Should Taste Test be taken to task?

Logos the property of D Magazine and Lakewood Brewing Company, respectively.

Over the last few days, one of the hot topics on social media has been the latest installment of something called "Taste Test Thursday", a weekly review-like column put out by D Magazine. It focuses on various foods and beverages found locally and, naturally, every so often they round up a number of beers and give them the once over. In the past, subjects covered have included Dallas IPAs, holiday beers, pumpkin beers and what some might consider to be off-the-wall offerings.

This week the topic was session IPAs, and low and behold Lakewood Brewing Company took them to task for something that was said. Certain there must have been some sort of misunderstanding, I decided to peruse some past articles to try and understand their process. And, I'll tell you, for the life of me I can't understand why everyone is so upset. To begin with, they go out of their way to publish the opinions of fair and impartial jurors.

"I don't like IPAs..." and "...I don't drink IPAs." (from "TTT: Dallas Beer - IPA Edition")

"I don't customarily drink your so-called session beers..." (from "TTT: Dallas Session IPAs")

"First, before I begin, let me say that I hate spiced beer and fruit-flavored
beer and gourd-infused beer." (from "TTT: Pumpkin Beer")

Not only that, they obviously take great care to ensure that they sample the products in the proper order while pausing to cleanse their palates after each beer.

"Taste buds are a little shot from the last one." (from "TTT: Weird Beers")

"I don't taste any pumpkin in this one. Perhaps that's because

my palate is already fried." (from "TTT: Pumpkin Beer")

Oh, and they always use appropriate glassware.

"Not much of a nose, or maybe it's overpowered by this cup's paper smell." (from "TTT: Weird Beers")

Furthermore, those selected for the panels are all highly-qualified experts, each well-versed in the finer points of the styles they've been chosen to judge.

"I expect my IPAs to be a little bit cloudy." (from "TTT: Dallas Session IPAs")

"This one has a very aggressive citrus taste, one that's not usually

associated with IPAs." (from "TTT: Dallas Session IPAs")

Comments such as these being a clear indication that the BJCP needs to do a comprehensive update of the American IPA style guidelines. I mean, the excerpts that follow must surely be incorrect.

Appearance: "Should be clear, although unfiltered dry-hopped versions may be a bit hazy."

Flavor: "Hop flavor is medium to very high, and should reflect an American or New World
hop character, such as citrus, floral, pine, resinous, spicy, tropical fruit, stone fruit, berry, melon, etc."

As for brewers, I can't imagine that they don't appreciate the criticism offered, since it's constructive and written in complete, coherent sentences.

"This does nothing for more." (from "TTT: Weird Beers")

"Yeasty overpowers pump sweetness." (from "TTT: Pumpkin Beer")

Plus, they can gain valuable insight into the impact of any specialty ingredients used in the creation of a recipe from tasting notes that are often powerfully evocative.

"...its malty backbone is tapping on my wine cellars." (from "TTT: Holiday Beer")

"Smells like...the age of a mildew whisper." (from "TTT: Holiday Beer")

"Nut skin nose." (from "TTT: Weird Beers")

Indeed, given all of that, it's quite apparent that the opinions of D Magazine staffers are ones to be valued when it comes to the objective, informed and unbiased evaluation of craft beer. I, for one, plan to tune in each and every week to further my own beer-drinking education. Ten years of BJCP certification be damned! In the meantime, though, one pearl of wisdom from above has inspired me to go out and scour the shelves in search of a bottle of Undead Party Crasher from Clown Shoes. Why, you ask? Because nothing says nom nom nom like a nut skin nose.

Cheers!

For some brewers, all is not equal when it comes to the equinox

Too early for a beer by the fire?

Image credit:  Gavin Mills, SXC

It seems a simple concept. Craft a beer around on the moods and flavors of a particular time of year, design an appropriately themed packaging motif and release it to the public as a seasonal beer. In colder months focus on darker, heavier brews with a touch more strength, while adding bit of spice to some for a more holiday feel. As the frost fades, turn to something lighter, easy to drink and more refreshing.

There are plentiful examples of how this ideology is well-executed it comes to the beers themselves, as many are certainly in tune with the seasons they represent. However, the timing of such releases is getting more and more puzzling. For me, something gets lost when I can buy a fall fest beer in July, a pumpkin beer in August, or a Christmas ale on the way home from my local Oktoberfest celebration (many of which happen in September). Worse yet, what are we to think of "harvest" ales that come out before the current year's actual harvest?

Call me crazy, but in my mind there is an inherent disconnect in releasing a beer in July and referring to it as a "fall seasonal". The last time I checked the autumnal equinox doesn't even happen until the end of September. How am I expected to enjoy a fall brew in the spirit in which it was created with the thermometer hovering about the century mark?

It is understandable to give consumers a bit of lead time, but making seasonals available as much as three months beforehand seems a bit much. We are inundated with the idea that we should enjoy our craft beers at the peak of freshness, but what happens if I purchase a spring ale in early January only to hold off on enjoying it until shortly after the first day of spring? Suddenly, April Fool's Day has a whole new meaning.

Keep in mind that although this commentary references fall, similar anomalies occur throughout the year. In this case, autumn's pending arrival (in a mere 53 days) just represents a convenient foundation on which to bring about the point. Perhaps, like most North Texans, I'm just exhausted from the heat and am simply in need of appropriate refreshment. August is only a day away, which means the first batch of winter brews are probably just around the corner. Sounds like just the thing for a relaxing afternoon of backyard sun worship, at least until what's left of my lawn spontaneously combusts.

