Boston Beer Bloggers Conference: Part 1

Click here to read about last year’s Beer Bloggers Conference

Where do you geek-out about beer?  Moments where I can talk passionately about the libation that so intrigues me are a rarity.  Certainly, my friends and family are all beer-lovers and they’re definitely more knowledgeable than the  average Bud-swiller but, even so, I sometimes see their eyes glaze over when I start talking about IBUs, beer history, and current craft trends.  Bless their hearts, they humor me, but I know I get too nerdy from time to time. 

What about beer festivals?  Those are always crammed full of beer geeks, right?  Well, sorta; for every true beer fan in attendance there’s five attendees that are there just to get completely schnockered.  The rowdies (and the general size of the crowd) make a real conversation about beer near impossible.

Pale Ale at Kauffman Stadium

Homebrew clubs, perhaps?  It’s just my hang-up, I guess, but I don’t feel comfortable interjecting myself into an already-established group; I’d feel like the odd man out—the newbie that doesn’t know anybody.  I’d feel more at ease in an environment where nobody knows anybody and we’re all on the same level.

Where, then, do I get my fix for craft beer and craft beer conversations?  If I were a dork for superheroes, I’d have San Diego Comic Con.  If I were a gearhead, I’d have Sturgis.  If I were an idiot, I’d have Nickelback concerts.  For beer geeks, though, you haven’t lived until you’ve been to the Beer Bloggers Conference.

The Beer Bloggers Conference (henceforth referred to as BBC) is a three-day event wherein those who write about beer network with each other as well as brewery reps, explore a new city and see what it has to offer in terms of beer, and learn a thing or two about how to more effectively blog about their favorite brews.  2013 marked the fourth annual BBC and Nicole and I’s second (our first being 2012’s Indianapolis conference).  This time, however, the conference was held in Boston, a city neither of us had previously visited.

Fireworks at Kauffman

We’re road warriors, Nicole and I, and we enjoy seeing the country at a slower speed.  We hop around from state to state, city to city, brewery to brewery and really take in what this country has to offer.  Do you think 2,000+ miles convinced us to fly?  Heck no!  We’re in it for the adventure so we packed up the car, pointed east, and blasted across the wheat fields of Kansas.

First stop: Kansas City, MO where we camped and took in a Royals game.  I’m originally from the Midwest so you’d think I’d be accustomed to the sweltering heat mixed with saturating humidity.  I’ve been in Colorado too long—I was melting into a puddle at Kauffman Stadium.  Ah, but what doth I espy at left field?  A sight for sweaty eyes: the Boulevard Brewing Co. concession stand!  We clamored over rows of perspiring fans, bee-lined it to outfield, and shelled out for a plastic cup of Pale Ale.  Oh, the cool, sweet liquid between my lips on that clammy, miserable evening!  The glorious whiff of hops in a sea of body odor!  I don’t care if it’s sold at stadium prices; Boulevard saved my life that night.

The next day we pointed south to Branson for some non-beer and non-Yakov Smirnoff related fun (not that anybody could confuse Yakov Smirnoff with anything resembling “fun”).  No, instead I indulged in my other great, geeky passion: roller coasters.  Although the local amusement park—Silver Dollar City—is overpriced (even more than usual) and cheese-ball to the max, they still have a healthy handful of quality coasters namely Outlaw Run, the newest in the park.  Despite its never-before-seen-on-a-wooden-coaster inversions, this ride is great because it links all its major elements with fun little hills and turns which, collectively, are more entertaining than the marquee barrel rolls and steep drops.  Well, I don’t want you to tune-out as I gab on about stuff that isn’t beer so let me just draw a quick parallel: Outlaw Run is intense yet nuanced like a well-crafted Russian imperial stout.  Or, as Mr. Smirnoff might say, “In America, you kill bottle of Russian stout.  In Soviet Russia, stout Russian kill you with bottle!”

Outlaw Run (most of the track is hidden by woodlands)

After Branson, we headed back north, drove through monsoon-worthy rainstorms, and arrived in St. Louis.  We grabbed a campsite on the east bank of the Mississippi and, with daylight left to spare, decided to hit up a local brewery.  I’m not terribly familiar with St. Louis beer (except for the obvious so-called “King of Beers” and the slightly less obvious Schlafly) but, thankfully, Tamre, my buddy in beer and fellow conference attendee, had already informed me about the BreweryMap app which locates breweries within a certain circumference of the user’s location.  I don’t mind giving them a plug because it really is a great tool for when you’re away from home!    

I set BreweryMap to a five mile radius and clicked around mindlessly until I came across 4 Hands Brewing Co.  I reiterate that I know little of St. Louis beer yet this brewery seemed familiar.  Where had I heard it before?  At a festival?  At the liquor store?  Ah, yes; it was featured in Crafting a Nation (a fantastic documentary; go see it if you haven’t yet)!  I have no idea if 4 Hands is the “best” brewery under the arch (it’s at least really good) but there’s something to be said for national media exposure; I experienced 4 Hands on the silver screen and now I want to experience it in real-life! 

After navigating the braid-like network of bridges spanning the river, we were spit out somewhere near Busch Stadium and began meandering towards a part of town in which Clark Griswold might ask for directions because, like most great breweries, 4 Hands is off the typical, tourist path and is situated where the real St. Louisans live, work, and play.  Like Wynkoop Brewing Company to LoDo, 4 Hands is helping to bring up the neighborhood.

The façade of 4 Hands is that of an old-timey warehouse complete with caged windows but the interior, while still retaining an industrial feel, is much more inviting with its red brick walls, communal table (made from the building’s original bay doors), exposed ceiling beams, and rustic wood accents.  Situated to the left of the bar is a corner of glass that looks out onto the surprisingly vast brewing floor.

Glass corner at 4 Hands

Along with some tasty St. Louis-style BBQ, I ordered Prussia Berliner-Style Weiss (3.5% ABV), a lovely, cloudy yellow, tart ale that was the epitome of refreshing on a day that was—while less torturous than the one before—nonetheless defined by heat and humidity.  It features a touch of lemony citrus reminiscent of lemonade making for an all-the-more invigorating drinking experience.

