Caledonian 80/-

Scotland has as rich a brewing tradition as any nation of northern Europe.  From the early Middle Ages onward, there are records of Scottish Highlanders brewing ales with heather, the purple flower whose low shrubs carpet the rocky slopes of the Highlands.  The secrets of brewing heather ale were supposedly passed down from the Picts, who occupied the Highlands in Roman times.  There is even some archaeological evidence that Neolithic peoples living on the Scottish Isle of Rum were consuming a heather-based fermented beverage as early as 2000 B.C.  Heather not only provided flavor to beer but also served as a preservative - much as hops do in modern-day beers.

During the Industrial Age, however, the Scottish beer market was invaded by imported English pale ales, which were flavored with hops rather than herbs.  The ancient art of heather ale was still practiced on a small scale, kept alive on isolated farmsteads and in remote Highland villages.  Meanwhile, large breweries sprang up in the cities of Scotland to take on their English counterparts at their own game.  They began making pale ales using local-grown barley and hops imported from southern England.

Among these was the Caledonian Brewery, which was founded in Edinburgh in 1869. The name of the brewery is derived from Caledonia, the ancient Roman name for the uncivilized lands to the north of Hadrian's Wall (which included pretty much all of present-day Scotland). At the time of its founding, Caledonian was one of over 40 breweries that were thriving in 19th-century Edinburgh by making their own versions of English-style pale ales and bitters.  However, Caledonian is the only Edinburgh-based brewery of that era to survive to the present day.  Currently, their most popular offering is called Caledonian 80 /-.

The weird "/-" device is the symbol for the shilling, a monetary unit that was used in the United Kingdom until 1971 ( NOTE: before researching this blog post, I had no idea what a shilling was worth.  According to Wikipedia, there were 20 shillings per one pound sterling, and 12 pence per shilling.  That sounds unnecessarily confusing).  The reason this particular beer is called "80 shilling" actually has to do with is alcohol content.  Back in the 1800s, the British government levied taxes on Scottish ale.  The specific rate of taxation depended on the alcoholic strength of the beer.  Beers under about 3% ABV were deemed "light" and taxed at a rate of 60/- per hogshead barrel (one hogshead = 54 imperial gallons...and yes, I had to look that one up too).  Beers between 3 and 4% ABV were "heavy," meriting a tax rate of 70/-.  So-called "export" beers, which exceeded 4% ABV, were charged a tax rate of 80/- per hogshead.

I know I've covered this ground in the blog already, but before innovations pasteurization and airtight steel kegs, it was difficult to transport beer over long distances while keeping it fresh and unspoiled.  For exporting purposes, many European brewers would produce an especially heavy version of their beer that had more alcohol than the standard one.  The increased alcohol content would help to keep the beer from going bad during the voyage.  Extra hops, which serve as a natural preservative, were often added to the "export" version in order to achieve the same goal.  The technology behind this convention may be obsolete, but some European brewers still refer to their strongest beers as "Export" or "Foreign" to this day: Carlsburg Export is stronger than regular Carlsburg, Guinness Foreign Extra Stout is stronger than Guinness Draught, and so on and so forth.

Like many Scottish breweries, Caledonian still brands their pale ales according to the 60/70/80 shilling nomenclature.  As far as I know, however, their 60/- Light and 70/- Heavy brews are only served in casks and only available in the UK.  The sole version we can get on this side of the pond is their strongest, the 80/- Export.  Not that their 80/- is particularly potent by our American standards.  Historically, even the strongest British beers were generally lower in alcohol than strong beers from, say, Belgium or Germany.  Caley 80/- comes in at only 4.1% ABV - a little less than Miller Lite, and far less than many micro-brewed American pale ales.

Caledonian 80/- is a reddish brown color with an off-white head.  The character of 80/- is somewhat similar to comparable English pale ales like Bass or Boddingtons, only more robust and assertive.  It's also creamier and more full-bodied than your average English pale ale.  You'll get a strong malty taste without much hop flavor - unlike American pale ales, which tend to be far hoppier than their Old World forefathers.  There's also a hint of berry-like fruitiness that comes from the unique strains of British ale yeast and high-temperature fermentation employed in creating this brew.  The Caledonian Brewery is also known for their Deuchars IPA, an award-winning cask-conditioned India Pale Ale.

