My friend’s sister was due around the same time as Meatbelle is. She just had her baby yesterday. That sure made things more real around here!

Our birthing center bag isn’t anywhere near packed yet but I have a running list. Clearly there are some important things I need to think about, but what I’m struggling with most is what kind of beer to bring with me. While some people bring a bottle of bubbly along, I want to pack a special beer in case I’m up for imbibing something celebratory before heading home with our little girl.

A friend gave me a 4-pack of Heady Topper from The Alchemist, which has achieved cult status in my neck of the woods. But my husband isn’t a huge fan of hoptastic beers (and, yes, he did try Heady Topper after a recent mountain bike ride in Vermont, so he knows he doesn’t like this one).

So my question is: what beer should we bring along for a toast post-birth?

I love going to Stanley’s North East Bar Room on University Ave in NE Minneapolis.  Formerly Stasius, Stanley’s has taken the blue collar charm and tradition of Northeast river bars and taken it to another level.  They smoke their own meats, offer 32 beers on tap and are starting a food truck. Yet they still cater to the locals (pull tabs after 3pm and meat raffles on Fridays).  They also sell T-shirts with pictures of their beautiful urinals on them.  They really are beautiful.  I have seen them. The food is great, happy hour is decent, and beer selection is plentiful.  So when I heard they would begin carrying cellared beers, I was excited.

For those of you who don’t know, the right beer cellars as well as wine.  I know some light beers come with an expiration date.  But, insipid beers that are hawked at the state fair aren’t the ones I’m talking about.  I’m talking about high alcohol dark or sweet ales, like barleywines, lambics, or triple bocks.   Any beer that has a great flavor, but is a little cloyingly sweet might be a good candidate.  We’ve all tasted a beer and said, that’s a great beer, but I could only have one.  Try it after cellaring it for a year.  The flavor mellows and it becomes a little more complex.  At least that’s what they say.  I’ve never been patient enough to let a good beer sit around that long.

Looking forward to an opportunity to try one of these elusive (and expensive) elixirs, I dragged my husband, the German, and the German’s wife to Stanley’s for lunch.  I asked for the cellared beer list.  The look of slight panic in my server’s face was a bit concerning.  When he came back with the list, I asked if he could tell me a little about some of the offerings.  The list is about a dozen or so bottles long and prices range from $13-$24 a bottle, so I wanted to make sure we sampled the right one.  He told me he sadly didn’t know anything about the cellared beers.  We asked if anyone around did know anything.  He said the bar tender MIGHT know.  We just picked some bottles randomly.

After waiting while the bartender searched for the key to the case, our server came over with two beautiful bottles from Goose Island Brewery in Chicago and matching pretty glasses.  We tried Sofie, a Belgian style farmhouse ale, and Matilda, a Belgian Pale Ale.  Sofie was pale in color, yeasty and had an apple finish.  It had a nice full body for a pale beer.  Matilda had an odd flavor at first, but the goodness built as I drank it.  It had an amber color and a dried apricot finish.  Both where full flavored but not as filling as they might have been when they were young.  Still, for the price, I was a little underwhelmed.  We wondered if maybe their distributor was trying to push cellared beers this month and they were as enchanted with the idea as we were. I have to admit, I might have been entertaining some urban elite style notion of being the first to discover a new style of beer.  Like, somehow, just drinking a cellared beer made me a pioneer in the beer world. Affirming my visionary lifestyle and purchase of a Nissan Cube.  If I win big at pull tabs, I’ll try another bottle.  But for now, I’ll stick to my local mainstays.

I still like the idea of cellared beer, but on closer examination, I don’t know how necessary it is.  Beer unites people.  It’s approachable and affordable.  Anyone in any class can enjoy it.  Do we really need to muddy the waters with a complicated my-beer-has-better-pedigree-than-your-beer option?

Next time you’re at Stanley’s, order a Fulton and some brisket nachos and gaze at the revolving case of cellared beer.  Smile quietly and say to yourself, stupid marketing.

I heart Maine Beer Company beer. In our Valentine’s Day blog, I wrote an ode to their Mean Old Tom, a stout aged with vanilla beans that I love to pieces. So when I got the email that they had brewed a special beer and would only be selling 250 bottles, I high-tailed it to the brewery to grab a few.

Here’s what MBC has to say about the beer…

This is our farmhouse ale. It was fermented with a blend of ale strains and aged in french oak Syrah barrels with brettanomyces. $10 from your purchase goes straight to the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund.

