Dominus Vobiscum Blanche

I suppose it is no secret by now that I like wheat beers almost as much as I like Pilsener beers (and as much as I like IPA, stout, porter, Lambic, Alt, Kolsch, pretty much all lagers, as well as most other of all remaining beer styles). Today's beer is the Blanche of the Dominus Vobiscum line of products by la Microbrasserie Charlevoix, about whose La Vache Folle I have previously posted. May the Lord be with you indeed! Seldom do you see such a truly white coloured beer combined with such a majestic foam cap as this beer poured. You can see inside the glass a spike of cloudy yeast spreading into the beer.

Now I may have said this before and at the risk of being repetitive, I'll have to say again that the Belgian wheat beer style just cannot reach the same lofty heights of sumptuous deliciousness as can Bavarian wheat beers. There just is no comparison, as this beer demonstrates in some respects, and despite the fact that it is a Quebecois interpretation of the Belgian style. When you wrap your teeth around a German wheat beer, it is like a full meal, including a rich appetizer, a well balanced and nutritious main course, to be followed by a deliciously subtle yet tantalizing dessert to finish things off. This beer is a fine beer - let's make no mistake about it - but its palate immediate becomes dominated by one aroma: Cloves. And then there were some more cloves. And before I knew it, my tongue had been nailed to the top of my palate with cloves (if you understand French, perhaps you can also understand why this might be the case).

And for all the clove, I almost forgot to mention some of the banana flavours that seep through, and the slightly sour yeast character that you can taste intensely at the front and which continue more subtly throughout the palate. Now I do appreciate this acidity especially at the end of the palate because it provides for a clean and dry finish. But what is missing for me is a more ripe fruit character and some more rich bready malt flavour in the middle. The Belgian style, and this beer is no exception, favours the yeast flavours so much over the malts (and never mind the hops) that the beer even looses some of its middle palate thirst extinguishing characteristics.

The label description indicates that this is a spiced beer, so flavouring agents were added to the wort to spike the natural yeast tastes. I am just no fan of foreign objects in my beer. You can say what you want against the Reinheitsgebot, there is nevertheless something to be appreciated about what one can do uniquely with those four basic ingredients in beer, which can be combined in unimaginably many different ways limited only by the brewmaster's imagination. Brewing is after all, not just science, but also art.

And so, after coming home from work on my bicycle on a wonderfully warm fall day, I took the Dominus Vobiscum Blanche outside into the eerie late afternoon light, with the fall mood still in full parade. And as already mentioned, the head I was able to build was fabulous- a white snow capped mountain peak that reached far beyond the rim of my mug. Take a peek!

 

I leave you with the dark and ominous clouds over the red sky of Charlevoix, which provides another fine sample of the fascinating beer labels in Quebec and, together with this entire post, nicely exemplifies something about which I had talked with a colleague earlier today. if you are wondering about the grainy picture, well that is so because the label on the bottle was faded, and what you get on this blog is only the unadulterated evidence.

Hacker-Pschorr Hefeweizen

Tonight, I had another liquid memory from the Munich days, even if this one is a sad story, in some ways. The Hacker-Pschorr Hefeweizen - and what a wonderfully opaque brew this is (see below for evidence), rich with yeast and satisfying as a result. For you folks out there having some trouble with the word Hefeweizen, it is pronounced "He-fuh-vai-tsen" and it literally means "Yeast-wheat", denoting of course the use of wheat malt and a secondary re-fermentation with yeast sediment in the bottle. But, while the beer is lovely, the story is not: Hacker-Pschorr is another German brewery gone, taken to the big boys' league and now haunting the world as "a brand without a brewery" (The Oxford Companion to Beer, p.415). It is a fallen institution in the Munich beer brewing scene, established in 1417, and always exotic because it is so much more difficult to pronounce for the English speaking world than the names of other local breweries (e.g., Spaten or Löwenbräu). It was snatched up by the Heineken Group, although not with a controlling interest, after first being acquired by the now gigantic Paulaner Brewery, also of Munich. My memories of Hacker-Pschorr are not vivid nor extensive, I just recall always having thought that the part after the hyphen epitomized a Bavarian sounding name.

Hacker-Pschorr will get the honor of starring together with the Canadian fall. This summer, we did not have much rain, and the fall weather has been gentle. In my neighbourhood, the maple leafs are in full bloom of red, orange, and gold colours, and after a good night's rain, many leafs have started to fall. My daughter and I collected some and then decorated the stage for the lovely Hacker-Pschorr Hefeweizen to give this fine German beer a worthy Canadian backdrop. But what do you say to a 6-year old when she asks you "Papa, why do you take pictures of beers?" My answer was along the lines of "well, you like playing with your Barbies and your Pollies ..."

