After being oddly obsessed with it since my childhood—I mean have you seen ‘Bugsy’?  Yowza, that on-screen romance between Warren Beatty and Annette Bening was some hot shit—I finally made it out to the bizarre mirage in the desert.

I made this video to document my time there.  (Lo and behold, a touch of my Colorado home sent a tremor of comfort through my troubled soul).  I give you my latest episode:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtN2n94gcxU

The Score (pic by Joe Flaherty)

This morning I awoke in Seattle to a foggy morning filled with expectations.  Mount Rainier was on our minds as my brother and I prepared for our camping excursion to get lost in her charms.

After a requisite trip to the REI castle here, we hit up Bottleworks, the local craft beer store where we unleashed the geek demons.  Led through the store by a trusty employee who embraced us like young lambs looking to get lost in West Coast craft beer, we spent nearly an hour scouring the fridges.

What we walked out with could, frankly, keep a platoon of soldiers content for many a night under the stars.  Check this list out and prepare to drool, craft beer lovers.  (That or you can meet us at the base of Mt Rainier; we’ll be the ones sitting by the fire and singing Irish drinking songs…)

The Great West Coast Beer Stash

• Firestone Walker, Union Jack IPA, CA (7.5%) – 650 ml
• Ninkasi, Maiden the Shade, OR (6.8%) – 650 ml
• Roslyn, Roslyn Beer (Munich Dunkel), WA (?) – 650 ml
• Green Flash, Imperial IPA, CA (9.4%) – 650 ml
• Hopworks, IPA, OR (6.6%) – 650 ml
• Russian River, Damnation Golden Ale, CA (7.75%) – 375 ml
• Brasserie Dupont, Foret Organic Saison, Belgium (7.5%) – 750 ml
• Hale’s Ales, Kolsch, WA (4.5%) – 12 oz
• Dick’s, Dick’s Danger Ale, WA (5.2%) – 12 oz
• Dick’s, Silk Lady Belgian Style Golden Ale, WA (4.4 %) – 12 oz
• Oskar Blues, Gubna Imperial IPA, CO (10%) – 12 oz
• Avery, White Rascal White Ale, CO (5.6%) – 12 oz
• Victory, Prima Pils, PA (5.3%) – 650 ml
• Dogfish Head, Aprihop IPA, DE (7%) – 12 oz
• Dogfish Head, Punkin Ale, DE (7%) – 12 oz
• Mad River, Jamaica Red Ale, CA (6.5%) – 12 oz
• Sierra Nevada, Tumbler Autumn Brown Ale, CA (5.5%) – 12 oz
• New Belgium, Hoptober Golden Ale, CO (6%) – 12 oz
• Hanssens Artisanaal, Oude Gueuze, Belgium (6%) – 375 ml

——–

(pic by Joe Flaherty)

(pic by Joe Flaherty)

There are many professions that kids consider downright uncool.  “What’s your dad do?  Oh, he’s a middle manager for a bank?  Lame.  I’m gonna be an astronaut”.  “Yours is a teacher?  Yuck!  I’m gonna be a millionaire in Dubai” (yes, times have changed).

But when I was a kid and heard that my best friend’s dad was a brewer at Anheuser-Busch, I thought it was pretty damn cool.  I’d been on their brewery tour and seen the shiny equipment, the fancy conveyer belts and the endless bottles whizzing by at light-speed.  Plus, did he get to ride the Clydesdales?!

Well, I never really knew exactly what he did, and so after a recent trip of his to NYC where I grilled him about my home brewing techniques, I thought it was time to ask him.

Doug Hamilton saw the rise of the microbrew industry from the inside of a macrobrewery.  In the early 1970’s, breweries like Sierra Nevada and New Belgium hadn’t yet come on the scene and the industry was dominated by five national brewers:  Anheuser Busch, Schlitz, Pabst, Miller and Falstaff.  Much consolidation was happening, and regional brewers began to fall by the wayside, which created a void in the local brewery scene.

