The Bistro IPA Festival: Beyond Clarity

In the inevitable march of beer evolution, this year has seen several unclear milestones.  Just last year, while respected veterans of the beer community were still saying “hazy over my dead body,” Gail and Steve of Beer By BART judged a hazy category for the California State Fair commercial competition, which inspired some thought about what is good and bad NEIPA in the style.  Since then, the Brewers Association has added Hazy or Juicy IPA as a style for the upcoming World Beer Cup competition.  And yesterday, the venerable IPA Festival at the Bistro, in Hayward, California, offered medals to both sides of the IPA bifurcation. And the best of each were awesome!

Congrats to the winners and to the Bistro!


As you can read, hazy darlings Moonraker took the gold for West Coast IPA, with sliver to Triple Rock, Bronze to Alpha Acid and Honorable Mention to Auburn.

[Moonraker on the podium with Vic Kralj / Expert volunteers ready to pour samples.]

For the first NEIPA (aka hazy or juicy) Gold, SF’s Cellarmaker came in first, followed by New Glory, and Offshoot, the new brand from the Bruery.  Cheers!


[DDH Cantaloupe Island tastes like it sounds.  Mellons stole that gold.]


Explore Beer By BART: Use our list of some of the San Francisco Bay Area’s best beer places with detailed transit info, so you can get out there to enjoy without driving.



Flake News: Celebrator turns -30-

Celebrator Beer News turns 30 this February, marked by a popular annual bash and two very distinctive brews made at cherished and award-winning Bay Area breweries.  Flake News, an audacious Russian Imperial Oatmeal Stout from Marin Brewing Co. and -30-, a splashy Triple IPA from Drake’s Brewing Co. will arrive at Bay Area beer destinations during SF Beer Week.  The names came from a brainstorming session between writers Gail Ann Williams and Steve Shapiro and Celebrator Publisher and Editor in Chief Tom Dalldorf.

“We just kept going until we got all the really egregious  puns out of our systems,” said perhaps one of them – imagining that a press release or post needing a quote would inevitably follow. “The final round was an overnight marathon in the California mountains. Beer cellars were dented. Bad puns were vented.”

When the hop dust cleared, two names with implied concepts stood.  For Flake News Russian Imperial Oatmeal Stout, a request went out to owner Brandan Moylan and Arne Johnson, much-decorated Brewmaster and veteran recipe designer at Marin Brewing Co. in Larkspur, CA. The journalists “collaborated” with the Brewmaster via supplying the name and a request for flaked oats – plus the tiniest whiff of label copy revisionism. Johnson and his crew did the actual beer-making portion of the beer creation. This beer will be available in bottles, so there is indeed a label, designed in keeping with Marin’s branding.  (Except, what is that, the impossibility of a black swan infiltrating the art? Or stranger still, a black egret replacing the usual white bird logo? Totally flake news!)

Flake News2 '17

The copy on the label reads,

We brewed this stout to honor our friends at the Celebrator Beer News, on the occasion of their 30th Anniversary. The Celebrator was serving up its unique brand of Flake News even prior to the Cold Beer War. So convincing is their hopaganda, many still believe that their secret annual shareholders meeting in Siberia is really some sort of exotic Alaskan Beer Cruise. Thanks for 30 years of Flake News, Comrades!
Consider Putin some away for aging. Best served with an icy shot of Stillwater Vodka accompanied by the latest issue of the Celebrator.

This beer is still in progress and it’s already the very best Flaked-Oat-driven Russian Imperial Stout – ever!  Flaked oats add a silky, velvet sensation to an opaque monster of a beer. Believe me!

But wait, there’s more.

Because the Drake’s Brewing Co. collaboration was to be a draft-only production, collaborating on label copy was out of the equation. The written word part of the Celebrator contribution shrunk to a single symbol, the classic reporter’s signal that the column or feature (or fermentation?) has come to a conclusion. Banging on a bot-resistant piece of engineering called a  “typewriter,” reporters would enter -30- to wrap up a piece. That is the name of this Triple IPA.

John Martin, proprietor of Drake’s, Jupiter and the nearly 32-year-old Triple Rock Brewpub in Berkeley – old enough to be covered when the Celebrator launched 30 years ago – got the Celebrator’s request to do a collaboration beer.  Drake’s acclaimed Brewmaster John Gillooly took Tom Dalldorf’s old and new hop suggestion (with Gail mumbling “Idaho 7” over Tom’s shoulder) and concocted -30- as a Triple IPA with a portion of locally floor-malted Admiral Maiden Voyage malt and copious quantities of Amarillo, Cascade, Idaho 7 and Simcoe in the dry hop addition.


In the spirit of collaboration, Drake’s invited Steve and Gail to the dry-hopping day. Look at all that golden hop dust in the funnel.  (See how hard these journalist collaborators worked? This collaboration was flake news, too!)

Good news:  The partially-finished 11.5% ABV Triple India Pale Ale was already smooth and seductive, with the finishing touches still to come.  In a few weeks, it will splash into glasses around the Bay where people will sip until the last drop, and then sigh,


More about the Celebrator Anniversary Party where both beers will be poured on Saturday, February 17, 2018 from 4 to 8 pm at the Trumer Brewery in Berkeley, California. It’s a benefit for the worthy and vital California Craft Brewers Association!

More about Marin Brewing Co.

More about Drake’s Brewing Co.

P.S. from Beer By BART:    Steve and I first wrote about SF Beer Week for Celebrator Beer News in 2012. (The pictures there are pretty cool!)  Our regional Beer Week was then entering its 4th year. The Celebrator turned 24 that week. In just the six years since then, the beer landscape has shifted dramatically in fearsome and wondrous ways. The Celebrator helped us grow as writers and make friends. We raise our glasses to the esteemed pioneers who understood that an emerging community needs its own media, 30 years ago. And to publisher Tom Dalldorf for keeping it alive.

