The imperial pilsner is having a micro-moment, it seems.
New Glarus recently released one and now Lake Louie has their own take.
A bit less potent than New Glarus', a rich, biscuity malt foundation sounds tasty.
The imperial pilsner is having a micro-moment, it seems.
New Glarus recently released one and now Lake Louie has their own take.
A bit less potent than New Glarus', a rich, biscuity malt foundation sounds tasty.
Upon hearing that New Glarus was to release an imperial pilsner, my mind immediately said, "I've had one of those before!" and I recalled thinking that the ostensible pils was really just a helles bock given an "imperial" moniker for marketing cachet. Wasn't it from 3 Floyds? Then I recalled that Point had brewed one for their Whole Hog series but I never reviewed it. Going back through my blog, I realized it was, in fact, an imperial helles from Southern Tier that seemed to me better described as a helles bock.
I also discovered that Lakefront brewed an imperial pilsner as the 9th entry in their My Turn series, Pilo. Furthermore, Chicago's 5 Rabbit Cervecería brewed one as well called Super Pils. (R.I.P. 5 Rabbit.)
New Glarus' brewmaster, Dan Carey, discussed the beer on the latest episode of New Glarus Brewing Podcast W/Dan Carey which I listened to with great interest and, by the time it came for me to sample one, I had forgotten everything he said about it except that it wasn't a big version of their regular strength pilsner, Pilsner. The label doesn't say what variety pilsener this is an imperial take on, though. It does say, however, that there are German and Czech malts in the recipe along with a trio of German hops: Diamant, Hersbrucker, and Spalt.
While I still feel that imperial pilsners are just helles bocks trying to get above their raisin', I chose this brew over New Glarus' other new beer, Tailwagger, as it is spring, the season for pale bocks.
Imperial Pilsner is of a slightly darker yellow than your typical German pils yet not quite the golden color of a helles bock. There was a smattering of bubbles inside that floated up to the big head of pure white foam. The aroma was very pilsnery with cracker, bread, and hay/grass to be had.
My first sip had a medium dose of fizz to it and revealed a medium-heavy body, the first real sign of the imperial here. That variety of grains in the recipe yielded a rich bready flavor (after decoction) [Mmm...decoction...] along with some honeyed malt sweetness. My tongue was pleased to also taste a bit more than enough grassy-herbal hops to balance out the big malty taste. The bready sweetness lingered on the finish for a bit until the hops, having taken on a spicier flavor, really dried things out and gave a firm dose of bitterness.
My sampling began with Imperial Pilsner right out of the refrigerator. At the nice cold temperature, sweetness was moderated and this stuff went down easily, not unlike a regular pils. As the liquid warmed, the honeyed sweetness became stronger and the beer became more bock-like. I scrambled to down the stuff before it became cloying and soon enough I had an empty glass before me as my head buzzed. I also found that I was a bit peckish.
I suppose that it was the extra hops that gave this brew a pilsner quality to distinguish it from a run of the mill helles doppelbock and I really appreciated the extra bitterness they gave to the cause to counter all that malt and the very dry finish. And that bready malt flavor was simply savory and delicious.
Imperial Pilsner is a fine spring beer but go easy on it and/or share your can with a friend or loved one.
Junk food pairing: Pair your Imperial Pilsner with a bag of Herr's Carolina Reaper Cheese Curls. Actually, with this beer's potency, get multiple bags. They have a rich cheesy taste and the chili dust adds a firm, though not deadly, heat to complement the hearty hops.
I had my first Winter Skål of the season a couple days ago.
While I wish it were a bit less sweet, I still loved it. There's a great toastiness to the caramel flavor. And is it me or is it hoppier this season? It tasted like more than 17 IBU's with a sharp Noble spiciness.
I stopped in at the Fitchburg Hop Haus outpost earlier this week and was surprised at just how many IPAs they had on offer. Add in other styles with trendy hops or with genuine fruit and the beer menu was bloated with sweet flavors. I jumped on the tropical bandwagon and went with their New Zealand pilsner which featured Nectaron hops, a variety with which I was unfamiliar.
With a strong pineapple taste, there was no way I could drink more than one but it wasn't bad. The pilsner part tasted pretty good, from what I could tell.
Last year I stopped in at Goldfinger Brewing Co. on a chilly night looking for a palate cleanser after a chance encounter with some pickle beer. We found that their House and Vienna lagers were superlative and wonderful showcases for the power of a fully armed and operational decoction brewhouse.
