Fuller's ESB

In the 1700s, the term "bitter beer" was coined to describe ale with a noticeable hop flavor.  Bitter beers were especially popular in the taverns (or "ordinaries") of the English countryside.  The hopped brew served in the ordinaries became known as "ordinary bitter."  In response to popular demand, many breweries also began brewing stronger versions of their ordinary bitter, producing a more alcoholic drink known as "best bitter" or "special bitter."  Then things pretty much stayed the same for the next 200 years until Fuller's came along and cranked it up to 11 with their extra special bitter or ESB.

Fuller's Brewery was founded in 1845 by a consortium of three brewers who took over the historic Griffin Brewery in Chiswick, West London.  They are best known for their flagship bitter, London Pride, the most widely-distributed cask ale in Britain.  Fuller's first released their ESB in 1969 as a strong seasonal called "Winter Bitter."  Within two years the Winter Bitter had become so popular that the brewery decided to produce the beer year round under the name Extra Special Bitter.  Though many British breweries were quick to follow by brewing stronger, more flavorful versions of their own bitters, Fuller's was and is the standard against which similar beers are judged.  The folks at Fuller's aren't shy about touting their innovation: the label on the bottle proclaims their ESB a "World Original."

Nor has the beer gone unappreciated by the ale-drinking masses.  The Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), which is sort of like the Pitchfork Media of the British cask ale scene, has recognized Fuller's no less than seven times as England's Best Strong Ale.  In the United States, the U.S. Beverage Tasting Institute awarded Fuller's back-to-back titles as World Champion Bitter in 1997 and 1998.

Fuller's ESB is a one-of-a-kind brew.  It's slightly darker than your average pale ale, with a unique toasty malt flavor.  It has a pleasant bitterness sometimes described as "coffee-like."  The beer is designed to be dangerously drinkable, with no aggressive hop flavor getting in the way of its malty smoothness.  It's fairly easy to find in bottle form here in the U.S., though maybe not as common as its older brother London Pride (which you should absolutely try if you haven't already).  I've seen the ESB on tap at a bar or two with a large imported draft selection but it doesn't seem as visible as other British imports like Newcastle or Bass.

Be advised that when you buy a six-pack of Fuller's ESB in our great land of America you are not truly capturing the ESB in its natural state.  In England, Fuller's ESB - like all true bitters - is primarily sold as a cask-conditioned ale, meaning the beer is served from the same barrel in which it was fermented and has been neither filtered nor pasteurized.  The version available in the United States, however, is filtered, pasteurized and served in bottles or pressurized kegs.  This translates to a product with better carbonation, a neutered flavor, and a much, much longer shelf life.  The export version is also somewhat more alcoholic, weighing in at 5.9% ABV compared to the 5.5% ABV of the cask version.  I've had both, and in my opinion the export bottles do retain the unique flavor of Fuller's ESB - although the bespectacled, fedora-wearing godfathers of CAMRA would surely shake their bearded heads in disapproval were they to read this.

As I was saying above, the "extra special" in ESB refers mainly to its high alcohol content relative to other bitters.  So bitters that fall into the same alcoholic range as Fuller's (anywhere from about 4.5-6.5% ABV) are technically considered ESBs.  Of course these guidelines don't really have any bearing on how beer is marketed or described in the real world.  In England the term "bitter" is used interchangeably with "pale ale" to describe most beers that are neither stout, nor porter, nor lager, while the phrase "ESB" is uniquely applied to the Fuller's brand.  Other British ales of equivalent strength to Fuller's ESB, such as the phenomenal Adnams Broadside, refer to themselves as "strong ales" or "strong bitters."

In the United States, meanwhile, the ESB style has been used to classify almost any ale that is dark, medium-bodied, and moderately hopped.  In general, American beers labeled as ESB have a more malty taste and rather less hop flavor than pale ale.  It's a catch-all category more than anything else, and American ESBs definitely aren't just imitating the Fuller's style.  Avery 14'er ESB out of Colorado is a great American brew, as are Lefthand Sawtooth ESB (also from Colorado) and Heavy Seas Winter Storm from the Clipper City Brewing Co. of Baltimore.

Kostritzer Schwarzbier

The Kostritzer Brewery was founded in 1543 as the house brewery of a popular inn in the town of Bad Kostritz in eastern Germany.  The brewery produced a unique "black beer" that quickly became popular in the surrounding province of Thuringia and was eventually exported in casks throughout the German states.  The beer they produced stood on the shoulders of a longer brewing tradition: town records indicate that the recipe and techniques for brewing schwarzbier existed for at least 50 years prior to the opening of the Kostritzer brewery.

As if a heritage that dates to before the voyages of Columbus weren't enough, Kostritzer has woven its way through modern German history.  As every article about the brewery will tell you, Kostritzer was the preferred drink of the writer and philosopher Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832), who is said to have consumed it daily while thinking deep thoughts and composing such masterpieces as Faust and The Sorrows of Young Werther.  In 1806 the owners of the brewery, noblemen of the Reuss family, became connected with German royalty; Kostritzer was then known as the "Princely Brewery."  The Kostritzer brand is currently owned by the Bitburger Brewery Group, which produces several distinctive German classics including Bitburger Premium and Konig Pils.  Like most German beers, Kostritzer is still brewed according to the strictures of the Reinheitsgebot, the Bavarian purity law of 1516 which states, among other things, that beer may only contain three ingredients: water, hops, and barley (the law wasn't officially repealed until the 1980s).