And so it was that a handful of savvy entrepreneurs, after traveling through Europe and tasting the specialty beers they had to offer, entered the scene and a new segment of the industry was born: craft brewing done by “microbreweries” (a brewery with an annual production of less than 2 million barrels).

But through it all, and even after being approached to work for multiple microbreweries, Doug Hamilton chose to stay in Fort Collins, Colorado and work for the mega-brewer he had come to love: Anheuser-Busch.

Now, granted, Budweiser is not my first choice for a great beer (or even my top 50).  In fact, their world is one I know very little about.  But after my interviews, I’ve come to have new respect for what they do.

Upon graduating from UC Davis in 1973 with a Master’s Degree in Food Science/Brewing Science, Doug went to work for Great Western Malting Company.  In 1987, he moved to Fort Collins and accepted a position at the new Anheuser-Busch plant where he remained for the next 19 years, eventually retiring as Area Manager.

When and how did you get your start in brewing?

MY DAD WORKED AT BLITZ-WEINHARD BREWERY FOR 40 YEARS. I GREW UP WITH IT. SOME OF MY FONDEST MEMORIES AS A LITTLE BOY WERE GOING THROUGH THE BREWERY WITH MY DAD ON WEEKENDS. THE SMELLS OF THE HOP ROOMS, THE FERMENTING BEERS (THEY STILL HAD A FEW OPEN FERMENTORS BACK IN THE EARLY FIFTIES), THE COLDNESS OF THE FILTER CELLARS.

What is the typical schedule of a brewer?

DEPENDS ON THE LEVEL: AT ENTRY LEVEL, IT WAS ROTATING SHIFTS EVERY MONTH (DAY, AFTERNOONS, AND MIDNIGHTS).  AT HIGHER LEVELS IT WAS WORKING DAYS AND SOME WEEKENDS. ALWAYS, YOU HAD TO BE READY TO TAKE CALLS AT ANY HOUR OF THE DAY OR NIGHT, AND BE PREPARED TO COME INTO THE BREWERY, IF NEED BE.

Scariest thing about brewing?

BOIL-OUTS. WE USED TO BOIL THE WORT IN THE BREWKETTLE WITH THE ENTRY HATCH OPEN. THIS ALLOWED FOR A GOOD DRAFT AND ENABLED EASY ACCESS TO ADD THE HOPS.

OCCASIONALLY, THE WORT WOULD SUPER-HEAT AND WOULD SEND A THREE-FOOT DIAMETER STREAM OF BOILING WORT IN A FIFTEEN-FOOT LONG ARC ACROSS THE BREWHOUSE AND COVER THE FLOOR IN BOILING SUGARY SOLUTION THAT WOULD SEVERELY SCALD ANYONE UNFORTUNATE ENOUGH TO BE IN THE WAY.

I’VE SEEN BOIL OUTS THAT PUT 120 BBLS (ALMOST 4000 GALS.) ON THE FLOOR IN LESS THAN 30 SECONDS. TRULY SCARY!!

What is your pick for the most underappreciated beer?

AMERICAN LAGERS ARE OFTEN LOOKED DOWN UPON BECAUSE THEY ARE SAID TO LACK CHARACTER. YET, IN MY OPINION, THESE CLEAN, FRESH TASTING BEERS ARE SOME OF THE MOST DIFFICULT TO MAKE, SIMPLY BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING TO MASK ANY OFF FLAVORS OR DEFECTS.

When was the first time you recall hearing about “microbrews”?

IN THE LATE 70′S GREAT WESTERN MALTING STARTED SUPPLYING MALT TO HOME BREWING CLUBS IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. IN THE MID 80′S THEY STARTED SUPPLYING BREWERS LIKE ANCHOR STEAM AND SIERRA NEVADA.

What was the general view of them from the inside of the macrobrewery?

