Once upon a time, the beer lover visiting London was told that all London pubs were shite, but that Michael Jackson had recommended the White Horse on Parson’s Green as a good one to visit. Well, last time out I tapped that White Horse of all its new beers, which is not a good sign for a serious beer bar in a country in which I do not live. But this time, there was no risk of that at the Rake, a much better situated pub. I had expected the usual American and Belgian suspects – nothing exciting for me in other words – but was wrong about that. The selection was very good, with a lot of beers I hadn’t seen before. Especially heartening was the presence of some interesting beers from England. I don’t normally get so excited about barrel-aged imperial stout, but for the English to make – for the domestic market – was pretty exciting to see.

In between the Rake and the now-legendary Market Porter lies Brew Wharf, a new brewpub. I’d already had beers from the new Sambrook micro and the next day I was able to hit up some bottles from the Kernel, another new micro. London – which once was home only to Fuller’s, Young’s and a handful of crappy brewpubs – is starting to put together a bit of a brewing scene for itself.

After London, our trip into England takes us to the Southwest, where we based ourselves in Bath. The town is beautiful and historic, dating to Roman times, and has a lot to offer the visitor even for a two week stay. The city is blessed with seemingly no end of quality pubs. It is rare, indeed, to find a pub in Bath that actually sucks. There are small characterful pubs like the Coeur de Lion, the Old Green Tree and the Volunteer Rifleman’s Arms. There are more modern, open pubs with racks of casks like the Royal Oak, the Raven and the Bell. You can get Bass served from the gravity barrel (“from the jug”, they call it here, in reference to the pitcher that the use to transfer the beer from the barrel to the glass) at the Star Inn, another great historic pub.

The local Abbey Ales can be sampled at the Farmhouse Inn, which adjoins the brewery. Another budding pub crawl is emerging in the Bathwick district with the Pulteney Arms – a rugby pub, the Barley and whatever that loud pub across the street is called. You can try Hobgoblin on cask at the eponymous rocker pub and see just how different that beer is when sampled in its proper, live format (the same can be said for the aforementioned Bass at the Star Inn, too).

Add to this some impressive pubs in the outlying towns, villages and rural areas. The Cross Guns in Avoncliff is stellar, as is the George Inn in Croscombe, the City Arms in Wells and there a couple others we haven’t been able to check out yet that would almost certainly make the list of great pubs in the area.

It’s easy to track down good pubs, of course, as the English take this stuff seriously. In addition to CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide, there is also the Real Ale Pub Guide, and any pub that carries a Cask Marque sticker is also a fairly safe bet for a decent pint. Around the Southwest, it appears, there is no shortage of great pubs and small breweries to serve them.

And then there’s the bottled beers. Many small towns have well-stocked beer stores, although curiously Bath seems to lack a killer beer store. When you visit such stores in other towns, however, you can find not only some interesting beers (Moor Fusion, Bristol Beer Factory Milk Stout) but also barrels of cider sold bulk and on the cheap. Did I mention the cider here? Crazy good. Except in Bath – it seems to be a country thing. Which is too bad, because some of the stuff we’ve come across has been exceptional.

All in all, I see many new breweries opening up in England, hopefully enough to replace ones closing down. I also see a lot of good pubs (yes, I’m sure there’s a lot of crap out there still) but my impression as someone who doesn’t spend much time here is that the scene is improving. As Britons take a greater interest in local food, they seem to also be taking an interest in local beer and cider as well.

Incidentally, Ratebeer has an excellent discussion ongoing about the English beer scene, with input from people who know it quite a bit better than myself – actual English (and Scottish) people!

I’ve already covered a number of individual topics on boutique hops. The first article of note in this issue of Imbibe, “Flavor of the Month” (available online), takes this approach one step further, and provides an excellent overview of the relatively new, charismatic hop varieties that are gaining wider use in craft beer. Citra, Nelson, Sorachi Ace, Teamaker… It’s a great introduction to the topic.

I’d actually pitched the exact same topic elsewhere recently… And if I’m going to get scooped (and this certainly won’t be the last time), it’s great to see the topic handled by someone who knows what’s going on. Well worth a read, and by no means the end of what’s a constantly changing landscape of new hops.

