There are few things in life to which you know you can’t say no: dinner with your mom, a weekend getaway on the beach, and the opportunity to visit Firestone Walker Brewing Co. spring to mind. In fact, when Jamie called to ask if I was interested in joining him and the gang again this year to blend the anniversary beer, I didn’t even let him finish his sentence before saying, “Yes, whatever it is, I’m game.” Now, FSW isn’t in my neck of the woods, but the four and a half hour drive meant I had time to ponder the meaning of it all, recall the memories of last year’s extravaganza, and also soak in some impressive Central California views — desolate and beautiful all the same.

Here’s a thought I had on the way down: There isn’t a better brewery in California, and that can’t be overstated. When you scour the state from north to south and see names such as Sierra Nevada, Stone, Russian River, Anchor, Alesmith, Bear Republic, and more, it means a lot to be considered tops. I’m not saying FSW is “the best” in California, but I am certainly suggesting there is not a “better” brewery in the state. It isn’t as though I’m going out on a limb, either: With two Brewery of the Year awards from GABF this decade, as well as a whole mess of World Beer Cup and GABF beer medals, saying there’s none better isn’t a stretch.

Another thought: As good as FSW’s big beers are (Union Jack, XII), the elusive “Unfiltered Double Barrel Ale” might be the country’s, nay the world’s, best beer. At 5% ABV this beauty has a drinkability that cannot be beat. The beer has texture, aroma, and is full of flavor. I know it’s a hard to find brew, but if you do stumble across it, you absolutely need to order a pint or two. Drink deeply; this isn’t a beer designed for sipping.

Believe it or not, that is my segue to XIII.

Here’s the dirty little secret about being on the blending panel for FSW’s anniversary beers: a monkey could do it. Although we do serious work at the table, when you’re presented with eight barrel-aged beers at Firestone Walker, it’s pretty hard to screw up. Start with Parabola, Opal, Velvet Merkin, Double-Double Barrel, or Bravo as your base and you’re pretty much assured the end product is going to rock. All these beers are impressive on their own and could fetch a shiny penny on the market if ever made available, but the trick to the FSW anniversary beers is the blending of these components to make something jaw-dropping, something you can’t brew in a single batch. These blended beers are masterpieces, fine works of art that require discerning palates, great base beers, and a brewery willing to take the time to do this sort of work. The blending of XIII doesn’t happen in one day, or even two. Instead, the first round of sampling is barrel tasting, then it moves on to an initial phase of blending. We came in after this initial stage, working off the notes to create something a bit more refined. When we were done, Matt had a load of notes and ideas. His task once we left was to create something based on our work, sample it with yet another panel, then do the production blending before it is bottled and shipped out. In short, this is a labor of love that many brewers simply don’t have the time or energy to tackle.

The Blending
Before I started my blends I poured samples of all eight beers on the table. Each one had been aged in barrels and was vastly different from the next. I took very general tasting notes, a few words only that listed the beer’s primary flavor. We weren’t given a particular direction for the project, but I personally was shooting for a beer that was dark, full-bodied, high in alcohol to promote aging, with flavors of coconut and chocolate (my favorite flavors from the beers in front of me). If I could get hints of cherry and blackberry, I’d be even happier. Now, all I had to do was find the right balance — the right combination — and be sure I kept notes of everything I did. It was time to work.

Okay, maybe monkeys couldn’t do this. Pouring beer into small graduated cylinders is a chore, trying to track the percentages of each beer added… that’s just ridiculous. My first blend included 10ml of one beer, 10ml of another, 20ml of a third, and 15ml of two other creations. The resulting beer tasted good, but the resulting interplay of coconut and cherry wasn’t my vision. Additionally, I hoped for a darker color; therefore, it was on to test blend No. 2. This had the dark, near-black color I wanted, with the dominate coconut notes from bourbon barrel aging, but it wasn’t complex and I thinned the body too much for my taste by adding too much of a lower ABV brew. It was right around this time I realized blending on purpose was a bit more difficult than I hoped.

My fourth cylinder of beer was similar to my third, but I’d swapped out one fruity beer with less body for another that was fatter, with a bit more pepper in the mix. I was getting pretty darn close to what I wanted — well rounded, with a great interaction of coconut and chocolate and a hint of pie cherries. At this point, however, I realized the beer wasn’t the boozy concoction I’d set out to create. I wanted a beer that could age for years. I consulted my beer stats and then added 10 percent of the highest ABV brew on the table, which happened to have a lovely barrel quality.

Feeling good about the beer I blended together, I sought to recreate it based on the notes I had, only this time I had to double the quantity in order to have enough for all eight of us at the table to try. Everyone else had done the same work, but the vintners approached blending in a very different manner — often including methods that involved calculators! I don’t want to deviate too much from topic here, but the panel of vintners on hand for this blending had palates I’d rarely experienced. They were concise, could tell you with confidence how flavors would interact, and were intensely curious about how to maximize Firestone Walker’s overall efficiency (something the beer guys weren’t even considering at the time). It was easy to see why Matt uses this crew again and again.

One of the most fascinating things about the day was the fact that regardless of the methodology, we all came up with beer that was remarkably similar. Each of us used the same two beers as the base, in differing ratios, but ultimately resulting in a beer that was dark, fat, and boozy — awesome beers. The panel did not choose a “favorite;” that wasn’t really our job. Instead we all passed on our favorite recipes to Matt, discussed what we were hoping to achieve in our blends, and talked about why we liked each blend. Matt jotted down all the recipes, did a lot of chin-rubbing and calculations of his own, and then joined in with the panel as we imbibed on last year’s anniversary beer, XII, and some treasures provided by Pete Slosberg: bottles of Westvleteren 12 (one and six years old) and his legendary chocolate creations. We added some fabulous homemade bread to the mix and before we knew it, the table converted from a tasting panel to a group of buddies sharing stories, drinks, and noshing on homemade goodies. You can say it was a pretty good day.

