The heartiest forms of the style survive today as Baltic and imperial porters. These two porter progeny represent a harkening to British maritime roots as well as a Continental modification. Siblings to the more famous imperial stouts, the strong porters became templates for brewers in Scandinavia, Russia and Poland and adapted to local brewing practices and preferences. Some versions are bottom-fermented, others top, and they range from malty brown to roasty black.

Porter was initially developed as a strong, aged, hoppy version of the sweet brown ales that dominated London during the early 18^th century. The generous hop levels (making it beer rather than ale) and seasoned “stale” character offered a welcomed counterpoint to London browns. Porter was also brewed to compete with upstart pale ales. Both porter and London brown ale were made with brown, or blown, malt, cured over wood fires, a rugged, smoky product that was cheaper than pale malt.

Porter was brewed from a blend of successive mashings and was actually known as entire-butt beer, or simply “entire,” for the first few decades of its existence, “butt” being the 108-gallon cask used for storage. The maturation period of several months to a full year tamed the rough, smoky edge, but also unleashed the wild vinous and tart flavors from the wooden butts and their native microflora.

Entire became the beer of choice for the laboring class and acquired the slang “porter,” as it was so favored by the street and dock workers known by that name, many of whom loaded ships destined for Indian, Australian and Baltic ports. The hops and requisite beneficial aging ensured that it would arrive shipshape.

The Baltic fleets visited numerous ports along the coastal bays and inlets, many of which had established routes inland. This voyage may have been advantageous to the beer, as the conditions were cold and the duration relatively short, resulting in what was essentially a congenial period of cool, cellarlike conditioning. Baltic markets were particularly fond of the strongest porters (stout porter) and in return, would send oak for vessels and isinglass for finings back to Britain. The two materials were essential for production of fine ale, porter and stout.

The Russians concluded that it was nigh impossible to brew porter or stout without water from the River Thames, so the import of those brews was deemed critical. The empress herself insisted on a sustained supply for her and her court. Even when the Russian government imposed a tariff on nearly all British commodities in 1822, porter and stout were exempt, keeping the empress happy.

The brewing industry back in Britain was as robust and far-reaching as ever, especially for those who included these “imperial” dark beers among their offerings. Since the newly invented (1817) and patented black malt was still not in wide use, nor wholly embraced by London brewers, these dark beers were mostly brewed with copious proportions of brown malt.

“Imperial” also came into common usage as a means to designate a brewer’s strongest beer rather than something specifically made for the Russian court. Imperial stout, imperial stout porter, imperial London stout and imperial brown porter were a few of the descriptive names that brewers gave their products in advertisements. The extra designation of “Russian” was routinely attached in the early 20^th century to market these creations.

The beers came from Yorkshire, Scotland, Burton (in Staffordshire) and Dublin, but London unequivocally had the best brewers for these because of experience, conditions and raw materials, especially Thames water. By the mid-19^th century, roasted barley became a fairly common ingredient and helped create the pedigree for subsequent porters and stouts. Baltic, and especially imperial, porters would not be themselves today without noticeable additions of roast.

All of this explains how the Baltic regions fell in love with the strong porters and stouts of the 18^th and 19^th centuries, but doesn’t account for the actual brewing of porter in those regions. There were many breweries already in place: from Scandinavia, around the Baltic Russian rim and into Eastern Europe, many of which were poised to cash in on the love for porter.

The conditions were certainly different, being decidedly colder in northern and eastern environs, as were the brewing techniques, being heavily influenced by German bottom fermentation, especially on the Continent. This is where the Baltic style of porter really began to take shape.

Centuries of brewing in different regions of Europe meant that the yeast was selected over time to match the conditions of the brewery. Scandinavian yeast was different from that in Britain, which was different again from that of Estonia and Poland. Continental barley varieties differed from the British maritime cultivars, as did the malt, tailored specifically for the regional styles there.

The first Baltic brewery to specialize in porter was opened by Nikolai Sinebrychoff in Helsinki, Finland, in 1819. Its excellent porter is still made today, a remnant of the English imperial version with loads of roasted character and a base of kilned lager malts and German and Czech hops.

The Le Coq brewery was also opened in the early part of that century, in Tartu, in what is now Estonia. That site was selected because the water was deemed an excellent substitute for Thames water, the single most elusive and essential ingredient. Its beer relied even less on black or roasted barley, and tended to feature the toasty kilned malts favored by German and Austrian brewers. Those are also bottom-fermented and fully lagered, making for a rounded, bocklike profile.