So good was Prussia that I branched out and ordered samplers of three other beers: Second Hand (4.5% ABV), Prunus (6% ABV), and Contact High (5% ABV).     

Second Hand (which was brewed in collaboration with nearby 2^nd Shift Brewing Company hence the name) is what’s known as a “table beer.”  Table beers were once Belgian staples—a large bottle of low-alcohol beer to drink and share with the family during meals.  Yes, the whole family, kids included.  I don’t see the stigma, really; it’s smarter to teach your children to drink responsibly instead of making beer the “forbidden fruit” because, once they get their hands on that fruit, they’ll indulge in it a lot because they never know when the opportunity will strike again.  If beer is an everyday kind of thing, there’s no reason to splurge.  Hell, a low ABV beer’s still better for kids than McDonald’s, soft drinks, and all that other crap we shove down their gullets.  But, I digress.

Left to Right: Contact High, Prunus, & Second Hand

Second Hand is dry-hopped with El Dorado hops and the cloudy, orange beer packs a lot of fruity, spicy, complex flavors for having but a wisp of alcohol (actually, 4.5% pushes the boundaries of the definition of table beer). 

Prussia

Prunus, a sour cherry saison, pours a cloudy, dark reddish-orange.  It features a snip of tartness amidst an otherwise typical mix of Belgian spices, fruity esters, and other scents and flavors associated with the saison style.  It’s a solid beer for summertime sipping.

4 Hands

Contact High is a highly-hopped wheat ale.  The bright, rich, yellow beer’s northwest hops and orange zest impart a bitter, citrusy bite that may be an unpleasant surprise to those who usually like wheat beers but shun hoppy beers.  However, if you’re a fan of both wheat and hops, then Contact High is right up your alley!

Wow, that’s a long post and it’s only a fraction of what’s yet to come!  Stay tuned for more beer adventures as we head ever eastward towards Boston and the BBC.

Prost!

Chris   

After sitting all day in the car on that first leg of the journey, I was ready to spend the evening watching some baseball!  We had visited Kansas City a couple of years ago and walked around Kauffman Stadium but this was the first time we were able to catch a game.  In Colorado, the summer days may be hot but the evenings are comfortable enough to sit outside and enjoy yourself but KC’s weather is definitely not Colorado’s weather.  Chris and I got to the game about an hour before the game started and thought we would wait a few innings before finding something to quench our thirst.  However, we only lasted one inning before finding some good beer and good BBQ.

Chris already said his second geeky passion is roller coasters but he neglected to mention that he has a spreadsheet detailing each and every coaster that he and his family members have ridden.  Right now, he ranks in first place with 261 coasters while I have a mere 89 (24 new ones on this trip, though).  Considering I had been on but one roller coaster before I met Chris (and I cried when I was on it), 89 coasters isn’t too shabby.

Leaving Branson, we headed northeast in search of more beer, cooler weather, and more coasters.  First up: more beer.  4 Hands Brewing Co. has an inviting taproom with a large community table along with several smaller tables. One of the things that I really like about 4 Hands is the recycled materials in the taproom; the community table is the original dock door from the building, the foot rests on the bar were once fire sprinklers for the building, the bar is made from recycled glass, and the tables and chairs are from the walls of an 107-year old barn and some recycled pallets.

More of our journey to come!  We’ll be back with more stories soon.

Nicole

Outside seating at 4 Hands. 

Bavaria. Morrison. What's the diff?

On St. Patrick’s Day, everybody’s Irish.  On Cinco de Mayo, everybody’s a Mexican.  But, for three days out of the year in Morrison, Colorado, everybody’s German thanks to the German American Chamber of Commerce-sponsored Biergarten Festival which celebrated its 17^th anniversary this past weekend!

As both a beer lover and as somebody who’s, like, 99.98% ethnic German (French and Prussian fill out the rest), I’m proud of my stein-raising heritage.  And why not?  Besides an unfortunate time period defined by a certain jackass with a tiny mustache (who was technically Austrian anyway), Germany’s a pretty kick-ass nation.  Where else is beer considered an appropriate breakfast drink?  Where else do you see frail old ladies effortlessly lifting liters of Helles to their lips?  Where else is a biergarten as commonplace as a city park?  Where else but Germany?

With lederhosen donned (yeah, I own a pair of lederhosen; they were a birthday gift from my mom), Nicole and I hopped in das Auto, drove down a secluded country road, and pulled up to the festival entrance (or, more accurately, made a u-turn and pulled up to the festival entrance; the entry gate is easy to miss).  After acquiring our food and drink Fahrkarten at the front booth, we moseyed down to the festival grounds composed mainly of one permanent, wooden shelter, one large tent, and a beer truck pouring the wares of Paulaner Brauerei and, because of an impending Regensturm, a few scattered umbrellas that served as drying-off stations amidst the inclement weather. 

As a man of German ancestry, I felt right at Zuhause among the dirndls, oompah bands, steins, and schnitzels.  It must have shown, too, because when I went to order my bratwurst (with sauerkraut and curry ketchup), the German chef behind the table took one look at me all duded up in my alpine hat and Bavarian-colored blue-and-white checked shirt and starting speaking to me in Deutsch!  Whoa, there, Freund!  I’m flattered you think I look so authentic but my German-ness only goes so far!

However, authentic though it may have been, there’s one major difference between Biergarten Festival and your typical, run-of-the-mill German festival: the setting.  I give all due respect to Munich’s Hofbräuhaus, Rathaus-Glockenspiel, and Englischer Garten but it’s hard to compete with the open range, the craggy Mt. Glennon, and Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre shining bright in the distance, beckoning concert-goers with its rock-n-roll siren call.  It’s not the classic setting for such an event but it has a certain charisma all its own.   