The second article of note, “Swing Low: Summery Wines That Don’t Pack an Alcohol Punch”, isn’t available online, and doesn’t seem to have anything to do with beer. The author picks a number of different varietals and styles that offer a lighter alternative to those hefty, New-World-y renditions that tend to push 15%+. These can be hard to pair with food or imbibe appropriately on a warm summer weekend. And many of the lighter suggestions were spot-on: German Rieslings at ~11%, Portuguese Vinho Verde similarly sized, Moscato D’Asti at 5.5%.

But beyond that… The lowest ABV listing beyond those above is an 11.5% Syrah. The rest of the list is occupied by 13.5% Pinot Noir, Chenin Blancs, Gamays, etc. And while the author does an appropriate job focusing upon the lighter varietals and calling attention to Old-World renditions of certain mid-range varietals, I still can’t get over the notion of a 13% Sauvignon Blanc being “low-alcohol wine.”

Is this forgetfulness? Is this a marketing thing? Is this just me losing my mind and falsely thinking of ”normal” wine as 12-14%? Maybe my curmudgeonliness knows no bounds (does Lew have this same problem?, I wonder), but the whole thing makes about as much sense to me as a 6.5% session beer.

In fairness, Imbibe’s online bonus feature to this article, “How Low Can You Go?“, features an excellent list of lower-alcohol beers weighing in under 5%.

That I can drink to.

Traditionally, the way people have tried to get people into craft beer has been a gradual escalation of intensity. Everything starts with American lager – if you like Budweiser, try a pale ale. If you like pale ales, try an IPA or a brown ale. If you like those, try stouts and porters. Go on from there to the extreme world of barleywines and “imperial” beers.

Basically, it’s a gradual shift from what people think of as typical or American beer to the stuff us beer geeks salivate over. The path certainly gets some people drinking better beer, but it doesn’t really take taste into account. Instead, it’s a focus on a repeated refrain of “oh, this is like what you’ve had before, but a little bit different.”

This year, a couple of great beer writers have turned me on to a much better way to turn beer non-drinkers into beer lovers. In The Naked Pint and Great American Craft Beer, the authors suggest that the best way to match people with beer is finding out the flavors they like. Not flavors like hoppy or malty – terms even beer geeks can’t seem to agree on – but lemon, caramel, espresso, plum, scotch or apple pie. It’s a fun way to discover beers, and a testament to the huge variety of flavors that exists across the dozens of beer styles (or even within a particular style). It also makes discussing beer with people new to the stuff much easier, as people can point to flavors in foods and drinks they like instead of in particular beers.

So, for everyone from beer neophyte to beer devotee, here’s a list of some familiar flavors you can find in some of my favorite beers.

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If you like a hot cup of coffee in the morning, try the Smuttynose Robust Porter.
Stouts and porters have pretty significant notes of coffee, chocolate brown sugar and molasses – not a fault of those things being added, but a product of the dark roasted malt used to brew the beer. Smutty’s Robust Porter is heavy on the coffee flavor, and tastes a bit like a cup of cold French Press coffee.

If you like sugar cookies, try Southern Tier Pumking.
Ever had one of those sugar cookies they sell right around Halloween? The kind with some pumpkin pie spices? This is like that.

If you like banana cream pie, try a hefeweizen like Three Floyds’ Drunk Monk.
The esters from the funky yeast used in most hefeweizens make for intense aromas and flavors of banana, clove and bubble gum. The banana notes are usually stronger in the nose of a hefe than the taste, but the Drunk Monk has a serious banana bread kick.

If you like a grapefruit in the morning, try Weyerbacher Double Simcoe IPA.
A lot of the hops in the Pacific Northwest – cascade, simcoe and centennial, for example – create strong smells and flavors of citrus in a beer. A particularly grapefruity hop is simcoe, and this double IPA from Weyerbacher cranks the hops and citrus taste up to 11.

If you like warm biscuits with butter, try Alaskan Pale Ale.
While the dark roasted malts in stouts and porters make for coffee and chocolate flavors, the lighter malt in an American pale ale makes for tastes more akin to fresh bread or cookies. Most APAs have a hop bite that can almost overpower the malt end of things, but the Alaskan tastes like the product of a local bakery.