Coincidentally, the early to mid-19^th century was the period in which bottom fermentation and lagering were becoming the norm, as was the fine-tuning of malt production and scientific brewing techniques. This made for a perfect storm in the development of Baltic porter.

In the United States, brewers make the British- and Continental-inspired versions and will generally designate them as imperial or Baltic porters. Generally speaking of European versions, Scandinavian porters resemble those of London imperial pedigree, with a firm roasted presence and top fermentation, while those brewing to the east and south (Estonia, Lithuania and Poland) are similar to the über-malty doppelbocks, with a touch of roast and bottom fermentation. All are roughly 7 to 9.5 percent ABV, with modest to minimal hop presence.

Baltic porters tend to be the tamer of the two styles, but are uncompromisingly deep. They are a brilliant composite of English brewing tradition, intrepid commercial savvy and regional, stylistic metamorphosis. Much of the complexity comes from use of Continental malts such as the kilned Munich or Vienna types for that malty base, as well as dark character malts that contribute notes of raisin, molasses, caramel and licorice. The reserved measure of roasted barley lends a deep reddish-black color as the norm.

Imperial porters rely on a heavier dose of roasted barley or black malt. Fermentation byproducts are usually somewhat muted, without much estery character, a result of subdued fermentation temperature and yeast selection. It is a perfect strategy to showcase the roasty notes and other contributions from dark malts such as the raisin, molasses and licorice highlights.

Porter may not be as highly regarded as stout, but remember that once it was truly the king of the beer world. And at the very top of the heap are the imperial and Baltic porters, beer that will make anyone feel like royalty.

Imperial Roots

The mighty British beer exporters of the 18th century are famous for “inventing” the global India pale ale. Truth be known, porter was also shipped to the tropics. These visions of ships boldly navigating treacherous maritime conditions to exotic ports over several months with cargo eagerly anticipated by thirsty legions of expatriates craving casks of perfectly matured ale are romantic indeed. Many of those brewers also shipped their wares closer to home, with one coveted market to the east in Scandinavia, Russia and Eastern Europe. People of these cool regions preferred the darker, sweeter beers of London and Burton to the dry and hoppy IPA, favored in the subcontinent. Strong renditions of porter and stout were a natural for these northern markets. The relatively short, tempered trip left the product much like that which left port in England. The cold waters provided optimal conditions below deck, a smoothing, lagering period of sorts. And, unlike India, the climate afforded relatively long storage times once delivered. Bottom-fermentation and cold-conditioning were the norm here, influenced by brewing pioneers in Bohemia, Austria, Germany and Denmark. Logically, these imported beers were eventually made locally, which in turn changed the style from London/Burton beer to lager-inspired Baltic porter. Naturally, local hops and malt were used, defining the Baltic style, and further separating it from its English ancestors.

This Baltic Porter pours a deep brown with burgundy highlights. Some said it had the color of Coca Cola, even smelled like it. The nose had hints of dried fruit, a bit of prune, like a fruitcake in a glass. A caramel, nutty malt backbone and a medium body made this a smooth, quaffable winter seasonal that possesses a slight espresso kick to it.

Scott Smith, sales director of Foothills Brewing, holding a bottle of their Baltic Porter

Lots going on in the beer community today in North Carolina. It’s the five year anniversary of Pop The Cap, which lifted the ban on beer over 6 percent in the state. Foothills Brewing is marking this date in history with the limited bottle release of their Baltic Porter, one of the brewery’s high acclaimed beers. The beer is available at the brewery in Winston-Salem and well as Sam’s Quik Shop in Durham. Later today, Fullsteam will celebrate their grand opening of their tasting room. A private party starts at 4pm followed by the public opening at 6:14 – the average time for beer o-clock in England and the name of their mild beer from their Workers’ Compensation Series of beers which also includes Rocket Science IPA and El Toro Cream Ale.

In the Porter category we were treated to a handful of excellent examples. Upland Brewing gave us Bad Elmer’s Porter (87 points), Williams Bros. Brewing Co. their Midnight Sun Porter (91 points), and Samuel Smith’s Old Brewery, the Taddy Porter (91 points). Many may reach for some roasted or grilled meat to pair with these, something I would recommend. However, I recently saw some seared scallops on a menu and thought they may work with the caramelized flavors of the porters as well. If you are a fan of these naturally sweet delicacies from the sea, give it a go.

