Amon Amarth (A)beer, Decibel #80, June 2011

We recently got word from one of the most metal brewers in the U.S., Barnaby Struve of Three Floyds, that he and the 3Fs crew were going to be collaborating with Amon Amarth on a new beer. So, of course, we used that as an excuse to talk brewskis with Amon Amarth vocalist Johan Hegg.

You’ve obviously grown up with European beer, but what do you think of American craft-brewed beer?
JOHAN HEGG: Personally I think that some of the most interesting and best beer in the world comes from the United States, and it’s almost exclusively microbrewery stuff.

Are there specific beers in the U.S. that you look forward to drinking when you’re on tour?
HEGG: Most definitely so. Beer such as Fat Tire, Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout, Old Viscosity, the list could go on. It’s actually quite easy to get a hold of a lot of these beers in Sweden, maybe easier than in the US even, as some of these beers are not sold nationwide. That makes it difficult [for us] to be specific on a tour rider [in America], but that’s still pretty cool ’cause we usually ask for local microbrewery stuff. Sometimes you get to try some really good stuff that you didn’t know about before.

Are there European beers that you can’t get over in North America that you miss when on tour?
HEGG: I wouldn’t say I miss them, ‘cause, as I said, there are some really good beers in the U.S., but I do have some Scandinavian microbrewery favorites, like Orebro Bitter, Kaggen Stormaktsporter, Bedaro Bitter, Jarntorgets Arbetarporter and St Erik’s Pilsner. Apart from that, I quite like common beers such as Guinness, Staropramen, Fuller’s ESB.


We hear that you’re brewing up an Amon Amarth beer with Three Floyds. How did that come about?
HEGG: They contacted us to make an Amon Amarth beer, and since I knew about Three Floyds from before, and I know it’s a very, very good brewery, we pretty much jumped on the chance to create a pretty unique beer.

What kind of beer will it be?
HEGG: Well, Three Floyds are well known for their “extreme” beers, so we felt we wanted to do something pretty extreme and different that also relates to the new album, Surtur Rising, and our Viking theme. So, together with the guys at Three Floyds we decided to do a Imperial Smoked Honey Porter. I have never really come across any beer like that before, so I’m very curious as to how it will turn out. I’m personally a big fan of porter and stout, so I think this was a great idea.

What’s your favorite country to tour in as far as beer-drinking goes?
HEGG: Wow, that’s a tough one. In the U.S. you can get so much cool stuff if you go to the right places, but then again Ireland, Britain, Germany, Belgium and Czech Republic are some countries with great beer traditions. And going to a proper pub in Ireland or England is hard to top.

Favorite styles of beer?
HEGG: I like almost all beers, but it depends on the mood I’m in. Usually I prefer to drink stouts, porters or bitter ales, but on a hot summer day nothing really beats an ice-cold Czech style pilsner.

Adem Tepedelen suggests Amon Amarth use beermapping.com when planning their next U.S. tour.

There's More Than One Kind of Oktoberfest, Decibel #79, May 2011

It'll no doubt pain our esteemed editor-in-chief to read this, but one of the best beer moments we experienced in 2010 was the night a a free-swinging pipsqueak of an outfielder named Cody Ross took Roy Halladay yard not once, but twice and set the tone for the ensuing NLCS, and the Philadelphia Phillies' ultimate demise in the playoffs.

But let's be clear, what made our favorite beer-drinking evening so great wasn't that the Phillies lost to the San Francisco Giants 4-3 in Game 1 of the NLCS. That was just the backdrop to the evening we spent at the famed Toronado Pub in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury District.

As we write this, the Toronado is wrapping up its annual Barleywine Festival, which is held every year during San Francisco Beer Week. Well into its second decade, the barleywine fest has helped put Toronado on the beer map. Every year 50-plus barleywines from across the U.S. vie for supremacy, and visitors come from around the world to get a taste of the incredible variety of high-octane brews on tap. It's all the more impressive that the Toronado hosts the event when you consider that this rather modest tavern (it's a dive bar, if we're being totally honest) features a "cozy" interior dominated by a well-worn bar crowded with dozens of taps.

