Pivní Filosof - Beer Philosopher

On the importance of knowledge

2013-06-17T11:35:00.000+02:00

I've been thinking for awhile about beer knowledge and its importance. It's something that started going around my mind ever since I drank that Otley 08. I had almost forgotten about it until 2D2dspuma and Beervana somehow dealt with the subject a few weeks ago.

The question I have now is not only whether it is important to know about beer in order to be able to appreciate and enjoy all its diversity, but also whether all this thing about beer knowledge isn't a bit overrated when it comes to the experience of the consumer.

A bit over two years ago, I helped the then Chef at Celeste to put together a beer dinner. They guy drawn the basic outline of the 7 course menu and, based on that, I brought a bunch of beers from which we would choose the ones that would pair with each of the courses.

The remarkable thing was that, despite his relationship with beer being that of a casual consumer, the Chef had no problem to appreciate the, sometimes nuanced, differences of the beers that we tasted, without the need of any explanation on my part (in fact, after this experience, which he enjoyed a lot, I don't think this excellent cook was much the "wiser" about beer as it was before). Granted, as a Chef flavours are his livelihood and therefore, his palate it's well trained to pick certain things that most of us might miss. But that's not based on any X-Men-like mutant superpower, but on paying attention on what's in the glass.

Paying attention to what's in the glass, that's all there is. If you get a beer "double-blind", i.e. without having any information about style or even brewery, your senses will be more than able to determine if you like the beer or not; and if you like it and want to drink it again, the name and where to buy it is all the information you would need. How was the beer brewed, by whom, where and what with is information that your senses don't need. In conclusion, you don't need to know fuck all about beer in order to appreciate what you are drinking.

Of course, there are people who do not agree with that. Joan, from Birraire, in a comment on a loosely related post, said that he had been able to enjoy more a beer that he had found very strange after knowing its ingredients. Good argument, no doubt, but I believe it's confusing a bit correlation with causation.

I find spontaneously fermented and other traditional sour beers fascinating because of their history, traditions and processes, and I understand why there are people who are their fans. However, and though I have enjoyed a few sours, I'll never be among them as many of the ones I've drunk ended up reminding me of Czech lagers gone off*.

The opposite happens with Svijanský Rytíř, still one of my favourite beers despite having learned that it's brewed with tetrahop and allegedly with HGB. I liked the beer a lot before knowing this, and I'd be dishonest with myself if this relationship had changed after getting this info. What we have in both cases is the senses predominating over the intellect.

But back to Joan. What would've happened if that strange thing in that beer (which I assume he was enjoying) had been the result not of an unusual ingredient, but of a contamination? He would have probably changed his opinion of the brewer, but not of the beer he was drinking and liking. The intellectualisation resulting from the information on those ingredients didn't suddenly improve the beer, it helped Joan understand what was that he found so attractive and understanding is, by itself, something satisfactory, but at another level.

And here is the key! "Understanding". There it is when knowledge about beer becomes useful and important. It can help us understand why we like (or don't like) a beer, which in turn helps us have a better criteria when it comes to making a purchase decision, minimising the risk of buying a well polished turd. In conclusion, knowledge helps us choose better, and choosing better helps us to enjoy more.

It's important though, that this knowledge doesn't generate false expectations (or, in some cases, prejudice). When Schneider came out with their TAP X, I was expecting something like TAP 5 (Hopfen-Weisse), but with the characteristic notes of the Nelson Sauvin hops that I had so much liked in other beers. In the end, the beer disappointed me (the fact that it was considerably more expensive than the other one didn't help things, either). That knowledge didn't make my experience more pleasant, and it might have been an obstacle for that.

Here is one of the problems of intellectual knowledge. Many times the lead us to overly simplified conclusions that are themselves based on a good dose of ignorance. Many of your are probably able to identify different hop cultivars, and you may even have some favourite ones. But how many know how well your favourite hops work with different sorts of malts, let alone yeasts or processes? For that, of course, it'd be necessary to know quite a lot about malts, yeasts and processes and how each of them can affect the quality and character of a product, something that is well beyond the knowledge of most of us.

The results in a sort of over dependence on the word of experts. That is not itself the problem, there's nothing wrong in listening to people that know more than you; the problem is that, on the one hand, many of these experts turn out to be not quite so, and on the other, that often this "experts" are people with some vested interests and agendas who will spread the sort of information (if not disinformation) that will best fit those interests. (e.g. the bollocks that unfiltered beers are by default better because the "evolve").

But all this shouldn't discourage us to keep on seeking and demanding information. Valid information, concrete: figures and data without any false esotericism. What we must bear in mind, though, is that nothing can replace the knowledge acquired empirically. You can read the best books, magazines and blogs, you can go to talks, presentations and guided tastings (though you'll be wasting your money with those), but, and as long as you pay good attention to what you have in the glass and trust your senses and ability to learn, nobody will be better than you when it comes to determining whether a beer is good.

Na Zdraví!

PS: The strongest case for knowledge are, perhaps, serving temperatures. But they is usually something received as an almost absolute truth with hardly any questioning, when the fact is that it is still largely based on personal preferences.

*This reminds me of that brilliant line in that brilliant satire "Sh!t Beer Geeks Say": "That's hideously infected - unless it's a lambic, in which case it's awesome!", which is a great of the way prior information can influence and affect what our senses when evaluating a beer. But that's another topic altogether.

Monday Musings

2013-06-10T08:34:00.001+02:00

In an interview with Brooklyn Magazine, where he mostly talks about the 25th anniversary of his brewery, Garret Oliver, when asked about the "craft vs crafty" controversy, answers with the following:

“My outlook on it is somewhat philosophical. Am I annoyed? Yes. It’s very annoying to see people who are not you walking around dressed as you and claiming to be you, essentially, and using the advantages they have to try to get people to think, “beer is beer, it’s all the same,” etc. What I say to people is, take the big breweries, and anyone, anyone in the room I’m in, sometimes hundreds of people, can you name the brewmaster? Anyone got a name? No, there is no name. There’s no name. There’s nothing but money. And money moves, and this liquid moves around the world, and there’s nothing but money. If you want to understand what it’s about, it’s about money. And we are about something else.”

Let's not discuss the "craft vs crafty" thing, because by now it should be clear to anyone what it is all about. There are two things in that answer that caught my attention. The first one is that being able to name the brewmaster thing, as if it was something important. It bloody isn't!

As I've already mentioned, craft reweries started to use the figure of the brewmaster as a marketing tool is a way of compensating for the lack of proper terroir, but I might have been wrong. I think it's compensating for something else they lack, especially those from countries with not much of a brewing tradition to speak of, or those who want to distance themselves from the prevailing one in their markets: heritage.

This isn't intended as a criticism, it's not a shortcoming or a disadvantage in any way; it's a fact. If you look at the biggest and/or most renown craft breweries these days, even those who have been around for several decades, you'll notice that those companies are still run basically by the same people who established them. There hasn't been a passage of generations that would create that heritage. So, in a way, the face of the brewmaster, who will often be also one of the founders, replaces that. It's good marketing, it gives the company a more human face. It's a kind of marketing that I quite like, since the person who knows the beer better than anyone else should be able to engage with the consumers better than a spokesperson, but it's nonetheless marketing, not too different than having an ancient date printed on a label; and it's something that doesn't add any value to the beer. I had a great time the other day with Václav Berka, but that experience didn't affect in any way my opinion about the beer or the brewery.

What bothers me about Oliver's answer, though, is that it implies that being able to name and recognise its brewmaster will make a brewery better, that it makes it more worthy of respect. What a load of bollocks! Let's take for example, Polička, Schneider, St. Bernardus and Samuel Smith. Hardly anyone knows the names of their brewmasters, and even fewer people care. Those breweries have heritage, they have a continuity (albeit interrupted in the Czech case) and therefore, the consumer doesn't need to know who is in charge of making the beers, they expect the beers to be good because they trust the company that makes them.

