Winification of Beer: Douchebag is as Douchebag Does

Rampant within the craft beer community is the fear that someday beer will become too much like wine. In fact, with the level of oenophile-phobia pervading the beer world, you would think that when beer reaches this event horizon, the irretractable pull will suddenly morph us all into pucker-faced, toile-loving douchebags who are beholden to the autocratic rule of food-pairing maxims, glass guidelines, tasting rankings of the anointed, and general snootiness. And who can blame them? Beer-wine equality is the stated goal of some brewers.

However, while drinking an Allagash Interlude recently (an excellent, vinous beer from one of the breweries most capable in converting winos to beer lovers) I had an epiphany. Douchebaggery isn’t acquired, like the cooties, rather, as my momma used to say: Douchebag is as douchebag does.

First of all, the perceived snootiness of wine and its drinkers is a little overblown. The modern wine era has become much more accessible and egalitarian. Good wine is showing up in increasingly casual settings and on more streamlined and approachable wine lists. Tastings are almost always geared toward accessibility. Trusted reviews are becoming more decentralized (along with the appurtenant proliferation of wine blogs). Further, the rule of drink what you like, when you like, in the vessel of your choice is becoming the norm.

Now granted, there are some snooty winos, but the beer community shouldn’t sell itself short. There are already plenty of sufficiently snooty beer drinkers in our midst. And we’re not as universally humble as we would like to think. Quite hypocritically, beer drinkers often simultaneously clutch to, and scoff at, beer’s humble and working-class roots. Further, I would argue that beer douches might be more dangerous than their wine counterparts…guts and beards can be insidiously disarming.

Besides, wine has more to fear from beer. Beer is more portable, convenient, and versatile. And as wine tries to become more casual and beer aspires to acceptance in more formal settings, I believe beer will ultimately fare better and end up occupying a broader portion of the boozing spectrum than wine…unless you can operate a Toro riding mower while holding a box of Franzia Chablis.

Just remember, as beer creeps closer to equal footing at the table with wine: Wine doesn’t make people douchey, people make people douchey. So, just don’t be a douche, and we’ll all be fine.

*Admittedly, Beerbecue may from time-to-time be guilty of such oenophobic hysteria; however, I am going to retroactively write it off as hyperbole and situational posturing.

Beer Madness 2013: The Riesling Curse

I’m a little late with my post this week, but my recent free time and marital capital were spent on Beer Madness 2013. This year, dangermenparenting and I wrapped up the annual Beer Madness Tournament much faster than the 6 months it took last year. We even doubled the field to 16 (20 if you count the 4 play-in match-ups). How did we do this? More man-power. We enlisted the help of the Sports-Glutton and two other non-blogging friends. It was a good time.

I have a couple bones to pick beneath the pics, but I’ll leave the full rundown to dangermenparenting. You can take a looksie-peepsie at the final bracket here. And here is the lineup:

First of all, somehow Schlafly Kölsch beat He’Brew Schmaltz Lenny’s RIPA by a vote of 4-1. Inconceivable. The only reasonable explanation is rampant anti-semitism. The Schlafly is a well-made beer, but you could fall asleep drinking it. The RIPA, on the other hand, exemplifies the transcendence of the rye and hop union.

Second, Thomas Hooker Brewing’s Connecticut Barrel Series Saison made it to the finals. This overly sweet and under-carbonated saison (aged in wine barrels) never should have made it past the first round match-up with Ommegang Hennepin. I hadn’t had a Hennepin in awhile, but I was reminded how great a beer it is, particularly its yeast character. Conversely, the common compliment about the Hooker Saison was that it tasted remarkably like a Riesling. Actually, everyone else repeatedly gushed over this characteristic.

When has “tastes like a Riesling” ever been a positive beer characteristic, particularly at an event called Beer Madness (hosted in a basement in front of 92 total inches of flat-screen college basketball coverage)? Wait. Actually, I do know someone else who would like a beer that tasted like Riesling…this lady:

She’s laughing AT you.