See you at the Party!

-Gail Ann Williams



At Drake’s.

Explore Beer By BART: Use our list of some of the San Francisco Bay Area’s best beer places with detailed transit info, so you can get out there to enjoy without driving.

Welcome to the Memorable Ephemeral Dream Fest

(In response to a call for writing about the perfect festival. More about that below.)00-thesession150

Welcome to the Memorable Ephemeral Dream Fest! You walk into a pleasant park on a perfect sunny day for the spring beer festival you’ve been waiting for, and it goes something like this. First, you are delighted to see a genuinely diverse crowd with a rainbow of happy faces and bouquet of ages. People are lined up to try beers but you notice that the longest lines are only about six deep.

There is plenty of interest in all the brewers, so nobody is twiddling their thumbs looking desperate behind the jocky box. Which my spelling program tried to correct to cocky box. By the way, it goes without saying. Plenty of women. Whoa, are there more women than men? And women brewers and female beer industry folks are happily pouring a rainbow of beer flavors. Queues move at a moderate pace, but nobody seems impatient. Everybody seems to be relaxed and engaged in conversation.

Looking around, you feel like you are in a dream. It’s easy to see which brewer is at which table. Because of clear signage, you can see what is pouring before you get up to the front of the modest line. Fumbling with a phone is not necessary or even all that fun in this environment. So maybe there’s no cell reception at all! (You haven’t even checked – you can post a few selfies later. You are ridiculously in the Now.)

There are attractive drinking water stations everywhere, and dump buckets without shame. While the brewery reps can spritz your glass with a spray bottle of water as they pour, or let you rinse with a glass of clean water from a convenient pitcher while you take a drink, there are also rinse stations you can use yourself. They’re cleverly designed to avoid spreading viruses and the like. Oh, and the water is delicious. There’s also free iced tea with lemon and sugar optional. Some other non-alcoholic drinks seem to be for sale over yonder.

Food. First, one simple free item and plenty of it. Near each cluster of brewers is a table laden with baskets of bread, freshly sliced as it comes to the table. Beautiful, varied bread. Dark and light, crusty and soft, with a basket or two of crackers and breadsticks for crunch. Cheesy breads, raisin breads. Bread that could be called artisan if we were going to go there. Bread that needs no topping. All naked, simple and free. What, is this a wine event? The bread is included with the beer? If you forgot breakfast or want to reset your palate, you’re golden. If you are drinking a little too much too fast, here’s mercy for your system. My god, is this a dream? Oh, wait, it’s my dream. And one reasonable kind of free food is in it.

Want more food choices? OK, that can cost extra. Cheese can be purchased. Food trucks are fine. There’s variety so that veggies and foodies and people on a bit of a budget can survive. And anybody who thinks bread is adding carb insult to caloric injury can buy a salad. Options are good.

beerfest drawing
Dream of the ideal festival. In a park setting, how about?

There are things to do and see and hear, too. You can talk by the beer booths or venture to a stage. Stages, maybe. For varied music and perhaps some kind of spoken word. Beer-related panels can be interesting. So there they are. You can sit at tables by the stage and a server will come by pouring tastes of something easy-going from a pitcher. Oh, designated drivers get lemonade served. And they can get back massages. They are having a great time dancing in a strangely graceful and coordinated cluster near the stage. I think they all wish this festival was more frequent, but the annual timing is part of what makes it feel memorable and ephemeral.

There is a signature style at Memorable Ephemeral Dream Fest. Hey, it’s my dream, so the style is mixed fermentation (American sour, lambic or mixed fermentation saisons, how about?). However, brewers have been invited to offer one beer in the invited style and, if they wish, a different beer for the second tap. So after that funky beer there’s a malty or hoppy beer for contrast. For beer-on-beer pairing purposes.

There are scores of toilets. Armies of portable toilets march over the landscape, accompanied by hand washing stations that don’t run out of water. No, wait. Wait. There are plenty of indoor toilets in attractive clean buildings. Hmm. Buildings that would disrupt the park-like environs. Well, whatever they are in this dream there are many of them and trash is being collected during the fest. Soap and toilet paper are kept stocked. Waits are short for both men and women. Seriously, how difficult is this?

While we’re at it, this festival involves some time travel. There isn’t a whiff of desperation or greed in the air, and nobody cares about global beer giants because the big corps just don’t get it. This is an alternate history of dare-we-call-it-craft beer where it’s still the darling an intense subculture, but an open and diverse one…

Dammit, that woke me right out of the dream. I didn’t even get to how nobody is behaving extremely badly or drinking vomitous quantities.

So, the Memorable Ephemeral Dream Fest is not something I’d try to create. But it does make me wonder what I want in a festival.

I do seem to have unreasonable demands. When I travel, I want a locals-only event. At home, I like to see some visitors in the line up! Most of the time, anyway.

[Disclosure – I can’t stop thinking about the SF Beer Week Opening Gala, an imperfect but beloved festival I look forward to every year though it is Northern California/Greater Bay Area local. So I guess that local and travel equation isn’t true for me. I’m working as part-time publicist for SF Beer Week, meaning I’m hoping others will write about all the related events. So getting into the pros and cons of a massive distributed regional fest like Beer Week or looking at any of the fests it includes would feel a little awkward right now.] But yes, I can think of local-only gatherings of the beer community that are meaningful, rewarding and not to be missed. So I seem to like beer events like I like beer styles. Meaning that a variety of approaches means adventure means I’m in.

While alternate history beer science fiction could be a cool festival genre, let’s look at the attainable parts of Memorable Ephemeral Dream Fest.