   

Audis and Red Rocks in background

After perusing some mighty fancy beer steins, Nicole and I stopped by the Paulaner truck which was serving Wies’n, Märzen, Hefeweizen, and Dunkel.  I am a German-American so, on one hand, I was psyched to see beers from the Old World but the old “Red, Weiß, and Blau” in me wanted to see some beers made right here in America; this event was sponsored by the German American Chamber of Commerce, right?  Why not represent both countries?  I could definitely see Prost Brewing or Grimm Brothers Brewhouse (both Colorado breweries famous for their German-style beers) pouring alongside the Munich favorite Paulaner.  I suppose, though, that Biergarten Festival seeks to be as true-to-Germany as possible and, if you’ve ever been to Munich on an average day, most biergartens only serve two or three types of beer; they’re the epitome of “quality over quantity.”  Perhaps Biergarten Festival would lose a certain amount of charm should it morph into a full-on beer festival but, then again, one or two local breweries would hardly put it into Great American Beer Festival territory.  I’m looking for a little more bier in my biergarten, that’s all.  Just a suggestion to consider for next year. 

 

Schnapps tray

We listened to the musical stylings of Helmut Fricker as we huddled under the wooden pavilion and drank our beers.  Looking around the pavilion, I think there’s one thing you must know before attending Biergarten Festival: it’s an all-ages party.  There’re plusses and minuses to being so family-friendly.  On the downside, it’s perhaps not as raucous as one might like what with the majority of attendees being either younger than ten or older than 65 but, on the upside, you don’t have to deal with the frat boys, belligerents, and other unsavory characters that larger, 21-and-over beer festivals attract.  It’s not like you can’t still have fun with a few rascals running underfoot—just watch where you step.  And it wouldn’t kill you to strike up a conversation with a few of the more seasoned beer drinkers, too; they can be your surrogate Großeltern and maybe teach you a thing or two about how they downed brews back in their day.

It’s been going strong for 17 years so you know it’s coming back again for number 18!  Next year, gather up the Kinder, grab your Ehemann or Ehefrau, and celebrate the way any family should—with beer, bratwurst, and all things Bavaria!

Prost!

Chris

Helmut Fricker

Impressive (and expensive) steins

Don't ask

Seriously, don't ask

Beer Festival Showdown: Epic V. GABF

Every beer festival is unique and that’s why it’s possible to have so many just in Colorado— it never feels like the “same old, same old” because there’s something different about one event that sets it apart from the other events.  Sometimes that difference is in what types of beer are served (e.g. Parade of Darks, Boulder SourFest, Big Beers, Belgians and Barleywines), sometimes that difference is in the event’s spectacular location (e.g. Rails & Ales Brewfest, Telluride Blues & Brews, Brew at the Zoo), and sometimes that difference is in the event’s sheer enormity (e.g. Great American Beer Festival [GABF]).  People often ask “What’s your favorite beer festival?” but, when you consider how different they all are, it’s nearly impossible to make a comparison.   

Epic Beer Festival

Epic Beer Festival

Then again, sometimes two festivals come along that are similar; a comparison that’s less apples-to-oranges and more Granny-Smiths-to-McIntoshes.  When that happens, it’s considerably easier to make a point-by-point evaluation and that’s precisely what I intend to do: the inaugural Denver Epic Beer Festival (held last weekend) vs. GABF.

First, let’s talk similarities.  The biggest connection is they’re both held in the Colorado Convention Center; GABF-alums may experience déjà vu whilst exploring the Epic.  Secondly, they’re both theme-less and, instead of relying on gimmicks like “all dark beers,” “all sour beers,” or “all lagers,” they attract guests by simply offering a lot of everything.  If one were to be given a split-second glance at either Epic or GABF, they’d be indiscernible.

Entertainment at Epic

Look closer, though, and you’ll realize that there are actually several details that make each event distinctive.  For example:

Overall Size

Epic is big and, if you’ve never been to GABF, it might be the biggest beer fest you’ve ever attended.  However, if you have been to GABF (and if the copious amounts of beer haven’t hazed your memory too significantly) you might notice two very large objects at Epic that aren’t at GABF; King Kong-sized folding accordion walls cordoning off two sides of the festival floor.  I believe this means Epic uses but a quarter of the space used by GABF.  Not too say ¼ of GABF isn’t awe-inspiring, just that GABF is awe-inspiring times four. 

Furthermore, notice the spacing of the rows at Epic; those aisles are a lot wider than usual.  Hell, I bet you could fit another GABF row down the middle of an Epic row!  Not only does Epic use a quarter of GABF’s space but they’re 50% less efficient with their spacing, too.  Thus, Epic is huge but GABF is epic!

Navigating the Festival

There are upsides to being slightly smaller, though.  At Epic, attendees can walk right through the convention center doors and start drinking almost immediately.  In contrast, GABF features a monstrous queue that wraps around the entire building and can sometimes take nearly an hour to complete. 

At Black Bottle Brewery's booth 

Likewise, when you get your beer at Epic’s booths, you’re in and out in a breeze whereas the lines at GABF might be more appropriate at an amusement park.  At Epic, one of the longest lines (and deservedly so) was for Trinity Brewing Company’s TPS Report but, even then, it was a matter of ten of fifteen seconds before beer was in your cup.  At GABF, if TPS Report hadn't already tapped out hours ago, you’d probably have to wait maybe three or four minutes before belly meets booth.  That’s not an interminable wait but it is approximately 15 times longer; those seconds add up.

You’re also less jostled at Epic; sure, those wide lanes mean less beer but it also means you’re less likely to spill because of some drunk dude’s errant elbow.

Beer Selection

Contrary to logic, although Epic is much smaller, it has a beer selection almost as diverse as GABF.  Actually, empirical data would prove that assumption to be absolutely incorrect but Epic does, at least, create the illusion of a GABF-esque variety of brews and does so by serving not only American-made beers but also international brands. 