And what a fine beer this is, quite different than even its Bavarian sisters in the Hefeweizen category that I have reviewed on these pages in previous posts (e.g., Schneiderweisse, Erdinger Weisse). It so gentle in the way the rich elixir flows over my palate that the only analogy I can only think of is eating a braided Easter bread loaf. The sweet malt and the yeast combine to create this effect, I think, and both aromas feature prominently also in the nose of this beer. The hops is very subtle, and the beer's balance seems to be complemented by some acidic clove and grapefruit notes in the yeast. Still, the palate is clean and dry, but without any real bitterness - quite remarkable. Note also the swivel top  bottle, which I always find delightful because you don't need a bottle opener and it is not a twist-top.

Oktoberfest des Quebecois

Oktoberfest in Quebec? Not as far fetched as you might think, even though Bavarian traditions have little real roots here, as the largest part of German immigrants to this province are apparently Hessian mercenaries invited by the British to help help defend against American invasions. But still, Bavaria has an official representation in Quebec, and likewise Quebec has an embassy-like office in Munich (I have proof of this from a photo I took there, but it was taken with an analogue camera and I do not have a scan handy). The two are clearly sister states/provinces, each thinking of itself as a distinct society within its country, each daydreaming (to varying degrees of seriousness) about secession, and each featuring a dialect that makes beer turn sour. As you might imagine, the Oktoberfest in Quebec, held about a month ago, had a serious presence from Bavaria, even as the event itself was held in a suburban location off Montreal island on the shores of the Saint Lawrence River.

Oktoberfest beer is commonly known to be a copper colour, Vienna lager or Märzen beer style, even though it is not really a style of its own. It simply means that the beer has been brewed especially for Bavaria's Oktoberfest, and the style of beer there has changed over the years. The honor to brew for Quebec's Oktoberfest was given to that wonderful outfit from Brossard: Les Trois Mousquetaires, which is our feature beer for this week. I wonder what the Bavarian representation thought of this, given that only breweries from Munich are officially allowed to supply Oktoberfest. Those guys at Trois Mousquetaires love their German beer styles, and for the most part they do a fine job. I would have to say, though, that there is a common taste to all their beers that strikes me as somewhat odd and that I would most closely associated with yeast.

Be that as it may, I did enjoy this beer, having had the opportunity to indulge in a mighty 750 ml bottle of what is billed as a strong beer on a fine fall day this weekend in the woods. As you can see below, it is a copper-reddish, unfiltered brew that builds a lovely foam head. It has a nice, caramel malt flavour that is also amazingly dry, and somehow this dryness is not entirely due to the well-balanced hop bitterness, which lingers subtly but affirmatively in the background. There is another acidic element contributing to the dryness of the palate, and I think it is the yeast, but I am not sure. Altogether, this well-balanced beer deserves to be downed in large quantities by all of you Oktoberfest maniacs out there. Ein Prosit!

Bishop's Best Bitter

Ah - Thanksgiving in Canada is today's holiday, and while it is clearly a secular celebration, the word holiday implies that something of a more ecclesiastical nature could be brought into the picture. So, while mixing the profane and the profound, let's get together those old partners in un-crime - brewery and church, which as we know have produced memorable partnerships over the centuries, particularly in the form of Trappist Breweries (such as Chimay and Orval) and Bieres D'Abbay in Belgium (such as Grimbergen and Maredsous), as well as Abteibrauereien in Germany (such as Andechs and Weihenstephan).

Our beer today comes from Quebec's longest operating brewery, the Golden Lion Brewery and Brewpub in Lennoxville. It opened its taps to the world in 1986, at roughly the same time as the Massawippi Brewing Company just around the corner in North Hatley. The latter was sold a few years later and eventually became Unibroue of Chambly. The Golden Lion is one of those regional phenomena, surviving on the strength of local success in Quebec's Eastern Townships, known there and to the devoted beerofiles in Quebec City and Montreal, but not much beyond. And why should they venture much further, as growth beyond the comfort zone can bring demise very quickly in this business? Unlike the Belgian and German alliances between heaven and earth mentioned above, The Golden Lion focuses on making British style ales. This Bishop's Best Bitter is full of double-entendre, bringing the vicar in touch with his suds, signalling the Brewery's association with the local post-secondary institution, Bishop's University, and opening a window in the wonderful tongue-in-cheek world of Quebec beer and beer label design.

This beer is perfectly placed between a traditional pale ale and an IPA, having a nice dark copper colour and creamy head that stood on its own like the white beard of an old monk sleeping in a hammock. Its nose is almost in IPA hops territory, featuring plenty of citrus and floral aromas. The malt is primarily dark caramel and toffee, but also producing a slight grain acidity that mingles well with the grapefruit hops tastes in the middle of the palate. The finish is at first quite spicy, with more grapefruit tangy, and then slowly blends into a lingering dry bitterness. Very satisfying, I must say, and worthy of its holy designation.

