Beer of the Moment: Barrel Aged Rasputin

Being that it's winter, barrel-aged beer is commonplace here in Oregon. Just about every respectable brewery with cellar space has something aging in barrels these days (this is a major reason why something like the Tap & Growler's tasting is possible with local-only breweries).

So it stands to reason that I've had quite a few barrel-aged imperial stouts over the past few months. Everything from Bourbon County to Parabola. But there's one release I'd never managed to catch on draft, until now.

Barrel Aged Rasputin.

Now, North Coast's Old Rasputin is a world-class imperial stout all by itself. It's becoming easier to find on draft, even in its rarer (and somehow better still) nitrogenated form, but it's uncommon enough that it's an instant decision if I happen to see it somewhere and want an excellent stout.

The Barn Light was somehow able to secure a keg of the barrel-aged version, and I dutifully and eagerly showed up to partake.

Old Rasputin's such an excellent base beer that I was worried that the whiskey barrel version would somehow be lessened by addition, as it were.  Thankfully, a couple sips dispelled that notion.

Barrel Aged Rasputin is that rare whiskey-barrel beer that preserves all of the things I love about its base beer - the minerally, roasty flavor that's somehow light on the tongue, the lingering finish - and adds intrigue of its own. Most whiskey-aged beers add layers of caramel, oak, and sweetness that utterly dominate and override the base beer. Not so with Barrel Aged Rasputin. Here, the aging process adds a subtle whiskey/oak flavor to the roast, in a complimentary, cooperative fashion. I can't say enough good things about the deft, light touch and how much a breath of fresh air it is.

It's a beer well worth trying on draft. I imagine it's equally excellent out of the bottle.

Elysian's Buyout

So, some big news: Anheuser-Busch Inbev announced earlier this week that they've acquired Seattle-based Elysian Brewing. There aren't a whole lot of details available at the moment, but my reaction is much the same as when 10 Barrel sold to them last fall. 

I'm aware that AB has in the past used its clout and size to lobby for legislation that would benefit it to the detriment of smaller breweries. But this largely hasn't worked - and the craft market's grown faster, if anything. The execs at AB aren't fools - their light lagers are stagnant or losing sales every year. Small wonder, then, that they've been buying out breweries at an increasing rate, in order to make up for the slowdown elsewhere.

It's becoming clear that AB is targeting a very specific type of brewery: mid-sized, regional, critically acclaimed, and quickly expanding. With the craft segment of the beer marketplace still growing at an astonishing rate, Goose Island, 10 Barrel, and Elysian are very safe investments for a massive conglomerate like AB looking to get a piece of that growth. 

I have no doubt that AB has the people, resources, and money to launch their own full-craft brands. It would take time, effort, and might backfire if the ownership ended up mattering to enough people. Far easier, then, to buy outright some great breweries that already have established brands with hugely devoted fans.

From Elysian's end, this sale makes perfect sense. The owners were likely offered a great deal, allowing them to expand not only production volume, but also to distribute outside the Pacific NW (and rightly so - Elysian makes some really good beer, and it deserves to have as wide an audience as possible). It's looking like all the same brewers and other employees will be allowed to stay on, as was also the case with 10 Barrel's buyout.

As I said when 10 Barrel was bought last year, what really matters to me is the quality of the product. Who owns it isn't ultimately nearly as important.

Tap & Growler's Blind Barrel-Aged Tasting

Last week, the Tap & Growler had a bevy of barrel-aged release parties, but the highlight was definitely their hosted tasting, featuring barrel-aged beers from 10 local breweries. I was really looking forward to this.

Unfortunately, the beer didn't live up to my expectations.

Why? 'Barrel-aged' isn't really a good category for a blind tasting. A brewery can barrel-age just about anything - and the lineup for the tasting reflected that. There were IPAs, winter ales, a pumpkin beer, a Belgian-style dubbel, and others. Because of this diversity, there was no real standard for comparison between the beers.

I agreed with 2 of the top 3 selected by the rest of the public. The top beer was Oakshire's - their bourbon-aged Very Ill Tempered Gnome had the best blend of whiskey flavors and a good base beer to soak them up. Second was Viking's sour red (the name of which I wasn't able to find) - I was pleasantly surprised to see they're working in sours. The barrel-aging wasn't really detectable (so I suppose it fails in that respect), but it was a respectable and very tart and bready sour. In third was Hop Valley's Oakeroo - a very sweet, malty winter warmer. I wasn't as fond of it - my third place was Agrarian's Cucurbita Maxima - a pumpkin beer without the usual hit of nutmeg, cinnamon, and brown sugar.

