C-A-S-K in the U.S.A.

Cask ale in America. Tricky topic, if you're used to understanding cask ale as something like the "real ale" defined by CAMRA. Good luck with that in the States, outside of certain festivals and a very few pubs where casks actually manage to turn over quickly because people are drinking them quickly. That's why God invented cask ale, after all. So people could drink it quickly.

I'm still working it out -- I have this feeling that the answers are all up there in my brain, but the parts are still disassembled -- but in the meantime I share three ideas. Directions of thought. Conversation starters. Theories. Things. Meanwhile I'd like to thank Tom Cizauskas for educating me in July when I was in the D.C. area (Fireworks Pizza and Galaxy Hut that evening, if you're curious). My lack of clarity on this topic is no fault of his.

1. American cask ale is not new. We can see it as trendy, if we want, since beer-specialist bars have been adding more of them lately, or so it seems. But let's call it a comeback. Cask has been part of the American micro/craft beer movement for a good long while. Got that, whippersnappers? Let's keep this in perspective. In Maryland alone: Bertha's Mussels, not what anyone would call a beer bar, has had cask ale since the 1980s. The Wharf Rat, also on Fell's Point, has had a beer engine since the mid-1990s, Cizauskas said. Maryland had Steve Parkes' British Brewing Company starting in 1988, later re-named Oxford. According to Cizauskas, British was Maryland's first micro since Prohibition, and its first beer was the cask-conditioned Oxford Class Amber. Let me re-state that: Maryland's first modern craft beer 24 years ago was a cask ale. I suspect we'd find similar stories elsewhere, especially on the East Coast.

2. Without breathers, there would be much less American cask ale. CAMRA wouldn't approve, so let's call it a practical American compromise. Cask breathers allow a small amount of Co2 to enter the cask, extending its life. Most American beer bars simply can't turn over a cask in a few days, not if they want to keep them around at all times. One example on my summer jaunt: Old Speckled Hen at the Farmers Gastropub in my hometown, Springfield, Missouri. Not my favorite beer, but I love the idea that I can have a pint of cask ale there. Without a breather it wouldn't be possible -- except on those special nights when Mother's brings in a firkin. Folks drink it the same night, naturally, as they do for special cask events at brewpubs and beer bars across the country these days. Special cask events are nice. Reliable, ever-present casks are even nicer.

3. Choices for what to put in those casks is often interesting, often poor. In Missouri and again in the D.C. area, most of the cask options I saw this summer were 6% or stronger. Often they were IPAs or otherwise high in bitterness, missing the extra bubbles that are frankly needed to scrape the resin off the tongue and help make them drinkable. The thinking, if there is any, might be, "Casks are special, the beer in them ought to be special, and special beer ought to be strong and hoppy!" Meanwhile brewers and bars are missing a chance to showcase the beauty and complexity of lighter ales, where cask has its real advantage over keg. Another way to think about it: Cask conditioning can help not-so-special beers taste very special indeed.

Like I say, I'm still working it out. I'd love to hear more thoughts and arguments on American cask ale from absolutely anyone. More than anything, I think, I'm unclear on what all those beer bars out there are actually doing with their casks -- breathers? turning it over faster than I think? key kegs? -- so it would be interesting to hear some examples.

Top photo is from Pratt Street Ale House, home of Olivers Ales, Max's Taphouse in Baltimore. Lower one is from Fireworks Pizza in Arlington, Virginia. Text CORRECTED to say that Wharf Rat has had cask since mid-1990s, not 1980s.

Of Beer and Twisters.

Back in Springfield, Missouri, there were three topics dominating local conversation: Dorial Green-Beckham, the Joplin tornado, and Mother's Brewing.

Green-Beckham is a high school football player and probably the area's most promising athlete, ever (golfer Payne Stewart notwithstanding). The tornado, as you might have heard, was America's deadliest in more than 60 years. More than three months later locals are focused on fund-raising and recovery. Mother's, meanwhile, is the sort of production brewery that my hometown of 160,000 people had lacked for too long.

Mother's opened on May 14. Mother's Day, more or less. The tornado struck nearby Joplin eight days later. I visited the brewery last week, on August 24. Earlier that day, these two filthy Mother's kegs arrived at the brewery, making their long-awaited return--from Joplin. Recovery workers only recently found them amid the rubble.

The kegs most likely came from Pizza By Stout. Opened in 1978, that pizza joint was one of many local institutions destroyed by the tornado. The Stout family recently announced on the restaurant's website that they would not rebuild.

It's worth noting that Mother's held a benefit concert for Joplin on May 26. It raised $15,000.

More about Mother's: Marketing guy Jeremy Wicks has done a whiz-bang job with local branding. (Check out the logo painted on exposed brick at the J.O.B. Public House, which I liked so much I'll save it for a future post.) Draft beers have been around since May, but bottles went on sale locally just this week. The tasting room is open for at least a few hours, four days a week, which is just plain civilized if you ask me.

