• Beer Fridge
  • Home
    • December, 1919
  • Me?

Literature and Libation

Menu

  • How To
  • Libation
  • Literature
  • Other
  • Writing
  • Join 14,889 other followers

Browsing Tags ale

10 Terms to Boost Your Beer Vocabulary that Aren’t Made Up Bullshit

June 10, 2015 · by Oliver Gray

I hate that I have to write this, but someone on the internet is wrong, and wrong about something I’m passionate about. There’s little in life that irks my inner pedant as much as the lassiez faire spreading of misinformation.

An article from “Visit Tri-Valley” (a promotional website for a location but 45 miles from the iconic Anchor Steam Brewery) bounces around the intertubes as we speak, claiming to be packed with information to improve your fermented vernacular.

Great! Education is paramount, and I’ll always support it…

…except when it’s grossly misleading and full of information that might make someone look foolish.

Look, I get it. Beer. Beer!

It’s tasty and accessible to everyone and you wanna get in on this trend. No one wants to feel bad when they order a pint in the pursuit of enjoyment, and I want the beer world to be inclusive and friendly, which means demystifying the jargon and industry talk. Admirable goal, if done correctly.

So do yourself a favor; don’t read the bizarre made up crap and clearly not fact-checked mistakes in that other article. Read (and share) this one instead. I put my beer nerd reputation on the line to vouch for its accuracy:

1. ABV – This acronym stands for Alcohol By Volume. As might be obvious, it denotes the relative amount of alcohol in the beer. Listed as a percentage, this number is the result of a simple calculation between the amount of sugar in the liquid before fermentation (Original Gravity or OG) and the amount of sugar in the liquid after fermentation (Final Gravity or FG). The range of ABV can swing wildly based on style; Berliner Weisse for example can clock in at ~3%, while barleywines can finish at 12% or higher. The ABV is dependent on the amount of sugar in the beer (more sugar = higher ABV). The current trends show that Americans prefer (or at least highly rate) higher alcohol beers.

2. Ale – Ale is one of the two overall types of beer. An ale is brewed “warm” (around 65-75°F) using yeast that typically remains on the top of the beer while it ferments. Ales brew quickly, and can be ready to drink in only a few weeks. Many popular styles fall under the ale category, including pale ale, IPA, porter, and stout. Not all ales are dark, pale ales and IPAs for example, can be as pale as pilsner.

3. Lager – Lager is the other of the two types of beer. Unlike ale, lager is brewed “cold” (45 to 55 °F), using a yeast that tends to remain in the middle or on the bottom of the beer during fermentation. The word lager means “storage” in German, and after fermentation, this beer is held in cold storage for several weeks to allow it to settle and clarify. Lagers require more time and equipment to brew, which is why many new breweries stick to ales. Most well-known American beers are lagers, including Bud Light, Miller High Life, and Coors. Styles of lager include pilsner, bock, helles, and dunkel. Like ales, lagers aren’t typecast as a single color either; many are very dark, like the delicious German Schwartzbier (black beer).

4. Hops – These pungent, sticky, green cones are the flowers of female hop plants (a horticultural cousin to marijuana). They produce lupulin (and other compounds), and grow on tall, broad-leafed bines (not vines) that spiral around trellises or other supports. They can grow very tall; upwards of 20 feet by the end of the season. They’re used for two main things in beer: bitterness and aroma. They also serve to balance out the sweetness of the malt.

5. Malt – “To malt” is a verb that describes the process of germinating and roasting a starch like barley or wheat. When a brewer says malt, they are referring to malted barley. Most modern beers are brewed with “base malts” that provide most of the sugar for the yeast to eat, which are then supplemented by specialty malts (like roasted barley or black malt, which gives porters and stouts their dark color). Malt has been called the “soul of beer,” and it provides many of the flavors and all of the color. The phrase “malt” is also used in relation to whiskey: “single malt” is a type of scotch whiskey that is made from malted barley, so don’t order a single malt and expect to receive a beer 🙂

6. IBUs – This acronym stands for International Bitterness Units. The scale goes from 0 (no bitterness) to 100 (intensely bitter). While technically a beer could be calculated higher than 100 IBUs during brewing, 100 remains the soluble maximum (and probably the most a human tongue could discern). Many brewers list IBUs so that the drinker will have a sense of how bitter the beer is. For example: a 35 IBU IPA might be more balanced with a touch of sweetness, while an 85 IBU IPA would be sharp and very bitter.

