Saturday, June 18, 2011

Negra Modelo

The 1800s were a sort of golden age for the city of Vienna, Austria, during which it was one of the major political and cultural centers of the world.  In 1804 Vienna was named capital of the newly-minted Austrian Empire.  The Congress of Vienna, which was called in order to settle the turmoil caused by the French Revolution, Napoleonic Wars, and dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire, was held in the city in 1814.  The Congress established many European political boundaries that still exist today and served as the model for the League of Nations and ultimately the United Nations.  In 1867 an agreement between the Empire of Austria and the Kingdom of Hungary formed the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  Vienna then became the capital of one of the largest and most powerful states of Europe.  During the 19th century Vienna was also considered the center of the musical world.  It was home to many of the greatest composers of the day including Mahler, Brahms, and Strauss.  The classic Viennese dance known as the waltz became extremely fashionable in Britain, France, and North America.

You might say that a great beer tradition was also brewing in Vienna during this time (sorry...that was horrible).  In 1841 a Viennese brewer named Anton Dreher began experimenting with lagers that had become very popular in central Europe.  He began by borrowing elements of the dark German lager called marzen, the standard drink of the German Oktoberfest.  Instead of using the dark-roasted barley that creates the signature taste of marzen, he roasted his grains at a lower temperature to create a beer that was smooth and toasty rather than dark and bold.  (This type of malted barley would eventually become known as "Vienna malt").   He then added German noble hops at the beginning of the brew to contribute a noticeable hop bitterness without leaving much hop flavor or aroma.  Finally, he fermented his product using lager yeast (which had only recently been isolated and incorporated into beer brewing) at cold temperatures, in the style of Pilsner lagers from the Austro-Hungarian province of Bohemia.  The result was an amber-colored brew that combined the toasty flavor of a dark lager with the crisp smoothness of a light one.  Much like the waltz, Dreher's brew became a symbol the refinement and splendor of 19th-century Vienna.

Anyone who is still reading at this point is probably wondering what this has to do with Negra Modelo, an excellent beer brewed in Mexico.  We're almost there.  During the 1860s the democratic President of Mexico, Benito Juarez, suspended interest payments to Mexico's European creditors - including France.  In 1862 the French army of Emperor Napoleon III invaded Mexico and, after years of war and many bloody setbacks, occupied Mexico City.  Two years later, with the support of conservative Mexican monarchists and the Roman Catholic clergy, Napoleon III offered the crown of the so-called Empire of Mexico to a member of the Austrian royal family named Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian Josef Habsburg.  Maximilian I (as he became known) was considered an ideal candidate for the Mexican throne: he had previously served as Commander-in-Chief of the Austrian Navy and as Viceroy of Lombardy-Venetia, and had recently completed a lengthy botanical expedition to Brazil.  The French royal house was closely connected to the Habsburg family through several marriages; there was even a popular rumor in Vienna that Maximilian was the illegitimate brother of Napoleon III.  However, Emperor Maximilian's reign in Mexico proved short and turbulent.  The country continued to be wracked by civil war.  Many of the world's powers refused to recognize Maximilian's legitimacy (including the U.S., who opposed any European intervention in North America in accordance with the Monroe Doctrine).  By 1866, even the French had withdrawn their military support.  In May, 1867 Maximilian I was captured and executed by forces loyal to Juarez.  Austrian dominion over Mexico died with him.

During the brief reign of Maximilian I, however, many Austrians had emigrated to Mexico City.  Among these were Viennese brewers, who are thought to have brought over beer recipes in the style of Anton Dreher's popular elixir - which by then had become known as "Vienna lager."  Mexican brewers continued the Austrian beer tradition even after Maximilian's execution.  The most renowned of these was an Austro-Mexican citizen named Santiago Graf.  Not much is known about Graf, other than that he was a skilled brewer who popularized the Vienna lager style in Mexico in the years following the collapse of the Empire.  He imported both hops and grain from Europe and began making true Vienna lagers in Mexico City.  By 1890, Graf's beer was the most popular brew in Mexico and the subject of many imitations.