My take on the beers in 60 words: The Towhead blonde and other lighter offerings are all highly drinkable without ducking real hop character. The L'il Helper is too resinously bitter to be my cup of, um, IPA. But for a favorite I'll tap the Three Blind Mice, whose German Altbier influence was as clear as I'd hoped. Overall, they are beers meant for drinking.

To try them you'll have to get down to the Ozarks... although it's always possible that future success or freak tornadoes could send them farther abroad.

Show Me the Brews.

I'm a Missouri guy, but this isn't a Missouri blog. It's a big world, after all. But several times in the coming weeks you're going to have to indulge me. We're getting ready for a trip home in August and I've got a fat steaming pile of research to do. The notebook spills over into the blog. You know how it goes.

So today my theme is the Cave State. (Ah, now there's an idea: Some Missouri micro needs to start cave-aging their beers, a la Grottenbier. Or Kellerbier.)

Brew in the Lou: For weeks I've been meaning to tell you more about Evan Benn's new book. So here goes: It's not so much a guidebook as a primer on the local beer history and current beer scene. It's exactly what a beer geek would want to read if she were moving to St. Louis and wanted the lay of the land. It's not a reference so much as a collection of feature articles that focus on different themes--from the city's natural beer caves (hello? anyone listening?) to food pairings to future breweries. For sheer usefulness, my two favorite pages are 152 and 153, which include contact details for every present and near-future brewery in the metro area. Evan's writing is lively, there are lots of gorgeous photos, and the book will make you thirsty.

My biggest knock against it: No index. Being able to look up local breweries or beers by name would have added a lot of utility.

St. Loser beer enthusiasts ought to own it. Geeks coming for a visit ought to give it some serious thought. It can be had for 20 duckets from the Post-Dispatch. (Full disclosure: I received a free copy to review.)

St. Louis Craft Beer Week runs from July 30 to August 7, which means that I am going to miss the whole damn thing by exactly one day. That might be why newly christened St. Loser Stan Hieronymous told me, and I quote, "There will be no beer in St. Louis when you get here." So I would like to formally discourage all of you from attending any of these events, and suggest that maybe you should stay home and drink water. Awful hot out there.

Will radio kill the banking computer technician star? My brother Ben Stange is so geeky about beer that he makes me look like a Miller Lite. Down in Springfield, Mo., he's launching a radio show called Beer Buzz, sponsored by Mother's Brewing Company. It'll air at 4 p.m. this Sunday, and every Sunday until he is told to stop, on a couple of local stations and online at TAGsgf.com.

Topic of the first show is hops. His first guest? None other than the aforementioned Mr. Hieronymous. Should be fun.

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.

Word to Your Mother's.

Those guys in the photo, talking beer and drinking it, are Jeremy Wicks, Brian Allen and Jeff Schrag. Their new production brewery, called Mother's, is set to launch any day now in Springfield, Missouri.

That's my hometown. It's not really a small town, but it thinks and acts like one. I went to high school with Jeremy, who's the marketeer. Brian is the brewmaster. Jeff is the owner.

Thanks to my brother,* I met them just after Christmas at a place called Farmer's Gastropub--a good place that I'll tell you more about sometime. Jeff and Jeremy tell the jokes. Brian is the brewing veteran, the consummate pro who knows exactly what he's doing and why. Previously he made beer for Beer Works of Boston as well as Capital Brewing and Fox River of Wisconsin. My hunch is that these guys are going to do all right.

Mother's is a good name. On May 14 they're having a big party for Mother's Day, when they'll also launch their summer seasonal. There will be a pizza truck and a wiener truck. There will be a couple of excellent local bands, including Big Smith and Speakeasy. I went to high school with a bunch of those guys too. I swear this city has 160,000 people. You just have to take my word for that.

I've written about Springfield beer before. The Springfield Brewing Co. specializes in highly drinkable, technically perfect beers, most of which would not excite many geeks. They are ordinary craft beers made well by Mr. Wizard himself, Ashton Lewis. Earlier I speculated that there must be something in the water for a town to produce me, Brad Pitt, and such totally decent beer. Later Ashton told me that he strips all the water down to RO before rebuilding it. So much for that theory.

Mother's will have a tasting room. So now you know what to do when you stop in Springfield on your way down Route 66. Or visit the national headquarters of Bass Pro Shops. And Rad Brad knows what to do when he goes home for the holidays. I guess he will have to get Angelina's permision first. If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

The Pitts donated $1 million for a cancer treatment center in Springfield. It's named for Brad's own mother, Jane. See? That's just how we roll.

*My brother Ben sometimes writes about beer locally here. He also dreams of opening a micro. I dream of drinking there.