Craft Beer and Christian Spirituality

Based on the title above, it might be hard to appreciate that what follows could in anyway be a serious exposé – especially given that in some Christian circles alcohol is, well to put it bluntly, entirely of the devil. To my way of thinking though, linking Christian spirituality and craft beer has some promising possibilities.

Let me have a go…

In the church genre that I grew up in, alcohol was something frowned upon. Those involved in church leadership were required to refrain from drinking. A staunch adherence to this (not something practiced by all leaders) meant a cold pint on a hot summer day was off-limits. By implication it also meant that if time travel had been possible and you could have attended that famous first-century wedding in Cana, you would have been prohibited from toasting the bride with that most divine of red wines! Imagine that, imagine not being able to sip away on a lovely glass of “Mother’s Command,” that one-off Canaan Syrah, heralded by one sommelier as the finest of the fine wines! [Vintner Jesus Christ. Vintage approx. 29 AD). Certainly, for me, the thought of turning down a glass (or two) of this delectable oinos in favour of a raspberry lemonade, well, it puts my head in a spin.

Writing in Tasting Beer, connoisseur Randy Mosher makes the following comment regarding those who came-of-age during America’s prohibition; “A whole generation grew up viewing alcohol as forbidden fruit, which makes it all the more tempting, but in a dirty, creepy sort of way.”[1] This is a keen observation, and something that is often true, especially when that which is forbidden is actually something that can be engaged-with in an appropriate manner. Likely, some who came-of-age in a “church of prohibition” ended up with a perverted attraction to alcohol as well, at least in their younger years. More common though, would be a more basic and legalistic type objection to alcohol: it is evil, bad, wrong, unwise, to be avoided at all costs, dangerous and corrupt. Essentially, you could say, something to be feared.

Too much fear though (and too much worship), empowers realities within creation that were never intended to be feared, worshipped or empowered. It establishes them as what the Bible calls principalities and powers; false gods. Most ancient cultures venerated a god of wine or beer; Dionysus was the Greek god of wine, Liber the Roman. Ninkasi was the Sumerian god of beer, Sucellus the Celtic god of ale. In our twenty-first century context, we may not refer to these gods by name, nevertheless many people still live either in the worship of, or the fear of, alcohol as a false god. There is a better way.

Alcohol is neither to be feared or worshiped; this is the domain of God alone. Alcohol is an entity within creation and should be related to accordingly and not empowered inappropriately. This requires wisdom, something which should be about as clear and obvious as the chocolate in Behemoth’s Triple Chocolate Milk Stout. i.e. pretty darn obvious! But this is the point. When you practice wisdom in situations where it is obviously required, it makes it that much easier to practice wisdom in areas where it doesn’t seem so necessary. By making alcohol a “forbidden-fruit,” even with the best intentions of keeping people safe, it removes the need to learn wisdom, and instead, promotes avoidance, disengagement, and disapproval. Certainly, these are appropriate concepts at times, but wisdom trumps them all. 

Further, when we don’t learn to exercise wisdom where it is obviously needed, it makes it that much harder to learn how to exercise wisdom in areas where the need is less obvious. We get lulled into a false dualism where things are either “bad” and to be avoided, or “good” and anything goes. The world doesn’t work like that though. There is no such thing as anything goes. Every facet of life requires wisdom in some way, shape or form.

Sin hasn’t only damaged humanities relationship with God, it has also damaged the internal relationship we have with our very own self, with other people, and with the rest of the created world we live in. As a result, everything can and does get out of hand if one’s not careful. Wisdom is needed in all things; the food we eat; how much we sleep; the technology we develop and how we use it; the exercise we engage in; how we look after our lakes and rivers; how we engage with social media; the way we manage our fisheries; the forests we cut down to plant crops; how we organise social infrastructure; the sugar we consume; the television we devour; the stories we allow to frame our lives; the stories we resist. And on, and on, and on.

Avoidance doesn’t teach wisdom.

Selah

So firstly, when it comes to alcohol the movement needs to be away from worship (at one end of the spectrum and sadly highlighted by alcoholism), and away from inappropriate fear (at the other end of the spectrum and often expressed in legalism), and towards a relationship of wisdom.

In wisdom, one can then make choices about abstinence or consumption, free of both fear and lust (inappropriate desire), and free from any need to judge the choices of another.

The obvious need to develop wisdom in relation to alcohol serves as a catalyst in developing wisdom in areas of life that don’t immediately appear to require wisdom.

Selah

Everything so far, I think, is good stuff, but the link to Christian spirituality is still probably a little tentative. Craft beer turns things up a notch though, so let’s push on.

In contrast to growing up in a church genre opposed to alcohol, for many Christians in the monastic communities of Belgium, cottage industry craft brewing served as a standard means by which they’d raise the funds necessary to support the life of their order. Modern churches pass the bucket and look for wealthy donors, but the older monastic orders would brew fine ales and export them around the world. How cool is that?! Surely a possibility for St Luke’s, especially given St Luke is the Patron Saint of Brewers?