Easy aspects include:

  • Many toilets, cleaned and resupplied during the festival. Oh, and empty the garbage cans, too. (Beer. It’s really a janitor thing all the way!)
  • Honor the dump bucket. Brewers can help by suggesting a taste and dump so that nobody is chugging a beer they don’t love to try the other one fast. Or even chugging a good beer when they know there are too many good beers to try.  Ok, that’s going to make me make a shirt that says I AM NOT A DUMP BUCKET. Dump proudly and kindly!
  • Water, water everywhere. Yummy water. Hydrate!
  • I like getting my glass rinsed. There are sanitation issues with cold-water rinsers used with dirty glasses (as opposed to sanitized washed glasses in a bar with a rinser) but that can be sorted out. We need rinsing, and it should be safe. Festivals such as Zythos, in Belgium, offer hot water washing before rinsing, for example, though it’s hard to imagine brewery peeps doing that on a Sunday afternoon. Innovation, please.
  • Sunday afternoon! In California, a law prevents distributors from delivering on Sundays and the beer delivery biz likes it that way, which I get. But this leftover blue-law prohibitionism is maddening. Alcohol and religion should both be optional choices for responsible adults. America is awash in stupid leftover “blue law” restrictions that solve no problems.
  • How do you get all the brewers to see plenty of interested beer drinkers line up? There is the option of the curated, elite fest. They are fun! But the joy of an inclusive beer community vibe is part of the Memorable Ephemeral Dream Fest allure. And newcomers are interesting! Some are good out of the gate and others evolve magnificently over time. What if there was a giveaway of some kind based on stamping a passport when you try the ingenue breweries’ wares, amplifying interest in unknown breweries as a kind of treasure hunt? We know there’s flawed beer in the marketplace, so another service a festival could offer would be to have skilled blind tasters screen beers the morning of a fest. “Sir, that keg is a butter bomb so we’ll pull it aside. Let’s sample your backup.” (That’s a crazy thing. It could be useful if done well. but who’d want to put up with it?) Perhaps there’s no foolproof fix to varied beer quality and open call festivals.
  • Let’s make things fun and good for designated drivers in places without public transportation. Then their tickets don’t have to be so cheap that it concerns producers if there are too many of them, right? Give value to DDs.
  • I have gone to wine festivals (well, years ago) where there were mountains of glorious free bread near the water. Why not? If I do have to buy food, please have mercy on those of us who don’t eat meat. Omnivores like the vegetarian options, too, if they are good food.
  • Having music adds to costs, but it gives us another festival element to enjoy and makes a longer time frame more comfortable.
  • I asked my husband, Steve, what he wishes for and he suggested better signage particularly where there will indeed be big lines for some brewers. Who is this line for and what are they pouring? Oh, and can you come up with an insignia that means this stand will have timed releases so that is obvious, too? After that, we can all spread rumors in the queue, but some baseline info really helps.
  • Keep brewers happy. That’s another article entirely, but in the near-dream world you offer a brewer’s vacation retreat behind the scenes, buy their beer rather than finding a non-profit partner and getting a donation (unless you the producing entity are a non-profit, natch) and get the load-in time, ice and supplies, break time coverage and such worked out with brewer consultation.

Now we get into the hard stuff. There are charity festivals that cost a lot and raise nearly nothing for the charity. This is a hard one to think about. I have written about festivals, and often don’t ask about that, or I ask that day and get a vague guess about the gross and not the costs. Maybe this should matter.

For-profit festivals that make nothing or lose serious money are less concerning to the patrons. But it’s hard to see people of modest means put together a festival and take a drubbing that extends to their personal savings. And that does happen.

I’m paying how much and there’s no [fill in the blank]? Grumble, grumble. Maybe transparency about costs would be useful. What percent of that big ticket price goes to the venue, the insurance and the portapotties? A staff worked on this for how many months? The costs are a mystery to all.

Nobody behaved badly in my fantasy. People happily paced their consumption. Designated drivers weren’t sneaking in flasks. Beer drinkers weren’t guzzling until they fell over. Those are not easy problems to address in the real world. Two strategies help, but neither is as pleasant for the responsible partygoer. In general, festivals that cost a lot or have you purchase tokens after you use up your initial allotment seem to offer fewer issues.  Fewer wretchedly drunk participants at last call, to be specific. But high prices and the need for token purchases are annoying to practically everyone. This, too, is why I am not producing fests. Some seem to want to plop down a a fist full of twenties on a beer fest and then still feel they only get value by passing out on the floor. Or they miscalculate and the effect is the same. What can we do about that?

And then there’s beerfest fatigue – outside of the people doing it for a living, where it’s understandable. If you are a crusty, grouchy burnout at any age, STFU. Festivals are no longer mandatory. You can go to a taproom and let beer fest people be happy elsewhere without you. If you are still eagerly exploring beer, go forth and enjoy. But if you are not jaded, but you no longer feel the community connection to people attending and people pouring that keeps a lot of us going back, perhaps there are things to be done. Talking to people really helps! Have a mission, like learning about new breweries first or finding out whether people made their own pretzel necklaces, even.

I hate those necklace things though I know that’s trivial and unfair. (Oh, god, maybe I’m a bit jaded, too?) But the artisan bread baskets provide a solution to this scourge… there is hope, I swear.


This is part of The Session – which you can learn about at Brian Yaeger’s blog.

The magic vessel goes onward – the Rare Barrel hands off pH1 to Purpose Brewing

Where in the world is the most famous sour beer aging vessel of all? Home again to the man who scrawled pH1 on the French wine barrel years ago!

Once upon a time, at the beginnings of American sour beer, six used wine barrels were purchased by Peter Broukeart, the Belgian brewmaster at a young Colorado brewery. He treated the six barrels differently, hoping to get a head start on the complex learning ahead. And he recruited a dedicated employee who had stepped in to start a sensory program for the fresh beers they were releasing, Lauren Salazar. She would tend the beers that went into the barrels and eventually choose the best beers to blend into a sour wood-aged beer for New Belgium Brewing Co.