My mother-in-law. In fact, her Facebook timeline reminds me that she drinks Riesling while enjoying Dancing With The Stars…followed-up with a spot of chocovine. Now, I had to duck out of Beer Madness right after the final tasting, but I can only assume this is also what happened in my absence with this Riesling-sipping crowd.

Here’s to a Riesling-free Beer Madness 2014.

Beer Review: Engelszell Gregorius – Gettin Greggy wit it

Next up, Engelszell’s Gregorius:

Yet another pope is elected, and yet again my hopes are dashed that the papal name Lando II is not adopted. Of course, little is known of Pope Lando, who served a mere 6 months early in the 10th century. Although, we do know he is the only pope to not change his name upon accession (for obvious reasons), and it is speculated that he looked like this:

He was also fond of Colt 45.

But with a new pope, what better beer to review than one from the most recently recognized trappist brewery, Engellszell. And perhaps even more appropriate, the beer is named Gregorius, which at first glance appears to be a portmanteau of Gregorian (of, or relating to, Pope Gregory) and glorious. This is particularly relevant to the current papal transfer of power because Pope Gregory XII was the last pope to resign, and Pope Gregory III was the last pope not born in Europe.

However, “Gregorian” is typically only used with respect to Gregory the Great, Gregory VII, and Gregory XIII, which begs the question: What about the other 13 Pope Gregs? Sure, anything relating to Gregory VIII (who held the papacy a mere 57 days) is Gregorish, but who is Gregorius a reference to?

I don’t know, but this fancy fella is Gregorifantabulous.

A quick check to the Engelszell Abby’s Wikipedia page reveals that the abby’s first abbot after its re-founding as a trappist monastery was Gregorius Eisvogel. Oh. Oops. That would explain why it’s Gregorius and not Gregorious. Screw you right in the eye, Latin. Nobody likes you, anyway.

It pours mahogany with some light brown-orange at the edges. It’s got an average, but mostly tight, tan head. It smells like dark bread, cocoa, root beer, and dates. In the taste, I am definitely picking up some roast and a hint of coffee. At the end, there’s an unexpected slight bitterness. It’s like an earthy hop head fake with a pass to roasted bitterness. Also, there is a slight steel/mineral quality, presumably from the water they use.

If you let it warm, the sweetness and a little brown sugar comes out to complement the aforementioned, but it remains much roastier than the other trappist beers I’ve had. It also distinguishes itself from other trappist offerings in the carbonation. I was expecting the carbonation and head to be all like the usual ADHD/hyperactive child, but it’s pretty well-behaved and does its homework and chores when asked.

Grab some. It’s worth a try.

The Haybag: It’s tasty and aids in let down. What? That’s worth noting…

Maine Beer Company King Titus Porter – The gorilla who dared to do some stuff

Next up, King Titus Porter from Maine Beer Company:

Apparently, this beer is named after some famous male silverback gorilla named Titus, who was observed in the Virunga Mountains for an extended period. So why is Titus deserving of a beer named after him? Let’s see:

Titus’ father and troop leader, Uncle Bert, dies. Another gorilla, Beetsme, attempts a coup d’etat by committing infanticide. The female gorillas think this is a total dick move and leave. Despite Beetsme’s obvious cock-blocking tendancies, Titus is all like “bros before hoes”, and they form an all male group. Then, with only dudes around for 8 years, they go all Silverback Mountain and institute the gorilla troop version of the Navy’s “It’s only queer if you’re tied to the pier” policy. Finally, some ladies show up…there’s probably some confusion, self-loathing, and over-compensation for the past 8 years, and Beetsme takes over (Titus apparently forgetting that Beetsme’s stellar leadership is how they had ended up in an 8-year sausage party). Blah blah blah…Titus impregnates some gorillas behind Beetsme’s back, takes over the troop, doesn’t learn sign language, doesn’t maul any humans for making eye contact, doesn’t not maul a pet kitten, and doesn’t paint a picture of his dead pet dog.

Worthy of a beer name? I guess. Maybe Jimmy Russell Porter would have been better, though.

Seriously? A two-year-old rustled jimmies meme?

