Infection!

On the whole, most of us are healthy individuals. However, we all must deal with infectious diseases or conditions from time to time. Bacterial or viral, our bodies cannot always successfully defend against the microbes that bathe our world. We all get infections. Our pets get infections. Even our computers get infections. And believe it or not, so does our beer.

Readers should already be familiar with the role of yeast in fermentation. Whether you talk about beer, wine, vinegar, bread, yogurt, cheese, buttermilk, sauerkraut or soy sauce, the process is essentially the same: microorganisms of various cultivated yeast species eat sugars and produce alcohol, carbon dioxide and a few other chemical flavoring components. We use and breed yeast to do this because the end product tastes so good.

But what is good for domesticated Saccharomyces cerevisiae is also good for hundreds if not thousands of other microbial life-forms, ranging from mold spores, bacteria or wild yeast species native to our environment. The process is similar to that of yeast, as existing sugars are consumed, but the output of these foreign bugs can contribute flavors that range from mildly sour to absolutely vile. A rare few like Salmonella can even kill you.

The dichotomy of brewing is to develop an environment that is literally an ideal world for these microorganisms to thrive and then deliberately infect it with the germ of your choice—yeast. After boiling the hops and grains during the brewing process, the resulting cooled liquor (called wort) is a sterile landscape just waiting to be populated. And it will be quickly invaded and inhabited, either by the choice of the brewer or by the chance of whatever agent can get to it first. This is why sanitation in the brewing process is paramount.

The good news in this microscopic war zone is that yeast has been bred to be very good at what it does. Whereas professional brewers have sealed industrial equipment, homebrewers can reliably and repeatedly make good beer in their kitchen or backyard. Even if a few undesirables get into the wort, yeast can usually out-compete anything else. In this environment, yeast is generally the dominant life-form.

However, yeast isn’t bulletproof. Some infections can gain a foothold and add their own flavors to the recipe. It can happen when the yeast is pitched, or when it is transferred for bottling, or even live in the plastic lines behind a commercial tap. Some states and municipalities have their own laws and procedures for maintaining brewing and beer-serving equipment, above and beyond commercial food safety regulations.

Whatever its origin, an infected beer is not too difficult to identify. In a bottle, an infection sometimes overcarbonates the beer, leading it to gush uncontrollably when opened. Flavors that infections can impart include a sour or acidic taste like vinegar (often a result of Brettanomyces, Lactobacillus or Pediococcus), a plastic taste (often referred to as "Band-Aid"), a sulfur taste like rotting eggs or matches, or vegetal components like celery, onion or asparagus. Flavors of infection tend to resemble organic substances, as opposed to other contaminants like soap or cleansers that may add more of a chemical flavor element.

The good news is that other than ruining the taste, nothing that can grow in a beer is really harmful to humans. The pH of beer and the presence of alcohol keep almost all the truly nasty microorganisms at bay. Even drinking an infected beer won’t make you sick, although the flavor and acidity may turn your stomach. If you suspect a beer is infected, always inform the manager, the retailer or even the brewer directly. Most will be happy and eager to replace it.

Someone Called Me “Brewmaster”

If prompted, I am happy to talk beer and brewing with most anyone. Many people are either fascinated with the method or amazed it can be done at home, and almost all are understandably ill-informed of the entire process and subculture that has developed. For that reason, I was caught a bit off-guard when during a recent conversation, someone said to me, "So, you’re a brewmaster, right?"

To the general public, brewmaster is a term that lies somewhere between kids' fantasy toys and overly enthusiastic hobbyists bordering on obsession. However, what this innocent layman actually committed was a rather minor faux pas by using that term incorrectly. Within the brewing community, especially within the professional and commercial realms, this honorific is reserved for a select few.

In Germany, a brewmaster (or rather Braumeister) is a formal title and job position. It reflects a professional brewer who has completed a university course of training for the Diplom-Braumeister, somewhat equivalent of a Bachelors of Science degree in brewing beer. Inspired individuals can even proceed to a Diplom-Ingenieur, something like a Masters of Science with a specialty in biotechnology/brewing science.

In the European world, calling someone a brewmaster or master brewer is a designation of respect. It means that they have mastered the art and science that is beermaking, and have the credentials to back it up. It implies not only a knowledge of brewing but also an advanced education in the chemistry and biology of those involved processes. Although not entirely uncommon, there are but a few schools that offer such programs in both Germany and the United States, and their popularity is growing.

Overall, finding such certified brewmasters in American craft brewing operations is not necessarily a given. Many owners of microbreweries do have a similar academic background, possibly having attended one of the domestic brewing programs such as the University of California, Davis or the Siebel Institute of Technology. Most are simply talented homebrewers who have turned professional, or have apprenticed at other craft breweries. However, few are certified brewmasters of the German tradition.

Because of this, it is much more common to find a head brewer in charge of a small brewery here in the States. There are several variations on this title—such as Head of Brewing Operations, Chief Brewer or simply Brewer—and all reflect more of a journeyman aspect to the profession on this side of the Atlantic. Being the upstart entrepreneurs that they are, some small brewers have adopted more playful titles, such as Chief Zymurgist.

Do homebrewers have any such titles or rankings? Not at all. Aside from being no more than a pastime, homebrewing is a much more egalitarian activity. Even award-winning, long-time homebrewers still make mistakes and are still learning about their devoted weekend diversion. There is much more camaraderie and less status among homebrewers, as the hobby lends itself to teaching and learning across both the novice and the expert.

Given that most American craft breweries are small operations at best, titles and positions are little more than words printed on a business card. With small profit margins and a lot of labor involved, most professional head brewers are as up to their armpits in muck as any volunteer or lowly trainee. What title should these professional brewers use? As more than one has personally told me, "Janitor."

As Near-Bear as Not-Beer Can Get

Another rising trend in the world of American craft beer stretches the definition of beer to its very limits. This is the appearance of gluten-free beers on shelves, beer made without the traditional malt or grain products. A relatively young and very narrow specialty product, these gluten-free beers are seeing a toe-hold in the American craft beer market.

Gluten is a sticky protein that develops from wheat and related grains such as rye, barley or oats. It is the same substance that gives bread or pizza dough its chewy mouthfeel. Unfortunately, sufferers of celiac disease have a condition in which their small intestine becomes inflamed in the presence of gluten, leading to a host of uncomfortable symptoms and nutritional disorders. Presently, no cure exists except a lifetime of a dedicated gluten-free diet.

An estimated 1 out of every 133 people in the United States suffers from celiac disease. This is enough to merit a commercial response, and the American craft brewing scene is as inventive as they come. However, it does pose a rather major problem for brewers as malted grains are the largest ingredient (besides water) used in making beer.

The leading malt alternative in brewing presently is sorghum, a grass commonly grown for animal feed. Sorghum lacks the protein that becomes gluten when worked but still has enough sugars and fiber to be used as a foodstuff. It is a major crop outside of the Western world, used for porridge, couscous and unleavened breads and cakes. Americans are probably most familiar with it as sorghum syrup or molasses, popular in the South as an analogue of the North’s maple syrup.

Of course, yeast love and need sugar, and are not so particular as to its origin, so sorghum makes them as happy as any grain. Individuals with celiac disease have no problem with hops, so that flavor ingredient presents no difficulties, and water is a neutral and flavorless component. Thus, the only real difference between regular craft beer and gluten-free beer is the grain bill. But what a difference that can make.

I have tried several commercial gluten-free beers—mainly out of curiosity—and I find few that I can recommend. The flavor profiles are very limited by the lack of traditional grains and the flavors derived from their roasting or caramelization in the boil. Residual tastes range from being too sugary (as in table sugar) to saccharine (as in artificial sweetener). Although rarely horrible, some of the strange and unfamiliar off-flavors can be quite off-putting.

Styles available at present are very limited; most commercial versions are no more than amber ales or simple lagers. To maximize their market, few brands are pushing the hop profile, which could be a great assist to this type of beer. The stronger hops flavors in pale ales or IPAs might mask some of the more undesirable components and leave the resulting beer closer to traditional styles.

Some of the best of the gluten-free choices are from outside the United States, but a few domestic craft brewers are catching on to the trend. Lake Front Brewery of Wisconsin produces a gluten-free beer, and one of the oldest of the style is Bard’s Tale Beer of California, which claims to be the first to develop gluten-free beers in the States. The best that I have found currently is Redbridge, an Anheuser-Busch product; it is actually clean enough not to immediately come across as a nonstandard beer.

Regrettably, gluten-free beers are not a variety that excels in flavor or that are highly prized or sought by the craft beer public. Whether they ever will be remains to be seen, but the limitations of using none of the traditional grains severely handicaps their quality and potential. But if you are an individual with celiac disease or some other related food sensitivity, these beers can be an answer to a prayer.

Is Organic Better? Part 2

Organic is the new buzzword of the brewing industry. Brewers are rushing to develop new organic ales, and some new brewers are striving for full certification and status of all their products. Mother Earth is happier, people are drinking cleaner and healthier beers, and all is right with the world. But how do they compare in taste to otherwise conventional products?

Organic brewing has been embraced by both large and small brewers. Anheuser-Busch launched its own line of organic beers in 2006 under the names of Green Valley Brewing Company and Crooked Creek Brewing Company. Many independent craft brewers have begun operating with wholly organic ingredients and methods, including Butte Creek Brewing Company of Chico, California, and the longstanding Otter Creek (Wolaver’s) Brewing in Middlebury, Vermont.

Some craft brewers are adding organic products to their otherwise conventional portfolios, such as Green Lakes Organic Ale from Deschutes Brewery of Bend, Oregon. Specialty events such as the North American Organic Brewers Festival are now held regularly. The movement is mature enough that some organic craft brewers have already come and gone, such as the now defunct Healthy Brew out of Fort Worth, Texas.

