Upland Brewery – Persimmon Lambic

UPLAND’S FRUITED lambics must be among the Midwest’s most unanimously respected beer series. With ingredients familiar (strawberry, cherry) and foreign (kiwi, paw paw), these carefully-crafted and patiently-aged sour ales have a deservedly devoted following. Powerfully fruity yet still traditionally dry and undeniably tart, they make the most of boldly experimental American adjuncts while still incorporating the complex texture and flavors of Belgium’s brewing wilderness.

Despite its unusual choice of fruit addition, this Persimmon lambic falls more towards the conservative end of the series’ spectrum. Its aroma is bright, zesty, and moderately sour, showing substantially lemon and slight sour cream notes of lactic acid without revealing very much fruit. Oak character from the barrel-aging aging is subdued, mostly contributing smoothing vanilla in the background. Persimmon does contribute a broadly fruity tang (somewhere between melon, apricot, peach, and citrus), but does not leap out with a single, defining flavor—unlike, for instance, the Blackberry or Kiwi versions.

Instead the Persimmon lambic is akin to the still-experimental Paw Paw variety: cagily fruity but still letting the wild yeasts lead the way, drying out the body almost completely and delivering pronounced acidity and strong effervescence that lands lightly upon the tongue and dissipates evenly throughout the mouth, leaving it slightly scoured and refreshed. Altogether it’s less singular a concoction than some of Upland’s other lambics, but one’s hard-pressed to call it much worse. Contrary to expectations, this unconventional adjunct actually resulted in a flavor profile more appealing to fans of traditional lambic, so neatly is it framed alongside the robust tang of Brett and other wild beasts.

Served: 750 ml bottle

Rating: 90

New Belgium – Snapshot Wheat

IF ANY AMERICAN brewery could win the masses to sour ale, surely it must be New Belgium: the nation’s largest Belgian-themed brewery and curators of the unconventional Lips of Faith series. Chicago’s Goose Island is famous for the Orval-inspired Matilda that was indeed a transformative pioneer in the field, but that beer and its sisters in the Vintage Series always aimed for a discerning crowd of gastronomes and wine drinkers who were more easily persuadable in the first place. New Belgium has instead focused their new Snapshot on a much wider field of consumers, selling it in affordable six packs of easy-drinking American wheat ale. This broad contingent of styles is dynamic and highly marketable, ranging from nationwide money machines (312, Blue Moon) to more exclusive and/or robustly flavored cult favorites (A Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’, Gumballhead). So which camp would New Belgium join?

Neither, really. Although Snapshot does feature lactobacillus-soured wort for part of its blend, its flavors ultimately fall much more in line with the simple refreshment of a summery wheat ale, easily quaffed from the bottle at the ballpark without giving its sour component a second thought. Its aroma slips through pale malt, some wheat, lemon, with a very light touch of cream and tartness, and the flavors correspond: light and crisp with a touch of tang towards the finish, almost more salty and piquant than sour or creamy. The ABV of 5% and IBUs of 13 are both non-factors, though a little floral note comes in the aroma from Cascade hops.

The body is light enough to be hardly noticeable until a larger sip is taken, and with that longer exposure the lactic component can develop more clearly, tweaking the transparent finish and tying in neatly with the sweet sparkle of coriander. Otherwise this Snapshot flits across the tongue, gone nearly as quickly as it arrived but leaving a light and refreshing wash behind. Thus Snapshot delivers on its name: quick and carefree, ultimately disposable but sometimes still worth revisiting. It may well become the next big summer beer for those who’ve tired of 312’s ubiquity and comparative roundness. Some may lament that it could have been so much more, and they’ll be right. But not every vista calls for Ansel Adams.

Served: 12 oz bottle best by 6/15/14

Rating: 81

New Belgium – Yuzu Imperial Berliner Weisse (Lips of Faith)

BERLINER WEISSE is unusual enough that New Belgium could have brewed one perfectly to style and still tapped it for their outré Lips of Faith series. Low in alcohol, wheaty, and tinged with lactic acid, these hazy and highly effervescent beers were traditionally topped up at the table with fruit syrup or other sweet infusions to counter their sourness. But as the style has experienced a craft revival recently many brewers have chosen to ‘prepackage’ their sweeteners, creating specific flavor profiles that showcase obscure fruits as much as the beer itself. Such is the case with Yuzu.

Pouring a slightly hazy yellow, the beer has no real residual bubbles and a minimal white head. Its mouthfeel leans more towards the mean than the style’s traditional extremes: its body is light yet not bone dry and the carbonation level is elevated without being explosive. Still, it moves with an alacrity that befits its dose of lactic acid (Brett was introduced for secondary fermentation), nicely balanced between cream and lemon tang with the yuzu juice contributing tropical nuances. Partly prickly, partly sweet, the nominally citric yuzu seems more akin to the meat of a papaya than the scoured pith of grapefruit, or perhaps a hybrid of green banana and lime.