While Downers Grove, Illinois is a long way from Poland, the brewery's owner and brewmaster, Thomas Beckmann, is a descendant of one Markus Goldfinger who started a mini-brewing empire in Krakow, Poland back in the 19th century so the fellow has the art/business in his veins. Beckmann looks to pay tribute to his ancestors by crafting lagers using time-honored methods such as decoction. He may also use horizontal lagering tanks (I thought so but cannot recall), which are apparently the bee's knees when it comes to vessels where your beer can slumber at 30 some-odd degrees for a while.
Polish beer seems to largely consist of an array of pale lagers dotted with some Baltic porters. However, I do see some of their brews that are made with honey for a local touch and have also heard tell of Baltic Porters brewed with smoked plums which sounds simply delightful. Plus, there's the grodziskie, which is absolutely delicious.
Into this cozy, shall we say, milieu of Polish brews Beckmann has made his own contribution - a series of Polish pilsners that showcase blends of Polish hops. I snagged a pack of the latest entry last month during my annual autumn pilgrimage to Binny's. This is #3 in the series and features Lubelski and Princely (Ksiażęcy) hops. I've heard of Lubelski before as I think that's the most common Polish hop variety, at least to Americans. Princely was new to me and it is apparently new to the scene as well. For better or for worse, it was bred to provide fruity flavors a la most American varieties these days. The can advertises coconut and apricot and I assume they come from the Princely as Lubelski, I do believe, is more herbal - more Noble and less fruity.
Honestly, I went in hoping that the fruit flavors were subdued and that this wasn't one of those Hawaiian Punch beers. I didn't think that Goldfinger, a brewery that adheres to tradition otherwise fairly rigidly, as far as I can tell, would make one of those but maybe the novelty factor was just too great for Beckmann to overcome. That and my trips to the liquor store have got me seeing tropical fruit overload everywhere.
The beer poured a lovely yellow color that veered to light gold at the right angle which set off the categorization cogs in the beer enjoyment part of my brain and I thought, "Kinda more on the German side of things." I would expect a German pils to be perhaps a touch lighter but Pilsner Urquell is definitely darker. So, it's in that liminal pilsner SRM space...woooo...A big dollop of white foam sat atop the aureate liquid and it had staying power. There was a modicum of bubbles inside. I don't know what aromas to expect from Princely hops but I assume the fresh herbal-grassy scent here was courtesy of the Lebelski ones. There was also something fruity but it was indistinct to my nose. It was more stonefruit than tropical, though.
My first sip revealed a nice medium-light body which seemed to fit in the middle of my German-Czech pils dichotomy just like the color. Fizziness was middling, i.e. - I'd have been happy with a touch more but the beer still had a pleasant bite. A great cracker taste was accompanied by a nice touch of herbal hoppiness and this allayed my misbegotten fears of an overly fruity brew. There was something fruity in there, however, but it was like Winston in Ghostbusters and stayed in the background by-and-large.
The power of suggestion is, um, powerful and I'm not sure if I was tasting a fruit flavor that kinda sorta tasted like coconut because the label said so or not. It was more like apricot on the finish when the cracker taste yielded to a firm dose of herbal hoppiness which, in turn, faded slightly andlet that fruity taste seep through more.
Polish Pils #3 was excellent! For the most part, it tasted like a traditional pils of some stripe with the fruity tastes never taking over. Instead, they were a really nice accent. I loved the fresh grassy hop scent and the light, cracker malt taste. Really delicate flavors handled adroitly by Beckmann and Co.
Junk food pairing: Get some of Goldfinger's Polish Pils quick because I believe it's a limited edition brew. It will pair well with onion and sour cream potato chips but I highly recommend going with a dill snack and your babcia would no doubt approve of Herr's Creamy Dill Pickle chips where every bite is full of mizeria goodness.
Yesterday I spent some quality time in the meat department of my local supermarket and followed this up by buying charcoal. My bill from Farm & Fleet was rather more than I thought it would be. Inspecting the receipt, it looks like cat litter is twice as expensive than I remembered it being and I had bought 250% more charcoal than I normally do.
When I got home, I marinated some boneless/skinless chicken thighs in a faux Southeast Asian marinade that had lemongrass in it. I grilled them up in the evening and served them with a glass of Lemongrass Pils from 3 Sheeps Brewing.
The chicken was quite tasty while the light body and big citrus-floral taste of the beer complemented the grilled meat and jalapeno slices very well.
My next project was to tweak my standard German grilling marinade for some pork chops.
I bought a silo of Köstritzer Schwarzbier and poured some into my mixing bowl. Then I liberally added Polish mustard and followed this up with a generous portion of Penzey's Bavarian seasoning blend. Pretty standard stuff.
The tweak was to add plum.
I mashed some of the plum pieces to try and liberate their Prunus essence. Tasting the marinade, I concluded that I had put in too much mustard. These chops will go down fine but the senf adding needs a lighter touch, I suspect. We shall find out, though, when the marriage of the flavors is consummated.