As mentioned, the final blend will be Matt’s call, but from what I witnessed there’s little doubt this beer will impress even the staunchest beer geek. With the use of bourbon, brandy, rye, and other barrels, XIII is bound to be something worth buying, worth cellaring, and worth sharing with the closest friends and family for the most special of occasions. While the price tag may seem stiff for a beer, I’ll guarantee it’s worth every penny. Personally, I can’t wait to get my hands on some in the very near future.

About the Beer
This year’s release will be bottled in the next few weeks. As in years past, XIII will be sold in 22oz bottles and will retail for around $20. New this year is the retail packaging, as XIII will ship from the brewery in wooden cases.

taken by Jesse balancing camera on a glass using a point-and-shoot camera

Do you need a thousand-dollar camera to take sexy beer pictures in bars and breweries?

No, but it can certainly help, especially in low light situations. Small point and shoot digital cameras are best suited for outdoor photography — once you bring them inside to a darkened bar, it can be very challenging to get enough light into their small sensors. There are a few tricks you can use to try to overcome these limitations (see below).

I’m on a limited budget, but am interested in upgrading my point and shoot. Is there a used camera that you’d suggest I try out?

Depending on your budget, both Canon & Nikon offer great entry-level single-lens reflex (SLR) cameras for under a thousand dollars. They are aggressively fighting for the market of a mid-level consumer SLR, which means great deals and feature sets for new SLR users. I’d recommend looking at both the new Canon T1i and the Nikon D5000, both of which start at around $900 with the stock lens.

How can I take a picture in a dark bar without using a flash?

Getting a good picture in a dark bar is a function of getting enough light. There are three basic ways to control this: speed (how long the shutter is open), aperture (how big the hole allowing light is), and adding additional light (a flash). A good picture is a combination of these three elements. Since no one likes the jerk taking flash pictures in bar, we don’t want to adjust that.

If you want to increase the time your picture takes, try resting you camera on a pint glass, and telling it to take a long exposure. If it’s a still of a beer, the background will be blurry with action, but the beer will be in sharp [focus]. Try using the timer feature to take the picture, so you don’t have to be touching the camera when you take the picture. (This technique can work with a simple point and shoot camera too!)

If you want to adjust the aperture, that’s a function of the lens attached to the camera. As the aperture gets wider, the depth of field gets shorter. This means that part of the image will be in focus, while other parts will be blurry.

Fun Fact: You already know how to do this with you own eyes. When you squint, you’re making your depth of field bigger by “shrinking the aperture of your eyes” causing them to refocus, and see blurry objects more clearly.

Lastly, you can adjust the ISO, which is the sensitivity of the sensor. But beware — as you turn the sensitivity up, you’ll get more and more of a grainy image. Try playing with it on your camera, since different sensors have different sensitivity levels.

Do you have setting tips for novice beer geeks to get the best pictures from a common camera?

Learn to use the white balance features of your camera, which can easily adjust the overall color tone of your pictures. Since digital film is free, try taking the same picture with each of the settings, then look at them on a computer to see how they affect the final image. Having this set right can save a lot of time and color correcting later. Even the cheapest point and shoot digitals will let you adjust this setting.

For those who have a digital SLR, is there a lens that you consider a “must have,” a lens that will instantly make pictures better?

YES! I highly recommend a portrait prime lens, which is a lens that does not have a zoom. For digital SLRs, this means about a 35mm lens — the equivalent of a 50mm film lens. You’ll end up moving your body to compose the picture instead of zooming in and out, but it’ll allow you to adjust the aperture for shooting in much darker places, and getting higher quality pictures.

Is there an online resource you suggest for learning more about taking great low light pictures?

A: While digital cameras have made photography more and more accessible, there is no substitute for a solid understanding of the basics of a camera. Learning how the interaction of aperture and shutter speed affects your pictures is key for taking your photography “to the next level.”

Lately, I’ve been using Ken Rockwell’s site to help me learn how to use my new camera.

Another great resources is the EXIF data that most digital pictures have. This data records all of the camera’s settings into the picture for recording keeping. When browsing photo-sharing sites like Flickr, you can click the “more properties” link to see just how a photograph was shot, and then try to replicate those settings. Better yet, post a comment and ask the photographer how they got the effect you desire and want to replicate. With digital film’s cost being free, there is no reason not to experiment and learn new techniques wherever you can.

What camera do you use to take the pictures shown on your Web site?

Until a few weeks ago, I was using a first generation Canon Digital Rebel with a 50mm lens, but recently upgraded to a Nikon D90, with a 35mm Nikkor lens. I’m loving my new camera. It has a big screen, making it much easier to evaluate my picture as I shoot, and with its dynamic ISO features and a fixed lens, I’m able to shoot in surprisingly dark places. I’m still learning how to use it, but so far my favorite feature has to be the on-the-fly White Balance settings. I haven’t yet taken it into the San Francisco Toronado to see how it does — they’re my Moby Dick of dark bar photography.

I was recently asked by a friend of my wife’s to help him set up his son with all the needed equipment to make beer at home. I was happy to help, working with local homebrew shops to piece together a simple — very simple — system to make extract beer. It didn’t take long for the son (who I have never met) to break in his new equipment and make his first-ever homebrew, an amber ale. I was sent an email shortly after the first brew day and it seemed as though father and son had a great time. Weeks later, the beer was bottled and shortly thereafter a couple of bottles were passed from the father to my wife for us to sample.

I finally got to this beer over the weekend and while preparing for the tasting I realized, remembered really, what it was like for new homebrewers to give their handmade beer away. My first homebrew was given only to my closest friends, the people who taught me to brew, and some local pro brewers that I respected. I was antsy to hear what they thought, and I knew the beer wasn’t great. I didn’t need the beer to be great, and didn’t dream it would be. I just wanted it to be good. Much was the same for the maker of the homebrew in front of me. I didn’t expect the beer would blow me away, but I was excited about the possibility that this beer could be good — a beer I would drink on a daily basis.