SOME PEOPLE THOUGHT OF THEM AS INTERLOPERS AND A POTENTIAL THREAT. I THOUGHT OF THEM AS A WELCOME ADDITION TO THE INDUSTRY. HOWEVER, IT IS IMPORTANT TO NOTE THAT QUALITY VARIED FROM EXCELLENT BREWS TO UNDRINKABLE. THOSE THAT COULD MAKE A GOOD BEER, CONSISTENTLY, I APPLAUD. THOSE WHO CAN’T SHOULD LOOK FOR ANOTHER LINE OF WORK. MANY PEOLE IN A-B THOUGHT THE SAME WAY.

THE PROGRESSION OF MICROS FROM THE “BEGINNINGS” IN THE 80′S BEGAN SLOWLY AND THEN PICKED UP SPEED AND WAS ALMOST EXPONENTIAL BY THE MID 1990′S. AT THAT POINT EVERYBODY AND HIS BROTHER THOUGHT THEY COULD MAKE BEER AND I RECALL TASTING SOME BEERS THAT HAD SUCH STRONG OFF-FLAVORS AS TO BE UNDRINKABLE.

mmm...delicious midpalate

THERE WERE THOSE WHO THOUGHT THAT IF A LITTLE SPECIALTY MALT WAS GOOD A LOT WAS BETTER. I RECALL TASTING A PEATED MALT SCOTTISH ALE THAT HAD THE LOOK OF USED MOTOR OIL AND THE FLAVOR OF “LIQUID SMOKE” THAT YOU WOULD USE AT YOUR BBQ.

AS WITH MANY “CRAZES” THE BAD BREWERS AND LOUSY BEERS CAME AND WENT AND THOSE WHO PAID ATTENTION TO THEIR PRODUCTS AND PRODUCTION CAME THROUGH IT WELL. SOME EXAMPLES, BUT CERTAINLY NOT ALL I COULD MENTION:

Ken Grossman of Sierra Nevada

SIERRA NEVADA WAS ONE OF THE EARLY ENTRIES. THEY STARTED WITH A CLEAR PLAN, GOOD TRAINING AND ATTENTION TO DETAIL.

Fritz Maytag of Anchor Steam

ANCHOR STEAM IS ANOTHER STORY. THAT BREWERY HAS BEEN AROUND THE SAN FRANCISCO AREA FOR WELL OVER A CENTURY. IT SURVIVED PROHIBITION, BUT BY THE 1960′S IT WAS IN DECLINE. FRITZ MAYTAG, OF THE MAYTAG APPLIANCE FAMILY, BOUGHT THE BREWERY AND MOVED THE OPERATIONS TO THE SOUTH END OF THE CITY. HE PUT HIS HEART AND SOUL INTO IT AND MADE IT INTO A HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL HIGH QUALITY BREWERY.

Doug Odell

AS YOU KNOW, FORT COLLINS HAS ODELL AND NEW BELGIUM, TO BRAG OF. IN THEIR OWN WAYS THEY HAVE DONE EXTREMELY WELL.

A-B COULD MAKE MICRO PRODUCTS IN THE MAJOR BREWERIES, BUT THE VOLUME IS NOT THERE TO SUPPORT THESE PRODUCTS IN THE SCALE THAT WOULD BE PROFITABLE.

Was there at the time, and is there today, a divide between the two worlds?

THE REAL DIVIDE BETWEEN THE MICROS AND MAJORS IS THE TARGET CONSUMER. MAJOR BREWERS TARGET PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HAVE A BEER TO QUENCH THEIR THRIST AFTER WORKING IN THE BACK YARD OR TO DRINK A FEW WITH SNACKS WHILE WATCHING A SPORTING EVENT.

MICROS ARE SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT. THEY TEND TO GO WITH MEALS OR AFTER MEALS AND, USUALLY, ONE OR TWO AT A TIME.

THIS IS NOT ALWAYS TRUE, BUT THE TENDENCY IS THERE. THUS THERE IS PLACE FOR BOTH.