Nice to see that the original New Glarus brew, Edel Pils, has returned. Unfortunately, it's a brewery-only release.
As part of New Glarus' 30th anniversary, we welcome back Edel-Pils! The brewery’s first brew, Edel-Pils uses specially selected Bavarian yeast, European and Wisconsin malts, and Bavarian and Wisconsin hops. Edel-Pils is sold exclusively at the brewery Beer Depot! Cheers! 🍻 pic.twitter.com/zoIifeowBi
— New Glarus Brewery (@newglarusbrew) June 7, 2023
Before there was Spotted Cow, there was Edel Pils.
My memory is that I first tasted New Glarus beer in the late summer or early fall of 1994 when my then girlfriend and I lived together in a flat on the isthmus. She had recently turned 21 and celebrated having attained the age of majority by heading to Pinkus McBride and bringing home a 6-pack of Edel Pils by this new brewery just south of town. I was an instant fan of the beer and remain one of the brewery nearly 29 years later.
At some point, Edel Pils disappeared, its place usurped by Spotted Cow, although it has returned periodically over the years. Overall, though, the pilsner just didn't seem to have a big place in the New Glarus line-up for a long time. Unfortunately, when the brewery revamped their website fairly recently, the "Beers We Have Known and Loved" section went away so I am relying on my imperfect memory here. Hometown Blonde was a pils and a really tasty one but, alas, just like Edel Pils, it came and went.
About 5 years ago, they released a limited edition pilsner called Mistral which featured the eponymous hop from France. Things seemed quiet on the pilsner front for a spell and then last year came 22 Pils, brewed with a variety of malts and flavored with a new (or newish, anyway) German variety of hops called Diamant.
As a consumer, it seemed that there were some pilsner wheels turning down in New Glarus, but they were grinding slowly. However, this means they were grinding fine and this spring we got Pilsner, a new seasonal, named with typical Wisconsin reserve and humility.
It seems that Brewmaster Dan pieced this one together with ingredients from various pilsner brewing traditions. It's a bit German and a bit Czech; a bit old school and a bit neu. Malts are double-decocted in Central European brewing tradition and then joined with a panoply of mostly newer hops: Diamant, Mittelfrüh, Saphir, Select, and Hallertau Blanc. It seems that 22 Pils was merely a trial run for this, Dan's latest attempt at the perfect pilsner. Is this his gesamtkunstbier?
Clear as day and a refulgent yellow, Pilsner looked wonderful in my footed New Glarus pilsner glass which I brought up from the basement for the occasion. There were some bubbles inside which floated upwards to the large, white head of frothy foam that proved to be in no hurry to dissipate. Even if the flavor wasn't right, at least it had the perfect pilsner appearance. The aroma was heavenly with traditional biscuit and grassy scents joined by a hint of something fruity, something like white grapes with a little pear.
My first sip revealed a light-medium body along with a good, firm fizziness to it. The grainy taste was mainly biscuity with just a hint of doughy sweetness. A bracing herbal hoppiness provided balance and crispness and there was also a melon-like fruitiness too. On the finish, the grainy taste went auf wiedersehen and allowed the herbal-fruity hop combo to come to the fore with those new-fangled ones giving a melon-pear taste. They also gave a very pleasant medium dryness and bitterness to the finale.
Ausgezeichnet!
This is a fine pilsner. Very fine, indeed. It has more maltiness than a German pils but less than a Czech one like Pilsner Urquell. It really tasted like Dan split it perfectly down the middle. Similarly, your tongue gets a bracing dose of Noble hop flavor here but also subtle fruity ones. To the best of my knowledge, 3 of the 5 hops used here (or listed on the label, anyway) impart fruity flavors and/or aromas and I really appreciate how they are all accents and not assertively trying to make this beer into Hawaiian Punch. They provide a nice counterpoint to the more traditional pilsner flavor but really, they're all working together here instead of one standing out. Just great. And my empty pilsner glass was left with some mighty fine lacing. Visual perfection.
I hope Brewmaster Dan continues his quest for the perfect pilsner and that he throws some rye into the next batch.
Junk food pairing: This is a wonderful, complex beer that demands a subtle food pairing. Try a bag of Lay's Cucumber potato chips with your Pilsner.
I got a chance to taste Working Draft Beer's 5th anniversary brew, Fünf, a pilsner. Having enjoyed their Czech, German, and French takes on the style, I was looking forward to it.
Turns out it was hopped with fruity nouveau hops. This stuff was just too fruity for my taste. I should have known better after the ill omen of a cracked glass.
