Guess Who's Coming to (Beer) Dinner

One very welcome trend on the rise recently in urban culture is the event known as the beer dinner, often also called the beer-pairing dinner. Print, broadcast and online media love the idea, as it provides a simple and cheap human-interest piece, all the time showcasing such image-friendly items as fine dining and craft beer.

Many restaurants and pubs are just now becoming aware of both the appeal of and business opportunity for pairing craft beer with food. The concept is terribly simple, yet subtle: a multi-course meal is prepared, and each course is paired with a specific beer or beer style. Sometimes it is in conjunction with a local or regional brewer or central theme, and sometimes it is simply composed of a thoughtful mix of commercially available craft beers.

It may be easier to simply list what a beer dinner entails than attempt to expand the concept or rules any further. A recent local beer dinner included the following menu (the beers are usually served in smaller 4- or 6-ounce samples instead of full pint servings):

• First course: Lamb medallion with a kriek glaze and white asparagus puree, paired with a schwarzbier.
• Second course: Chilled cucumber soup with fried lotus root, paired with a light helles lager.
• Third course: Blackened salmon with citrus coulis and arugula, paired with an English-style pale ale.
• Fourth course: Slow-roasted beef with spring vegetables and garlic cous cous, paired with an American amber ale.
• Fifth course: Berry cheesecake with chocolate crust, paired with a maibock.

The intent of the beer dinner is to show how the flavors of each dish can be matched, complimented or fortified by selected beer styles, often in much better ways than wine is able. After all, craft beer derives from the same ingredients as bread and herbs, not fruit. It is only natural for a malt-based beverage to accompany dishes made up of grains, spices and meats.

The subtlety comes in finding craft beers to compliment the food, and sometimes cooking food that specifically compliments the beers. A properly designed beer dinner should not be a random match, feature only crowd favorites or be a showcase for rare beer styles. Strong flavors are acceptable only so much as they can be augmented by other strong flavors, either from the beers or the food.

The greatest benefit from events such as this is to re-introduce the idea that beer is food. For too long, beer has been relegated merely as a beverage of cheap convenience and refreshment by large corporate breweries, something only the working class swilled to quench their thirst during sporting events. Modern craft beer is as complex and sophisticated as any wine or spirit, and presenting it to the consuming public in this manner elevates it to a more suitable level.

Most beer dinners are well within the affordable range for most diners, and it is a great method of presenting craft beer to an underinformed public while also educating those already fans about some flavors and styles with which they may not be familiar. And as it seems to be quite profitable for many merchants and provides promotion for smaller, local brewers, these dinners will hopefully only develop and grow in popularity.

Extreme Beers

Brewing lends itself to experimentation in the same way as cooking up a recipe in a kitchen. Ingredients can be used or featured based on their individual strengths and flavors, their seasonal availability or to the taste of the chef. And as always, limits and prescribed recipes exist only to be pushed, challenged and extended.

The American craft brewing scene has an element of rogue extreme beers galloping along its fringes. What is meant by “extreme beers” are certain craft beers that push the limits of style guidelines, palatability or alcoholic strength. These are almost by definition experimental products, some little more than commercial test batches that have been formally released.

The descriptor "extreme” is taken to mean beyond simply the stronger versions of more traditional styles. Strong IPAs and imperial stouts may creep into the 10% ABV range but extreme beers routinely double this. Yet it is not necessarily the gravity that defines an extreme beer but some attribute taken to excess beyond any contemporary product or stylistic guideline.

By their very nature, extreme beers can be expensive and calorie-laden. Anywhere from twice to ten times the ingredients of a normal batch of beer can be used to produce just a single batch of these beers. This makes their prices soar, and small batch runs yield limited availability that is only compounded by rabid fans and consumers.

Because extreme beers are such a financial commitment on the part of the brewer, only a few brewers have the means to even attempt these rarities. Likewise, only a subset of the craft beer consuming market is willing to invest in these beers, yet somehow demand remains very high nationwide. Some present commercial examples include:

Three Floyds Dark Lord Russian Imperial Stout. This is a dark imperial stout that pushes the limits of viscosity. At 13% ABV, this stout is as thick as sorghum and has elements of coffees, chocolates and ports. A special day is set aside each April for its annual release that draws pilgrims to the brewery in Indiana from across the United States.

Dogfish Head World Wide Stout. This is another Russian imperial stout that has traded places back and forth with the Utopia in years past for the world record of the highest gravity commercial beer. Generally around 18% ABV, this is another heavy stout with components of roasted coffee, merlot, dark fruits and licorice.

Samuel Adams Triple Bock. Batches of this extreme beer were brewed only in 1994, 1995 and 1997, yet bottles can still be found in retailers around the country. An experimental (and somewhat controversial) extension of the doppelbock style, the Triple Bock reached 17.5% ABV and has been described as everything from a heavily malted ale to an unpalatable blend of soy sauce and wine.

Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA. Supposedly a continuation of their sixty- and ninety-minute hopping process from the beers of the same names, this is less a strong IPA and more of a hoppy American barleywine. Recent batches have clocked in at 21% ABV, and this beer is designed to age in the cellar for decades or longer. Trust me when I say this beer greatly improves with even just a little age.

Samuel Adams Utopia. The most extreme of commercial beers, this beer requires several different yeast strains to reach its final gravity of 27% ABV. Sold in a very distinctive gold vessel modeled after a full-sized mash tun, a single bottle can retail for as much as $125. Remarkably, the beer remains smooth and drinkable without becoming whiskey-hot with the highest alcohol level ever recorded for a commercial beer.

Origins: India Pale Ale

Every beer has a story to tell. Every style has an origin, whether it is invented one night by a creative commercial brewer or developed over centuries by a brewing culture. Some origins are simple and direct, and others are complex amalgams of time, society, environment, worldwide economies and even international politics.

Take the India pale ale, or IPA, for example. Americans have rabidly embraced this style and have quickly made it their own, especially with the rise of very distinct American hop varietals. But the story of where it originated is sometimes blurry, and contains historical facts mixed with a fair amount of carried-forward misinformation.

The “traditional” history of the IPA relates that it was an ale brewed by the English to a greater strength and more strongly hopped so that it would survive the journey by sea to occupied India in the nineteenth century without spoiling. At that time, transit by ship took months and the additional hops acted as a natural preservative, keeping the beer fresh until delivery.

However, this origin tale is simply not true. Granted, it does contain some truths, enough to keep this version alive and propagating. Hops do act as a mild preservative, and the British did ship beer to occupied India on a trip that took months at sea. But other beers—namely, porters—often made the same trip without harm or spoilage, so it is unlikely that English brewers would use hop additions to solve a problem they simply did not face.

To uncover the IPA’s true origin, examine the brewers who first produced this style of beer. The IPA is tied to the origin of the pale ale, connected as that is to the particular water chemistry of Burton-on-Trent. A very high natural concentration of sulfates in the water produces a beer of not only exceptional clarity but also one of enhanced bitterness. The sulfates in the water also allows the beer to hold a greater hop load than typical brown ales without adversely affecting the flavor.

The first so-called IPA was the “October beer” brewed by George Hodgson at the Bow Brewery in the late eighteenth century. It was only of marginally higher gravity and only slightly more hoppy than the popular bitters at the time, but Hodgson had the fortune of good business relations with the East India Company, the long-serving trading body with India and China.

Due to Hodgson’s favorable location, business terms and lines of credit, the East India Company became a major customer for his beers—especially the October beer, which handled the journey to India very well. The months-long journey by sea aged Hodgson’s beers an equivalent of two years in a cellar, so they arrived at their destinations very well-attenuated and in prime condition for consumption.

At about this same time, many English brewers were suffering as they lost their Northern European and Russian markets due to new and increasing international tariffs on beer. To replace these lost markets, many took advantage of Hodgson’s popular new style and began producing IPA versions of their own for export. Demand for this export product expanded, and by 1840 the India pale ale was a popular style among British consumers.

These early IPAs would hardly be noticed by modern craft beer consumers, as their “hoppy” nature was only in contrast to the popular porters and brown ales of that day. However, brewers and horticulturists continued to experiment with the hop plant and have expanded the style almost continuously since that time.

Today’s varieties can be highly localized and regional, as American hops have been developed with distinct flavors that separate them from Old World species. Brewers and consumers continue to embrace an almost infinite spectrum of IPA substyles and specialties, as it remains one of the most popular American beers.

Texas Brewers Parity Amendment

It is illegal for breweries in Texas to sell you beer.

Let me state that once again: It is prohibited by current Texas law for a brewer (large or small) to sell beer directly to the public. If you take a tour of one of our state’s microbreweries, you can sample their beers for free and buy as many branded tee-shirts or pint glasses as you like, but you cannot purchase a single bottle. The one product they make, they are not allowed to sell.

In a relic left over from Prohibition known as the three-tier model, breweries are only allowed to sell to distributors, and distributors are only allowed to sell to retailers (bars, stores, restaurants, clubs). The original purpose of the three-tier system was a sort of monopoly-buster, a system of checks and balances to keep any portion of the brewing industry from having too much power.

Unfortunately, the three-tier model does not work. Over time, the parties involved have shifted, with major commercial brewers spawning their own distribution networks (legally separate on paper) that today hold almost total sway over the retail market. Large breweries have constructed the distributors to be largely dependent upon them and them alone, radically skewing the balance originally intended.

Some U.S. states have subsequently modified or eliminated laws surrounding this post-Prohibition thinking. But unlike many other states with blooming brewing industries, the brewer in Texas is still restricted from selling directly to the consuming public. The only legal means of selling beer in Texas is at the mercy of a distributor, but a bill currently before the State House wants to change that.