Which brings me to why Oliver is missing the point so much. A brewmaster is one of the most important people in a brewery, if not the most, there's no arguing that, but he or she can be replaced. If Oliver decided to retire tomorrow, there's not technical reason why that should affect the quality of the beers; all the company would need is someone familiarised enough with the recipes and the equipment, which, I believe they already have. (what effect that would have in the way the company is run, that's another thing) and nobody would notice the change.

In conclusion, knowing the name the brewmaster of a given brewery means jack shit as far as the quality of the beer and the brewery is concerned. That leaves us with the second thing: money.

This is perhaps the part of the craftophile discourse that irritates me the most. That widespread belief, based on lies and hypocrisy, that craft brewers are not commercial, that making money is not the reason why they have a brewery.

Regardless of what made someone set up a brewing company, the truth is that anyone who does something for a living is doing it for money. They might love their job, feel really passionate about it, or whatever, but if they weren't earning enough money by making/selling beer, they would be forced to do something else. If their main drive was their love of beer, then they would still be home brewers, selling their production in order to finance their hobby.

On the other hand, this is especially disingenuous coming from someone whose beers have national distribution and are exported to several countries. If sheer financial gain isn't behind that, then what is it? Not that there is anything wrong with that, mind you, quite the opposite! What's bad is that someone as intelligent as Oliver feels it's necessary to come out with crap like that. He's well aware that a large part of beer geekdom is composed of people for whom riches and success lawfully attained after a lot of hard work is something to be frowned upon. I really don't understand those people, they are like teenage fans of indie bands who, after the object of their affections make it big and become mainstream, will accuse them of "selling out". That is already quite stupid all by itself, but it's even worse when it comes to brewers. How can people whose day job is to make beer and/or manage brewing companies be accused of selling out and loosing credibility? But don't come to them with those arguments. Their minds seem to be so fucked up that they believe that someone who does something "just for the money" has a somehow lower moral stature, than someone who is following their dream.

The problem is that they have their hopheads so high up their asses that they fail to see the most basic reality - a company needs to produce a certain turnover to at least stay in business, let alone make a profit and grow. That requires planning, budgeting, accounting, etc; and the bigger that company gets, the more complex all that will become. And that's why it is money that is running the show.

Perhaps it is that they believe that setting up a brewery should privilege idealistic home brewers, and that someone's doing it because they see it as a prospective business or, even because they want to cash in on a fad will ruin beer. Why should we give any fucks whatsoever about why someone decided to start brewing commercially? Yeah, stories of dreams followed and whatnot are nice and even inspiring sometimes, no one's denying that. But we should judge a brewery by the beers they make and not by the motivations of its owners. As far as I am concerned, if a brewery is able to offer me the sort of beer I will want to drink, I will be more than happy to give them my money. What the owners of that company will later do with that money is none of my business, nor should be anyone's.

Anyway, good beer is able to stand on its own two feet and speak for itself, it doesn't need any egos, personality cults or redundant bollocks to support it.

Na Zdraví!

PS: I don't think I need to explain myself, but just in case. I've got nothing against Garret Oliver or his brewery, I haven't had the chance to meet him in person or to taste his beers. In fact, I believe he has worked really hard to get his company where it is now, for which he deserves some respect. Besides, he's not the only who has said bollocks of this caliber; Greg Koch, founder of Stone has recently come out with a similar sort of nonsense.

Interview in Pilsen

2013-05-31T18:34:00.000+02:00

Last Wednesday I was assigned by the magazine Beer Connoisseur to go to Pilsner Urquell to interview Václav Berka and I had a great time.

Berka, of course, is pretty well known personality here, almost a celebrity, in fact. He's the most visible face of the most iconic Czech beer brand and he's a pretty cool bloke! He showed me around the brewer, starting with the maltings, which aren't open to visitors, and he let me peek into the decoction kettles, something that visitors don't get to do, either. All while he answered to all my questions. Thanks to it I was able to learn a few things I didn't know.

The bottling line has a capacity of 1m bottles/day, and it's used not only for Pilsner Urquell, but also for Gambrinus and Kozel, which is brought by tank lorries.
In 1913, Pilsner Urquell was brewing 1 million hl, today production is bit less than 2 million.
There's a curious story about the establishment of Gambrinus. Urquell was already quite successful in the late 1860s and group of investors from the local German community wanted to compete making a beer as similar as possible. For that, they wanted to have the same water source as PU, so they decided to build their brewery next door. To prevent any objections from Urquell, in their building permit application they said the intended to build a distillery.
In 1913 there were four large breweries operating in Pilsen. Besides Urquell and Gambrinus, there were Prior and Světovar, that opened that year. Gambrinus would buy (and shut down) those two, and in 1932 they would merge with Urquell.
The maltings produce 85,000t a year. Most of that is used by PU, the rest goes to Kozel and Gambrinus. Radegast, the other brewery of the group, has its own maltings.
Pilsner Urquell was first filtered at the end of the 19th century in response to the competition. The owners were adamantly against filtering, but they had no choice but to vow to the trend in the market and started to filter some of the production to satisfy the demand. This is interesting because it is the exact opposite to what happens today and Berka was wondering when will the tide turn once more.
The cellar complex is 9km long and and it's always pretty chilly in there.

The best thing of the whole day, by far, was to share a few beers with Berka in the cellars, right next to the wooden barrels. We talked for over an hour, not only about Pilsner Urquell, but also about pubs, beer in general, beer culture and shared a few stories, too; it was almost like starting a casual chat with a stranger at an old school pub.

Of all the chat, what made me think the most was the importance Berka gives to the way the beer gets to the patrons at a hospoda, how much he knows about the subject and how much he wants to improve all that. He wants to implement a system to reward and motivate those who see that the beer reaches the glass in the best possible conditions.

Some of you will say that all that is marketing and PR, and you will be right to some extent. However, we must not forget the old Czech saying "Sládek pivo vaří, hospodský ho dělá" (beer is brewed by the brewer, but made by the pub owner). There's so much truth in that! As I said a few weeks ago, to me, a beer is not fully made until it gets into my glass. That is where all the bollocks end. All the stories, the words, the marketing, the passion, the debate about filtering/pasteurising or not will mean fuck all if I get a beer in bad shape. There should be more small brewers who pay more attention to this part of the process, which is perhaps the most critical of all.

My opinion of Pilsner Urquell has not changed since last October. It's still not my favourite and I don't like the company that makes all that much. But there is no doubt about the attention they give to some details, something that deserves praise and should be an example to many of those who consider themselves craft brewers.

That aside, though, having the chance to meet and share a few beers with someone like Václav Berka was a great experience, one of the most interesting I've had as a beer writer/blogger.

Na Zdraví!

This week in the Prague Post

2013-05-24T10:49:00.001+02:00

Gambrimus nepasterované. A new ad for Staropramen. Heineken CZ promoting Krušovice Pšeničné, plus some PR shenanigans on their part and the fallout of the mycotoxin affair. All in one package.

You can read it here.

And I leave you with a thought:

"Better crap beer in great company than great beer in crap company".

Na Zdraví!

11 years

2013-05-22T11:21:00.000+02:00

I had forgotten about it. Last year, the year before and the one before that I had chosen some special beers to celebrate my anniversary in the Czech Republic. I hadn't thought about it this year until I was sitting last Monday afternoon drinking a Postrižinská 11°.

It was that 11 degree beer that made me realise that I've been living here for 11 years. How appropriate!

