No, the hymn doesn’t provide specific malt measurements, but it does mention familiar beer ingredients like water and grain. In fact, beer probably came about from baked grains (a sort of dough, porridge, or bread) that were wetted with water (which released sugars in the grain, making it sweeter) and left out for storage. Enter wild naturally occurring yeasts, and the concoction becomes an early, albeit strange, beer. In those days, there were no hops to be found, so spices, fruit (like dates), honey, and herbs were added to make the funky beer more palatable.
Beer happened all over the globe to many types of grain that were used to make dough or other mash: in China it was wheat, in Japan it was rice. Everyone found a way to turn the gift of harvested grain into a happy beverage.
Beer soon became a thing of ritual throughout history. The beverage is sometimes even given props as the savior of humanity. Without safe drinking water, beer often became the only sanitary beverage around. It was a choice between beer-o’clock around the clock or water that offered a cholera or dysentery bonus. And beer’s ingredients made it a substantial food at times. Beer has a lot of minerals, fiber, and antioxidants, which added a huge health benefit to the diet of early civilizations. There is also an argument that beer played a part in people’s settling down to plant and harvest instead of roaming and hunting. The idea being that as soon as they found beer, they stopped in their tracks and began planting and harvesting grains for the revered beverage. Sounds logical to us.
Beer even shows up in the first set of laws. Around 1780 BCE, Hammurabi created his code (in which is the origin of the famous “eye for an eye” punishment) and included in it rules for fairly pricing beer. He places responsibility for this on the tavern keeper (sometimes referred to as female). If the beer was overpriced, the tavern keeper would be drowned (Hammurabi was a bit of a hard-ass).
The Egyptians have been praised for their reverence of beer for centuries. Pharaoh Rameses II had a large brewing operation during his reign. Their god of beer was Osiris, and beer became a huge part of ritual in their society. Beer was offered as a fine gift to pharaohs, priestesses, and gods and was included among the possessions of those entering the afterlife (“Here’s to your ghost” was a popular toast). It is thought that in Egyptian culture, if a woman drank beer offered by a man, they were then married (think of all the people you’d be married to if that were still true, ladies). Beer was also used as medicine to treat patients and sometimes as payment for laborers instead of money.
Around 330 BCE, beer moved from Egypt to the Greeks, who had mainly been wine drinkers. The Greeks called their beer Zythos and were slow to embrace beer with open arms because they associated the drink with less-refined segments of society. The Greeks most likely taught the Romans how to brew. Romans are known for their love of wine, but they happily added beer to their beverage list. Our modern word beer comes from the Latin bibere, which means “to drink.” Pliny the Elder, a prolific Roman who wrote on many subjects, included notes on beer in his works. Julius Caesar was said to be a fan of a good brew, and legend tells that he toasted the crossing of the Rubicon with a cup of ale. The Romans then probably passed their beer recipes on to the Britons around 55 BCE, and the Britons would grow to love it more than wine.
The early Christians really took to beer. The monks got into brewing and found a certain calling, so to speak. The monastery was often the brewery and inn of the olden days. Pilgrims passing through town were offered a pint and a room by the monks as a respite from their journey. Beer in medieval times was a currency, sometimes used as a payment or tax. While good beer was considered a gift from the heavens, bad batches of beer were seen as the devil’s work because the science of beer was not yet fully understood. In the 1500s, women were burned if they were thought to be brew witches, satanic souls who were responsible for bad beer (can you imagine a man tasting the beer, declaring it was sour, and then perusing the drinking crowd for a poor lady who would be deemed responsible?).
The Pilgrims included beer among their necessities, and running out of beer was one of the deciding factors for stopping at Plymouth Rock, as we learned from William Bradford’s History of Plymouth Plantation: “We could not take much time for further search, our victuals being much spent, especially beer.” Female Pilgrims homebrewed for the family, using whatever ingredients they could find in the new land. Native Americans introduced corn to the Pilgrims, and this became a useful ingredient when barley was scarce.