I have a strong personal attachment to Caledonian 80/-.  When I lived in England, there was a Scottish pub not far from my house that served Caley's brews.  I hung out there a few times with my Scottish friend Doug, putting away pints of 80/- and trying to decipher the crazy Scottish accents of my fellow patrons (strangely, this got easier as the night wore on).  But there are several other excellent Scottish beers available here in the U.S.  In particular, Belhaven Scottish Ale is another fine 80/- brew that's fairly easy to find at a specialty beer store.

And if you really want a taste of old Scotland, several modern microbreweries in Scotland as well as the United States are experimenting with beers flavored with heather.  In particular, the Williams Brothers Brewery of Scotland has made it their mission to revitalize ancient Scottish brews.  They offer a heather ale called Fraoch.  For a closer example, the Highland Brewery here in North Carolina has a seasonal beer called Highland Heather Ale that's supposed to be pretty good.  I haven't yet had the chance to try a heather ale, but it's high on my list.

Coors Banquet

The goal of this blog is to highlight the world's classic beers by examining their history as well as the modern beer styles they have spawned.  I'll totally understand if you don't think Coors Banquet meets the standard of "world classic beer."  After all, it is a fairly generic mass-produced American lager.  But I'm writing about Coors this week for personal reasons: a couple weeks ago, I took a tour of the Coors Brewery in Golden, Colorado and I wanted to pass along the story of this iconic brewery.

Coors was founded in 1873 by a German immigrant named Adolph Kuhrs.  Kuhrs emigrated to New York in 1867 at the age of 20.  Upon arriving in our country he Anglicized the spelling of his name to "Coors."  He made his way to Chicago and found work in a brewery (he had previously been a brewer's apprentice while a teenage orphan in Germany).  Within a couple years Coors had worked his way up to the post of brewery foreman.  In 1872 he left his job and headed west to Denver, Colorado.  He wanted to make his fortune by bringing German-style pilsner beer (which was already very popular on the East Coast at the time) to the Wild West.  He picked a good spot for his business: the population of Colorado had spiked during the gold rush of 1859-1861, and pilsner-loving immigrants from central Europe comprised a large percentage of the new arrivals.  According to the good people on the Coors tour,  Adolph Coors spend his weeks working at a variety of jobs around Denver and his weekends scouring the surrounding countryside for the best site for his brewery.

Specifically, he was looking for a spot near a high-quality water source.  The Coors tour repeatedly highlighted Adolph Coors' supposed catchphrase: "the water makes the beer."  Well that's true, of course - beer is mostly water.  If you recall my Pilsner Urquell post, the unique water quality of Pilsen was a key component of the fine pilsner beers brewed in Bohemia from the 1800s up till this very day.  Same goes for the great breweries of Munich, which also draw on a remarkably soft water that allows for the creation of extremely refined and high-quality lagers.  So by prioritizing his water supply, Coors was sensibly drawing on the wisdom of master brewers in his native land.  Coors ultimately found his water source in the prosperous mining town of Golden (about 15 miles west of Denver, as the silver bullet flies).  In 1873 the Schueler and Coors Brewery opened its doors in Golden.  Coors and his business partner Jacob Schueler (also a German immigrant) set to work brewing a fine golden lager in the pilsner tradition.  In 1880 Coors bought out Schueler's share of the company and continued to build his company.

Coors Brewery, Golden, Colorado

Adolph Coors led his company through the lean years of prohibition by making malted milk and non-alcoholic beer, as well as manufacturing ceramic products from the local clay mines.  During the second World War Coors secured a contract to distribute beer on American military bases.  Its popularity among servicemen led to an increased demand for Coors nationwide.  Following the war, the company expanded its distribution to most of the western states.  Elsewhere in the country, the novelty (and relatively high alcohol content) of the brew led to a so-called "Coors mystique" - immortalized in film by Burt Reynolds leading a truckload of contraband Coors across the South in Smokey and the Bandit.  By the 1980s Coors was legally available all across this great land of ours.

