Hunting for Finesse: The Exceptions Are Still the Exceptions.

So I've been in America for some weeks and, to be honest, not much has changed here lately -- not on the beer front, anyway. Oh, there are more and more breweries and more and more beer specialist bars with more and more taps, and there are more and more regular bars and restaurants with growing lists populated by small and regional brewers. But the products are basically the same: resinously bitter and/or highly alcoholic. When not overly bitter they tend to be overly spiced, as with the caricatures of Belgian ale that seem to be flourishing.

So much for the sweeping generalizations. There are some highly drinkable options out there, beers full of flavor and finesse. But it takes some hunting. It falls to us to share tips on what and where to hunt. Anyway, there ought to be more.


A few we've found along the road:

A true "session" took place last night at Meridian Pint in D.C., where five of its taps have been pouring beers of 4.5% or 4.6% strength. It wasn't a special event or anything like that; it just appears to be a priority for the landlord. A highlight for me was the Caledonia from Williamsburg Alewerks, a orange-amber "session IPA" full of herbal, floral hop flavor. Afterward I walked home in a straight line, more or less.


Back in St. Louis, the Civil Life (pictured) is filling dimpled mugs full of stuff that most geeks would find boring. Good. Let the regular drinkers and seasoned pros mingle without the whale-hunters. The Rye Pale and Brown were the popular girls, but I fell for the wallflower Bitter, dry and golden, full of floral Goldings with just a touch of fruity Centennial.


Also in St. Louis, Perennial is making some oddities but seduced me with its simpler saisons. The Hommel Bier has compelling character, matching American hops with what I think is the Dupont yeast strain. In my hometown of Springfield, Missouri, I found the Saison de Lis on draft in Patton Alley and couldn't seem to stop asking them to refill the glass. Its chamomile is understated and adds depth. If you didn't know it was there, you wouldn't know it was there.


Now for breweries with numbers in their names. On the acidic end: 4 Hands put out a Berliner Weisse named Prussia that wields a refreshing lactic tartness. It's difficult to put down and weighs in at a whopping 3.5% abv. And at 2nd Shift in New Haven I tasted a barrel-aged half-wild ale named Katy, a "Brett beer" for lack of better title. Pale, lightly tart, lightly tannic, heavily addictive at 5% strength. A future star, I think.

The hunt continues. I look forward to a day when the exceptions can no longer be called that.

Brewpubs, Drinking Local, Session Beer, and Tax Cuts.

In case you're still trying to work out where to take your summer vacation, the USA Today's travel section asks Andy Crouch to name 10 of the country's most interesting brewpubs. And it works in a plug for Andy's Great American Craft Beer book. So did I.

In a recent Beer Advocate column, Andy opines on craft brewers reducing their distribution rather than trying to compete in all 50 states. The Great Beer Retreat, he calls it. "We are entering a new era of craft beer, one in which selection around the country may shrink but where local beer will grow increasingly strong and entrenched roots."

Have a look at your own hometown. What do you see? In my hometown of Springfield, Mo., I see a brand spanking new brewhouse that sold 120 barrels to locals in its first two weeks. It has lots of room to expand. Now in Springfield there are people drinking craft beer who never gave it much thought before. It's easy to weigh that against a few hypothetical geeks ringing their hands over not being able to find some Dogfish Head special release. Very easy.

Three of my favorite things: St. Louis, D.C. and beer. So I was tickled to hear recently about the collaboration between Schlafly of St. Louis and three D.C.-area publicans of quality watering holes: Greg Engert of ChurchKey, Greg Jasgur of Pizza Paradiso and Sam Fitz of Meridian Pint. I was even more tickled to learn that the collaboration was a 4.2% abv dry-hopped pale ale called House in Session. The idea is to raise awareness about proposed cuts in excise taxes that would make life easier on smaller brewers. More info on that from the Brewers Association, if you're interested.

Yes, craft brewers lobby for handouts just like everyone else. At first glance it would appear to be a positive thing for drinkers as well, possibly leading to wider choice and (dare we hope?) lower prices. Here's more knowledge from the Washington City Paper.

Not Another Year-End Best-Of List. Or Is It?

Time to gift myself a self-indulgent post about the beers I enjoyed most in 2010. Merry Christmas to me! Oh, I don't know. I guess there's a chance someone out there will find it useful.