Not surprisingly, it was filled to capacity when we made our way there from SFO, during a four-plus-hour layover, specifically to drink some beer at the famed Toronado. But the crowd on that pleasant October evening weren't just there for the brews; they came to watch the Giants on TV and drink great beer. The fact that over the course of a few pints we saw Tim Lincecum and his Giants teammates dominate a team led by (soon-to-be) Cy Young winner Halladay made for an electric experience to say the least.

The beer kicked ass, too. Since it was October, we limited our choices to fresh-hopped brewskis, and, man, did we hit the jackpot. While we can't remember the the specific names of any of them (sorry), the offerings from both local notables Russian River and Moonlight were everything we were hop(p)ing for, exploding with vibrant, fruity/cannabis aromas, but well balanced on the palate with soft malts and bracing bitterness.

And then we got hungry. Though Toronado doesn't sell food, you can bring in whatever you want, and they just happen to be next to Rosamunde Sausage Grill, a little hole in the wall that cooks your tube steak to order. We got a bratwurst piled with kraut, grilled onions and yellow mustard, and went back to the bar to resume our drinking/baseball watching. Leaving to catch a plane was tough, but we departed happy (=drunk) and well-fed, with the Giants in the middle of soundly trouncing the Phillies and an ecstatic buzz emanating through the bar.

We can't recommend the Toronado highly enough, but we must also warn readers thinking to visit of a couple things before they go. First, it's cash-only. The beer is cheap, though, so you won't need to bring much. Second, the bartenders will treat you well if you do the same. Know what you want to order, be polite and you'll get great service. Act like a douche and you'll get what you deserve.

The last thing is, try beers you never heard of before. Because of its rep, Toronado gets stuff you likely won't see everywhere (and did we mention that their jukebox totally rules?). Take advantage of that fact and maybe your own shining beer moment of 2011 will happen in that very same spot.

Please feel free to invite Adem Tepedelen to your favorite local beer-drinking establishment: BrewtalTruth at shaw dot ca.

An Open Letter to BC Craft Brewers

Please stop being timid and apologetic. Please stop brewing “crossover” beers. Please stop trying to engage a portion of the beer-drinking population that will never drink your beers. Please take more chances. Please make the beers that you want to brew. Please focus on quality and creativity.

BC craft brewers, you have been needlessly kowtowing to the masses for far too long. There have been brewpubs and craft breweries in the province for nearly 30 years now, and it’s just recently that full-flavoured styles such as India Pale Ale have become relatively common. In your efforts to please everyone and “convert” Lucky drinkers to craft beer with featureless, unobtrusive ales and equally unremarkable lagers, you have missed the opportunity to convince the roughly 10 percent of the population who are truly receptive to craft beer that you have something remarkable to offer.

When Sierra Nevada founders Ken Grossman and Paul Camusi brewed and released their now legendary Pale Ale in 1980, nobody in the U.S. was clamouring for a well-hopped pale ale. Bitterness in beer was considered a bad thing by most Americans. But by having faith in the quality of their product, they started converting people one drinker at a time. They didn’t start out making a "cream ale" or a "lightly hopped amber" so as not to discourage Bud drinkers. They put out a well-made flavourful beer and let the people who were receptive to it hop aboard. And if Miller Lite drinkers didn’t like it, well, Grossman and Camusi weren’t going to change their minds anyway.

The craft beer movement in the U.S. was founded on the idea of creativity—taking traditional European styles and reinterpreting them. U.S. brewers (and craft brewers around the world) continue to try new things and blur the lines between traditional styles. The possibilities are endless! New categories of beer are literally created annually for judging at the Great American Beer Festival.