The more famous of these monastic breweries are referred to as Trappist breweries and are run by Catholic monks who live as cloistered contemplatives, in accordance with the Rule of St. Benedict. Over the years many of the successful Trappist breweries have been bought out by industrial brewing companies, and their beers are now referred to as “Abby” beers. There are still eleven officially recognised Trappist breweries running today. Six of these are Belgium monasteries; Achel, Chimay, Orval, Rochefort, Westmalle, and Westvletren. The others are in Holland (2), Austria, Italy, and the United States.

To be designated a Trappist brewery there are certain criteria that must be met.

Firstly, the beer must be brewed within the walls of a Trappist monastery, either by the monks themselves or under their supervision. The brewery cannot be relocated as an industrial enterprise.

Secondly, the brewery and the beer must be of secondary importance to the monastery. In other words, the monastery’s main reason for existence must be monastic pursuits; contemplation, prayer, the study of Scripture, service and the worship of God. The brewing of beer comes after these endeavors.

Thirdly, the brewery is not to be an unfettered capitalistic-type profit-making venture. The income drawn from the production and sale of beer is to cover the living expenses of the monks and the maintenance of the monastic buildings and grounds. After that, any other profits are to be donated to charity.

Trappist beer is thus brewed in smaller quantities than other beers. On average 4,400,000 litres per year. The least per year is 200,000 litres (Tre Fontane Abbey and Stift Engelszell), the most is 14,500,000 litres per year (La Trappe which you can find in your local New World Supermarket here in NZ). While this is a lot more than your average homebrewer, it is a long way short of companies like AB InBev which owns 500 different beer brands, with multiple beers brewed under each brand, including the likes of Corona (985,320,000 litres), and Bud-Light (something like 14,662,500,000 litres). That’s a thousand times more beer than the largest Trappist produce, and that’s only one beer within 500 different beer brands.

La Trappe (Holland - 1884) 

These smaller quantities are not to suggest that Trappist beers are second rate; far from it, Westvletren is widely regarded as the worlds “best” beer. It is hard to get one’s hands on though, as it is generally only sold at the actual gate of the monastery in Belgium. By the time it does get to New Zealand, if it does get that far, being so rare the price skyrockets. A 330ml bottle goes for $101 NZD (Belgian Beer Café off Queen Street, Auckland).

Here though, we’ve craft beer at its finest. We’ve monks brewing away, in all things working whole heartedly for the glory of God (Colossians 3:23). We’ve intense flavour profiles, delicious to some, off-putting to others – but that doesn’t matter, it’s not being brewed for mass consumption but rather for connoisseur-like enjoyment. The connoisseur part is important. We’ll come back to this in a minute.

How is this for a business ethic though!?!

1) The business, in this case beer, is secondary to the main pursuits of life; prayer, study, service, worship, community. Business is a means, but not the end in and of itself. But, rather than money being the end, other pursuits are the end.

2) Statutes of limitation are put in place; the goal is not maximum production and profit. One knows when to stop. This makes space for others; monopolization is avoided, which creates gaps in the market that other business can fill and in doing so creates jobs and opportunities for others to flourish in life.

3) The product produced is top shelf quality. It never sets out to be a mass produced, or appeal to as many as possible type product. In this case, one-size-fits-all beer-flavoured-water (Bud-Light). It’s happy to be unique even to the point of alienating some while appealing to others.

4) Once a certain level of profit is achieved the rest is donated to charity to make the world a better place. The business exists mindful of the needs of the wider community within which the business operates. There is a concern for one’s neighbours.

One of the key attributes of wisdom is awareness. This is business awareness at its finest.

So before we even get to talk about conscientious consumption, Trappist beer hits us with conscientious production – this is awesome!

Selah.

Most craft beers are produced with a “similar” ethos. Though the profit and the charitable aims wouldn’t align. Nevertheless, they are small batch brewing with little desire (or hope of) monopolizing the market. (And, when certain craft beer breweries take off, eventually “selling-out” to the big multinationals, more often than not, consumers are annoyed and often move on to other brands – Emmerson’s, Ballast Point etc.). In terms of flavours, craft beers offer deep, contrasting, complementary, complex, and sometimes even off-putting flavours.

Ultimately these beers aren’t designed for mass production or mass consumption, they are so flavoursome they actually fatigue the pallet. Like a good lemon meringue pie, the first piece is simply divine, once you’ve had that you’re pretty much done. “A second piece?” “Ah, no thank you.” Craft beer is a bit like that. Randy Mosher, again in Tasting Beer explains; “Large brewers know that their drinkers value drinkability above all else. Drinkability basically requires drinkers to stop drinking because they know it is time to stop even though they don’t want to. [Though of course many consumers don’t]. Hence the bitterness in mainstream beers is incredibly low, and corn and rice is often used instead of malt. The beer is light and watery. In contrast, the complexity of the hoppy bitterness and malty caramel in craft beer are intended to fatigue the pallet.”[2]  (Paraphrased).

Hence, craft beer is really an invitation to drink as a connoisseur rather than simply as a consumer. And this is the big game changer.  

The difference between a consumer and a connoisseur is ultimately one of awareness and appreciation. Consumers are mostly concerned with taste, convenience, price point, and quantity. Connoisseurs though, they want to know the bigger story. Where is the beer made? What is the brewer attempting to do? What flavour profiles should I be expecting pick up? What are the tasting notes that accompany this beer? How does this compare to other similar styles of beer? What’s the history of this style of beer? What is the alcohol percentage in is this beer? What glass would highlight the flavour profiles in this beer? What food should I match this beer with? Etc. etc..