In the flavored porter category, we sampled a plethora of unique flavors infused into these dark ales. Smoke from the Issaquah Brewhouse Smoked Frog Porter (94 points), a great one to pair with some BBQ to keep the fires burning. To experience and little more dynamic flavor lineup, pair this smoky brew with a bowl of gumbo rich with sausages. Deep vanilla and cocoa flavors from Breckenridge Vanilla Porter (89 points) would make a great beer float to wash down the BBQ or gumbo. Lastly, a unique brew from North Peak Brewing Co.: Honey Mint Porter (84 points) had subtle notes of chocolate and mint. I didn’t really think it was going to work; surprisingly, it did, in a Willy Wonka kind of way!

In the Dry Stout category, the Jopen Extra Stout stood out (91 points), a powerful stout for the style, but none the less a great stout with depth and complexity. If you ever see this one on the shelves, do not pass it up! Bring that bad boy home and enjoy with rich nutty cheese or some chocolate truffles. Speaking of truffles, another must-try is Brewery Ommegang Chocolate Indulgence Stout (92 points). Liquid dessert: ‘nuff said. Also in the Flavored Stout Category, Wells & Young’s Brewing Co. sent their Double Chocolate Stout (89 points), familiar to many from its days at Young’s brewery in London, another dessert beer and still dry enough to session with for a few rounds. New to the WBC was Harmon Brewing Co. who sent in their Swashbuckler Stout (92 points). This fine brew was aged in rum casks and would make a perfect compliment to a fine cigar.

Last round and it’s the Imperial Stouts, a personal favorite, with soul-warming goodness to help one through the doldrums of the long Midwest winter. Liquid warmth is what I call these rich beauties. Must-try’s from the tasting include Bastone Brewery’s The Midnight Oil Imperial Stout (90 points), Oskar Blues Ten Fidy Imperial Stout (92 points), and Ryan Sullivan’s Imperial Stout (94 points) from Moylan’s, and one that is definitely a pick for the cellar, Goose Island’s 2008 Bourbon County Brand Stout (97 points). The last is a true collectible and will cellar wonderfully for quite some time, as long as it is kept in proper conditions. Although these bold stouts are meals in themselves, I love to have a little cheese to nibble on while savoring the deep roasted flavors. For some contrast, try a blue-veined cheese like Stilton or Maytag Blue. For some complementing flavors, nutty and rich aged Gouda is a good pick as well. Feeling decadent? Go ahead and have some chocolate confection of your choice with any of these fine ales.

In conclusion, the tasting was a welcome break from the dark of winter, and quite an experience of quality and creative ales. Thanks to the brewers for brewing and thanks to the World Beer Championships for a unique and inspiring event. Cheers!

Germanic wheat beers were once widespread and survive today. But the greatest influence from the mid-19th century came not from an invader but from neighboring Bohemia, now the modern Czech Republic. The brewing revolution that started in Pilsen and produced the first golden lager beer was soon manifest in Poland. Breweries that had been built on hills in the mountainous Tatra region were found to be ideal for digging deep, cold cellars in which the new-style pilsner beer could be stored or lagered for several months.

But Poland also had a Monty Python moment. At the same time as pilsner beer was changing the methods of brewing, something completely different was making an appearance in the Baltic states. The British were no slouches where empire was concerned, but their only involvement in the east was to export substantial quantities of a potent black beer called Baltic porter. It is a wonderful irony of brewing history that, just as golden lager began to transform brewing practice in central and eastern Europe, a beer that broke all the new rules by using warm fermentation and dark, roasted malts also put down deep roots in those countries.

A Brewing Aristocrat

For centuries, brewing in Poland had been a small-scale operation run either by farmers or town councils and strictly controlled by the church or local dukes. In the 19th century, a definable commercial brewing industry began to develop due in the main to the enormous power of the ruling Habsburg dynasty that ran the Austro-Hungarian empire.

One of the key participants in the new brewing industry of that period was Archduke Albrecht Friedrich von Habsburg. He inherited vast swathes of land in Galicia and Silesia and was encouraged by his father to go into brewing on the grounds that “if you own land and make beer, my son, you can’t go wrong.” The archduke’s first brewery was built in 1846 high above the small town of Cieszyn in the Silesia region, a stone’s throw from the Czech border. It was a fortuitous choice. for Cieszyn had a steelworks and there were many thirsty throats to refresh.

