Beer Blotter

The tulip glass gains a greater meaning

Enjoyed on 12/31/2011

Brewery: Southampton Publick House

Location: Southampton, NY

Beer: Saison

Web: http://www.southamptonpublickhouse.com/Home.aspx

Presentation: 750 ml brown bottle, corked and caged.

ABV: 8.2%

Hops: N/A

Malt: N/A

Adjuncts: Lavender, Chamomile, Calendula, Rose Hips

From the Web:

Cuvèe des Fleurs roughly translates to “batch of the flowers”. This most distinctive ale is flavored with a variety of edible flowers. Aromatic and medicinal flowers such as Lavender, Chamomile, Calendula, Rose Hips and Hops (they’re flowers too!) are added to this special brew to impart a distinct aroma and flavor.

Beer Advocate: 91 (4.2)

Rate Beer: 99 (3.8)

Music Accompaniment: Pulse Emitter – Meditative Music

Timperial’s Notes:

Background.

When I lived back East I always had a deep respect for the ales of Southampton.  I think their saison was one of the very first that I deeply enjoyed.  When I started this column and planned to ask my sister to send me some East Coast saisons, Southampton’s was the first one I thought of.  Apparently I wasn’t specific enough with my request and this is what I received.  I didn’t even know this existed.  From what I gather, this “mistake” is going to be even better than that which I was seeking.

It also seems worth noting that I have felt stricken with a case of writers block lately.  Not necessarily in the traditional sense that I couldn’t find word but just that I haven’t been happy with those I’ve found.  One thing that I have always know about myself is that I have above average social chameleon abilities.  One such example is that when surrounded by stimulating, inspirational conversation/writings, I seem to adapt accordingly and, suddenly, I find myself not only speaking but thinking with greater intelligence.  Of course, that’s subjective, but my own judgement is often all I have.  With this in mind, I began to reread a book that is most inspirational to me.  I’ve quickly felt its effects.  May you be the judge.

Appearance.

After some muscle went into popping the cork I feared my jostling could spawn a gusher but there was little signs of life in the bottle once the air was introduced.  On the pour, again, the liveliness was minimal, but a pure white head did present itself on a medium pour.  The hue below the froth holds a most pleasant, soothing, hazy yellow-orange.  It gains a bit of clarity in direct light but looks most cloudy on the table, like a clairvoyant image of a hazed sunrise through a crystal ball.

Bubbles rise at a rate that seems disjointed given the head’s subtleties, but it makes the sight all the more magical and life filled.  Lacing is most minimal, and even a heavy swirling leaves only a splotch or two on the glass.

Odor.

You think the odor of this beer is relevant?  Flowers added?  Good gracious!  I don’t even know where to begin.  Maybe at flowers – there’s some here to be wafted.  A mighty zephyr of petaled perfume has virtually punched me with Spring rites.  I’ve gained entrance to the secret garden and the winds seem to be bellowed from the blossoms themselves.  I’m a slow-motion humming bird with beak probing this glassen tulip I hold…yeah, it sprouts poetry from me. I’m almost brought to tears.

To speak in beer review adjectives seems daunting.  What do I sense other than fantasy?  Mundane “floral” description withdrawn, we really must get creative.  Bubble gum is present, which is familiar enough to pose as yeast derivative.  Herbal tea thoughts spin me to jasmine, chamomile, rose hips…but only as association.  I can’t specifically place any of them.  I get a note of honeydew, maybe even honeysuckle, and no stretch to honeymoon with flower strewn upon bed spread.

There’s an underlying spiciness that is likely an agent of the most common flower within, that of lupulin.  From those holy cones does too come some earth and citrus.  Every new inhale wields its own initiation of wonderment.  There’s some sweet malt in there too.  I sense Pilsner, possibly Aromatic.  A bread like permeation, twisted up with garden gifts, peaks this radiating meditation to rosemary loaf or sage leaf sourdough.  And…incense, like aura of used record store peddling Marley posters and Joplin t-shirts.

Flavor.

Cuvee is surprisingly sweet.  It’s a nice change of pace, and who knows, maybe the brewer’s determined that the floral elements became too overwhelming in arid climates, dried to a more concentrated version of themselves.  That which blooms in the nose is not so easily tasted, and thus the yeast and hops regain primary dominance.  It’s decidedly spicy with a lot of white pepper present.  Still, herbal tea is not out of the mind by any stretch, which is also reassured with bearing on the near stillness of the fluid, or, lack of carbonation.  Despite a deficiency in tongue prickle, the fluid’s body remains bold with sugar density.