¡Fuck me, time flies! As I've already mentioned, moving here has been the decision of my life. This country is far from perfect (and which is?), but despite all the shortcomings, I still like it as a place to live, work and struggle. As a beer lover, on the other hand, I can't imagine a better place than Prague right now, the scene in the last few years has changed incredibly (and not only in Prague). I can still buy a great beer like the above mentioned 11º, at 12CZK a bottle, I can still have Pilsner Urquell tanková in any neighbourhood and now, on top of that, there are 14 brewpubs, two distribution based microbreweries (plus the one at the university), a ever stronger presence of regional and micro beers from the whole country, thanks in great part to the ever growing number of multi-tap pubs, which coexist in the utmost peace with the classic minimalist pubs, supermarkets with wider beer diversity, 6 pivotek and, as if all that wasn't enough, I live near Únětický Pivovar.

Nothing more to add. I'll go get a beer to celebrate on.

Na Zdraví!

Hmmm... what was it that I wanted to talk about?

2013-05-20T10:21:00.001+02:00

I had the draft of a post somewhere in my brains, one that was freely inspired on an article I read recently that made me think about pubs and why we buy them, I guess I will have to look for it, it may have drowned a little last Saturday at
Černokostelecký Pivovar.

Fuck me! What a great time I had!

Really, Vysmolení es an almost ideal beer event. Gorgeous place, excellent beers. Four specially brewed for the occasion: a desítka that perhaps had a bit too much Munich malts (brewed in Varnsdorf), but that it was still great as the first beer of the day; a dvanáctka of the kind that laughs in the face of those that say that Pale Lagers are boring (brewed in Kounice, which is slowly becoming one of my favourite micros) and two smoked beers (brewed in Přerov), both with almost the same recipe, the only difference being the kind of smoked malt used. Then there were two beers dispensed from pitched barrels, one the Bavarian way (a surprisingly brilliant 14º from Nová Paka), and Únětická 12º with the help of an old air compressor, both with remarkable character.

Six beers, no more. I think it's great! It's a bit like going against the flow, beer events today often promise hundreds of different brews, but less can be better. In just a couple of hours you'd have gone through everything and from then on, you can focus on what is really important, drinking and having a good time with friends well into the evening. We need more events of this kind.

I also wanted to thank Milan and Vodouch for letting me spend the night at the brewery. You can't imagine how fantastic it is to be able to drink the whole day, until well into the wee hours, knowing that there will be a bed waiting for me right upstairs from the bar. And how nice it is to wake up (well, not THAT nice) in the morning and to have for breakfast garlic soup and a 19º Porter lagered in unlined barrels these people brought from Spain.

A weekend can hardly get better than this.

Na Zdraví!

PS: I've been told that the four custom-brewed beers will be showing up at U Vodoucha and U Slovanské Lípy here in Prague. Highly recommended.

Are you around this weekend?

2013-05-15T10:47:00.001+02:00

Fancy doing something really cool? My friends at Černokostelecký Pivovar are holding the second edition of Vysmolení.

Last year, I had a great time and I'm really looking forward to going again this Saturday.

The excuse for this event is to pay homage to a once very important trade in the Czech beer industry, the cooper, presenting perhaps one of the important jobs these artisans had, pitching.

Like last year, there will also be four beers specially brewed for the occasion, a desítka, a dvanáctka and two smoked beers, one made with beech smoked malts, the other peat smoked. The beers will be poured from wooden barrels with two dispensing methods, top pressure with air compressor and old Bavarian style, by gravity.

Personally, I'm looking forward to see how much the restoration works at the brewery proper have advanced. What these people are doing is really commendable. Instead of setting up a brewpub, they decided to put back into work the original brewhouse, that is fired with wood or coal and has a 160hl capacity, and that was last used a quarter of a century ago.

Of course, that is only the cherry on the pie of something that will certainly be a day full of good friends, good fun and good beer.

So you know where to find me.

Na Zdraví!

Monday Musings

2013-05-13T11:10:00.000+02:00

Peklo na talíři (Hell on a plate) is an internet "TV" show that reviews products sold by supermarket chains, trying to raise awareness about the rubbish we buy and the tricks used to sell it.

The topic of this episode (sorry, I can't embed it) is cheap wines and, as usual, the host has invited a renown authority on the matter, who will, as announced, blind taste eight samples.

After going through them, the expert explains that the wines belong to the "entry level" category and, among other things, mentions something very interesting, the key about wine is personal preferences and expectations. Taking this into account, this good man picks two wines saying that they are good for what they are, simple, clean and "work like wine", he also says that they are fine to mix with soda or a summer cocktail.

I didn't bother to read the comments, but I can imagine the reaction of some connoisseurs (or people who fancy themselves as such) after seeing that an authority of that caliber praising "such crap". And I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be too different from the reaction of many a craftophile and fetishist, if someone did something similar with low end beers, which, much to the chagrin of some, despite their low price, can be quite fine.

As I've been saying for some time, just like with wines, the evaluation beers is all a question of personal preferences and expectations. For most people, "beer" means "moderately alcoholic, inexpensive refreshment", and the best selling beers in each country fit into that paradigm. People drink those beers because they consider them good for what they are.

Unfortunately, a great part of the craftophile discourse isn't be able to wrap its mind around that. Some seem to believe that people live in a lie, that at some point in history the Illuminati, the Freemasons and the Reptile People decided to brainwash us with crap beer that nobody in their right mind could enjoy so as to make it easier for aliens to invade us, or something along those lines. While there are others who strongly believe that the opinions and preferences of the niche they belong to should be considered a universal truth in everything that relates to beer, failing to understand that beer is not art.

It's been some time since I left "beer evangelism" behind. On the one hand, because I stopped worrying what other people were o were not drinking, and on the other, because I believe it approaches beer in a totally wrong way.

The evangelist and the craftophile tell the average consumer "what you drink is shit, it's not beer. Beer is what I drink," and they are awfully wrong. This doesn't mean that an evangelist or craftophile should change their opinion about those beers they qualify as "shit", but that they should accept the fact that the average consumer sees them as "good", that they enjoy them for what they are, no more, no less, and that there is now way anyone can be wrong about it.

Of course, this mentality isn't something isolated, but part of a bigger line of thought, the belief among craftophiles that their tastes and habits represent the true beer culture and that those who drink mass produced beers, not only live in a lie, but also lack culture.

¡What a massive lie! Firstly, because they apply to beer the already obsolete elitist concept of "culture" and secondly, and even more important, because to a certain extent, and at some level, many of these people, in spite of how they see themselves, don't understand "beer" anymore.

Beer has always been a part of a where and when. When drinking or evaluating a beer becomes an end in itself, when the main goal is to check some boxes, assign a score or write a review, beer is abstracted from its natural environment, which is the where and when. It's a bit like trying to understand an animal by the way it behaves in a zoo.

To me, therefore, the person who has a better understanding of beer is not that who at a festival starts taking tasting notes, who regularly attends or organises tastings, or is able to recognise with a sniff the many different hop varieties from around the world, but that who sees beer as one of the elements of a where and when and who takes on beer in its natural environment, even if that means occasionally doing things that "experts" will find reproachable, like drinking straight from a bottle. And there is the true beer culture, drinking without the need of paying more attention than the necessary to determine whether you like the beer or not, while letting oneself to be carried away by a given where and when.

Na Zdraví!

This week in the Prague Post

2013-05-10T07:48:00.002+02:00

The third installment of the series about non-pub places where to have decent beer. This time in Prague 6.

You can read it here

Na Zdraví!

Let's talk about what's important

2013-05-03T18:46:00.000+02:00

Let's talk about "Premium Beer".