I first tried Kostritzer at a German restaurant about five years ago and was instantly hooked.  I spent the next few months checking for it at every specialty beer store I knew of, but to no avail.  I was only able to find it at that one restaurant and one or two enlightened watering holes.  Over the past couple years, however, Kostritzer seems to have made some inroads in these United States (at least on the east coast).  I've seen it in several specialty stores (including Total Wine) and at least one supermarket.  It's still relatively hard to find, but hopefully you'll come across it if you spend enough time browsing your local beer supplier. 

I love how insanely well-balanced this brew is.  It's not as jet black as its name implies - more of a warm, coppery-black - and is brilliantly clear.  It's rich and malty without an overly sweet "caramel" flavor.  It gives you a tinge of bitterness while leaving almost no hop flavor.  It is a true lager with an ultra-clean, crisp finish, yet it's not as assertive or alcoholic as other traditional dark lagers like bock or Oktoberfest.  And it has absolutely nothing in common with your dark ales (stout, porter, brown ale, etc.) save its color.  It goes down as easy and refreshing as any light continental pilsner and you certainly won't get that "full" feeling that some complain about after drinking a Guinness or what have you.

Nowadays there are a few German breweries who produce a schwarzbier, though Kostritzer remains the archetype of the style in Europe and abroad.  In terms of American microbrews, there really aren't very many options available.   Shiner Bohemian Black Lager is a solid American approximation of the style from a brewery that has built its fortunes on producing dark, German-style lagers (think a smoother, less full-bodied version of Shiner Bock).  Sam Adams Black Lager is also pretty good.  However, neither of these can really be considered microbrews and I'm sure beer snobs would rather funnel a Natty Light than be caught drinking a Shiner or Sam Adams.  But the schwarzbier style hasn't really caught on with independent craft breweries.  I imagine this is due in large part to the relatively small percentage of microbreweries who attempt to brew lagers of any kind, much less a fairly obscure style as schwarzbier, focusing their attention instead on English-style ales.  (More - much more - on this subject to come in later posts.)   I've read good things about Sprecher Black Bavarian out of the Sprecher Brewing Co. in Wisconsin, but have never personally come across this brand.  There is also a Brazilian beer called Xingu that describes itself as a schwarzbier.  It's a good brew, but much maltier and sweeter than Kostritzer.

After 468 years of existence, Kostritzer remains a truly unique brew that is still somewhat under the radar in the U.S.  It really is very different than other dark beers you may be used to and is well worth a try.

Welcome to Hock N' Brew

About a year ago I was standing in the beer aisle at Harris Teeter picking out a six-pack for the night.  I noticed a new item, Peacemaker Pale Ale (from LoneRider Brewing Co. in Raleigh, NC), nestled amongst their generous selection of American craft brews.  I was in the mood to try something new, so I decided on the Peacemaker without giving it much thought.  As fate would have it, the LoneRider brews happened to be garrisoned near the center of the beer aisle right at the transition between the "Microbrew" section and the "Imported" section.  As I reached for my Peacemaker, I couldn't help but notice the beer stationed immediately to the right of it...Bass Ale.  I'd had Bass a million times; it's sold in pretty much every supermarket around me and is served (in bottles) at a good number of the bars and restaurants I frequent.  I regularly skim past its name on beer menus without a second thought.  Yet for some reason, in the brief moment it took me to pull the Peacemaker off the shelf, I got to thinking about Bass Ale and what it represented.  Bass Ale is the original pale ale.  It has been brewed according to essentially the same recipe since 1777.  It was one of the most popular beers of the early 20th century, appearing in paintings by Picasso and Manet and immortalized in literature by James Joyce.  I was in the presence of a masterpiece, a sacrifice to the spirits of fermentation that had been judged by centuries of beer-drinking men and deemed worthy.  I looked down at the six-pack of Peacemaker Pale Ale in my hand, taking in the cheap logo imprinted on its cardboard packaging, its generic dark brown long-neck bottles, and the nondescript hazy liquid sloshing back and forth as I brought the sixer to my eyes.  I looked back up at the Bass and gazed upon its iconic "red triangle" label that represented generations of skill, industry, and fine taste.  And then I turned around, walked up to the self-checkout register, and purchased the Peacemaker.

The beer was fine, but I couldn't help feeling that I had somehow cheated myself.  I love craft brews, and I'm always excited to try an offering from a new microbrewery or limited-release seasonal from an old favorite whenever I come across one.  But had I been too quick to dismiss their forebears in the "Imported" section?  How many times had I bypassed a Hacker-Pschorr Weisse to grab a Pyramid Hefeweizen?  How many Old Dominion Oak Barrel Stouts had I drunk at the expense of a Guinness?  This isn't to say that European beers are inherently superior to their American counterparts.  Just that I was placing a higher value on novelty than on quality and, in doing so, I was missing out on important segments of beer lore.

Remember those "Beers of the World"-type posters that every male college student had hanging in their dorm room (in between the cover art from "Dark Side of the Moon" and a black-and-white photo of the Rat Pack playing pool) ca. 2002?  Consider this blog a literary deconstruction of that poster.  I'll highlight a different classic beer in each post, take a look into the history and distinctive characteristics of that beer, and explore the off-shoots, imitators, and innovations spawned by that beer within the craft brew industry.  There won't be any reviews or rankings; I like almost every beer I've ever tried so let's just assume they all get 5 stars and go from there.  I'll also be throwing in my thoughts on divers beer-related topics such as lagers vs. ales, cask conditioning, and homebrewing.  You probably won't learn anything of consequence about formal beer styles or the technical aspects of brewing, but you might be inspired to sample some new beers and gain a new appreciation for some familiar brands.  Feel free to leave your opinions and beer recommendations in the comments.  Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy our journey.