“My top 5 favorite beers are…”

• I STILL LIKE BUDWEISER
• SIERRA NEVADA PALE ALE
• FULL SAIL LTD #3 (SEASONAL)
• REDHOOK ESB
• ODELL ISOLATION ALE (SEASONAL)
• ODELL ALSO MAKES A DRAUGHT-ONLY SEASONAL BEER CALLED “DOUGWEISER”. (NAMED AFTER DOUG ODELL, THE OWNER) QUITE GOOD.

Thanks, Doug, for reminding me of the fact that whether you go micro or macro, we’re all beer lovers.  And though I may not be pouring a Bud Light into my glass any time soon, I respect those who do.  Good brewers share the same goals: quality, consistency and respect for craft.

Now how about letting me borrow one of the Clydesdales?  I’ve got a hot date to take out on the town tonight.

Seattle rules.  For an NYC boy like me to get to see more than a sliver of the sky at a time, it’s a pleasure, but to see the entire sky at once was beyond therapeutic.  And the sheer amount of art?  Whoa.  I thought the East Village was artsy, but its got nothing on Seattle, where every direction you look, art awaits.  A bus stop?  No, to Seattle, it’s a place to put poetry and paintings on four walls where a bus just happens to pick people up.  The neighborhoods are dripping with character, and the people are friendly and generous, with a pre-requisite to live there being at least one appendage entirely covered in tattoos.  An arm?  Nope, a canvas for a slew of tats.

Though Washington puts out some incredible wines, this trip was all about beer. A recent inductee to the dark arts of homebrewing, my brother Joe and I will riff for hours on what our favorite microbreweries are doing (I guess this is what growing up in Fort Collins, Colorado does to you; they should just give you an Odell’s pint glass when you’re born at Poudre Valley Hospital because you will no doubt be spoiled by loads of amazing beer by the time you reach high school graduation. The drinking age in Colorado is 16, right?)

Based on my recent posting of the Zymurgy Top 50 Beers chosen by homebrewers, we were on a mission to taste the beers not available to us in our fair Gotham (seriously Odells and New Belgium, get your asses out here!). First on our list was the chart-topper, Pliny the Elder, which was so damn tasty, we were reduced to babies screaming for their bottles, chanting: “Pliny! Pliny! Pliny!” And in a city where a beautiful thing exists called the Schooner (6 oz glass), we sampled a plethora of beers and felt like kids in a candy shop.  Well, intoxicated kids in a candy shop.

Here’s a quick round up of a few of the brews we tasted:

Imperial IPA, Hop Czar, Bridgeport Big Brews, Portland, Oregon, 8.5% abv

A caramel brown appearance with nice head retention. It started off promising, with an aroma of apricots rolled in hop resin with a whiff of bright citrus, but boy we were in store for a demon. Now I like my hops, but my note on this one was: “layers of aggressive hops that whipped the fuck out of my mouth, leaving it abused and covered in a filmy, resinous afterglow.” Far from balanced, but impressive due to its sheer ridiculousness, it had a pine needle finish. If it stopped ¾ of the way through the journey through my mouth, it’d be perfect, but instead it was an onslaught and I would be hard-pressed to finish twelve ounces of it.

Double IPA, Pliny the Elder, Russian River Brewing, Santa Rosa, California, 8% abv

Copper caramel color, with notes of blood oranges drizzled with pine resin on the nose. An intoxicating aroma that is both bright and fresh. Full-flavored hops unfold at once, leaving your tongue stimulated from front to back. Supported by malts that taste as if they were dipped in caramel, and with a hint of lime juice. The flavors stay lifted and forward in the mouth. Though super hoppy, it finishes clean and leaves you longing for another sip. I was reduced to a baby wanting another sip from the bottle. Delicious, complex and very drinkable.

Imperial Porter, Black Butte XXI, Deschutes Brewery, Bend, Oregon, 11% abv

Brewed as a limited release, the Black Butte XXI is a much sought-after release, and we were stoked to find it. It’s a porter brewed with local chocolate and coffee, with 20% of it aged in bourbon barrels. Dark chocolate and near black in appearance, it had a milk chocolate colored head that had minimal foam retention. An aroma of espresso grinds, dark chocolate and a hint of smoked chipotle pepper. Complex flavors that hit you en masse, but then quickly sort themselves out elegantly. Each flavor is clear and distinctive and balances beautifully, finishing clean. Afterwards, we noted the bottle said: “Best after October 2010”, so we rushed back to grab another bottle, which we’ll sit on, till next year. A powerhouse.