Why are some beers "Premium" while others aren't'? How can we define "Premium"? Is it a matter of ingredients? Is proper "Premium Beer" made with 100% malted barley o are natural ingredients like rice and corn also allowed? And if so, is there a limit in how much of the can be used? Isn't the use of these adjuncts maybe mandatory? Can rice and corn be used to give character to a "Premium Beer" or should they be used only to cut down costs? Is there a maximum or minimum production volume for "Premium Beer"? Does this limit apply to each batch or annual production? How about processes? Can a beer be "Premium" if it's not filtered and pasteurised? Is "Premium Beer" allowed to "evolve" or is it better to mummify it in a bottle or can? And is the can a worthy container of "Premium Beer"? Is "Premium Beer" a prerogative of big brewers or can it be produced by small ones, too? Can it be brewed with passion or only robotically and without any feelings? Must brewers issue a manifesto about the philosophy and spirit behind their "Premium Beer"?

Ridiculous, init? Well, if you think about it, not much more than the constant attempts on this side of the counter to find a definite definition of "Craft Beer". This week alone, there have been two, one in Spain and another one in England. In fact, Pete Brown asks if anyone is still interested in a definition of craft beer. Unfortunately, it seems so.

But I'm in a fairly good mood today, so I decided I would present you with what I believe is a definition of "Craft Beer" that will put an end to all this debate once and for all.

As I was saying on Monday, what we all really want is "Good Beer". All the rest is subordinated to that. We can all agree on that, I believe. When we decide to buy a beer, we don't really do it because of its denomination, we do it primarily because we know we will like it, we have reasons to believe we will like it or we expect to like it. Nobody buys a beer knowing, believing, expecting they will not like it.

In an ideal world, perhaps "Craft" would equal "Good". The sad truth, however, is that this doesn't happen, and never will, ever.

In theory, and still with a great intellectual effort, we could reach a consensus on the meaning of, say, "small". We could even determine what ingredients, processes and technologies may or may not be used to make "Craft Beer", and regulate accordingly.

The problem is that "Good" will always remain an opinion based on a sensory perception, one that can also change at any given moment. And since nobody is wrong when they say they like or don't like a beer, it is simply impossible, even at a theoretical level, to determine consensually what is good and what isn't. Therefore, "Craft Beer" is a label, a brand, and as it happens with every other label or brand, it has been assigned a series of more or less plausible and logical attributes to convince the consumer to buy it.

Taking all this into consideration, I propose the following: a beer (or brewery) is "Craft" when the person that commercialises it so indicates. Very simple, clear and watertight. No room for vague interpretations. For us, consumers, it works wonderfully (what the other side of the counter might think of this is their problem), after all, what we want to buy is "Good Beer" and a beer isn't good thanks to how well its maker fits into an arbitrary definition made up to serve commercial interests; a beer is good because it is (very likely) well made and, first and foremost, because you like it; while a crap beer will still be crap regardless of what is or isn't written on its label.

So, I don't know about you, but I think I'll have myself some "Good Beer".

Na Zdraví!

PS: If some day, while drinking "Good Beer", someone asks you if it is "Craft", answer saying "I don't know, it's good. It's brewed by so and so, here or there". If this person insists on seeing the "craft credentials" of your beer, you will be speaking with someone who doesn't consume beer, but brands. People who consume brands are fools and life is too short to waste time arguing with fools.

This week in the Prague Post

2013-05-03T10:44:00.004+02:00

I speak about the upcoming Czech Beer Festival, that is being held again in Výstaviště Praha – Holešovice, with a few changes, unfortunately, not all of them for the better.

You can read it here

Monday Musings

2013-04-29T10:01:00.001+02:00

Interesting. Almost at the same time, two blogs, a Yank and a Czech, responded to a the reaction of the other side of the counter to the same "problem".

Jeff, in Beervana, has been carrying out comparative blind tastings of mass produced pale lagers. In one of them, the samples of Stella Artois and Beck's turned out to be lightstruck. One Jack (whom I mistakenly thought to have some relation to ABIB) left a comment saying that it was not fair to include in a tasting a bottle that had been abused.

Meanwhile, in this neck of the woods, Pivníci published the results of their survey on PET bottles¹. At the end of the post, they tell that they had received outraged e-mails from owners or brewers complaining about their beers having been evaluated from PET bottles, instead of on tap at this or that pub.

Both Jeff's and Pivníci's response could be summarised as "if you know the container can be a problem, why the fuck do you sell your beer like that?" And I couldn't agree more. To me, a beer is not fully made until it gets into my glass, or until I pay for the bottle at a shop². Therefore, it is the responsibility of the company that makes this beer to see that it gets to the consumer in the best possible condition. Unfortunately, either for lack of will or resources, many are the producers who do not take care of the quality of their beers once they leave their factories, leaving it all in the hands of the interest, will and capacity of third parties.

This reminds me of something I read a while ago in Alan's blog (or was it Stan's?) about one of the earliest definitions of "craft beer/brewery". I've forgotten the details (and I can't be arsed with looking for the post, perhaps the author will kindly provide a link?), but it basically established that craft was a brewery that, among other things, refrained from distributing their beers in order to avoid compromising their quality. And it's pretty much on the spot. Even with the greatest will and resources, each time a brewer leaves their product in the hands of third parties, the only thing they can do is to hope that this person will give it the adequate care, which often does not happen.

But let's not be fundamentalists. A brewery is first and foremost a business, and like every other business, its reason to be is to generate profit for its owners, something that is very difficult to accomplish without taking risks and compromising some ideals³. It's hard to be against that, after all, without those entrepreneurs who take those risks and compromise those ideals, it wouldn't be possible to enjoy the diversity many of us are fortunate to enjoy today.

On the other hand, it is also true that some of those entrepreneurs are also the same ones who say they represent true and proper Beer Culture, telling us that what drives them is passion and love for beer and not money. All while they gladly ship their beers across countries, continents, seas and oceans, often without filtering and pasteurising because that would mean compromising on quality and the concept of artisanship.

Of course, hardly anyone today can be surprised to learn that a good part of the marketing discourse of the people who want our money is made of the highest grade bollocks. Though, there seems to be not few fools on this side of the counter more than willing to believe all that nonsense and spread it on.

Speaking about nonsense from this side of the counter. The other day, Simon Johnson shared a gem, a video called “Sh!t Beer Geeks Say”. It's brilliant! Don't miss it! Especially since I believe most of us, more than once, have uttered similar sort of idiocies.

This takes me to a pretty good piece I read last week, 15 Things Craft Beer Fans Think (But Nobody Says). Nothing new, really, and many of them are specific to the American beer ecosystem, but there are others that could be perfectly applied in any country (at most, with the change of a few details), and that have even been dealt with in this blog, e.g. here and here.

These, and other things I've read in the last few months have made me wonder if we aren't witnessing a growing trend towards a healthy and reasonable cynicism, the sort that "Craft Beer", like any other brand, deserves. And it might be that this trend is slowly spilling to the other side of the counter.

In its Twitter profile, the Argentine micro brewery Nuevo Origen says, "We make good beers, we don't care for the craft beer tag". It's marketing, no doubt, but marketing with balls. The Craft label is often used to justify ineptitude, precariousness and lack of professionalism. But with "Good Beer" there's nowhere to hide, and it shows a brewer⁴ with a lot of confidence in his product.

And ain't that just what we all really want, "Good Beer"? "Craft", "Artisan", "Gourmet", "Boutique", etc. are just empty labels that, at most, speak more of the producer than the product. "Good" is the only label that we should want to buy and support.

Yes, micro-macro, local-imported, independent-corporate are things to be taken into account to some extent. But, as far as I'm concerned, they are not even close as important as "Good". Only the brewers who are able to deliver "Good" (or at the very least "Well Made", because "Good" can be pretty subjective) can begin to tell me about all the rest, otherwise, they'd better keep quiet.

Na Zdraví!