The mighty Austro-Hungarian Empire was left in splinters at the end of World War I.  By that time, the dark toasty brew championed by Dreher in the 1840s had fallen out of favor in Vienna and may have even become totally extinct.  However, the Vienna lager tradition was just picking up steam in the New World.  In 1925 a new brewery called Cerveceria Modelo opened in Mexico City.  They began producing their own version of Graf's popular Vienna lager, which they called Negra Modelo.  In 1930 Modelo began exporting both Negra Modelo and its light lager, Corona, to the United States.

Negra Modelo is a dark amber color (like a tall glass of Coke after the ice has melted).  It has a pleasant malty taste, and you'll probably pick up on the toasty and nutty flavors that are the calling card of Vienna lager.  It is only lightly hopped, leaving a sweet smoothness that some choose to accentuate with a slice of lime.  Negra Modelo is instantly recognizable by its squat, short-necked bottles capped with gold foil.  And it's even better on draft.

A beer purist would argue that Negra Modelo is no longer a true Vienna lager: instead of 100% Vienna malt, Modelo now uses a certain percentage of adjuncts such as corn and rice (much like standard American lagers do).  They also use American hops instead of the noble German variety.  But beer purists are obnoxious.  All beer styles evolve and adopt certain characteristics depending on where and when they are brewed; that's why we have so many unique and amazing beers in the world.

In addition to Negra Modelo, there are several dark Mexican lagers that still carry the torch for the old Vienna style.  The most popular of these in the United States is probably Dos Equis Amber (although Negra Modelo remains the top-selling dark beer in Mexico itself).  The Cuauhtemoc Moctezuma Brewery in Monterrey produces a dark lager called Bohemia Obscura, which is supposed to be a fairly authentic re-creation of the 19th-century Viennese brew, but I haven't yet had the pleasure of trying it.  Meanwhile, the Vienna lager style has enjoyed a renaissance among America's microbreweries and brewpubs.  You see Vienna lagers popping up more and more on beer menus and in stores these days.  The best one of these that I've tried is Trader Joe's Vienna Style Lager (no joke - it really is awesome.  Another reason to love Trader Joe's).

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Reissdorf Kolsch

Around this time of year a lot of microbreweries are promoting their summer seasonal beers.  You'll notice that lately many of these summer offerings are described as "Kolsch."  I do not like this trend, for reasons that have nothing to do with the beer itself.  In fact, many of these American kolsches are excellent brews; I would particularly recommend New Holland's Full Circle Kolsch (straight outta Holland, Michigan - ancestral home of the Goodwin family).  I also recently tried Sam Adam's East-West Kolsch, which was a solid light ale with an interesting addition of jasmine.  My problem with these brews has nothing to do with taste - it's more about geography.

Kolsch is the adjectival form of Koln, a city in western Germany that we know by the French spelling of Cologne.  In addition to being the namesake of men's fragrances, Cologne is also renowned for a unique type of beer that its brewers have been crafting for generations.  The word kolsch refers specifically to this beer, which was (until recently) only brewed in Cologne.  I know this makes me sound like Rob Lowe's character from Wayne's World, but the seasonal summer ales offered by American microbreweries don't really count as kolsch in the same way that most sparkling wines don't count as champagne.  ("Ah yes, it's a lot like 'Star Trek: The Next Generation'.  In many ways it's superior, but will never be as recognized as the original.")

German kolsch beers are golden or straw-colored and light in body.  In appearance (and, to some extent, in taste) they resemble classic continental pilsners.  Beyond this general outline, however, the kolsch product varies widely from brewery to brewery according their individual traditions and preferences.  Some kolsches are brilliantly clear, while others are cloudy due to the addition of a small amount of wheat.  Similarly, some have a strong all-malt flavor (similar to pilsners) while others are sweeter and closer in taste to wheat beers.  They employ varying amounts of noble German hops, which can impart different degrees of earthy hop flavor (though they are not particularly bitter as a general rule).  The most distinctive characteristics of kolsch, however, are derived from the yeast strains used to ferment them.