The organic moniker is not truly a distinct style of beer, as it could apply to any style of beer brewed under these standards. But what has been seen so far in the marketplace are generally mainstream ales such as pale ales, ambers and the occasional mild IPA. This is to be expected for two primary reasons: First, these styles are simple and easy to obtain organic ingredients for and to produce, making them preferable test-market vehicles for a consumer sector still finding its legs. Second, some more complex styles may include ingredients that are not as easy to obtain or as favorably performing as those that fall under the organic umbrella.

For example, roasted malt requires an additional step beyond simple pale malt, that of roasting to obtain a desired color and flavor profile much like coffee beans. This can only add to the expense of an organic malt with its additional handling and processing. Likewise, some adjuncts like Belgian candy sugars or fruit additives may also be more expensive if not more difficult to obtain in organic form, especially for industrial levels of production. It makes sense that brewers would keep this specialty simple at the start.

The primary flaw with organic beers is that many brewers begin with the organic part instead of the beer part. Many organic brewers have either failed outright or produce lackluster beers because they are more focused on meeting ethical and legal standards for organic certification rather than what they should be—that is, brewing a flavorful, competitive beer. For established brewers, a single organic product may be more a reaction to a competitive marketplace than a philosophical choice.

Overall, most organic beers fall short of their “nonorganic” competitive counterparts. From a flavor standpoint, their afterthought status or shortcomings of new and enthusiastic brewers result in (at best) plain and (at worst) dismal beers. The added expense of organic ingredients, as well as the cost of formal certification or membership in organic consortia, can often drive the prices of organic beers beyond what a highly competitive marketplace will bear.

This is not to say that high-quality organic beers cannot be made, nor that companies that make them cannot thrive. Otter Creek has survived since 1998 producing a portfolio of certified organic beers, now distributed coast to coast. Organic beers have won awards, both in their own categories and in direct competition with conventional products. But the brewers must remain focused on producing the best beer possible without sacrificing quality in the name of certification.

Is Organic Better? Part 1

One of the latest trends to hit the U.S. marketplace is the offering of organically produced food, and craft beer is no exception. The rise in sales of organic beers has been meteoric in recent years, with annual jumps in the 40% range based on sales. But is this about a conscientious product or about marketing? Are organic beers better tasting or healthier than “regular” beers?

Being organic can mean different things to different people. For most breweries, there is only their word and reputation that the products advertised as “organic” actually are, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. Some are sanctioned by organic-foods organizations such as the Organic Trade Organization and adhere to their (nonbinding) requirements. The only law in the United States for such products is certification from the USDA National Organic Program, which is a legally enforceable award.

Fundamentally, organic beers are those brewed strictly using source ingredients (primarily malt and hops) that are produced without the application of artificial chemicals for the purpose of herbicide, insecticide or fertilizer. The USDA’s certification allows some commercial leeway as it only requires that 95% of the ingredients be produced with these methods. These requirements have also been extended to include the use of genetically modified organisms (GMO) as ingredients.

The Green Movement has taken hold of many industries, and brewing is no different. Brewers and producers of brewing ingredients are working in many ways to upgrade their standards of production, storage and delivery. Some do this out of a motivation for better products, some for moral and ethical reasons, and some upgrades are solely in the name of efficiency and for financial benefit. Many times, it is a combination of these reasons.

Long past are the days of crop dusting with DDT. Many industrial farms are now using more green solutions for their day-to-day operations, not to pursue any organic status but simply out of a concern for the environment and to yield a better product. Fertilizers are less toxic and more bio-friendly than they have been in years past. Hop farmers are today more likely to use predatory insects to control pests than chemical insecticides. Craft breweries are now often models of green efficiency, integrating recycling and environmentally friendly practices with wastewater and chemicals as standard practice.

One issue particular to the brewing industry is that beers are not simply grown from the soil. It is comparatively simple to refrain from using nonorganic additives on crops, or to easily substitute one agent for another greener equivalent. But beer is an industrial product, and some portions of its production require otherwise questionable compounds. Water must be cleaned and filtered and, in some cases, chemically treated for proper pH levels advantageous to fermentation. Sanitizers must be used with every step after the boil, as the same environment in which the yeast flourish is also a welcome home for hundreds of other microbial agents.

Fortunately, acceptably green substitutions can be found for all these industrial issues, but thinking of organic beer the same way one thinks about an organic carrot can be misleading. The lines between what is by definition organic and what is simply another product on the shelf are blurring. Obviously, a beer certified organic or produced with all organic ingredients will be relatively free of any harmful chemicals, ostensibly making it a healthier choice. But by how much? With many craft brewers already integrating green practices and higher quality ingredients, the health and safety benefits of the “organic” label become marginal.

But does this make the beer taste better?