7. IPA – This acronym stands for “India Pale Ale.” A long-standing myth encircles the lore of this style, but it turns out it wasn’t a beer specifically brewed (or hopped) to survive a trip to India, a brewer named Hodgson just got lucky, which started a trend. IPA is currently the sweetheart of American “craft” beer, making up a very large percentage of sales across the entire country. They can be brewed multiple ways (high ABV double IPAs or low ABV session IPAs) but all retain one singular characteristic: an abundance of hops. American IPAs lean heavily on hop aromas as part of their flavor profile, and stand in sharp juxtaposition to the traditional American light lagers.

8. Notes – This was in the original article but it’s not an important beer term. You might hear someone say “this has citrus notes” but all they’re saying is “I smell or taste mild citrus in the hops of this beer.” Notes can also mean the scribbles some people write down while tasting a beer, which they then typically post to Beer Advocate or Rate Beer without editing.

9. Pilsner – This is a type of crisp, pale lager that originates from the city of Plzeň in the Czech Republic. The style tends to be very refreshing, and lowish in alcohol (4.5-5%). Many large scale American breweries brew “pilsner-style” beers, which while spiritually similar, are not quite the same as their European brethren. Two well known, large scale pilsners are Pilsner Urquell and Stella Artois, but modern American examples include Victory Prima Pils, Great Divide Nomad, or Sam Adams Noble Pils.

10. Stout – Almost antithetical to the pilsner is the stout, a dark (sometimes entirely black and opaque) ale that originates from Northern Europe (probably the British isles). Originally, stout was a stronger and more robust version of a porter (a dark beer consumed enmass by sailors in port at London in the 1700s). Now, it is a broad style that can range from traditional lower ABV dry Irish stout (think Guinness), to decadent high ABV Russian Imperial Stouts (like North Coast’s Old Rasputin). Contrary to popular belief, stouts are no “heavier” than any other beer, and the dark color has nothing to do with their perceived weight.

(For the record, l think the vast majority of listicles are parasitic depravities gorging on the fat underbelly of the internet, but here I am writing one, so whatever don’t judge me I’m trying to help)

573

Review: Newcastle Werewolf

October 24, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

Halloween is synonymous with disguise. We’ve gone all hyper-materialistic in the good ole’ US and as a result, can pretty much find (or easily make) any costume.

Seriously, anything. Video game characters, 1890s Railroad Tycoons, types of trees, types of lunchmeat, you name it. The scary part is, there is almost always a sexy variant as well (See: Sexy Bacon!).

Why should beer be excluded? Who said that around Halloween, our favorite brews can’t don label-masks and try to fool us into believing they are something else? Why can’t they have some fun and go house-to-house, inebriating people under the pretense of being something strange, exotic, perhaps even scary?

This is what the Caledonian Brewery Company has done; dressed up their flagship brown ale as a wolf-man. He’s out for blood, sporting faux-scratches across the label to maybe scare the drinker into assuming this beer is somehow dangerous.

It’s not.

In fact, I couldn’t really tell with any certainty that this wasn’t just regular Newcastle Brown Ale in a different bottle. It claims to be a “blood red ale” which was more like a “burnt sienna ale” or red food coloring mixed with the natural brown of the malts.

But when the aftertaste settles in, and you start to wonder who is under the mask. This Irish Red homage is .2% ABV lower than the original, has a nice hint of rye and caramel, and it is less sweet than the Scottish brewed Newcy. It has a few nuances that make me feel like there was a lot of attention given to the styling and design of the costume, but I still can’t help but wonder that when the trick-or-treating is over, when the costume comes off, it will be a bright yellow and blue label sorting through his hoard of candy on the living room floor.

And maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Werewolf marks one of a few different attempts for Newcastle to reboot its brand after a few years of declining quality, being called watery and weak in comparison to other major British ales. I will note that I had fallen out of love with the beer after a long-lasting affair in college; probably due to the influx of powerful, hop-heavy beers that I started drinking once I had a steady income.