The Texas Brewers Parity Amendment, or formally HB 1062, was introduced in February by Tarrant County Representative Lon Burnam. (A similar version was also introduced into the State Senate, SB 754, and another compromise bill, HB 2094, followed that one.) What it asks for is rather modest: Brewers “may sell ale… manufactured or bottled on the permitted premises to ultimate consumers… in unbroken packages for off-premises consumption in an amount that does not exceed 35,000 gallons annually.”

Similar legislation has been attempted in the past but has always been defeated. Two years ago, Saint Arnold’s Brock Wagner spearheaded a comparable bill that never saw the House floor. Strong opposition is generally raised by distributors and retailers, who fear direct sales will only cut into their bottom line as people go straight to the source for the sale.

But these fears are unfounded and paranoid. Consumers are unlikely to forgo more convenient retail outlets to patronize a brewery only open a few hours each week. Our nine Texas microbreweries are located so far apart that business “stolen” from distributors will hardly be measurable. No one is driving from Dallas to Houston just to buy a beer they can get at the local supermarket.

And counter to any arguments against this compromise is the real-life example of wine. Winemakers won the same rights several years ago for wine sales on-site at vineyards (Texas alcohol laws are annoyingly specific to the type of alcohol they cover) with no impact on anyone’s sales. In fact, many winemakers claim an increase in sales because of the change.

Visitors on a brewery tour usually want something to take home with them. Being able to purchase a six pack will only generate more business for distributors and retailers, as the beer tourist is converted into a beer consumer. Customers will return to the nearest store for more beer instead of returning to the brewery each time.

What can we do? If you live in Texas, contact your state representative and your state senator and express your support for our local Texas microbrewers and for this legislation.

Glassware Matters

Most fans of craft beer collect branded beer glassware like stray dogs. Shelves are filled with all shapes and styles of beer glasses, most with brewery logos etched on their sides. Such brewery paraphernalia has become the currency of the craft beer market, bought and traded as often as the beers made to fill them.

Of course, every brewer will want you to drink their beer out of their particular glass—that is simply basic business marketing. Many will also claim that their glassware possesses specific design elements that can enhance the drinking experience, and bring out the flavors of the beverage to their fullest. But how much of this is true and how much is just promotional hype? Is specialized glassware even needed at all?

To start, you should always consume your beer from a clean, room temperature glass. Your palate can only detect five different flavors, which means that the majority of your tasting is done through the aroma. (This is why food tastes bland when you have a cold.) Sucking a beer through the narrow neck of a bottle robs you of much of the flavor of that beverage.

Pouring a beer into a glass also stirs up the carbonation in the beer, releasing even more aromatic elements as the head is formed as well as slightly oxygenating the drink. Think of pouring beer from a bottle to a glass the same as decanting a bottle of wine. No one would swill a wine directly from the bottle, and neither should you treat fine beer with any less respect.

Proper glassware should also only be kept at room temperature, or at the most lightly refrigerated. Serving beer in frozen mugs does nothing but crank down the dial on flavors, as cold suppresses the taste the same way that warmth facilitates it. In addition, a glass with frozen sides will only freeze the water out of the beer, leaving thin ice chunks floating in a beer that dilutes as they melt.

However, contrary to the multitude of glassware designs foisted upon consumers today, only two types of glassware are truly necessary to enjoy the vast majority of beer styles available. First and foremost is the basic tumbler or shaker pint, the standard serving vessel for most pubs and restaurants today. It is heavy, sturdy, functional and durable, and easy to replace if broken.

Many variations on this basic design can be found, such as the tulip pint glass or the nonic. The basic design is a roughly cylindrical shape that widens slightly at the top; thick sides are a plus but any further filigree or design elements are irrelevant and contribute nothing to the drinking experience. This is your basic, everyday, serviceable glass for most beer styles.

But for your more aromatic beers, one additional glass is necessary. This type would be your basic tulip stemware, which could also be a snifter, a goblet, a thistle or even a wine glass. This glassware is far more delicate, with thinner sides and a more intricate intent, and should be cared for accordingly. Breakage is common, and some particular items are not so easily replaced.

This tulip stemware has two attributes the basic, ordinary pint glass does not. The material is thinner than most glasses, which will allow the warmth from your hand to gently warm the cold beverage included therein. Many aromatic beers, especially the high-gravity barleywines or imperial stouts, only reach their full flavor potentials at cellar temperatures—temperatures about 10° to 20° warmer than the common storage medium of the refrigerator.

But the most important attribute of the tulip stemware is the shape itself. Unlike the pint glass—which is wider at the top—good stemware should narrow slightly at the rim, creating an overall bulb-like shape to the glass. This allows the aromatic nose to be better contained within the glass and sampled with a deep breath prior to each sip.

Anything beyond these two styles of glassware is vanity. There is nothing wrong with collecting many interesting and varied beer glasses, as we all have shelves lined with such beautiful brewery swag. But there should never be more than two that do not collect dust—the pint glass and the stemware—because there is no proven functional benefit beyond these two designs.