Along the way, Coors has been responsible for many innovations in brewing science and technology.  It was the first brewery to distribute its beer in modern two-piece aluminum cans.  It was also the first to exert major political influence in the form of hefty donations to conservative causes.  The conservative values espoused by Adolph Coors have continued to guide the company long after his death, including a controversial anti-union stance that led to a number of strikes and boycotts throughout the 1970s and 1980s.  In spite of his enormous professional success, Adolph Coors must have been battling his own demons: in 1929, at the age of 82, he jumped to his death from the window of a hotel room in Virginia Beach, Virginia.  There has never been any real consensus on his motivations for suicide.

The brewery remained in the Coors family until the past decade.  In 2005 Coors merged with Molson to become the Molson Coors Brewing Company.  In 2008, brewing giant Miller bought a 58% stake in Molson Coors and thus created a joint venture called MillerCoors.  The old Coors plant in Golden is currently the largest single-site brewery in the world, producing Coors beers as well as several familiar brands such as Blue Moon and Killian's Irish Red.  Despite the massive growth of the company over the past 130-odd years, the Coors brewery still churns out a version of the full flavored German-style pilsner that Adolph Coors brought to the Rockies - known today as Coors Banquet.

Coors' brewery floor

I'm not sure when they started branding this beer as "Coors Banquet."  I always used to call it "Coors Original"  (my brother is spearheading a movement to call it "Coors Heavy," which sounds cool even though people have no idea what you're talking about).  Although I do remember those commercials with the Sam Elliot voice-over from a few years back: "using only the the freshest high country barley...Coors. The banquet beer."  Anyway, the name supposedly comes from the late 1800s, when miners in Golden would throw wild parties called "banquets."  Adolph Coors' fine golden pilsner was the drink of choice at these soirees, and was therefore popularly referred to around town as "the banquet beer."

I became aware of Coors Banquet about 7 or 8 years ago.  Until then, Coors Light was the only Coors product I knew of.  Coors Light used to be one of my least favorite beers, along with Keystone Light (which, incidentally, is brewed at the Golden plant along with Coors Light).  I found it watery and weak, and, in my beer snob way, judged harshly anyone who happened to be drinking it within my line of sight.  My freshman-year roommate LOVED Coors Light....and, if you ever met my freshman-year roommate, that should tell you everything you need to know.  But I've come around on this viewpoint to some extent.  Coors Light can be really refreshing and, at the very least, it's way better than Keystone.

Whatever your feelings on Coors Light, Coors Banquet is a much different brew.  It's a typical "assembly line" lager: very clean and crystal clear with a balanced malty flavor.  But it is far deeper and more full-flavored than its silver-canned stepbrother  It may not be as smooth as continental pilsners like Stella Artois or Pilsner Urquell, but it is very drinkable nonetheless.  Look, if you're only about microbrews and imports, then you probably won't be too impressed with the Banquet beer.  But I think it compares favorably to similar offerings from Budweiser, Miller, Pabst, and other American giants.  If you factor in the price (about $10-12 for a 12-pack, about the same price as Miller Lite), I'd say Coors Banquet is one of the best beer deals on the market.

Enjoying a cold one on the house
at the Coors Brewery

The tour of the Coors brewery ends with a stop at a bar where you can try a wide array of Coors products free of charge.  Thanks to their generosity, my companions and I were able to sample a couple brews that aren't readily available in our neck of the woods.  One of these was Colorado Native, an amber lager made exclusively with Colorado-sourced ingredients and available only in Colorado.  It's a really solid brew with a rich, earthy flavor (a good taste comparison would be Anchor Steam).  And I especially like that Colorado Native can only be found in its home state - a throwback to Coors' heyday in the 1960s and 1970s, when their brew was available only in a handful of western states.  I also tried Batch 19, a lager brewed according to a recipe from the early 1900s.  Apparently, people in pre-Prohibition times liked their beers pale, hoppy, and thin-bodied.  It was very good though - pretty similar to what you would get from a standard micro-brewed light lager.

If you're ever around the greater Denver area, I would strongly recommend a stop at the Coors brewery for a taste of these brews as well as the remarkable story of how a poor immigrant became the proprietor of world's largest brewery.  It's particularly inspirational for those of us how have ever tried our hand at beer-making.  Just like every garage band dreams of landing a contract and cutting a studio album, every homebrewer dreams of opening his own brewery.  The story of Coors Banquet is the story of how one guy made that happen on the largest scale possible.