The whole process is slower, more thoughtful, more engaged, more present. There is a deeper awareness of what is going on. Both in the production of the beer and in the consumption of the beer. As a result, one ends up paying more for less, but in return gets so much more. But the connoisseur is in their happy place.

With craft beer, it’s not about mowing the lawns, working up a sweat, and then popping the caps and chugging down a couple of bottles faster than you can say; “Heineken equals water,” rather as Mosher puts it; “Presentation is half the game. It’s not cheating. A great beer poured into a perfect glass at just the right temperature, in the best possible setting, with friends old and new should always be the goal. Anything else cheats the brewer and the drinker alike.”[3]

And then he describes drinking a beer as follows… “Consider the beer-filled glass in your hand. Look closely. Study the rich colour and slight viscosity [thickness] of the liquid. Observe the way the light plays on the shimmering highlights. Watch the bubbles as they form and rise lazily through the beer, adding to the creamy foam on the top, hushed and peaceful as a snowfall. Lift the glass to your lips, but first, pause to inhale and ponder the aroma. Draw in the bready, caramelly, or toasty foundation of malt, the brisk green counterpoint of hops, and the swirling cupboard of spices and fruit, earth and wood. These scents can fire off neurons in the forgotten happy corners of your memory, as powerful an experience as any art form. Finally, have a taste. The beer floods in, cool and crisp or warm and rich. Observe the first blush of flavour and the tart tingle of carbonation. As the beer warms in your mouth, it releases a new round of flavours and sensations: malty sweetness, bright herbal hops, a touch of toast, all building to a bittersweet crescendo. It’s not one single taste; it’s an ever-evolving cinematic experience unspooling as you drink. A soft inward breath stirs a new layer of beery perfume. The grand finale comes as a long-fading aftertaste, with lingering wisps of resin, toast, or honey, concluding perhaps with a gentle warming alcohol sensation in your throat.”[4] 

That’s just glorious.

He adds; “If you can read the meaning in these sensations, the whole history of brewing opens up, and the long process reveals itself in the beer."[5]

Or, perhaps you could put it like this; when you learn to drink like a connoisseur you discover an invitation into a story far bigger than you ever imagined, a story of golden barley fields, brew houses large and small, hop harvests, toasting racks, tasting notes, fermentation, contemplation and taste sensations.  

Ultimately, to drink as a connoisseur means to drink slowly, carefully, considerately, with some knowledge, with some awareness, with some appreciation and understanding of what is going on, with wisdom, with an eye to the far larger story.

When you add your Christian faith to that mix you’re not far away from engaging in a sacramental appreciation of life. Perhaps you could say it like this; connoisseur like appreciation is the doorway to sacramental living. Perhaps you could even say it like this; a Christian connoisseur can’t help but be a sacramental Christian.

And what is a sacramental Christian? One who finds their way to God via the signposts of everyday ordinary life. They are aware that there is no such thing as everyday ordinary life – it’s all a gift and part of a far bigger story. A story of grace and love and hope and possibility. Of a God who created the universe and looked at it all and said; “Good, good, good, good, and very good!”

When it comes to craft beer, a Christian connoisseur, as a sacramental Christian doesn’t simply drink with restraint (or abstain entirely when that is appropriate, aware of the dangers of over indulgence and not causing others to stumble etc.), that’s just entry level wisdom. Rather, they drink with eyes-wide-open to the wonder and glory of God. There is an enhanced degree of wisdom.

At the end of the day a Christian connoisseur – a sacramental Christian – takes the things of the world far more seriously than folk who think of themselves as worldly. Every facet of life is appreciated as a gift from God; the birds of the air, the stars of the night, the laughter of children, the glory of a sunset, the embrace of a friend, the intimacy of a spouse, the bread and wine of communion, the waters of baptism – and even craft beer. 

The glory is not the beer itself, but rather, the glory of God that it points to.

The secret is not the beer itself, (Liberty Brewing’s Knife Party IPA rather than Steinlager’s nonsense) but rather, the mindset of a connoisseur.

The call is not for everyone to suddenly start drinking craft beer, but rather to quit being a consumer and to become a connoisseur of life.

Our consumer driven, capitalist, modern growth economy requires an almost superficial attachment to people and things. We need to be free to follow the market – the new, the novel, the next thing. Spouse 2.0, church 5.0, iPhone 8.0, purchase 13.0 – moving from one thing to the next, devouring, consuming, forking out more dollars in the hope of finding satisfaction – you won’t!

Quit being a consumer and become a connoisseur. 

Consumers; they don’t like this or that or the other thing, they are never satisfied, they are quick to judge based on personal tastes and instant gratification. They are surface deep and miss what is going on.

Connoisseurs realise there is more to the story – their insight, understanding, appreciation, knowledge, grace, wisdom, and ultimately love – helps them to see things with different eyes.

God is not far off, God is near. God is not stingy, God is generous. God doesn’t add heavy loads, his yoke is easy and his burden is light. God is present in all things, it is in him that we live and move and have our being.