The (perhaps unintended) result? The breweries that did well in public voting are ones we already know can make excellent barrel-aged beer - namely, Oakshire and Hop Valley. The others mostly came off as amateurish and flawed.

I hope that Tap & Growler continues to do these blind tastings - they're a lot of fun and very informative. I just wish they'd stick with style-based flights so there's some way to directly compare the beers.

Pliny, Sticky Hands, and Enjoy By

The 16 Tons Taphouse is hosting a double IPA-based event that's providing a great opportunity to try 3 of Cascadia's best IPAs - Russian River's Pliny the Elder, Block 15's Sticky Hands, and Stone's Enjoy By 2.14.15 - side by side.

A couple of friends keyed me into the event, and I went this afternoon to check it out.

Stone's Enjoy By series has been that rare thing - a marketing-based gimmick that actually created a superior product. The 2.14.15 edition is extremely juicy, citrus-focused, and sweet, with the high alcohol content announcing itself mostly in the heavy mouthfeel.

Sticky Hands has had a number of iterations, usually focusing on different hop flavors and profiles. The one on offer at 16 Tons is of the more skunky, resin-forward ilk. For pure hop flavor, it's peerless, though the malt is necessarily on the lighter side.

Pliny almost needs no introduction. It's the definition of a well-balanced IPA - malt, hops, and alcohol working in nigh-perfect harmony. But interestingly, because of this balance and its characteristically clean finish, it ended up being the most forgettable among the three.

Being able to taste and compare 3 world-class double IPAs in a flight reveals interesting nuances in their flavor profiles. At base, they're all designed to be hop delivery vehicles, but the three breweries take a very distinct approach to achieving that end.

If you're in the area, I'd recommend checking this event out. It's running through tomorrow, officially, and I can't imagine Pliny will last much longer than that.

Lagunitas, Sierra Nevada, and Market Maturation

This week's big beer news involved a (hastily withdrawn) lawsuit filed by Lagunitas Brewing against Sierra Nevada, in response to a new beer/packaging announcement from SN.

Inside Scoop SF has a good summary of the situation, including pictures, and Tony Magee's twitter musings both before and after the lawsuit was withdrawn.

I'm curious about the broader implications this whole event might have for the brewing industry. By and large, craft brewers are very chummy - sharing recipes, resources, ingredients - and it's been this way essentially since the rebirth of the industry in the early to mid '80s. It's possible we're seeing the end of those times, in some respects, and the beginning of a new era where brewers see each other as business rivals first and friends/peers second.

There's been a lot of hand-wringing over craft's explosive growth, and whether the industry will turn ugly once we stop seeing double-digit yearly expansion, and some pessimistic craft followers are forever looking for signs that this cutthroat time has dawned. I don't think we're there yet.

My reasoning is this - even in Portland, the most beer-saturated city in the country, new breweries are popping up at a frankly astonishing rate (I've seen plans for at least half a dozen places under construction - all slated to open this year) . And at this point, I have no idea how many small brewers the city can comfortably accommodate. 80? 100? Regardless, I think if there's still room in Portland, the rest of the country's got a long way to go.

I don't believe that a mature market's going to look much different than it does now - you'll have your regional/national breweries like Stone, Sierra Nevada, and Deschutes, supplemented by lots of 7-10 barrel brewpubs and micros who only operate in one city or one state. I'm really looking forward to the time where I can travel to any medium-sized city in the country and be likely to find at least one local brewery. And I wouldn't be surprised if that becomes a reality within the next 10 years.

Growler Nation

A few days ago, I was in the Coburg Road neighborhood, and decided to check out Growler Nation, a place I'd often passed by but never visited.

Growler Nation's claim to fame is that they were the first growler-fill station to open in Eugene, way back in spring of 2013. Now, with half a dozen competitors, they're offering lots of cider, kombucha, and wine to round out the beer.

The space itself is pretty small, with a few large, well-appointed tables, a wall-length chalkboard, and a couple TVs. I went during a slow part of the afternoon, and so had plenty of time to take in the atmosphere.

Like most of these spots, Growler Nation offers flights, and that's what I opted for. Here's what I tried:

Boring Oatmeal Stout: A sweet and acidic take on the style, with a winning roasted finish. But it's a little thin, and the flavors before the finish don't really gel.

Pfriem Winter Ale: Surprisingly disappointing - very thin and watery, with some strange malt notes.