But from a marketing standpoint, I’m intrigued. All three variations I’ve tried (Founder’s Ale, Summer Ale, and now, Werewolf) have been stylistic variations on the main, no frills taste of the original brown ale, with just enough similarity to keep them consistent to the brand. Most American craft brewing offers completely different styles with completely different flavors (thinks Raison D’etre vs. Shelter Pale) making each beer stand alone, only connected by the name and logo on the bottle.

The amazing part is, they still remain specialized and unique, setting them apart from other brands who have attempted the same thing over the years (Bud Light Lime/Platinum, I’m looking at you) to the point where it actually restores some of my faith in the beer.

Newcastle has proven it isn’t just playing dress up. It’s inventing new identities to try new things. This Halloween, don’t be surprised if you see the classic yellow star dressed up like a vampire. It might be a very clever marketing ploy.

8 out of 10.

 

The beer triune: pint glass, airlock, bottle.

Review: Flying Dog Tire Bite Golden Ale

May 4, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

I’ve played a lot of soccer in my twenty-six years. I’ve run countless miles across green fields, rattled hundreds of goal posts, accumulated untold numbers of yellow cards, and kicked an astronomical number of balls. I have no idea how many goals I’ve scored, how many pairs of cleats I’ve worn until the stitching decayed to nothing, or how many miles my parents drove to deliver me to soccerplexes all across the country.

I got to thinking; how many other statistics have flown by me unnoticed, unrecorded? How many words have I read in my life? How many pennies have I accidentally thrown away? How many times have I said the word “repugnant?” How many people have I made laugh? How many people have I made cry?

More importantly, how many ounces of beer have I consumed!?

When I find a genie in a bottle, one of my wishes will be to have the ability to instantly, accurately recall any statistic from my life. It’d be my first, and probably only wish. I’ve thought about it long and hard, and short of the psychological impact of learning exactly how many horrible things you’ve done in your life and how many other lives you’ve inadvertently destroyed, there are no downsides!

You could finally find out how many miles you’ve traveled and by what mode of transport. How many socks were actually eaten by the drier and not just lost due to your lack of organization. How few times breaking up with that crazy girl was a bad idea. How many times you just barely avoided death in college.

The possibilities are endless. It’s perpetual entertainment. Just think of the graphs and flow charts you could make with this information at your disposal. You’d be a veritable one-man research team!

I’m sure, after a dozen years or so, I would have dried-up all of the generic statistical wells, and be well into asking for numbers on extremely abstract or oddly specific things. How many times did I miss seeing a horse in the wild because I was too busy looking at a mountain? How many times did my car keys strike my belt buckle from the ages for seventeen to thirty-one? Rounded to the nearest tenth, how many milliliters of hand sanitizer has my body absorbed through my hands and how many brains cells has that killed?

How many used car ties would the amount of Flying Dog Tire Bite Golden Ale I’ve consumed fill? Why is Tire Bite so light at tasty? Why does it refresh like a lager, but send my taste buds soaring like ale? Why would you ever bite a tire?

Wait, those last few aren’t statistical questions.

How many brewmasters does it take to make Flying Dog so good at what they do? How many other beers exist that are this good? How many beers are there that I don’t like? How many people are as crazy as me?

9 out of 10.

How many photos have I taken in my life? How many of them are any good?

Next up: Sam Adams Summer Ale!

Review: Stoudts Revel Red

April 27, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

…and we’re back!

My favorite purveyor of booze, Corridor Wine & Spirits, often has left over seasonal stock at the front of the store, ready for impulsive people like me to impulse purchase cheap things of questionable quality. These 6 packs, often unlabeled or mismatched, are a steal at $3.99. I’ve tried 3 so far, and I’m batting .666.

It’s like a brown-paper mystery grab bag; you never know what will be inside. It could be a handful of wet peat moss and grubs, or it could be 6 gold watches that can be used to travel through time. You just never know.

Despite the possibility of grubby-dirt beer, I can’t resist.

The first I tried was an unlabeled Marzen. It’s a shame it had no label, as it was quite good. Not the best thing I’ve ever sloshed across my taste buds, but a genuinely solid beer at 67 cents a bottle.

