Gateway Craft Beer: Brooklyn Lager

As I’ve mentioned on other gateway craft beer posts (e.g. here, here and here), a beer’s ubiquity can go a long way toward converting your friends to drinking the good stuff. You order it for them at a bar, and a few days later, when they’re in the Gin Mill or whatever, there’s a good chance they’ll remember the beer and order one themselves. Hopefully, once they get hooked on a particular good beer, they’ll be ready to explore a bit on their own.

Well, in New York, it doesn’t get much more ubiquitous than Brooklyn Lager. It’s so nice to be NYC and to be able to walk downstairs and out the door to the grocer in the foot of my building and pick up a sixer of Brooklyn Lager anytime. It’s classified as an Amber Lager, which is darker and maltier than most other lager styles. Brooklyn Lager may not be sexy, but it’s a damn good beer that you can find, on tap or in the bottle, almost anywhere in the City. And it also has the advantage, mentioned in my writeups of Sam Adams and Blue Point Toasted Lager, of being a lager, a style that many layfolk have heard of. Giving your friend a craft lager might help ease their fears of drinking “girly” or “fancy” beer.

My love of Brooklyn’s Black Chocolate Stout is well documented, and I also gave a very positive review to the fancier Black Ops. These two are seasonals, as is the excellent Sorachi Ace saison (though that’s becoming a year-round beer in 2011!). But I’ve been underwhelmed by most of Brooklyn’s standard year-round offerings. Their Brown Ale, their English-style IPA, the Pilsner and the Pennant pale ale are all decent and drinkable but nothing special. The exception is their flagship Brooklyn Lager.

Going back to Brooklyn

The beer pours a lovely golden amber with a big, white foamy head. The carbonation looks active, with lots of tiny bubbles racing to the surface the entire time I’m drinking. A good amount of white lacing streaks the side of the glass as I drink. All in all, a very pretty beer.

It smells bitter and fruity. Honestly, I’d probably think it was an IPA if I were sniffing it blind. The smell is certainly better than other amber lagers I’ve had. The taste starts out sweet and fairly fruity, and then a nice earthy bitterness that lingers and lingers. I love the bitterness, it’s something I’m not used to in a lager, but it’s more of a background player than in an IPA. There’s a good amount of grainy malt, too. Bit of caramel as it warms. It’s highly carbonated and fairly thick for a lager, which you’d expect from the amped-up maltiness.

So go down to your bodega, your sports bar, your dive, or what have you, and grab your friends a Brooklyn Lager. Get them to sip slowly and pay attention. Maybe by this time next year, he’ll be demanding Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout on tap at Jake’s Dilemma.

Gateway Craft Beer: Duvel

Welcome back to our series on gateway craft beers, the best beers to get your Keystone-drinking friends to start sipping the good stuff. So far we’ve looked at a powerful but manageable case study on hops, a lager to get people to drink local, the flagship beer of America’s largest brewery, and a brew that beats you over the head with flavor, reminds you that you’re not worthy, and leaves you begging for more. This week we’re going to wow your friends with finery.

Many non-beer geeks have a dichotomy in their minds: American beer is bland and what you drink at frat parties. Belgian beer is exciting and fancy. This dichotomy is silly and false, of course, but we’ll convince your friend of that later. For now, let’s work with what we’ve got. The fact is, most easily available Belgian beers are way better than most easily available American beers. If you ask a random person on the street what an American beer is, she’ll most likely say one of BMC, or Sam Adams if we’re lucky. Ask her what a Belgian beer is, though, and there’s a good chance she’ll have heard of Chimay or Duvel.

Head is good.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that Duvel is only good compared to American macro lagers. Duvel is a world-class beer, period. That’s why we’re so lucky that it shows up everywhere, which is part of what makes it so attractive as a gateway craft beer. It’s in our bars, beer stores, regular stores, fancy restaurants, and not-so-fancy restaurants. These days, for the holiday season, you can buy a 4-pack gift set that comes with a fancy Duvel goblet (see pictured) for a very reasonable price (I think it was about $15 at New Beer Distributors). It makes the perfect gift for that special someone that you want to start drinking good beer.