Without going into detail, let me just say this beer was good. It wasn’t great and there were some small flaws that will be fixed with experience. Still, this beer was good. I told this to the brewer, by email, along with some tasting notes. He read it as though I’d just scored the beer a 95 in DRAFT. He was elated. He wasn’t saddened that I didn’t say it was the best out there — he knew it wasn’t — but he was sure he had a good beer at home and just wanted to know that someone else agreed.

The whole experience caused pause for me. It reminded me that the love of beer isn’t about the love of the best beer. It told me that there can be as much joy in a simple, homemade batch of amber ale as there is in the next fashionable extreme beer. It also encouraged me to go back to some of the beers I loved when I first came to craft beer, beers like Anchor Steam and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, Boston Lager and Red Tail Ale by Mendocino. Returning to these has the nostalgia of going back home. These beers are comforting. They’re full of flavor. They’re what beer is supposed to be. None of them knocked my palate for a loop, but all of them were surprisingly thirst quenching.

Sometimes it’s good for us beer geeks to remember where we came from. To return home to the beers that we first loved when we were teething on craft beer. Go back and see if there’s any joy left in the simple pleasure of a cold, well-made craft beer that doesn’t carry 100 IBUs or 10% ABV. If you ever brewed a batch of beer, go back to the first extract recipe you made and try it again (I have half a mind to bring out my old pot and make a batch on my stove top, just for FUN). When you go back, when you retry the beers you once longed for, come back here and let us know what you thought. Was it easy or hard to appreciate a simpler brew? Could you be happy with another, or did you immediately long for something with a bit more flare? Let us know. It’d be fun to compare notes.

Below are the menu items by course, along with a picture of each dish. Enjoy!

First Course

Charcuturie Platter
homemade pork pate infused with Rochefort 8 soaked figs and pistachios, Chimay Red duck rillettes, easter egg radishes,De Ranke Père Noël poached bosc pears, dried apricot and Hanssens Oude Gueuze mustard and with local breads

Petrus Oude Bruin
Affligem Noel

Second Course

From the Earth
poached white asparagus, black truffles, watercress, black trumpet mushrooms, fennel pollen with a Orval emulsion

Orval

Third Course

Kriek Marbled Foie Gras
Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek marinated foie gras tourchon, mache leaf, De Struise Pannepot ‘caviar’, black flaked sea salt, hibiscus Drie Fonteine Oude Geuze Syrup

Chimay Grand Reserve 3L 2001
Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse 2005

Fourth Course

Potato and Leek Soup
purple potatoes pureed with local leeks, Fantôme La Dalmatienne and organic cream

De Ranke XX Bitter

Fifth Course

Duck Braised in Consecration
duck legs infused with Russian River Consecration cooked sous vide with leeks. shallots, thyme, currants, dried sour cherries topped with a duck Consecration demi-glace and almond oil powder

De Dolle Oerbier 2002
Rodenbach Grand Cru

Sixth Course

Pork Belly
Serafin Grand Cru cured Sonoma pork belly with Temptation-pickled brussels sprouts slaw topped with a date, prune & fig Scaldis Noel bbq sauce

Du Pont Avec Les Bons Voeux
De Blaugies Darbyste

Seventh Course

Assorted Belgian Cheeses

Affligem Trappist style, made with beer, cow’s milk
Chimay rind washed with Chimay, cow’s milk
Orval med. soft, Trappist style, cow’s milk
Pate à Chouffe soft rounds, made with a Chouffe, cow’s milk
Petrus med. firm, made with Petrus, cow’s milk
St Bernardus med. hard, made with Watou beer, cow’s milk
Val Dieu Trappist stype, med. hard, made with Val Dieu, cow’s milk
Westvleteren small rounds, made with Westvleteren beer, cow’s milk
Westvleteren softer cheese, not made with beer, cow’s milk
rhubarb and Rodenbach Grand Cru jam, Saucerful of Secrets wort honey, marinated pearl onions, cinnamon & clove smoked almonds, grapefruit zest celery salt and bruges biscuits

Cantillon Iris
Achel Trappist Extra Bruin

Eighth Course

Hop Shoots
lightly blanched tender hop shoots from Moonlight Farms with a bone marrow & Cantillon Iris gastrique

Poperings Hommel Bier

Ninth Course

Moinette & Marin Butter Poached Lobster
sliced on a disc of quail egg pain perdu with Tripel Karmeliet & duck fat aioli and a green herb sauce

Westmalle Tripel
Mauleur Bière Brut

Tenth Course

Cod and Mussel Waterzooi
carrots, spring leeks, baby fennel, fingerling potatoes, Brugse Zot, fish stock and local cream

Dupont Foret

Eleventh Course

Scaldis Prestige Spiked Crème Brulee
and Fresh Raspberries

De Struise T’sjeeses

Twelfth Course

It’s Wafer Thin…
Belgian madelines with orange peel and grains of paradise, Delirium Noel caramel dark chocolate truffle,
Cascade Apricot Ale crème scented with crystallized ginger and candied tangerine peel in dark chocolate shell, Valley Brewing Quad Caramel in milk chocolate truffle
Cantillon Lou Pepe Framboise 2006 injected first of the season strawberries dipped in dark chocolate

De Struise Black Albert
Firestone Walker Saucerful of Secrets 2007

See more pictures on our Flickr page.

(One note: If you’ve homebrewed for a while you likely know of the two most popular brewing applications for the computer: Beersmith and Pro Mash. I have both and am not convinced these current iPhone applications have the goods to do away with the bigger programs.)

I wanted share my findings on three iPhone apps for those interested in having brewing software with you wherever you are. I played with three over the past three weeks: BrewMath, Brew Pal, and Sparge Pal.

Now, BrewMath is technically not a brewing application as it doesn’t allow for recipe formulation. However, it is a very handy tool to have during the brew day with the easiest brix conversion calculator available. You can also quickly estimate IBUs based on hop additions as well as nail your strike temps. Actually, I really like BrewMath for its ease of use and ability to gather data quickly.