 

I finally uncorked a bottle when we went to Vermont last weekend. A fellow beer lover was coming over for dinner so we broke into one after dinner. It pains me to write this, but I wasn’t a huge fan. I’ve had farmhouse ales before, and I typically dig them, but I’ve never tasted a beer like this before. I can’t say I’m excited to drink the other 3 bottles I have…

Look: 5
Beautiful honey pine color.

Smell: 3
Smelled like a sour with a subtle barnyard aroma.

Taste: 2
It was too subtle. I struggled to identify flavors in this beer. Definite notes of lemon peel and a spiciness (black pepper, maybe?) lingered on the palate.  It was very dry.

Overall impression:
We drank this after dinner, so I’m wondering if our palates were a little numb from our meal. Or perhaps this is one of those beers, like some wines, that need to be drank with food to be fully appreciated? That’s my plan for the next bottle…

Did anyone else score a bottle of this special beer? I’d love to hear your thoughts…

The first time I saw hops in bloom I was enchanted.  Oak leaved vines heavy with chartreuse flowers that looked more like small pine cones than something you’d plant in a boarder.  Hops vines can grow 25 feet tall and tend to grow straight up when given the right support. But, they look great stretching across the top of a fence, giving them a sort of romantic, Victorian, Heathcliff-on-the-Moors feel.  Their beauty is rustic, accented by their purpose: The wonderful art of brewing beer.

Hops have been used to stabilize, bitter and preserve beer since the 11^th century.  A perennial vine, the female flower clusters are used for brewing.  The recent hops shortage spurred a hops growing renaissance, and hops rhizomes are available in many brewing supply shops in the spring.   Hops grow best between the 35^th and 55^th parallel and many varieties grow well in the United States.   They are easy to grow once established, though getting them started in northern climates can be tricky. Here in Minnesota, I find that starting them indoors in pots three weeks before transplanting outside is very helpful, though I have had successes planting them directly in the ground in early May.  A healthy plant can produce around 3lb wet hops by the second year.

Planting: Hops need 120 frost free days and should be planted after the soil can be worked in the spring but no later than mid May.  They prefer a south facing location that gets plenty of sun.  You will need a strong support structure such as a fence or wall and a trellis or rope for them to climb.  They get very heavy and can grow a foot a day, so make sure your trellis is sturdy.  Hops grow best in light soil with good drainage.  Plant them vertically, 1 inch below soil, with buds pointing upward.   Water them well, but don’t keep them soggy.  A good watering every couple of days is best.  When the bines emerge, you will need a piece of twine or coarse rope tied to your trellis to wind them onto.  Pick two or three of the strongest bines and wind them clockwise around the rope.  (That is, clockwise if you live in the Northern Hemisphere.  Same direction your toilet flushes.  They are following the sun.)  Leave any extra bines for now in case something happens to your chosen bines.  You can cut them off when the season progresses to give the stronger bines more energy.

Growing season:  Your hops vine will grow in height very quickly..  Eventually, it will send of little arms.  This is where the cones will grow. Don’t let the arms tangle up too much.  It becomes very hard to harvest. When the cones begin to emerge, spread a little compost at the base of the plant to give it some fertilizer.  Keep the plant well weeded.  Watch for the flowers to emerge.

When to harvest: While the cones develop, they begin to change color form a deeper green to a light green or pale yellow.  Squeeze a cone in your hand.  If it feels damp and squishes, it isn’t ready.  If it feels sticky, cut the cone in half and look for the yellow lupulins.  Lupulins are an aromatic powder on the inside of the cone.  It is almost ready.  When the cones become papery and are aromatic when crushed, you can begin harvesting them.  Lay the vine on the ground and pick just the cones.  Let the vine sit overnight to let the sap move back into the plant.  Cut the vine 3 feet from the crown and let it continue to grow.  You can cut the plant back to the crown after the frost sets in.

Dry your hops on a screen in the sun or in the oven at 140 degrees.  Store in vacuum sealed bags or in freezer bags.  Freeze until you are ready to brew something delicious.

Quick Glossary:

Cone: flower of the hops plant

Rhizomes: a stem of a plant that is usually found underground, often sending out roots and shoots.

Crown: base of the plant

Bines: vines that first grow up from the plant

Wet Hops: hops before they are dried

Lupulins: Fragrant yellow powder inside the cone