Great Taste, More Filling: Northern Method by Potosi Brewing Company

Whenever I see the word "doppelbock" on a label my mind immediately pictures a Falstaffian monk, cheeks flushed red clutching a tankard as he takes a break from his monastic duties to have a little earthly fun. I am not sure why this is the case but it likely has something to do with the tale that the origin of the style lies with monks who brewed a heartier bock for sustenance during their fasting for Lent. (And, now that I look, it also probably has to do with Paulaner's label.)

Upon closer inspection, this doesn't seem to really have been the case although there are monks involved in the beer's history and they did do stuff like drinking beer during Lententide.

The genesis of the doppelbock dates back to 1651 and the friars of an order founded by Saint Francis of Paola. Their monastery was in suburban Munich and for the feast day in Frank's honor on 2 April they brewed a special beer which they called Sankt-Vaters-Bier (Sacred Father's Beer or something like that). This was the ur-doppelbock. The beer would be brewed for this day every year. While 2 April fell during Lent most years, sometimes it was after Easter. So there were indeed friars drinking this stuff during Lent.

As the years went by this special feast day brew became known as Salvatorbier and the brewery became Paulaner. And Paulaner exists today and their doppelbock is called Salvator. From what I've read, doppelbocks have gotten less sweet but more potent over the years. A little less liquid bread for lent and more booze to ward off the chill of late winter/spring. Regardless, doppelbocks today are generally about the malt and very sweet.

In addition to associating them with monks, I also think of doppelbocks as something consumed around Lent. But I recently spied one by Potosi called Northern Method and figured I'd give it a shot even though it was only January and Catholics were still whoopin' it up to celebrate the conversion of St. Paul.

The Potosi Brewing Company has, to the best of my knowledge, absolutely nothing to do with monasteries, ascetic lifestyles, or celibacy. Located in the southwest corner of the state within spitting distance of the Mighty Mississippi, it opened in 1852 and closed 80 years later after becoming Wisconsin's fifth largest brewery. A few decades later a non-profit group, the Potosi Foundation, raised the necessary funds to resurrect the brewery which had been donated to them. Potosi Brewing opened once again in 2008 and today the facility is also home to the National Brewery Museum which is pretty slick if you're into old beer cans, signs, and whatnot.

Northern Method, the name being a nod to the origin of the bock, is really a nice, clear reddish brown color but sitting there in that glass on the counter it had a tenebrous tint. With a creamy tan head, the beer looked, well, not imposing but like a rather heady concoction. It was ready to fortify me against the winter weather.

It smelled more or less like I thought it would – sweet like raisins and caramel but also a bit boozy and astringent. It's 8.5% A.B.V., by the way.

Raisin and caramel were also to be tasted along with a more plum-like/stone fruit flavor. I discerned a little dark chocolate as well. And, in keeping with its reputation as liquid bread, there was a bready flavor too. Some sweetness lingered on the swallow as the hops finally decided to make themselves known with a touch of spicy bitterness.

Despite being a big beer, I found Northern Method to be rather easy drinking. Malt sweetness was the order of the day but my palate never got bogged down in a cloying sludge. The beer had a medium body and I think the sweetness was prevented from running roughshod over my tongue by judicious hopping and just the right amount of carbonation.

Northern Method is a "Fall / Winter Seasonal Limited Release" and so, oddly enough, it will be leaving store shelves in February just as folks are really getting into the swing of Lent.

Junk food pairing: Christians refrained from eating meat during Lent in the Middle Ages but "meat" referred to land animals with hooves. And so, for example, beaver was perfectly acceptable. As was fish. So, head down to your local Asian grocer and buy a pack of unagipai, which are essentially eel cookies. You'll be in the clear as far as those pesky Lenten dietary restrictions go.