The second I tried was an unlabeled porter. It sort of tasted like burnt band-aids. I managed to drink two before my tongue and tummy cried out for respite. I honestly have no idea what happened to the other four bottles. It’s possible the contractor who finished my basement stole them. If so, he got his punishment.

So, third time’s a charm, right? Fortunately, this beer had a label! It was even in the correct 6-pack caddy!

Soudts Revel Red is an odd, but enjoyable brew. You’d expect a red ale from the name on the bottle, but the flavor is surprisingly mild; mid-range hop notes and moderate malts make for a beer that remains solidly neutral. From looks I might categorize it as an amber, but again it sits just as closely to a pale ale, making it hard to pin down.

The label says “Hoppy Ale” which isn’t wildly inaccurate. It’s hoppy in it’s own regard, but tastes like someone forgot to add the hops to the boil if you compare it to the likes of Smuttynose IPA or Loose Cannon IPA. It’s certainly got some crispness up front, but it’s balanced and sort of passive-aggressive. It has more malt that a traditional pale ale which gives it a distinctive, heavier flavor than a lot of other “hoppy ales.”

But is it good?

Certainly. Quite good for a porch sitting, guitar strumming, burger flipping, Saturday afternoon. I wouldn’t pick this beer up if you wanted a full-bodied amber or enough hops to make your hair fall out, but if you’re looking some something just a little different and less extreme, Revel Red is good to go.

7.75 out of 10.

Is the glass tiny, or the bottle huge?

Review: Brooklyn Brown Ale

April 19, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

It was hard for Brooklyn Brown Ale, being the only kid on the block who liked to read books. While all the other young beers were out playing sports, slowly fermenting in the summer sun, Brown was inside, pouring over volume after volume of classical literature.

The other beers ruthlessly made fun of him, calling him things like, “Drown Ale” and “Booklyn”, but Brown didn’t mind. He had a world he could escape to in his Lewis and Tolkien and Verne. When he was alone with his books he was free to be anyone, anything, anywhere.

It wasn’t long before Brown’s reading paid off, and he soon began surpassing his peer-beers in school. The years spent reading had given him an edge; he had knowledge of so many topics that he became a valuable asset to anyone who was struggling in school. Suddenly the biggest nerd became the MVB (most valuable beer), and the childish jokes all but stopped.

As he moved on to college, he kept reading, and it showed. He grew into his bottle; his once awkward body now full of malts and just enough caramel sweetness to draw the attention of the ladies. Brown was tall and strong, with a small, but bubbly head on his shoulders. As he matured, the physical started to match the mental.

He studied everything from physics to mythology, but just couldn’t find that one subject that held his attention wholly. He longed for something that challenged and intrigued him, something new, something wonderful.

That’s when he met her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her curves. She was perfection in glass form.

Their romance was a whirlwind of mash boils and carboys. Her kiss was sharp and cradling. When he poured himself into her body it was a perfect union, almost as if they were designed to be together.

His bubbles would dance on her skin, leaving subtle traces of his love long after they had been together. She could smell his delicate bouquet of hop-cologne as he got near, reminding her of his exotic mix of malts and barely.

Soon Brown realized that all his life he had been chasing the wrong thing. He had thought he wanted ultimate knowledge. It turns out he was really looking for love.

They would spend all of their time together reading all of their favorite books. Ovid and Homer and Thoreau. Campbell and Whitman and Emerson. Johnson and Pope and Donne. It turns out that she had been the neighborhood bookworm too.

It had taken him years, but Brown finally found his challenge, his adventure, his reason for life, in the bottom of his lady’s glass.

8.75 out of 10.

The happy couple.

Next up: Harpoon Munich Style Dark!

Review: Brooklyn Pennant Ale ’55

April 17, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

I never got into baseball.

I was born to be constantly moving. Modern medicine might diagnose me with “restless leg syndrome” or “fidgititus”. When I tried to play as a kid, I’d get easily distracted. I was famous for taking off my glove and wearing it like a hat, on top of my other hat. The only thing I was good at was running wildly towards a base, often knocking the baseman out of my path quite forcibly, and then being ejected from the game.

My mother often tells the story of when my dad had to literally drag an 11 year old me out of the house as I desperately clung to the stair rail, wanting nothing more than to not play baseball. I hated the uniform. Playing sports in tight pants just never sat well with me.