160120_5353Two of those barrels, pre-acidified to start the process at a different pH level, were named pH1 and pH2. The pre-treatment may have been what made the pH1 barrel such a favorable micro environment, or maybe something magical had been alive in the wine that formerly filled it. The story of how Lauren came to see pH1 as her most reliable barrel – respectfully calling pH1 “her” rather than “it” – and how Peter gave the barrel away to Vinnie Cilurzo to benefit Russian River Brewing’s young sour program… and how it was later rediscovered and sent on the road… Well, it has become American brewing folklore. And yet it’s true.

We told more of the tale of how the wooden vessel had ended up at the Berkeley sour beer palace named for the story in this article a year and a half ago. Lauren and pH1 are at the center of the tale, and Peter is the least engaged with the emotional heart of the tale. But now that changes.

Yesterday, Jay Goodwin and Alex Wallash showed up at the new brewery co-owned by Peter Bouckaert, who left New Belgium earlier this year to start his own place, Purpose Brewing and Cellars. With a gift. The founders of The Rare Barrel brought pH1 back to the brewer who originally launched this barrel into barrel aging history.

IMG_0732(Photo thanks to the Rare Barrel)

Alex told us one of the best things was that Peter said someday he will pass this still exemplary and rare barrel forward.

It will be a little sad not seeing her in the stack at The Rare Barrel in Berkeley, but this barrel is as much about beer friendships as about beer making. Onward!

Session Round-up: Hazy, Cloudy, Juicy: IPA’s strange twist 

The Session, a.k.a. Beer Blogging Friday, is an open community gathering where beer bloggers coordinate to write about a single topic. Each month, a different beer writer from around the world steps up to play host to the Session, chooses a topic and creates a round-up review of all of the submissions, for the benefit of participants and blog readers alike. You can find a log of all of The Sessions and get involved in future topics on Brookston Beer Bulletin. This is the wrap-up for #126.

I asked “What’s the deal with these beers?”  and then asserted,  “We’re going to find out together.” 

That may have been just a bit optimistic.  One thing I learned is that the controversy is still alive and well.  Also, much is still  — forgive me — unclear about the borders of this style, sub-style or deviation.

Let’s start with two short strong opinions.  Reuben Gray at Tale Of Ale started with a willingness to accept these beers but simply got bored and a little annoyed by the lack of good old bitterness. The bottom line? It’s ultimately a matter of preference. And looks still have an effect.  “Some of them also look like a glass of bile.”

Jack Perdue expresses the view from the other side of the hazy divide at his Deep Beer blog. He does express a touch of appearance skepticism, with a theory about the common packaging choice for the style that has probably crossed a few minds hereabouts, but goes to on touch on the importance of appreciative beer drinking friends, the joy of beer discovery, and the innovations yet to come. “I love the way the beer scene has meandered. First traditional European beers, industrial beer (I don’t love that), IPAs, and hybrids (mixing of styles). So, New England IPAs is another joyful iteration in the crazy world of brewing beer. It is a wonderful time to be a beer drinker!

Also, for those watching established breweries jump on board or try to cash in, depending on your viewpoint and their success at it, he mentions two interesting adaptations in the US mid-Atlantic area.   teenyhopLOGO

Another notable marker for the current state of acceptance is that there is still intentional agnosticism about the characteristics and definitions in this realm of beers.  Stan Hieronymus is still learning about these beers, seeking science — including sensory science — on what is going on within them.  At Appellation Beer, Stan talks of leading a tasting of these beers alongside clear IPAs.  “The hazy beers were different, and excellent in their own way. Rather obviously brewers are learning to wring more out of odor compounds in hops and consumers are willing to pay for the experience. There’s more science to be figured out…”


Toronto’s Gary Gillman at Beer Et Seq. asserts that a 40 year increase in acceptance of visual haze led to this style, based on a misunderstanding of the degree of clarity of a traditional “unfiltered” English ale.  “Unfiltered in English practice meant the beers were fined on cask to ensure a clear pint.” He sees these beers as simply another form of the American adaptation of the English IPA tradition that started with Anchor Liberty Ale and the Cascade hop, keeping these new beers within the family.


One thing that’s impressive is that those in this iteration of the conversation who dislike these beers still seem to be open to liking something hazy if it satisfies.  Californian Derrick Peterman of Ramblings of a Beer Runner starts by saying he’s not a fan, then gives a shout-out to a Sante Adarius Rustic Ales for a hazy farmhouse IPA, and defends experimental brewing.  But he has no respect for slavish trend-followers.  “Call yourself a “craft brewer” all you want, but if you’re chasing fads by resorting to brewing gimmicks like using flour or generating excessive yeast and grain in suspension, you’ve lost any right to claim you’re brewing with honesty, integrity and a passion for brewing excellence, even if you slap the Brewers Association Independence Seal on your label.”   teenyhopLOGO

At Mark Ciocco’s Kaedrin blog, yeast is the thing.  Appearance is secondary to the flavors and textures of the appropriate juicy yeast.  (For anyone who has not followed along, many yeasts have been used, but the consensus is to use one that’s not very flocculent and was derived from an English yeast that was generally fined to achieve clarity for centuries.)  For Mark it’s not about appearance, so imitating looks will not make a successful beer.

Mark prefers the idea of simply allowing the category definition of American IPA to include hazy and less bitter to encompass these beers as IPAs rather than putting them into a novel style. However, he takes the time to define the New England IPA based on both the yeast and the ingredients. His proposed flaws when judging the style would be grainy mouthfeel and staling. Appearance and bitterness can have a lot of variation:   “I’ve had some of these that are no cloudier than an equivalent unfiltered West Coast IPA. Of course, I’ve had others that literally look like orange juice or chicken broth, but again, not an absolute requirement. Bitterness tends to be lower, but it doesn’t need to be (I suspect the juicy character leads to a sweeter perception no matter what the IBU).”