The brix conversion in BrewMath, however, doesn’t exactly match the results found in Pro Mash or other online calculators. It’s not off by much, but the results are different. Also, I’m not a big fan on the mash input screen; it’s not intuitive.

David Parker developed both the Brew Pal and Sparge Pal apps, and they should be paired together if you intend on making all-grain batches of brew. The biggest strength of Brew Pal is the easy navigation and input menus — it’s a snap to add your ingredients. I also love the integrated BJCP guidelines for those brewing to style.

Screenshot of Brew Pal

Strikes against Brew Pal are minimal, especially because you can pick it up for under a buck! First, you can’t add dry hopping or zero minute hop additions in the recipes. If you’re like me, that can be frustrating. Also, when inputting hop information you’re not allowed to use decimals. Minor issue. Occasionally it crashes for no reason, too. Luckily it saves the data you’ve entered before failing. Frustrating yes, but still not a deal breaker. Finally, the estimated IBU calculator is slightly off when compared to Pro Mash recipes, but only by a couple points. All things considering, it’s a helluva deal.

I don’t have anything negative to say about Sparge Pal. The input is as easy as you’d want it to be and it’s very easy to read. Oh, it’s free too!

If you’re inclined to geek out when brewing, you’ll definitely want to check these apps out. BrewMath is great for answering questions at the bar, and actually helpful for the random stop at the homebrew shop on your way home. (You do that too, right?). Brew Pal is best for brewdays away from the computer — like group brews. It’s also genius for taking with you to the shop when you need to be sure you get all the ingredients needed.

I’d also recommend getting the BJCP style guides for the iPhone. This free application is fantastic for spontaneous beer tastings with friends, or just to have when you want to know a good commercial example of a lesser-known beer style.

Do you use any of these? If so, I’d love to hear back from you to see what you think. Also, if you’re using a different application, let me know that too — I’m always game for playing with new brew toys.

iTunes Application Prices as of 4/3/09:
Brew Math: $4.99
Brew Pal: $0.99
Sparge Pal: FREE
BJCP Style Guidelines: FREE

Original Sierra Nevada Kettle

Current Kettle

I arrived at Sierra Nevada early on a Thursday morning. Just a couple weeks prior I was called by Steve Grossman, brother of Ken who founded Sierra Nevada three decades earlier, with an invitation to join in on something special: Beer Camp. This two-day event was designed by Steve and others to educate some of the brewery’s top accounts from around the world and included an all-access-pass to the brewery (a pass I tested more than once), an exhaustive lesson in sensory evaluation of beer in a lab setting, as well as the chance to formulate and brew a beer of our own. I would be joined from some heavy hitters from Richmond, Atlanta, and Reno. Better yet, I would be the sole member of the media (In fact, I was the first member of the media to get a peek inside Beer Camp).

Steve’s role at Sierra Nevada is Ambassador for the brewery and he was a fantastic host for the six of us, generous with his time and more than happy to answer any questions we had — no matter how obscure. Steve wasn’t alone, however, as we were hosted by employees in two of the Sierra Nevada labs, brewers at the Pilot Brewery, the Operations Manager for the whole facility, Steve Dressler (Brewmaster), and even the iconic founder Ken Grossman. We felt pretty special.

Ken Grossman and Pilot Brewmaster Scott

A light-hearted orientation came first. Steve recalled stories of starting the brewery — including fanciful recollections of the beer he and his brother stole as youths, the man who taught them to brew (so they’d leave his beer alone), and life back then. It was fun seeing pictures of the men from 30 years ago — a young Ken and Steve Grossman as well Steve Dressler and others who were still with the brewery. It was here that we began to realize there was something more to the brewery than just beer. This wasn’t just a corporation; this was a family! To drive that point home we were soon joined by Brian Grossman, Ken’s son. Sierra, Ken’s daughter, also works at the brewery.

Immediately after our orientation we headed out for a tour of the facility, a vast complex with all sorts of fun nooks and crannies. While walking through a long hallway Steve stopped the group and pointed to the tiles on the wall — turns out they were handmade with pictures of beer and brewery-related scenes. It doesn’t sound like much, and in the scheme of it all it isn’t much, but details like this is what separates Sierra Nevada’s brewery and beer from just about every brewery out there. If they care so much about the custom tiles — if these small tokens of art impress the employees — what do you think their brewhouse is like? We’ll get to that soon.

Our first stop was the big brewhouse, the mash tun to be more specific. Many breweries, big and small, have issues with clutter. Not here. At Sierra Nevada the space around the brewing equipment was pristine with nothing on the floor, dangling from the ceiling, or sticking out from the wall. The room contained a big grain mill and a mash tun, that’s it.

Getting back to details, the grain mill at Sierra Nevada needs to be discussed. They use a hydrating grain mill that gets the goods wet before they are ground, a process that sounds simple, but is costly and rare. In fact, it is believed there are only five such grist mills in the United States, and Sierra Nevada has three of them! Hydrating the grains makes them more pliable and reduces dust and waste, allowing for a greater conversion rate of starches to sugars during the mash process. It’s funny, but when you think of a brewery this size brewing five days a week, 24 hours a day, every bit of efficiency realized means something. For Ken Grossman and the SNBC team, it means they’re getting the most of everything they bring in house — a theme that we learned more about as the tour continued.

The next stop was just across the hallway into the kettle room. For me this may be the sight of the tour, simply because the copper kettles are among the most stunning I’ve seen. I neglected to ask about the copper-polishing schedule, but it has to be more than once a week give how bright the behemoths were. The pictures may look good, but they do little to convey their actual beauty. Of course, the beer they’re brewing has a beauty all its own. We were reminded that Sierra Nevada is the country’s largest brewery that uses whole flower hops exclusively in its brewing, and that this sometimes complicates stuff in the brewhouse. For instance, these kettles were brought over from Germany and were originally manufactured for palletized hops. Because the whole flower hop additions, hops were added by hand throughout the boil. In fact, each of those white trash cans is full of pungent, flowery hops. The other complication with whole flower hops is the liquid loss. Dried hops act as a sponge of sorts and tend to hold onto the liquid more so than palletized hops that disintegrate in the wort. Regardless of what kind of hops go into the kettle, the main point is these are absolutely gorgeous to look at.