Booze is not a silent attribute but it’s easily over-looked with the cacophony of flavor/aroma elements.  I’m feeling it and flavor inspiration is surely striking attrition to writing sense.  Be it the ultimate downfall of combining my loves.

Aftertaste.

Post swallow, the coating sweetness tends to linger and satisfy.  Only the intensely unique flavors beg for another sip.  There is a faint bitterness present, but it’s mostly smooth malts and soft florals.  It’s almost like what the lasting aftertaste of a traditional British tea time with Earl Grey and lemon scones may be.  Wow, yeah that kind of strikes a chord.  You’ve got the citrus, herbs and earth that the tea brings coupled with the sweet, doughy maltiness and added citrus element of the lemon accent.  It’s distinguished.  A treat meant for royalty.

Summary.

I feel strongly that this beer is going to end up changing my life in some small but significant way.  The farmhouse ale brewed with farmhouse flowers.  I now know how beautifully it works.  My future brewery will make a unique version of this beer.  It’ll be estate grown.  It’ll be of the earth about the brewery.  It’ll be delicious, distinguished, and fit for royalty.

I raise my glass to 2012!

Shall we rendezvous on the board walk? Yes, we shall.

Enjoyed on 12/23/2011

Brewery: Left Coast Brewing Co. ||| Lakefront Brewery

Location: LCB – San Clemente, CA ||| LB – Milwaukee, WI

Beer: LCB – Saison ||| LB – Biere De Garde

Web: http://www.leftcoastbrewing.com/  |||  http://www.lakefrontbrewery.com/

Presentation: LCB – 22 oz brown bottle, capped ||| LB – 22 oz brown bottle, capped

ABV: LCB – 7.8% ||| LB – 7.2%

Hops: LCB  – Tettnanger, Mt. Hood ||| LB – Saaz, Mt. Hood

Malt: LCB – Some percentage of wheat, otherwise unknown ||| LB – 2-row, Munich, otherwise unknown

Adjuncts: LCB – Bitter orange peel ||| LB – N/A

From the Web:

LCB – There is nothing like summer, and no better way to celebrate than with an ice cold Board Walk Saison. The Saison yeast strain provides this beer with a pleasant citrus aroma. Our addition of bitter orange peel at the end of the boil gives it just the right hint of orange and a slight bitterness. Wheat malt balances out all of the flavors keeping this beer silky smooth.

Can’t you picture yourself enjoying a Board Walk at the end of the board walk? Cheers!

|||

LB – A Biere De Garde—literally, “a beer to keep”—is a style conceived in the hills of Northern France. This traditional farmhouse ale is brewed with a special French ale yeast, giving it a subtle, yet delightful ester fruitiness. Ample amounts of 2-row malt give Rendezvous a luscious, full body. Generous amounts of Munich malts are added for additional sweetness and give Rendezvous an impassioned red hue. Saaz and Mt. Hood hops are added for a mild bitterness and clean finish. Robust, smooth, and surprisingly refreshing, the effect on your palate is an intense, fleeting episode: a rendezvous.

Beer Advocate: N/A (3.71) ||| LB – 84 (3.71)

Rate Beer: LCB – 58 (3.11) ||| LB – 70 (3.19)

Music Accompaniment: Earth – Live

Timperial’s Notes:

Background.

I’ve collected a long list of saisons in preparation for this column.  This is problematic for me because I have very little time to write these days, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, and I want to write about them all, but saisons don’t keep very well.  This presents quite a predicament.  A quandary indeed.  Solution: tackle two at once and find the god damned time Tim!  Let’s hope that working 6 days a week at a brewery and a homebrew shop has made me a more educated writer.  Thanks for bearing with me/us.

I’d also like to take this time to briefly send endless props and respect to DSR.  Not only is he a proud 1/3 of Beer Blotter but he is my best friend and future business partner.  I sit here telling you that I’m crazy “busy” after posting my first article in over a month and he, with his newborn and his own multiple entrepreneurial duties, finds time to keep BB out of complete hibernation in my stead.  Next time you see him, if you know him, hug him.  I plan to (as he is currently in NYC as our Facebook indicates).

Appearance.

LCB -Pours a clear amberish gold color topped with a pure white, fluffy head.  Bubbles rise rapidly and keep the head in tact for some time.  The clarity is really a sight to see.  Some minimal lacing is left on the glass.

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LB – Pours a slightly cloudy red color that was very much not expected.  The head is off white and is sizable on the pour but settles to nothing but a ring where the beer, glass and air all meet.  No lacing is found.

Odor.