The bishop's delighted face on the label reminds me of a friend of mine after a few pints - a friend who shares his last name with the name of the town Lennoxville. How fitting!

IPA du Lièvre

I did not think that I would be able to get a beer starlet on stage this week, but a strange feeling compelled me to put one up at the very last minute. Mind you, this is a monster of a beer, judging by midget extinguisher standards: The IPA from la Microbrasserie du Lièvre in Mont Laurier, Quebec. On a Sunday evening, with the next work day looming, what stronger force might there be than a 1 l jug of 6% beer to help you start the week in style? And how I adore that swivel top bottle, which would have made a fine addition to my collection of Fischer Bitter bottles that I used back when I was still brewing at home.

Stephen Beaumont reports in the second edition of his great Canadian Beer guide that when this brewery opened for business in January 2000, the first batch was given away for free to the guests at the opening ceremony. That's what you might want to call class! If you go and check out the beers from this brewery, you will also find yet another good example of the fine artwork that we have here in Quebec on our beer bottles. Many of the labels of du Lièvre seem to mix Carlos Castaneda with Tim Burton's the Nightmare before Christmas. IPA, of course, is a beer style that always needs to have that tiny extra kick, a little more alcohol and many little - or big - shovels full of hops to make sure that the beer does not go bad on the long journey to India. Just in case you did not now, both alcohol and hops act as preserving agents in beer, and when sailing around the Cape of Good Hope, no-one wants to fend off scurvy with rotten ale. If the Suez Canal had been dug in earlier times, the world of beer might just have been poorer for the absence of this fabulous style.

The IPA du Lièvre certainly is an IPA typical of those found in Quebec: it is quite malty, loaded with dark caramel and burnt toast notes, and even its appearance makes you think more copper or red ale, than pale ale. The beer does have a lovely floral hop character that balances well with the caramel malts, first by spicing up the sweetness of the front palate and then by rounding out the middle palate with a rich haystack pungency. The back palate is wonderfully clean, with some burnt toast lingering on for a short while. And, there is plenty to have as the evening progresses.

Pale or not, that is the question:

Dancing hare (lièvre) with spear, juiced up on peyote buttons and ready for the Halloween dance with Jack the Pumpkin King.

Skunk-off: Beck's versus Stella Artois

Today, I hosted yet another beer-off: Beck's beer of Bremen in Germany against Stella Artois of Leuven in Belgium. Both beers are the same Northeren Pilsner lager style and both come in the unholy green bottle that can give beer a skunky aroma as a result of chemical compounds in the hops interacting with sunlight. Hence, we call this a skunk-off, and it will be a decathlon. The following disciplines are part of the competition: (1) Serving format; (2) Bottle cap; (3) Label; (4) Skuniness; (5) Malt bubble; (6) Appearance; (7) Head; (8) Malt taste; (9) Hops taste; (10) Lacing. Let the skunkiest beer be the winner! An added twist to this competition is that both brands are owned by AB-Inbev. Stella Artois actually was among the first brands of this now multi-tentacled ungulate conglomerate leviathan back in the 1990s when they were only a Belgian company (not an American-Belgian-Brazilian company) and called Interbrew. Beck's got swallowed up around 2002, after having been owned by Bremen family interests for centuries. How will the two sisters compare? How much do they cannibalize each other's market share?

It is a good thing that both contestants come in mighty 660 ml bottles, as I happened to experience a particularly ferocious thirst today, having played a soccer match in the afternoon and refusing to replenish with water in anticipation of this event. Don't ask why the content of these bottles is 660 ml - it may as well be 666 ml - but oddly enough, the odd quantity of the one is mimicked by the other. Maybe this is so because one source says that Stella Artois is actually bottled at the Beck's brewery in Bremen. Go figure, and this means Tie match!

On to the bottle caps. Stella's cap is covered by the paper neck label, and features its ornate brand design on a white background. Beck's comes out on top here, with a sleek red, black, and silver colour combo and using its well known Key logo to good effect.

The labels feature the same colour combination, and so it all comes down to the design of the main logo. Stella's label reflects the heritage of beer from a Belgian brewery called Den Horen (The horn), which is the original name of its producer, Beck's logo is derived from the city symbol of its hometown Bremen. This is a tough call, and while I think the design of Beck's key logo has more aesthetic style, Stella's inclusion of a barley, hops leaf, and a hops cone give it the edge.

Time to open the bottles and stick my gherkin inside, as the skunk notes must be caught immediately after snapping the cap. Beck's wins this competition by a nose hair's breadth. Both beers are quite skunky, but the aroma that belched out of the Beck's bottle was so pungent that the neighbours thought someone had run over a skunk! The next task is to pour and build a nice head for these two contestants. I also compared the malt bubbles that come out of the bottle following the first swig, and Beck's once again has its nose in front here. Stella's bubble did not quite make it out, and giving the bottle a second jig produced a bubble that was not only smaller than the one coming out of the Beck's bottle on first swig, but it also burst much more quickly. What you cannot see is that because of a stiff breeze, the Beck's bubble was actually dancing in the wind when I took its picture.