During the 1500s, hops started to be regularly added to beer, and recipes began to take on more variety. (Though hops had been used for a long time in certain parts of the world, it wasn’t yet commonplace or required.) With hops, beer got better (fewer beer witches were burned, thank God). The hops were revered for their preservative quality, and the hopped beer started to replace the beer made with gruit, an herb mixture used to flavor beer. As some countries tried to hold on to the tradition of hop-free beer, the public found new love for the drier drink. The Germans, as we mentioned in Chapter 1, passed the famous Reinheitsgebot, requiring all beer be made with only malt, water, and hops (they didn’t know about the details of yeast yet). The Germans also began to lager beers, storing the beer at cool temperatures and creating a style that would become the new favorite. In the 1840s, the first Pilsner was born in Plzen, Bohemia, and the lager style flourished. In America in the 1800s, the influx of German immigrants brought with them new styles, like the Weiss beer and the lagering method of fermentation. Americans soon began to brew these lighter styles instead of the common Porter of the time.
In 1876, Louis Pasteur brought beer forward by describing the basis for fermentation in his work Etudes sur la Bière (Studies on Beer). In it, he determined that beer was fermented not by chemicals but by microorganisms—that is, yeast. He noted that bacteria, mold, and wild yeast were often responsible for the sour beer that plagued France and other countries. With this new understanding, he and other scientists began to refine techniques that could contain impurities like bacteria, and thus quality control for beer could be effectively implemented. The process of killing such bacteria and stabilizing beer would come to be known as pasteurization.
As brewers began to understand how temperature and bacteria affected their brewing process, lagers and ales could be shipped, and beer became an even bigger business. When the Industrial Revolution gave birth to improvements in road and railway transportation, and with the invention of automatic bottling, a beer could be shipped far and wide. In the 1870s, Adolphus Busch perfected a design for double walled railcars that could keep the beer cool using ice.
By 1880, there were more than 2,000 breweries in the United States alone. Compare that to the early 1990s, when five breweries produced almost 90% of the country’s beer, and you can see how competition increased and circumstances changed for beer in our country. One of these circumstances was economic. World War I and the Great Depression made quality ingredients for beer hard to come by, and this is when a lot of lower-quality adjuncts like corn and sugar entered the beer scene in a big way. And the start of Prohibition in 1920 didn’t help things (everything good is forbidden at some point in time). This forced many breweries to shut their doors due to a lack of business.
After Prohibition was repealed in 1933, only 160 breweries survived in America. The beer that emerged in modern times was the pasteurized lager, and the companies that mass-produced this beer made huge profits. Around 1960, Budweiser was selling around 10 million barrels a year. Pasteurized light lager was popular in many countries other than America; it remained the dominating beer in the business. By the 1970s, about 44 breweries were operating in America.
The craft/microbrew revolution began in 1976 in Sonoma, California, at a brewery called New Albion, founded by a passionate homebrewer. Though this brewery lasted only six years, it set fire to other homebrewers, who began to follow suit and open small operations. The 1980s were a time for microbrew pioneers (and big hair and shoulder pads), experimenting with styles far more varied th
an the light lagers dominating the market. The late 1990s were good for American craft beer, as breweries gained in profit, and by 2000, there were about 1,400 breweries in America.
PROPS TO PLINY
One of our favorite historical beer-geeks is the honorable Pliny the Elder. Perhaps you recognize his name because of Russian River Brewing’s beloved Double IPA of the same name. But have you ever asked yourself, “Why the hell is that beer named after a dead old Roman?” Well, Pliny the Elder, aka Gaius Plinius Secundus (you can see why he chose a street name), was a man of many talents. Born in 23 CE, he was an author, advocate (lawyer), officer, philosopher, botanist, procurator, historian, and naturalist. And in his spare time he wrote an encyclopedia. Pliny wrote about pretty much everything he could, documenting all that he saw and trying to understand in depth the world around him. So what does this have to do with beer?