LCB – This beer smells much better than a 54 on rate beer would ever suggest.  It’s fantastic actually.  So complex in it’s esters and phenols.  For being a super clear beer, I’m amazed at how yeasty it smells.  There is a chemically type of heat coming off the top that reminds me of smelling beer right out of the fermenter.  I do not think that I would have picked out the fact that orange peel was added to this.  There is surely some fruitiness, but I get mostly spice in the nose.  It almost smells like caraway.  I’d suspect that the brewers allowed this to ferment on the low end of the yeast’s temperature range to pull phenols and balance the bitter orange.  It works exquisitely.  There is also a faint tartness that makes for a mighty authentic saison nose.

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LB – This beer does not smell like a saison in any way.  I guess that’s because it isn’t, technically, a saison.  A biere de garde is the saison of France, or the farmhouse beer of France, but if you read the BJCP style guideline, like I literally just did, this beer fits in very well.  It’s surprisingly malt forward with huge notes of Munich malt imbued biscuit flavors.  There is a distinct fruit quality to it that inspires thoughts of plum flesh.  If you told me this was an amber ale I’d say it was one of the best I’d ever smelled.

Flavor.

LCB – There is something about the flavor here that really reminds me of a starchy, under-ripe banana mixed with a tart, spicy guava or passion fruit.  The spices and fruits of the nose are equally present on the tongue, but it’s slightly easier to hash them out with the use of a second receptor source.  There’s a tartness that stimulates the back corners of the mouth, but it’s still subtle in the grand scheme of things.  The spice tastes more of white pepper than the aforementioned caraway.  There is an appropriate bitterness and it’s effect adds one more level of pull on the tongue, which is really asked to work overtime here.  This is an exercise that reminds me, yet again, how much I love saisons.

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LB – Is this a German amber lager?  I’m so confused right now.  OK, yes, it’s evident that this isn’t a normal, clean lagered beer.  It has yeasty nuances, but it’s challenging to really appreciate them in light of that other beer I’m drinking right now.  Honestly, this beer is a really nice change of pace.  I can’t say I’ve had anything like this in the recent past.  It’s exciting that it’s make in America’s Heartland.  Respect!  But oh, the flavor…it’s quite rich is a very toasted malt fashion.  There is some light caramelization that I can’t quite pinpoint the source of.  Possibly crystal malt, possibly melanoidin, possibly heavy boiling, possibly just an ass load of Munich.  I also can’t decide if that fruitiness is a yeast derivative or just a byproduct of the above malts.  Did they do a pure decoction?  Good lord I feel like I need to take a class.  Maybe I need a venture to Milwaukee.

Aftertaste.

LCB -This brew finished with a long lingering spice and a dryness that is all too familiar.  Well after the swallow, the flavor remains with very little degradation.  Highly impressive.

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LB – The overall richness of this beer allows for an aftertaste in stark contrast to the saison.  The malt flavors are unchanged and linger.  The mouth waters with sugarlust.  It’s like the sweet crusty exterior of a bran loaf.  Grain is in center stage and it’s shining in the spotlight.

Summary.

LCB -This is an excellent example of the style in my opinion.  The yeast is a work horse.  The added orange peel may be non-traditional but it just adds a balance and is in no way outlandish.  The color, clarity, ester and phenol production, dry finish…all pieces to the saison puzzle.  I want more.

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LB – I must admit, I was thrown off by this beer.  It is not at all what I expected – which is amazing!  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it, it’s just that I expected these two beers to be much more similar than they are.  Here, the yeast is very much not the workhorse.  The malts, or the mashing, or however the hell this beer is brewed is what defines it.  I can’t help but respect the brewers.

Alchemy.

As an added experiment, in light of my double fisting, I’ve decided to blend the two and see what sinister concoction remains after the smoke clears.  50/50.  Surprisingly, the lighter Board Walk’s yeast juggernaut stands up to the malt stronghold of Rendezvous.  Somehow, the combination allows for alcohol to rush out in retreat, as though the abv was not averaged but summed.  There is a slight smokiness (coincidence) that must be phenol meets biscuit.  The finish becomes insanely smooth – almost a perfect middle ground between the two.  The appearance is a fucking mess with a dank haze and a very unattractive hue, but I’d be OK drinking this blindly, before the smoke cleared.

A time capsule?

Enjoyed on 11/7/2011

Brewery: Iron Hill Brewery

Location: Wilmington, DE

Beer: Saison

Web: http://www.ironhillbrewery.com/

Presentation: 750 ml brown bottle, corked and caged.

ABV: 5.8%

Hops: N/A

Malt: N/A

Adjuncts: N/A

From the Web:

2008 GABF Gold Medal
A classic Belgian-style farmhouse ale; unfiltered, bright and light-bodied. The yeast gives an earthy, fruity and spicy character with a refreshing finish.
OG: 1.057; ABV: 5.5%

Beer Advocate: B+ (3.86)

Rate Beer: 86 (3.36)

Music Accompaniment: Alexander Turnquist – Hallway of Mirrors

Timperial’s Notes:

Background.