*Originally published on Examiner.com

Texas beer: Inside the New Yorker's numbers

Image credit:  The New Yorker (left graphic)

Late last week, the New Yorker published an article as part of their regular "Idea of the Week" series entitled "Mapping the Rise of Craft Beer".  Accompanying the story is an interactive map which provides a statistical look into how states compare to the rest of the nation in the categories of total breweries, annual production, production growth and breweries per capita.

Judging by comments associated with shares on my social media feed, many are focusing on the fact that Texas now ranks 8th in the country when it comes to total breweries.  I have to wonder, though, what this number really means.  Texas is a big state with a large population, so doesn't it stand to reason that we would have a lot of breweries?  Consider the following:  nine of the ten most populous states in America are among the top thirteen when it comes to the total number of breweries.  That's a pretty strong correlation.  I imagine these states have a lot of gas stations and grocery stores, too.

This raises an interesting question.  When gauging the health of the craft beer industry which is a better indicator, more breweries or more beer?  I would argue the latter.  Just because a new brewery opens, it doesn't mean that Texans are drinking more beer.  All it means is someone thinks they can build a better mousetrap.  Even if they can, it won't amount to much if there isn't anybody beating a path to their door.

So, what about more beer?  Things get a little trickier here, since the graphic shows that Texas ranks seventh in annual production.  That's all well and good, but nine of the top ten states with the most breweries are also among the top twelve in terms of total production.   Having more breweries translates into producing more beer, which isn't terribly surprising.  You may open a brewery, thereby increasing production in the state, but demand can't be factored in until someone has actually tried your product to know if they want to drink it again.

Is this a case of more doesn't always mean better?  A high ranking in the number of breweries and total production certainly looks good on paper, but take into account population density and I'm not sure it isn't just the natural order of things.

What now?  Well, I still think more beer is the right answer, albeit with a qualifier.  This brings us to production growth.  Out of the four metrics showcased above, change in production would seem to be the most telling when it comes to deciding whether or not consumers are drinking more beer.  Generally, higher demand for an established product tends to drive increased production.  It's more beer, just in a different context, and it may provide a clearer insight into how things are going in your local market.  In this category Texas ranks 34th, with a year-to-year increase of 14.21%.  On the surface this growth rate actually looks pretty good, but lofty numbers in other states suggest it could be better.  Here again, though, I'm not sure how much the ranking matters.  Personally, I'd be happy seeing long-term sustainable growth regardless of where it puts Texas on the national stage.

Where oh where has my little beer gone?

Image credit: Real Ale Brewing Company

I've decided what, or rather who I'm going to be for Halloween.

Clara Peller.

Who is Clara Peller, you ask? She's that crotchety old lady who starred in one of Wendy's most memorable advertising campaigns. The only difference is, my tagline won't be "Where's the beef?," it'll be "Where's the beer?"

I made this decision because I seem to be spending a lot of time lately trying to figure out why my beer doesn't taste like beer. Of course, we all know "beer" isn't a flavor, but rather a celebration of it. At least, that's been the company line for craft brewers since the late 1970s. Yet, we seem to be evolving to a place where specialty ingredients are taking hold of the beers we drink. It's gotten to the point where there are times I wonder if I'm drinking beer or bouillabaisse (well, minus the fish).

Let's get one thing straight. I'm all for moving beyond the beer "starter kit" (i.e. barley, hops, water and yeast) to more exotic ingredients. It's only natural to want to push the boundaries of beer as we know it in an effort to create more unique and flavorful brews. Just do it in moderation. Paraphrasing the BJCP style guidelines, specialty ingredients should be harmonious with the beer's other components while not totally overpowering them.

Take, for example, coffee beers. There are some outstanding examples of how beers like this should be brewed: Real Ale Coffee Porter, Lagunitas Cappuccino Stout and Great Divide Espresso Oak Aged Yeti. Each infuses just enough coffee to compliment the roast and dark chocolate flavors contributed by the choice of grain. At the other end of the spectrum are the beers that taste like coffee. Not malt, not hops, just coffee. If I want coffee I know where to go, and it's not to a brewery. While the majority of Americans may live 10 miles from a brewery, virtually everyone lives within 10 seconds of a Starbucks. Go there to get your mug o' Joe to go. Beer shouldn't taste like coffee. Beer should taste like beer.

Or, how about these trending Mexican, Mayan or Mole stouts? Honestly, I've never been more bewildered by a beer style. I say this not because I am put off by the flavor, for the combination of cinnamon, bittersweet cocoa and varying blends of ancho, guajillo or chipotle peppers is bold, slightly aggressive and quite tasty. The problem is, nearly every one of these brews I've tried is so exceptionally light in body it's like drinking spiced water. Is it supposed to drink like a cold version of a hot toddy? Here's an idea, use it as a marinade. That way, you can soak some barley and hops in it and make it into a beer.

Look, there's no harm in raiding the pantry in search of new flavors, but throwing a blanket of spice over a hastily made bed of barley and hops is the first step in making a bad beer. Really, all you have to do is ask yourself one question. Do you want to make beer, or just another beverage? Beer should have balance. Beer should have body. Simply put, beer should be beer.

When to get the "good": Real Ale Coffee Porter and Lagunitas Cappuccino Stout are fall seasonals, while Great Divide Oak Aged Espresso Yeti is a late winter release.

*Originally published on Examiner.com.