¹ I often buy beers in plastic bottles. To me, the problem isn't so much the material of the container (which is far from the best), but the way in which the bottles are handled and stored at shops. The same could be said about green bottles. In fact, it has happened to me more than once to buy at a supermarket a duff beer, even in a brown bottle.
² Actually, the glass thing could also apply to bottles bought at shops, but let's cut the brewers some slack.
³ Does not refer to moral, ethic ideals or beliefs, but to the concept of a perfect model.
⁴ I've exchanged a few e-mails with Marcelo Braga, who seems to be a fine bloke. I don't know his beers, but would love to.

On reviews

2013-04-22T10:06:00.002+02:00

As you might have noticed, beer reviews aren't a usual feature of this blog anymore. The few that I post serve mostly to illustrate a point or another. The main reason is that I got bored of writing tasting notes and later fleshing them out for a post. I got tired of having some kind of self imposed obligation to dissect every sip of every new beer in search of things that show up over and over again; not only because I find that to be a waste of time and energy, but also because I realised that it can become an obstacle to properly enjoy a beer. Now, when I drink a new beer, I prefer to let it speak than to force the words out of it, and if there is a sensory element that stands out, I trust my memory to be able to keep it safe in case I need some day.

There is also another problem with beer reviews. On the one hand, we have the use of some very detailed descriptors in tasting notes, what can marigold, treacle or rose water mean to someone who's never seen any of that? On the other hand, and even more importantly, is the fact that there aren't standards. What is excellent, interesting, extraordinary for me, may very well be mediocre, boring or everyday for others; and there's no arguing it. If someone declares that there is no better beer than, say, Braník, or Mikkeller 1000IBU, they won't be wrong, every person has different experience and tastes and all opinions are qualified. This isn't like, I don't know, Iranian cinema, which someone like me could qualify as 120 minutes of utter boredom; to which a film scholar could respond saying that I'm not getting the message, that I should see the full opus of the director and other things along those lines, and they will be right! This person would have studied the subject matter in detail and watching film is mostly an intellectual experience, after all. Drinking beer, however, is a sensory experience, it's purely subjective and it's impossible to get it wrong. It's not necessary to know, understand or have any prior information about a beer you are drinking in order to be able to determine if you like it or not.

It is different with pubs, etc., and that is why I like reviewing them more. There are a series of almost universal standards that can serve as the basis for an evaluation. I believe that those things that make a pub good, not great or wonderful, just good, can be recognised by almost everyone.

Boak and Bailey mentioned some of them the other day. The only one I don't quite agree with is point 4. Smiles, I believe, are overrated, or rather, have been devalued almost to the level of a requirement like functional and clean toilets or not being ripped off with the bill. That's wrong. Nobody should be under the obligation of smiling if, for whatever reason, they don't feel like it. To me, a fake and forced smile is much worse than an honest grunt. I believe that politeness, professionalism and efficiency are more than enough to make any patron feel their business is appreciated. All the rest, if genuine and sincere, is a bonus; it's like finding that truly great beer among a bunch of good ones.

But I digress, it's reviews what I wanted to talk about.

For better or worse, nowadays technology allows us to publish reviews in real time. We walk into a place or have the first sip of a beer, and sharing our opinion with world is only a tipi-tipi-tap away. Honestly, this is not something I like too much.

Personally, before sitting down to write a pub review, I prefer to ruminate, to let it bounce around my mind for a couple of days to give it a bit of perspective; can it be that that alleged fault is something premeditated, aimed at an audience I'm not part of? The same could apply to beer, once the first impression has passed, how does the beer compare to other similar ones? would I buy it again? how good is in terms of value for money? All that often needs time to be considered and, in my opinion, it improves the review, it becomes more useful for the reader.

However, that instant, immediate review, penned right when the experience is taking place, could be considered, especially in relation with beer, as more honest, as it's more visceral, guided by the feelings and the senses rather than the intellect.

Interesting.

Na Zdraví!

This week in the Prague Post

2013-04-19T17:18:00.000+02:00

I review one of Prague's newest breweries, Pivovar Marina Holešovice , together with my colleague Fiona Gaze.

You can read it all here.

Na Zdraví!

The Falacy of Expensive

2013-04-15T09:59:00.001+02:00

Though I still believe that the issue with prices is not much more than a fictitious controversy, mainly because nobody is under any obligation to buy a beer they consider too expensive, there are some attitudes by brewers and sellers that bother me. For example, this:

This quote is very similar to the one that closes the "I'm a Craft Beer Drinker" video (that seems to feature more sellers than drinkers), "Life is too short to drink cheap beer". Both are perversions of originals where the word "Cheap"has replaced "Bad". This way, the authors of "I'm a Craft Beer Drinker" (seller?) and the poster above (signed by a brewery) are openly implying that cheap beer is bad and, therefore, only expensive beer is good.

I've got no problem if brewers (and sellers) try to convince me that the price of their products (or services) is fair, that it's related to the quality, even if they justify it with abstract added values, but this is disrespecting the intelligence of the consumer. Instead of at least trying to explain me the reasons why their beers cost what they cost, they employ dishonest rhetoric tricks.

Anyone with a modicum of a well traveled palate will know very well that there are not few beers of moderate to low price that are excellent, or that at least have an excellent price/quality ratio, just as they will know that there are not few beers with high to insane price that are quite poor, or at least have a quite poor quality/price ratio; and this is something also producers and sellers know very well (or at least they should).

On the other hand, of the above mentioned rhetoric atrocities, the one that bothers me the most is the video's because it suggest (intentionally or not) that a beer can not be "craft" it it's not expensive.

It's funny, we often see so called "craft brewers" talking about innovation, envelop pushing, creativity, thinking outside the box, breaking barriers, taking beer to another plane of existence and whatnot. All very nice, yeah, but this bollocks hardly ever, if at all, mentions prices and value and yet, it is almost always received with open arms by an audience that seems to have lust part of their capacity for critical thought.

The other day, my friend Chris Lohring, owner of Notch Brewing, said in this interview, "Nothing makes one more creative than to impose a limitation". The man is right! Though Chris was referring to his brewery's specialization, session beers, those limits he speaks about could easily be prices. It's very easy to pose as a creative innovator when you know that there is a market niche that will run to buy almost whatever silliness you can come up, regardless of price. It's a lot more difficult to find a way to make solid, interesting beers that can be sold at lower prices.

There is people who have managed that. This beer, for example, that is proud to be cheap, or Dougall's in Spain, that has been receiving so much praise for being cheaper (and apparently better) than most. There are many, many more that have this philosophy, but unfortunately, they don't get the attention they deserve.

As always, the cause is on this side of the counter. That loud minority of novelty chasers, who are willing to travel hundreds of kilometres with the promise of being able to taste this or that beer in order to fulfill a detailed intoxication plan, who prefer to spend 10€, or more, on one bottle of a beer they don't know if they'll like instead of spending the same amount on several bottles of beers they already know. As long as the discourse is dominated by them, the gimmick peddlers will multiply, taking space away from those who really honour the noble trade of beer making.

Na Zdraví!

PD: If you are a brewer thinking of posting a detail of your cost to explain your prices, don't bother. The information might be interesting, but it lacks importance. What interests me as a consumer is to get value for my money. If you can't make your beers cheaper, then make them better, if you can't make them better, then fuck off, the market doesn't need you.

Monday Musings

2013-04-08T10:27:00.001+02:00

This Twit by El Jardín del Lúpulo got me thinking about a couple of things that have been discussed more than once in blogs and forums, but which are always worth getting back to.

Me encanta la cerveza. Siempre bebo Cruzcampo Glacial a -2ºC. Es lo mejor. #TuiteaComoSiTuvierasParálisisCerebral
— El Jardín del Lúpulo (@Jardindellupulo) April 5, 2013

(I love beer. I always drink Cruzcampo Glacial at -2ºC. It's the best. #TwitLikeYouHadBrainParalysis)

Before carrying on, I'd like to make clear that I believe that that hashtag is nothing but a joke. Unfortunately, though, there are not few craftophiles who actually believe that those who drink Cruzcampo Glacial, or another similar beer, are morons.