Well, that's odd

As a proponent of the “drink local” philosophy, I don’t know which situation is better.  It’s nice to get a little transnational flavor from time to time if only to let your palate explore the world (and to get myself a few beers closer to the Das Boot badge on Untappd) but I also appreciate GABF’s devotion to American craft; I’m not overtly patriotic but, when it comes to craft beer, I’m all about the red, white, and brew blue.                                                                                        

Certainly, one can’t say a disparaging word about Brouwerij Van Steenberge, Brauerei Aying, or Traquair House Brewery but, being classic breweries of the Old World, they’re long-established and they’re not going anywhere.  American craft beer—even though it seems as though it’s been around for ages—compared to most European brewers is a newborn baby next to Methuselah.  Since American beer is so young, it’s especially important to show support and help keep it running.  Essentially, the exposure that Joe Schmo’s two-year-old brewery receives at festivals is indispensable whereas the exposure a centuries-old, monastic brewery from Belgium receives is really quite inconsequential; Joe Schmo is clawing for his place in the brewing world, that Belgian brewery is rock-solid.  By all means, drink the classics but the beer geek community must really, really make an effort to back-up the little guys.             

Glassware

Nicole and I volunteer poured on Epic’s Friday night session and earned tickets for the Saturday afternoon session.  I was pouring for New Planet Gluten Free Beer and Nicole was at Magic Hat Brewing Company.  Granted, we’ve never volunteered at GABF but I think it’s safe to say that, from the pourer’s standpoint, GABF has the superior glassware. 

The advantage lies within the shape of the glass: GABF has a tall, tapered glass while Epic’s is a squat, cylindrical mug and, even at the bottom where it’s narrowest, the GABF glass is wider.  Why does any of that matter?  Because when you’re constantly pouring beer (especially from a bottle, can, or pitcher) into a tipsy person’s cup, you want as big a target as possible.  Those tiny Epic mouths are hard to pinpoint.

The GABF glasses are similarly advantageous to the drinker.  While some may think that Epic’s two ounce pours are twice as good as GABF’s one ounce pours, consider this: an Epic glass filled to the brim is two ounces of beer.  That means that even the slightest klutzy move on part of the drinker sends a mini-cascade of sticky beer all over one’s hands and feet. 

Nicole and a bear

With the GABF glasses, however, one might receive half the amount of beer (although it hardly makes a difference when we’re talking about one vs. two ounces) but the glass has the potential for twice as much as an Epic glass.  That’s three ounces of buffer zone; at GABF, you can fist-pump like a Jersey Shore moron and not spill a drop.  For the geeky folks out there, that extra space also allows for some aroma-releasing swirls (and the wide mouth helps get your whole schnozz right in there, too).    

In sum, there’re pros and cons to both events but, really, who’s ever gone to a beer festival and had a bad time?  Go to GABF, go to Epic, go to as many festivals as you can because, despite the positive and negative nuances, it’s still a beer festival and it’s going to be a lot of fun.

Prost!

Chris 

Although Chris and I live in a land far, far away (AKA: Suburbia), we still enjoy going downtown to try new restaurants, catch a Rockies game, or meet up with friends.  Now, thanks to RTD’s W Line, we have an easy way to get there!  We rode the light rail on both Friday night, when we volunteered, and on Saturday when we just plain enjoyed Epic Beer Fest.

Volunteer pouring was an interesting experience; Magic Hat didn’t deliver one of the beers advertised on their booth’s poster so we constantly had to tell people that we didn’t have any.  The two beers we did have were #9, a fruit beer, and Circus Boy, a lemongrass Hefeweizen.  When people asked if I liked the beers I was serving, I didn’t want to lie but, honestly, the lemongrass Hefeweizen, tasted like soap.  I find lemongrass to be one of those foods that you either love or hate—no in between. Judging by the reaction of most people at my booth, most people do not enjoy lemongrass.

As volunteers, there wasn’t much time to try any of the other beers but we did start strategizing a plan of action for Saturday and first on the hit-list was Trinity’s TPS Report.  If you haven’t tried it, go to the nearest liquor store that carries craft beer, like, now!  Another sour that I really enjoyed at Epic was Cuvée-Brut from Brouwerij Liefmans.

My goal for the afternoon was to get my Johnny Appleseed badge on Untappd (I got it!).  Luckily, Epic prides itself on being a beer fest that can still be enjoyed by people on a gluten-free diet.  They had plenty of gluten-free beers and, of course, ciders.  One of my favorites is Pome Mel from Colorado Cider Company but I also really enjoyed the Pacific Pear from Fox Barrel.  

Overall, the Epic Beer Fest was a great experience.  I am definitely excited to try it again next year.

Nicole

Have you heard of this supposedly Colorado beer? I'm confused.

Texas. Wisconsin. Colorado. The explanation just makes me more confused. 

Quick! Get this guy a beer!

A Summer Brewery 3-fer

1967: The Summer of Love.  1985: “Summer of ‘69” ~ Bryan Adams.  1999: Summer of Sam ~ Spike Lee.  2013: The Summer of Colorado Beer.

To be fair, every summer is the “Summer of Colorado Beer” but these past few weeks have been especially foamy.  We’ve had three new breweries—Mountain Toad Brewing, Odyssey Beerwerks, and Beer By Design Brewery—open in the Denver metro area seemingly simultaneously (in the case of Mountain Toad and Odyssey, actually simultaneously) and Nicole and I are scrambling to keep up!  Fear not, for we are up to the task; we’ve started the summer out right and have already visited these three, fine additions to the Colorado beer scene.

 

Beer garden at Mountain Toad

First up, Golden’s fourth brewery, third craft brewery, and second since the beginning of 2013: Mountain Toad.  While Mountain Toad is technically located on Washington Avenue—the street that runs through Golden’s downtown—it is north of Clear Creek where Washington passes through neighborhoods and parks more so than shops and restaurants. 