When I first really started putting deep thought into what my future brewpub would be like I naturally used what I knew as a starting point.  I began to mentally archive the places that I had visited, that had inspired me.  The most obvious of all, in those early days, was my home town brew pub.  The one that I had been to more than any other, by a long shot.  It’s called Iron Hill and it’s in West Chester, PA.  Iron Hill now has 8 or 9 pubs in PA and DE, but the WC locale was the second to open after Newark.  It’s a beautiful space.  Everything about it exemplifies class.  But, ultimately, it’s the beer that makes it what it is.  The beer is world fucking class.  And for the geekiest amongst us, the bottled reserves are straight up boner inducing (blame Hank Moody).  This be one of them, hardware in tow.

Appearance.

Iron Hill’s Saison pours a very pale, golden hue.  Without a doubt, on the low end of the SRM scale for the style.  The liquid is hazy but I can still faintly make out objects behind the glass.  The head that rises is… what else but a pure white?  It is built on extremely fine bubbles and though it’s girth fades quite quickly, it never wholly topples due to the heavy effervescence rising from the depths.  Must I verbalize, bottle conditioning is evident.  The beauty of the world’s finest hand crafted lace pales in comparison to the elegant caking left behind on the glass as the head and liquid recede.  A swirling of the tulip may erase the foamy art on it’s walls but it livens the froth immaculately, like a cauldron reaching boil.  Simply put, it’s a sight to see.

Odor.

With no surprise, what first penetrates my inhale is a waft most steeped in Belgian yeast.  Fruity esters stir my thoughts to meditative strolls between trees in the farmhouse orchard.  Green apple dominates early evaluations, which slowly lead into banana notes, quickly followed by citrus and herbal hop aromatics.  It’s clean behind the yeast and hops, with little malt derivatives.

I can smell the water, which has me slightly stymied.  This is a low gravity beer with a very simple grain bill.  The yeast and subtle hopping is all that this beer has to offer, but we must remember, those elements are what makes a true saison a saison.  There is a mineraly aspect to the nose, which could be from the yeast, but it’s not typical of a Belgian strain.  Whether it’s the water I smell or not, that’s what it makes me think of, and that’s kind of special in it’s own way.

Water is, after all, the largest component of beer.  Water is different in every corner of the planet.  Every beer you ever taste may have malts from Wisconsin or Germany or England, hops from Yakima or New York or Czech Republic, yeast from Oregon or San Diego, but always water from the earth about the brewery.  The water is what makes the beer most unique to that exact brewery.  It’s like the genetics of beer.  Sure, some breweries treat their water for effect, or because they have to, but stop ruining my romantic water story!

Flavor.

The flavor is quite simple actually.  The most notable aspect of the beer might be it’s mouthfeel, or lack there of.  The beer is very thin and watery.  There simply isn’t a lot of grain involved.  Is there anything other than pilsner malt involved?  Doubtful.  The bitterness, by comparison, is quite striking.  I can’t recall the last time I drank a saison and thought so significantly about the bitterness.  The balance is clearly leaning away from malty, but there is very little recognizable hop flavor either.

So we are left with the obvious flavor contributor, the almighty Belgian yeast.  Here, even that is subdued.  It’s much more lively in the nose.  I’d suspect that this beer fermented at a lowish temperature.   Lower than most, but possibly in a range not unlike a true, historical farmhouse ale temperature (brewed in the cold months for summer consumption, pre-refrigeration).  This makes me curious as to what strain they are using, as most require a higher temperature to complete fermentation.  I’ll save that bit of nerddom for the homebrew forums.

Ultimately, it’s grassy and earthy with very subtle lemon peel and apple skin notes.  Plain, white bread comes to mind, and the sensation of falling deep into a dark well.

Aftertaste.

This brew is as dry as a sleeve of Triscuits, thus… righteously to spec.  I’m left with the feeling that I was just tackled into the cold, hard ground during a game of Autumnal backyard football.  I’m slowly rising from the turf, spitting grass, dirt and blood.  The hop bitterness and highly attenuative yeast have put the smack down.

Am I refreshed?  Well, it’s not like I’m trying to chug chocolate milk after a hard day in the fields, but that bone dry finish makes it hard to not reach for some more permanent fix to my cottonmouth.

Summary.