While he took a break from all of his other exploits, Pliny gave hops its proper botanical name, Humulus lupulus, which translates to “wolf among weeds,” no doubt in reference to the bitter bite of hops. Russian River pays homage to the man with its super-hoppy beer. It also has a bigger hop-head beer called Pliny the Younger, who wrote about the life of his uncle, Pliny the Elder.
Pliny the Elder was also one of the first people to examine the effects of terroir on winemaking, pointing out to many for the first time that the soil affected the vines and therefore the grapes and wine itself. He famously stated, “Truth comes out in wine.” Though many of his other findings were not scientifically sound (he was restricted by his times, of course), he made a mark on the history of beer and wine and should be lauded for his attention to these coveted drinks.
Pliny the Elder died in the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 CE; it is said that he tried to save people from the flowing lava. A great man to the bitter end, so to speak.
Today the craft beer world is thriving in America and abroad. Craft beers are available at grocery and liquor stores and are showing up in bars and restaurants all over the globe in big numbers. Though the mammoth breweries still reap high sales of light pasteurized lagers, the business of craft beer sees a steady rise each year, and beer drinking among both sexes and many different age groups grows annually. The history of craft beer’s revolution has only just begun ...
Laying Plans: Criteria for a Great Beer
Now that you are undoubtedly impressed by beer’s grand history, it’s time to carry that weight by creating your own criteria for evaluating this ancient, beloved beverage. No pressure, we’re not requesting an essay of 400 words or less. No need to attempt to write out a fivepage outline for beer tasting, or a Haiku about hops (but if you do the latter, please send it to us!). We just want you to know a good thing when you drink it. This is up to you and your palate, of course. After all, you are going to have preferences of style and flavor that will differ from those of other beer lovers, but you may find as you go that many agree on what makes for an exceptional beer. Those who have been tasting for years can have wonderful insight into the quality of each brewer’s creation.
We’re offering up our favorite terms that we use to describe great beer. To us, these are balance, quintessential, unique, iconic, and rare. You may come up with a whole different set of guidelines—and more power to you—but we find that most beers we give an A+ to will deserve to be in at least one, if not several, of these categories.
Balance
Balance is admired in food and wine and, yes, beer. This balance is a balance of flavor components. The sweetness of the malt must be balanced by some drying or bitter hops, the alcohol must not be too overbearing, the carbonation should be at a perfect point for the beer. Needless to say, it takes many batches of brew to achieve this kind of success. And it may take brewers years to achieve the kind of balance they want in one particular recipe. Of course, sometimes you crave super-sweet, super-bitter, super-sour, and other extremes; you aren’t always necessarily looking for balance in these instances. We’re referring to the moments reserved for beers that blend all of the flavors and ingredients together into a seamless experience. It’s like when an outfit comes together—when you’re wearing the dress, it’s not wearing you; when the tie is not too loud but classic. These beers offer a subtlety, in which different flavors are present but one doesn’t overtake the other. These are the beers you want when you want the best.
For us, a balanced beer often means it finishes dry, without being bitter, leaving your palate clean and ready for more drink or food. This is somewhat subjective, however, because dry in the wine world has become a description of the best as well. People seem to admire a drink that keeps the sweetness in check, one that has a nice backbone of tannins without being too astringent or bitter. Of course one’s sensitivity to bitterness varies widely; sometimes we’ll offer someone a beer we would describe as dry, and they find it too bitter. This means their sensitivity to hops is high, either because they are new to the flavor or because they just prefer a sweeter or crisper beer. But even among sweet beers, one can strike more of a balance in comparison to others.