Yuzu’s ride from start to finish is swift, striking the palate immediately its core flavors while subsequent sips reveal a little wheat and faintly mineralic finish. Bitterness is virtually nil at 6 IBUs. This style traditionally had low ABVs (sub-4%) but Yuzu was imperialized to 8%. Almost none of that alcohol comes through in the finish and it’s a unclear what inspired New Belgium to elevate it so dramatically. Force of habit? Or perhaps the skeptical eye craft fans would cast on a $10 bomber with less alcohol than Bud Light. And that is a shame. However much craft fans indulge brewers’ experimentation with obscure fruits or arcane styles, the prejudice against sessionable ABVs in specialty beers is still alive and well.

Served: 750 ml bottled June 2013

Rating: 84

O’So Brewing – Winds of Change

CHANGE, IS IT? Of what sort, O’So? Take your pick: 1. Deciding to focus more on their barrel program 2. Starting to brew sour ales 3. Hiring a new head brewer. Each alone would have been a stiff breeze—all three at once seems more like a tempest. Whatever its magnitude, the first gust of these changes arrives in this Brett-soured hoppy pale ale, golden-hued with light haze, around 6% ABV and 45 IBUs. It’s a 50/50 blend: half pale ale inoculated with Brett in secondary and barrel-aged for six months, half a primary Brett fermentation that spent the same time in stainless.

The aroma is initially quite appealing, blooming creamily with Brett Brux’s lactic acid, a bit of lemon, some oaky vanilla and just enough yeasty funk to cue the mouth towards salivation. More than just a Brett beer, though, Winds of Change is also substantially hopped with West Coast cultivars, giving it some extra citric and herbal snap in both aroma and flavor. It’s also dry-hopped with German Tettnanger (a pound per barrel) to enhance its earthy bouquet.

After that promising first pass, though, Winds of Change starts to tail. Six months of aging is substantial enough for many beers but rarely suffices with wild yeasts. Brettanomyces in particular needs time to work its slow magic, paring back that off-medium body while producing more effervescence and the complex flavors that only come with patience. On the other hand, higher carbonation might have further imbalanced the bitterly herbal hops and mildly astringent oak tannins of the finish. Overall this blend is a fair idea—signifying to O’So fans that the brewers had something new in mind but weren’t about to abandon their roots—but a less heavy hand with the hops and more patience before bottling would have provided a much stronger tailwind.

Served: 750 ml bottle

Rating: 74

 

Goose Island – Sofie

SEVERAL OF GOOSE ISLAND’S Vintage Ales reveal themselves coyly, like a mademoiselle entertaining an array of suitors while committing to none. Not so Sofie. Fresh from the bottle this beer makes an unabashed statement of tropical sweet fruits that verges upon a carbonated piña colada. Thankfully, the rest of her profile proves to be more layered and over the course of a glass she earns a place alongside her sophisticated sisters. After settling into the glass, Sofie’s dense sweetness of slightly cooked pineapple and minneola oranges opens up to reveal subtler accents of green grapes and vanilla—the product of white wine barrel-aging. Meanwhile, Amarillo was used exclusively for hopping, light on bittering (20 IBUs) and relatively freely in late kettle additions to boost the pineapple in the nose. A bit of extra warmth also broadens the bouquet to introduce elements of farmhouse funk and the 6.5% ABV poking out around the edges.

Sofie’s appearance is light golden and rather clearer than anticipated for a farmhouse ale, but after the first taste this makes sense. Its wild yeasts suggest a rather fuller body than it likely has (along with bits of lemon sherbet), perhaps via lactic acid. Leaving much more lees in the bottle might have made mouthfeel too creamy.

On the palate Sofie’s distinct ingredients—fruit additions, yeast, and hops—are perfectly blended; it’s almost impossible to determine the divisions between them until the ingredients are laid out in the recipe. The malt bill is quite light (2-Row, pilsner, and wheat) and allows the yellow fruits to lead the way, as is fitting, for a strong grain presence here would have defeated its aura of a tropical vacation. Wheat remains noticeable in the texture of the finish, though, and in some light midpalate spiciness. A touch more would have given the midsection a slightly firmer character for contrast and aided in head retention (rather poor for this sample despite copious initial plumage).

There is a delicate sprinkling of wild yeast tartness and tingle in the finish, hardly distinguishable from the minerality of the water. Sofie returns to coyness here with a capricious bitterness, sometimes present just on the cusp of the swallow, sometimes entirely absent. The fruitiness remains potent throughout, though, making the beer less flexible for food pairings than Matilda. In the right circumstances (e.g. lighter seafood, soft spreads like brie and hummus, or preserve desserts) it could still be stupendous.

Altogether Sofie is another worthy effort in this exemplary series: available year-round, consistently well-made, distinctive but balanced, and always affordable. That’s also to say nothing of the trailblazing role these beers have played in reeducating Americans about beer’s potential with food. Indeed, Goose Island’s Vintage Ales are one of the best things to happen in American craft beer throughout its modern rebirth. Are we taking them for granted?

