14 July, 2021

I see a yellow pils and I want it to turn black: Storm and Stress by Gathering Place Brewing Co.

 

American beer styles seem to be clearly delineated in a way that continental European styles are not. Take the American IPA for example. A NE/hazy IPA is opaque, looks like it was drained from an orange juice swamp, and tastes like Hawaiian Punch. On the other hand, a West Coast IPA is clear, the malt can be tasted, and it tastes like a Christmas tree. Black IPAs look, well, not pale, i.e. - black. And so on. All of these beers come from the same style family but the differences are rather dramatic amongst the individual styles.

But in mainland Europe, styles often have minor distinctions that separate them rather than glaringly obvious differences. In a previous entry I expressed confusion about the differences between Czech and German pilsners which apparently come down mainly to a little less or a little more malt and a little less or a little more hops. The differences are more subtle over there than here. (Please note that I am conducting some research in this area and bought some Pilsner Urquell for my experimentation.)

There's a similar confusion for me between the Dunkel and the Schwarzbier. And I suppose there are even more granular distinctions to be made between, say, the Munich Dunkel and its Franconian cousin. (I am unaware of regional variations in Schwarzbier although I don't doubt for one second that they exist.) But let's not go there because I'd get even more lost than I already am.

Ultimately, the problem is that I've never been to Germany to figure out the answer to this great mystery. More proximately is that I don't encounter much Schwarzbier brewed in Germany and, when I do, it's usually Köstritzer, although Krombacher Dark is becoming more common in these parts. Not that it is common, mind you, it's just that you see it occasionally whereas it was totally absent previously. With examples from the Heimat being a precious few, I've been weaned mostly on versions from the teat of American craft brewing.

From what I gather, a Schwarzbier is like a pils but darker. A lot darker. The name doesn't translate to "black beer" for nothin'. It has less of a bready malt flavor to it than its Dunkel cousin with some roasty tastes and medium hoppiness. In addition, it's got a lighter body and is drier than the Dunkel. This comports with my tongue's experiences drinking Spaten's Dunkel and Köstritzer's Schwarzbier. However, it doesn't match my experiences with, say, Sprecher's Black Bavarian, which they advertise as a Schwarzbier. Black Bavarian has the roasted coffee and dark chocolate flavors of a porter but with a heavier body. I do enjoy Black Bavarian quite a bit but it is far from being a dark pils.

Sprecher's Milwaukee neighbors, Gathering Place Brewing, have thrown their hat into the Schwarzbier ring with Storm and Stress - Sturm und Drang, auf Deutsch**. A brief search of the Internet gives me the impression that they've brewed it for a few years but only now am I getting around to trying it. I had a good experience with their Franconian lager, Spezial, and I am enamored of dark beers so I was looking forward to tasting Storm and Stress.


Having had a Dunkel recently which I felt was lacking in the forms that I think of a Dunkel as having, Storm and Stress started things out according to my expectations: it was black. Well, it was clear and really a very dark reddish brown but it had that Stygian gloom thing when you casually glanced at it. A small tan head came and went. It had a very pleasant aroma that was sweet at first - think plum - before some coffee and roasted grains came in.

Despite knowing better, my brain always thinks that Dunkels and Scharzbiers are going to be like motor oil because of their darkness which allows little to no light through my glass. I always have a brief moment of surprise when I drink the stuff and find that its color belies a much lighter body, like that of a pils. (There is surely a lengthy German compound word for being surprised at something you shouldn't be surprised by and it would make a fine name for a beer, whatever it is.) And so it was here. Although not particularly sweet, there was some maltiness to be had in addition to plum as well as some coffee. I could taste grassy hops underneath it all. Dark chocolate came out on the swallow. The finish was rather dry due to a nice, sturdy dose of fizz as well as the hops which took on spicy notes that let the bitterness build.

While I would have to have a Köstritzer for comparison, I think Storm and Stress is a little intense for the style. It's like you were expecting to hear Kind of Blue but the jukebox started playing Pangaea instead. That dark pils malt subtlety is missing here and was replaced with more of a porter profile. I think it'd be more to style to have less coffee flavor and more of a gentle roastiness.

Regardless of how true to style Storm and Stress is, it is a very tasty brew indeed. I really liked the plum and coffee flavors and how the beer's body remained light. The dry finish seemed to be out of the German pils playbook and made it quite refreshing on a recent hot and humid afternoon. Get it while you can.

Junk food pairing: Pair your Storm and Stress with a bag of Mrs. Fisher's Dark Chips. They're made with potatoes that have more sugar than normal so they're darker, richer, and full of melanoidin goodness.

**After drinking this beer, I listened to the In Our Time episode about the Sturm und Drang movement and learned that "Drang" really translates as urge and not stress.

2 comments:

Steve D. said...

One of the earliest factoids I learned about beer back in the mid-1980s was that the Schwarzbier style had nearly died out in Germany. But it was somehow kept alive by Japanese macro brewers like Kirin, Asahi, and Suntory.
(I can't easily dig out the tome, but I think this was in Michael Jackson's "World Guide To Beer".)

Skip said...

I believe it. It seems that most German beer style nearly died or did disappear except for pils.