St. Patrick's Day brew

While I didn't make corned beef and cabbage yesterday and instead cooked up some jerk chicken, I did have an Irish-style beer. Tasty stuff. Not too sweet, nice hoppiness.

A Pre-St. Patrick's Day treat

I am unsure what defines an Irish ale but this one from Great Lakes Brewing is rather tasty. Nice hoppy flavor to counter that caramel sweetness.

What's In a Beer Name Anyway?

I recently came across the new label design for Great Lakes Brewing Company's Edmund Fitzgerald Porter. In contrast to the previous one, the picture looks more foreboding, more perilous, which it certainly was for the ship and its crew on that day in 1975 when it sank. Regardless of the label's exact appearance, I have always appreciated the Great Lakes/Upper Midwestern reference. Our world is becoming increasingly homogeneous and I appreciate things that are local and idiosyncratic - reflective of the place from which they originate, even if it's something simple like a beer name or label. Those of us in the middle of the country do not need to follow each and every trend from the coasts.

Great Lakes Brewing took a regional outlook when naming their porter. The Edmund Fitzgerald went down in Lake Superior in either Michigan or Canadian waters, I cannot recall which, not in Lake Erie on Cleveland's north side. Nonetheless, seeing the label got me thinking about beer labels that celebrate place, that do a little something to illustrate the ortgeist of the brewery's community. 

I suspect that I initially noticed this kind of thing several years ago with Goose Island before they were absorbed by the A-B InBev Borg. They offered 312 Urban Wheat and Green Line Pale Ale.

312 is the area code for downtown Chicago while Green Line is one of the L train lines which apparently ran near the original Goose Island location. 

As for Wisconsin labels, it seems that many a brewery draws on imagery from the state. Northwoods Brewpub has, for example, Wall-I-PA named after the fish popular in northern parts of the state, although it is found in the northern part of the U.S. generally. New Glarus has the ubiquitous Spotted Cow, Back 40, Uff Da, and probably others. However, I don't believe New Glarus has ever had a beer named after something or someone from New Glarus and I am unaware of any Northwoods brews that owe their names to Osseo or its previous home, Eau Claire. Of breweries that take that kind of hyperlocal naming to heart, Milwaukee Brewing Company is first to my mind. Well, perhaps not their labels exclusively, but also their packaging.

For instance there was Increase Wheat.

It was named after Increase Lapham who moved to Milwaukee in 1836 and cataloged the plants in the area and the shells he found on the shores of Lake Michigan. He founded the Wisconsin Natural History Association and was Chief Geologist of the State of Wisconsin for a time.

Another one of their beers that comes readily to mind is their milk stout, Polish Moon, which is the nickname of the Allen-Bradley clock tower on Milwaukee's south side which was heavily Polish.

More recently the design for MKE IPA feature the "People's Flag of Milwaukee", presumably a response to the city's official flag which is rather busy and gaudy.

Also from Milwaukee is Lakefront's Eastside Dark which features the gothic stylings of the North Point Water Tower.

A bit west of Milwaukee in Lake Mills is the Tyranena Brewing Company. They do a good job of reflecting Wisconsin in their beer names and labels. But they also aren't afraid to showcase the Lake Mills area. For instance, there was Stone Teepee Pale Ale whose label featured the supposed stone pyramids in Rock Lake which is on the west side of town.

The Madison area doesn't seem to exactly have a surfeit of beers with names that relate to it. We do, however, have Ale Asylum's Madtown Nut Brown.

Now why Burke and Hare seem to be on the label is beyond me. Or is there some Madison lore depicted on it of which I am unaware?

Wisconsin Brewing has Badger Club, which is named after the official state animal, and Boom Run, a nod to the lumber industry - up north. Capital Brewery has Supper Club in honor of the state's unique culinary establishment.

On the other hand, Great Dane's German Pils was, I believe, once known as Verrückte Stadt, i.e. - Mad Town. Peck's Pilsner is named after the proprietor of Madison's first public house, Rosaline Peck. Rockhound Brewing (R.I.P.) had Greenbush Pale Ale, named after the neighborhood they resided in.