Duvel is a great introduction to Belgian beers. Take a whiff from your goblet. Smell that kind of sweet, kind of spicy, kind of funky aroma? That’s from the Belgian yeast, and almost all Belgian beers will have some variation on that aroma. Another Duvel feature typical of Belgian beer is that big, fluffy, off-white head. The Belgians understand pouring a beer isn’t about cramming as much liquid into the shaker glass as humanly possible — head is good. A sturdy head on a beer releases a cascade of aromatics. Now’s the time, guys, to explain to your friend how aroma is so closely related to taste and that sniffing your beer is an important part of enjoying it.

Also like most good Belgians, Duvel is tasty enough for anybody to enjoy but complex enough that even the most hardened beer geek can spend a long time exploring the flavors. I get a light cotton candy flavor, some banana, some clove, lemony hops, and that’s just scratching the surface. Best of all is the mouthfeel, which feels like champagne and really hammers home the point that this is a beer worthy of the utmost respect.

So next time you’re at dinner with friends, skip the wine and order them a Duvel. You may find yourself a fellow geek for life.

Gateway Craft Beer: Blue Point Toasted Lager

With today’s gateway craft beer, we’re going back to lagers. As I mentioned while discussing Samuel Jackson’s Samuel Adams, lagers have an inherent advantage in persuading macro beer drinkers. They tend to know that Budweiser is something called a “lager,” even if they don’t know what that means, and they might be more comfortable trying a different lager than some fruity Belgian nonsense.

Toasty

Enter Blue Point Toasted Lager. It has some advantages right off the bat. First of all, it’s called “Toasted Lager,” which makes it sound like the kind of beer a neophyte already drinks, but classier. Of course, this beer bears only superficial resemblance to Budweiser.

The other main advantage is that it’s a local beer. Who doesn’t want to support their local breweries? Blue Point is brewed out in Patchogue, Long Island, on the South shore across the bay from Fire Island. Of the several Long Island breweries, it is the biggest and most well-known. It was founded in 1998, and its beers are now common up and down the East Coast. With the “eat local” movement getting stronger by the day, “drink local” can be a very effective motto to get your friends to start drinking the good stuff. Toasted Lager can be found in most grocery stores in New York City, so availability is another big plus. It’s probably the easiest-to-find local bottle other than Brooklyn Brewery stuff.

The question, as always: is it any good? While I probably wouldn’t choose Toasted Lager in a place with a broad selection, it’s definitely good enough in the right situation. The beer pours a light, clear amber color with a small white head. The smell certainly lives up to the beer’s name — toasty. One friend of mine described the aroma as “cheerios,” and that’s actually pretty accurate. Kind of a toasted grainy scent. There’s also the distinctive smell of lager yeast, which is kind of dank and “beery,” which the novice will probably recognize. Not all that complex, but nothing wrong with it.

The taste has enough flavor to keep your beer novice friend interested, but not too much so as to turn her off. It’s mild, with the same toasty grain from the aroma, coupled with that lager yeast and a malty caramel sweetness. Not much going on in the hop department. It’s highly carbonated, which new beer drinkers seem to like.

Blue Point Toasted Lager isn’t Blue Point’s best (Rastafa Rye and Old Howling Bastard are both exceptional beers), and it’s not the best American Lager out there, but it’s easy to find, and you could do way worse if you’re trying to hook a Bud drinker on the good stuff.

Gateway Craft Beer: Samuel Adams Boston Lager

Pretty much everybody over the age of 21 on the East Coast has had a Boston Lager at least once. At this point, even most depressing dive bars full of 70-year-old men who haven’t had anything but Coors for the past three decades have Boston Lager on tap. Dave Chappelle made fun of the commercials. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where many beer snobs insist that it isn’t really craft beer at all (they have commercials on the teevee — SELLOUTS!).

Good motherfuckin' choice motherfucker!

This claim is preposterous, of course. All of us craft beer geeks owe a tremendous debt to Jim Koch and his Boston Beer Company, better known by their brand Samuel Adams. The recipe for Boston Lager dates back to the pre-prohibition era, when it was brewed by Louis Koch. But Sam Adams as we know it today started in 1985, when Jim Koch started brewing the recipe. A quarter century later, Sam Adams is the biggest craft brewery in the nation, with an annual output of approximately 1.5 million barrels, or about twice that of Sierra Nevada, the second biggest craft brewery. Sam Adams is publicly traded — you can go buy SAM at the NYSE. And with Anheuser-Busch’s 2008 acquisition by InBev, headquartered in Belgium, Samuel Adams became the largest American-owned brewery.