This is such a feel-good post, with its happy growler picture.


At The Beer Nut, Irish blogger John Duffy notes that not every brewery is up to the task of delivering juiciness. He delves into the promises made by appearance and aroma, and the curious confusion that happens when a hazy beer has more bitterness than expected. He has an appreciation for the diversity of good examples, yet still manages to deliver this visual description for the virtual slide-show: “It’s typically unattractive, with a dense custard-like appearance topped by a desultory effort at a head, but the flavour immediately exploded outward in a riot of ripe tropical fruit…”   Reading the rest will make you thirsty.


Joe Tindall checks in from the UK on his The Fatal Glass of Beer blog. His defining description adds to our visual image of these beers, “cloudy bordering on murky, often brewed with oats for maximum fluffy mouthfeel and smooth, juice-like texture, and hopped only in the whirlpool for intense hop flavour and aroma with minimal bitterness.”  He likes these beers, and asks brewers who disdain them, “But is it really necessary to mock other brewery’s products in order to sell your own? The inference here is, ‘we have a new beer, but it’s not one of those stupid New England IPAs everyone else is making. It’s proper beer.’”  

He speaks to the diversity of flavors, and of hybrid approaches that, “like Cloudwater’s recent IIPA Centennial, marry the East and West coast approaches beautifully, using the intensity of the New England style to beef up the fleshy citrus quality of a now relatively old-school hop variety.”

And when he takes some of the critics to task, he makes an analogy to the What’s Brewing Letter Page, which, with a little googling, takes us into the back pages of CAMRA for a touch of the history of beer righteousness debates. (I was gleeful to read that, probably because I didn’t have to live through those particular arguments.)


Brian Yaeger blogs about his initial skepticism about the juicy beers, from the current vantage point of being “firmly in the camp of take it or leave it.”

Recently relocated in California after being embedded in the Portland, Oregon beer scene, he traces the rise in popularity of the style there, and considers one of the reasons these beers may meet with disdain. ” …some adult beer drinkers slag these adult-beverages that sorta-somehwat appeal to more juvenile palates. They are fruity and juicy and sweet and, well, nostalgic. But hey, it’s not like the industry doesn’t have its share of famous beers that famously taste like Mexican chocolate cake or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups or Cinnamon Toast Crunch, so there’s no reason to get sanctimonious about what other people enjoy in their glass of beer.”

It’s really interesting when a beer made from nothing but traditional brewing ingredients can be suspect for seeming like a hop-flavored alcopop. Weird times in beer land!teenyhopLOGO

Finally, my own post is here on the Beer By BART blog. Prompted by many conversations, including some during a recent judging event, I wanted to start to note for myself what makes this a style or sub-style.  And if they all fit together, what’s great?  And what’s a fail?

My current top ten Hazy IPA flaws include “too flabby,” “baby aspirin yeast bite” and any perceptible oatmeal or dough-like flavor.  Not sure making a list helps anybody else think about these beers, but beginning to define what I like and dislike is a natural process for me. I like some of these beers very much indeed, but am still grabbing a Blind Pig at the ballpark if I go to a baseball game.  Maybe something from Cellarmaker afterwards. Beauty comes in many forms.


And now for a grand summary and unifying theory.  I see gradual community progress in figuring out how to understand this beer innovation, and acceptance that tastes will differ.  There is faddish behavior, and that can rankle, but the discussion has gotten beyond the idea that intentional haze is the same as a production flaw.  Our responses paint a composite portrait of where the beer community is with this kind of beer at this point in beer history and point the way to further conversations to be had.

Also, there are a ton of great story or manifesto angles within this discussion.  Thanks for these lovely posts.  I believe the next session will be hosted at Alistar Reese’s Fuggled, though as of right now his topic is not up yet.  Onward!

– Gail Ann Williams


Explore Beer By BART: Use our list of some of the San Francisco Bay Area’s best beer places with detailed transit info, so you can get out there to enjoy without driving.


Post your links for the Session #126

Hazy, Cloudy, Juicy: IPA’s strange twist

What’s the deal with these beers?  We’re going to find out together.

Welcome back to post your link to your content for the August 4th installment of The Sessions, a.k.a. Beer Blogging Friday! 


Here’s the announcement post, for reference.  

On August 4, after you post your blog, add the URL pointing to your brand new post. Put it in a comment below on this page or on the announcement page.  I’ll check both.  Or, to get some buzz going, tweet your link with the hashtag #thesession or alert me directly @beerbybart on Twitter.

Monday I’ll do a round-up of all of the submissions and make links back to your work.  So, post today for impact, or wrap it up over the weekend.  

Cheers to August’s Beer Blogging Friday, aka The Session!

-Gail Ann Williams

Explore Beer By BART: Use our list of some of the San Francisco Bay Area’s best beer places with detailed transit info, so you can get out there to enjoy without driving.

Judging Juicy Beers: What makes a top quality Hazy IPA?

Ok, do you see the following image as a drool-inducing beauty or a muddy-tasting beast? For many beer drinkers, accepting hazy IPA (and its many cloudy cousins such as pale ales, DIPAs etc.) has been difficult. Clarity has been considered a signifier of quality in most beer styles, so the more you knew about beer making, the harder it was to take that first sip. The excitement expressed by fans and the widespread disdain from detractors has been about as polarized as beer preference can be.


This intentionally soft, minimally bitter, hop-flavored variety has emerged over the past two decades, with most of the excitement centered on Vermont and New England in general. Hence, it’s becoming widely known as the New England IPA, or NEIPA,  However, unfiltered dry-hopped beers elsewhere in the land helped to push towards the look of the style as well.