It’s all a gift to be savoured and should be appreciated with the passion of a connoisseur.

The call is to become a connoisseur of life!

A connoisseur of friendship.
A connoisseur of marriage.
A connoisseur of creation.
A connoisseur of parenting.

Connoisseurs realise it is all a gift from God. And that changes everything. There is a new awareness of the divine that begins to shape the entirety of one’s life. When wisdom discovers Wisdom everything changes.  

Colossians 1:15-20
We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God’s original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, he organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body. He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he’s there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.

Selah

The official Catholic prayer in relation to beer is as follows…

Priest: Our help is in the name of the Lord.
All: Who made heaven and earth.
Priest: The Lord be with you.
All: May He also be with you.
Priest: Let us pray. Lord, bless (make the sign of the cross +) this beer, which by your kindness and power has been produced from kernels of grain, and let it be a healthful drink for mankind. Grant that whoever drinks it with thanksgiving to your holy name may find it a help in body and in soul; through Christ our Lord.
All: Amen.

Craft beer and Christian spirituality – it’s a thing.
But really, it’s about a connoisseur mentality that leads to sacramental living.
Which actually makes it all about discovering the wonder and glory and gracious life giving the presence of God, not in the "things," but in the realisation that the "things" point to God.

Well, I'll drink to that! 

---

[1] Randy Mosher, Tasting Beer; An Insider’s Guide to the World’s Greatest Drink, (North Adams, MA: Storey Publishing, 2009), 21.

[2] Ibid., 65.

[3] Ibid., 2.

[4] Ibid., viii.

[5] Ibid., viii.

Friday Craft Beer Review: Lion Breweries’ Waikato Draught

Truth be told, this is the first time I’ve sampled Lion Breweries’ Waikato offering, despite it being one of New Zealand's oldest beers. 91 years old apparently!

According to beer historian Mr Wiki, Waikato Draught was originally brewed in Hamilton by the Innes Family Brewery, the first brewery in New Zealand owned by a woman. Lion Nathan acquired the brewery in 1961 with production continuing in Hamilton until 1987 before being moved to Auckland. Unfortunately for Hamilton, this shift to Auckland meant Hamilton officially became New Zealand’s "Most Uninspiring City.” A title held until the first class debut of Daniel Vettori for Northern Districts against England ten years later in 1997. His first wicket, that of Nasser Hussain (caught at first slip attempting to drive), is recognised by the local council of the time as breathing new life into the city and inspired their catch phrase “Hamilton; Where It’s Happening,” Good stuff Lucas! Shortly after they planted a garden and bought some hot air balloons and things have been on the up and up every since. But I digress. In 2005 Waikato Draught won gold in the draught category of the Brew NZ beer awards with its classic beer being described as having a “strong malty flavour with well-defined bitterness.” That’ll be something to look out for!

What else? Technically a draught beer is one poured via a handle and from a keg or cask, now-a-days though Waikato primarily comes in a can or a bottle. In fact, it is rare to find Waikato Draught on tap outside of the 7,067-person town of Huntly. Basically very view taverns are brave enough to invest in a 50 litre keg. It might take 10 - 15 years to work through that much Waikato Draught and not many publicans are willing to sign up to that kind of commitment. Nevertheless, if one is prepared to make the trip to one of Huntly’s local establishments you’ll be able to find Waikato Draught on tap as well as a better-than-average chance of a Thursday night schnitzel special. Just follow the sound of the Waikato chainsaws calling to each other (they don't text over there) and keep a look out for the Huntly Hurricane (aka Lance Hohaia). Draught continues to be used in the title only out of tradition. Other than that, as a malty/bitter beer we’d expect it to be in some way related to the Pale Ale family. Whether a long lost cousin to be welcome home or an ugly step sister, we’ll have to wait and see.    

Let’s see how this goes.

Price: $7.99 4x330mls. Waikato Draught is certainly priced competitively when one compares it to other craft beers we’ve reviewed. Interestingly enough, Waikato Draught gets cheaper per bottle when you buy in bulk. A box of 15 works out at $1.73 per bottle and a box of 24 at $1.66. In theory then, a 249 pack would work out at about .59c per bottle. They’re practically giving it away. Or, maybe my math is wrong.

Alcohol content: 4.0%

Colour: Deep amber and golden hues. Plenty of bubbles and a reasonable white frothy head.

Aroma: Faint notes of sweet toffee are discernable. There is also subtle sour note as well, kind of a mix between 24-hour charity relay sweat, apprentice builder’s body odour, and the sticky wooden floors of the Mount Rugby Club just before church used to start after a Saturday night 40^th birthday back in the day.

Palate: Even chilled the sweet malt flavours come through, hints of Pam's golden syrup. Other than that it is simply wet and watery. It is slightly fizzy but totally lacking any body. In terms of strong taste and bitterness; whoever did the write-up extolling the virtues of this draught beer has obviously never sampled a good stout or a quality IPA. I’m not convinced this beer even has any hops in it.