This example may be the most pure American attempt at the most historical farmhouse ale style.  Think about it.  Would a beer that was brewed solely for the purpose of refreshing farm workers in the summer be full of specialty grains and highly aromatic hops?  Would it be built on anything other than a bare bones recipe?  It’s doubtful.  I may have just consumed a beverage nearing an exact replica of what Belgian farmers consumed many, many years ago.  The geek within that craves flavorville may be feeling uninspired, but the geek within that respects beer history allows each sip to act as a tool of transport.  I’m right there in the fields, and I thank Iron Hill for paving the way.

I'd frolic in this grove till the end of my days.

Enjoyed on 10/10/2011

Brewery: Cigar City Brewing

Location: Tampa, FL

Beer: Guava Grove Farmhouse Ale

Web: http://www.cigarcitybrewing.com/

Presentation: 750 ml brown bottle, capped.

ABV: 8%

Hops: N/A

Malt: N/A

Adjuncts: Pink Guava Puree

From the Web:

One of Tampa’s nicknames in addition to the Cigar City is the Big Guava. It earned the moniker from local newspaper columnist Steve Otto in the 1970′s. The nickname eventually gave rise to one of Ybor City’s most popular annual events, Guavaween. We brew Guava Grove in tribute to Tampa’s fruity nickname. Guava Grove is brewed with a French strain of Saison yeast and sees a secondary fermentation on pink guava puree. Slightly tart with a dry finish this is a refined beer that is perfect for sharing. Pairs well with a wide variety of cheeses, seafood and light fruit salads.

Beer Advocate: A- (4.03)

Rate Beer: 97 (3.65)

Music Accompaniment: A Winged Victory For The Sullen by A Winged Victory For The Sullen

Timperial’s Notes:

Background.

As soon as I decided to begin work on a saison column I began extensive research on what beers I should strive to procure and review.  After all, saisons are not all that common in the states, or so I thought.  Yes, there’s probably a very small percentage of saisons being made in comparison to pale ales or IPAs or porters or what-have-you but the more I researched the more I began to realize that, maybe, I wasn’t alone in my deep desire for liquefied farmhouse essence.

After reviewing several ‘best of’ lists and checking community run rating sites, I put together a list of wants.  I then presented said list to Sister in PA.  A very short time later, voila!  On my doorstep, farmhouse delights from the East.  This is one such delight.  Many thanks to Dana for the hook up!

Appearance.

The bottle copy warns the imbiber to “pour gently” due to the bottle conditioning and so I abide.  The carbonation is indeed quite lively and the moment that the fluid reaches the bottle neck in my tulip the head darts toward the rim in an attempt to escape the glass confines.  I know better and I halt the pour.  None is lost.

The head is white and goes through a series of changes in a short time.  At first the bubbles that form the head are of vastly varying sizes, with some being quite larger than any I’ve ever seen in a frothy crown.  As it settles slightly the bubbles become more uniform, but are still large.  Even the bubbles that are rising from the bottom of the glass are much larger than what I’m used to seeing.  They are also very numerous.  With more time, the white head is formed solely of bubbles equivalent to the size of those rising from the depths and it lingers for a very long time.  You can actually watch the head build from the bottom and decay from the top and it’s quite a mesmerizing display.  I’m not even buzzed yet!

The fluid itself is an orange tinged copper color and is quite hazy.  When held to the light it glows and shows off it’s breathy life.  Guava Grove would make a nice novelty lamp.  A beer drinkers lava lamp, if you will.

Odor.

The nose is highly inspiring.  It’s soft and fruity and screams hot Floridian summer.  The fruit is in the forefront and comes across almost like a marmalade.  It’s candy sweet and citrusy with a refreshing juiciness to it that makes me think of popping bits of tangerine pulp between my teeth.  I feel like I attempted to eat a super ripe, half-time at a youth soccer game style navel orange slice and half of the replenishing juices dripped down my chin.  I’m just covered in summery, sticky, tropical fruit.

Admittedly, guava isn’t something that I eat with any regularity.  I couldn’t even tell you the last time I smelled it.  To me, the fruit odors come across as a slurry of tropical possibilities.  I get papaya and mango and banana and the obvious orange (as seen above), but an over-the-top sweet orange, possibly like a mandarin or satsuma.  Do guavas taste like tropical fruit salad?  If so, I’ve really been missing out.  Never-the-less, the puree addition to this beer is a great success so far!

There is more than fruit at play, but it can be somewhat challenging to discover.  Knowing and loving that saison yeast like I do, it’s presence is quite clear to me, but I could easily imagine an untrained tongue stammering for proper style designation.  The earthy, farmhouse elements marry exquisitely with the fruit and actually succeed in bringing this beer to the darker season that we currently stand on the verge of.  If you allow your imagination to run wild, the natural, woodsy notes speak to decaying leaf matter and succeeds in skewing the fruit just slightly toward winter squash.  There is also a slight tang sensed in it all that is very intriguing and awakening.