IPA, Red Chair, Deschutes Brewery, Bend, Oregon, 6.4% abv

With a creative label portraying an abandoned ski resort chair-lift that had been fashioned into a porch chair for a cabin, I was instantly intrigued. Copper caramel in color, the Red Chair exhibits a citrusy hop freshness. With flavors that fill the mid-palate, the hop character is firmly rooted and balanced over a nice malty platform. Notes of caramel dipped tangerines and graham crackers lead to a nice long finish. Refreshing and super drinkable.

What a great trip it was. Now if I can just figure out what tattoos to cover my right arm with, I’ll be all set…

Take your filthy hands off my beer can!

Within the wine, beer and spirits world, passions run deep.  And so do the divisions.  Whether it is beer vs. wine, red vs. white, or vodka vs. bourbon, the warring camps of devotees are steadfast and thirsty for the other’s blood.  Whether it is double- vs. triple-distilled, screw cap vs. cork, or old world vs. new world, you’re going to get some pretty set opinions.  “A screw cap on my wine?  I ought a bust you in the lip and drown you in a vat of Yellow Tail Shiraz!”  Well, one of the most famous is the can vs bottle division, but the lines are being redrawn.  Change in the beer world is coming…. you afraid of the can?  Well, my friend, it may be time to look again.

So often the choices we make in what we drink tell us a lot about the person.  Like wearing an Armani suit, strutting around with a bottle of Sam Adams Utopia is an indicator of class, style and attitude.  I remember when just the sight of my bottles of microbrew was called out as being “fancy”, and I was regularly taunted by can-wielding upperclassmen.  And of course in this case, “fancy” meant arrogant, or high-falutant, like I was some sort of beer dandy or something.  Well, looks who laughing now, you Schlitz-drinkin d-bags…and no, you can’t have a bottle of my homebrew.  And now, the door has opened even further and we’re seeing the unthinkable:  microbrews in cans.  What the f?  A can?!  “But only swill comes out of a can”.  “Only those that care nothing about their beer would disgrace it with such a filthy vessel”, the naysayers rally.  And you’d be surprised just who is saying such things….

A few years ago, Jim Koch of Boston Beer Company (Samuel Adams) shocked the beer world with his blatant disregard of the can. In 2005, he released what he called the “Beer Drinkers Bill of Rights” to ensure better beer for one and all, and stated, “”Beer shall be offered in bottles, not cans, so that no brew is jeopardized with the taste of metal.”  Uproar ensued in the microbrew community, especially at my beloved Oskar Blues Brewery in Lyons, Colorado where they have taken can technology to new heights and are the pioneers in leading the movement away from the beloved bottle.

The evolution of the can is a fascinating one.  As recently as the 1930′s, tin cans could not hold beer without exploding.  And then came the advent of the liner.  Initially made of vinyl (and fancy polymers today), they sealed the can, and prevented all liquid contact with the metal.  Over the years, the technology has improved ten-fold and the fear of tainting our precious bevies with metal has become irrational.  In fact, its seeming more and more like the can is the perfect vessel for beer.

I was fortunate to meet Dale Katechis, the founder of Oskar Blues brewery a few years ago at Brewtopia.  There in the midst of all these breweries and their countless bottles was a table filled with cans.  Huh?  It seemed so strange.  Yet for Dale, it was a subtle war cry; a shot across the stern of the micro beer community.  Dale’s Pale Ale was not just a great beer, but also a new philosophy: the Can is King.  Backed by the belief in “less air, less light”, Dale was upbeat, passionate and grounded in his renegade ways.  And the beer? Unbelievable.  Featuring caramel toffee notes highlighted by fresh hops and an intoxicatingly smooth balance, it is delicious, and was deemed the Top Colorado Brewed Beer by the Rocky Mtn News in November, as well as the NY Times pick as the Best Pale Ale in America in 2005.