This attitude (that I must confessed to having shared in the past) is something that is bothering more and more in the beer world. By themselves, beer tastes don't make anyone more sophisticated, ethic, let alone more intelligent. In fact, if we are speaking about morons, it's not a moron that who drinks something they like and tell it to the world, but that who believes that a person who drinks something they like and tells it to the world is a moron.

Much to the chagrin of the craftophiles and the marketing discourse of some brewers, people drink what they drink because they like it, because they consider that a given beer (Cruzcampo Glacial, Braník, Quilmes Cristal, Corona, Foster's, Bud Light or however it is that it's called in your neck of the woods) meets their expectations or satisfies a need sufficiently so that the consumer is willing to pay for it.

The fact that you, I or my neighbour agree that that beer is Shit, does not mean that the person who drinks it is any way wrong because they drink it and tell the world they love it. In fact, that person, their friend or their neighbour could very easily say that one of those beers that are able to induce a boner to the "Expert Drinkers" (I wish I was making that up) are Shit.

But of course, one of the members of those Expert Drinkers will belittle that opinion because it comes from someone who doesn't really drink beer and therefore, wouldn't know how to appreciate that boner inducing brew, or is not able to enjoy it because they don't understand it.

And I wonder: could it be that the Expert Drinkers do not understand the Cruzcampos Glaciales of this world?

Perhaps it exists, though I doubt it, but I would love to see an independent survey on the demographics of the consumers of alternative beers. I'm convinced that the bulk of that market is made by people who buy alternative beers more or less often, but not exlusively. Meaning that perhaps when they get back from work on a Tuesday, they open a DIPA and drink it at the right temperature from the proper gralls, while on Friday or Saturday, when they with friends or watch sports at home, they open a macrolager and drink it straight from the bottle or ice cold without feeling any internal conflicts about it, because after all, it's just beer.

And while I write all the bollocks above, I'm reminded of something that's been going around my head ever since I had that duff Rauchweizenbock. If what determines "good beer" is taste, then there is no such thing as "bar beer". There are well made beers, and there are badly made beers, but that's something technical, I'm talking about the quality perceived by the consumer. As long as there are people willing to pay for a beer because they like it, that beer, to those people, at that moment, won't be "bad". You, I and my neighbour might believe it is, but will be just our opinion.

This, and several other topics, are what the book I'm writing with Alan is about. It's over 30,000 words long already, and we haven't finished the first draft yet. But well, I guess that won't be a surprise to anyone.

Na Zdraví!

An Obituray

2013-03-25T09:40:00.000+01:00

The seed of this blog was sown one afternoon in the Spring of 2005, if I remember correctly, when I impulsively fancied drop by a pub near Letná to have a quick one before giving a lesson. What had brought me to that place was the sign of a brewery I knew absolutely nothing about, but the beer they gave me that afternoon, a světlý ležák with the same name as the pub, was the one that made me start paying attention to what I had in my glass, which was the starting point of this journey through the world of what I believe is the most fascinating beverage.

Those of you who've been following my rants here, or at least, those who have my history of pissheadedness, know what beer and place I'm talking about, and some of you have even visited it.

Unfortunately, Svijanský Rytíř has ceased to exist.

It's no news, really. It's something I'd known for about half a year. One day I was around the neighbourhood and, since hadn't been there for a long time, I thought it'd be nice to drop by at what used to be one of my favourite spots in town and have a pint in honour of the old, simpler, times. There was a little sign on the door that said that place was "temporarily" closed. I've seen many places that were "temporarily" closed and never opened again, but seeing that the furniture and taps were still there made me keep at least a bit of hope alive. I passed by a couple more times since and everything remained the same, the hope, though smaller, refused to die.

Until the other day. Already from the corner of Pivnice Šumavan I was able to see what I had already known. The Svijany sign was gone and a piece of paper stuck on the inner side of the door announced a soon to be opened curry house.

I don't know why it closed, though I suspect it. The last time I was there for lunch with my wife something had changed, and not for the better. It doesn't matter. I will miss Svijanský Rytíř, I've had some very good times there, alone, with friends and also with my wife, our Friday lunch, followed by a quiet walk through Letná became a sort of ritual for us during her pregancy. It was also at Svijanský Rytíř where I had one of the most amazing moments in my blogging "career" when group of Danes, who were having lunch there, broke into applause when they recognised me and for a moment made me feel I was a celebrity.

The loss of a good pub is always a pity. Fortunately, memories tend to remain.

Na Zdraví!

Like is more than enough

2013-03-18T10:42:00.001+01:00

Jeff, at Beervana, has been asking, not one, but twice how to define "good beer", which, together with a more than interesting debate I had under the Spanish version of the other day's post, have made me wonder if all these bollocks around beer have not made us loose touch with what's basic and fundamental.

Regardless of what values people may add to it, regardless of the labels and the chauvinism, regardless of the marketing blabber, the truth is that beer is no more, no less than an alcoholic beverage (or "fun juice", as Alan has genially put it). The only real purpose for which a beer is created¹ is to be imbibed. The company that manufactures the beer wants, of course, that we find that imbibing pleasant, but not because they are especially fond of us, but because they understand that pleasure increases the probability of a repeat purchase, which is the basis for the sustainability of any business.

Drinking beer isn't an intellectual exercise, there aren't any symbolisms, or messages that have to be understood, neither are there any codes or backgrounds that the consumer needs to be familiar with in order to enjoy². Drinking beer is a sensory experience and, as such, is 100% subjective and is evaluated with the same criteria since we are born, based on how much we like it (or dislike it).

We may write books, speak at length, dissecting, intelectualising and analysing that sensory experience, and the beer that generated it, but all that can eventually be reduced (and will be subordinated to) "like". All those elaborate and detailed tasting notes and reviews that many seem to love writing are nothing but explanations and rationalisations of that "like".

Of course, the feeling of pleasure can be affected by a multitude of factors, internal or external to the person: level of physical and mental fatigue, what has been consumed before or during the sensory experience, the company, the weather, the time of day, etc.; but also the marketing and the hype around a given beer. But the opinion about that beer will always be essentially "like".

When we say that we like a beer (for whatever reason), we are expressing that drinking it gives us pleasure. If pleasure is something that, relative to oneself, can be defined as "good", then, if I like a beer, that beer is, as far as I'm concerned, good. Therefore, "like" not only is more than enough to determine how good a beer is, but it could actually be said that, at least from the point of view of the consumer, there is no other way to determine it.

Now, what is it that make some people like some beers and dislike others? That's another question.

Na Zdraví!

PD: I don't deal with the "price/quality" thing because it is actually a commercial issue. I can like a beer, A, more than another beer, B, but since buying B demands a sufficiently lower outlay of time and effort as to increase its value in relation with A, to the extent that, being able to choose between both, it will be B the one that I'm more likely to buy again.

¹ There are beers that seem to be brewed mostly for dick swinging purposes or in order to attract an otherwise very expensive media attention, but they are exceptions.

² I might be contradicting myself here. Many times I've said that you need to "understand" a beer in order to properly enjoy it. That's not true, in order to properly enjoy a beer you have to drink it, if you didn't like a beer, it won't matter how much you will have it explained, you will still not like it, at most, you will be able to understand why other people do, but that's it.

Monday Musings

2013-03-11T12:07:00.001+01:00

The recent release of the latest Style Guidines by the Brewers Association reminded me of something that had been bouncing around my mind since the beginning of the year, after reading this this surpisingly good article in the Argentinean magazine Brando.