Served: 750 ml bottled Nov 5, 2013

Rating: 90

Grand Teton – Oud Bruin (Cellar Reserve 2013)

IF GRAND TETON packaged their Oud Bruin as an adult fruit spritzer it would be much more appealing: an aroma full of apple cider, rhubarb, and fresh plums, a medium body ladling on dark cherry and further taffy apple sweetness, and a slight mineral twang in the finish that primes the mouth for another sip.

Of something else. Where is the tartness? Where is the lively spritz of carbonation? The complex texture and funk of voracious wild yeasts? Where is the dry depth and lingering finish that inspire one to contemplate instead of chase? Assuredly, Grand Teton’s Oud Bruin is quite palatable and even pleasant in its way, but hardly as the East Flanders red after which it’s modeled. For all Grand Teton says of the beer’s bacterial trifecta (Brettanomyces, lactobacillus, and pediococcus) and months’-long maturation, regrettably few of those extra efforts are discernible in its plump body, uniformly sweet flavors, and one-dimensional mouthfeel. But such ales as these are often gambles, with no two batches (nor even bottles) quite the same. Perhaps the wild will-o-wisps overlooked this one? We’ll hope so.

Served: 750 ml bottle

Rating: 76

Against the Grain – We Brett It Wrong

PERHAPS WE BRETT IT WRONG’S name should have been a giveaway. Twice over, even, as it belongs to a series called ‘All Funked Up’. Based upon the “hoppy Saison” ‘We Spelt it Wrong’, Against the Grain wild-ified version was aged in Brettanomyces-riddled bourbon barrels to rather fuddling results. Brett and a little sourness define the early flavors with some little barrel notes emerging later, though without particular clarity. Saison liveliness is tamped down, along with the hops, while the base body (a blend of wheat and spelt) is further attenuated by extra sugar additions. The beer emerges more astringent and tingly than actually all that dry (at an estimated 2 Plato), and some ethyl acetate also swarms up in the finish. Rather discombobulated all in all; try again, lads.

Served: 750 ml bottle (Skyline Loft, FoBAB 2013, Chicago)

Rating: 74

Denali Brewing – Flat Stop Series #2

PILE ENOUGH funky ingredients into the same barrel and trust to fate. Alternately, make like those massive malty homebrews wherein each small defect obscures its neighbors almost ad infinitum. Denali Brewing likely deserves more credit than either of these impressions, but their Flag Stop Series #2 still feels a little slapdash for all its complexity. Brewed to the West Flanders Red style, it’s pitched with Brett, aceto, and lacto acids, aged in sour American oak barrels, and fermented at last with raspberries for good excessive measure.

The barrel-aging accentuates #2’s root beer hues and turns the raspberry tartness denser and darker. The overall impression is more akin to blackberries on the nose, though it could just be the density of other sourness and minerals in the aroma. Brett is fairly strong early on, funky though more smooth than expected through the midpalate. Then comes a wash of phenols, harsher acetic acid, and a somehow not unpleasant solventy air for a more assertive finish. A bursting head foreshadows the beer’s huge effervescence on the palate and the creamy bloom of carbonation cleverly clears out many of its smaller offending flavors. But not all of them.

Served: 750 ml bottle (Skyline Loft, FoBAB 2013, Chicago)

Rating: 84

Bell’s Brewing – Le Bretteur

AMIDST A VARIORUM of rare barrels, copious fruit additions, and arcane yeast blending (i.e. FoBAB), Bell’s Le Bretteur made a concise pitch—100% Brett fermentation in French Oak chardonnay barrels. The simplicity implies a gem of a recipe with little need for dressing up, but unfortunately Le Bretteur’s flavors are not quite the equal of its elegant trappings. A slightly cloudy yellow, the beer pours with a minimal head and gives off a slight diacetyl aroma that encroaches upon a welcoming blanket of Brett. Its body is rather light with moderate grain flavors and barrel tannins, modestly sour overall and with some few traces of its 6.3% ABV. The white grape phenols push somewhat too hard, imparting a slightly harsh quality to the dry (and otherwise refreshing) finish. Reasonably good if unspectacular. And yet it took Best in Show?

Served: On tap (Skyline Loft, FoBAB, Chicago)

Rating: 84

Great Divide – Peach Grand Cru

AGED IN WHISKY barrels, this Brett-soured blend has its base as a Belgian strong pale ale of 12% ABV. Little room for moderation in this description, but the results were less than strident. The Grand Cru pours an appealing deep honey color but with too-large bubbles in its foamy head and not enough carbonation in the body. Its aroma doesn’t offer much of the barrel aging and is instead quite sweet with peach and honeysuckle leading the way. For a sour, much less any Belgian, it is unexpectedly full-bodied with a cloying aura that impresses itself onto the back of the palate just before sipping—like hot sauce on Buffalo wings, weirdly. Some balance comes via the Brett sourness, phenols, and alcohol in the aroma, while the freshness of the peaches is quite clear from the flavor. 12% was completely unnecessary, though, and at a reported $25 per large-format bottle it is no compelling value.

Served: On tap (Skyline Loft, FoBAB 2013, Chicago)

Rating: 82