I thought our next stop would be a cavernous room with bright, fanciful colors, little people, a river of beer, and candies made of wort, but as much as we felt like kids in a candy store, this was not Wonka’s Public House. Instead we were led to a fermentation room that looked similar to what I’d expect NASAs underbelly to look like. In fact, I did feel a bit alien in the room for no other reason than I’d never anything like it — anywhere. Large, steel cones poked through from the tall concrete ceiling and it took me a while to realize what was wrong with this picture. Noticing my bemused expression Steve was quick to point out that there are no legs on these fermentors; they were simply hovering from the ceiling! These aren’t little fermentors, by the way. We were literally walking beneath hundreds of thousands of pounds (maybe millions) of fermenting beer, and on the floor were no obstacles to avoid. Running up the middle of the logic-defying room was their “pipe-fence” that neatly transferred beers to and from the fermentors. I don’t think this has made any TV show about modern marvels, but holy crap! The engineering that took place to make this room work had to be absolutely incredible.

While in the fermentation room we were treated to something special, something we’d soon get used to. Steve had arranged for the lot of us to be the first non-brewery people to sample the 2009 Summerfest, straight from the fermentor (before filtering!). It was roughly 9:00 a.m, so together we hoisted our plastic cups, becoming giddy as the whole experience sunk in. I wasn’t taking tasting notes, so don’t quote me on this, but damn this was a good beer. A lot more hops than I remember, and still pretty damned clear for having not been filtered.

Did someone say filter? One of the purposes of Beer Camp is to educate, and Steve jumped on this opportunity to discuss Sierra Nevada’s filter policy — one that is young and still developing. For years the brewery filtered its beers using diatomaceous earth, but Steve pointed out that this product had a finite supply. Given the mentality that the brewery should be as sustainable as possible, alternative methods were sought for fining and filtering its beer. After much research the crew opted on the centrifuge method that essentially spins fast enough to separate proteins and solids from the beer, leaving it bright and clear. We never did quite get a handle on this method, even though Steve and the brewers did their best to teach us (they even drew us pictures!). In the end we were content knowing it spun the beer really fast, made very loud popping noises when it cleaned itself, and would most likely kill us if we dared open it up for a better look (sadly, I don’t have a photo of the diagram Scott drew up). The point here is that the brewery’s commitment to sustainable practices had led them in a new direction in the filtering process. Sierra Nevada isn’t the only brewery to use centrifuges, but I do know it’s not a very common practice.

The next phase of our tour didn’t officially happen. We muscled our guide out of the way and took a stroll on the catwalk that spanned the space between buildings. We did this not because we needed fresh air (although that was a welcome bonus), but to get a gander at the new solar array they’ve installed up close and personal. Sierra Nevada takes this whole green movement pretty seriously. They may not jump up and down or yell to the world about what they’re doing, but because of a personal commitment to the environment shared by the Grossman’s and the brewery employees, they make crazy financial investments for one reason: it’s the right thing to do. Sure, they’ll make their money back eventually, but currently Sierra Nevada owns the largest privately-owned solar array in the country. From the catwalk we could see them, thousands of them, black and glistening under the morning sun. In peak season (summer) Sierra Nevada can generate more electricity than it requires, allowing them to sell it back to the energy company. In winter months they’re still able to generate approximately 90 percent of the electrical requirements for all brewery operations. There are very few roofs in America worth mentioning, but this certainly deserves more than a few words.

I know I’ve already made the Wonka reference, but what we did next… well, is simply incomparable.

After making our way, safely, back inside from the catwalk we followed Steve to a contraption that seems developed on napkin notes after a few beers in the wee hours of the morning. They called it a “bike”, and while there were pedals on it (and tires) it had the appearance of a bar and the front end of a dune buggy. There were 12 seats, two taps and one steering wheel. Steve did his best to explain what the motivation was for this work of genius, but we were all too bedazzled by it to pay close attention. What we did know was we were expected to take our seats at the bar and pedal if we wanted this tour to continue. Lucky for us, we were rewarded up front for our labor with a fresh keg of Irish Red Ale (don’t worry, it’s not available outside the brewery).

We all sat facing the middle and one person was selected to bartend. Pedaling the big machine was shockingly easy, thanks to the work of 12 legs working in unison. As we pedaled we cruised around the campus, taking in site after site, taking deep gulps of beer, and trying not to smile too big. Yes, all of us on the bike that day were at work — and work just doesn’t get cooler than this.

Our first stop on the magic bike portion of the tour was in the cellaring warehouse. As you likely know, Sierra Nevada bottle conditions its beers. To properly do this the filled bottles of beer need to be aged at least 10 days to make sure the carbonation is spot on before they’re shipped out. Conditioning the beers requires a constant cool temperature, not cold as to allow the yeast to do its thing without stress. The room is huge, seriously. And from wall to wall were cases, loaded on pallets, stacked on more pallets, of Pale Ale and other SN beers. Seemed straightforward enough for us, so we continued on, pedaling to our last stop of the tour.

We had to park the bike outside the bottling line, and then were asked to don our safety glasses and earplugs. We were told before we entered that Sierra Nevada runs two identical bottling lines simultaneously, a somewhat common practice at larger breweries. The reason was pretty simple: if a part ever failed in one line they would not be without production while the part was fixed or replaced (a lesson learned some time ago when a $1 part broke and put bottling to a halt for a day). It was at this point that Steve said something that resonated with me. In a nutshell he admitted that a lot of the equipment and processes Sierra Nevada has are unnecessary, but work to make the best beer they can. Maybe they didn’t need a second bottling line, but it sure looks good.