If you like chocolate syrup, try the Mikkeller Black.
There isn’t any chocolate in Mikkeller’s insanely intense imperial stout, but you wouldn’t know that from the taste. The Black is all luscious milk chocolate, and the brew has a a hell of a thick body – not exactly the consistency of Hershey’s Syrup, but not far off.

If you like a stack of waffles with maple syrup, try the Dogfish Head Immort Ale.
The masters of unique flavors over at Dogfish put a ton of interesting ingredients into the Immort Ale, including maple syryp, peat-smoked barley, juniper berries, and vanilla. Of all of those, the syrup comes through with the most intensity, and everything mixes to a breakfast doused in maple and fresh berries.

If you like bacon, try the Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Marzen.
Rauchbier – German for “smoked beer” – is a beer that’s been made from malt smoked over a flame. The process makes for BBQ flavors, slightly sweet with a smokey kick. The Aecht Schlenkerla Marzen comes out with more bacon that most, which this drinker certainly appreciates.

If you like chocolate-vanilla swirl soft serve, try the Dieu Du Ciel Aphrodite.
THIS. A well-nigh perfect beer, brewed with vanilla and chocolate.

If you like honey, try a braggot like Brother Adam’s Bragget.
Braggots exist somewhere between mead and beer, and are brewed with honey, malt and hops. This leaves the brewer with a sweet beer, and the honey flavors are particularly powerful when the beer is fresh. The Brother Adam’s is a great introduction to the style, and forgoes the spices that muddle up the flavor in some other examples of the style.

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I’ll end with two questions; Are there any beers that remind you of a particular food, drink or flavor? What are your favorite flavors, either in a beer or in general? I might be able to match you up with a brew if you haven’t found the right one for you just yet.

This post originally appeared on BrewsAndBooks.com.

Willamette Valley brewers are among the luckiest in the world in that fresh hops are truly a short drive away — less than an hour in many cases. Brewers can take advantage of this once-a-year event by making a beer using fresh hops plucked right off the bines instead of dried ones.

Here’s a brief peek into what our trip was like, and a close-up look at how those little green gems are harvested and dried.

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Every year, Tampa’s Lowry Park Zoo holds several major fund-raising events.  The best of them, in this craft beer lover’s opinion, is WaZoo.  Listed by USA Today as one of the “10 Great Beer Festivals” in America, it is also – in the words of Cigar City Brewing’s Wayne Wambles – the “biggest sweat fest of all the beer fests”.  Held every year in the beginning of August, Lowry Park Zoo opens the gates in the early evening for a night of craft beer, food, and live music.  Tables and booths are set up all around the zoo, in many cases right next to animal exhibits.  The beer options run the full gamut from the B-M-C macros to local gems Cigar City Brewing, Saint Somewhere, Dunedin Brewery, and even local homebrew shop the Beer and Winemaker’s Pantry.  I have attended WaZoo several times over the years and it is always a lot of fun.  Great beers, good food, and a general lively and upbeat atmosphere.

Initially, I was not planning to go this year, however.  I had made plans to go out of town and visit family that same weekend, so I had resigned myself to the fact that I would miss the event.  But life happens, and due to weather and airport delays, I ended up having to cancel my trip.  I wanted to try to go, but $65 at the door was a tad steep for me, and of course I had not made any arrangements ahead of time.  In a conversation with a couple of friends I found out that they were going and volunteering for one of the distributors (Florida Micro Beverage) pouring beer.  I happened to know someone at FMB and fired off an email volunteering my services.  As luck would have it, they can always use an extra hand, and I was set!

I have never worked a beer event before.  I have been to many over the years as an attendee, writer, and reveller, but never spent any time behind the bottle.  I really didn’t know what to expect, but it turned out to be a great experience.  First of all, I drank far more water than I did beer.  It was so hot and humid in the early part of the evening, most of us were drenched within half an hour.  Moving cases of beer, kegs, and so on wasn’t hard, just hot.  I had not thought ahead enough to bring a shirt to change in to, but luckily I was provided a fresh Shipyard t-shirt once the gates opened.  I was assigned to the Atlanta Brewing Company/Red Brick table and was pouring Laughing Skull Amber, Red Brick Blonde, and Red Brick Double Chocolate Oatmeal Porter.  I had enjoyed these beers before, and was able to talk to those that were interested about them.  We were also joined by several volunteers from the Tampa Bay Parrotheads Club who apparently work the event every year.  Very nice people and what they lacked in beer knowledge they made up for in enthusiasm and hustle.  Several actually took the time to ask the other beer folks questions about the beers we were pouring so they could, in turn, answer others.

