In a departure from regular “Stylistically Speaking” practice, this month we will look at four American breweries making Belgian-style beers, rather than at any specific style. It occurred to us that these four breweries, three run by husband-wife partnerships, were worthy of special mention for their entrepreneurial and creative efforts.
Recall the time you were chatting up that stunner down at the pub? You’d just put that gleam in her eyes when you foolishly offered to buy her “a beer.” Whoooosh! Boom! Bite-sized insect food! About the same result you’d get if you’d asked if she wore sexy undies.
A few issues back, I wrote about some tasty blonde ale styles. This time the assignment is two authentic American styles.
Bavaria, best known for its smooth, clean, bottom-fermented lager biers, is synonymous with great brewing tradition. Golden pilsners, Munich helles, seasonal marzen and bocks, and the indigenous brew, Munich dunkel, all call Bavaria home. But there is a family of beers that runs counter to these lagers in almost every aspect: the Bavarian wheat beers.
A blonde, a blonde, I need a blonde. Being a bit particular, not just any blonde, of course, will do.
In the previous issue, we discussed oatmeal stouts and how that style has split into three sub-styles comprising the group. This type of style splitting has become commonplace. As the beer market becomes more and more international, styles are no longer bound to their country of origin.
Breaking down the broad stout style group into its individual substyles can be a bit difficult. Think of stouts as blondes–it’s in the contrast, you see. You have Catherine Deneuve (French) blondes, Claudia Schieffer (German) blondes, Pamela Anderson (Canadian) blondes, Christine Applegate as Kelly Bundy (American) blondes, Anna Kournakova (Russian) blondes, and A. A. Gill’s... View Article
The lexicon of beerspeak is rich with descriptive names. Stylistic terms can denote any number of beer characteristics, including origin (pilsner, Dortmunder), appearance (pale ale, witbier), and strength (barley wine, tripel), among others.
Nineteen-ninety-five was a bad year for cask ale. The summer’s unexpected, prolonged period of hot weather undermined all the good work of the previous five years. Following changes in legislation in 1990, which opened up the pub market to small brewers, dozens of microbreweries had thrown open their mash tuns and hundreds of exciting new... View Article
