Trinity: Not to be slapped or slammed

By Amy Tindell

The day I was scheduled to fly back to Boston, my parents insisted on introducing me to a second Colorado Springs brewery, ever indulgent of their younger daughter’s penchant for exploring breweries as part and parcel to her travels. Thus, I found myself at Trinity Brewing Company, just around the corner from the red rock formations at Garden of the Gods Park.

image1

At Trinity, I learned that I’m a sucker for a barrel-room with an archway entrance made of books. Back in January 2013, the brewery asked patrons to bring in their unwanted hardcover books as a trade for beer, and used them to construct the archway. The barrel room itself holds many large wooden barrels salvaged from wineries and distilleries, and was constructed in the past year to expand the brewery’s sour and wild beer production.

image3
image5

The books and barrels are not the only parts of Trinity that have been repurposed. The pub is custom-built from nearly 100% recycled materials. Other environmentally-conscious practices include sourcing materials for the beer and “slow food” from local farms, and recycling all glass, plastic, and metal waste produced by the brewery. Trinity additionally donates spent grain and food compost for fertilization processes at the Ketchum Family Farm.

image7

After admiring the books and barrels, we ordered a beer flight and a “slow food” lunch to enjoy on the dog-friendly patio outside. Demonstrating their western tastes, my parents’ favorite was Flo, Trinity’s IPA, brewed with a blend of eight hop varieties and seven malts. This IPA features notes of pine and citrus, with light malty sweetness for balance. I preferred the Slap Your Mammy DIPA with its grapefruit flavors blending with the alcohol finish, although the piney bitterness became overwhelming for this east coaster after a few sips. My favorite was the Soul Horkey Ale, created from a recipe that combines English and Belgian brewing traditions. The aroma and taste both feature sweet dark fruit, caramel malts, yeast ester, and earthy hops, and the brew finishes with a smooth, almost creamy mouthfeel.

image9
image11

The two most interesting beers were the Saison Man and the Farmhouse Rusé. Trinity styles the Saison Man, a golden Belgian ale, as a “Post Industrial Session Saison.” Saison Man combines weyerman pilsen, rye, flaked wheat, flaked oats, spelt, and grains of paradise with Styrian Goldings and Czech Saaz hops, fermented with 2 farmhouse yeast strains and Drie Bretta. The result is a somewhat tart, lemony golden ale dominated by the barnyard funk of the Brett. The Farmhouse Rusé offers a cold weather option for saison lovers, with Colorado ingredients including Anaheim and Pueblo chiles from Mauro Farm in Pueblo and Bartlett pears from Pear Blossom Farms in Palisade. With the addition of cacao nibs, this saison features flavors of light fruit, dark chocolate bitterness, and roast, rounded out with a mild spicy heat. The 9.5% ABV adds a subtle sweetness and a clean finish.

image13

Trinity pays special attention to how its beer is served, and supports a campaign to “Kill the Pint Glass.” By offering different types of beer in different types of glassware or different size pours, the brewery ensures that all pours are based off the same profit margin percentage and promote responsible consumption. Thus, smaller pours may result from higher raw material costs, higher costs of guest beers, or higher alcohol content. Further, Trinity selects glassware to improve the tasting experience, allowing for better evaluation of head retention, color, and clarity, or in the case of snifters, concentrating CO2 for better aromatics. Trinity believes that “Beer is no longer a slap it in a mason jar and slam it down product,” and encourages others to “keep fighting the good fight.”

image15

With its sustainable business practices and attention to consumer experience, it’s not surprising that Trinity also encourages healthy habits in its employees and patrons. On Monday evenings, it hosts the “Soul Runners”, offering 3-4 mile or 8-mile group runs, followed by discounted beers, and a points system toward further discounts at Trinity and Colorado Running Co. I am still trying to convince my parents to check out Soul Runners for me, in hopes of another Trinity family outing the next Monday I am in town.

image17

Want some quality, purity, and sanity? Go back to school, Ivywild-style.

By Amy Tindell

Over the holiday, my parents brought me to a 97 year old Colorado Springs elementary school building in order to explore an 18 year old brewery. Ivywild School closed to students in 2009, but community members Joe Coleman, Mike Bristol, and Jim Fennell breathed new life into the neighborhood’s centerpiece with their vision of linking commerce and community through a focus on local businesses with sustainable practices, all thriving under one roof. This reincarnation of the elementary school continues as a community project, reflected in the garden beds waiting just outside, painted by camp classes at Millibo Art Theater located in the church across the street. The architects insisted that the repurposed space maintain its identity as a former elementary school, leaving intact its old-style, wide hallways, children’s art lining the walls, and the art teacher’s murals painted in the bathrooms.