The fest-goers ranged in beer knowledge from the geeks looking for the “rarest” thing they could find, and asking questions about IBUs and grain bills to the self-proclaimed “non-beer drinkers” who wanted “whatever is closest to Bud Light”.  For me, the latter were the most fun.  You normally drink a light beer?  Well, try this blonde ale.  Its light in color, but there is some actual taste to it.  More often than not, the neophytes loved the flavor and character of this magical “craft beer”.  Even if only one person left WaZoo thinking “maybe there is more to beer than I originally thought…”, I feel like I performed a great service.

The flow of revelers was pretty constant, but I did take a break and got a chance to walk around for a bit.  According to Zoo officials, there were over “250 beverages from around the world” being served, but to be fair a good portion of those were nowhere near craft beer-like.  Tables for the macro-brews were big and flashy with attractive young women to reel in potential imbibers, and swag from these tables was handed out endlessly.  But tucked among them were great beers, and it was great to see people getting out of their comfort zone to try new and exciting brews.  As always, it was fun to see familiar faces and chat.

Eventually, I had to make my way back to my table and get back to pouring.  I noticed a slight change in the demeanor of the attendees as the night went on, and the inevitable one-who-had-too-many would come by looking to get another taste of “whatever you got”.  Of course I had always seen these folks at beer fests, but never while not drinking myself.  The humor I once associated with said behavior was lost on my sober state.  But to be fair, the vast majority were still fun and friendly, if slightly slurred and red-cheeked.

As the night came to an end we got a chance to breathe and hang out for a bit.  As always, beer events come down to the quality of people moreso than the beer.  Tampa Bay has some truly excellent beer people, both in the business and those that just enjoy it.  I greatly enjoyed my experience on the other side of the bottle and look forward to future opportunities.

At the same time (time being a term used to describe my explanation of history, not history itself), beer has highs and lows. As we say at the homebrew shop, if you can boil water, you can make beer. Making good beer, however, is a little more involved. But, the fact is, making beer isn’t hard. It’s why it’s been around for so long. It’s a way to make dirty water clean and taste good, with some fun after effects.

Some good beer has been around for a long time. Orval was born in 1070 AD. That’s almost a millennium ago. That’s about four times older than America. Correction: As an astute reader pointed out, construction on what would become Orval began in 1070. The beer has only beer around since 1931. Less fun, but still a long time.

Meanwhile, Budweiser is the most sold beer in the world. And today, August 30th, 2010, craft beer sales are growing faster than their macro competitors. Significantly faster. And I’m using significant in the true scientific 5% sense. In fact, macro sales have been down the past few years. And craft – as defined by the Brewer’s Association – is up.

Craft brewing has been around for a long time, but it’s had a recent resurgence. Sierra Nevada, arguably one of the forerunners of craft beer in America, started in 1979. 31 years ago. Now, while I don’t expect to be mature when I turn 31, it looks like craft beer is starting to mature.

In the past few months, some of the bigger, older, more well known, and sometimes the obscure, but in general, some microbreweries have been bought up by bigger companies. There have been mergers, acquisitions, and other business terms that don’t belong on a beer blog.

Anchor Brewing has been rolled up into Anchor Brewers & Distillers LLC, a group owned by the guys who took Skyy from a no name to one of the most recognized vodka brands in the world. Included in the portfolio are Junipero Gin and Old Potrero Whisky. Read more in the press release and article.

The Craft Brewers Alliance Inc. (CBAI) recently purchased Kona Brewing outright, adding Kona to their portfolio of Redhook Brewery and Widmer Brothers Brewing. CBAI also distributes Goose Island, though Goose Island is not wholly owned by CBAI. Read more.

North American Breweries purchased International Brewers United, and the combined portfolio includes Pyramid Breweries and Magic Hat Brewing.

