The Story of Beak’s Best Bitter: “Wet Your Beak”

Arguably, English ale-making traditions are the least understood of all those passed down to us by our European forbearers, at least during the present, “extreme” phase of America’s better beer revolution.

But smaller can be as good or better, and from the inception of NABC’s brewery in 2002, we’ve sought to honor the English ale ethos with a select few brews. Back in 2002, Beak’s Best was the second batch of beer NABC ever brewed. Community Dark was the first, and Elector came third.

All of them possessed English stylistic antecedents, even if actively encouraged along the way to showcase American attributes borne of their New World creation and residence. It’s nature and nurture; family trees span space and time, both in beer itself and for the people who brew beer.

Then, as now, Beak’s borrows its name from Dr. Donald “Beak” Barry, whose bibulous exploits have set the tone for generations of New Albanians to drink themselves to sleep on their couches. Don, the cousin of NABC co-owner Roger A. Baylor, has been Roger’s mentor through decades of historical studies, European vacations, irreverent political debates and prodigious alcohol consumption in a wide variety of configurations.

Whether at home or abroad, these many lessons have been pivotal in NABC’s evolving view of beer and brewing in the context of drinking locally and thinking globally.

Like all of NABC’s beers, Beak’s has evolved over the years, even if its founding concept has remained quite consistent. Originally, Beak’s was broadly placed in the range of an English-style Extra Special Bitter (ESB), albeit with American hops rather than English. Because our base malt in the early days was Simpsons Golden Promise, we formerly referred to Beak’s as Anglo-American.

Later, as the brewery grew into maturity, it transpired that the malt, hops and yeast used to make Beak’s became entirely American. For a while, we referred to Beak’s as “American Ale,” although in terms of flavor and intent, it remained reminiscent of its English ale lineage.

Now, for 2014, we’re tweaking Beak’s again. The ingredients remain exactly the same, with the only difference being a slight lowering of ABV so that Beak’s now fits snugly into NABC’s Session Beer Series at 4.5%. Hence the pun: Beak’s Best/Best Bitter, because Best Bitter (BJCP 8B) is the style that it most closely approximates.

Draft Beak’s Best Bitter remains a staple at NABC’s two New Albanian locations (served on the hand-pull at Bank Street Brewhouse whenever possible), and is available by the keg through distribution in Indiana (Cavalier) and metropolitan Louisville on the Kentucky side of the Ohio (River City Distributing).

Later in 2014, we’ll be bottling Beak’s and other NABC Session Series ales (Community Dark, Houndmouth & Tafelbier) in 22-oz bombers for carry-out sale ONLY at Bank Street Brewhouse and the Pizzeria & Public House.

Beak’s Best Bitter

Best Bitter

ABV: 4.5%

IBU: 35

Color: Copper/ brown.

Flavor: Mid-range maltiness and bitterness with a balanced fruitiness.

Compare to: The same range as Fuller’s London Pride; similar to Rogue Younger’s Special Bitter, with less alcohol.

Description: “American Bitter & Soul Liniment.”

Recipe Suggestion: Ideally, the atmospheric accompaniment to Beak’s is fish and chips, but just about any pub food will do. Beak’s has the bitter edge to cut and complement most fried foods. The Cornish specialty Stargazy pie is a particular favorite of Roger’s, although it’s virtually impossible to find pilchards in the Ohio.

Updated May 2014

History 101: Remembering 10 NABC retirees (beers, not workers)

mastiff

After a while, you realize it’s been a while since we brewed any of these beers, and it’s unlikely we’ll do any of them again. However, stranger things have happened.

It’s also the case that the Publican is predisposed to reassign some of these cherished names (Silent Oath, Black Hand), so you just might see them again, as used for a completely different beer. Retirees are tagged according to their primary era of brewing:

Michael Borchers era, 2002-2005
Assistants: Joey Burns, and then Chris Spellman
Tag: MicB

Jesse Williams era, 2005-2009
Assistants: Chris Spellman, and then Jared Williamson
Tag: JesW

Jared Williamson era, 2007-2011
Assistants: Kyle Tavares, and then Ben Minton
Tag: JaW

(The) Black Hand
David and Beth Howard’s robust porter recipe won the 10th annual FOSSILS homebrewed porter competition in 2002, and was brewed by NABC for release the same year. In 2003, Bob Capshew’s recipe won the competition, and permanently altered the course of NABC’s subsequent Porter production, serving henceforth as the everyday basis for Old 15-B.
Circa 6% abv
MicB

Bush Hog
Floats over the yearning palate as a ship rides the waves
Billed as “The greatest lawnmower beer on earth; cuts a swath 86 IBUs wide,” it was adorned with tap handle art culled from century-old, heavy-duty, grass-cutting clip art. After Bush Hog came Turbo Hog. There was an even bigger Boss Hogg in the planning stages, but it never came to fruition.
Circa 6.8% abv
MicB

Flat Tyre
Rocky Mountain spring water is highly overrated
When a newly minted brown ale unexpectedly turned up reddish-amber, an improvisational pun on a popular Colorado craft beer was devised. When Fat Tire began to be sold in Indiana, the joke got very old, very quickly, and we cut bait.
Circa 5.5% abv
JesW

Happy Helmut
Souvenirs, Novelties, Party Tricks
Happy Helmut was named for a merry trinket salesman with whom Roger and Beak once drank numerous half-liters of Spezial while vacationing in Bamberg. The beer was intended as an homage to Franconian traditions in brewing, with smoked malt, a touch of rye and lager yeast. Helmut later was merged into Smoked Abzug, which also hasn’t been done for a while. There may need to be a revival.
4.5% abv
JarW