Balance can even apply to a hoppy IPA if the bitterness is married with a nice fruity malty background, balancing out the bitter. Every style can have an element of this balance. Sometimes it means that the complexity of flavors is almost impossible to name, simply because they come together so well. Beers that aren’t balanced often present their ingredients separately on your taste buds. The flavor of the malt, hops, and yeast are all present, but they stand apart rather than overlapping with each other. This isn’t bad, but it’s not balanced and, therefore, not great. Again, there are times when you just want to taste hops or sweet chocolate; although we acknowledge such extremes, we wouldn’t count beers like that among the elite. Here are some beers that have achieved balance:
ORVAL TRAPPIST ALE : Brasserie d’Orval S.A., Villers-devant-Orval, Belgium. It doesn’t get much better than this: a perfectly balanced, über-complex Trappist beer. Spice, subtle fruit, a touch of sour, earthy, bone dry. 6.9% ABV.
RUDRICH’S RED SEAL: North Coast Brewing Company, Fort Bragg, California. Just the right amount of juicy, bitter hops and ripe fruit. Our go-to beer. 5.5% ABV.
ANVIL ALE ESB: AleSmith Brewing Company, San Diego, California. An American-style ESB that’s full of flavor but balanced. Rich toasty malt with just the right amount of a hop backbone. 5.5% ABV.
TROIS PISTOLES: Unibroue, Chambly, Quebec, Canada. A Belgian-style Dubbel with dark raisin, spice, and bread. The alcohol is well hidden, and the hops dry it out perfectly. 9% ABV.
Quintessential
To us, quintessential means a beer that perfectly fulfills its style, as in the quintessential Kölsch or the quintessential American IPA. This doesn’t mean it’s necessarily, though it often is, our favorite within a style, but it is the beer that we think best represents the original intention, the tradition, the history of that style. It represents the essence of the style. This is important to us because we find that many people spit out a beer simply because they are comparing it to a completely different style of beer. Some people will drink a British Pale Ale and call it bland because it is not as hoppy as an American IPA; others try a traditional sour Gueuze and make a mean face because it’s not sweet like the Lambics they’re used to drinking. Yes, you may have a personal preference, but it’s important to recognize that the brewer’s intention, based on the style, is different. Otherwise, it’s like comparing Pollock to Titian, The Godfather to Caddyshack, Hunter S. Thompson to Jane Austen—all great, but extremely different and from different genres. If you judge a beer with the style in mind, you may find that your appreciation of the style will grow. Finding a great representation of your least favorite style may change your mind about that style.
Oftentimes the quintessential beer within a style will be found in the country of its origin. The quintessential Rauchbier will most likely be found in Bamberg, Germany; the quintessential Abbey Ale, in Belgium. But because yeast and hops and malt can be shipped arou
nd, it is possible that the quintessential beer of a style is far from its origin. All being fair in beer, Americans can replicate an English beer to a tee if they choose to and possess the skill. And comparing one country’s creation against the other, within style, is acceptable. Just know the guidelines for a style and be aware of the brewing tradition if you want to find those beers that are quintessential. If the Hefeweizen is a true Bavarian style, look for the traditional banana and clove esters, the touch of sour; don’t judge it by the guidelines for a Saison. Speak the truth, find the essence. Here are a few quintessential brews:
WEIHENSTEPHANE RHEFEWEISSBIER : Brauerei Weihenstephan, Freising, Germany. The classic German Hefeweizen with traditional notes of banana and clove. 5.4% ABV.
RACER 5 IPA: Bear Republic Brewing Company, Healdsburg, California. Our favorite West Coast American-style IPA; beautifully balanced, fresh bitter hops, wonderful notes of fruit. 7% ABV.
TRAPPIST WESTVLETEREN 8 : Brouwerij Westvleteren, Westvleteren, Belgium. The perfect Belgian Dubbel. Flavors of dark fruit, bread, and molasses. Unfortunately, hard to get. 8% ABV.
SAISON DUPONT: Brasserie DuPont spr, Tourpes-Leuze, Belgium. The most famous and often most favorite Belgian Saison or farmhouse ale. Dry and peppery, with a touch of earthy sourness and citrus. 6.5% ABV.
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