The outside of Mountain Toad is a simple brick box with large windows and the interior is just as unassuming.  However, the beauty of Mountain Toad isn’t the brewery itself but rather what’s outside the brewery: the beer garden.  Not just any beer garden, though; with old growth trees around the perimeter, tall, wooden fences, an expansive drinking area with picnic tables and a food truck, and South Table Mountain peeking through the foliage, one can easily forget that one is actually feet away from a semi-major thoroughfare, a veterinarian’s office, and a slew of suburban homes.  When you’re at the Mountain Toad beer garden, you’re in a private, secluded, beer hideaway. 

 

Mountain Toad

I tried (ineffectively, I think) to explain something to Nicole when we were there and I’ll try again (with similarly ineffectual results, I’m sure) but Mountain Toad is one of those places you’d want to visit if you’re from out-of-town.  Not to say locals won’t like it; it’s just that road-trippers and tourists who visit will leave Mountain Toad feeling they’ve been somewhere really special and, I think, is due to the beer garden.  Yes, the beer is excellent (we’ve been twice and I’ve had the IPA, stout, and the amber—all worth ordering) but the setting is so—I don’t even know the right word—ethereal, maybe?  Like, if you were traveling through and stopped in for a beer you’d feel a preternatural sense of calm and well-being as you sipped your suds and watched the local merrymakers but, once you leave, you’d kind of expect to turn around and see the brewery had vanished like some sort of fairy kingdom.  Mountain Toad is the Brigadoon of breweries.  

Perhaps it’s that I recognize Mountain Toad as an instant nostalgia-maker.  During the war, before shipping out, your grandpa probably stopped off at that English pub for a bitter and wound up dancing with the “prettiest girl this side of the Atlantic.”  And he probably told that story 1,000 times.  I imagine a couple, struggling in their marriage, moving from Chicago to Los Angeles because of his corporate job, taking a pit stop at Mountain Toad, sharing a few drinks and laughs, and rekindling their passion for each other amidst the cozy, hidden garden and the general happiness that pervades the space.

I’m reminded of the time Nicole and I visited Asheville, North Carolina.  All the breweries we visited were great but, if I had to choose, it is Pisgah Brewing Company that will forever stick out in my mind.  Most of the breweries in Asheville were easy to find being located downtown and on busy streets but Pisgah was out in the boonies.  First, it’s hard to find the street it’s on, then, it’s hard to find the front door, and then it’s hard navigating the hallways to the taproom and beer garden but, once there, you know you’ve found something special—something locally-known but perhaps not on the entire nation’s radar.  Mountain Toad may not be as isolated as Pisgah but the romanticism is comparable. 

Not long after visiting Mountain Toad, we headed to Arvada’s third brewery: Odyssey Beerwerks.  In many ways, Odyssey is just as secret as Mountain Toad; even more so, really.  However, Mountain Toad’s solitude is derived from the privacy fence and trees while Odyssey’s hiddenness is due to its location deep, deep in a commercial strip complex.  Even after you’ve left any named road, you still must navigate winding parking lots, past indistinct facades, all the way to the back of the tract compound where, like an oasis shimmering in a monotonous desert, you stumble upon a loading-dock-cum-patio, an open, inviting garage door, and an interior with soaring, industrial ceilings and touches of rustic wood and metal within the otherwise simple, dry-walled taproom.  A waist-high partition separates drinkers from the brewing equipment situated to the left.      

Nicole and I grabbed a table near the open garage door and ordered samplers of the following: Ghost Rider Pale Ale (5.1% ABV), Psycho Penguin Vanilla Porter (5.5% ABV), Caber Tosser Scotch Ale (8.9% ABV) and Nebula Belgian Black Double IPA (8.2% ABV).

Ghost Rider is a brassy, mostly clear (perhaps a touch of haze), yellow/orange.  The aroma is tobacco-y, hoppy, and grapefruit-like.  With a good malt balance, Ghost Rider is quite mild with a fresh-brewed ice tea flavor.

A muddy brown color, Psycho Penguin smells of vanilla ice cream with chocolate drizzle.  The flavor is that of milk chocolate with a vanilla-y finish.

 

Odyssey

Caber Tosser is a rusty brown/red, murky, and burning, alcoholic wafts permeate the nose.  It tastes smoky, sweet, and earthy. 

Nebula, another muddy brown-colored beer, smells a lot like Juicy Fruit gum and the flavors are that of tongue-warming spice and banana.

While I may make it sound as if Odyssey is harder to find than Shangri La, it is, in fact, spitting distance from the Ralston Creek bike trail which takes riders to Olde Town Arvada and the Arvada Beer Company which, in turn, is not far from Yak & Yeti Restaurant & Brewpub.  An all-Arvada brewery bike crawl?  Yes, that’s a more than reasonable possibility. 

 

Odyssey

A few days after visiting Odyssey, Nicole and I’s next stop was Northglenn’s very first brewery: Beer By Design.  Keeping with this post’s theme of veiled breweries, Beer By Design (or BBD), is also hidden albeit hidden in plain sight; the nonchalant motorist could easily drive by the place 100 times and not realize it’s a brewery.  The ribbed concrete exterior looks like a place to buy sheetrock or rent a forklift and even the sign looks like it belongs to an architectural firm.  As far as I know, any of those might have been the building’s original uses but not anymore—now it’s a place to grab a brew.

The interior of BBD is just as industrial as the exterior: more ribbed concrete, corrugated steel plating, and exposed HVAC.  No frills or doodads here, BBD is the very definition of no-nonsense simplicity.

While Nicole and I sampled our slightly roasty, cloudy, and bready Copper Mountain Pale Ale (5.5% ABV), an older couple at the corner of the bar noticed us writing in The Beer Journal and, making the not-too-unreasonable assumptive leap that we, like them, were really be into beer, struck up a conversation.  We talked about the breweries we’ve visited, our beer-centric opinions, our travel plans for the future, and, throughout our tête-à-tête, I had a sudden realization—in sci-fi fashion, our future selves from 30 or 40 years ahead had travelled back in time to meet us at BBD and talk beer!  Seriously, if Nicole and I are an iota different from these fine folks when we reach their age, I’ll be quite surprised.  I can definitely see my appetite for fine ales and my fine lady extending well into my golden years much as it has for the gentleman that sat diagonally from me that day.  If that’s the life that’s in store for Nicole and I then I welcome the future.  Truly, craft beer is a hobby—nay, lifestyle—that transcends generations.