Recently, my husband (and Beer By BART co-founder) Steve and I took part in a blind judged commercial competition, where a new category — style number 99 — was grafted onto the existing competition style lists to accommodate beers made with this style in mind.  Which is great because there are good beers competing but challenging since an emerging style by definition has no official description and the intentions of the brewers may not even be similar.

I didn’t serve on category 99 that day myself, though Steve did, but the inclusion gave me plenty to think about.  At one point, I was on a panel with one other diligent judge, carefully evaluating a flight of nine American IPAs.  Like in a lot of commercial competition flights, most were good, just not awesome.  Classic brewing flaws were few and far between.  We were to pass only one beer forward to the next round.  To our delight, it wasn’t even close. There was one beer that the other judge and I both felt was exquisite.  It was bright and clear, brightly aromatic in the circus-tropical range and delicately complex all the way through to a moderate but firm bitter finish with tropical hop flavors that lingered beautifully.  We were both wowed by this beer, in a day where we had already done other flights and styles but had not yet had a blind tasting tour de force.

An experienced judge who was not seated at the moment walked past as we wrapped up and asked how the flight had gone, and I said, “we just picked an amazing beer. You should try this IPA.”

He poured himself a sample, and commented, “Ah! A nice New England IPA.”

I think he saw the look on our faces. It was not hazy, and it had a satisfying but slightly restrained bitterness in the crisp finish.  Aromatics and fruity flavors from the hops were common attributes between this beer and a good NEIPA, I thought. But that was not what it looked or tasted like, nor how it was entered. It was, hands down, the best American style IPA in our flight.

Were our personal standards for a nice bitter IPA shifting? Are IPAs in general getting fruiter and less aggressively bitter?

So that reminded me that we already have a lot of East-West overlap going on in brewing today, from technique to hop selection to recipe development. Perhaps we actually have more like an IPA spectrum!

From that day, I started to work out the model for a great NEIPA based on the examples I’ve tried in California, around the East Coast and recently in Denmark.  (Yep, European craft brewers are happily playing with the style, too.)  This is in no way an attempt at a style definition, but here are the elements that go through my head as I decide if one of these hazy beauties is meant to be for me:

  1. Looks seem to matter. If it’s been filtered, fined or centrifuged clear, (or if the yeast flocculated unexpectedly), it seems to be a different beer with a notably different texture.  Whether the foggy look is from oat, wheat or rye protein, from yeast cells or from particles of hop matter suspended in a luminous cloud, it seems to matter.  (But wait — that’s only true if a clear beer with similar flavors has another place to fit in the beer style rainbow.  If that awesome beer I judged was deemed not to be an American IPA, then I’d want it included in here someplace. Oh, the problems with style definitions!)
  2. It’s highly desirable to have a soft, almost fluffy mouthfeel. Perhaps silky, akin to an Oatmeal Stout in texture. How soft? I would have to say that the American IPA gets to have a heavier malty body.  But choosing how to quantify and describe where the style border is turns out to be a head scratcher.
  3. The bitterness of this beer is very gentle. In the initial part of the sip, bitterness is something akin to the bitterness in a glass of orange juice or punch. There’s something there, but you may not even think of it as bitterness. Think all hop flavor and aroma. Of course, there’s a big range, with the ones I tend to prefer expressing gentle but notable dry hop bitterness along with the “juicy” impression.  Frankly, some other beers take bitterness down to where they come off to me as “flabby,” to steal a wine word that fits this experience even better. Mild, fluffy, approaching boring by the end of the pint. (No doubt plenty of people will prefer the ones I find flabby.  This is why this conversation is important now. Some better word will arise. Perhaps there will be sub-styles where flab is fab.)
  4. There has to be a finish. This may be just me, or it may be a West Coast take on these beers, but a few of them just sort of vanish!  A very gentle final bitterness or even just an impression of dryness will do it for me if there are no off-flavors. (Does this make me a West Coaster?)
  5. The beer can’t show raspy astringency or bitterness. Above all, it is kind to your tongue.  It has to present as if less bitter than a pilsner, let’s say, to match that mouth-watering low-bitterness idea in my brain when I see the glass. I have tasted some that are far too bitter or astringent. Talk about missing the point!
  6. No yeast bite bitterness, either. The best description is “baby aspirin.” Put a baby or adult aspirin on your tongue as a reminder. I’ve found this now and then. Hop bitterness is much more pleasant, if you want a touch of bitter finish.
  7. Aroma! Big hop fragrance is required! If it smells like nearly nothing, it’s not a great example. Tropical, stone fruit, old school grapefruit or forest breeze – just have a beautiful smell.
  8. A beer brewed with wheat and oats can’t taste like flour or bread dough.  I’ve come across that raw flavor a few times, and I don’t really think it meshes with the other hop, alcohol, yeast and subdued malt flavors. To me, drinking a hop porridge is a fail.
  9. Yeast esters can be part of the fun, but being able to pick them out is not required. A brilliant flavor mix is a delight. If the yeast has a neutral flavor contribution and the sexy hops show through, what’s the problem? So peachy, pear, or even banana yeast notes can be part of the mix, but if the hops don’t require that flavor in the mix, that’s perfectly OK.
  10. Are chunks and flakes a fail?  Yeah, probably.  But then again, if it tasted amazing, it might not win a medal but it could still win hearts.


Sometimes I think the whole concept of styles is archaic.  New beers will never again spend centuries emerging in isolation in areas where only certain ingredients are found, certain yeasts shared and various pressures like taxes on specific strengths of beers work together to make an historical style.  Those days are over.

Competitions are the clearest reason popular new kinds of beers deserve categories. But competitions are not the most important social use for an agreed upon name and set of qualities for these inventive beers. As a consumer, I want a hint of what’s offered when an unknown beer is called an IPA on a menu board or a craft can.  This is a reason for style names in everyday life. NEIPA, or whatever consensus settles on calling them.