I stopped in at the Great Dane yesterday and sampled their Tri Pepper Pils.
I've always found chili beers to be a real mixed bag with most of them being blonde ales with way too much jalapeño, as if it were a novelty brew from Archie McPhee. Here jalapeños are joined by poblano and habanero chilies in a Czech-style pilsner. There's just a smidgen of heat but a good dose of chili flavor that seems to mostly be the green taste of jalapeño and poblano.
Initial sips were light & brisk but, after the beer warmed a bit, the chili taste was joined by a fine maltiness which made for a nice balance with its contrasting flavor and sweetness.
I was happy to find this a very delectable beer instead of one that tempted you into Scoville madness.
I did not wear a beret for this review. I did, however, listen to some Ravel because who doesn’t like “Bolero”?
The Bohemians invented the pilsner and then the Germans appropriated it, making the beer a lighter affair in the process. A bunch of Germans emigrated to the United States and a new variation arose which, as near as I can tell, involved a more muscular, adjunct-laden malt flavor than that of their homeland with more hops too. Then in the mid-1990s an Italian brewer named Agostino Arioli invented, by accident, apparently, the Italian pilsner. This Italian mutation is characterized by the dry-hopping process used in its creation. I think so, anyway.
And now Madison’s Working Draft Beer Company offers Le Pils, a French-style pilsner. So what stylings make a pilsner French? Are baguettes part of the malt bill? Is it filtered through a beret? Lagered on a bed of escargot? Maybe the brewers simply need to wear striped shirts and read Sartre.
Looking at the can, it seems that being brewed with Strisselsplat hops is what does the trick. I found an article stating that these hops are from the Alsace region of France. Personally, I find it odd to think of the French growing hops and brewing beer because all they drink is wine, right? A quick look at a map reveals that Alsace borders Germany and surely the region was at some point part of a German kingdom/state or ruled with ruthless efficiency by Prussians. Alsace’s location explains the hop’s Teutonic sounding name. It’s an old hop and the region has proudly loosed another variety called Mistral on the world. New Glarus brewed a tasty pilsner with it a few years back.
I perused the archives and found that I have tasted a beer brewed with these Strisselsplat hops before: Nooner Pilsner (R.I.P) by Sierra Nevada from back when that venerable brewery brewed beers other than IPAs. Strisselsplat was just one of the hop varieties used in that beer and that, combined with several years distance, means I cannot give you an accurate description of this hop’s flavor. However, it appears to be the lone hop here.
Now that I think about it, I am certain that I had this beer last summer at the brewery. I recall the trepidation I felt as I glanced at the beer menu. Was it merely an excuse to make another fruity beer? Should I go with one of their Czech styles instead?
Le Pils poured a lovely gold color which seemed more in line with a Czech pilsner than its German cousin. The stuff was as clear as day and allowed me to see some bubbles inside working their way up to a generous head of fairly loose white foam. The head went away rather slowly. Although my photography doesn’t do it justice, this was a fine-looking and very alluring beer.
While it had a Czech-like appearance, it smelled more German at first with a light, crackery malt scent coupled with some grassy hops. Then I caught a bit of fruitiness in there – something like berries.
A sip revealed a really nice fizziness complementing a medium-light body with a prominent biscuit flavor that had a very mild sweetness. The hops tasted herbal but also fruity with something redolent of melon. This fruitiness wasn’t extreme or dominating. Instead, it harmonized with the other flavors well. Upon swallowing, the hoppy herbal-melon pas de deux danced on my tongue leaving a gentle bitterness and a lightly dry finish.
Le Pils is excellente! It has a great malt flavor that is probably stronger than you’d find in a German pils but weaker than a Czech one. Those Strisselspalt hops add classic green herbal flavors and, thankfully, have a light touch when it comes to the fruity ones. This stuff also has the parfait fizz. You can taste it and feel it on your tongue but the effervescence never becomes an obstacle to getting at the malt and hops. Flavors can be gentle and more subtle because they needn’t worry about being overrun by a bunch of marauding bubbles leaving a sharp acidulousness in their wake.
Having now had Working Draft’s German, Czech, and French takes on this style, I can say that they are the premiere purveyors of pilsner in Madison.
Junk food pairing: For a Frankish beer like this, you'll want to pair it with only the finest haute junk food. Le Pils will pair well with brie & cranberry potato chips.
When I was at the brewery in New Glarus, I noticed that the gift shop had DVDs of Tale of the Spotted Cow for sale. I didn't buy a copy but now I wish I did because I am having trouble remembering dates. Whenever it was that New Glarus started selling their beer - 1993? 1994? - they were selling Edel Pils. And maybe Belgian Red too. I cannot recall when that was first introduced but it was early.