Now listen: I'm not saying these are the best beers of the year or any of that nonsense. Clearly we're all experienced hedonists who understand that enjoyment of a beer is highly contextual. The quality of a glass of beer or wine or a meal brings a lot to the table, so to speak, but so does the quality of your company, your surroundings, your mood, the size of the paycheck you just received, and so on. This a collection of memories more than anything else.

In no particular order: These first three might be modern American classics... but I'd never had any of them until this past year. After four years abroad, there was some catching up to do.

I was hanging out with old friends, whom I hadn't seen in some time, when I thoroughly enjoyed a glass of Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald Porter at the Meridian Pint in D.C.* Great roast character combined with a light impression of cocoa sweetness and dryish finish. Hit all the right notes and highly drinkable.

Then there was the Bitch Creek ESB from Grand Teton. Enjoyed that for the first time at the brewery in Victor, Idaho, with my dad, brother and son. I expected a nice malty pale ale. I did not expect the big floral-woody hop aroma. We drank it while admiring the country's first modern growler (cue Indiana Jones: It belongs in a museum!).

Closing out the trifecta of American classics is Three Floyds Gumballhead, my favorite in a box of beers mailed to me by gentleman and scholar Stefan Berggren. It's a hop-forward wheat beer that ducks excessive bitterness and opts for big aroma with notes of flowers, blood oranges and mangos. Refreshing and addictive. I owe him big time.

Going back a bit further: Before leaving Belgium in the spring, if you recall, we opted to drink the cellar rather than try to pack it. We saved one of the best for last: a Fuller's Vintage from 2007. Its flavor blossomed from somewhere among applewood, Port, caramel-sugar and sparkling wine. Maybe it would have continued to improve but I can't say I'll ever regret opening it. These days I miss the occasional cannonball run to London every bit as much as I miss living in Belgium.

Then there was the parting gift from Mr. De Baets: a few bottles of Wadesda No. 1, a mixed-fermentation blend of Senne's Jambe de Bois triple and Cantillon lambic. Two of them I managed to keep. The one I drank had enough lemony, grapefuity, musty Cantillon character to convince me the beer was refreshing. Yet the body and the buzz gave away its 8% abv origins. Terrific and dangerous.

However: My absolute favorite beer from the past year was an unfiltered lager. It was an orange-copper color. It had a sweetish nose with notes of orange zest that carried into the firmly bitter flavor then all the way through the aftertaste. It struck me as the finest nexus of great character and sublime drinkability. It was the Ungespundet from Mahr's Bräu in Bamberg, enjoyed with my wife and dear friends. A liter of the stuff wasn't enough. Someday I hope to go back and drink my fill.

Finally, I've got to mention the glass of Libertas blonde ale I had from the finally-just-about-to-launch Costa Rica's Craft Brewing in Cartago. Crisp, subtle and visually perfect, it has the potential to be a gateway drug for Costa Rican beer lovers tired of the local swill. After months of thin lager, it tasted like liberation.

* Incidentally, check out what's going on at Meridian Pint tonight. Eleven different Bell's stouts for the year's longest, darkest night. Could you get through all of them?

Fancy Doodads and Fancy Bottles.

Emptying the notebook: Check out the serve-yourself tap at Meridian Pint, a new beer-centric pub in DC. No need to flag down a waiter; the electronic tap handle tallies up your bill by counting ounces poured and fractions thereof. Really nifty if you're in a hurry to drink. There are two of them at booths in the downstairs bar. They were occupied when we arrived. I'm not sure we'd have done it anyway. The only options on the tap were Ommegang and Samuel Adams... Fine, but the full draft beer list was much more fun.

Our undisputed winner that night was the Edmund Fitzgerald Porter from Great Lakes. Killer combination of deep roasted character and easy drinkability. Considering its richness the 5.8% strength is more than reasonable. It's another nominee for Perfect American Beer According to Me, barely edging out the same brewery's also-excellent Burning River Pale Ale. (The popular Cleveland-based brewery must have been making a distribution push lately, because I'm seeing its beers in states where I didn't see them last year.)

Finally: Like Alan, I'm tired of expensive corked bottles. We're paying a lot extra for that nonsense. That's all fine and good for really special beers, when you want a bit of a show, but we're losing out on more drinkable beers. Alan's example is Allagash Special; I could point toward the sadly retired Boulevard Saison, which has made way for the more alcoholic but less impressive Tank 7.

If the Saison didn't sell so well in the 75cl bottles, maybe Boulevard should revive it in packaging we can afford. Then watch what happens.