I like variety. I may want to order something clear today, or something cloudy, or a lightly hop-hazed glassful that falls in-between, but it would help to have a settled-upon style name so that seeing “IPA” doesn’t mean any possible beer you can brew with any detectable expression of hops.

Looking forward to find out how the language evolves along with the beers.

                     By Gail Ann Williams, for the Session, Aug 4, 2017

00-thesession150See the announcement post here!

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A Juicy Session: Announcing #126

Announcing The Session #126

Hazy, Cloudy, Juicy: IPA’s strange twist

Ready for the next installment of The Sessions, a.k.a. Beer Blogging Friday?  On August 4th, 2017, the topic will be a still-emerging – though no longer new – unofficial beer style. This kind of beer has gotten so much buzz (and some mocking) in the last decade and a half that it’s surprising it has not come up on The Session yet.  New England, Vermont-inspired, Northeastern, Hazy, Juicy or whatever you like to call these low-bitterness, hop flavorful beers, they are being made everywhere now and people are definitely buying them. 

So fire up your keyboard – let’s hear about your own encounters with these strange IPAs.


Any approach is welcome. Choose an idea or find your own:  

  • The encounter:  Do you remember your first NEIPA – if so, what was that like?  Details, please.  And how has your perception of the style changed over time? 
  • Or the name game: What style name do you prefer to describe the trend … why choose that one, and why are the other names unworthy or short-sighted? Does “IPA” still apply in a way that’s helpful to drinkers?
  • Or the crusade:  Testify!  Exactly why do you love or hate these beers?  How you could explain your stance to somebody who disagrees with you.  Could you/ how would you convert them to your point of view?
  • Or setting standards and defining flaws: What makes a classic example of the style?   What makes an IPA simply an unfiltered dry-hopped American IPA without much clarity instead of part of this style?  What about the sweeter “milkshake” IPAs – part of this style definition or something else?   What flaws make for weak examples of the style? Or maybe, where should the numbers be for this style – abv, ibu, color and clarity, etc.? What tasting instructions would you give to judges of these beers?
  • Or take another angle, tell another tale!  Have you been writing about these beers for several years now and watched them evolve?  Know something cool about the making of these beers, the people behind them, their spread to the UK and Europe?

Choose any angle and make it yours – they’re just ideas to get us thinking, not a questionnaire.  And if you have zero interest in such a beer, just say why in the fullest detail. Have fun with it!    

A few resources

The Brewers Association and the related Homebrewers Association both started out skeptical. This discussion (including comments) shows a step towards recognition:  Check out the April Fools style announcement complete with gravy boat snark from 2016:

How to Participate in August’s The Session

On August 4, after you post to your blog, come on back here to add the URL pointing to your brand new post. Put it in your comment below on this page, or to get a little more buzz going, tweet your link with the hashtag #thesession or alert us directly @beerbybart on Twitter.  

I then follow up soon thereafter with a full round-up of all of the submissions with links back to your work and we all soak in the breadth of opinion and information of the beer blogging community.  Cheers to August’s Beer Blogging Friday, aka The Session!


-Gail Ann Williams

Explore Beer By BART: Use our list of some of the San Francisco Bay Area’s best beer places with detailed transit info, so you can get out there to enjoy without driving.

The Importance of SMaSHing Beers

SMaSH is a catchy – really rather smashing – acronym for a simple brewers’ learning exercise. There’s no doubt both pro and home brewers get a lot out of tasting the experiment of beers constructed from limited ingredients. But why is SMaSH – Single Malt and Single Hop –  showing up as a description in commercial releases? Is it a buzz word, a brewer’s experimentation artifact or something the beer drinking public appreciates?

smash-sheetNot a lot of ingredients showing up on this brewing sheet from Black Sands Brewing Co.

Recently, just after noticing that SMaSH beers were a topic on The Sessions, a.k.a. Beer Blogging Friday, and learning that Oregon even has a SMaSH festival, I ran into Cole Emde at the monthly Meet The Brewers Event put on by the SF Brewer’s Guild. Cole is the brewer and co-owner at Black Sands Brewery, a brewpub and homebrew shop in San Francisco. Black Sands often has a SMaSH beer on, so I was curious about how these brews are doing in his restaurant.  

I wondered about the trendiness factor – since creative beers seem to be going in and out of style at such a hectic pace nowadays.

So I asked Cole whether SMaSH is still a thing.

“Duh! If you haven’t gotten on board, you’re behind the curve, to be honest,” he told me.  “The simplest beers are typically some of the best beers.”   

He felt that some of his Black Sands SMaSH IPAs have been as good or better than IPAs made there with multiple grains and hops. And his customers love the idea of learning about hop varieties.

Cole began brewing SMaSH beers for himself, to deepen his education about specific ingredients. “What does this hop mean, what does this grain mean?”  It’s a learning experience for the brewers, but also for the consumer.

And for Cole, it matters most with new hop varieties or the release of the new annual crops.  “I want to know exactly how that hop performs.  It’s a great way to get really intimate with your ingredients.”  He cited the model of Russian River’s Hop To It, an experimental pale ale made (and served at the RR pub) intermittently, exploring each of the latest new hop varieties that come into the brewhouse there.   

This single-minded approach is not going away at Black Sands.  “It’s by far the most important thing we do,” Cole said. “Our Kölsch is a SMaSH – we always have a SMaSH on draft, no matter what.”  

After writing these notes up, I was tempted to look for a SMaSH beer in my own fridge. Even though modern brewing has developed a reliance on using blends of hops and malts and label laws do not require disclosure of materials that are built into the definition of beer, I knew I actually had one,  made with a single pale malt and just Sterling hops.