So fast-forward a few years, and cans are now popping up everywhere in the craft beer world.  Breweries like Butternuts in upstate New York, New Belgium in Ft Collins, Colorado, and most recently Sly Fox from Pennsylvania, to name a few, have begun canning.   They’re on the band wagon, and are espousing the advantages of the can:  better protection from light and air, easier storage and transport, as well as a quicker cooling time for your tailgate fiestas…So what does that mean for us, the beer drinkers?

Well, frankly, better beer.  Be it canned or bottled, brewers are testing and reinventing the ways we package our prized beverages.  Concerned with the freshness of their beer, every detail is being scrutinized  (and argued over).  But honestly, bottles aren’t going away.  The only thing that’s really changing?  You’re going to find some damn tasty microbrews in cans.  So embrace them, my friends.  Embrace them without shame.  The can will serve you well.

Founded:  1991

Production:  approx 437,000 barrels

(website)

The place that started it all.  My own beer revolution.  ”Fat Tire” was her name.  And she was delicious and demanding; pay attention to me!, she said.  And I did.  I took note.  For the first time ever in my, albeit young and naive, life, I stopped and payed attention.  Really asked  myself, what am I tasting?  And that’s when I GOT it.  I felt connected to the Germans and their intricate beer steins my father collected in the basement; I thought of the Englishmen with waxed mustaches and elegant manners sipping the Bitter.  I did not know that what I was tasting was an introduction to Belgium; a country and a style of beer that takes you by the horns and casts you into a world of depth of flavor beyond what you ever thought possible (Lambic?  What the f?).  But this beer I grew up with, this beer with the beautiful label of the bike leaned on a tree while you eat your picnic basket in a Belgium wheat field, this beer started my journey and cemented a foundation of beer experiences to come.  ”You never forget your first”, I believe the saying goes…

In 1989, at the age of 32, Jeff Lebesch was riding his fat-tired bike through Europe’s famous brewing towns and was astounded by the beer he was encountering.  Riding on one’s bike always brings up the renegade feeling for me; I used to race road bikes and I recall often feeling like a cowboy alone on his horse on the prairie or zipping up and down the foothills for hours at a time.  A one-man survival machine, with all necessary tools to allow yourself to trust being so far from civilization that your mind quiets and your thoughts tune into focus.  But back to Jeff…He returned with new familiarity with different ingredients and went straight for Belgium.  Brewing in his basement, he crafted two beers that would launch New Belgium:  a brown Dubblel with rich, toffee flavors he named Abbey and Fat Tire, his American Amber beer with a biscuity, toasted maltiness backed with a balancing freshness of hops that exhibits a broad range of light, fruity notes.  Today, they have an ever-expanding portfolio of brews that range the gamet in style.

But thats not even remotely the end of the story.  Without the contributions of his wife, Kim Jordan (now a renowned CEO), all that existed was some great beer.  Nothing else.  Together, they built a brewery based on founding principles they wrote together while on a hike through Rocky Mountain National Park with a jug of a home brew and a pen and a pad of paper.  Emphasizing eco-friendly practices and employee ownership, they’ve gained a devoted workforce that has very little turnover because they’re happy.  They ride on frickin bikes, for gods sake!  Its like something out of Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, this bizarre crew of beer craftsmen zipping on bikes from building to building.  Not only that, but they’ve built a massive, two-wheeled following with their annual event Tour de Fat.  A professional bike racing tour/traveling circus that moves from town to town, with each stop culminating in a mass ride of costumed bike fiends from every ilk and sector blowing it all out in celebration of the wheel.

Before 2006, New Belgium was only in 16 states, but has since been growing its distribution tentacles like an aging octupus.  Oh how I’ve waited each passing year for her delicious tentacle to reach us fair city dwellers in Gotham City.  Oh how I miss thee, my fair sweet…somebody smuggle me a friggin case.  Please.