Stella Artois:

Beck's:

The appearance of both beers is very pale and clear as water - of course we would expect no less of two such reputed brands with great pedigree. Neither has the edge here, but Stella Artois built a far nicer foam with smaller, more uniform bubbles and slightly less fizzing that produced a taller head. Not well documented in the picture above is also the fact that Stella built a much more elegant volcano top.

The taste of the two beers evidences their shared roots in a multinational ogre firm. The malt character of both is disappointing, given their European provenance. Beck's gives us the more adventurous tune here, combining some acidic and floral hops notes with the white bread of malt, whereas Stella Artois offers a stale bread malt character that seems excessively sweet and reminds me of ashtray. Stella's sweetness also lingers in a way that seems a bit awry for a Pilsner style, and while a notable hop bitterness joins the malts and balances well, it does not manage to clean the palate. Beck's has a similar bitterness, but it does clean the palate nicely to a crisp finish. Well done, you town musicians of Bremen!

The last competition is the lacing, and as you might guess by Stella's superior performance on the head, it also wins the lacing comparison, as can be seen below!

Bottom line: Beck's won five competitions, including the two critical taste tests, there were two draws, and Stella won three. Are any of you surprised the German beer won? Prost!

Creemore Springs Lager

This baby has been sitting in my beer fridge for a good month, and every time I went there to get a cold one, I started drooling but nevertheless resisted the temptation to take her out because I wanted to wait for an opportunity to have a photo shoot. Finally, the time had arrived and Creemore Springs lager finally gets her day in the spot light! This beer, brewed in the town of Creemore in Ontario, one also evokes fond memories of my youth, although of the Canadian part. Having come to this country in the early 1980s as a teenager, I found myself stumped by the fact that I left a place where I was able to drink beer almost but not quite legally because nobody really took this matter all too seriously (being one year short of the official drinking age of 16) to arrive in some Puritan backwater wannabe metropolis called Toronto, the legal age for drinking was 19 - older than the legal age for driving, a combination that never made any sense to me whatsoever. On top of that, the situation was truly bleak for an aspiring beer snob - a wasteland of horrible mass-produced beer that all tasted alike and had no discerning flavours whatsoever (think Molson Canadian, Labatt Blue et al.).

It took about 3 or 4 years, until the arrival of Upper Canada Brewing, for the darkness to lift, and Creemore Springs soon followed, having opened its doors in 1987. What a God-send this fine brew was, a beacon of light among the grim and foul-smelling excrement that still dominated the beer stores at that time. And let me point out that the beer store itself was a smudge of scum on the landscape - a monopolizing retailer that made you feel like you were purchasing something with the intention of destroying the moral foundation of society - nothing on display, only a list of products; you place your order, upon which one troglodyte clerk sent that order via intercom to another one back in the stock room, after which your brews would get shoved through a hole in the wall on a roller belt. Anyway, I fondly remember the 500 ml bottle in which Creemore sold their beer in back then. I don't know when they changed to selling primarily in cans, and while I am happy to see they are above the midget extinguisher standard, I do wonder who thought of the 473 ml quantity that deprives me of those precious 27 ml. Clearly this must be some relic of the archaic Imperial measures system (27 ml equals about 1 fluid ounce), which surprisingly still dominates the great backwater we call the USA as I write this.

Creemore is today owned by Molson, who acquired them around 2004 or 2005. I remember once talking to a Creemore rep at a beer festival, who told me that Molson is taking the hands-off approach so as not to destroy the legions of loyal followers. While this seems hard to believe, the quality of the beer has remained relatively unchanged, and only in the past few years have Creemore deviated from their admirable course of sticking to one flagship brand, with one or two seasonal brews. Lately, they have added an Alt to their portfolio, which I have not yet been able to sample but am looking forward to pouring down my thirsty gullet at the first opportunity that presents itself.

The original premium lager is brewed in the Vienna lager style - a copper beer with ample sweet notes and nice caramel flavours. I found it quite interesting that after writing down my tasting notes and comparing them to the description provided on the can, there was an astonishing amount of overlap. For me, the outstanding characteristics of this beer are a slight acidic malt kick that turns into subtle floral hops notes. Overall, the beer is well balanced with a long malt sweetness that gets cut dry by a bitterness that comes and goes in an instant. The mouthfeel could be richer (and perhaps it once was), and I found the bubbles were rather unstable, making it difficult to build a good head - how disappointing. Possibly this is one small piece of evidence of the long austerity arm of Molson reaching into my pint.

The Creemore Spring: