Get your head out of your (gl)ass!

"This beer pours with a 1.17 inch head that drops into a nice webby lace within 7 minutes. The carbonation rises from the bottom like giant hot air balloons on a hot summers day in Readington, New Jersy. The front end dances on your taste buds with a bit of intense citrus, finishing with an herbal note that a light breeze can blow off of your tongue. If you squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, you can sense a faint note of matured Sugar Maple woodiness from Burlington, Vermont." Waiting for a punchline? There is none. It's just a mouthful of bullshit. Possibly great beer, but still bullshit. Today, we're going to sift through that bullshit and find out where beer reviewing went wrong.

The many shades of beer.

Let's start by identifying the problem: What the hell are you talking about? If I read your review and don't know that you're talking about beer, there's a problem. If I learn about the scents from your grandfather's farm as the sun rises above the sunflowers, there's a problem. If you are trying to make use of that unused English Literature degree in your closet, don't write beer reviews, stick to novellas. If your Pale Ale tastes like a Pale Ale, stop there--don't try to suck something out of the beer that isn't there. Unfortunately, in the blogging age, quantity doesn't often equate with quality.

Of course, anyone can bitch and complain, but here at portlandbeer.org, we also provide solutions. When I sit down at a bar and open up your beer publication, I want to know what's out there and what to try. I don't want to know if the grain is willowy, or if the hops transport you to another world. Honestly, I don't want your opinion. I don't even want to know if you liked it. The only thing I want to know is what style it is and if it fits the BJCP style guidelines.

The Portland beer community at the 2007 Oregon Brewers Festival.

For example, if you are reviewing an English Brown Ale, is it a Mild, Southern English Brown, or Northern English Brown--and of course, why? There's plenty to talk about right here: Aroma, Appearance, Flavor, Mouthfeel, etc. Oh, and if your a strict numbers person, talk about preferable ranges for Original Gravity, Final Gravity, International Bittering Units, and Alcohol By Volume for that style.

Now, once you make all of these comparisons, you may find that the beer does not fit it's intended category. Don't fret! If the statistics point toward a Brown Porter, maybe the intentions of the beer and the final product are a bit different. Too often, reviewers dismiss beer that is miscategorized. This beer might be a bad example of an English Brown Ale, but that alone does not make it a bad beer. It still could be the best Brown Porter in the world!

I want to read about a beer, see if it's a great representation of that style, and then put it on my to-drink list. That's it. Just give me the facts and let me decide for myself. Beer is too subjective to review without any guidelines to rely on. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to take the creativity out of beer reviews, I just want to make sure that they include facts about the style.

Resting on our Laurels

I was in a market last night looking to pick up a six pack when I noticed myself leaning toward choosing some California beers. Specifically, Lagunitas and Stone varieties. As I stood there I thought to myself that California has a lot of great bottled beers. And that scared me.

The all too infrequently seen bottle of Deranger from Laurelwood Brewing Company.

Portlanders love big beers. We are situated on a latitude where hops are abundant, and this is reflected in the beer we produce. But, as with all great beers, this hop character needs a foil, and that reflection is malt. So in the Spring and Summer, we see hugely hoppy beers with raised malt to balance. The reverse is also true. The strong ales of winter use a lot of malt and then require a lot of hop bitterness to offset the sweetness. Of course, there is a large amount of variation on this idea depending on the resulting beer style. But you get my point.

A few California brewers are bottling their beer and selling it with a "fuck you" attitude: Don't like it, then don't buy it, but we're still going to make it. And a lot of the beer is great. Very much like the beer we brew here in town. The difference is that our great beer doesn't make it into bottles and get sent out to take over the world. A lot of what leaves Portland is commercially tested, focused-grouped styles that don't necessarily represent the great experimentation that Portland brewers are known for. It's more of a "Here's what you asked for" attitude which doesn't necessarily represent what's really going on in the city.

Don't scold me for leaving out a couple of important facts. I know that bottling isn't as easy as a snap of the fingers. And there is a hell of a lot of logistics in distribution. There is also a lot of economics and politics in both. Plus, there are exceptions to this rule. I think that Bridgeport makes a great IPA, both draft and bottled. Hair of The Dog also has a great lineup of big beers that leave Portland in bottles.

Overall though, the bottles that are leaving our state's border from Portland are not representative of what's being brewed here, and that ratio needs to increase. Not only to to keep our title of Beer Capital of the World, but also as a way to put California back in it's place. I don't mind banding together with Washington to help the Northwest take over the beer world, but I will not hold hands with California as a West Coast brotherhood.

In fact, let this be the gauntlet, much like the mid-nineties Death Row v. Bad Boy rivalry: California, we can take you. You may try to imitate our attitude and beer, but that's all it is, imitation!

Point, Portland.

All Mixed Up But Not Confused

I'm going to tackle another sensitive issue here today. So, if you don't have a strong stomach, look away. If you're still with me--my topic today is beer mixing.

To mix or not to mix?

This subject matter seems to be very polarizing. Some people mix, the rest find this to be an abomination. Now, usually, there is no right answer to these types of questions, but this time there is: mixing is a good idea.

Now that I've said it, I'd like to clarify my position. First of all, the mixing that I'm speaking of is post brewing mixing--it simply means some from one tap, some from another. Very similar to the tradition of black and tan, half and half, or black and Sam. These traditional mixes however, usually rely on a visual aspect as well--there is almost always a clear separation of the two beers in the pint glass. In fact, there are tools to help a bartender pour these drinks properly. I don't much care what my beer looks like, it's the taste I'm after. The mixing I'm talking about is the homogeneous type--pour it, swirl it, whatever. Bell Biv Devoe said it best: "Smack it up, flip it, rub it down." You get the idea.

There are many brewers and drinkers out there who find that this concept goes against the natural beer purity laws: "I've brewed a Winter Ale, you'll drink a Winter Ale." But this also goes against Portland's experimental nature. We love when brewers experiment and try new ideas. Beer mixing is the consumer's way to take part in the experimentation as well.

Now, I'm not recommending that the average drinker go out and start mixing every beer that they order. This is not a fad. This isn't what the cool people are doing. To mix properly, you must know your beers intimately. One of my favorite mixes is a dark malty winter ale and a hop heavy IPA. During the winter, when I've made the switch to darker beers, I sometimes still want that hop nose of a great IPA. You can't just grab random beers and pouring them together, you must be well acquainted with each individually. You need to know the subtle characteristics of each part of the equation before evaluating their sum. This is for professionals only.

Experiment. Have fun. Support Portland beer!