Jim Koch isn’t just a craft brewing pioneer, he puts his money (or ingredients) where his mouth is. 2008 saw a major worldwide shortage of hops which drove up the cost of the key ingredient tremendously. The giants could compete, but the shortage hit the burgeoning craft brewing industry hard. To try and ease the burden, Jim Koch sold about 20,000 pounds of hops from Sam Adams’ supply to small craft brewers at cost. Obviously the need was much greater than the supply, but still over 100 craft breweries were able to buy hops from Sam Adams at about $6 a pound, instead of the about $30 a pound they cost at the time on the open market. (You can read more about it here.)

Mr. Koch is still firmly at the helm. The Samuel Adams line includes over a dozen solid brews. Oktoberfest is a perennial fall classic. The Honey Porter is good (and a great cooking ingredient!) I’ve fawned over Utopias, the ultra-expensive but truly wonderful liqueur-like concoction, on this blog before. But the beer that defines the line is still the first: Samuel Adams Boston Lager. Jim Koch helped make America safe for craft brewers, but the ingenuity and generosity wouldn’t mean a lot to current beer geeks if Sam Adams wasn’t putting out a quality product.

Mmmm-mmm, bitch!

Rest assured, Boston Lager is a good beer. It may lack the complexity to make a beer geek swoon, or the giant flavors and aromas to knock her on her ass. But it’s good, and has several advantages as a gateway craft beer.

The first advantage is its name: Boston Lager. For many, the very first baby step toward appreciating beer is learning that there are different styles for different tastes (witness Miller Lite’s claims of “great Pilsner taste” — John Pilsner would be rolling in his grave if he were a real person.) Most people are aware that Budweiser is something called a “lager.” This Sam Adams thing is a “lager,” so Billy Chugalot knows he’ll be on slightly familiar ground if he tries it.

Of course, Sam Adams tastes nothing like Budweiser. It seems a little pointless describing the taste to you, dear reader, since I’m sure you’ve had it many times. In short, it’s a simple, grainy, slightly caramelly and hoppy experience. But it almost defines “drinkable.” It engages your taste buds without taking them over, which is just what somebody just trying to get into good beer might be looking for. I don’t see myself ordering one at a craft beer bar, but when I’m at an NYC frat or sports bar with less beer-y friends, I’m really really happy to have it.

Gateway Craft Beer: Stone Arrogant Bastard Ale

I know, I know, a bunch of you are already getting your befuddled and angry emails ready. Permit me to explain.

The last gateway craft beer we looked at, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, isn’t exactly light and subtle. Still, it’s gentle enough that you can really focus in on one specific aspect of good beer — in this case, the hop profile. (By the way, if you’re anything like me and most of my beer friends, during your first few months of craft beerdom the hop goddess will be your dominatrix — you won’t be able to get enough hops and you’ll be licking her boots in no time.)

Arrogant Bastard takes the exact opposite tack. Rather than getting you to think about the specific ingredients in good beer, it corners you in an alley and mercilessly beats you over the head with flavor. It’s a harsh lesson, but it will teach you just how much flavor can be crammed into a beer. This may be overwhelming to some new craft beer drinkers, but I’ve had several Coors Lite-drinking friends converted by that smarmy gargoyle. Once you go Bastard, you never go back.

No really, you're not worthy.

Stone Brewing Company out in San Diego are the most arrogant bastards around. Stone was founded in 1996 by Greg Koch, the business guy, and Steve Wagner, the brewing guy. Since then, it has become one of the most recognizable brands in craft beer. This is largely due, no doubt, to the gargoyle. Look at him up there, taunting you, always reminding you that you’re not worthy. The back of the Arrogant Bastard bottle contains such rebukes as, “It is quite doubtful that you have the taste or sophistication to be able to appreciate an ale of this quality and depth,” and, “Perhaps you think multi-million dollar ad campaigns make a beer taste better. Perhaps you’re mouthing your words as you read this.” Other Stone labels have similar themes. (I especially like Sublimely Self-Righteous Ale, which label is something along the lines of “we don’t give a shit if you don’t like this beer, because we do!)

Of course, the attitude would just be annoying and pathetic if Stone didn’t bring the goods. Rest assured, citizen, they do. There’s a bit of hipster-esque snobbery from some people now that Stone (and Arrogant Bastard in particular) is so popular, but most beer geeks agree that Stone makes some of the best beers on Earth. The Russian Imperial Stout is one of the best, the IPA is tremendous, and the Old Guardian Barleywine is arguably the textbook example of the American style of that beer. Then there are the Arrogant Bastard variations: Oak-aged Arrogant Bastard, Double Bastard, and the forthcoming Lucky Bastard (a 9.2% ABV blend of the 3 “Bastard” beers that should launch around the end of 2010).