The room was a series of moving parts with noises that come straight from a Steinbeck novel. They were bottling Pale Ale and the green labels whirled by from one end to the other of this cavernous building. The line pumps out hundreds of bottles per minute, the labeler moving so fast it’s impossible to read any part of the labels being affixed. Once filled and labeled the bottles race down the line till they come to a holding area that collects the bottles in, creating a sea of green and brown. From here bottles are put in six-packs or cases, then taken upstairs by a fantastical spiral escalator. The whole room was pretty awesome to be in, and the warehouse staff was impressive in their hospitality. While trying to get pictures of bottles the line operator even offered to slow the line down for me — a 180-degree response from what I’d expect in any warehouse.

There was so much more that happened along the way, off-stories from years and years of experience, rooms that held even more magic (like the open fermentor room, a first-hand look at the Torpedo — including samples of the beer from the source), but that will have to wait. Our day was only just beginning and we were pretty awestruck by everything we were witnessing. It was impressive for me to see processes and equipment in play that could easily be mistaken for an industrial brewery, but the people and their collective passion for “their” beer to be the best it can be really drove home the craft and enthusiasm we seen in breweries much smaller than this.

Up Next: Stories of Torpedoes, Labs, and more. Stay tuned.

Case in point: Saturday Beermann’s opened its industrial-sized, roll-up doors for a tasting event I had to attend. The event didn’t have a name, but they poured 10 strong ales that were all brewed on the premises, seven of which were aged in barrels. The youngest beer was just a few months old and the two oldest beers were each brewed in 2002 — I’ll get to those in a second.

Before discussing the lineup, I must put out there the one thing that really struck me while sampling beers, talking with long-time customers and brewers, and generally getting a feel for the occasion. A local brewery is special. We read a lot of posts online about a handful of well-respected breweries — the places we all want to go, the places that put out beers we only hope to find in our region. However, becoming a regular at a local brewery offers something more than flavorful beer and a place to be after work; it offers a community experience rarely found in most watering holes. (Granted, there are a lot of great bars around the country that foster community). The beers poured here weren’t just meant to showcase the brewers’ abilities, they were a celebration of all the brewery stood for, as well as a “thank you” for those who have been supporting the brewery year after year. I know Beermann’s isn’t unique. I’ve been to small breweries in Colorado, Philadelphia, Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and beyond and found the same experiences. My hope is that you find a local that’s worth supporting, a place that becomes more than just another bar with good beer.

On to the beer.

My first beer of the day was an unfiltered double IPA that was brewed just a few months ago. To be honest, the beer could have used a bit more time for the hops to tame as the first sip was an assault on the palate. It was a grassy beer, quite green, with more than a punch of bitterness and a sticky residue that gripped the tongue well after the beer was swallowed. To be sure, this wasn’t a bad beer, not in any way, but I’m certain this brew will only improve over the next six weeks or so.

Up next was a “triple IPA” brewed in 2004. This was quite an experience. The hops must have been huge in this when it was first brewed because there was still a fair amount of hop flavors, bitterness, and even a bit of aromatics. In all, this beer aged wonderfully and seemed restrained, approachable, and clean. The body and texture was also a hit with this beer, creamy and full-bodied without being heavy or overly sweet.

The first barrel-aged beer was a 2006 Bourbon Barrel Barleywine. Honey sweet, viscous, with flavors of raisins, vanilla, and toasted nuts, this beer was complex and playful. The bourbon did seem slightly hushed — something I like in a bourbon barrel beer — and the finish was just a touch sweet.

The 2005 Bourbon Barrel Barleywine had more bourbon character to it: more vanilla, a touch of orange and coconut. It also seemed to have a bit more residual sugars, making the body a bit heavy and contributing to the sweet finish. Still, this was a fun beer to sip on.

The 2004 barleywine never touched wood and was called “Mr. Big.” I’ll just come out and say this was my favorite beer of the day — it was “man candy” if I can borrow a phrase from the guys at Craft Beer Radio. Brown sugar, toasted malts, a dry finish, and a full body that wasn’t cloyingly sweet. This beer proved the brewers at Beermann’s don’t need the boost of bourbon barrels to make an enticing barleywine. In fact, it made me long for more un-oaked vintages.

I was a little surprised with the 2002 Bourbon Barrel Barleywine. It was a few shades lighter in color than the newer versions and less bourbon character. (I appreciated both). This had a lot more caramel and toffee sweetness, a beautiful head, and an overall delicate nature to it; the complexity teetering on becoming unbalanced. When all the tasting was done I was sure I’d be coming back to this.

I skipped the 2003 beer on purpose, and I was happy I did. This year the brewers barreled their “Big Blonde” beer, a light gold beer with a whole lot of alcohol and more oak than any beer here. In fact, this beer was woody from the first sniff to well after the last swallow, masking the beery qualities of the brew (like malt, hops, alcohol). Don’t get me wrong, this was a very fun beer to sample, but I just couldn’t see myself ever sitting down to a full pour.

The last two beers were both brewed in 2002 and showed me things I’ve never seen before in beer. These both began as big barleywines, but one was aged for seven years on tart cherries while the other played long-time host to once-fresh raspberries. For starters, these beers had no barleywine-like qualities, and I don’t mean that as a negative. The raspberry version was full and rich with raspberries in the aroma, which shocked me. Its flavors were slightly tart, winey, and a bit musty — a fantastic explosion of flavor on the palate. As good as the raspberry beer was, the cherry absolutely stole the show. It had a pie-cherry aroma, complete with caramel malts that played up the pie likeness. Flavors were quite sour, very dry, and very easy to drink. Unlike fruited lambics, these beers weren’t necessarily refreshing, but to my surprise they weren’t sweet in any way. At the end of the day, I still preferred Mr. Big to these beers, but there was no mistaking they too kicked all kinds of ass.