image1
image3
image5

Bristol Brewing Company, Ivywild’s anchor tenant, has been a presence in Colorado Springs since 1994. The brewery believes strongly in contributing to local communities and does not distribute outside Colorado. Bristol crafts ales from only natural ingredients and strives to create beer that brings to mind “quality, purity, and sanity” in its imbibers. Bristol’s Community Ale program donates 100% of its proceeds to support local causes that improve lives of Colorado Springs citizens.
The move to Ivywild allowed Bristol to expand its operations to a new 34-barrel brewhouse custom-made by BrauKon in Bavaria, Germany. In addition to the brewhouse and fermentation room, Bristol maintains a pub with a growler station, an outdoor patio, a barrel-aging room, and behind the old elephant doors from the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, an event area called “The Wildcat Room” in honor of Ivywild’s mascot.

image7
image9

My parents and I chose a table at the pub, ordered some brats from the deli down the hall, and settled into a flight of Bristol’s five flagship beers – Laughing Lab Scottish Ale, Beehive Honey Wheat, Mass Transit Ale, Red Rocket Pale Ale and Compass India Pale Ale – along with the seasonal Christmas Ale. Laughing Lab, having won nine medals since the founding of the brewery in 1994, currently stands as the most decorated Colorado beer at the Great American Beer Festival. It boasts the slightly sweet, nutty, roasted flavors common to Scottish Ales, and feels smooth going down.

image11
image13

We all agreed that the Red Rocket Pale Ale and the Christmas Ale were the other standouts of the bunch. The pale ale starts and finishes with bitter hoppiness, but I enjoyed the grassy hop aroma and bready, earthy malt profile. The brew is quite light in the mouth, and almost watery in feel. As intended, the Christmas ale smells and tastes like Christmas. Bristol incorporates cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, cloves and molasses with 2-row, Crystal, Chocolate, and Black malts and Chinook hops into this beer. Its light body balances the diversity of ingredients to create a more drinkable brew than most holiday ales.

image15

In addition to Bristol Brewing Company, Ivywild is home to Fennell’s architecture group, three of Joe Coleman and the Blue Star Group’s food-centered projects, and other like-minded ventures.

image17

The Blue Star Group’s new ventures occupy the south wing of the school, focusing on local, handmade specialty offerings, including The Meat Locker, The Old School Bakery, and The Principal’s Office, a craft espresso/cocktail bar, which serves Bristol’s beers at night. At the Principal’s Office, a repurposed chalkboard forms the bar, and chains from playground swings support the wine racks hanging from the ceiling.

image19
image21

In between the brewery and the Blue Star Group, Hunt or Gather offers local fresh seasonal meats, cheeses, milk, produce, honeys, jams and other treats. Supported by the Pikes Peak Community Foundation, it seeks to rebuild the local food economy through educational programs and providing access to these goods to the surrounding community. Downstairs, where my mom once taught kindergarteners, The ModboCo school for the arts, founded by the Modbo art gallery in downtown Colorado Springs, will offer classes and workshops designed to “bring integrity, joy, and purpose to those who seek to learn about art.” Filling the last available space at Ivywild at the front of the former school, Bicycle Experience encourages cyclists to grab a snack and a brew while enthusiast co-owners Todd Hood and Bubba “Blaze” Hayes tune up their bikes.

image23

The Fennell Group, the architecture firm behind Ivywild’s transformation, occupies a space just down the hall from the Blue Star Group ventures. Also known for its projects at Air Force Space Command and the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center, the firm describes the new Ivywild as “a neighborhood multi-use infill development that is highly sustainable, promotes pedestrian activity, and revitalizes the identity of a neighborhood in decline.”

The architects envisioned attaining these goals through symbiosis, “the free exchange of byproducts among the various users in the proposed district that creates efficiencies for the benefit of everyone in the district.” For example, spent grains from the brewery will find a home at the bakery, which in turn will produce delicious breads and pretzels to be served at the brewery’s pub. Other brewing by-products, including grains and greywater, will contribute to irrigation and fertilization processes in the greenhouse at Ivywild and the community garden plots outside. Heat from the brewing process and the greenhouse will circulate to warm the building in winter months. This strategy of converting one venture’s waste into a neighbor’s resource is thought to reduce operating costs and energy demands, thus maximizing efficiencies for all at the Ivywild site.

image25

At Ivywild, these businesses and their sustainable practices certainly live up to Bristol Brewing Company’s emphasis on quality, purity, and sanity in their lifestyle and their products. I’m pretty sure we can all use a little more of all three, so if you find yourself in the Colorado Springs area, make a point to take advantage of all that this feel-good destination has to offer.

image27

Grateful Harvest: A New England Beer Tradition

By Robin Coxe

Had I gotten my act together earlier, I would have written this post prior to Thanksgiving, but better late than never…

grateful_harvest

Since its inception in 2010, Grateful Harvest, a cranberry amber ale, has overtaken UFO Hefeweizen as my favorite beer from Boston’s own Harpoon Brewery. The fact that my family plays a small part in the Grateful Harvest story reinforces this opinion. Local cranberry grower A.D. Makepeace Company of Wareham, MA donates the cranberries for each batch.