BC craft brewers, you need to lead, not follow. Introduce people to new styles and bold flavours. Stand behind them and be proud of them. It’s even more vital that you do this now as U.S. craft beer continues to cross the border in greater and greater quantities. U.S. craft beer exports were up 28 percent in 2010 and Canada was one of the top three markets (along with Sweden and the UK) for that beer.

As a result, BC’s craft-beer drinkers are more sophisticated than ever, so don’t be afraid to challenge them. Ignore the segment of the population that wants its mass-produced pale lagers. They are not your market and most never will be. Focus on, and please, the eager consumers who want to expand their palates and constantly try new stuff. Those are your people. They are bloggers, writers, CAMRA members, festival organizers and outspoken advocates for something they love. Take care of them and you’ll ultimately be rewarded.

The Good Guys

We're going to somewhat veer off the usual theme here to simply acknowledge a couple of companies that really went out of their way to make sure that a customer—that would be yours truly—was satisfied.

To make a long story short, we bought on two different occasions a Brouwerij Van Steenberge Belgian Sampler 6-pack from a local liquor store. In both cases the Gulden Draak included in the sampler was completely flat. They were from the same batch. Since we had consumed all the other beers in the sampler, we didn't think it was reasonable to return it to the store where we purchased it. Instead we tried contacting the local sales rep for the brand's importer, Bravo Beer Co. We got no response, so we thought we should at least let Brouwerij Van Steenberge know about the quality control issue.

We heard back from the brewery almost immediately. They apologized and graciously offered to send us replacement bottles and glasses. We said, "sure!" not knowing the bureaucracy we would face clearing it through Canadian customs. Suffice it to say that the beer remains in customs' hands and will ultimately be destroyed by them, because the price for clearing it would have been close to $90. What a waste.

We then tried contacting Bravo (who, BTW, import a great selection of Belgian and UK beers) again, but this time we sent our email to the main office and heard back immediately. And, like Brouwerij Van Steenberge, they were very apologetic about the whole situation and very much wanted to make good. They offered to reimburse us for the cost of the two 6-packs and also send us some Brouwerij Van Steenberge glasses. Sure enough, a week later it all showed up.

So, we just want to acknowledge both Bravo and Brouwerij Van Steenberge. We encourage you to support both. The craft beer industry is mostly a tight-knit one full of good folk, but it's still heartening to have both of these companies really make an effort to please their customers. Thanks again!

1187 The Number of the Yeast, Decibel 78, April 2011

Even the most clueless, indifferent beer drinker can probably recite the four basic ingredients it takes to make beer: barley, hops, water and yeast. We’ve heard it enough times in the various beer commercials that it’s common knowledge whether you give a shit about good beer or not.

Once you get down to the finer details, there’s all kinds of stuff to be learned about barley and hops—from the numerous varieties of hops and their different flavor and aroma profiles to the degree of roasting of the malt and the flavors and colors that produces. As for water, it has a definite influence on a beer’s flavor, but it can be massively manipulated to basically eliminate “local flavor.”

And then there’s yeast. For whatever reason, it ain’t cool to talk about yeast, but it’s really what turns grain, vegetal matter and water into intoxicating beery deliciousness. Without yeast, we can assure you that you would not give a crap about a beverage made with barley, hops and water. Because without yeast, that beverage would maybe taste OK (if not a little sweet and flat) but it sure as shit wouldn’t get you loaded. Yeast, a sugar-loving fungus, makes that magic happen, as it turns those sugars into ethanol (alcohol) and carbon dioxide.

But yeast doesn’t just do the work to create an alcoholic beverage, it can add specific flavors to a beer. And here’s where we get into the finer details. There are, for instance, two major strains of brewing yeast (which is technically a fungus): Saccharomyces cerevisiae, a top-fermenting yeast used in ales, and Saccharomyces carlsbergensis, a bottom-fermenting yeast used to make lagers (and the many related styles).