Baseball was just too sedentary. Too much standing and looking, not enough chasing and rolling. I needed to be running, jumping, falling, bumping. I know there is some movement in baseball, it just wasn’t enough for the amount of proverbial ants in my proverbial pants.

But! For the sake of this excellent beer, I’ll put on my baseball hat. Er, cap.

In 1955, the Brooklyn Dodgers thoroughly whooped up on the New York Yankees, taking the World series four games to three. This was the first World Series win in the history of the team, and put an end to the long-standing Yankee baseball dictator ship that had a chokehold on the game. In 1957, the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles, making the ’55 victory the only one to ever occur while the team was based in New York.

Easy to see why the geographical fanatics at Brooklyn Brewery named their beer after the historic event.

Baseball is as much a part of New York as street vendor hot dogs and militant taxi drivers. I think this is part of why I don’t particularly like New York City; it’s a world that doesn’t belong to me. I don’t get it, and I don’t think I am supposed to.

This beer though, I get this beer.  It may be that missing connection, the one thing that brings me closer to the Big Apple, closer to understanding the ravings of homeless people in Times Square, closer to realizing the appeal and wonder of America’s favorite pastime.

Pennant Ale ’55 pours into the glass like the wave passing through your section in the ballpark. It smells like that odor that hits you as you enter a stadium; fried food, newly opened beer, fresh, open air. It is a wholesome smell that primes you for an excellent drinking experience.

Its color is infield-dirt-brown, with a hint of red clay. The head settles quickly, leaving behind chalky baseline lacing just above the surface of the beer. The mouth feel is an in-field triple, the bubbles roaring like the crowd, hoping the runner will make it home. The taste is nothing short of a grand-slam.

9.5 out of 10.

Beer and barbecue - only second to beer and pizza.

Next up: Harpoon Belgian Pale Ale!

Review: Heavy Seas Gold Ale

March 28, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

I always try to pretend that I don’t like lagers and pilsners. The purist in me wants to be an avid ale-only enthusiast, but I can’t deny my secret love for  beers that are easier on my tongue and stomach. During the oppressively hot summer months, I’ve been known to drink an excessively large number of Yuenglings. You can’t barbecue with a Guiness, unless you’re really Irish.

Heavy Seas Gold Ale is an American blonde ale in disguise. It looks, smells, and pours like a lager, but surprises you with a bold, no-nonsense taste. If you were given a glass of this in a blind taste test, you might find yourself thinking it’s a kölsch. Or perhaps a noble hopped pilsner. Or perhaps you’ll just be glad you’re drinking a very tasty beer.

This is what I would call a “July 4th” beer. It’s light and smooth enough to be refreshing on a hot summer day, but packs enough punch at 4.5% ABV to prevent disgraceful chugging. It’s the kind of beer you’d be proud to share with your neighbors, and proud to hide from the cops when you smuggle it to the local fireworks display.

It pours a semi-transparent golden color (shocker, I know) with minimal head that dissipates quickly. It smells like a generic lager or pilsner, with minor hoppy notes and a tiny hint of alcohol. It maintains a lot of carbonation even after warming to room temperature, making the initial mouth feel quite sharp, like an injection of flavor straight to your tongue. It’s what a Novocaine injection would feel like if your dentist was a pirate.

The taste is impressive in its simplicity, but is similar to other beers in the category. It lacks the wheaty qualities of Belgian blondes, and might be indiscernible as an ale for someone who hasn’t tried many varieties.

This is definitely the most Spring-worthy beer of the pack. It’s refreshing but not weak, making it far superior to any AB InBev Domestic commercially available. It blows Heineken and Stella Artois out of the water (pun intended?) in terms of satisfaction-per-sip.

That being said, I’d probably go for something with a little more character as a staple Spring beer. I’d be hard pressed to choose this over Harpoon Rasberry UFO or even Sam Adams Alpine Spring, but as a part of a sampler, it’s a solid beer.

7.75 out of 10.

This is a mighty fine "goin' to bed" beer. That's why I took this picture on my night stand.

Next up: Smuttynose Old Brown Dog Ale!

  • Blog at WordPress.com.
  • Connect with us:
  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • RSS
Cancel