From a grain perspective, there isn’t much more than a notion of crystal malt, like a brown sugar glaze on the brightly colored salad, but again, the earthy yeast integrates and transforms all elements involved.  Here, tobacco seems to be a byproduct.  May I allow this to send me down the path of burning that big old pile of raked leaves in the yard.

Flavor.

As the liquid finally enters my mouth, initial thoughts are of a bursting fruitiness with an earthen tartness.  “Bursting” as in both a wallop of sensory flavor and a shock of frothy effervescence.  Sugars are sensed with great height but the fruitiness is much more subdued here than in the nose.  I feel this is often true of fruits like guava or papaya, so I’m not shocked.  As my tongue recovers from the initial sugar rush, it becomes wildly evident that this is a saison, which feels ever so good to this over-worked soul.  This brew and this music is really doing good work to center my chi right now.  I feel soothing pulses radiating throughout my body.

I continue to feel inclined to make statements on the qualities put forth by the grains.  Here, there really isn’t much to speak on.  The grains sit idly in the background, existing as a foundation for the yeast and fruit to prove their worth.  Their fermentability does show worth in the production of a contemplative buzz, so there’s that.  The caramel grain note that I mentioned in the nose doesn’t seem to be detected on the tongue but the body has enough weight to it to keep me confident in my finding.

I’m struggling a little.  The flavor is not too far fetched with regard to the ingredients and the odor.

Aftertaste.

The aftertaste is mighty peculiar in that it’s in stark contrast to much that is initially perceived in the flavor.  Here, the fruitiness is a distant memory and what I deem to be the underlying beer is revealed.  Toasted sesame seeds, rustic bread and fruit core or seed/stone matter are all present.  Things dry out quite significantly, as is tried and true of the style and the ultimate contradiction in my love of it.  Minutes later, the flavors continue to evolve.  Slowly, the guava comes back again and the rich, caramelized grainy sweetness peaks.  There is also an intense, almost uncomfortable acidity that swells up in the recesses of the throat.  The complexity is most worthy.

Summary.

This is a regular release for Cigar City – a constant.  That’s impressive to me.  I love them for it.  I’ve said many times that CCB is one of the most exciting breweries in America and it has been and continues to be a inspiration to me.  I’ve had some beer nerd friends tell me to skip Guava Grove.  I chose to not heed that warning because of Saison Liaison and I’m very, very happy that I did.  This beer is, simply put, fun.  It’s well made, unique, geographically significant, seasonally symbolic, and just plain delicious.

Of course, in the beer world, it’s easy to feel as though others have it better than you – that the grass is always greener.  How many times did I say, for example, that if Firestone Walker distributed in the Seattle market that I’d drink it on a very regular basis.  Now that they do, and have for some time now, I really don’t.  Still, I’m unafraid to say that I’d drink this beer regularly if I had access to it.  Thank you for being fun CCB!

Spooky Good

***Notes of a Beer Nerd is a column written by resident cellar dwelling mammal, Timperial Stout. Feel free to e-mail him at timperial@beerblotter.com with any questions, concerns or comments***

Enjoyed on 9/25/2011

Brewery: New Belgium Brewing

Location: Fort Collins, CO

Beer: Kick

Web: http://www.newbelgium.com/

Presentation: 22oz. – Blown Glass Bottle – Capped.

Vintage: 2011

Style: Sour Pumpkin Ale

Barrel: Blended with beer aged on oak

ABV: 8.5%

IBU: 14

Hops: Target

Malt: Pale, Carapils

Vessel: Tulip

Recommended Serving Temp: 50 degrees

Commercial Description:

New Belgium and Elysian are together again with Kick, a rich and tart pumpkin cranberry ale blended with wood-aged beer for a uniquely complex harvest season sour. The russet and orange of autumn shimmer through a slight haze like sunlight through the smoke from burning leaves. The taste and texture of pumpkin give way to the refreshing tang of cranberries and critters, satisfying and exciting with each swallow, finishing with an urge for more.

Kim brought sour from New Belgium; Dick brought pumpkin from Elysian. You’ll get a Kick out of their collaboration.