In the manner of aristocrats in the German-speaking countries of Bavaria and Austria, the archduke at first made wheat beer at Cieszyn, but he switched to cold fermentation when pilsen burst on the brewing scene in the 1840s. As a result of the brewery’s dominant position above the town, it was a comparatively simple matter to dig deep lager cellars for cold-fermented beer.

The archduke’s brewery prospered and within five years he summoned the best engineers and water experts to join him for an expedition into the forests of the Zywiec [zhiv-y-etz] region of Galicia to find a spring that could supply pure water for a bigger brewery than Cieszyn. A suitable site was found and a local priest blessed the plot. Within weeks, the plant was under construction and in 1856 the new Archducal Brewery of Zywiec was registered with the Austrian authorities. It used all the new technologies of the industrial age, with lager beer stored for between three and eight months in deep cellars cooled by rooms above that were packed with ice cut from rivers and lakes in winter.

Lesser known among these imperialized brews are the Baltic porters. Fortified porter rode along with its more famous, formidable sibling, stout, into Scandinavia, Russia and Eastern Europe. The increased strength and soothing dark malt was a perfect match for the northern climate, serendipitously popularizing porter and creating a future local market. Baltic porter then evolved further, leaving its British ale roots behind in many cases, as Baltic brewers made their own versions using the prevailing bottom-fermentation and lagering methods. The expatriated brews were still dark and strong, but often came to resemble the strong lagerbiers of Germany.

Baltic porter is undergoing something of a rebirth today, as there is a trend to imperialize many beer styles. Some are brewed to approximate the original British ales, while others are true to the Baltic lager construct.

Publican Porter

Along with the isolation and characterization of yeast, the evolution of porter as a style is one of the most compelling and important stories of modern brewing. Baltic porter, almost uniquely, is a wonderful consummation of both events.

Porter of 300 years ago was a blend of beers, combined artfully by private publicans before serving. The task of blending shifted to savvy brewers, the mixture then sold to pubs. The Industrial Age ushered in breweries able to produce massive quantities of beer, essentially flooding Great Britain with the brown brew known as porter.

Strong porters became known as “stout porter,” thanks to Guinness, and later simply as “stout.” They developed side-by-side with porter as distinct beers and later diverged as malting technology allowed brewers to tailor recipes with pale, roasted, black and caramelized malt in the early 19th century, eliminating the blending altogether. Even though paler beers were becoming more popular than porter and stout, the latter styles held on partly due to their appeal in other markets. As England was a powerful maritime merchandiser, export across the cold northern latitudes was easily facilitated.

ExPorter

By the late 18th century, England began exporting its renowned pale ale to India to quench the thirst and keep up the spirits of their troops. Famously known as India pale ale, it was brewed to a higher strength, attenuation and hop bitterness to withstand the trip and prevent spoilage.

Similarly, fortified porters and stouts were shipped to allies in the east. While not a long journey into the Baltic Sea, it is rather treacherous, sprinkled with hundreds of rocky islands and snug straits. The careful journey, made for the purpose of commerce, allowed access to innumerable beer-loving ports along the way in Denmark, Germany, Poland, Norway, Sweden, Finland and Western Russia.

No doubt this was a much less detrimental trip to the beer than the one taken to India, as the water was cold and the duration relatively short. The methodical trip may have taken weeks nonetheless, inadvertently resulting in a smooth, essentially cold-conditioned beer once it reached its eastern-most destinations. Coincidentally, this was at a period when lager brewing was becoming more common throughout Europe at large, given the influence of Germany and Bohemia.

The voyage also included intimate contact with the port city Copenhagen, gateway to the Baltic region, and home of the Carlsberg lager brewery, whose owners and brewers essentially invented brewing science. Owner Jacob Christian Jacobsen procured a lager yeast in Vienna, and employed it at his brewery in the mid-1800s. In 1883, Emil Hansen, a scientist working at Carlsberg isolated a single cell of the strain that became known as Saccharomyces carlsbergensis, a name that is still used collectively for lager yeast. This brush with Copenhagen may not have directly or immediately influenced the future of England’s strong exported porters, but nevertheless was a symbolic foreshadowing of their evolution.