adm_logo

As it happens, I was adopted by WASPs at the tender age of 4 months, which explains why my name is Robin Coxe and not Young-Mee Park. My family has been in Massachusetts since the dawn of time (well, 1630 or so). My paternal grandmother’s maiden name is Makepeace, a name subsequently bestowed on my father and brother as a middle name. My great uncle Russell was the CEO of A.D. Makepeace Company, the family cranberry business, from 1946-1983. A.D. Makepeace is the largest landowner in Eastern Massachusetts and is still the world’s largest cranberry grower in spite of fierce competition in recent years from cranberry concerns in Canada and Wisconsin. My brother currently serves on the Board of Directors. In addition to funny ads featuring cranberry farmers, the Ocean Spray cranberry cooperative has a conference room named in honor of Abel Makepeace, Russell’s grandfather, in its corporate headquarters in Lakeville, MA. I drank countless gallons of cranberry juice growing up and actively disliked orange juice until I was well into my 20s.

abel_makepeace

In the current age of wacky diet fads, cranberries get a bad rap for not being edible by humans without added sugar. Nevertheless, they happen to be rich in antioxidants and are thought to stave off heart disease. The cranberry was the key component of pemmican, referred to in a recent National Geographic piece as “the original energy bar, 400 years before anyone knew what a superfood was.” A staple of the Native Americans that populated New England prior to the arrival of the Pilgrims in the early 17th century, the cranberry has retained a prominent place on the Thanksgiving table, primarily in the form of a gelatinous sauce. To quote Martha Stewart: “Thanksgiving dinner would not be complete without the customary cranberry.” Harpoon Brewery agrees: “We brew Grateful Harvest because we love Thanksgiving here in New England and thought a cranberry ale would be a perfect beer for the occasion.”

This seasonal beer is available from mid-October through December. For every six-pack of Grateful Harvest sold, Harpoon donates $1 to the local food bank in the area in which the beer was purchased through the Harpoon Helps program, which has a most excellent motto: To Brew and To Serve. Unlike its overwrought watermelon and pumpkin-flavored cousins that rear their ugly heads earlier in the year, Grateful Harvest is a smooth, malty concoction with hints of fruitiness balanced nicely by the signature cranberry tartness and bitter notes from the hops. At 5.9% ABV and 30 IBUs, Grateful Harvest has garnered accolades for its drinkability and refreshing character. Many people to whom I’ve served Grateful Harvest comment that they were struck by the subtlety of the flavor profile; if they hadn’t seen the label or been told the backstory, they wouldn’t necessarily have guessed that it contained the essence of puréed cranberries.

So, if you live in New England, hurry down to your local packie and pick up a six-pack of Harpoon Grateful Harvest before it disappears from the shelves until next Thanksgiving.

Be Santa’s Little Beer Helper

By Amy Tindell

You’ve been so good this year: you got a raise at work, you supported your family and friends, and you started your holiday shopping early. Indeed, the only remaining entry on your shopping list is that crazy beer friend, and a six-pack just isn’t going cut it. Fear not, for you can finish off that year of “good” with a bang.

*** She needs her beer right now. ***
Does your beer aficionado always want things right away? Might she be a tad bit impatient? Then try the Corkcicle Chillsner Beer Chiller, so she never has to wait for a cold beer.

*** He’s a slow drinker. ***
Are you sometimes three drinks in, while your buddy continues to nurse his first beer? Do you also secretly believe that a beard would add some dignity to his look? The Beerd Can Beer Cozy is sure to make both of you happy.

*** She combines her hobbies. ***
Does your friend balance her beer consumption with trips to the gym? Does she already own one of these? Make sure she is prepared for her next “booze cruise” with a beer cycling jersey!

*** He likes the science-y part of beer. ***
Does your beer sipping friend regale you with endless tales of his laboratory prowess? In his free time, does he muse about microorganisms and optimal fermentation temperatures? Reward his scientific curiosity with the Brooklyn Brew Beer Making Kit.

***She wants to learn more about agri-brewing. ***
Have you ever heard your friend talk lovingly about the garden on her fire escape? Does she also brew her own beer? Give her a head start on her next brew day, with the Grow It Beer Hops Kit.

*** He documents his drink. ***
Have you ever caught your friend furiously writing notes about his beer on a napkin? Might he need some guidance in properly recording his deep thoughts on mouthfeel and aroma? Gift him with the Moleskine Beer Journal, and he’ll never forget a beer again.

*** She prefers her soap to be naturally beery. ***
Does your fellow malt imbiber constantly scan product labels for natural ingredients? Does she like to support craft breweries? Support her in achieving both lofty goals with this beer soap.

*** He plays games. ***
Is your hophead part of your Monday night trivia team? Does he obsess about beer minutiae? Feed his nerdgasm with the Beer Nerd Trivia Game, and your team will thank you for it.

*** He likes to have all the proper accoutrements. ***
Have you ever noticed that your friend has the right tool for everything? Does he always use the correct fork at fancy dinners? Make sure he’s drinking his beer “properly” with these beer glasses.

*** Her dog likes beer too. ***
Would your friend prefer to drink in the company of her trusted canine companion? Do you get jealous when she chooses to stay home with her dog instead of drinking beer with you? Next time, invite Fido along, but make sure you are prepared with Brew Bones.