Henna
Now that’s what I wanted!
For a while, NABC had a Brewers’ Best Friend Series: “Assertive, loyal specialties named for our brewers’ canine chums, and often the beers of choice for creative aging.” Other included Abbey’s Dubbel and Jaxon (both still periodically active), Malcolm’s Old Setters Ale (retired), and Jasmine (below). The series was decommissioned after artist-in-residence Tony Beard declared that there isn’t enough whisky on the planet to compel him to draw another dog. As for Henna: “Henna always likes to smell stuff. We like to smell her hoppy beer. It’s a Black IPA … or was that Cascadian Dark Ale?”
7% abv
JarW

Hopscotch
The well-intentioned plan was to brew a Wee Heavy first, then use the second runnings for a smaller ale. Then the mash got stuck, and after a laborious rescue mission, a single batch of heavily hopped Scottish ale was the final, unreproducible result.
Circa 5.5% abv
MicB

Jasmine the Mastiff
As the lion is to the cat, the mastiff is to the dog.
Silky, sweet Stout with a solid roasted character. Big, bold, and ready to lean on you (Brewers’ Best Friend Series).
7.5% abv
JaW

Merckx
Belgian-style pale ale, inspired by De Koninck of Antwerp and the unparalleled (Lance who?) exploits of Eddy Merckx – competitive cycling’s greatest all-around performer. Ever.
Circa 5% abv
MicB

Silent Oath
The joy in Belgium
Drawn from an episode in Hugo Claus’s novel, “The Sorrow of Belgium,” it was Belgian-style Brown, perhaps with a hint of intentional sourness. A portion was aged in oak chips.
MicB

St. Alfonzo
Pancake breakfasts purely optional
A paean to Frank Zappa, this Belgian strong ale with quasi-Trappist predilections incorporated simple ingredients: Belgian two-row pale malt, rock candy, brewer’s crystals (fermentable sugar), Spalt (German noble) hops and Abbey yeast.
10% abv
MicB

The Story of Solidarity (2014)

A menacing queue forms before me.

It is comprised of well-intentioned nutritionists, crusading physicians, profiteering diet planners and congenital killjoys. In this nastiest of personal nightmares, they have gathered to demand that I eschew my expansive habits, to repent, convert and see the light … to eat and drink “right.”

Stubborn and unrepentant, I point defiantly to the thermometer. It’s cold in Louisville and Southern Indiana. Salade Nicoise, gazpacho, watermelon and corn on the cob, while theoretically possible in the context of the global economy, all seem inadequate amid the frigidity. Waxen imitation veggies need not apply.

Rather, what is needed is food to warm the bones, to arouse the slumbering genes of Northern European ancestors on the steppes and in the forest, those enduring and resourceful people who, during winter, reached for the pickled vegetables, delved into cellars for potatoes, beets and onions, and cracked open stocks of salted pork and fish.

For cooking in winter, I prefer hearty ingredients for soups, stews, goulash, cabbage rolls and casseroles. Furthermore, I want beer styles to complement them — beer that is cool, not cold; firm, not puny; and challenging, not simple. Winter provides the most suitable conditions for sampling the beefier classics that have come to us from various Old World brewing cultures, now embraced and sometimes redefined by American craft brewers.

Among these are familiar targets – Imperial Stout, Barley Wine, Old Ale and Doppelbock – as well as one with less notorious a reputation: Baltic Porter. These styles provide ample warming for bodies iced and chilled in the great outdoors, and also stick to the food that sticks to your bones when it matters most.

What’s more, they reflect personal origins in some elusive, yet cosmic fashion. My ancestry is as clear as mud – specifically, the wet dirt comprising flat and indefensible terrain formerly occupied by landowning Junkers in eastern Germany and the western half of what now is sovereign Poland. My people were the German grunt workers hoeing those endless rows, not the Bismarckian aristocrats over in the manor house.

Beer is written into my genetic code. Wine is a pleasant diversion, but my people toiled in Europe’s grain, not grape, belt. For this reason, Baltic Porter always has been intriguing.

Porters and Stouts come from the very same English family brewing tree, and rose to local popularity in the 18th century. England was the reigning sea power, and it was inevitable that these trendy beers would be shipped abroad; export markets soon were opened in Tsarist Russia and Hanseatic port cities astride the maritime route to St. Petersburg. In time, Porters and Stouts spawned numerous local imitators along the shores of the blustery Baltic.

Seems that economic localism was alive, even then.

At first, like other beers of the time, top-fermenting ale yeast was used to brew them. Later, as German bottom-fermenting (lager) brewing methods and technology spread throughout Europe, the same strong, dark beers continued to be produced, but mostly with malts, hops and bottom-fermenting yeasts deriving from the German, not British, brewing ethos.

Today, the Baltic Porter style is flexible, and can be made as an ale or a lager. NABC’s Solidarity is top-fermented, and brewed for greater unity.

22-oz bombers of Solidarity will be available in Indiana and metropolitan Louisville on the Kentucky side of the Ohio. A limited amount of draft will be allocated, and of course, it can be enjoyed in all forms at NABC’s two New Albanian locations.

Solidarity

Baltic Porter

ABV: 8%

IBU: 30

Color: Burnished mahogany.

Flavor: Medium- to full-bodied, with decided maltiness, no roasted malt flavor, and an elegant, clean character with very subtle hints of fruit.

Compare to: Okocim Porter, Zwiec Porter, Sinebrychoff Porter

Description: Baltic Porter is the surest way to tip your hat to the activists in the Solidarity independent trade union in Poland, and it is a robust reminder of Baltic foresight in activism and strong beer.

Recipe Suggestion: Pour Solidarity from growler or bomber bottle into a heavy glass mug. Slice a kosher dill pickle. Chop onions to garnish kippers that have been laid atop thick, dense rye bread. Consider topping the open face sandwich with slices of hardboiled egg. Eat, drink and explore the primeval.