Food Pairings: Turkey, Salad, Pie

Cheese Pairings: Brie, Gouda

Music Pairing: Bvdub – I Remember (Translation of moerketid)

Beer Advocate: B+ (3.78)

Rate Beer: 94 (3.51)

From Timperial Stout:

If you read my last NoaBN post you know that I regretfully shat on a New Belgium beer.  I have an outrageous amount of respect and love for NBB and their staff.  I figured that I would write a review of their other very new edition to the Lips of Faith series because it’s fucking amazing and maybe, through doing so, I’d feel a bit better about myself (even though Todd already said that he liked my review despite it’s less that glowing result).  So here it is.  Get this beer while you can.  You will not regret it.

Also, oddly, it came to my attention earlier today that one For Whom the Beer Toales was enjoying this very beer today as well from her home in the windy city.  Even more strange, we both, almost simultaneously, suggested that we collaborate on the review.  The funny thing about that is that Ms. Erin Toale is an expert at succinctness, where I am very, very much not (as I’m sure you are painfully aware).  So, with that being said, I first offer you her thoughts, and then I offer mine in the fashion that you have come to know.  As a quick side note, amidst all of this strange phenomenon, Erin and I made plans to formulate some sort of recurring column in which we both drink the same beers at the same time (in our respective cities) and review them at the same time as we progressively slip deeper into an inebriated state.  I see time stamps and ridiculous commentary being signatures of this project.  Something to look forward to perhaps.

For Whom the Beer Toales: Avoiding Responsibility or “What Was I Thinking?” (That Time My Fiancé Went to Oktoberfest Without Me and I Exacted Revenge by Drinking Too Much) 

Have you ever been so hungover that your tongue hurts? It just feels like this lump of sad, foreign matter in your mouth? That’s where I am, today, folks. I woke up this morning (afternoon) and I knew there was only one way to make it through the day. Keep drinking.

I went to Binnys last week to get some Autumnal brews. Fall is, by far, my favorite season for beers. Maple! Pumpkin! Spices! Hoodies! (not a flavor, but still relevant.) On that note: KICK! (Aside, what the crap New Belgium has such an amazing website! Our site runs on windpower… ADORABLE.)

I am SUCH a New Belgium fanboy. Environmentally friendly, female CEO, FUCKING AMAZING BEER!! I LOVE YOU NB! This latest collaboration with Elysian is described as a session sour. I couldn’t have said it better myself. I  am picky about sours – I require moderation of funk. (I get heartburn, ok?) Kick is fruity in the front with a pleasant sour after-pucker and not overly sweet. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon on the couch with dogs and Clash of Kings. What, jealous?

Back to Timperial:

Appearance.

I had a sense that the “wild” nature of this beer would cause it to be highly carbonated but a soft pour evoked a not all that abnormal rise in foam.  That foam ended up being stark white and consisted of tightly packed, small bubbles with some larger blow-outs resting on top.  As the head settled, some very impressive lacing was left on the inside of the glass.  The use of Carapils seems to have paid dividends.  The white crown is evidently content existing as a ring and wisp atop the brew and is regularly fed by an impressive precipitation of carbon dioxide escaping from the lower recesses of the glass.  It’s like watching an autumnal rain shower while hanging upside down on a hammock.  I’m comfy.

The fluid itself is a brightly glowing, orange tinged amber and when held to the light it appears quite clear.  From all outward appearances, this beer has no lack of sex appeal.  Like a bird of paradise, it has flaunted it’s feathers and I have surrendered to it’s brilliance.

Odor.

The head rise may not have indicated a principle wildness but the scent certainly does.  A tart, sourness can be perceived well before the nose reaches the rim of the glass.  It’s potent.  It has a very wood aged and Brett spiked notion to it from my perspective.  There is a lot of earthiness involved.  Damp log is the best way that I can think to describe that particular aspect of the nose.  But there is so much more.

The scent seemed to just fire out of the glass and penetrate my nose deeply.  There is an effervescence that inspires thoughts of crystalline citrus candy shards propelled from a canon.  I know that it’s cranberry at play but I feel as though it is sensed as being more like blood orange.  Both acidity and perfectly ripened sweetness mingle with the oak and it’s like discovering a wood hewn cornucopia full of fruity desires after being island stranded for far too long without food.  Near elation.

It takes some concentration to find the subtle squash within all the potency of jarring tartness and stunning fruitiness, but it can be unearthed.  Obviously, this beer is not like many other beers.  As such, the phenolics come in abnormal forms.  It is very hard to tell where the spiciness originates.  Is it the wild yeasts, the sour fruit…pumpkin spice?  This may just be the true brilliance of this recipe.

Mouthfeel.

Though it would be insane of me to dub this the best part of the beer, it’s a mandatory mention that the mouthfeel of Kick is absolutely world class. It’s crazy smooth but not thick and there is plenty of bubbly.  It coats the mouth with a protective film that hugs you in all the right places and spurs you just enough to elicit a stimulation, not a coma coaxing of the pleasure receptors.  It’s just right and I want it to stay almost more than I want it to go down and warm my innards.