There you have it. Don’t be a Mad Elf – instead be Santa’s Little Helper. Who knows what rewards will come your way just for being good?

Beer’s oldest new darling: Brett the British Fungus

By Amy Tindell

Watch out hops: yeast is about to become beer’s new darling. More commercial breweries, and home brewers, are experimenting with this living part of beer. Yeast wranglers are making a name for their trade, and inspiring scientific creativity in producing signature flavors in beers.

One yeast that seems to be drawing renewed attention is Brettanomyces. Brettanomyces, nicknamed Brett by those who work alongside it, is a non-spore forming genus of yeast in the family Saccharomycetaceae. In the wild, Brett lives on the skins of fruit, and when grown in the lab with large amounts of glucose, can produce acetic acid. Some know it as “wild yeast;” I know it as the “Belgiany” part of Belgian beers.

Brett was discovered in 1904 at the Carlsberg brewery. An employee identified the yeast as a potential cause of spoilage in English ales, forever relegating it to be known by the Greek term for “British fungus.” Indeed, brewers traditionally avoid Brettanomyces as a contaminant and source of unwelcome flavors. In particular, Brettanomyces produces three compounds with high sensory profiles – 4-ethyl phenol, 4-ethyl guaiacol and isovaleric acid– as it eats the sugars in the brew. 4-ethyl phenol is the culprit behind those “band-aid” and barnyard aromas that some beers feature, and 4-ethyl guaiacol gets credit for the bacon, smoky, spicy, and burnt wood smells. Isovaleric acid and its esters produce a fruity quality in a beer at best, but in certain quantities can lend sweaty, barnyard, smoky, or cheesy/rancid qualities to the brew.

Brettanomyces may be used alone or in combination with other microorganisms in the fermentation process. Lambics and Flanders red ales, for example, are fermented with a traditional brewer’s yeast like Saccharomyces along with Brett. Saccharomyces performs most of the heavy lifting, eating most of the sugar, and finishes its work early. In contrast, the wild yeast Brett evolved to eat wood sugars, and thus can process more complex sugars, working slowly. Thus, Brett does not require great quantities of sugar, and in a controlled environment where it will not dry out the beer over time, can produce some unique and desirable flavors.

100% Brett fermentation continues to be an experimental practice with less predictable results than fermenting with traditional brewing yeasts. Because Brett will consume almost all the sugars in a beer, surviving for months or years in the fermenter or in a bottle, the brew has the potential to become very dry. Brewers also use Brett, a capable CO2 producer, to bottle condition beers. However, brewers must use caution because that continued activity of Brett can increase carbonation over time, risking the creation of “bottle bombs.”

In addition to the more traditional styles of Cantillon Rosé de Gambrinus, Liefmans Brown Ale, and Duchesse de Bourgogne, all brewed in Belgian breweries, American breweries including Port Brewing Company, Russian River Brewing Company, Sierra Nevada Brewing Company, and New Belgium Brewing Company have all fermented beers with Brettanomyces bruxellensis. Those who appreciate Brett’s work describe these beers as slightly sour and earthy in smell and taste; others may highlight the “barnyard” or “wet horse blanket” characteristics. To find out where you fit in, try one of these beers: you, too, may embrace the “British fungus.”

Barley Wine = Oxymoron

By Amy Tindell

When a barley wine is on tap, the bartender inevitably fields the question, “Is this a beer or a wine?” more than once. A good bartender will be able to explain the differences between the two beverages in interesting and accurate detail. I, on the other hand, was prepared only to reply something along the lines of: “Well, it’s made with grain, and not fruit, so I’m pretty sure it’s a beer.” While accurate, the explanation left a lot to be desired, so I promised to investigate the matter further.

In brief, barley wine is a sweet, malty ale with an alcohol strength between 8-14% by volume and brewed with specific gravities as high as 1.120. Barley wines are not hoppy and feature flavors of dark fruits, sweet malts and sherry, and may acquire woody notes from barrel aging.

“Barley wine” originated in England in the nineteenth century, coined by the Burton brewery of Bass, Ratcliff, and Gretton as a label for its Bass No. 1 Ale. Rumor has it that Bass and others developed the ale for British aristocrats who had developed a taste for strong alcoholic beverages, but were deprived of French wine due to the many conflicts between England and France during the Second Hundred Years’ War. The aristocrats kept barley wine to themselves for years, but it was eventually marketed by Bass to all alcohol lovers. Unfortunately, shortly afterwards, Great Britain decided to tax higher-gravity beer at a higher rate, thus reducing the number of breweries that could brew a barley wine and continue to stay in business.

While the ingredients, equipment, and process of brewing a barley wine are essentially the same as brewing a typical ale, a brewer uses different quantities of ingredients and applies different techniques to certain process steps. For example, to get that strong malt character and ABV, a brewer adds 3-4 times the normal amount of malt per gallon to the brew. Also, the boil time for the wort is usually longer, concentrating it to achieve that high gravity.