It speaks about a new trend in the local market, the big brewers are betting more on more and variety with beers to a more or lesser extent drift away from the paradigm of farty pale lager. Unlike other similar pieces, the author refrains from writing just a list with tasting notes lifted from marketing materials and does some decent journalist work. He looked for the opinion of representatives of local micro breweries, who, by the most part, don't see these new beers as a threat, but as an opportunity, since they will show to a wider audience that "beer" is not only the above mentioned paradigm (notice the contrast between that and the "Craft vs Crafty" PR stunt by the BA a while ago*).

The only problem that there seems to be with this beer is that they sometimes do not "respect" the style they claim to be. Clearly referring to Quilmes Stout, which the author points as the one that started the trend, a small brewer complains that "Many people, when speaking about stout, say 'I like it/don't like it because is sweet'. Actually, Stouts are hardly ever sweet, but the industrials have made people understand that they are."

I can understand a bit why this person is bothered by this. He must make a one of those nicely roasty and bitter stouts, and if someone drinks it after having tasted and liked Quilmes's, chances are that they will be surprised (either way); while another person who does not like Quilmes Stout because it's sweet, might be reluctant to try the one this good man does because it has the same word written on the label, or not, it all depends on how good this brewer is at selling his beers.

But regardless of that, I got stuck with the word "respect" a style. Respect it in what sense, in accordance with what? Many will answer this question with the "BJCP/BA style guidelines", which doesn't make much sense for three reasons: 1) it isn't and has never been accepted anywhere as an ISO-like standard of quality, 2) it can't be used as a brewing manual (neither it intends to be), 3) it's not even a guidelike of styles proper, it's a list of categories for competitions that has little if any consideration for history or traditions, and the inclusion of new styles, at least when it comes to the BA, seems to depend to a great extent on how good were certain brewers lobbying to open a new category for competitions.

The only real purpose of these style guidelines are competitions. Participants can use them to know in which category they can present their beers (I remember a few years go that, at the World Beer Awards, Primátor English Pale Ale won a medal in the Brown Ale category) and they tell judges what are the evaluation parameters and criteria for a given category.

It is already well known how beers are evaluated at competitions like the World Beer Cup (blind tasting of small samples provided by the brewers themselves, all in very controlled conditions). What is not so well known is how the winners are determined. Each judge's evaluation must naturally be as objective as possible, the criteria is 100% technical and the winning beer will be the one that best fit into the technical parameters of its category, which, at WBC and other competitions, is not decided by a score, but by consensus, all members of the jury agree, regardless of their personal taste, that this or that beer is technically the best of the lot.

That is why, among the loose thoughts, I said this: "Someone who uses the BJCP style guidelines as a parameter to evaluate a beer, shows they understand little about the BJCP, styles and beer." Anyone who uses a list of competition categories when reviewing a beer, is doing it wrong. In real life, a beer must be evaluated on the basis of how much we like it, the price/quality ratio and how it compares to other similar beers we've had. On the other hand, in order to make a correct technical evaluation of a beer, it is necessary first to know the intention of the brewer, which is what determines a well made beer.

Unfortunately, there are way too many people on both sides of the counter who have anointed these lists of competition categories with an almost legal (if not religious) authority and that is why I understand, and share, Ron Pattinson's strong discontent with the specifications for Grätzer (Grodziskie), one of two new ~~styles~~ categories accepted by the BA this year. Ron has been working very hard for many years to bring back to life this very interesting, extinct and almost forgotten Polish style. The BA didn't give too many fucks about any of that, and chose to open a new category that will fit what a few brewers were making. They called it Grätzer, but it has so little to do with history and tradition that they could have easily called it Kaczynski.

Na Zdraví!

* You didn't really thing that the issue of the Craft vs Crafty thing had anything to do with transparency, did you?

Precarious balance

2013-02-20T11:10:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, as I drank the Argentinean beer Grosa (a present from my good friend Guerrillero Culinario), I was reminded of what Boak and Bailey asked the other day about balance.

Unfortunately, this word is often associated with "boring". Though there are indeed many balanced beers that are boring, the truth is that many unbalanced beers can be boring, too. I'm speaking about those that explode at first sip and then run out of script (often they are of the sort that I call "tasting beers").

But a balanced beer can also be very interesting, and even fun to drink, specially when that balance is on the precarious side. This is the example of Grosa, a beer aged in wine casks, brewed by Jerome, in collaboration with Argentine music legend, Oscar, Golden Globe and BAFTA winner, and part-time winemaker Gustavo Santaolalla.

At first, all the bits that make a Grosa's flavour seem to go into the mouth stumbling and pushing each other. It takes them a moment to realise that they should be working together, instead of competing. But still, each sip gives the impression that the beer will fall apart, but it always manages to keep the balance. Almost like an acrobat with a pint too many. The result, besides reminding me of +Malta Cuvée (but with more muscle), is a beer with an incredible drinkability for something so complex and strong (9%ABV).

Precarious balance, but balance nonetheless = interesting and fun beer. There should be more brewers willing to apply this formula.

Na Zdraví!

PD: Grosa could have been a very good example for the other day's post on value. According to Guerrillero, it seems that Santaolalla's fame brings the price higher than the beer is actually worth.

Progress Report

2013-02-18T09:57:00.001+01:00

Things have been slow around here lately, partly because of work, and life in general, and partly because of the book I'm writing with Alan.

Although we haven't been able to dedicate as much time and energy as we would have liked to this, still unnamed, creature, it has already grown to a respectable 12000 words. Our goal is to make it to 30000, after which we will have to start with the tedious work of editing, adding footnotes, reviewing our opinions (one of the nice things about writing something like this is that your ideas can change as you work and see some things from a different angle), etc.

Thus far, the topics that have been, or are being, discussed are: styles, health, tasting, language, micro marketing, extreme and experimental beers, collaborations. In the pipeline are value/price, myths, beer writing and blogs, evangelism, industrial vs craft and likely some more.

The book has already taken to what appears to be a neighbourhood hospoda, Alan's kitchen, a tavern in 80's Canada, a Spanish bar, a Bavarian beer garden, a sensory isolation chamber, an abandoned ship, an examination room (much to my chagrin) and a lecture hall. Among all this we have met someone who might or might have not been a younger version of Alan's wife, and an irritated and vehement Ron Pattinson. God knows where else we'll be and who else we'll come across.

Neither we know when the whole thing we'll be ready. What we are really sure of, though, is that we are having a lot of fun writing this.

So, that's it, I must get back to work.

Na Zdraví!

Valuable value

2013-02-15T11:01:00.001+01:00

The other day, when I learnt about a new beer from a very famous British brewery, I started thinking, once again, about the concepts of value and price/quality. 2D2dspuma beat me to the punch, and in great manner, but I still wanted to talk about it but from a slightly different perspective.

The beer in question has been aged 4 years in whisky casks. Though 4 years wouldn't have raised any eyebrows in the past, nowadays it is something very much out of the ordinary (with the probable exception of some Lambics), and this alone is enough to make this beer quite interesting, at least on paper. Shame about the price, though; roughly, the equivalent of 750CZK for a 330ml bottle. Pfff!

As I've already said several times, I've got no issue with brewers pricing their product in any way they see fit. It's their business decision and nobody is under any obligation to buy that product. That's why I also believe that it is unfair to criticise a beer for its price if you haven't drunk it yet. But, it is still possible to evaluate, in a fair and reasonable way, the price/quality relationship this beer offers without the need of buying anything.

In these times, when the disposable income of many of us is not what it used to be, we become (or should become) more careful with the money we spend on luxury goods. We understand that every money that we spend on one is money we will not have for something else. And this is exactly the principle I want to use. What else can I buy for the price of this particular beer?