Along those lines, the whole day kicked ass. The crowd was full of people who worked at Beermann’s over the years, current and former brewers, bottling line volunteers and people who could be considered stakeholders in the business. Apparently this event was years in the making, an idea spawned by the brewmaster and workers several years ago, but only realized now. I felt honored to be in attendance, it was almost like drinking at a friend of a friend’s house, a place that allowed for a lot of observation sprinkled with casual conversation and little expectation. It was relaxed. It was fun. It was like so many great, small breweries around the world.

View more pictures of the event at our Flickr page.

As I scoured the room I saw at least six people working on their laptops, taking phone calls, and sipping beer. I’m not sure if you caught that; maybe I can put it another way. As I scoured the room I found at least six people sipping beer, working away on their laptops, and taking phone calls. In a land obsessed with the propriety of consumption, I wonder why this hasn’t been discussed more frequently. The gentleman sitting next to me was fielding calls from clients on the other side of the country and talking specs while shooting off emails. He was being quite productive. He was also taking the occasional sip from his tall glass of beer.

I look at this and wonder if the neo-prohibitionists in our land have ever witnessed such a sight, and if they did, what did they see and how different was that from what I saw? The frat-boy, party-scene associated with beer drinkers is still alive and well, perpetuated in family sitcoms, romantic comedies, and online outlets. Why don’t we see these people though? Conversely, why don’t we see ads with dads enjoying a brew with dinner, or moms sharing a bottle of vino with friends?

I don’t have an answer to this. I only found it interesting that I could sit in a bar surrounded by people working to meet deadlines, make sales, write blogs — all while enjoying a fine adult beverage.

We arrived early, around 9:30 a.m. and were both assigned to judge in the first round. In a Valentine miracle of sorts, we were seated just a few spot apart. (We were on different panels though.) Tracy isn’t a newbie when it comes to beer. She grew up on a barley farm in Canada and is proud of the fact her family was able to harvest malt-grade barley year-after-year. Her family has been enjoying fine malt-based beverages for more than a couple decades. She appreciates a good beer as much as the next person and recently took her BJCP exam, just so we could travel to more beer-judging events together (next up: Sam Adams Longshot). With her powerful beer knowledge, I’m certain she did a great job passing along stellar beer. Okay, that about covers the cutesy portion of this post.

With the judging over for the two of us, we were able to jump across the street where the festival was in full swing. As the case with most Toronado events, the bar was standing room only. Tables on the left were occupied by notable figures, such as John Harris of Full Sail, drinks writer Stephen Beaumont, and the crew from Seattle’s favorite bar, Brouwer’s Café. Folks from Portland, San Diego, even the UK were seated at one of the prized tables. More than 100 glasses of beer sat in front of the kids from across the Pond. (These guys don’t mess around!). Getting there early, pacing themselves, and keeping hydrated, a whole lot of people were able to taste each of the more than 50 barleywines available. Sure, there were a few unruly folks — there always are — but the crowd did a wonderful job managing itself and overall the event had a community feel. As always, it was a beautiful thing to see.

With our time among the crowds complete, we stepped out and headed back across the street to play paparazzi and catch the final round of judging. I’ve been around Best of Show panels many times, even have had the privilege to sit on them, but they never get old. Sitting around one large table were highly qualified beer judges sipping samples, taking notes, holding glasses up to the light, and carefully formulating their thoughts about the beer in front of them. With their thoughts collected, the panel began the arduous task of championing their choices. In this round there won’t be any stinker beers, so the arguments had to be compelling and the beer must be a fantastic representation of the style (English, American ,or Barrel-aged barleywine). Balance, complexity, overall enjoyment – these were the factors being dissected at this table. It was a highly entertaining and, yes, tense activity to see.

In the end, two beers from Alaska took top honors, with San Francisco’s own 21st Amendment rounding out the top three. (Firestone Walker won a much-deserved honorable mention.)

After the winners were announced, it was time for the judges to eat! The jambalaya we were served after the judging at Toronado was fantastic, just in case you were wondering. The pitchers of beer allotted for the judging were quickly depleted and merriment soon followed. For those of us who’ve been judging for years, this is when we catch up with old friends — the friends we only see at judging events. Within the hour the majority of judges (most of whom are homebrewers) headed toward Anchor for the annual Homebrew Club of the Year announcements and dinner. I’ve enjoyed several of these homebrew club meetings at Anchor, but this year Tracy and I stayed back to enjoy a few more beers and to spend time with friends in the industry.

It wasn’t long before the judging tables were replaced with washoe boards and another celebration started. I tried my hand at washoes again, but really sucked it up pretty bad. It was only a little embarrassing. No matter, it was still great to sit and watch the pros go at it. (Jay Brooks and Dave Keene were unstoppable!) As the minutes slipped by, the festivities at the Toronado were still going strong and we weren’t about to try and keep up with the folks over there. Instead we opted for dinner, a few more drinks, and a cab ride back to our hotel.

I don’t know what your motivations are for attending a beer festival and I suppose that doesn’t matter, but for me I get so much enjoyment out of the culture we’re developing — a culture that appreciates friendships as much (or more so) than the beer. What Keene has built at Toronado is testament to that community and I hope you’ve been able to witness that firsthand.

View more Toronado Barleywine Festival pictures on our Flickr photostream.

There was also a gentleman named Birk who I met at the dinner. While he likes beer and food, he certainly wouldn’t put himself in the uber-beer-geek category. He wanted to do something “different” for his birthday and while having a pint at his local bar (Toronado), he found out about the dinner. He came and was utterly blown away with the food and how well each dish went with the selected beers. He told me before leaving that he would certainly do something like this again, hopefully with Paxton in the kitchen.