Wait.
According to local beer scribe Robin Shepard, Belgian Red was their third brew. I'd swear on Shepard's life that Edel Pils was first so what was second? Copper Kettle Weissbier? I bet that documentary would tell us. Regardless, Belgian Red is still brewed today.
And Belgian Red deserves to be brewed today because it's a wonderful beer. Spotted Cow pays the bills and gets most of the press but what other American brewery was brewing a Belgian-style fruited sour beer in 1994ish? In Wisconsin? Of that quality, too. Belgian Red was sui generis there for a while in Wisconsin beer coolers. Plus, it wasn't long before New Glarus introduced one of, if not the, first commercial coffee stouts. Coffee Stout is still brewed today, though it seems to be a biennial brew.
But Edel Pils? I don't know when it was last made. Seems like it is around once every several years, perhaps. Too bad. I recall drinking it starting in 1994 and loving it. Brewmaster Dan Carey proved his brewing ability for all to taste with it. And then, somewhere along the way, the pilsner fell out of fashion and the New Glarus beer roster moved on. The style pops up now and again as a limited edition, made in smaller quantities and sometimes available only at the brewery. As best I can recall, the last pilsner New Glarus made was Mistral back in 2018. Well, until now.
22 Pils was released this spring and is available only at the brewery. Described as a German Style Pilsner, it was made with a blend of "American, German and Czech heirloom Pilsner malts". Sounds excellent. The wort underwent a Double Decoction Mash - ausgezeichnet! The beer was then topped off with whole cone Diamant hops aus Deutschland.
Wait. Dia-what?
They are a rather new variety having been introduced in 2019. I wasn't able to find a Diamant Hops for Dummies site so I found myself parsing brewersese. One site made it sound like climate change is making life rough for growers of Noble hops and that Diamant was bred to survive the coming apocalypse thrive in the new environment in which we find ourselves. Uff da! That doesn't sound good.
A pils from New Glarus is a special occasion so I dug out a pilsner glass from the basement. I poured kind of, um, aggressively and ended up with a very large head of firm, white foam that proved to be in no hurry to go anywhere. The liquid was yellow and clear as day. A goodly number of bubbles were found inside making their way upwards. The last time I wrote about a pilsner I confessed to loving their aromas which remind me of summer with their green hoppy scents melding with a light maltiness. Well, this bier had that in spades. Beyond that, there were also hints of fruitiness and a little something floral. Simply wonderful.
It had a good, solid fizz to it as one would expect from a pils. The malt flavor was that tasty cracker-biscuit hybrid plus a little toasted bread thrown in for good measure. It was, after all, doubly decocted. The Diamant hops gave that herbal/spicy flavor which one expects from a Teutonic hop but there was also a fruitiness that was berry/melon-like. Depending on the sip, the beer could taste rather sweet. Not that it was; I think it was simply a stronger fruit flavor from the hops fooling my brain into believing this brew was laced with fructose.
On the finish the malty flavors faded leaving the more fruity elements of the hops to linger a short time before the more traditional spicy taste came to the fore. The denouement featured firm bitterness and dryness to make you forget the faux sweetness.
Ausgezeichnet! The malty flavor here is just great and I really enjoyed the hoppy tug-of-war between the herbal/spicy and fruity flavors. Fizziness is just right as is the astringent taste. And by "just right" I mean perfect. Crisp with a little bite but never distracting. I really hope there's a 23 Pils because this stuff is simply fantastic.
Junk food pairing: a unique pilsner like this demands a unique food pairing. Try a bag of Mrs. Fischer's Dark Jalapeno chips with your 22 Pils. These darker, extra-Maillardy chips have a little chili zing to them and go perfectly with this crisp, flavorful brew.
Back in May my Frau and I made a trek west to Iowa. Our destination was Iowa City where we would see the remarkable Valerie June in concert but we made a short detour to Cedar Rapids. Neither of us had ever been there previously and we wanted to visit the African American Museum of Iowa. If you ever find yourself in Cedar Rapids, I highly recommend stopping in at the museum. Even with its clear focus on Iowa, I, a Cheesehead, found it fascinating and got a lot out of it. Similarly, if you ever get the chance to see Valerie June perform, heed Steve Winwood's advice and take it.
After our museum visit was over, we pondered what to do next. There were signs for a “Czech Village” that lay just across the river and that sounded intriguing so away we went. It turned out that Cedar Rapids had a fair number of Czech and Slovak immigrants settle there back in the day. I am sure this is all well-documented at the National Czech & Slovak Museum & Library in Czech Village but we didn’t stop there so you’re stuck with the results of my internet searches.