Finish: The initial swig of this beer is quite palatable compared to the finish. The finish is where it becomes pretty off-putting as it is hard to work out what the tangy aftertaste exactly is. Many myths surround what may or may not be the special ingredients used in this brewing process. Since 2011 the general consensus seems to be Beaver's Rugby World Cup winning socks and undies, the very ones worn as he nervously took the kick that became "The Kick." I’m not convinced though. This old misty is even more tangy than that. It’s almost as if someone has combined the muddy water of the Waikato river with select segments of yellow snow from Mount Ruapehu and a hint of Stihl’s HP 2 Stroke chainsaw oil, and then actually put it in the bottle! It's hard to digest.

On the Chart: Well in terms of complexity we’re sitting pretty low. Well let’s be honest, this bit of mooloo magic just isn’t that magical and will line up right at the bottom of the chart. It’s also not hoppy in the slightest. And while it is a touch malty, it's certainly not anything like a deep dark porter or stout. This is pretty middle of the road. A refreshing beer rather than a beer to be savoured. It’s looking pretty lonely on the chart.

Conclusion: Truthfully, Lion Breweries’ Waikato Draught is an easy drink. Easy like a glass of water is easy. There isn’t a lot to it. I’d say that’s why it is sold in 24 packs and maybe even one day in 249 packs for .59c a bottle. I think the idea with Waikato Draught is to come back for more. This isn't craft beer. Craft beer is different. Craft beer is to be savoured rather than skulled, and the flavours, like anything of substance, eventually fatigue the palate. Most craft beers are sold as a single drink, though you do get a few 4 packs and a handful of 6 packs. This particular Waikato Draught was one of 4 but I’m bamboozled as to what to do with the other three; I’m not touching them. Glad I didn't get a box of 24.

In all honesty, it’s not that Waikato Draught is that bad, it more that it just isn’t that good. Why waste time or money on a beer like this? When you want a coffee you go to local café for an espresso not to Gregg’s for an instant. It doesn't matter that Gregg calls it a "Special Blend" we know it isn't true. When you want steak you throw a scotch on the grill not a piece of marinated BBQ steak with those lines in it (where do those lines even come from anyway!?!). When you want a beer you pop a Tuatara or a Panhead or something from Garage Project. You stay away from Waikato Draught. At least I would. Quality over quantity I say. Less is more. This is an ugly step sister rather than a Cinderalla. Run!

Friday Craft Beer Review: Saint Bernardus' Abt 12

Today we’re reviewing an Abbey beer. Or is it a Trappist? What's the difference. 

Beer, it seems, has always been a Belgian tradition. The widespread beverage-centered Beaker Culture was present in Belgium from as early as 2800BCE. That’s a long time ago. Fast forward to the eighth and ninth century and monasteries dotted throughout the Belgian countryside give rise to one of Belgium’s great brewing traditions; abbey beers. Most monastic religious orders worked in various cottage industries to support themselves. Some made cheese, some farmed sheep, and others brewed beer. That's how they supported the ministry of the monastery. I can’t tell you how much I wish St Luke’s could start a microbrewery as a way of supporting the life and ministry of the church. Steeped in tradition I tell you! Steeped! Just looking for some financial backing. Anyone...?

Anyway, in the early days of monastic brewing, there was no such thing as “hopped” beer. The bitterness in beer was instead derived from “gruit,” a secret mix of herbs and spices disguised in grain. The right to sell and trade gruit was restricted to the religious orders and political houses of the day. Hops didn’t arrive in Belgium until the beginning of the 14^th Century and when they did, permission to uses hops was granted by the regional Bishop and a tax was levied. There it is again people, the craft beer industry is a church tradition! I’m telling you!  

Over the centuries a vast array of different style brews were experimented with. Belgian brewers were artisanal in their approach. Or in other words, the brewer as an artist was under no obligation to brew beer that conformed to any particular pattern or style. Over all though Belgium beer tends to focus more on malt that on hops with drinkers preferring more nuanced beers rather than the big flavors more often associated with hops. Herbs and spices are often added and the beer is normally quite sweet. Most notably though, Belgian beer is brewed with a very distinct kind of yeast, that gives all Belgian beer a unique and distinct flavour.

What about Abbey beers verses Trappist beers? Abbey and Trappist beers are the direct descendants of monastic breweries. Abbey beers now refer to "abbey style" beers brewed by commercial brewing companies. Trappist beers are those still brewed by monks on a monastic property. There are licensed officially as Trappist beers. There are eleven monasteries still brewing and officially recognised as a Trappist brewery. Six in Belgium (Orval, Chimay, Westvleteren, Rochefort, Westmalle and Achel), two in the Neatherlands (Koningshoeven and Maria Toevlucht’s), one in the United States (St Joseph’s Abbey), one in Italy (Tre Fontane Abbey), and one in Germany (Mariawald, though they don’t brew beer and rather license other products as Trappist). This doesn't mean Trappist beers are superior to Abbey beers, but they are often harder to get your hands on. 

Abbey/Trappist style beers have tended to included, a dubbel (a dark brown fruity and spicy style beer, 6% - 7.8% ABV), a tripel (a golden beer, spiced and malty with refreshing hops, 7.5% - 9.5% ABV), a quadrupel (that is even bigger and bolder than a dubbel or tripel, a big, strong and dark beer ABV 10% and above), a saison, a witbier, a sour brown beer, and also lambics. Way too much to go into now and we’ve already covered a lot. 