Further, most brewers recommend using an especially strong, healthy yeast that can survive the high-alcohol environment and pitching 2 to 2.5 times the regular yeast pitching weight for a typical American Pale Ale, which has ~1.050 original gravity. Due to the large quantities of sugar and yeast, the active fermentation step must be tracked carefully, adjusting temperature and even stirring the brew if necessary to rouse the yeast. Once the active fermentation is complete, the barley wine should be left at a fermentation temperature of between 66 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit for 1-3 weeks. During this period, the yeast eliminates undesirable fermentation by-products such as diacetyl, which adds a “slippery” mouthfeel and buttery taste. Then, a brewer will chill the brew to 34-38 degrees, for 90 days to a few years. Sometimes, this “cold storage” step takes place in wooden barrels to impart more complex flavors on the brew.

In the late 1960s and 1970s, the concept of beer experienced a revival, and the barley wine style benefitted from this renewed interest. In the U.S., both Anchor Brewing and Sierra Nevada in California began brewing barley wines in the mid-1970s. Today, with the proliferation of craft beer, there are many more choices, and the upcoming winter months create the perfect environment to cozy up with a barley wine. Locally, you might seek out Pretty Things Our Finest Regards, Smuttynose Barleywine Ale, or Berkshire Brewing Company Raspberry Barley Wine Style Ale… Just remember that the high ABV might prevent you from venturing too far after the indulgence, so grab that nice glassware, start the fire, put your feet up, and make a night of it.

The Rising Tide of Portland’s Beer Scene

By Amy Tindell

The Portland that’s beloved by those of us on the East Coast is the land of lobsters and chowder (though not necessarily pronounced as spelled), lighthouses, and in more recent years, breweries. The beer scene has grown sufficiently to support an entire Beer Week, complete with running tours, a beer bus, and a scavenger hunt.

I recruited a Portland resident wise in local businesses and politics, and lured a survivor of my springtime NoVa Brewtopia Weekend across the Mason-Dixon line, to join me in this celebration of New England hops and malt concoctions. Upon arrival in Portland, our first move, naturally, was to fortify ourselves with seafood chowder and a lobster roll at Gilbert’s, followed by a delicious dark chocolate & sea salt treat from The Holy Donut. The taps at Gilbert’s incorporate the nautical theme of the chowder house and feature beers made within a 5 mile radius of the city.

photo1

Our bellies prepped, we decided to focus on Rising Tide Brewing Company, open since 2010 and now brewing in the diverse East Bayside neighborhood. The brewery is family-owned and specializes in artisanal ales brewed in small batches, all unfiltered, unpasteurized, and bottle conditioned. Having beaten the brew bus to the bar by mere seconds, we quickly ordered our tasting flights, which included Ishmael, Armada, Daymark, and Ursa Minor.

photo2
photo3

Rising Tide identifies Ishmael as an “American Copper Ale,” but some may call it a German-style altbier with American hops. The nose and taste are similar, with caramel, grain, and malt notes, starting off slightly sweet on the tongue and finishing a touch on the bitter side. I found it lighter, in mouthfeel and in flavor, than some altbiers I’ve tried recently. The second taste, Armada, is the brewery’s American Brown Ale, with a strong malt flavor balanced by a bitter finish, and also on the light side in mouthfeel.

Halfway through our flights, we decided to re-fortify with snacks – and to create some distance from the newly arrived running tour – by venturing to the foodtruck parked outside. Rising Tide invites foodtrucks every Saturday to complement its beers, this week featuring El Corazon, which offers locally sourced taquitos, tamales, and burritos. We displayed our best manners, dining with one hand holding the food and the other tossing sandbags.

photo4

Rising Tide’s Daymark, the third brew of our flight, is its flagship American Pale Ale with a rye twist. It pours in hazy golden tones, with scents of flower and citrus hops. The Columbus and Centennial hops add a citrus bite to the flavor as it hits the tongue, but the flavor transforms with the peppery bitterness of the rye. These more aggressive tastes are balanced by earthy malts that add sweetness to the brew. Rising Tide takes pride in sourcing the rye from local farms and malting it at artisanal Valley Malt in Hadley, Massachusetts.

The final taste came in the form of a Weizen Stout called Ursa Minor. The brew appears smooth and black-brown in color, with aromas of dark fruit and roasted malts. The taste also has dark fruit notes, but features in addition coffee, chocolate, and sweet roast flavors, with only a small wheat bite. This Weizen Stout is thinner than you’d expect, but I did not find that to be a bad thing. Ursa Minor was interesting and much more drinkable than I’d anticipated… I’d like to try it again, in fact, because I was distracted during the tasting by the equipment that made it – a custom-built fifteen-barrel brew system that produces about 120 barrels per month.

photo5

Our flights drained, we completed our journey with T-shirts and a few bottles to enjoy later. Happily for Rising Tide, we started a merchandise trend with the bus tour and the running tour – what is beer week about if not spreading the love?