And hell, even Pabst was bought by a Greek businessman recently. But they were going out of business. So there’s that.

On top of all these major acquisitions, many, many, many smaller craft brewers have been merging or buying out other breweries.

This goes a bit beyond collaboration brews.

It looks like the craft beer industry is maturing. While there has always been a tipping point, where a craft brewery goes from squeezing every penny out of every pint to having excess cash to spend on growth and marketing, it appears that craft breweries are starting to be recognized as legitimate businesses. Less than a half dozen breweries make up over 90% of the total volume and dollars of beer sold in America, and more than 1,400 breweries make the 10% left. But of those 1,400, a few are breaking through and being considered a worthy investment.

I’m not an economist. Or a speculator. Or really anyone with any sort of intelligence for this level of business. But, that qualifier aside, it appears that craft beer is getting the recognition it’s been striving for. For better or for worse. Good beer isn’t just a fad. It isn’t just a trend. It’s here to stay, it’s growing rapidly, and people like it.

Many industries go through this change. Skiing had a similar roll up recently, with almost all the brands being rolled up into three companies. And then another 50 sprouted in the wake.

I don’t know if it’s a good thing that some of the biggest, most well known, most consumed breweries are being bought up, rolled up, and combined. It’s been happening for a while, and some breweries, like Unibroue, continue to make amazing beer under corporate rule. Did you know they’re owned by Sapporo?

Maybe this will make good beer more accessible. Maybe it will be the end of this phase of the craft beer revolution.

Or maybe we will soon experience better beer than the world has ever seen. Better beer than you or I can possible imagine.

Or maybe nothing will change at all.

What do you think?

Growing up in sub-tropical Brisbane, there wasn’t much opportunity to be exposed to snow, nor to craft beer for that matter. Hot and humid was the usual refrain from the weatherman; bland and weak was all you got from the barman.

So to be standing at a trailhead with the intention of traipsing through snowy Patagonia in search of local craft beers seemed at best, a little odd, at worst ludicrous. The fact that I had convinced my wife Sofi to come along could only strengthen the case for ludicrous.

In my interview with Brewmaster Bruno Ferrari a few weeks earlier, he had casually mentioned that his beers were available on tap at Refugio Frey, a mountain refuge 1700m above sea level. It struck me that this would be the perfect place to try his microbrews and provide you, dear reader, with some amateur tasting notes.

So we set off with backpacks so laden with supplies that upon getting lost our only logical option would be to setup a minimart, charging inflated prices to unsuspecting hikers.

The first part of the trek had us traversing away from South America’s largest ski resort, Cerro Catedral, crossing partially frozen streams with the aid of a variety of wooden bridges.

Coming from a country where the seasons are marked by how long it takes for clothes to dry – 20 minutes for 8 months of the year, 40 minutes for the other four – snow and mountains have always fascinated me. While over the years I’ve learnt to snowboard, I still consider myself a mountain novice. This became abundantly obvious a few minutes after lunch.

The going had gotten decidedly tougher. The snow was deeper and as we broached the tree line the direct sunlight had softened it, making it unpredictable to walk on. By the time I came upon a gapping chasm in the path, I’d already fallen a number of times.

I decided that there was nothing for it but to jump the expanse. Not only did I come up with this ridiculous plan all by myself, but in a clear sign that altitude sickness had set in, I announced my intentions to Sofi.

Knowing a good thing when she sees it she got out her camera to capture the moment. In preparation for the jump I started swinging my hands slightly and moving my hips while counting to three in my head. As I came to the count of three and with all my energy flowing downwards, the snow beneath me gave way.

Not ready for the fall, I landed awkwardly, “my guys” getting squashed between the snow and my full body weight (see image left). Between laughing and taking photos Sofi was able to help me out. Dusting the snow from my clothing I realized that my manhood, both figuratively and literally, had taken quite the bruising.

After six and a half hours the apex of Frey’s roof suddenly appeared behind a crest of snow. What a sight. As we ascended, the stone and wood structure slowly revealed itself along with its stunning backdrop of snow-capped spires.

We were greeted by the friendly staff who urged us to just drop our bags in the hall and relax a bit. Not needing to be told twice, we headed back outside to enjoy the afternoon sun and the achingly beautiful surrounds.

Setting up camp on a rock beside the frozen lagoon, I wasted no time in pulling out the two bottled Berlina beers from my bag. I had brought their Munich Ale and Foreign Stout as backup in case the draft beer was no longer available. With the late afternoon sun showing an intensity that belied our location it seemed appropriate to try the Munich first.

The Munich Ale was born out of Bruno Ferrari’s desire to offer patrons a house blonde that wasn’t a pilsner. Brewed from three types of crystal malt, it poured golden brown with a nice fluffy white head. An earthy aroma pointed to the use of German Hallertau hops, while the local Cascade hops provided a slight bitterness to an otherwise light body that finished dry on the palate. Just the thing after a long day of hiking.

As the sun began to retreat so did we, back to the warmth of the mountain refuge. During summer all food, beer and wine is brought to the refuge on horseback. In winter, this task is left to man. As such, only essential items are replenished during the colder months.

So it was with little expectation that I approached the small kitchen to ask if there was any beer left. “Sure!” came the reply. “Which one do you want, the Munich or the Foreign Stout?” I plumped for the Stout to go with my pasta and mushroom sauce.

The stout arrived at the same time as the food. I’d assumed the mushroom sauce would be cream based, so when a tomato based concoction arrived I was a little taken aback. I shouldn’t have worried; it was delicious with a subtle spice kick that you rarely find in Argentinean cuisine.

The stout handled it with aplomb, its espresso flavours combining nicely with the mushrooms while its natural sweetness counteracted the acidity of the tomatoes beautifully. Who am I kidding, I was starving and thirsty and would have found happiness in the sole of my hiking boats and the sweat from my stinking socks.

All said and told I probably didn’t uncover the greatest match to grace the beer and culinary worlds, however I did discover a great place to enjoy the pleasures of local craft beer. The mountain refuge provided it all. A beautiful sunny afternoon to enjoy the very drinkable Munich Ale and a cosy, congenial atmosphere at night where the stout seemed right at home. I couldn’t help but think about All About Beer’s recent article 150 Perfect Places to Have a Beer; they might want to make that 151.

Me digging out the mash tun at The Kernel Brewery.

Last Wednesday, I brewed with Evin O’Riordain, owner and brewer at The Kernel Brewery in downtown London. Evin started up the brewery only eight months ago in a large unit underneath a train bridge. The brewery is a four-barrel system and Evin mostly produces hoppy beers as well as dark porters and stouts. Within the unit with Evin is a sausage and cheese maker. Apart from seeing these fine products being made right in front of my eyes, I realized, or I should say re-realized that soon after I started to appreciate quality beer, I discovered a love for quality cheeses.

After brewing an American pale ale with Evin that day, I was able to try some of the cheese and sausage, and was completely blown away at how amazingly complex and flavorful both were. Though I know far more about brewing that I do sausage and cheese making, I still attribute my love for good, quality food to my learning about respectable beers.

Thursday, I was yet again reminded about this phenomenon when I attended the BBC Proms in East London, where I saw the BBC Symphony Orchestra perform Sibelius’s Second Symphony. Yes, I went to college for music, and yes, I played in an orchestra, but I like many different styles of music, and I attribute my love for both quality music and quality beer to one another.

Views from Bristol

Friday morning, I left London for Bristol, which is about 100 miles west of London. The hills and historic architecture in the area made for some amazing views. After a bit of site-seeing, I traveled a few miles east to Bath Ales, a brewery that I have heard many other brewers speak very highly of. Stuart Tucker, the Quality Manager at the brewery, acted as my tour guide throughout the day, giving me access to all corners of the brewery to see how they make their beer.

Stuart gave me a very long and informative tour of both the brewery and their off-premise bottling line. I learned about the brewery’s founding in 1995 and how it has grown more than 10 times in size since then. Stuart and I were able to taste many of the beers, and I was quite impressed with the level at which they were brewed. I was told that cleanliness was an important factor in their beer making, and they considered themselves to be glorified cleaners that just happened to make beer.

Stuart Tucker in front of the tasting casks at Bath Ales.

After the tour, I was able to have a few beers and a conversation with Gerry Condell, head brewery at Bath. It didn’t take long to realize that Gerry absolutely loved everything about beer and was a little jealous of my year-long trip around the world studying beer in 14 countries. Gerry was a home brewer for many years before his current gig at Bath, and sees brewing as a way to learn about the histories of cultures and brewing styles throughout the ages. He sees the brewing industry as a caring, helpful community of people that are always willing to lend a hand to one another instead of the cut-throat business tactics that take place in other industries.

So, not only are people in the brewing industry able to be better people, but many of them appreciate so many other things in life because of their love for beer. The sharing that takes place between brewers transfers into the generosity that has been shown to me at each and every brewery, brewing club, and organizational meeting that I have been to. I firmly believe that when you do one thing in your life that is great, it will lead to others, and that is why I know my year of travel was in the right field, and is the perfect year of travel that could possibly be conceived; okay, that’s opinionated.

Starting tomorrow, I will be biking to West Kent to a farm, where I will be hop picking for a week. I’ve actually never been to a hop farm before, so no matter how physical and tiring the work ahead may be, my excitement will sustain my spirits. The farm I am traveling to grows ten varieties of hops, ranging low to high alpha acids. I’ll be sure to take pictures and videos of my adventures, so don’t miss next week’s article, which will be completely devoted to my time at the farm.

The next several months will also bring the last gasp of beer festivals before the snow flies here in northern New England. Everyone is, of course, familiar with Oktoberfest, which is traditionally held in the late September to early October time frame. Over the years I have attended many of these celebrations held locally and, while they have been fun, my “bucket list” definitely includes a trip to Munich someday for the granddaddy of this type of festival. Called “Volksfest” in Germany, the statistics of this event are nothing short of staggering, a term which might also apply to some of the attendees. In 2009 (the 176^th anniversary) there were about 5.7 million people that attended the Munich event. These people consumed 6.5 million Liters of strong (6-8% ABV) Märzen beer, approximately 600,000 chickens and the foodstuff equivalent of 84 head of cattle during the 16-day event. The festival grounds include 14 large tents with a seating capacity of about 100,000 revelers. The financial impact of this event is also huge; pushing about 800 Million Euros into the German economy. It truly sounds like the “holy grail” of beer festivals to me!

Next weekend I am planning on attending the 16^th annual Mount Snow Brewer’s Festival in southern Vermont. It is not one that I have attended before, so I am looking forward to it. A bit smaller than the many beer festivals some of you are used to attending (about 25 brewers) the event is held in a breathtakingly beautiful spot. I also plan to attend the 14^th annual New England Homebrewer’s Jamboree, which is being held in Campton, New Hampshire in a couple of weeks. This is also an event that I have not attended before and am very much looking forward to. This event, which supports the Make-A-Wish Foundation with its proceeds, is an opportunity for home brewers from across New England to come and show off the fruits of their brewing skills to their colleagues.

I missed out on Ommegang Brewery’s “Belgium Comes to Cooperstown” festival that was held recently. So popular is this event that tickets sold out on-line in just a few hours. I will have to be more diligent about getting tickets for this event next year. Ommegang beer truly holds a special place in my heart when it comes to craft beer. I consider my first taste of their Belgian Abbey brew (my first taste of any Belgian styled beer) many years ago to be my “craft beer epiphany”; that eye popping event that really impressed upon me how limited I had been about the variety of beers I had tried.

Another sure sign of the approaching seasonal change is the appearance of traditional autumn beer styles… Oktoberfest/Märzen (of course), fresh or “wet” hop brews, autumn Saisons and pumpkin beers. A quick survey of some local bottle shops showed that all of these beer types are slowly working there way onto the shelves of the beer purveyors. In celebration of the approaching fall beer season, I pulled out a bottle of what is perhaps my favorite fall beer last night; Shipyard Brewing’s Smashed Pumpkin. It was from last year’s bottling and I was very pleased with the “mellowing” that had taken place over the last year or so. While most pumpkin brews use larger amounts of spices, which is a distinct negative for me in this type of beer, the spicing of this hefty brew (9% ABV) is much more subtle and the beer is much more reliant on the actual pumpkin flavor. I really enjoyed this beer and I think that it created for me an excellent start into the fall beer season.

Like most summers, this one has gone by far too quickly. Soon we will start the much longer cold weather period that we have here in Vermont. I am not really looking forward to shoveling that first blast of snow, which I know will appear soon enough. Fortunately, I will have the next week of great weather to enjoy and that should make for a perfect segue into the transitional season of fall… autumn colors, harvest foods, beer festivals and lots of great beer to enjoy. All of that will not only give me plenty to think about for the next couple of months, but it will likely provide a welcome distraction from the rapidly approaching winter months. I am sure, however, that by the time those cold months begin to arrive, I will have found new reasons and opportunities to celebrate that coming change in seasons as well.

While the brewery tour was great (particularly so due to main tour conductor Aaron), it was the tasting that was the main event of the evening. For each beer tasted, Seifert talked about the making and history of the beer, and there were interesting nuggets of information to be gleaned along the way.

Here’s the lineup, along with some notes:

Mirror Pond Pale Ale: The Brewery’s flagship beer, one of Seifert’s all-time favorites. There’s not a lot that needs to be said about Mirror Pond, although I found it interesting that it is apparently made with all Cascade hops—I would have thought there was a mix of several.

Green Lakes Organic Ale: The Brewery loves this beer, even though it’s more problematic to brew than other beers—due to it’s certified organic status. For instance, not only do the ingredients need to be certifiably organic (or at minimum in the case of hops, salmon safe), but they have to properly prep the equipment before brewing to remove the residue of previous (non-organic) batches—things like vacuuming out the grain conveyors.

Twilight Ale: The breakout summer seasonal—actually one of Deschutes’ most popular seasonals—the hop schedule for Twilight is most interesting. They want to get lots of hop flavor and aroma into the beer without making it bitter like an IPA (“clean” beers are what the Brewery strives for), so to get that with Twilight there is hardly any first-hopping (merely 4 pounds per 150 gallons), no second-hopping, and a ton of third hopping (finishing and aroma hops). And then more hops are added to the whirlpool (the stage where they’re separating hops from the wort).

Jubelale: This year’s version of Deschutes’ most popular seasonal, bottled and being packaged right now and planned for release in late September (around the 20th). Even though it’s early, I have to admit it’s really drinkable right now. Seifert confirmed that each year they tweak the recipe, and talked about molasses and vanilla bean (you can taste the molasses really nicely). A lot of East Kent Goldings hops goes into Jubelale, and to maintain the freshest possible hops (which have to be harvested the previous fall, remember), the Brewery splits full bales of hops into quarters and then seals them in nitrogen to preserve them as long and as fresh as possible.

Hop in the Dark CDA: Seifert talked about how this was a frustrating beer for the brewers to make, as they went through 22 test batches before finally releasing the bottled version—and it took the first 16 to even get close to what they wanted. Normally, it only takes 4 to 5 batches to dial in a recipe. The technique they finally settled on is cold-steeping all of the dark grains to extract the flavors they want without the harsher components that clash with the hops.

Black Butte XXII: This year’s Reserve Series double Black Butte Porter that was famously dumped due to chocolate problems in the bottled beer. Some 3000 cases of this beer were lost, amounting to about $250 thousand. Seifert was the lead brewer on this beer, and for this to happen he likened to “your kid flunking out of school.” The real tragedy is that it’s a fantastic beer, brewed this year not only with coffee and chocolate but with orange peel and chili peppers (pasilla negra chilies, to be exact). The only BBXXII to be found is on tap at the two Deschutes pubs.

The Dissident: Several bottles of 2008’s sour wild beer (the first wild yeast the Brewery ever used) were opened, which gave Seifert and Randles a chance to talk about this year’s version of The Dissident, which will probably be coming out in November. (Though with wild beers like this, that’s not set in stone.) Two years of age on this beer have been fantastic, the nose is full of cherry fruit notes and the ascetic tartness have mellowed. Seifert was also the lead brewer on this beer, and he humorously stated that in convincing [lead brewer] Larry Sidor and [owner] Gary Fish to brew a wild beer, he had them agree not to fire him if something bad happend (like the wild yeast infecting the rest of the brewery).

Incidentally, the 2008 edition of The Dissident is exceedingly rare to find any more, so if you come across any bottles, grab them up. I happen to have a bottle in my closet, and when this year’s version is released I’m planning a side-by-side tasting.