Tonight’s beer is St Bernardus Brewery’s Abbot 12; a quadrupel! In 1945 the Trappist Monastery St Sixtus decided to limit it's production of beer to that which was needed for the monastery, gate sales, and sales to a few local taverns. Instead of brewing commercially they granted a licence to brew to a local cheese factory and Brewery St Bernard was founded. The brew master from Westvleteren became a partner in the brewery and bought some of the recipes from Westvleteren Abbey. As a side note Westvleteren 12 is regarded by some as the finest beer in the world and it very hard to get your hands on. Now brewing as St Bernardus their offerings are referred to as Abbey beers rather than Trappist and we'll be sampling their Abt 12 (Abbot 12). Here is the blurb straight from their website...

The St.Bernardus Abt 12 is the pride of our stable, the nec plus ultra of our brewery. Abbey ale brewed in the classic 'Quadrupel' style of Belgium's best Abbey Ales. Dark with a full, ivory-colored head. It has a fruity aroma, full of complex flavours and excels because of its long bittersweet finish with a hoppy bite. Worldwide seen as one of the best beers in the world. It's a very balanced beer, with a full-bodied taste and a perfect equilibrium between malty, bitter and sweet. One of the original recipes from the days of license-brewing for the Trappist monks of Westvleteren.

Let's see if it measures up.

Price: $9.99 330mls (pretty expensive, but it has made the trip from Belgium). 

Alcohol content: 10%

Colour:  A deep and dark cloudy brown. Very slight head that fades quickly.

Aroma: Smells sweet and spicy. Cinnamon, brown sugar, nutmeg, raisins and dates.  

Palate: It’s fizzy, sweet and spicy. Not spicy like hot chillies, but rather a pleasant tingle of baking style spices in your tongue. At 10% ABV it feels almost warm even though I’m drinking it chilled. Plenty of sweet caramel malt flavours coming through.  

Finish: It’s in the finish that you get the distinct flavour of Belgian yeast coming through. It’s not as strong as in a beer like Moa’s St Joseph but it is still unmistakable. This is a bit toned back compared to other Belgian beers I've had and is really nice. When more pronounced I don’t enjoy it as much. There is a bitterness at the same time, hidden inside the raisin cookie maltiness, just a touch but it balances things nicely. It is very sweet. The more I drink the sweeter it gets, almost port like. 

 

On the Chart: This wonderful beer is certainly down towards the malty end of the chart rather than hoppy. There is some hoppy bitterness for sure but it is subtle. In terms of complexity, there is plenty going on here. Yum, yum, yum. It’ll be up the scale in terms of complexity.

   

Conclusion: St Bernardus promote this beer as full bodied in terms of flavour and “a perfect equilibrium between malty, bitter and sweet.” I don’t think this is false advertising. This is pretty delicious. The Belgian yeast won’t be to everybody’s liking but if you find this part of the beer pleasant to your palate, you’ll find the rest of it delicious. It’s a big beer. No doubt about that. But it is also a beer with plenty of nuance and finesse. Well worth shelling out the $10 for it one time. I'll get another one some time for sure!

Reviews pending:

Moa's Festive IPA Belgium Edition.
Lion Breweries' Waikato Draft

Friday Craft Beer Review: Eagle Brewing’s RED IPA

In craft beer world the IPA is pretty much the most manipulated style of beer on offer at the moment, even more so than stouts. While most brewing associations officially recognise three varieties, an English style IPA (hoppy but with malts coming through), an American style IPA (tends to really focus on the hops and only a touch of malt), and an Imperial or Double style IPA (very hoppy and very high ABV); there are all sorts of other varieties on offer.

You have Belgium style IPAs brewed with Belgium yeast, white IPAs which tended to be witbiers brewed in an IPA style (witbier esters plus notable hops and bitterness), Indian Session Ales brewed at a lower ABV so you can share a couple of pints rather than having to stop after only one, so in other words - all the IBUs of an IPA without the ABV, these are normally about 3.something %. You also have Wild IPAs brewed with multiple fermentation processes that also include wild yeast. There are spiced and herbed IPAs, flavoured IPAs e.g. coffee, and also Black IPAs. More technically these black IPAs should be referred to as American-style black ales (essentially though they are IPAs brewed with specialty dark roast malts).  And then you also have Red IPAs, one of which we are going to sample today.

Red IPAs are essentially a variant of a traditional American red ale, which is a beer brewed with darker style malts in order to create a ruby red coloured brew that is toffee like, sweet and malty. To turn it into a Red IPA though, this traditional ale is “hopped” up a few notches to bring additional notes of fruity bitterness and is also brewed at a higher than usual ABV. The result essentially being a combination of sweet butterscotch malts and the herbaceous bitterness of tropical / grapefruit / herb like hops (depends on the variety used). None of which sounds like a bad idea to me. Red IPAs are a delicious IPA variant. 

I’ve got Eagle Brewing’s RED IPA. Eagle are a Christchurch based brewery that has been brewing since 2010. There website doesn’t really tell you anything in terms of their story, their history or their philosophy of brewing but you can see they have a number of established ales (RED IPA, South Island Pale Ale, Coalface Stout, an ESB [Extra Style Bitter, an English style pale ale], Big American Yank IPA, and a Pilsner). As well, you can see they have offered a number of experimental beers over the years, Golden Sour (a grapefruit sour beer), Mr White IPA, a May the 4^th Padawan Pale Ale, a Jawa Juice Intergalactic Brown Ale, and a Light Saber Pilsner. So they must be into Star Wars too.