I poured it into a red wine glass, so you know I'm serious.

But we’re here to talk about Arrogant Bastard. What kind of beer is it, anyway? According to Beer Advocate, it falls into the catch-all category of “American Strong Ale,” or a beer above 7% ABV or so that isn’t a double IPA, barleywine, imperial stout, old ale, doppelbock, or any other more traditional style. What does that mean for you, the drinker? If you closed your eyes and drank it blind, you’d be tempted to call it a Double IPA or possibly a Cascadian Dark Ale. That is to say, the hops are going to murder you. It’s a bitter, pine-tasting flavor explosion. It’s got a deep, dark sweetness and a bit of a roasted character, both of which come out as the beer warms. If you delve deep, you can pick up some other interesting flavors like vanilla and something nutty. It’s also extremely sticky, which might be a new feature of beer for you. But like I said before, it’s a revelation how much flavor can be in one bottle. You’ve come a long way from tasteless fizzy yellow beer (unsurprisingly, another phrase from the label).

Gateway Craft Beer: Sierra Nevada Pale Ale

This is a new feature — a look at some of the easy-drinking but still delicious craft beers that often act as gateways to the world of beer geekdom. Let me know which craft beer was your gateway drug! Email NewYorkAleProject at Gmail.com

Ever since I’ve been of drinking age, Sierra Nevada has been my standard fridge stocker. It’s everywhere, it’s delicious, it’s cheap, and it’s a great session beer (more on “session beer” another day, since it’s a pretty contested term, but essentially it’s a beer you can have a bunch of in a night without getting embarrassingly drunk). It was the first beer that I really, truly liked. (My dad got it pretty often, along with Bohemia, a decent pilsner hecho en Mexico; and the occasional Negro Modelo. Not the best beer on the planet, but plenty drinkable, and I never had to drink Bud or Miller at home.)

Pioneers, O Pioneers

This Pale Ale is a product of Sierra Nevada Brewing Company in Chico, California. It was founded in 1980 by a couple of homebrewers. Since then, Sierra Nevada has grown to the point where it produces around 700,000 barrels of delicious, delicious beer annually. That’s second only to the Boston Beer Company (aka Samuel Adams) for craft brewers. In fact, Sierra Nevada is a big part of the reason why we now use the term “craft beer” instead of “microbrew.” Their production outstrips that of microbreweries, but the beer is still crafted with innovative recipes and the best ingredients, unlike BMC beers. (And, for perspective, you have to keep in mind that AB Inbev produces about 100 million barrels in the US each year, i.e. Sierra Nevada still produces less than 1% of what Ab Inbev does.)

Sierra Nevada Pale Ale is the brewery’s most popular and flagship beer, but it’s just one of a truly huge lineup. Other Sierra Nevada beers you can find each year include Bigfoot Barleywine (for my money the best value in all of craft beer), Torpedo (excellent West Coast-style IPA), and Kellerweis (an extremely flavorful Hefeweizen). This list is nowhere near exhaustive. These past few months the brewery has been releasing 30th Anniversary beers, which are big and strong beers brewed in collaboration with founder Ken Grossman’s beer buddies from over the years. Each one released so far has been terrific and continues to bolster the case that despite their size, SN can craft brew with the best of them.

The beer that launched a thousand geeks.

But what about the Pale Ale, the beer that most people associate with Sierra Nevada? It’s the archetypal American Style Pale Ale. This beer pours a clear golden orange with a moderate white head. The aroma is a very appealing mixture of floral hops and grainy malt. American Pale Ales are all about balance, and Sierra Nevada nails it. It’s an excellent beer with which to begin studying hop aroma —  the malt is so recognizably grainy that you can really focus on the hops and think about what you smell.

The taste hits the same balance. The hops are prominent but the malt provides a solid counterweight. It’s heavily carbonated, medium bodied, and the hops linger for a while. This is the standard against which all American Pale Ales are judged, and rightly so. It may not be the very best example (though I’m not saying it’s not — Dale’s Pale Ale is delicious, though I disagree with it’s categorization and think it should be labeled an IPA), but it’s the pioneer, and you can’t do better for the availability and the price.