The Madison area's four lakes, State Street, the "lost city" of Lake Forest, flamingos, Frank Lloyd Wright**, the Capitol, et al provide plenty of fodder for beer monikers. But Madison area breweries generally eschew the local when it comes to beer names and labeling. Or is there some kind of Babcock beer with lactose that I've simply never seen? A hibiscus brew with pink flamingos on the label that has escaped me? Am I completely missing beer upon beer named after local places and people?

**My understanding is that Madison's House of Brews (R.I.P.) tried to use something FLW-related in a beer name and discovered his family was not keen on this.

It Wears the Color of the Summer Soldier: Grandes Lagos by Great Lakes Brewing Company

It wasn't that long ago that I was enjoying a hibiscus beer and now here comes along another one.

Beers made with the tropical flower aren't exactly ubiquitous but they're not rarities that come around as often as Halley's Comet either. Here in the Madison area we've got Vintage's Hibiscus Saison that heralds the arrival of warmer weather every spring; starting this year Revolution's Rosa now also heralds that meteorological change for we Cheeseheads. 5 Rabbit's Huitzi features the flower as does Milwaukee Brewing's Weekend @ Louie's. And surely there are other examples from breweries farther afield some of which surely distribute here. Ooh! Widmer Brothers' Marionberry Hibiscus Gose. Can't forget that.

The latest hibiscus brew to come to my attention is Great Lakes Brewing's Grandes Lagos, a Mexican lager that spent some quality time with the tasty flower. It's a spring seasonal that I believe was introduced last year but only on draught so now folks farther afield can enjoy it.

To be honest, I don't know what a Mexican lager is. Lakefront introduced one this year called El Wisco so perhaps this is something of a trend. With novelty being so highly coveted by the American microbrewing scene, every style will surely get 15 minutes of fame. After some limited investigation, my hypothesis is that a Mexican lager from an American microbrewer is a pale lager made with maize and generally given a name that begins with "El" or ends in "-ito" for that extra touch of authenticity.

Grandes Lagos (i.e. - Great Lakes), like the last hibiscus beer I had defied my expectations and wasn't pink. Rather it was more of a pinkish orange and quite clear. Nothing much to report as far as the head goes. Small, white, and off like a prom dress. However, the brew was fairly effervescent with a decent number of bubbles inside. All in all, a pretty beer.

My nose caught some popcorn, biscuit, and of course that lovely floral scent of the hibiscus.

I suppose the point of a craft Mexican lager is that it helps you beat the heat by being light and refreshing. Grandes Lagos certainly is that with its light body, firm fizz, and solid crispness. None of the flavor here were particularly strong – there was a little corn to be tasted alongside a mild maltiness The hibiscus was complementary and not overpowering. It had a bright floral taste plus some tartness which went well with a mild grassy hop flavor.

The floral tartness remained after the beer had gone down my gullet and it was joined by a little spicy hoppiness which was moderately bitter. Just enough to conjure a pleasant dryness. Not much lacing – just an occasional spot or two.

Endowed with that essential aestival trifecta of being light, fizzy, and crisp, Grandes Lagos is made for the dogs days of summer. The corn and malt are pretty mild (but not too weak) so, while they are always there in the background, it's the tasty hibiscus that shines. I love their floral flavor and the gentle tartness they bring.

Junk food pairing: Stick with lighter fare for Grandes Lagos. Try a bag of guacamole flavored potato chips or some white cheddar popcorn.

A Scandalously Good Bohemian: Turntable Pils by Great Lakes Brewing Company

Today I am pleased to present another guest beer review here at Fearful Symmetries and it was written by Sherlock Holmes' friend and chronicler, Dr. John Watson. He generously took time out from his busy schedule to pen this post.



To me it is always the beer...

It was a fine spring morning when I called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes. He had only the previous day concluded a matter of the highest importance to the crown by lending his able assistance to Scotland Yard. Yet he was restless. A man of boundless energy, Holmes required at all times to be engaged in some manner, however small, of exercising his formidable intellect.

Perhaps because Holmes had refrained from cocaine, I was able to cajole him into trading some cultural badinage hoping all the while he would find some time away from ridding London of its criminal underworld agreeable. The moment of lightheartedness proved fleeting as there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Mrs. Hudson! Please do answer the door," Holmes said.