One site says that Czechs began arriving in Cedar Rapids in 1852 but I found nothing about when Slovakian folks started to settle there. Maybe the sites' authors consider these ethnic groups to be one and the same since, if memory serves, their lands, presumably, Bohemia and proto-Solvakia, were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire at this time. I think. They were drawn by the prospect of agricultural jobs including work at the Sinclair meat packing plant in town. (Hey! Just like Postville.) I suspect that, for most non-Iowans, corn comes to mind first when the state is mentioned but there's more to Iowa than maize. It also processes a lot of hogs and cattle as well. The commercial/retail center of the town’s Czech-American community was what is now Czech Village.
The day we visited the weather was agreeable with the sun shining brightly and so shopkeepers peddled their wares out on the sidewalks as people strolled the streets going from storefront to storefront. We eventually found ourselves standing before Lion Bridge Brewing Company feeling thirsty so we stepped inside for refreshment.
While the taproom was rather sparsely populated, we could see that the patio was hoppin'. As expected, there was no shortage of those dreaded IPAs on the beer menu. However, I was impressed to find that one of their year-round brews is an English mild called Compensation. We were tantalized by several of the offerings on the big board so we ordered a flight, including Compensation, which was quite tasty. I also liked the coffee Kölsch. Their tangerine wheat beer was a nice surprise with its bright citrus flavor and light body which made it pleasantly similar to Allagash White.
Being in the middle of Czech Village meant nods to the neighborhood’s history. Bohemian Lager was brewed with rice and sounded like an American adjunct pilsner that has Saaz hops in it instead of whatever type of hops craft brewers usually put into their Bud/Miller knock offs. But Živá Voda (“living water”) was a more traditional Czech-style pilsner and we came home with a 6-pack.
Here in the States “Czech-style pilsner” is a catch-all term for pilsners that the brewmaster deems Czech-like. It perhaps implies that there is but a single version of pilsner over in that part of the world. But as Evan Rail and others have documented for non-Czech speakers, there are a variety of styles and sub-styles over there. I suspect all of those diacritical marks and degree notations such as "12°" used by Czech brewers make things more complicated than most Americans care to deal with. Therefore anything with Saaz or Saaz-tasting hops = Czech-style.
My pour of Živá Voda got a fairly small, loose, white head that, sadly, went away quite quickly. Is that beer chemistry? Or a lousy pour? The liquid was a gold-tinged yellow and just slightly hazy. (Likely chill haze.) As expected, there were lots of bubbles inside. Let me tell ya, this stuff smelled wonderful with a luscious aroma of grass and cracker joined by a faint bit o’ honey and a little sumpin’ sumpin’ floral. It smelled like a summer day out in the country. This aestival aroma of the pilsner is probably my favorite beer smell of all. (A good, fresh rauchbier is right behind.) I don't what it is, but that aroma just goes straight to my hippocampus which triggers the release of dopamine or oxytocin or something and life just feels good.
I've consumed various types of pilsners and I still don't understand all of the differences. There's Bohemian pilsners, German ones, American, Italian, CBD, French, Keller - who knows what other kinds. India Pale Pilsners are no doubt a thing somewhere. So, Czech pilsners are maltier than German ones, correct? And they are hoppier too with a bold Saaz bite, right? It's unclear to me what French pilsners are exactly. You'd think the French are too busy with wine, baguettes, and Jerry Lewis to brew beer. Are they a distinct style? Or just a German pils brewed with French hops? I drank one recently at Working Draft here in Madison called "Le Pils". I am clueless as to what made it French but I'd bet it's the hops. It had a delectable taste featuring lemon and spicy pepper flavors. Aramis hops, perhaps?
Yes, I just found those on a search.
Now that I think about it, I doubt that I've ever had an Italian pilsner. Certainly not one from Italy but there is an outside chance that an American one has passed my lips. I'm not sure what is particularly Italian about them. One moment...
Jeff Alworth says that there are a few elements that go into an Italian pilsner that give it a distinct Italian quality but that American brewers have basically reduced its uniqueness down to dry hopping. I am shocked - SHOCKED! - that American brewers would do such a thing.
Oh well.
This brings me to Dovetail's Pilsner which, to the best of my knowledge, made its way to Madison for the very first time recently. The can's label says only "PILSNER" and I was forced to go the brewery's website to find more info. There it is described as "a showcase for Czech hops" and the brewery's marketing team go on to boast that it was brewed with "heaven's water", which sounds like Chicago tap water that has had some chemistry voodoo worked upon it so that it was akin to the soft water of the pilsner's hometown, Plzeň, in the Czech Republic.
Man, water chemistry is not my thing and I am thinking I might have to summon the ghost of Robert Boyle to explain this to me.
