpkin pie spices into the bright tank. The first modern “pumpkin” beer was born.

Obviously it’s these spices, used in differing proprietary amounts and combinations, which are the main reason as to why pumpkin beers today are so popular. People equate the spicy flavors and aromas of these brews to those of pumpkin pie. And who doesn’t like pumpkin pie? But maybe there are other, perhaps subliminal, factors that are contributing to pumpkin beers’ wild popularity.

I would guess that most adults have fond memories of donning costumes and traipsing through neighborhoods collecting overflowing bags of treats on Halloween. Perhaps drinking a beer that exalts the most cherished and ubiquitous symbol of Halloween helps rekindle those memories and allows for a somewhat vicarious participation in a decidedly childlike activity. Then again, maybe the popularity of these brews is due to the fact that the pumpkin is such a photogenic fruit and its image looks so appetizing when plastered on a beer label. Other fruits are used in beer and make equally delicious pies—apples, cherries peaches and blueberries for instance—but they haven’t lent their names to a craft beer phenomenon. Can this be because they don’t have the same visually appealing impact and marketing panache of the pumpkin?

I have to admit that it was in part due to the appealing image of a plump pumpkin on the label that enticed me into trying the Pumpkin Lambicus. That and the fact that a lambic made with pumpkin sounded intriguing—so intriguing that I chose to ignore the words “beer with natural flavors added” that were clearly visible on the label. I poured the beer into two chalices and admired the dark orange hue and the creamy white head. It certainly looked the way I imagined that a pumpkin beer should look. But there was none of the familiar pumpkin-pie spiciness in the nose or the flavor, the beer smelling and tasting, in fact, more apple-like than pumpkin-like. It certainly wasn’t bad and both Barb and I enjoyed it, but in the end we agreed that an appealing image of a baked apple rather than the ubiquitous plump orange gourd should have been plastered on the label.

Leinenkugel Big Eddy Series: Wee Heavy, Imperial IPA, Baltic Porter

Big Eddy Series, $2.99/12oz

By Doug Dorda

Though the name of Jacob Leinenkugel has become synonymous with berryweiss and all other manor of shandy offerings, they have been releasing bold beers under the “Big Eddy” brand for over a year now. The beers found in this series include a Russian Imperial Stout, Wee Heavy, Imperial IPA, and finally a Baltic Porter.

Leinenkugels' aim for this series was to showcase that they are as serious about beer as any other craft brewery, and that they do not lack the vision to provide them to the enthusiasts of America. However, as the beers have rolled out, I could not help but notice that they seem to have flown a little below the radar – often times I will hear, “Hmmmm, an IPA from Leinenkugel, I wonder what that would be like?” As such, I decided to profile the three styles that we have currently in the store. Personally, I find each of them to be wonderful, bold, and hearty enough to stand their ground against many of the teriffic offerings that even our Michigan breweries produce. It is as though Leinenkugel has set a stake within their own brewery to simply say, “Yes, we make Summer Shandy, but our Baltic Porter will blow you halfway across the Adriatic sea!”

• Leinenkugel Big Eddy Wee Heavy, $2.99/12oz – The beer pours a deep mahogany, or tawny amber that is similar to a clear dark caramel. The head lasts for a brief moment, and quickly dissipates due to lower levels of carbonation. The nose in an intensely complex symphony of roasted nuts, smoke and dried fruits that are balanced with a mild presence of malt sweetness. Upon first sip, the palate is dominated by roasted and smoked malts that are encapsulated within a shell of intense toffee malt. Interestingly enough, the overall taste experience left myself, as well as other tasters, with the impression of banana. Overall, the ale fits well within the stylistic guidelines for gargantuan Scotch ales, and would be enjoyed with bread puddings, or even a hearty stew.
• Leinenkugel Big Eddy Imperial IPA, $2.99/12oz – Deep golden straw, reminiscent of rolling fields at twilight, this is how this ale appears from the depth of a pint glass. The head sits atop the beer as a thick cloud of well-coalesced bubbles that positively team with aromatic possibility. Copious amounts of citrus and piney resin jump into the nose as the glass is held closer; a mild note of malt helps to cut the onslaught of floral dominance. The taste reveals a heightened awareness of malt that is quickly overtaken by a showcase of intense hop flavors. The same citrus and pine notes are at play, but a nuance of fresh mowed grass can now be discovered. It is also important to note that the beer does not come off as overly bitter, due to a wonderfully struck balance with the malt. The finish leaves the drinker with just a touch of alcohol to remind us that the ale is 8.5%. I would love to enjoy this ale with grilled salmon, or any melange of mushrooms. 
• Leinenkugel Big Eddy Baltic Porter, $2.99/12oz – A void of color sits before me in the glass. The seeming pitch blackness is given small contrast when held to the light for blood red accents can be notes through this transluscent beauty. The head is a deep brown that offers notes of dark chocolate, raisins, and lightly burnt toast. The lager lays on the palate like silk, it simply slides along the tongue as it offers tastes of cocoa, caramel and toasted chestnuts. Each of these flavors has its own moment in the sun, and can be pinpointed distinctly due to the clean flavor profile of the lager yeast. As I drink this beer I am reminded of respites from a winter's day, sipping on hot chocolate while the fire crackles in the hearth. I would pair this lager with all and every manner of dessert, stroganoff, or chili. 