But I also knew this bottle of beer was not going to give me the desired simple SMaSH effect. A beer from a complex sour fermentation, brewed with wild yeast and lactic bacteria, that pint satisfied another thirst entirely. 

Which may go to show that a single strain of yeast is the unspoken partner of a simple SMaSH brew.  SMaSHaSY?

The next day, I spotted a draft SMaSH beer listed at San Francisco’s Holy Water, a neighborhood cocktail bar with a great beer program.  And, lo and behold, it was from Black Sands Brewing.  Curiously, the name of the hop and malt chosen for what turned out to be an excellent IPA were not listed on the board, and the bartender didn’t have more information. But that was fine with me. 

It was a mystery SMaSH – and it tasted good.

                                                – Gail Ann Williams, co-founder of Beer By BART

00-thesession150PS:  More about the July 2017 round of the Sessions, and more commentary on these simple beers, see host Mark Lindner’s blog:

Want to participate in the next one, for the first Friday of August 2017?  You’re invited!  I’ll be hosting it.  Here’s the somewhat hazy topic announcement.


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Conspiracy Under the Tarps: We Dig into the Origins of Barrelworks

The Best of the U.S. Meets the Best of Belgium
Firestone Walker’s David Walker (L) and Matt Brynildson (center)  share a lambic with Cantillon Brewer, Jean Van Roy (R)

It started with a chance encounter at Cantillon in May 2011.  Steve Shapiro (one of the two of us responsible for Beer By BART) visited the famed Brussels lambic brewery.  And he was delighted to run into Firestone Walker Brewmaster Matt Brynildson and a tall companion with a British accent.  Steve remembers that Jean Van Roy was astonished that he and Matt knew each other. That encounter was, however, Steve’s first introduction to Firestone Walker Brewing’s co-founder, David Walker. Steve remembers Matt whispering about Walker sipping one of the complex, acidic Cantillon beers. “Look, he’s smiling!”

Steve snapped a photo (above) as the three brewing legends enjoyed another lambic creation together.

Not long afterward, we ran into David Walker at San Francisco’s City Beer Store.  Curiously, he implied that he was the one interested in starting a sour program but facing resistance. It caught our attention. A few very nice sour “wood aged” beers from the brewery had already showed up here and there. What was going on?

David Walker, Jeffers Richardson, Jim Crooks
David Walker, Jeffers Richardson and Jim Crooks at the Firestone Walker Invitational beer fest, after the launch of Barrelworks

But eventually all was moot. We were delighted when we heard of plans for a sour fermentation facility called Barrelworks in Buellton, an hour and a half south of the main Firestone Walker location in Paso Robles, way down on the Central Coast.

We got to know Jim Crooks and Jeffers Richardson, the two who anchor the program, each with his own complicated and engrossing back story at Firestone Walker.  Still, the more we heard about their own stories and about Barrelworks, the more puzzled we were.  Had it really been a forbidden project when Walker sipped at Cantillon? The website hinted of drama, but was that just marketing hype? What was true?

So last summer we decided to track this down and take whatever time the story required.  The idea was that we would get the versions of the origin tale from various protagonists and show how differently they saw things.  We were delighted when Beer Advocate Magazine took our project on, and we dug in.

Curiously, each thing we looked into was deeper and more complex than the last. The secrets behind Barrelworks went all the way back to the unusual origins of Firestone Walker itself.  Matt Brynildson, Jim Crooks, Jeffers Richardson, Adam Firestone and David Walker all gave generously of their time and did deep dives into all kinds of tales that we reluctantly left aside as we sharpened our focus and fought to stay within the word count.  Our respect, friendship and appreciation for the people at Firestone Walker grew over the course of our investigation.

The story’s up now on the Beer Advocate website, and we hope you enjoy all of it.

“The problem was that it was getting harder and harder for Crooks to keep the burgeoning project secret. “It was like, this is Jim’s deal, and it was like, don’t tell Adam,” Firestone sighs, recalling his brewers’ increasingly ridiculous attempts to keep him in the dark. “‘Guys, I can see the barrels! They’re dribbling all over the floor. They smell like hell!’”

Alas, some of the weirdly wonderful or disputed details ended up on the cutting room floor as we trimmed the story down to article length. Thanks to Tom Griffin, who told about bringing the first second-hand bourbon barrels out to California, thus getting Matt Brynildson into the incredibly delicious Anniversary beer tradition that recently resulted in another must-not-miss example.  We hope to tell those tales another time.  Mike Hoffman told us how he lost the SLO production brewery, with many details that were eye-opening and fascinating but would have taken us far outside the original focus of the story.  Thanks to Ryan Sweeney from LA’s Surly Goat and related beer bars who told us about arriving at the Paso Robles pub one day and having a draft beer from that sour program that did not exist. There it was, on tap! We dropped another thread of the story that had to do with the unforeseen demand for 805, the popular mainstream blonde ale.   The rise of the Barrelworks program was mentioned as a soul-saving counterbalance to the monotony of producing so much 805. We kept scrapping quotes packed with astonishing insights in order to get the bones of the story in.

And we are excited for the next chapters and new beers coming from Firestone Walker. We’ll be bugging them about the progress of the Belgian sour project mentioned in the beginning of the article, and following their beers.

Jim Crooks and one of his talented wooden foudres in the wood cellar at Barrelworks

So please check out our Feral Ones story in BeerAdvocate magazine.  And, as our editor Ben Keene reminds us, if you subscribe to BeerAdvocate, not only do you support beer journalism, but next time we write something there you will see it all gloriously laid out in a real glossy magazine you can touch, (perhaps with something akin to this issue’s historic Area 51 brewing images from Jeffers), a month before it ever goes up online.

– Gail and Steve

[photos by Steve Shapiro and/or Gail Ann Williams]

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