Thursday, June 07, 2012
Drinking through Seattle and Alaska
A trip to Seattle is like wading into a museum of America's craft beer history. At a time when non-Boulder craft beer remained a mere idea in Colorado, the state of Washington was jump-starting the microbrew revolution. Even the frontier land to the northwest of it was an early adopter, when Alaskan Brewing opened in 1986.
Today, the region is no longer solely synonymous with experimental American beer - it's fair to argue that Colorado holds that title more - but its selections are even more diverse. And a recent 10-day trip through Seattle and Alaska demonstrated this quite well.
The first thing one might note about the Emerald City beer scene is the profusion of craft beer available seemingly on every restaurant menu. Brunch place? Check. Sushi restaurant? Yep. Waterfront seafood place? Why would you think otherwise?
And the IPA selections were laudable across the board. Skagit River Sculler's IPA (pictured in the capable hands of the Beer Geekette) was aggressive, though more earthy than acidic. Boundary Bay IPA presented a well balanced ambiance perfect for mid-day enjoyment. And Fremont Brewing, worth a trip off the beaten path, rocked a flowery, viscous, hop-heavy Brother Imperial IPA that made one appreciate small breweries.
All of that was but prelude for the highlight of any beer journey to Seattle - a trip to Elysian Brewing, whose Great Pumpkin earned this blog's award for the beer of the 2009 GABF. But one run through the specialty beers taster menu informs you how much more it has to offer.
Space Dust - "a totally nebular IPA" - exploded with a sweetly bitter bite of grapefruit and apple. The White Woods Wit was a complex marriage of ginger and carbonated wheat. And the Peste chocolate chili ale lit up the palate with waves of coffee, cinnamon and a late-breaking heat that excited your taste buds; it was so good that we felt it necessary to sneak one onto our cruise ship.
Combine that nationally known treat with local finds like Pike Pub and Brewery, which was offering a bubbly and sharp honey saison, and there was little that could steer you wrong in the city. The only big disappointment was pioneer (circa 1983) brewery Hale's Ales, which presented an array of bland and light-bodied offerings more appropriate for the time of its founding, its Supergoose Double IPA being the exception.
While one couldn't trip over a grande mocha latte in Seattle without landing on a hefty craft beer menu, it was admittedly a little harder to find such variety in Alaska. That can be blamed partially on our chosen mode of transport - a cruise ship that, not shockingly, had a minimal craft selection. But there still were a few goodies to be found.
Alaskan Brewing, known foremost for its often-imitated smoked porter, also makes a sturdy, if unspectacular list of more standard beers. The IPA is hoppy enough to please without assaulting the tongue. The amber has a surprisingly full body. And the Belgian white, which seemed all the rage at the port-side bars (such as the Red Dog Saloon pictured above), was light for its style but still pleasingly refreshing.
But The Hangar on the Wharf, a Juneau beer bar, served a Kodiak Nut Brown from Midnight Sun Brewing of Anchorage that was nutty to the point of being chocolaty and served at an appropriately cold temperature to heighten its taste.
And the find of the trip was Skagway Brewing - a good-sized pub in a noted former Gold Rush town that every beer fan on the ship seemed to visit when we stopped in town. And for good reason - its hop-heavy Chikloot Trail IPA had a deep but not overly biting taste, its Boom Town Brown had a surprising hop backbone and its Blue Top Porter had a simplistic chocolate-java goodness that was comforting far from home.
There shouldn't be too much surprise, I suppose, in discovering a land of beer goodness in Seattle and Alaska. But until you actually visit to find it, you don't know what you're missing.
Labels: Alaska beers, Alaskan Brewing, Elysian Brewing, Fremont Brewing, Pike Pub and Brewery, Seattle beers, Skagway Brewing
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The Smoky Side of AleIt started with Liquid Bacon, the mouth-watering, mesquite chewy smoked copper ale from Hunter Beer Co. at the edge of Australia's Hunter Valley wine region that lived up to its name when I first tried it in 2009. Then it moved to the smoked bock that the SandLot Brewery served the next summer, not as full of barbecuey goodness but still packed with smoke in a lighter-bodied beer.
Now, the welcoming club of smoked beers that aren't porters has a new member in the William Wallace Scotch Ale being poured down at Denver Beer Co. And it is every bit as chew-worthy - and, according to its brewer, as polarizing - as the other beers that have come from this style.
The smoked porter, popularized by Alaskan Brewing, is, at this point, a semi-common option for most breweries. The dark malt cloaks the smoke and makes it perceptible only as an add-on rather than a main flavoring, giving just a hint of spiciness to the common murky character of the style.
But lighter-bodies beers that have a flavor of smoke to them are riskier, as the smoke stands out far more prominently. And there you walk a think line between brews that taste like the liquid equivalent of a sumptuous rack of ribs and beers that taste like a fire fighter's uniform was substituted for hops as a late-boil addition.
William Wallace (think: "Follow me ... to the BBQ pit!") comes at you with a giant mesquite smoked flavor from the first sip, swaddling it in sweet Scottish malts but clearly letting it be the star of the show. As the beer warms, the sweet and the charred intermingle more, giving you a mouth-filling taste of such magnitude that even the brewery's GABF-award-winning Graham Cracker Porter can't match.