But even within these two strains, there are literally hundreds of different varieties capable of producing slightly different flavor profiles. In fact, it’s not uncommon for breweries to develop proprietary house yeasts that always give them the flavor they want. That distinctive Budweiser flavor ain’t the “beech wood aging,” it’s their own special yeast strain. Use those same ingredients, same beech wood aging, etc. with a different yeast, and it wouldn’t taste like Bud.

That’s why companies like White Labs in San Diego and Wyeast Laboratories in Oregon have numbers for their various strains, each producing the characteristics a brewer may be looking for to make a specific style. There’s even territory to explore beyond lager and ale yeasts.

Though they are now considered “bad bugs” for most standard brews (you’ll see why in a minute), wild yeast strains of the Brettanomyces genus were important in transforming wort (the malt, water, hops mixture) into beer long before the microbiology of fermentation was understood. If vats of the sweet liquid were left open to the air, these wild yeasts would turn it into an intoxicating beverage.

However, Brettanomyces or “brett” produces some sourness and other funkier flavors (from “barnyard” to spicy cloves) that on their own can be a little off-putting. Many brewers today, however, utilize brett along with standard brewing yeasts to create the really interesting, complex flavor profiles we generally associate with Belgian beers.

So, as much as hops and malt (with the various different degrees of roasting) can affect the taste of a beer, don’t discount the effect of the yeast, especially if a beer has been bottle-conditioned (a dose of yeast added just before it’s capped to add carbonation and flavor), in giving your favorite brew that certain flavor that others don’t seem to have.

Adem Tepedelen enjoys drinking the silty, yeasty backwash in the bottom of a bottle-conditioned beer.

Love That Lager, Decibel 77, March 2011

There’s nothing worse than an elitist beer geek. The kind of guy (yeah, it’s almost always a dude) who is sure that his taste in ridiculously expensive, fussed over brews is far superior to whatever it is you’re into. We, on the other hand, realize that not everyone has the same palate/taste when it comes liquid refreshment and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. We may not share your enjoyment for, say, a frosty Busch Light, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get why you like it.

In fact, the majority of beer drinkers in the US (and probably worldwide) are simply looking for an experience that doesn’t go much beyond wanting to catch a buzz from a refreshing, easy-drinking barley pop. Thus the proliferation of pale lagers. Even in countries like Germany, England and Belgium, where some of the iconic brews of the world originated, most people reach for a pale lager of some description.

But here’s the thing, this style doesn’t have to be lacking in character and interesting flavor, as many of the more popular American versions are. A well-made pale lager can be a sublime thing in the right hands. We rounded up some top American brewers to give us the lowdown on a beer style that has perhaps been unfairly maligned.

Is it any harder to make a good flavorful pale lager than, say, a pale ale?

BARNABY STRUVE (Three Floyds): Making a technically “clean” pale lager takes the same sound brewing techniques it takes to make a pale ale. Where the difference comes in is that lagers have a much more subtle, crisp and less fruity flavor profile than most pale ales so any off flavors will come screaming through.

TONY MAGEE (Lagunitas): Do bears go to mass on Sunday? Does the Pope defecate rurally? Uh, yes. Waaaaayy yes!

What, in your estimation, are the hallmarks of a quality pale lager?

MAGEE: The palest of color, extra clean palate, a firm hop spine, a soft and malty thorax, and crisp finish. Oh, and it's easy to slam 'em down, too.

GARRETT OLIVER (Brooklyn): [It] should be very direct and clean, without lots of extraneous fruit or spicy flavors unless these are derived from hops. Lagers can certainly be very hoppy, and Brooklyn Lager is dry-hopped.

Is it hard to sell pale lagers to craft beer drinkers?

OLIVER: I think it's only now that consumers—especially craft beer enthusiasts—have become more sophisticated that people won't reject a helles or pilsner out of hand. That said, you still hear some craft brewers speaking derisively about “yellow beer.” Well, some of my favorite beers are yellow, but they're not boring.