Hi Doug: Where are all the Pumpkin Beers?

With the whereabouts of previous advice columnist Hey Kevin currently unknown, Siciliano's staffer Doug Dorda has stepped in to pitch hit. For his first column, Doug tackles an age-old question, one, in fact, that Hey Kevin himself took a stab at during his short-lived heyday.

Hi Doug,

I can't help but notice the fact that fall beers come out earlier every year, why is that, and why is it that a lot of my favorite pumpkin beers are gone already?

-Zachary Binx

That's right, Zachary, according to our shelves at least, it has been fall for well over two months. Octoberfest and Pumpkin beer seem as though they arrive earlier and earlier each year, which is wonderful for those who hotly anticipate the season, and woeful for those that wait for nature to show the signs of change. For as these beers are easily found in August, by the time their intended season rears its head in a tumult of climactic activity, the beers that are meant to accompany them are dwindling rapidly in terms of availability.

However, this is not a trend that is unique to fall. Throughout the year, winter beers arrive in fall, spring beers arrive in winter, so on and so forth. It's easy to see how fall beers make the most startling impact fo the consumer though. “Pumpkin beer?! But it's only August!” In the last month of summer, this is an exclamation commonly heard around the retail universe of beer. It isn’t often you hear people scoff at the maibock that arrives late winter and isn’t meant to be enjoyed until spring. Similarly, fall beers often fit into the paradigm of winter seasonals and vice versa.

There are a few reasons that we see these beers as early as we do, but principal among them is a brewery's production schedule. Lets say that brewery “A” intends to release a pumpkin beer for the fall and an imperial stout for the winter on top of all the mainstay beers that they must produce in order to fill the demand of the general drinking populace. In order to do this, and have the beer available at the intended time, they will have to brew the beer well ahead of its desired season within gaps that exist in their year-round production line up. Generally, but not always, this means pumpkin beers are brewed as early as June each year (hardly a time of year that people seek out the spice-laden indulgence of fall).

Alright, so the beer has been brewed in June and is now taking up fermenter space that is generally used for one of its flagship beers. After it is packaged, it occupies space in their warehouse that is generally taken up by one of the flagship beers, as a result they will send the beer out to the distribution channels as soon as they can to make room for the rest of their product line. Once the beer is in the hands of a distributor, they will sell it as quickly as they can in order to continue to have room for all of the brands that normally occupy their warehouse. Boil it all down, and we end up with pumpkin beer on the shelves in August. The cycle continues for the next seasonal beer down the line, and so it goes, destined to become something as dutifully complained about as the aisle in Meijer that is selling Christmas decorations before thanksgiving dinner has even been served.

As to why many of them gone already, that is for an entirely different reason. One would think that beers such as the fall seasonals would be wholly undesired until the fall is actually here. In the case of the modern beer aficionado, however, this is not entirely true. Those seasoned ale-heads that have noticed the trend over the years have begun investing heavily in the season. Often times they will notice that the beers have arrived and purchase them a case at a time so that they are well provisioned throughout the season. Indeed I believe I saw a case of O'Fallon Pumpkin Ale leave the store on a near 90-degree day. It would seem then that the time to purchase these beers is the moment they land at our feet. Of all the pumpkin beers that were received at Siciliano's in the past months, only about 2 percent now remain.

Think of their arrivals like early season clearance sales in retail stores – buying winter clothes in summer is clearly the best choice for your pocket book. While you wont be getting the beer on sale if you purchase it early, you can guarantee your seasonal enjoyment of it. This author posits that “Pumpkin August” shares strong similarities with “black friday” in that you spend a lot all at once on something that will make someone very happy in the future. The best part is that you save yourself worry over availability in the long run, so that when the big days come, you can simply sit back and enjoy your forethought, and most importantly, a beverage.

Thanks for listening.

Doug