photo6

San Francisco Treats

By Amy Tindell

I recently spent 12 (long) hours on a plane to enjoy 48 (spectacular) hours in San Francisco. My previous visit in 2012 provided a thorough education in Napa wine and food, but this year, my friends made it their mission to indulge one of my favorite hobbies: beer tourism. Anchor Brewing Company, approximately 5 blocks from their house in Potrero, is closed on weekends, so I had to satisfy myself with a pilgrimage to gaze upon the building without the privilege of tasting on the premises.

anchor_pic

I consoled myself with the thought that my efforts were better-focused on tastes I couldn’t find on the East Coast anyway. Accordingly, our first destination was Bar Bocce in Sausalito. While not a “beer bar,” it features several local beers, cocktails designed for a life of leisure, and a food menu offering pizzas and seaside snacks, packed with trendy ingredients like kale and bacon. The bar’s beacon is its patio, situated on the water, complete with a firepit and sand bocce court. The patio’s ambience is topped off by tables of Sausalito girls sporting puffy jackets and scarves who refuse to allow the waiters to turn off the overhead heaters in the 68 degree weather.

sausalito

Undeterred by the 68 degree chill, we tasted two local beers along with our kale and bacon. The first was Hangar 24 Orange Wheat. Hangar 24 Craft Brewery, located in Redlands, CA, was founded on a shared love for beer and aviation. Its Orange Wheat brew is crisp and light, but not very wheat-y or cirtrus-y, with muted flavors. While I prefer less subdued flavor, it would be an appropriate complement to a hot summer day, and drinking it has the added benefit of supporting local agriculture: the brewery adds local oranges purchased from an orange conservancy throughout the brewing process.

orangewheat

Headlands Brewing Company, situated nearby in Marin, provided our next beer in the form of a Pt. Bonita Rustic Lager. Headlands takes what some craft beer snobs think when they hear “lager” and adds a lot of flavor, in the form of hop spiciness (Liberty, Saaz and Crystal), a solid 4-malt backbone (2-Row, Pilsner, Munich, and Rye), and a healthy 6.2% ABV. The result is something between a Pilsner and a pale lager, boosted further by a surprising yet pleasing alcohol finish. This lager is named for the Point Bonita Lighthouse in the Marin Headlands, a “guiding light for ships full of prospectors, immigrants, pirates, sailors and cargo for over 150 years,” and reflects the Brewery’s focus on entrepreneurism, responsible business practices, and community spirit. (Reflecting my own community spirit, I take my hat off to Patrick Horn, CEO of Headlands Brewing Company, and fellow graduate of WPHS in Virginia.)

Next, I walked in to the DogPatch Saloon, sidled up to the bar, and asked the bartender for whatever I couldn’t get in Boston. His response involved a delicious concoction based on Bender’s Rye Whiskey, crafted in San Francisco and aged seven years. Moving on to the taps, the bartender recommended Speakeasy Double Daddy. Speakeasy, another brewery after my own heart, “harbors a love for the sinister and the underground,” and true to its roots, the Butchertown tasting room is “designed as a wood-paneled basement hideaway.” Its Double Daddy, an imperial IPA, pours a light golden color with amber hues, and smells of caramel malts and citrus hops. The taste follows with similarly balanced flavors, and with very little of the sweetness that imperial IPAs often offer. The lack of alcohol sweetness made the finish of Double Daddy bitter for my taste, but I reminded myself that hop dominance is all part of the West Coast experience.

beertaps

When two dogs entered the saloon with their owners and settled around a nearby table, the bartender explained to me that many local establishments welcome canine companions, in homage to the neighborhood’s historical reputation as a gritty, industrial area with roaming packs of dogs. Currently, the neighborhood maintains some of that industrial grit, but has developed a reputation for inspiring entrepreneurship and innovative ideas. I decided to finish off my beer with my new friends.

dogs

As with many San Francisco adventures, our last stop was in Haight. The Magnolia Gastropub and Brewery charms the corner of Haight and Masonic, offering a full menu that would intrigue any self-respecting foodie, in addition to a diverse selection of draught and cask beers. The menus themselves delightfully portray brewing specifications for historical beers.

magnolia1
magnolia2

I ordered Sara’s Ruby Mild, winner of a gold medal at the 2009 Great American Beer Fest. An English Dark Mild Ale, the beer indeed pours deep ruby in color, with little foam. Sara’s smells and tastes principally of raisin and other dried fruit, with a bready, caramel malt sweetness, giving the beer a toasty, biscuit flavor. The brew features a hint of bitterness, but overall it is light, smooth, and very drinkable.

magnolia3
magnolia4

Our waiter confirmed the rumor that Magnolia is planning a new location in the DogPatch, approximately 3 blocks from my friends’ house. I’ve made it my goal to return when it opens… After all, I left my heart – at least the part of it that yearns to see dogs in bars, beer brewing daily, and new cheese shops popping up behind formerly barred windows – in San Francisco.