Let’s pop this RED IPA and see if it is as good as it is promised to be on the label: “The finest new world malts and hops contribute all they have to this shining example of the style. Toffee and caramel together with fruity hop aromas…” etc etc.

Price: $9.99 500mls

Alcohol content: 5.8%

Colour: Browny / ruby red colour with a slight head. Nice and red when you hold it up to the light. A little cloudy.

Aroma: Smells both sweet and hoppy. Promising.

Palate: Bitter hops at first, grapefruit and lawn clippings. Very much like an IPA, even a double IPA. 

Finish: The toffee like malts come through lovely and strong in the finish. Caramel, marmite, malt biscuits for sure. In saying that though, you can't escape the hoppy bitterness. 

On the Chart: This is a beautifully balanced beer. Quite a bit more hoppy than malty as expected with an IPA, but the ruby red malts have their moments. It's not a sweet beer at all though. So we're well left of centre and up a bit in terms of complexity.

Conclusion: I really enjoyed this. I prefer a bitter beer to a sweet beer, and this is certainly bitter. At the same time though the sweet toffee profiles of the malt come through as well. It's really nice. Well done Eagle Brewing on your lovely RED IPA. Highly recommended! 

Friday Craft Beer Review: Good George's Black (and also White) Rocky Road Stout

Coincidently we’ve another Good George offering to review this Friday. Two actually. I’ve just come back from some time overseas and while in the States managed to try some delicious beers. Stone’s “Enjoy-By” IPA, Russian River’s “Pliny the Elder” double IPA, and the very delicious “Viva La Beaver” by Belching Beaver, a peanut butter and Mexican chocolate milk stout, were all real stand outs. With that in mind, when I saw Good George’s recently released Rocky Road Black Stout and Rocky Road White Stout, I couldn’t resist. Maybe we’ve something that could compete with “Viva La Beaver.” Tonight we’ll review both the black stout and the white stout side by side.  

Before we get started though, let’s consider the use of the term “stout.” Both of these beers highlight the sense in which “anything goes” in craft beer land. That is, I’m not really sure that “stout” is the right label for these beers. Originally stout was the term used for a particularly strong beer, 7% ABV and above. “Golly-gee, that’s a very stout beer old chap!” Over time though it came to be primarily associated with the dark malty beer known as porter and favoured by London porters. Stout was the name reserved for the strongest of the porter beers and was a dark malty beer. Imperial stout was the term reserved for the strongest of the stouts, with these strong stouts originally exported to the Russian court and normally over 10% ABV.

With this in mind the term stout isn’t really appropriate for either of these beers. They are both only 5% ABV and thus the white stout isn’t strong enough to claim the name stout in the original sense and the black stout isn’t strong enough to claim the name in the more traditional sense of a strong porter. Here we probably need to appreciate that stout is now often associated with malt/coffee/chocolate flavours, with brewers referring to a beer as a “stout” if it has these flavour profiles. This has opened the door for brewers to brew both white and also golden “stouts.” It is a pretty liberal use of the term, for sure, but I guess it highlights how language changes over time. Personally though, I think stout should be reserved for black beers that are 7% ABV and above. If brewers don’t want to use the term “porter” for black beers under 7% because of marketing, surely the terms “black ale” or “dark ale” would suffice.

Enough mucking around though, let’s try both of Good George's Rocky Road Stouts, the black and the white. We’ll compare them side by side. Oh, I should also note that they are brewed in conjunction with the Hamilton based chocolate company Donovans. So a local collaboration going on here. Nice. 

Price: $5.25 330mls (both the black and the white stout)

Alcohol content: 5% (both the black and the white stout)

Colour:
Black: Deep black even when you hold it up to the light. Slight macchiato head but faded quickly. Very little bubbles.
White: Golden and slightly cloudy. Not cloudy like a wheat beer though. No head or bubbles really.

Aroma:
Black: Strong raspberry smell coming through. Maybe a hint of chocolate but mainly raspberry. A touch of malt as well.  
White: Again a very strong raspberry smell. Basically the same as the black but perhaps this white is a little more hoppy. I'm not sure if the black beer is making me think malt and the white making me think hops. Essentially a very similar smell though.

Palate:
Black: Slightly hoppy but mainly sour. Doesn’t really taste like rocky road or raspberry. Not a lot of body and watery through the middle. Kind of the opposite of a stout. Tastes like a raspberry sour. 
White: Not as sour as the black, but still just tastes like a sour mix ferment. You wouldn't pick rocky road in a million years. Not anything like a stout either. No chocolate and if there is coffee it’s more like green beans than a dark malt roast.   

Finish:
Black: The sour notes give way to a quite pleasant malt biscuit finish. Again, without wanting to labour the point, nothing "stout" like in this beer.
White: Here the sour notes give way to a hoppy finish. It’s not that impressive. There are at least some coffee notes that come through here. 