 

BBD

We left BBD with 107 Colorado breweries under our belts but, if history is any indication, there’ll still be many, many more to visit in due time.  Until then, drink safe and enjoy the summer!

Prost!

Chris       

Rallying the Troops: Drinking Beer, Fighting Hunger

Beer and food pairings are all the rage: seared Chilean sea bass with Japanese sweet potato mousselin paired with chardonnay barrel-aged bière de garde, charcoal-grilled Canadian sirloin with sautéed asparagus tips and ginger-infused nectarine puree paired with imperial Scottish gruit ale, and hand-strangled koala stuffed with 57 Hot Pockets and rare, heated gazpacho paired with Russian kvass blended with quadrupel brewed with the sweat of St. Relindis of Maaseik.  That’s all well and good but can I, like, just get a taco or something?  An expertly paired beer/food course is something I can totally get behind but, oftentimes, I just want to try a bunch of craft beer and stuff my face with BBQ ribs and bratwurst.  Thanks to the Front Range Rally, held in Loveland and benefiting the Food Bank for Larimer County, beer geeks like me got the chance to taste a ton of craft beer and pair it with the unpretentious scrumptiousness from award-winning, local food trucks.

 

The beer list and our funky cups

Set in the parking lot of the Loveland Food Share, the Rally, unlike Telluride Blues & Brews Festival or Rails & Ales Brewfest, may not win many awards for majestic scenery but the asphalt slab for which the beer tents used as foundation wasn’t without its charms.  Being held at such a site, the Rally seemed like a spontaneous occurrence—like a flash mob of beer, food, and music just popped up in this parking lot!  It was less contrived, more honest than most beer festivals that can sometimes try to razzle-dazzle you with silent discos, quirky locals, and presentations all of which I do enjoy but, really, when it comes down to it, I’m here for the beer and it can be refreshing to cut the frills from time to time. 

Nicole and I pulled up to the Rally entrance, showed our IDs, got wrist-banded, received our food truck tokens, and picked up our tasting glasses.  My delicate beer geek sensibilities were faintly offended to see that the drinking vessels were plastic cups with a molded shot glasses in the center (you pour the shot into the center cup, your chaser into the outer ring, and then throw it down your gullet).  It seemed weird; like I was in Cancun over Spring Break.  But, in the end, does it really matter?  Is anybody that interested in proper vessels when they’re walking around a parking lot, eating grilled cheese sandwiches, listening to local folk rock bands, and enjoying a warm, spring afternoon?  No, absolutely not.  Not even I was interested.  I’m just being a persnickety little prick, I guess.    

Fortunately, the parking lot was quite large allowing for many breweries to share the space—32 in all and one cider-maker—and each brewery brought several beers.  Suffice to say, there were plenty of suds slinging in Loveland and, while I tried a lot, I barely made a dent in the provided beer list.  Here are some that I thought stood above the crowds and why:

♦ Watermelon Kolsch-Style Ale from Fate Brewing Company.  Holy cow!  If they took the word “refreshing” and pureed it into liquid, it would be this beer.  It’s light, watery, but still flavorful: the perfect thirst quencher.

♦ Bandit Brown from City Star Brewing just because we finally tasted the base-style for those fabulous vanilla and whisky-barreled versions we had at the Berthoud taproom (click here).

♦ Juicy Peach Ale from Big Beaver Brewing Co.  Like Watermelon Kolsch, it’s just plain refreshing and it definitely lives up to its name in terms of flavor.

♦ Rub-A-Chub Kolsch from Big Beaver for the name alone.

♦ Near Da Beach from Pateros Creek Brewing Co.  I’ll just let their press release do the talking for this one: “Spiced Colonial Ale – With the help of Funkwerks and CB & Potts, we hand made a jerk seasoning using habanero, allspice, cumin, and nutmeg and then brewed a biscuity English-style ale with a sweet pineapple finish.”

♦ Sofie and Sofie Paradisi from Goose Island Beer Co.  These guys may incur the wrath of slighted beer geeks for selling out to Anheuser-Busch but they still make some great stuff. 

As it is with almost every beer event, it’s not about the beer so much as it is about the people you meet—people such as the social media manager at City Star (whom I’ve Twitter’d to on more than one occasion) as well as the guys behind Echo Brewing Co.  We met up with volunteer and fellow beer blogger Dave of Fermentedly Challenged plus a lot of people with Indiana connections (Nicole was wearing a Sun King Brewery shirt).  One of those Indiana folk was a brewer at The Fort Collins Brewery.  We also chatted a bit with the folks at High Hops Brewery because I know they have strong connections in the hop farming industry and that’s an agricultural pursuit in which I’d like to get my parents involved.  Probably a good retirement job, don’t you think?

It was an excellent event and props go out to the volunteers and brewers who made it so special.  Even when a gust of wind came blowing down the slopes and when the cardboard garbage cans and tents—unable to stake into the asphalt—starting lifting off the ground, the people running the show where right there picking up loose trash and tethering down canopies with their own body weight.  No wind was going to stop the beer from pouring at the Front Range Rally!

Compared to other beer festivals, the Rally was quite small but, as the cliché goes, great things come in small packages.  It wasn’t overwhelming, it was outside in the sunshine, there were lots of small, somewhat obscure local breweries, and many of the attending breweries brought along some of their wackier, non-flagship beers which I always appreciate. 

The Front Range Rally is set to be an annual occurrence so, if you missed it this year, catch it again in 2014.  It’s fun and, although no beer geek needs an excuse to drink, drinking for charity usually make you feel just a little better about it.

Prost!

Chris       

I really enjoyed the small, welcoming atmosphere of the Front Range Rally.  As we wandered from tent to tent, we were able to actually talk to the brewers and learn a little bit about the beers that we were drinking.  But, there was too much to choose from and we didn’t have a chance to try everything.