It pours an impenetrable dark brown…nearly black, with a dense, khaki head that resists retreat (but eventually dies down to a thick film). It smells like roast, cream, bread, a little earthiness, and a hint of spent coffee grounds. The taste opens with roast, a little chocolate, and coffee, which then gives way to a slight earthy, herbal bitterness and a lasting roasted bitterness that hangs. A little thinner than the usual porters that masquerade as stouts. And as with most Maine brews I’ve had, it finishes plenty dry. Interestingly, though, as it warms it does start to feel a little creamier.

The Haybag: Maine Beer Company makes the Haybag a little angry. She thinks their beers are too expensive (she maybe has a point) and too dry (they are often on the dry side). She has forbidden me from buying any more. I’m still trying to figure out whether this is her usual hyperbole or an actual spousal edict.

Beerbecue +1: The Great Penino

Beerbecue added another girl to the brood last Monday. I am now outnumbered 3-1 (4-1 if you count the dog). Hopefully, this is a valid excuse for my absence. Daughter 2.0 is big at 22 inches and a shade under 9 lbs. (It’s no wonder the diminutive Haybag could no longer breathe near the end.) She is as “spirited” as daughter 1.0 (and what I imagine the Haybag to have been in her earliest years).

But excuses are like elbows: Everybody has them, and it’s physically impossible to lick them. So, a review of Maine Beer Company’s King Titus Porter and some edgy, bi-curious gorilla comedy will be posted on Monday.

Until then, I leave you with a picture of daughter 2.0 and her Doppelgänger (Paulie Penino from Rocky):

Schlafly Christmas Ale Review on the Friday Football Fix

Don your gay apparel and roast your nuts, as beerbecue guest reviews Schlafly’s Christmas Ale on the Sports-Glutton’s Friday Football Fix. This week, Niners vs. Rams.

I also go overboard with Big Lens effects. Fake depth of view and snow effect….ooooooooh.

A Break From The Hype Machine: Chimay Grande Reserve (Blue)

My beerbecue output has fallen behind a bit lately. Unfortunately, work has me busier than a two-dicked dog. Although, each week I generally post once on beerbecue and once for my weekly contribution to the Sports-Glutton‘s Friday Football Fix. So, get off my back already.

The Haybag sent me to a Trappist beer class at Rustico, where I imbibed in the following: Westmalle Tripel, Chimay Grande Reserve, Trappistes Rochefort 8, La Trappe Dubbel, Orval Trappist Ale, Achel 8° Blonde. They couldn’t manage to get us any Westvleteren. Jerks.

It was interesting watching Neighborhood Restaurant Group Beer Director Greg Engert go into a beer shaman-like trance and recite the history of beer, eventually tying it in to the history of Trappist beer to present day. There were some interesting insights.

For instance, I had always thought, and it appears to be commonly accepted, that Orval throws Brett in the bottles at bottling to get its trademark funk. It was suggested, however, that they use ale yeast for primary fermentation, then they use their Brett strain during secondary. Next, they centrifuge it. Then they bottle it with a little ale yeast and liquid sugar for bottle refermentation. So, any Brett in the bottle is leftovers from the secondary fermentation. Let the disagreement begin…

And while it’s not entirely clear, it actually appears from Orval’s website that this could be the case. I even emailed Orval’s Cistercian monks to confirm. For some reason they never got back to me, though. I even played the fellow Catholic card. I was pissed until the Haybag reminded me that they probably have better things to do. Whatever.

A busy Cistercian monk… I bet the Benedictines totally would have replied.