North Coast ACME California IPA: Super sweet and juicy, with perfume-like hops. I didn't think much of this one initially, but it grew on me.

Caldera Dry Hop Orange: This was actually less citrus-heavy than the North Coast, and it was noticeably buttery.

Ecliptic Arcturus IPA: A very balanced and dangerously drinkable NW IPA.

Georgetown Oharov Imperial Stout: Definitely on the sweeter side, with a medium body and smooth roast on the finish. A worthy representative of the style.

The beer didn't taste as fresh as I would have expected. There aren't many options for craft beer on Coburg Road - Sidebar is the only other place I can think of, and it's a much more traditional bar atmosphere. I wonder if the disappointment I felt towards some of the beers was due to their being served from old kegs. With 40 taps (12 of which are set aside for cider and kombucha), it's possible that they don't have enough business to turn over kegs fast enough to keep everything fresh.

Pricing is fairly standard for Eugene - growlers run $11-14, pints are generally $4.50, and flights are $6 for 4 or $8 for 6. There's some food on offer, too - light snacks and pizza imported from the excellent Mezza Luna. Happy hour runs 3-6 M-F, with a dollar off pints, and Tuesday and Thursday nights offer $1.50 off flights.

All in all, Growler Nation's a well-run place that probably deserves more attention than it gets. It's worth dropping by if you're in the Coburg Road area.

Mission Brewing's Packaging

Thanks to some fortuitous timing, at last week's Bigfoot dock sales I was able to secure a 12 pack of Mission Brewery's IPA.

My attention was attracted primarily to the packaging - the beer comes in 32oz(!) cans. I've since had the occasion to try it, and it's a decent IPA.

These cans are undoubtedly striking. But they worry me. They suggest a few potentially negative things about Mission and their goals.

First, let's be clear: 32oz is a ridiculous serving size for any beverage, especially one with alcohol. No one should be drinking a quart of craft beer at a time. I understand, say, the 16oz cans Hopworks uses - a pint serving is no different than what you'd get in a bar. But 2 pints at a time? No. Of course, you could share this with a friend or two, but then why not just pack it into 16oz cans or bombers?

The massive serving size implies something else. Namely, that Mission's beer is meant to be drunk in large quantities. It makes the beer seem similar to those awful 40oz bottles of malt liquor, which I'm sure isn't purposeful. And feeling related, even coincidentally, to malt liquor makes me think that Mission doesn't have a lot of respect for its beer or its customers.

And that seems ridiculous, because Mission's won quite a few awards for their beer, including some GABF medals. And from all accounts, their customers are quite happy with the beer and company both.

Really, the 32oz can feels gimmicky. It seems like the kind of thing that a brewery does because it can, not because it's a good idea. And the abovementioned implications do nothing positive for the beer or the brewery. Maybe Mission ought to reconsider.

Sam Adams, Mediocrity, and Craft Beer's Future

With the new year's arrival, I've been doing a lot of thinking about what 2015 might mean for the craft beer industry. I was pleased to see that Andy Crouch wrote a thought-provoking piece about Jim Koch and Sam Adams and their place in today's beer market. The article's long, but well worth the read.

The most revealing quote in the article, to me, was Deep Ellum's owner saying he wouldn't stock Boston Beer products because they're "mediocre" and "middle of the road".

I marvel at how far we've come.

Twenty years ago, Sam Adams was one of the few craft beers being widely distributed. It became wildly and widely successful - and rightfully so. It's sessionable, with a good light malt profile and a clean finish, and pairs well with just about everything. I'd hesitate to call it a mediocre beer by any standard.

But, as Crouch reveals, the craft industry has matured rapidly, especially in the past ten years. There are now more breweries in America than at any time since the Great Depression and Prohibition, making countless beers of nigh-limitless variety. Heck, in Eugene alone there's probably at least 100 distinct beers being brewed at any given time.

I think that Koch and Sam Adams have slowly become victims of their own success. The omnipresence of Boston Lager - it can reasonably be expected on tap at most non-craft-oriented bars and lounges around the country - means that it's easy to take for granted. For today's serious craft drinkers, there are now more interesting and flavorful options in easy reach; it's likely they're even being made locally.

And that's why places like Deep Ellum in Boston (or the Bier Stein in Eugene) probably won't have Boston Lager on tap. It's caught in an unenviable position - too bland and uninteresting for today's craft drinkers, and too malty and heavy for those who generally drink macro lagers. And it's a huge national brand in a time where the trend has been to focus on locality and supporting smaller businesses.