Flavor.

I find it a challenge to describe the flavor of a sour beer.  In most cases, it can be described as sour and that’s about it.  I get most of the fruit or graininess (or whatever the case may be) from sours in the aftertaste.  This makes sense to me because tartness has a tendency to seize up the tongue.  It’s almost like a paralyzing effect is incited after the immediate knee jerk reaction of intense puckering.  Tartness causes involuntary reactions on a small scale.  This is where a lot of the pleasure comes from, I think, when dealing with this style.  It allows us to toy with a part of our body that is rarely toyed with.  We could snack on a bag of sour patch kids, but who wants to deal with the tongue and mouth abrasions that coincide with that venture?  Here, our only after effect is a calming buzz.

Still, I must make an attempt.  Honestly, the cranberry taste really does come through quite strongly.  It’s a flavor packed fruit.  Cranberry juice, straight up, is probably one of the most intense juices there is.  It’s a bold move to use it in beer, but often bold is better.  There is a good portion of wood flavor sensed as well, which grounds it a bit and allows me to keep in mind that this is a beer I’m consuming, not a juice.  It must also be noted that the overall impression is not simply “sour”, which is more of a feeling than a flavor, but funky.  Without the funk, and the aforementioned wood, this could be a carbonated fruit juice.

That isn’t to say that the grains are absent from the flavor, but they are so simple in this recipe that they’re easy to miss if you don’t think about them.  Imagine the recipe formulation process.  Any time that the grain bill consists of pale malt (base malt that is a requirement in pretty much all non-gluten free beers) and a body building grain (Carapils, flaked grains, wheat, etc.) and nothing else, you know that the “grainy” aspect of the beer is pretty much irrelevant to the brewer.  This beer is not at all about the grain, and that’s fine.

Aftertaste.

I wouldn’t necessarily say that this is where Kick shines brightest, but from a review perspective, this is a definitive area.  The tartness, which makes up a large portion of what makes this beer this beer, has a chance to subside a bit and therefore makes room for other elements to be revealed.  Those elements are very enjoyable, possibly more so than the shroud that prefaces them.  This fact alone is (and this time I’m sure) the best part about Kick.  It’s like 2 beers in 1.  It’s complexity to the up most.

Pumpkin is still sparse but here it is most relevant.  The grains come through most here too, and they have an almost vanilla like flavor.  If you’ve never smelled uncrushed Carapils, you might think I’m crazy for saying that, or you might think that I’m mistaking grain for oak.  You might be right about the oak part but I swear that Carapils has a vanilla odor.

The cranberry is so unimaginably vivid in the aftertaste.  To paraphrase The DSR, I feel like I’m inside of a cranberry’s hoo-hoo right now.  I feel like a giant cran-creature consumed me and I’m swimming in it’s stomach acids.  It kind of burns a little, but I already alluded to the extremeness of this experience.  It’s invigorating.  It’s like romanticizing self abuse a la Bukowski or Hunter S. Thompson, but on a minuscule level that won’t send you spiraling into oblivion.  Why oh why must this bottle not be bottomless?

Summation.

A sour pumpkin ale.  I’m no historian so I can’t claim to know to whom to credit the style with but I’m very much inclined to point at Sir Dick Cantwell, the ultimate purveyor of all things pumpkin beer.  Others, like Allagash and Jolly Pumpkin, have experimented with the style and have had great success.  Possibly, they are to honor.  Never-the-less, this all works brilliantly together and needs to be reproduced on a much more prolific level.

It seems that, due to the release date, bottle artwork, and pumpkin theme, this beer was likely created with thoughts of pie and cranberry sauce in mind.  Thanksgiving imagery.  That makes a lot of sense, but if that truly was the inspiration, that may be the only point in which Kick fails.  To me, this is a cranberry sour that could have been released at any time of the year.  The pumpkin is deeply hidden and the grain bill brings nothing to what could have been a pie crust kicker (no pun intended).  Really, that’s just me sharing a random though.  I am always trying to be in the heads of brewers, because I want to be one one day.

The true summation here is that this beer is brilliant.  I absolutely love it from head to toe, or crown to empty glass.  It’s revolutionary in fact, and I hope it inspires brewers the world over.

If you like New Belgium’s Kick, you should try…

Allagash’s Goelschip; Jolly Pumpkin’s La Parcela; Elysian’s Mr. Yuck Sour Pumpkin Ale

Disclaimer: This beer was gifted to us from New Belgium staff but solely as a personal gift and with no expectation of a review.