There are two main families of yeast used by brewers: ale yeast and lager yeast.  One of the most important technical distinctions between these two families has to do with temperature.  Generally, ale yeast is fermented around room temperature (70 to 80 degrees) while lager yeast is fermented at cool temperatures (around 50 to 55 degrees).  Kolsch is considered a "hybrid" beer, meaning it is a cross between an ale and a lager.  Kolsch brewers use unique strains of ale yeast that have been passed down through generations of brewers in Cologne.  Unlike standard ale yeasts, kolsch yeasts thrive at cooler temperatures and kolsch beers are usually fermented anywhere from 60-70 degrees.  Many kolsch brewers also age their beer in cold storage for extended periods of time (a process that is usually reserved for making lagers).  The kolsch yeast produces strong and interesting flavors (like many ale yeasts do) while the cooler fermentation temperature makes for a smooth, lager-like finish.  Taken as a whole, the character imparted is usually described as refreshing and sweet with a subtle fruity flavor.

Taverns in Cologne have probably been brewing a "kolsch-like" product for centuries.  It wasn't until 1905, however, that the style was formalized and began being officially referred to as kolsch.  Over 40 small breweries were producing kolsch for the local market in the 1920s and 1930s, though the style never garnered much attention outside of its hometown.  Cologne was heavily bombed by Allied forces during World War II and only two kolsch breweries were left in business by the end of the war.  But the style made a roaring comeback on the German beer market during the latter half of the 20th century, peaking in the early 1980s.  During this time an assortment of breweries in Germany and abroad were producing light ales and branding them as "kolsch" to capitalize on the popularity of kolsch name.  In 1986 an association of brewers in Cologne established the Kolsch Konvention, a set of guidelines to restrict the number of breweries who could brew kolsch and protect the integrity of the style.  Currently, there are only about 20 breweries in Cologne that are authorized to produce a true, official kolsch.

The bad news is that if you want to sample an authentic kolsch served in the traditional way, you'll probably have to go to Cologne and pay one of those breweries a visit.  It will be served to you in a tall, narrow glass called a stange.  The shape of the stange is designed to create a thick head and retain carbonation (sort of like a champagne flute).  The good news is that over the past decade a few authorized kolsch breweries have begun bottling their product and exporting it to the United States.

One of the pioneers of this movement is the Reissdorf Brewery.  Heinrich Reissdorf, a Cologne-based entrepreneur, founded his brewery in 1894 and was one of the first brewers to market the kolsch style on a grand scale in the early 1900s.  The brewery is still a family-owned concern and is now in the fourth generation of Reissdorf brewers.  This heritage does not come without sacrifice: Heinrich Reissdorf's eldest son and heir apparent was killed in a brewery accident in 1936.  Before World War II the brewery produced a full range of ales and lagers, but they now focus on just making an awesome kolsch (plus a non-alcoholic version of the same).

In the interest of full disclosure, I have never been to Cologne and Reissdorf is the only true German kolsch I've ever tried.  So while I couldn't say how it stacks up against other kolsches, I can attest that it is a delicious brew.  Reissdorf is light and well-balanced with a crisp, dry finish.  The unique character of the kolsch yeast is present in the form of a slightly fruity tang.  Look for the bottles with a red-and-white checkered emblem blazoned with the "HR" logo, an homage to both the city flag of Cologne and the monogram of the brewery's founder.  Be warned that Reissdorf Kolsch isn't cheap - at my local store six-packs go for about $15.  But if you like the American kolsch-style beers that are popping up all over the place these days, I would definitely recommend sampling a bottle of Reissdorf and experiencing a 100% certified authentic kolsch.

QUICK EDITORIAL NOTE, IN CASE ANYONE IS INTERESTED:  I know that a lot of the German words I've used in this blog, such as Koln and Kolsch, are supposed to have a trema (i.e. those two little dots) over their vowels to mark the German "umlaut".  I honestly haven't been able to figure out how to add those little suckers in this blog format, but once I do I promise to make the necessary corrections.