A Fresh Approach
Little historical evidence exists to suggest that fresh hops were used much at harvest time, but in places like Žatec, Hallertau and Kent this must have been the case, as much brewing was done at this time of year.
Ignoring the seeming lack of precedent, Sierra Nevada introduced Harvest Ale in 1996, an innovative effort using wet hops―those that went straight from bine to wort. A rousing success, Harvest Ale became a seasonal. It is now known as Northern Hemisphere Harvest Ale. Cascade and Centennial hops are delivered directly from growers in the Yakima Valley of eastern Washington the day they are picked. This pioneering method caught on despite the cumbersome logistics and coordination between hop grower and brewer, with harvest, delivery and brewing all done within 24 hours. In time, those hurdles were overcome, and today there possibly a few hundred wet hop ales brewed across America.
Lucky are they who have easy access to freshly harvested hops, but proximity is of little deterrence to those inclined to brew such a beer. Some brewers have them flown in overnight to meet the de facto 24-hour timeline. Others use hops grown on their own turf, Sierra Nevada Estate and Weyerbacher Harvest Ale among them. Harpoon Glacier Harvest is made with Glacier hops grown in upstate New York. Founders Harvest Ale uses Pacific Northwest hops, but also a “smattering” of locally grown hops. Chatoe Rogue Wet Hop Ale is made with five different “first growth” hop varieties (Freedom, Revolution, Independent, Rebel and Liberty) homegrown on the Rogue Micro Hopyard in Independence, OR. Left Hand has Warrior and Cascade hops from Rising Sun Farms in Paonia, CO, delivered fresh to their kettle for Warrior IPA.
Clearly, timing is the only rule governing their use of the term “wet” or “fresh” hop ale, and you can bet that many of the deliveries are consummated during the brew session. In fitting demonstration of the brewer’s art, Yakima is home to the Fresh Hop Ale Festival every year on the first Saturday in October, only a few weeks from trellis to pint, smack in the epicenter of American hop country. The Hood River Hops Festival in Oregon pays similar homage.
What then, about the beers? In short, they are primarily modeled on the pale ale or IPA style, and known variously as wet hop, fresh hop or harvest ales. Grain bills are kept simple, keeping with the pale ale/IPA theme, to showcase the hops in pristine condition. They range roughly from 5 to 7 percent ABV, with IBU ratings from 35 to 70, and from modestly to aggressively hopped. To effectively capture the mercurial aromatics, post-boil, hopback and dry-hop implementation ensures that heat will have little deleterious influence on the fleeting, volatile compounds.
Wet hops present many of the notes we have become familiar with, albeit softer and more subtly, with less pungency. There is also a genuine effect on hop flavor. The variety used is quite diverse, creating a kaleidoscopic array of ales, making it impossible to give an encompassing description of them. The fresh, green, bright and vegetative character marries farmers’ market and artisanal brewer, virtual hops in a pint.
Chipper as wet hop ales are, they welcome some breathing room. They are at their ambrosial peak in October, but can hold their own into the winter months. Commonly bottled, they are excellent on draft and sublime on cask. It requires a system-busting fivefold measure of wet hops to get an effect commensurate with dried hops. This, coupled with the trouble that it takes to get them proves once again that brewers will spare no effort to charm the consumer, push the boundaries, and embrace the fellowship among their commercial brethren.
By the time you read this column wet hop ales may well have vanished, so be on the lookout next fall. Armed with this information, it should make any hop devotee long for autumn, when the kettles overflow and the brews burst with ripe, resinous hops―perfume of the Gods. Ceres herself must be proud.