Let's see if I can get this right. Plzeň's water is soft, i.e. - lacking in bicarbonates and pretty low in calcium too. This makes for water more on the acidic side which favors paler malts and brings out bready flavors. Now, why this should be is yet unknown to me but that sounds like the Bohemian pilsners I've quaffed. My searches yield lots of articles that merely say, "Want to brew a pilsner and have naturally soft water? You're golden." They are short on the details, though, about how x number of moles of some compound dissolved in the water yields a beer that is high in I.B.U.s - International Breadiness Units. As best I can piece it together, acidity levels are key to enzymes being happy and happy enzymes means tasty beer.
The water in Plzeň apparently also lacks sulfates which enhance hop bitterness so I guess Czech brewers have traditionally added more hops, hence the more intense spiciness of their pilsners, perhaps?
Ha! I probably have that all wrong but I am going with it anyway.
If Dovetail is going to go through all the trouble of mimicking the water of a city thousands of miles away, the beer is going to be good, right?
WRONG!
I kid! I kid!
Dovetail's beers are always so pretty. I feel badly because I don't have a good camera that can really capture their alluring beauty. Long before this glass got anywhere near my mouth, I was entranced by the beer that could launch a thousand sips. At least I managed to find a pilsner glass for the occasion. Dovetail's Pilsner is a lovely light gold with a slight haze to it. I poured for the head and got a big one. Lots of firm, white foam was mine, all mine. It smelled as good as it looked with a delicate cracker aroma joined by grass and peppery hops.
The malt tasted like biscuit as a firm fizz made its way to the back of my mouth. That toasty, melanoidiny, bready flavor was here in spades. Yum! As expected, it had a light body. Oh, and the hops tasted spicy to me, just as advertised. (Or was that because I had read the description beforehand?) Upon swallowing, I found that the biscuit taste lingered a while but was eventually overwhelmed by some herbal-peppery hop flavors that were a bit dank and resinous. They were not wanting in bitterness and left things on a fairly dry note. My glass was decorated with some wonderful lacing.
Oh mama! This was an extremely tasty brew. I don't know what kind of hydromancy they performed to get that heavenly water but it paid off. The soft biscuit flavor was simply divine and it melded perfectly with those spicy hops.
Junk food pairing: just as Dovetail used some diablerie to transform ordinary tap water into heaven's water, Utz performed some kind of alchemical chicanery with fried dill pickles so pair your Pilsner with a bag of Utz's Fried Dill Pickle potato chips.
With its genesis in the mid-80s, Bell’s is surely the granddaddy of microbrewers in Michigan. If Stroh, which is long gone and exists only on paper in a trademark office, is like the Miller of Michigan, is there an old regional brewery? Like their equivalent of Point or Leinenkugel?
…
That appears to be Frankenmuth Brewery which opened in 1862.
Still, Bell’s is a relative veteran in the beer game. When I hear the brewery’s name mentioned, visions of Oberon dance in my head. In addition to their much ballyhooed wheat ale, I also tend to think of Two Hearted, an IPA, Hopslam, a double IPA, and Expedition Stout, an imperial stout. Bell’s is generally highly regarded and I tend to regard them highly too. They don’t discriminate against black employees, the company is family owned and not a subsidiary of AB-InBev or Molson Coors, theirs is a reputation for brewing high quality beers, and they’re fellow denizens of the Upper Midwest. It’s just that I don’t drink them very often. Rarely, in fact.
American IPAs are not my thing while American wheat ales and Russian Imperial stouts are styles that I rarely seek out and quaff only once in a blue moon. Of course, they brew other styles as you can tell from the title of this post. I ran into Lager of the Lakes recently and it rang a bell, pun intended. I believe I’ve had it before but couldn’t say when. After doing a bit of research, I felt a bit silly when I read that A) it’s brewed year-round and B) it has been around since 2003. Surely I’ve drunk it previously. Why am I only now giving it some attention?
Bell’s calls this beer a Bohemian style pilsner. You may recall back in June when I was a ball of confusion over the differences between German and Czech pilsners. Well, because I approach these posts about beers with the utmost seriousness, I brought home some Pilsner Urquell fairly recently so that I might become thoroughly acquainted with the Bohemian pilsner. I failed in that endeavor but nonetheless I am ready to take on another Ameri-piwo that a domestic brewer would like you to think could have come from Pilsen itself.
The beer was a lovely light yellow hue and clear. On top was a big, frothy head that had staying power. Lots of bubbles were visible inside heading on up. A very pretty beer. And it smelled nice too with an enchanting grassy hop aroma along with cracker, just a touch of malt sweetness, and a faint lemon scent to boot.