Compared to a larger beer festival like Great American Beer Festival (GABF), the Front Range Rally wasn’t at all intimidating—I felt I could actually take a moment to relax.  We were able to chat with fellow beer geeks as we waited in line and met a couple with t-shirt slogans written in binary code.  We also met some other beer lovers that had recently moved from Indiana so it’s a good thing I wore my Sun King shirt.

Chris and I agree that big beer festivals are awesome because they offer so many different beers but the big festivals are impersonal; you don’t get to enjoy your beer before you’re filling your glass again.  My solution: regional GABFs.  There are so many regions that Chris and I don’t get to visit during the year and you can’t visit them all in one or two nights at GABF.  If they parced it out into different sections of the country and held these events at different times throughout the year, beer geeks might better explore our nation’s great beers.

Some of the Rally highlights:

1) The food from Quiero Arepas, one of my favorite food trucks.

2) Watermelon Kӧlsch.  I have been trying to get my hands on Hell or High Watermelon from 21^st Amendment Brewery for a while now. This was satisfying substitute.

3) Pome Mel, a cider from Colorado Cider Company made with Colorado wildflower honey.

4) Juicy Peach Ale from Big Beaver Brewing Co., a nice thirst-quenching brew that is perfect for a hot, summer afternoon.

5) Bandit Brown.  This is one of my favorite beers that City Star Brewing makes. They have several variations that I want to try, including hazelnut and vanilla.

Nicole 

Beer Not in Colorado: Homecoming III -- The Drinkening

Please click here to read about last year’s trip to Indianapolis.

Back home again in Indiana,
and it seems that I can see
the gleaming candle light, still burning bright, 
through the sycamores for me.
The new-mown hay sends all its fragrance
through the fields I used to roam.
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash
then I long for my Indiana home.

I’m called to the mountains, to the snow, to the canyons of the Western Slope.  I yearn for the crisp, thin air, the alpine meadows, and the springtime blizzards.  I love Colorado.  I love its scenery, I love its people, and—you guessed it—I love its beer.  Alas, I was neither born nor raised here.  I’m from the land of corn and cows, of thunderstorms, limestone, and forests so dense you can’t see five feet in.  I’m of a place where Christianity is the minority faith to the religion of high school basketball and where, if you don’t play Euchre, then leave the table.  A place called Indiana, a place Nicole and I visited about a week ago.

 

Slippery Noodle

Like our past May visits to The Circle City, Nicole and I were there to compete in the OneAmerica 500 Festival Mini Marathon and, while the main purpose of the trip was one of strenuous physical activity, that’s no reason why we couldn’t unwind with a few local beers after the race (and before).

Shortly after landing at the Indianapolis airport, we were whisked away by my parents to our hotel where, after a brief period of rest, we were ready to hit the town for some pre-race libations.

Our first stop was the Slippery Noodle Inn—Indiana’s oldest bar and the city’s premier blues venue.  Only a smidge removed from hipper-than-you-might-think downtown Indy, Slippery Noodle is a little gritty and a little blue collar what with its neon beer signs, ubiquitous pictures of Jake and Elwood Blues, and other assorted dive bar memorabilia but, even with these decidedly contemporary touches, a pressed tin ceiling, a risqué, wild west-style picture of a lady of the evening, and ornate, wooden bar back keep Slippery Noodle planted firmly in the past.  And what a past!  Slippery Noodle was a stop on the Underground Railroad, an illegal brewery during Prohibition, a bordello, and a place John Dillinger used for target practice.  If you want your drink garnished with a little history, check out Slippery Noodle.

While there, I ordered the Blues Brew by Upland Brewing Co., Slippery Noodle’s house beer.  It’s a middle-of-the-road IPA that’s not too hoppy for the uninitiated but still possessing a mild kick.  It’s a good house beer for Slippery Noodle which, even with a modestly impressive craft beer selection, doesn’t necessarily cater to the beer geek crowd; it’s more a cheap beer and whiskey joint.  Blues Brew is one of those bridging beers that just might make a hop-head out of an unsuspecting domestic-beer guzzler.  I also ordered Half Court IPA from Cutters Brewing Company mostly because the logo of an old-timey barn with a basketball hoop hanging over the door tugged at my Hoosier heartstrings.

 

Blues Brew

After Slippery Noodle, we walked to Iozzo’s Garden of Italy to carb up for the race and, amidst the shoveling of pasta into my face, I washed my meal down with an Osiris Pale Ale from Sun King Brewery which I claim is the Dale’s Pale Ale of Indiana; it’s everywhere, it’s bitter, and it’s great.  Also, both beers are canned.  It is no wonder that Sun King and the Oskar Blues Brewery crew are so good at collaborating with each other—they are kindred spirits.  On a side note, Iozzo’s is probably some of the best Italian food you’re going to find in the Midwest so check it out if you’re in town.

The next day was race day.  I believe I finished the 13.1 mile race somewhere around 1:37:00 which, being the sixth time I’ve run this race, is neither my best nor worst time.  I’m holding steady, at least.

Post-race, Nicole and I soothed our aching muscles for just a minute for the call of craft beer was too strong to ignore.  Before long, we were on our way to Jockamo Upper Crust Pizza, recommended to us by our local beer contact Tamre whom Nicole and I first met at the Indy Beer Bloggers Conference.  It’s tasty pizza made better with a little Alpha King Pale Ale from Three Floyds Brewing Co., a beer I’d almost say usurps Osiris as “Dale’s of Indiana” except it’s brewed in northern Indiana so, really, most of the fans of Alpha King reside in Chicago or southern Michigan.  Of course, it’s still brewed in Indiana but it’s not centrally located like Sun King which would have to travel much further to distribute out-of-state.  Alpha King is great beer, don’t get me wrong, it’s just torn between too many regions while Sun King devotes pretty much all its energy to its home state.  Then again, Oskar Blues distributes in many states outside of Colorado so my reasoning seems to be a bit flawed.  Whatever, I’m still sticking by my original assertion because it was my gut reaction (and because Alpha King doesn't come in a can): Osiris=Dale’s.

Moving on from that tangent, after recommending Jockamo to us, Tamre and her husband decided to eat there, too, and, after meeting up and eating up, we all headed next door to Black Acre Brewing Co.

Black Acre’s interior is comprised of rustic, aged wood boards adorning the walls of the bar area,  chunks of thick, rough, fence post-like stakes forming a stand-up, communal table, iron fixtures, and modern touches such as shiny, flat wood panels and modern art hanging on the wall.  It’s a lovely juxtaposition of rural and urban. 

I had both the Wedlock Belgian-style porter and the Saucy Intruder, a rye IPA, and, as we caught-up with old friends, the question of why Black Acre was named as such crawled into my dad’s head and refused to leave so, before we left, we had to slake his curiosity.  Apparently, many of the people behind the brewery’s creation were once involved in real estate or property law or some such similar thing and, in that realm of business, a “black acre” is essentially the property equivalent of “John Doe.”  It’s a placeholder name for a location that doesn’t yet have a designation and, before the brewery had a name, they just called it Black Acre until they realized that’s a pretty cool name and simply kept it.  There, now go impress your friends with your astounding real estate knowledge. 

The rest of the day involved a lot more eating and drinking throughout Indy: Workingman’s Pilsner by Fountain Square Brewing Co. (pretty decent) and a Wee Mac Scottish Ale by Sun King Brewery (best American-made Scottish ale in the eyes of this beer geek) at Scotty’s Brewhouse where we kept a few-years-old tradition alive by placing $1 bets on the Kentucky Derby (my dad won; don’t even mention the word “Orb” around him lest you set him off on a bragging frenzy), Dragonfly IPA by Upland at Mikado Japanese Restaurant and Sushi Bar, and a Batch #1 Bourbon Barrel Oatmeal Stout (would need more body and more Bourbon flavors before I really got into it) by Triton Brewing Company at the Indianapolis Colts Grille. 

We called it a night so that we might finally rest our tired, marathon-haggard legs on something other than a bar stool.  But the adventure wasn’t over yet; we still had a whole Sunday to enjoy Indy’s beer scene.

The next day, legs feeling even more sore than the day before, we hopped in the car and drove to the Broad Ripple neighborhood and Brugge Brasserie—a brewery, as I recall, that, along with Sun King, helped Indiana win the most medals of any state at the 2011 Great American Beer Festival.  With an accomplishment like that, you know you’re in for a treat.

Brugge—residing in a monolithic brick building with an over-sized Belgian goblet cut from metal hanging on the side—is a more refined brewery.  No cinder blocks, fluorescent lighting, or grain bags hanging on the walls here; Brugge features polished copper table tops, hand-blown glass light fixtures, and draperies over the windows.  There’s a touch of class present at Brugge. 

 

Neat table at Brugge

Brugge didn’t have a wide selection of their own beers on tap—mostly guest brews—but the one’s they had were extraordinary; quality over quantity, as they say.  Pooka, a sour beer made with boysenberry, absolutely blew my mind!  What a wonderful, lemony, summertime drink!  Any brewery with the cajones to brew sour beers immediately has my attention and any brewery that brews good sour beers has my undying respect.  Props, Brugge; you hit it out of the park with this one.  I also had the Soul Brother #1, a brown ale, which was, y’know, pretty good but it had a hard time following Pooka’s act. 

 

Pooka

One last thing on Brugge: if you’re wondering why all the tables have holes in them, they’re not there so you can scrape off debris (although, looking through the holes of our table, it sure seemed like that’s what patrons thought they were for).  Order some of Brugge’s excellent fries, which come in conical, wrapped paper, and you’ll understand the holes’ purpose.

We popped over to nearby Thr3e Wise Men Brewing Co., a brewery Nicole and I had visited two years prior, and indulged in a few more beers.  Namely, Centennial Martyr Double IPA and Two Sisters Carolina Saison which were both quite nice but I especially enjoyed the Centennial Martyr—great example of the Double IPA style.

 

Soul Brother #1 & the purpose of the table holes

After leaving Thr3e Wise Men, we took a much needed rest.  Dinner that night was at St. Elmo Steak House, almost certainly the fanciest and most famous restaurant in the city; the place where you’d have the best chance of seeing a local celebrity (remember the Guitar Hero episode of South Park when Stan and Kyle went to the exclusive party rife with “celebrities” like Jake Jabs and Ron Zappolo?  Those are the types of celebrities you’d see at St. Elmo).  Normally, I wouldn’t go to such a high-end restaurant but I’d never been before and, like Slippery Noodle, it’s an Indy institution so everybody from Indiana really ought to go at least once in their lives.

I don’t have much to say about beer when it comes to St. Elmo.  They do have a pretty decent craft beer menu so I had the STLIPA from Urban Chestnut Brewing Company (the only non-Indiana beer I had the whole trip) and it was quite nice.  And, of course, the steak is great, too, but, oddly enough for a landlocked state, the biggest standout on the menu is the shrimp cocktail.  People don’t talk much about the shrimp themselves but more about the sauce in which it comes slathered.  Good God!  I love spicy food but the excessive amounts of horseradish in this cocktail will make flames shoot out your nostrils!  Definitely go to St. Elmo if you’ve got a head cold; they’ll hollow your head out with quick burst of fire.

With that, we concluded our weekend in Indy.  I’m glad to be back in Colorado, there’s no doubt about that, but being home for short periods of time is, I think, good for the soul.  It is a time to remember where you come from, how you were raised, and to reconnect with your roots.  But, with all due respect to the moonlight on the Wabash, when I dream of a finely-crafted Hoosier beer, then I long for my Indiana home.

Prost!

Chris   

We stumbled upon a church auction Saturday night raffling off a Colts helmet. Unfortunately, it was signed by Coach Caldwell which, to Denver fans, is like a Broncos helmet signed by McDaniels; the coach we want to forget