Both Holmes and myself expected the beleagured visage of Inspector Lestrade to appear before us but the light footfalls on the steps betrayed a guest of the fairer sex. A few moments later Mrs. Hudson escorted a beautiful young woman into the sitting room.

"Good day, madam. I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend Dr. Watson. Do come in. How may we be of service?" Holmes inquired.

The sylph-like woman sat down uneasily. Distress hung upon her narrow face, her piercing blue eyes gazing listly at the floor. After a brief pause in which she regained her composure, she sat up straight and introduced herself as Miriam Rutherford.

Miss Rutherford proceeded to relate the woeful tale of her brother Michael who resided in Cringleford, Norfolk. Mr. Rutherford was something of a rake and was carelessly spending the inheritance that both he and Miss Rutherford were to have shared...but this tale of the Adventure of the Cringleford Sybarite is to be told another day. Instead I want to relate a more pedestrian story.

After Holmes' initial investigation into the Rutherford family revealed a much grander mystery than we had anticipated, we ventured to the unfriendly confines of the Diogenes Club where Holmes sought to call upon his brother, Mycroft. Upon arrival we were escorted to the Stranger's Room to await the elder Holmes' arrival. It was a short wait and the Holmes siblings immediately began exchanging their usual insults and bon mots.

It was during this verbal duel that I looked away and noticed a nearby table against the wall. The table itself was nondescript and was home to a smattering of expected accoutrement: a gasogene, a bottle of very expensive claret, and sundry glasses. But I also espied a bottle tucked into a bucket of ice which was unfamiliar to me. I felt a bit parched and so, as the Holmeses sparred, I quietly took my leave to investigate the potential quenching of my thirst. It turned out to be a Czech pilsner beer from the Great Lakes Brewing Company of Cleveland, Ohio, in the United States.

On the label was a drawing of the platter of one of the new Victrola sound reproducing devices along with the name Turntable Pils. What this had to do with beer escaped me. But the Bohemians had gained a stellar reputation for their pale beers since 1842 when a brewer in the town of Plzeň conjured the first pilsner from his brewing tanks. Being thirsty and with time to spare, I hastily decided to sample the brew. I furtively glanced about the room to make sure no one was watching and then proceeded to decant the beer into a tall, slender, and tapered yet still capacious glass that sat next to the bucket of ice.

The beer was a thing of beauty to behold. It was dark straw in color and crystal clear. The tall glass highlighted the copious bubbles inside that were making their way up to the creamy white head that sat atop the splendid liquid.

I perched my nose over the glass and inhaled deeply. It was almost overwhelmed by a lovely, sprightly scent. The malts in the beer smelled slightly of bread but mostly of more delicate cracker. On the other hand, the hops gave a spicy and somewhat peppery aroma. Later I would learn that the beer had been brewed using Sterling hops, an American hybrid variety that claims parentage from the Czech Saaz hop plant, amongst others. Could this perhaps have been the fruit of Luther Burbank's labors?

The taste was no less elegant than the tantalizing aroma. I immediately felt the presence of those bubbles that I had seen in the glass upon my tongue. That graceful straw color translated into soft biscuity flavors with just a hint of sweetness derived from the grains. Obviously this lagering process that is so very popular on the Continent produces a nice, clean flavor. The aforementioned Sterling hops rendered a firm herbal flavor along with attendant bitterness.

After swallowing each sip, I noted that the malt flavors quickly succumbed to a sharp hop taste, the herbal component of which was joined by an invigorating spiciness not unlike black pepper. More bitterness ensued. From the beer, I mean, not the Holmes brothers whom I had all but forgotten as I refreshed myself. Just as the glass looked lovely with the newly-poured beer, so too did it appear after I had consumed the splendid drink. Streaks of foam lined the glass' interior along with large patches.

What a felicitous discovery! This Turntable Pils was most refreshing with its light body and lively effervescence. The cracker and biscuit aroma and flavor, respectively, were most agreeable to my palate. And the alternating herbal and spicy flavors of the hops stood in stark contrast to the flavors of the grain adding balance and a brisk kick, if I do say so.

Junk food pairing: Although I was without food while stranded at the Diogenes Club, I could have murdered a bag of Worcestershire sauce potato chips.