A nice, firm fizziness kept a mix of biscuit and grassy/herbal hop flavors in line. There was a hint of malt sweetness but that was all so the beer's body was rather light. It was lagered to perfection - clean and crisp. The finish was quite dry with the hops taking on a peppery taste. There was a wee bit of lingering malt as well as a similar amount of astringency.
I really enjoyed the fizz and the dry finish here. Well, I really enjoyed this beer as a whole. Those tasty Noble hop flavors shone through although the less prominent malt flavors were no less delicious. It was a wonderful brew that seemed like a German style pils to me yet the label purports that the can contains a pilsner of the Bohemian variety. I suppose one can argue that Bohemia was part of Germany from 1939-45 but that's cheating.
Since the last time I ran into the old Czech vs. German pilsner conundrum, I've had some Pilsner Urquell. It was decidedly not light yellow - more of a deep gold or light amber. And the malt taste was much more prominent. When I look at pictures of Budvar and Staropramen, they too are much darker than Lager of the Lakes.
Regardless of the taxonomy, this a great beer.
Junk food pairing: Pork rinds! Plain or spicy.
Early August 2021
I wrote previously that I was saddened when the news came down that an old Prohibition era roadhouse here in Madison with ties
to Chicago mobsters called The Wonder Bar was slated to be demolished to make way
for an 18-story high rise. In a surprising turn of events, the Madison Plan
Commission saved the building by denying permission to the
developer. Considering that the owner was ready to sell and that the restaurant
has been closed for months, I am not sure that it is out of the woods yet but
at least it has been given a temporary reprieve.
********
I saw this
at the grocery store last week: sauerkraut in squeeze bottles from a company
called Sauer Frau. I love the name and logo.
A cousin of mine sent out
an email last month with a link to a photo gallery of train stations from
the days of yore. I was reminded of this missive a couple weeks ago when one of
our local papers ran an article about the debate over where to build a train
station should intercity passenger rail return to Madison.
The article
quoted a local urban planner:
"If
Madison aims high, and hires the best station architects available, then it can
have a beautiful new civic icon," he said.
Our mayor
wants to locate it on the north side in the former Oscar Mayer site which is in the early days of being transformed from a meat processing facility into something new that doesn't smell like hot dogs.
Here's a rendering showing a train station in the lower center with a clock
tower.
Of course,
there's no guarantee we'll even need a station in the near future. But let us
hope. Biden's infrastructure bill is working its way through the legislative
process…
********
Despite
having been open since 2017 and being a mere 2 blocks from our house, the Frau and I had never been to the Olbrich Biergarten until a week or so ago. Located
on the north shore of Lake Monona, it serves up beer, soda, pretzels, and
mini-bratwurst in an idyllic setting. Well, it's idyllic when the lake doesn't smell of toxic algae slime.
It seems
that all of the doomsaying by the local Cassandras didn't come to pass,
thankfully.
********
Back in high
school I read Kerouac's On the Road and Ginsberg's "Howl". It took me a
while but I have finally read something by the final member of the Beat
Generation holy triumvirate, William S. Burroughs. I don't know why it took me
so long especially considering his brief resurgence of popularity while I was
in college when he did a couple spoken word albums with the musicians Kurt
Cobain and The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, respectively. It was the Beat Generation
collaborating with Generation X.
After I
finished reading the novel, I sought out a little more about the man and found
that the radio show This American Life broadcasted a BBC Radio 4
documentary about Burroughs called "Burroughs at 100" and it can be
found here. To say that the guy was a character
is a vast understatement.
********
Now that
there's fresh, local sweetcorn to be had, I bought some at the stand just 5 or
6 blocks from us. I grilled it up fine and turned it into elote, a.k.a. –
Mexican street corn. I mixed some mayo with crema (Mexican sour cream) and
smeared it on liberally. Then a layer of cotija, a dry cheese that crumbles
into small bits easily, followed by some chili powder, and finally plenty of
lime juice. It accompanied some fresh kielbasa that was also grilled to
perfection.
The stuffing
included rum soaked raisins and, on the day I was to cook the chops, I got them
soaking first thing. I mean it was 5 A.M. and I went to the liquor cabinet to
find the rum even before turning on the coffeemaker. My morning routine normally starts
with the Brewing of the Coffee followed by feeding the cats who are noisily petitioning me with meows for breakfast so you can imagine they were not
happy and even a bit confused as to just what the human was up to. In addition
to those raisins, the stuffing had apple slices sautéed in butter, some
cinnamon sugar, and bread crumbs. The chops were braised with beer in the oven
and I think they turned out pretty well.
Bonus photo. I saw this on the back of a car on one of my bike rides. When they turn on the rear windshield wipers, Arnie flexes his muscles.