On the Chart:
Black: It’s more malty than hoppy for sure. And there is a degree of complexity. It’s not the complexity of chocolate, coffee and raspberry though. The raspberry comes though like a sour fruit beer and then there is some malt.
White: Again more malty than hoppy. The hops are there but the sour notes of the raspberry stand out more. Slightly complex but in a confused way more than anything.

Conclusion:

Black & White: Lot’s of promise in these two cans of beer but at the end of the day they delivered little. Neither are really that nice at all to be honest. They are unusual at best, but proably more accurately; unpleasant and confused. Not enjoyable at all. Belching Beaver’s Viva La Beaver Peanut Butter and Mexican Chocolate Milk Stout is the beer I’d line these two up against in terms of potential wonder and complexity, but wow did they fall short. Can’t say I would recommend these but at the end of the day I preferred the black over the white if you are going to grab a can.

  

Friday Craft Beer Review: Ballast Point’s Watermelon Dorado Double IPA

Yes folks, you read the title correctly. A Watermelon Dorado Double IPA!!!

I’m in America at the moment and it seems only fitting to review an American offering. When I was here last year I had a couple of different craft beers, and they were all pretty good. The one that stood out though was Ballast Point’s Sculpin IPA. Truly delicious. I was pleasantly surprised to discover Ballast Point for sale in New Zealand not long after coming home. It’s pretty expensive in New Zealand due to shipping and so forth, but they’ve some really interesting beers. Their Sculpin IPA is fantastic, as is their Habanero Sculpin which adds spicy habanero peppers to the mix. One of the more crazy, but superbly done, beers I’ve ever had is their Indra Kunindra Stout. Get this, a madras curry stout with cumin, cayenne, coconut and kaffir lime leaf. Probably something you’d only ever need to have once in your life, but you need to have one. Just add white bread or white rice for a delicious dinner. And they have plenty of beers that I haven’t tried yet, Pineapple Sculpin, Mango Sculpin, Grapefruit Sculpin, an Imperial Stout with Coffee and Peppermint. It’s all happening.

You should check out their website for a couple of reasons. Firstly to see the incredible range of beers they have, but also to see the branding. I’m a sucker for good branding and love the nautical themes they’ve branded all of their beers around.  

Ballast Point Brewing started as a home brew store in 1992. Originally a couple of college kids, Jack White and Peter A’Hearn, tried their hand at home brewing. They struggled to get their hands on the variety of malts and hops and gear they needed to really experiment as brewers though. So, in light of this they opened a home brew store and kind of set themselves up as the home brewers hangout of San Diego. San Diego’s craft brew scene is apparently pretty impressive now and it seems in large part because of this store set up by these college kids. A’Hearn studied for a Master Brewers Certificate at the University of CA and then they started brewing as Ballast Point Brewery in 1996 from the back of the home brew store. Long story short, it went from strength to strength. Ballast Point went from being the first micro-distillery in San Diego this side of the prohibition to being America’s 17^th largest brewery. In 2015 they sold Ballast Point to Constellation Brands for $1 billion USD.

Enough of that though. I’ve a Watermelon Dorado Double IPA to open. Being a double IPA or an imperial IPA (same thing) this beer should be loaded with hoppy bitterness. It’s rated as 90 IBUs. That’s International Bittering Units if you can remember back to my first review. Tuatara’s Double Trouble, a double IPA, is 167. Totally of the charts bitter. Tuatara’s Indian Pale Ale is a 40. So this will obviously be a pretty hoppy beer. In theory there should be some malty sweetness coming through as well but we’ll have to wait and see. I’ve no idea what the watermelon effect will be.

Price: $7.99 355mls (NZD)

Alcohol content: 10%

Colour: Lovely golden colour. Slightly pale and slightly pinky. Not much head. Plenty of bubbles.

Aroma: Floral notes from the hops and slightly sweet. I’m trying to smell watermelon but more getting grass clippings. It is 90 IBUs after all!

Palate: Yum. Yum. Yum. It is very bitter and this hits you straight away. There is a sweetness to it as well though. Brown sugar rather than tropical fruit, but very subtle.

Finish: The finish is where the watermelon comes through. And it’s done really well. The bitterness sticks to the roof of your mouth while the watermelon flavours swirl around your tongue and bubble up your nose. The watermelon complements the bitterness so well. It’s a big beer. 10%. Loaded with hops. Plenty of bite. But at the same time, it’s like it is also loaded with summer memories when with beautiful watermelon notes.  

On the Chart: On the chart this is way down the hoppy side of things. Not quite as hoppy as Tuatara’s Double Trouble but they’re neighbours. There is more complexity with this beer though. The Dorado has hints of malt tucked into it, but also the watermelon is a really cool addition. Way to the left then and up a few notches in complexity.

Conclusion: Over all this is delightful. You should try one. Very hoppy, but there is more going on than just bitterness in this beer. In Tasting Beer, Randy Mosher points out the reality is that anything with taste ends up fatiguing the palate, and I think he’s bang on the money. This is one of the things I love about craft beer. It’s complex, there are all sorts of flavours heading in all sorts of directions all at once. Delightful, but it also means that one or two beers is perfect. The taste helps with moderation. Less is more. I think this is one of those beers. It’s a double IPA. One is enough. I look forward to having another one day, but not today.