Give or take a coin, today in Prague I could buy the following beers, for example:

4 750ml bottles of stuff from De Ranke, Dupont, Chouffe or other similar Belgians
6 500ml bottles of Fuller's Vintage Ale
13 500ml bottles of Schlenkerla Urbock or Eiche, o an assortment of German bocks
13 500ml bottles of Gypsy Porter
2-3 cases of 20 500ml bottles of almost any Czech regional beer, plus a few loose bottles on top
a combination of all the above

All of that, and more, for the same it would cost me to buy one 330ml bottle, if it was available here, at that price. In other words, I wouldn't be only buying unquestionable quality, but also quantity and, on top that, certainty.

I have enough reason to believe that this very special beer is very good, but I can't be certain of that until I drink it. The beers I mention above win because I know all of them, I've liked them and I will like them again. There's no competition possible.

Each person measures the value of purchased goods in a different way. To some, the very opportunity of experiencing a beer that has been aged 4 years in whisky casks is more than enough to justify the price. Fair enough. Not me, though.

However good this can turn out to be, it will be only one experience and 750CZK on that single bottle of beer, that single sensory experience is not the most sensible thing to do, not when I could spend that money (or a lot less, actually) on multiple experiences that can be enjoyed for a longer time, knowing full well that I will end up happy and satisfied with each.

Just like 2D2dspuma were saying at the end of their post, there isn't a more realistic formula to assess value.

Na Zdraví!

PS: The beer I talk about is BrewDog's Tokio Rising Sun. It's not my intention to critisise the beer, the brewery or their pricing policies. It was used just as an example, and it can applied to any expensive beer available today.

Czech Beers at BBF

2013-02-11T09:54:00.000+01:00

There's less than a month left to go for the second edition of Barcelona Beer Festival, to which I had the chance, and the pleasure, to make a small contribution.

The organisers had asked me, already for last year's edition, to help them get Czech beers. It was too close to the date and I wasn't able to arrange anything with anyone. This year, we had more time and already in summer I spoke with Honza Šuráň, Chairman of the Czech Microbrewers' Association, and Milan Starec, one of the owners of Černokostelecký Pivovar, and I put them in contact with Miker Ruis, one of the people behind the event, so they could agree on whatever that needed to be agreed on.

The result is this list of beer:

Imperial Pilsner and IPA, from Břevnovský Klášterní Pivovar
Kávove y banánové pivo, from Pivovarský Dům
Catfish Sumeček, Samuraj IPA, Quarterback and Gypsy Porter, from Pivovar Kocour

Needeless to say, I'm really happy to see that Gypsy Porter, the beer I made happen (which, by the way, was fucktastic!), will be there. It's a pity that I want' be able to travel with it. Anyway, regarding the rest, Kocour goes perhaps with their best stuff. The ones from Pivo Dům are not among my favourite and I would have liked if Břevnov were taking their Světlý Ležák, which is so unique, tough, both Cisařský Ležák (as I prefer to call it) and the IPA are pretty, pretty fine brews, too.

So, I hope that those fortunate enough to assist will have a great time.

Na Zdraví!

Friday Musings

2013-02-01T15:39:00.000+01:00

"Price should stop being an element to compare beers"

This comment (followed by "Is there any competition where the price is considered when evaluating the product") could be considered naive, silly, or worse, if it wasn't for a small detail, it was made by Alex Padró, the owner of a brewery. It reminds me a bit to the quote "Life is too short to drink cheap beer that closes the "I'm a Craft Beer Drinker" video, where several people who make a living out of beer can be seen.

Just like I've said several times, I've got no with people like Padró setting the prices they see fit for their product or sevices. In fact, I think it's their inalienable right (especially if we are speaking about a leisure and luxury product like beer). Neither do I have much of a problem with their trying to convince me that the price, however high, is fair and reasonable for those product or services, as long they do it in an honest way, respecting the intelligence of the consumer, which is not the case with either Padró's comment or the quote in the video.

Regardless of the the ball on nonsense some of his comments are, I would never think of considering Padró as an idiot, quite the opposite. And yet, he is telling us that we should forget what we have paid when we are evaluating a beer, that the price/quality ratio should be of no importance.

Is he taking the piss?

The perception of value is something that will vary according to a number of factors, but the price/quality ratio will always carry much of the weight. Even 2D2dspuma, in their great initiative to support local producers takes it into account when they say "With comparable price/quality, better local".

The thing is that there are people who buy all this bollocks. They are the ones who see this fantastic creature called "Craft Beer" in an overly romantic way (have a look at what this person says here, to see an example), almost as if it belonged to a different reality where the natural laws of the market and the economy do not, and should not, apply. These is the people who have invested one part of the industry with an almost religious aura, believing they are part of some movement.

Regardless of whether it is as a result of true conviction or the purest cynicism, the fact is that not few of the people on the other side of the counter have been perpetuating all this mythology for quite some time. An who can blame them? It's a brilliant tale, one that has made their marketing a lot easier and also served as an excuse in more than one occasion. Maybe that is why some will get a bit upset (in SP) when that tale is questioned and its inconsistencies pointed at. Why would it be, I wonder.

Na Zdraví!

Amateurs vs Professionals

2013-01-28T10:13:00.003+01:00

Birraire posted today a very insightful analysis (in SP) of the situation in the "micro" segment of the Spanish brewing industry, and I couldn't agree more.

Like in many other countries, there is micro brewing bubble in Spain. Unlike the Czech bubble, where the predominant model is the brewpub, the Spanish one has fed mainly from homebrewers, who (likely) trying to find a way out of the crisis, and encouraged by the growing interest in the so (falsely) called "Artisan Beer", have set up small brewing enterprises with much illusion, passion, no little sacrifice and loads of hope.

The thing is that passion, illusion and enthusiasm are not usually the best sources of advice, specially if we are speaking about establishing a company. All this is related to what I said the other day:

"If you are a homebrewer who's planning to go commercial in 2013, before you brew your first batch, leave the homebrewer at home. Making beer won't be your hobby anymore, it'll be your job."

And that is exactly one of the biggest challenges facing the dwellers of that bit of the industry. This isn't about the quality of their products, it's about a more philosophical thing. Homebrewers make beer for themselves, without commitments or risks, while the commercial brewer makes beer for others. The product, therefore, should not be so much something that "I like", but more something that the consumer will like.

It's logical, and yet, there are many fetishists who see in this some sort of betrayal to certain imaginary ideals. "The craft brewer should keep the free and adventurous spirit of the home brewer, because that is the only way they will be able to keep on making beer with passion", or some bollocks like that they will say. Unfortunately, there not few manufacturers that listen to this nonsense and even believe it, and (partly due to their own fetishism) will deny being "commercial", assure us they don't make beer for money, but because they love beer and the art of brewing, without realising that all that feelgood gak can turn into the shovel that will dig their company's grave.

The day the bubble bursts, the survivors won't the passionate, the romantics, the idealists, but those who were able to build solid companies around clear ideas and strategies. Those who understood that beer is an industrial product (even if they don't say it out loud), that the key to long term success is not in following the latest fad and keep the fetishists happy with the novelty of the week, but in satisfying the true drinkers, the ones that want a product of good and consistent quality at a fair price, the ones that prefer to drink that to taste for whom beer is not an end in itself but just one more element in their leisure time.

But this will not be achieved without a change on our part. We should reduce the predominance of fetishism in the discourse (which is, in a way, the goal of the book I'm writing with Alan). It's necessary to stop celebrating the novelties almost automatically, to be more cynical and critical with amateurism, the experiments at the expense of the consumer and the "sucker juice" mongers in general. On the other hand, those who make beer for money, as long as they show us respect and are honest, should be given more praise, because there's nothing in wrong in wanting to get rich.

Perhaps is also time we started speaking more about the less fun side of having a brewery.

Na Zdraví!