Chronicles of an Accidental Bartender

By Robin Coxe

meh

The Backstory

On Thursday evenings, I emerge from the electrical engineering nerd cave in which I spend most of my waking hours and moonlight as a volunteer bartender. Yes, such a thing actually exists. I dispense alcoholic beverages to those with an entrepreneurial bent gratis out of the goodness in my heart. Inspired by the eponymous 2002 book by Teresa Esser, the Venture Café is a networking event featuring free craft beer and wine for the Boston-area startup community that takes place every Thursday from 3-8 pm sponsored by Cambridge Innovation Center in Kendall Square, home to several hundred early-stage tech companies. The brainchild of Tim Rowe, CEO of CIC, and Carrie Stalder, a MIT Sloan graduate and former aerospace engineer, the Venture Café began operations in 2010.

I first heard about the Venture Café through the startup grapevine soon after moving back to Boston from Los Angeles. Although hobnobbing is hardly my strong suit, I somehow managed to secure several consulting contracts, one of which eventually morphed into my current job with a CIC client company, as a consequence of fortuitous conversations with people that I met at the Café. After I had gotten the lay of the land and established myself in the community, I felt impelled to do some small part to ensure that others could continue to benefit from the unique environment of Venture Café.

The first test of worthiness for all new Venture Café volunteers is to take some greeter shifts. A visitor to the Café enters his or her email address and a password or authenticates with a CIC keycard on a laptop at a kiosk set up in the hallway next to the 5th floor elevator bay. The sign-in app enables attendees to connect their LinkedIn profiles to their Venture Café accounts and to log on to the website and view the other guests at the Café on any given week. Greeters shepherd people through the sign-in process, check IDs and stamp hands of those of legal drinking age, explain the Venture Café concept to newbies, and give rundowns on the weekly schedule of the events. If the process proceeds according to plan, a label printer disgorges nametags with a number in parentheses indicating the number of times individuals have attended the Café.

When I informed my father that I was embarking on this endeavor, his response was, “I’m glad to hear it. That means that you’ll actually have to talk to people.” Basking in the warm glow of parental support, I did my time as a greeter for several months. Suffice it to say that it was a character-building experience and there is a damn good reason that I am not a hostess at a chain restaurant. At this point, I may well be the world expert at debugging the label printers. Ankle surgery necessitated a several month hiatus from volunteering at Venture Café in the winter and spring of 2012.

One day while I was still wearing The Boot on my left foot and clomping around on crutches with a thermos of Peet’s French roast strapped to my back, I learned that CIC was offering ServeSafe training for Café volunteers interested in becoming qualified as bartenders. On a whim, I signed up. Our instructor, a jocular off-duty cop from Quincy, ensured that we all passed the multiple-choice test with flying colors after watching unintentionally comedic video vignettes on one’s responsibilities and potential liabilities as a bartender. I’m convinced that the training videos featured the same C-list actors as the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act webinar that the Legal Department made me watch exhorting me not to bribe foreign officials. The ServeSafe takeaway: bartenders can be held personally liable for mayhem wrought by patrons we have over-served. Consequently, we have the right to refuse service at our discretion, but drunk people can be volatile, so having large men around and 911 on speed dial has the potential to make our lives easier.

Several weeks later, certification in hand, I took the plunge and signed up for a bar shift. Amy, Greg, and Shahin showed me the ropes—how to avoid pouring a cup of foam, how to change an empty keg, how to strategically position kegs and white wine in the kegerator, etc. I soon discovered that I had joined what is undoubtedly the most overeducated bartending team in Greater Boston, or possibly the entire universe. Between the four of us, we have 3 Ph.D.s in science and engineering, a J.D., and a masters degree in neuroscience.

In spite of, or perhaps because of 3 degrees in physics, when I first stepped behind the bar, I knew next to nothing about beer other than I liked most of it. Nuggets of wisdom imparted by Venture Café Bar Manager and beer geek extraordinaire Amy, some strategic book purchases on Amazon, a subscription to Beer Advocate, and liberal sampling of the beer on offer soon rectified that situation. However, given that I have a vast preference for malt and hops over fermented grape juice, my general ignorance of wine persists. I have only the vaguest notion of how (or if) wankerish wine-speak translates into flavor sensations. I am of the general opinion that the wine we serve tastes like swill, which may or may not actually be true. I discovered at the Wine Expo earlier this year that I have a penchant for expensive wine. Budgetary constraints dictate that all of the wine at Venture Café must cost less than $10/bottle, which could explain a lot. When people ask me for wine recommendations, my magic formula involves picking randomly and endorsing emphatically. No one has ever complained.

Although hardly surprising in hindsight, the most revelatory aspect of this volunteer bartending gig has been the often snark-inducing and occasionally downright bizarre observations of human behavior under the influence of moderate amounts of alcohol.

Uncommon Courtesy

In my experience, rudeness to people in service professions tends to indicate a misplaced sense of entitlement and an excessive self-regard. But before stepping behind the bar at Venture Café, I had only infrequently been on the receiving end of blatant impoliteness of this nature. Although we have never taken an exact count, I estimate that less than 40% of people who come up to the bar for a beverage bother to say “please” and/or “thank you.” When someone fails Politeness 101, the first thought that pops into my head is: “Who are your parents?” followed by flashbacks to the late 1970’s of my mother’s withering stares when my brother and I failed to mind our manners.