TODD HAUG (Surly): We brew a helles called Surly Hell—all malt, 4.7% ABV, unfiltered—and we cannot make enough. True beer drinkers respect a well-made lager.

What are some of your favorite pale American lagers (micro or macro) and why?

STRUVE: Surly Hell is the beer to go for. It's an amazingly tasty beer that is an accurate reflection of the traditional helles style, and it’s named Hell.

HAUG: Full Sail Session Black [Lager]—loads of flavor in a low-ABV clean lager, and it's black. And, of course, Surly Hell.

OLIVER: I like Victory's Prima Pils; it's very individualistic, but still manages to express itself as somewhat old-school. Like our Brooklyn Pilsner, it's notably hoppier than most German pilsners these days. I've had some nice pints of Sierra Nevada's Glissade. On the lighter side, but still pleasant, I like Full Sail's Session Lager.

MAGEE: Mine, Lagunitas Pils. Why? Because we make it, of course. The very best next-in-line is Victory Prima Pils, but that is only because we don’t make it!

Adem Tepedelen drinks your milkshake, or your beer, or whatever else he can get his hands on.

A Double IPA By Any Other Name, Decibel 76, Feb. 2011

One of my own personal beer-related fantasies involves being a judge in a beer competition. Something like the one held at the annual Great American Beer Festival (GABF) in Denver every fall, where hundreds of breweries compete in 79 different stylistic categories. Yes, that number is correct: 79. See if you can name 20 different styles, smart guy. We would be hard pressed to do the same.

Sure, there’s a fair amount of hair-splitting involved in the competition—hell, IPAs are dispersed into three categories: English style, American style and Imperial—but there are also new categories added practically annually. Which brings us to the real point: are the ever-increasing number of beer style names starting to lose meaning to the average consumer, much in the same way that metal has been sliced and diced into ridiculously obscure and fairly pointless subgenres?

We touched on this subject a bit in a previous column in regards to Cascadian Dark Ale (aka Black IPA, India Brown Ale, etc.), but with all the crazy style-mashing and experimentation, brewers are coming up with beers that just defy any sort of useful description. A few years ago, Lagunitas did a series of tribute brews to Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention’s first few albums and this is, verbatim, how owner Tony Magee described two of them to us in an interview: “a showcase for Amarillo hops on a wheaty base” and “an imperial brown thing.” Obviously the GABF doesn’t (yet?) have categories for those two admittedly experimental brews, but it does speak to the nature of brewing nomenclature, which is becoming less and less useful.

Imagine (insert big independent metal label name here) putting out a new record by a band and promoting it as, I dunno, “Scandinavian death ‘n’ roll,” or some such random nonsense. So, you buy it, listen to it and think, “this sounds more like melodic blackened death thrash to me.” Now, it’d probably be a little too facile to say it’s all just goddamn heavy metal and should simply be labeled as such, because clearly there are some significant style differences between Agoraphobic Nosebleed and Holy Grail. It’s the same with beer. There are obviously significant style differences between IPAs and brown ales, so just calling everything “ale” is insufficient. What’s confusing things in the beer world, however, is the labeling.

Fellow Decibel contributor Etan Rosenbloom sent us two beers—Avery’s Maharaja Imperial IPA and Port Brewing’s Hop-15 Double IPA—that, had you poured them for us blind, we would have sworn were West Coast-style barleywines. Both had alcohol levels right around 10% ABV and both were on the sweeter side and mega-hopped. One brewery called theirs a “Double IPA,” the other an “Imperial IPA.” We called them both barleywines.

Who’s right? Does it matter? We think it does. We’re not going to suggest that some governing body dictate what beer labels say, but it’d be cool if brewers either made an effort to adhere to the Brewers Association guidelines for their more conventional beers and just did the Tony Magee thing—“a showcase for Amarillo hops on a wheaty base”—for any of their more experimental ones.

Adem Tepedelen realizes that beer cannot be sent via email, but solicitations to mail him beer can be: BrewtalTruth at shaw dot ca.