October, 2006
Just Because You Can...
"Any style of beer can be made stronger than the
classic style guidelines. The goal should be
to reach a balance between the style’s character and the additional
alcohol. The brewer must provide the base style that is being created
stronger and/or appropriately identify the style created (for example:
double alt, triple fest, imperial porter or quadruple Pilsener)."
That’s what Garrett Oliver read to our judging panel
at the Great American Beer Festival just two
days ago. We were getting ready to judge the "Other Strong Ale
or Lager" category, facing some big beers of 8% and up; Garrett
was the table captain. The whole point of the category was to cover
beers that had bulged out the top of their "base"
category, the so-called "imperial" or "double"
beers. (Get all the 2006 GABF winners here.)
I’m not against up-throttling beers. Doublebock
came along over a century ago, and has proven itself in the marketplace
and on my own happy tongue. More recently, double IPAs and double red
ales have proved popular enough to have been granted their own
categories. This category is kind of the proving ground for
super-sizing beers.
It was our job to test the mettle of these whoppers.
We faced imperial nut browns, double (or triple) pilseners, overcharged
malt liquors ("What’s this," I asked, "Olde English
1100?"), and super wits. It’s easy to make fun of beers
like this – and I have, in the past – but there were two disturbing
aspects in the beers entered in this category.
First, this is what passes for much of the vaunted
"innovation" in American brewing:
turning up the volume. Honestly, I realize that it’s not as simple
as just dumping in more malt. There are issues of yeast health, proper
attenuation, and maintaining drinkability. But come on. What we’re
talking about is a couple brewers sitting around and saying, "Damn,
wouldn’t it be cool if we made a bitter at 9%? Dude, that would
ROCK!"
Sorry, that’s not innovation.
It’s about as creative as making a burrito with twice the stuff. Sure,
you have to use a bigger tortilla, maybe even make them yourself to get
them big enough, and you have to put in more spices to balance the
additional beans and beef, but…putting more beans in a burrito
doesn’t make it something else. It’s just a bigger burrito.
I don’t mind bigger burritos. I
ate a couple whoppers while I was in Denver and I enjoyed them, much as
I enjoy a well-made big beer. But when a big burrito is full of undercooked
beans, or it’s blowing out through the ends because it’s
got too much stuff for the tortilla, or the ingredients aren’t fresh…it’s
not an imperial burrito, it’s just more sucky burrito to
plow through.
That’s the problem with some of these beers. They
just aren’t well-made, or even well-formulated. There are an
unfortunate number of these steroidal monsters that are flabby and
fat with malt. I tasted an overstrength sweet stout that used a
whacking great shot of hops to cover how overly sweet the fortifying
process had left it. Sweet stout with a big bitter finish? What the hell’s
that?
It’s a mess. There was a
"pilsner" that was hugely malty, and it was thick, heavy,
sweetly hoppy, almost syrupy. Are those words you want to hear
when you’re thinking about getting a pils? So many of these beers miss
the point. A super witbier? What is the best characteristic of a
witbier? It’s refreshing. An 8% beer is a lot of things, but
"refreshing" is not usually the descriptor that pops to mind.
I’ve said before that American brewers have swung
too far from the pure pleasures of lager
beers. We react against them because that’s what had hammered
beer variety almost completely flat in America, an unending sea of bland
lagers. But we’re throwing the baby out with the spargewater:
lagers are not necessarily bland, any more than ales are necessarily
interesting. Believe me, I judged American "hefeweizens" as
well, and that’s plenty bland.
I think we are making an equally big mistake in
swinging too far from the whole German model of brewing. The Germans don’t
do a lot of experimentation. They stick to making what they know,
and they put all their energy into making that the best, most consistent
way they know how. They don’t have a lot of variety in their
beers, it’s true, but the beers they do make are very well made.
I don’t think American brewers should stop
innovating. I also judged strong barrel-aged
beers, and although there were a few clinkers, this is a wonderful
category of beers, started only 10 years ago. But after tasting a shocking
number of beers that were tainted with diacetyl or DMS, beers
that were oxidized or simply stale, I do think that maybe we should remember
that it’s a good idea to master the basics before trying to
improvise too much.
We need to reach a compromise position between
the German model and the Belgian. Innovate, certainly, but keep your
focus on technique and solid formulation. Avoid the temptation to
throw in more malt or hops because it would be cool. As an old
girlfriend always used to say, just because you can, doesn’t mean you
should.
The beer that finally won the category’s gold medal
was a wheatwine from Rubicon in Sacramento. It was magnificent;
complex, rich, and not cloying or over-hopped. It was a well-thought
out beer. Innovative? Maybe not; wheatwines have been done
before, although they’re far from what I’d call a popular style. But
it was quite different, and definitely well-crafted. It was one
of the better beers I had last week. Way to go,
Rubicon.