William Wallace (think: "Follow me ... to the BBQ pit!") comes at you with a giant mesquite smoked flavor from the first sip, swaddling it in sweet Scottish malts but clearly letting it be the star of the show. As the beer warms, the sweet and the charred intermingle more, giving you a mouth-filling taste of such magnitude that even the brewery's GABF-award-winning Graham Cracker Porter can't match.
Brewer Charlie Berger stopped by the table to take my compliment on the beer but then mention that it might be the most polarizing beer that the 5-month-old brewery has concocted. (The comment seemed especially appropriate as The Beer Geekette, a Scotch ale fan, passed it off to me to drink because she couldn't take the smoke.) Yet, Charlie should take that as a compliment.
When you make a beer this heavy in flavor, some people are naturally going to turn away, asking for something that is plainly easier. Yet, I hope more breweries get the gumption to infuse mesquite smoke - or other flavors we as a beer community haven't yet thought of - to continually challenge our taste buds.
Labels: Alaskan Brewing, Australian beer, Denver Beer Co, SandLot Brewery
Friday, October 03, 2008
The Other Debate: Alaskan vs. Dogfish Head
Last night's debate didn't pit vice-presidential candidates from just any two states. It pitted representatives of two states with a great beer each. (For those of you following at home, that's one excellent nationally exported beer for each member of the U.S. House that Delaware and Alaska have.)
Coincidence? Maybe. But I surely thought this meant a head-to-head matchup between two of the breweries' products was necessary. And, of course, they should be judged only on issues of national importance that were brought up in that other debate.
Alaskan Winter Ale vs. Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale
Category 1: Richness (as in, economic questions)
Alaskan brings a lighter, easier touch that is about smoothness rather than any overwhelming punch. Dogfish is dark, sharp and, on the bittering back edge of the tongue has just the slightest spark of tartness. What's impressive is it's heavy without being too dense.
Category 2: Naturalness (as in, I'm trying to relate it to climate change)
There are no false flavors in the Alaskan, whose lightly hop-tinged goldenness was a classic brew with just a little more flavor than many American ales. Dogfish, meanwhile, presents us with a thicker brown than most, an earthy taste that feels conjured by skilled hands rather than just being allowed to produce itself during fermentation.
Category 3: The Surge of taste (yeah, I know this is stretching it a little)
Alaskan gives a mild smooth ride, nothing that sends a wall of flavor rushing at you. I'm not sure there is a surge here as much as the taste troops just waltz in gently and occupy your mouth. Dogfish Head, meanwhile, comes on like a quick strike and then sticks around. This is a booming brown and slightly bitter presence that echoes through the recesses of your mouth.
Category 4: Clarity (as in, somebody needs to give a clear answer)
Alaskan is golden and slightly translucent, natural and refreshing. Dogfish Head is dark but clean. It's certainly not a clear beer. Then again, it isn't doubling back on itself or ducking questions either.
Category 5: Achilles Heel (as in, a fair question for beers too)
Alaskan is a smooth, enjoyable beer, but it's also a little lighter than other winter ales, making its performance a little less memorable than, say, its excellent smoked porter. Dogfish Head concentrates on its malty, alcoholic darkness, so if you're looking for something to drink four of in a night, this ain't your session beer.
The winner: Well, it was me. I got to drink two good beers while watching an important debate. All elections should be this fun.
Last night's debate didn't pit vice-presidential candidates from just any two states. It pitted representatives of two states with a great beer each. (For those of you following at home, that's one excellent nationally exported beer for each member of the U.S. House that Delaware and Alaska have.)
Coincidence? Maybe. But I surely thought this meant a head-to-head matchup between two of the breweries' products was necessary. And, of course, they should be judged only on issues of national importance that were brought up in that other debate.
Alaskan Winter Ale vs. Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale
Category 1: Richness (as in, economic questions)
Alaskan brings a lighter, easier touch that is about smoothness rather than any overwhelming punch. Dogfish is dark, sharp and, on the bittering back edge of the tongue has just the slightest spark of tartness. What's impressive is it's heavy without being too dense.
Category 2: Naturalness (as in, I'm trying to relate it to climate change)
There are no false flavors in the Alaskan, whose lightly hop-tinged goldenness was a classic brew with just a little more flavor than many American ales. Dogfish, meanwhile, presents us with a thicker brown than most, an earthy taste that feels conjured by skilled hands rather than just being allowed to produce itself during fermentation.
Category 3: The Surge of taste (yeah, I know this is stretching it a little)
Alaskan gives a mild smooth ride, nothing that sends a wall of flavor rushing at you. I'm not sure there is a surge here as much as the taste troops just waltz in gently and occupy your mouth. Dogfish Head, meanwhile, comes on like a quick strike and then sticks around. This is a booming brown and slightly bitter presence that echoes through the recesses of your mouth.
Category 4: Clarity (as in, somebody needs to give a clear answer)
Alaskan is golden and slightly translucent, natural and refreshing. Dogfish Head is dark but clean. It's certainly not a clear beer. Then again, it isn't doubling back on itself or ducking questions either.
Category 5: Achilles Heel (as in, a fair question for beers too)
Alaskan is a smooth, enjoyable beer, but it's also a little lighter than other winter ales, making its performance a little less memorable than, say, its excellent smoked porter. Dogfish Head concentrates on its malty, alcoholic darkness, so if you're looking for something to drink four of in a night, this ain't your session beer.
The winner: Well, it was me. I got to drink two good beers while watching an important debate. All elections should be this fun.
Labels: Alaskan Brewing, Dogfish Head