To make a sweeping, yet accurate generalization, women are, on average, significantly more polite than men. (On a typical Thursday, approximately 70-80% of the visitors are male.) The rudest ones tend to be either between the ages of 21 and 28 or over 50. Every week, at least five of the most egregious offenders cannot even bring themselves to ask for a specific beer. They grunt incomprehensibly and point, often ambiguously, at one of the taps. It would be much more entertaining for yours truly if they could at least come out with: “Me caveman. Me want beer! Ooga wooga!” One day, after an unusually long string of verbally challenged patrons, I exclaimed, exasperated: “Use your words!”

Sometimes when the Café gets very crowded (around 6 pm on sunny days when venture capitalists are holding office hours or some organization is sponsoring food), the frenzied din of conversation makes it difficult to hear people when they actually do speak up and order a drink. I can provide one piece of helpful advice to Café patrons in such a situation: repeating the name of the wine you would like in a bad French accent at increasingly high volume will not help your cause.

The under-30 set seems to favor the direct, yet boorish method of ordering beer: “Give me a Slumbrew IPA.” Sometimes, I am tempted to answer: “No.” I restrain myself, but usually cannot fully suppress an incredulous look as I hand over the beer. The percentage of the recipients who say thank you is in the single digits after demanding a beer in this manner.

Some of our more recalcitrant visitors have been brainwashed by the marketing machines of the likes of Miller-Coors and Anheuser-Bush InBev into believing that mass-produced light lagers constitute good beer. One day about 3 months ago, a gentleman in his mid-50s walked up to the bar and declared: “None of the beer you serve satisfies me.” As it happened, it was his lucky day. A Dutch economic development organization had sponsored a portion of the beer that day. “I’m sorry to hear that. Here, have a Heine,” I said, working very hard to keep my eyebrows from spontaneously raising themselves. He beamed and responded: “That’s more like it!” Whatever floats your boat, I suppose.

At least twice a day, a younger guy asks for a porter or a stout without knowing that these dark brews tend to be full-bodied and have strong flavor profiles. He skulks back to the bar several minutes later with a disgusted look on his face, deposits his almost-full Vegware cup on the bar, and says something to the effect of: “This beer is undrinkable. Take it back and give me something else.” To which I reply, “Here, have our lightest beer… You’re welcome!”

Pro Tip: if you want a bartender to like you, don’t be a jackass.

Newark Beer

By Amy Tindell

I optimistically inquired of Google where a girl might find some adventure in Newark, NJ prior to a recent business trip there. Google showed me only sites advertising establishments that had closed within the past two years, or advising me to take the 12-minute train ride to NYC. In case I had doubts about Newark’s coolness, Selena Gomez was to perform in Newark the night I arrived.

Not quite dissuaded, I ended up at the Dinosaur BBQ downtown, conveniently located between my firm and the hotel. Indeed, there were two (2) beers that I had not yet tasted, both from the Garden State itself. If that is not adventure, I don’t know what is.

My first order, eliciting a smile from the bartender, who had just served 6 Bud Lights, was for a Flying Fish Hopfish. Flying Fish Brewing Company was founded on the Internet in its early days, around 1995, as a “virtual brewery.” It seems that the Founder, Gene Muller, used the website to advertise the brand and raise money for the brewery, before producing his first beer in September 1996. Muller’s idea was to “give beer lovers a chance, via their computers, to roll up their cyber-sleeves and … help select and name beers, design t-shirts and labels, volunteer to be a taste-tester and even apply for a job as a brewer.” IRL*, Flying Fish is located in Somerdale, NJ and now the largest craft brewery in the state.

Flying Fish produces four full-time beer styles, in addition to its seasonal beers. It prides itself on balance, a quality much appreciated by a non-hophead ordering an IPA in the US. Hopfish does feature a healthy hop bitterness, but as advertised, this IPA is balanced by a healthy, slightly sweet, malt backbone that marries American, English, and German malts. The finish has a floral, citrus quality thanks to extensive dry hopping with 22lbs of Nugget Hops. Though not meant for a West Coast hophead, this tasty IPA certainly contributed to the night’s adventures for this (balanced) American girl.

My next adventure (read: order), copied by my now-intrigued tablemates, was a Kane Overhead Imperial. Kane Brewing Company was built in Ocean Township, NJ, and got its start in 2011, after its Founders spent years in B-school, wearing suits, and touring the world’s breweries. The brewery specializes in American- and Belgian-style ales, sold only in central and northern NJ. The Overhead Imperial pours a dark gold, slightly amber color, and thanks to several hops additions (Columbus, Amarillo, Simcoe, Centennial), smells of citrus and tropical fruit. The aroma does not mislead, as the taste fronts with a heavy dose of tropical and citrus fruits and bitterness, but the brew is balanced by sweet malts, caramel and pine notes, and a pronounced grapefruit and alcohol finish. Overall, it was a very enjoyable DIPA (Double India Pale Ale).

So there you have it: even in Newark, one may find hitherto unknown tastes. And who knows what further adventures await on the walk home?

*IRL = in real life