Another interesting point was that not long ago, beer geeks would have shit their pants over a lineup like this. And that’s a good point. Maybe they got lost amidst the hype. Or maybe there really are just new, better beers out there in this style (Boulevard Long Strange Tripel, Ommegang Abbey Ale, and Russian River Salvation are a couple stellar American-made Abbey-style examples). I don’t think it can entirely be the latter, however, because these are still damn good beers. Case in point, Chimay Grande Reserve (Blue)…

The bottle was a 750, and the cork was stamped 06/11. It poured clear brown (initial pour was without the yeast from the bottom of the bottle) with Grand Marnier highlights and a touchy khaki head that leaves no lace. Cuidado: Without a careful pour, the head will get away from you. It smells like raisins, toffee, malt, and a nebulous fruit aroma presumably from Fr. Ted’s yeast strain. The taste follows the nose with added bananas, caramel, and slightly burnt brown sugar. All very subtle, though…and never too sweet or too dry. Also, I always notice a pleasant mineral quality in Chimay that must be from the monastery’s well water.

This stuff is easy to get, and it can handle sitting on the shelf for awhile…which is good, because sometimes I feel like it is unfairly overlooked.

The Beerbecue Cocktail: The only beer cocktail you’ll ever need.

Much has been made of beer cocktails, or “hoptails”, lately. The beerbecue beverage lab has engineered its own. Below are detailed video instructions on the only beer cocktail you’ll ever need (and as a bonus, the Curmudgeon’s identity is finally revealed).

Beerbecue Swag Drawing: The China Syndrome

We have the results of the drawing for beerbecue swag. In the case of a nuclear reactor, the China Syndrome foretells a core meltdown burning through the containment vessel and not stopping until it reaches the popularly perceived antipode of the US: China. Of course, the actual antipode for most of the U.S. is the Indian Ocean. Specifically, my current location would actually result in the “Indian Ocean, Off the Southwest Coast of Australia Syndrome”, but that’s a little unwieldy. So, in the case of a beerbecue swag contest, the China Syndrome must predict that the winner will be on the (perceived) opposite side of the globe.

There were 20 entries. And I had my daughter blindly draw a name.

This is my reaction to having to send the swag to the winner, Fred, in Hong Kong. The Haybag suggested I limit the next contest to U.S. shipping addresses. She is a bit of an isolationist, though. And Fred has graciously instructed me to send his beerbecue apron to his mother for inclusion in a future care package. Thanks, Fred!

While I wasn’t looking, my daughter quickly plucked another name from the bowl and proclaimed, “This guy gets second place.” How can I argue with that? So, Mark from Kaedrin Beer Blog can have a second place beerbecue coozie, if he wants it.

Then, in a cost savings measure, I promptly removed the bowl before she could declare the third, fourth, fifth…….and, eventually, twentieth place winner.

Thanks for entering. I think we will have some more contests in the future (like captions, or some fun crap like that). And I’m excited to announce that on Friday, beerbecue’s first video post is going live. Advance screenings have yielded such comments as: “That didn’t suck as much as I thought it would.” & “It wasn’t bad.” I smell an Oscar!

Extra Strength Tylenol Cold – Sore Throat…and Unrelated T-Shirt/Apron Giveaway

Next up, Tylenol Cold – Sore Throat:

Extra strength. Cause we don't F around.

It pours a mostly clear blue, like I imagine smurf blood, but thicker. No head to speak of, even with a vigorous pour. It smells like wild berry scented icy hot, with a sort of mediciney hint of band-aid in the background. It tastes like menthol, with a smack of something that makes my head involuntarily shake back-and-forth violently. Unfortunately, it lacked that special something that one finds in NyQuil…that something that reminds you to take the “wake up where you take it” cold and flu remedy close to bed. The finish is its best attribute, as it leaves behind a soothing, cool sensation from your uvula to half-way down your esophagus.

I highly recommend it to anyone with a sore throat.

The Haybag: I like the flavor and cooling quality so much that, when I have a sore throat, I like to sip it like a fine digestif.

P.S. Also, this week, anyone who comments on any beerbecue post, “likes” beerbecue on Facebook, signs up for email notifications, or follows beerbecue on Twitter (@beerbecue7) will be entered to win a beerbecue t-shirt or apron. If you enter by following on Twitter, be sure to mention to me something witty about beerbecue swag so I can differentiate between the contest entrants and random, new twitter followers.

UPDATE: Lyricslibationsandlife had a good question. You can check out the goodies on the right-hand side of the top menu bar under “beerbecue swag”.