Let’s talk about the dinner for bit. This six-course affair had everything working: the dishes were beautiful, aromatic, flavorful, and perfectly prepared. It started light, sort of, with a warm prawn dish served with lightly dressed arugula. I’ve eaten a lot of prawns in my time and often find they can be rubbery or mushy, but these were crisp and gently spiced. The salad came with a garnish of quail eggs that the Homebrew Chef had aged in a pillow of Simcoe, Amarillo and Cascade hop cones for one week. The porous eggs allowed just a hint of hop flavors and spice to seep into the egg and led to an unbelievably good flavor. In fact, as good as the prawns were, the delicate quail eggs stole the show in this first act. Stunning really. The first course was paired with Pale 31, an assertively hopped pale ale that matched well with the arugula and eggs, which seemed to cut through the hops and made the beer wonderfully creamy.

Up next was the cheese course where Paxton put three delectable fermented dairy products on top of a sweet honey-wort sauce made of Firestone Walker wort (unfermented beer) that was shipped overnight to Sean by Matt Brynildson and then reduced to half, then combined with local Sonoma blackberry honey. The sauce was sensational, but couldn’t steal the spotlight that belonged on the reserve cheese from Point Reyes (Reserve Blue), Yellow Buck Camembert, and Cowgirl Creamery’s Red Hawk. Returning to Paxton’s imagination, the guy had the nerve to pair this dish (with home-roasted nuts and beer-soaked grapefruit) with Union Jack IPA. I was more than a little leery at this pairing, but it worked remarkably well, especially with the Camembert, which had the uncanny ability to cut through the bitter hops to create a delightful palate experience.

At this point my table started chatting. We were impressed by Sean’s ability to make each course better than the last and even more impressed with his ability to make each dish come alive with his personal tales of inspiration and the process he followed to get each plate to us. He clearly wasn’t just pairing a beer with a food item, but was focused on creating a memorable experience for each of us — even though this is a harder road to follow. The effort and thought put into every dish seemed over-the-top, even outlandish, but the results were more than appreciated. It’s safe to say Sean was doing a good job of inspiring those at the table to rethink what food and beer means.

Next up was a dish that I find nearly indescribable, Sean’s deconstructed Reuben sandwich. To begin, Sean found it appropriate to make duck pastrami (no, that’s not a typo). Seriously, duck breasts cooked to perfection with a slightly acidic, smoky taste. Then there was the fresh bread, crisp fermented cabbage, pickled mustard seeds and a topping that consisted of (I kid you not) slow-cooked duck tongues in a duck sauce! The sauce employed four pounds of duck tongues and 10 gallons of stock that was reduced to 1 gallon for the dish. I don’t know what four pounds of duck tongues looks like, but that had to be a sight to see. When Sean announced this not-on-the-menu topping I was admittedly leery, expecting the tongues to be chewy and, well, less than spectacular. I was wrong. The combination of the duck pastrami with, cabbage, bread, and duck-tongue topping created a palate experience that had people begging for more, even though we were getting quite full.

As good as the flavors were in this dish, it was around my fourth bite that I finally understood the genius of Sean Z. Paxton: he gets texture. I know photos can’t convey this, words won’t do it justice either, but along with exceptional flavors we all expected in a great dinner, Sean gave us texture in every bite. Tender meats, crisp veggies, chewy breads, creamy cheeses, and sparkling fruits all created something more than just great flavors, they provided memories. Very good memories, too.

NEXT!? Sean, are you kidding me? I’m about to waddle like that duck in his prime here…

Next Sean did something I’m sure you’ve thought of doing with a Russian River beer at home: blending it with liquid nitrogen. What’s that you say? You were going to do that last night, but you were fresh out of liquid nitrogen AND Russian River beer? OK, so none of us are likely to make this dish at home, nor will we likely see it anytime soon at any local or chain restaurant, but trust me when I tell you this rocked in every way. For starters Paxton made this himself, table-side, for everyone in attendance (a type of flair you can’t find anywhere else). On top of the excitement the presentation generated, this sorbet-type-thing was sensational and made short order of cleansing palates. Unreal.

Sean disappeared back to the kitchen, which could only mean we weren’t done.

Have you gotten the impression that every dish Sean prepared was better than the last? If not, I should just point out that was the basic sentiment felt by everyone. At this point, we wondered if Sean could actually pull out one more magic bullet. Silly us.

Our next plates arrived with something straight out of a magazine: veal cheeks braised in porter. At this point I have run out of ways to say just how good this plate really was, except to say it brought an entirely new meaning to the trope “melt in your mouth.” Because of the way Sean cooked the veal, there was simply no need for chewing; just enjoy as the savory, sweet meat fell apart in your mouth. Again, his ability to play with the textures in the dish couldn’t be overstated.

Right about now I have a bittersweet feeling. I was getting extremely full, feeling happy and satisfied, but the event was a roller coaster for the palate and I wasn’t quite ready for the ride to end. End it must, however, and for dessert Sean plated cake made with Velvet Merkin and chocolate next to two chocolates filled with Firestone Walker XII caramel (you read that right) served with THREE beers: XII, Saucer Full of Secrets, and Velvet Merkin. The dessert was lovely, the beers off the hook. Sean poured us the Saucer Full of Secrets himself, relaying the story that the beer was the original homebrew he got to brew on Firestone Walker’s big system. Again, Paxton made the meal come alive, giving us more than good tastes and a full belly.

This was a dinner that will not soon be forgotten.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the great service and pacing the meal had. The kitchen staff was made up largely of beer bloggers and friends of the Homebrew Chef, and they kicked ass with the platings and their ability to get the food out to all of us in a timely manner. Very courteous folks poured the beers at the table, and the whole staff made each of us feel welcome and wanted. What a treat it was for everyone there.

I don’t know when or where the Homebrew Chef will pop up next — could be back in San Francisco, it may be back in Lovell, Maine, but if you ever see him coming to a town near you I suggest you save up and make a Homebrew Chef dinner something you experience first-hand. When you do, be sure to check in with us and tell us what you think of Sean Z. Paxton.

Check out more pictures at our Flickr feed!