For most of the readers of this website, the notion of coffee in beer is old hat. You are well aware of the effect of adding some coffee to a dark porter or stout (or even the occasional IPA, right Mikkel?). The sharp roast and dark burnt character can [...]]]>

Photo courtesy of Vue Weekly

For most of the readers of this website, the notion of coffee in beer is old hat. You are well aware of the effect of adding some coffee to a dark porter or stout (or even the occasional IPA, right Mikkel?). The sharp roast and dark burnt character can accent a dark beer quite nicely.

But for most consumers, this is a novel phenomenon. The two seem like they should be on opposite poles of the beverage family. One is a morning upper, the other an evening relaxant. When I add a coffee-infused beer to a tasting event, I regularly get initial responses from the guests of “coffee and beer?? What??”. I find many of the doubters are people who have not sampled a lot of stouts or porters, and so are less aware of the roastier side of beer flavour. Once they have a taste, they quickly come to realize the combination can work.

So, when the editors of Vue Weekly told contributers that they were doing a coffee issue, I jumped right in. I saw the opportunity to pontificate about the potentials of coffee and beer. You can find the resulting column here. My goals for the piece were fairly modest – introduce consumers to the possibilities of coffee in beer so that they might consider purchasing an example. I spend a bit of time discussing how to infuse coffee in beer and then look at three good examples, ranging from the more mild to the more assertive.

I start with Mill Street’s Coffee Porter, which I find quite an enjoyable beer. The coffee roast and chocolate malt notes blend well together. Without the coffee I suspect this would be a fairly boring beer, but with it the beer becomes quite interesting.

The second beer is Yukon’s Midnight Sun Espresso Stout. I did a stand-alone review of it a couple years back, so didn’t go into any great detail about it. However, I can say here that it remains one of my favourite coffee stouts. I really appreciate the balance they find in the beer, which is generally one of their hallmarks. I am glad they went away from the 1-litre bottle in which it used to be packaged, going for the more friendly six-pack.

The third beer was going to be Mikkeller’s coffee-infused IPA, but it is no longer available in Alberta, so talking about it would be irresponsible. To be honest, I was rather underwhelmed by that beer, but I really wanted to show that coffee wasn’t just for stouts. I remember wondering where the coffee went, which suggests that the effect of coffee in beer is partly influenced by the roasty malts in the beer. Instead, I highlighted Beer Geek Breakfast, which is worthwhile for a variety of reasons, including its name (and the excuse to highlight the bacon-infused version). I discuss the original version (although I find the bourbon barrel-aged version preferable). It is a good closer because it is such an intense beer. Intense coffee, intense body and roastiness, and intense alcohol  It completes the continuum from mild to intense. Just like coffee.

I enjoy opportunities to demonstrate just how versatile beer is. That is one of the great hurdles beer faces – getting people out of the rut that beer is only suitable for sporting events and frat parties.

Late on Friday, Molson announced that it was de-listing Carling Black Label Big Ten from Alberta. For those of you unfamiliar with this beer (and I expect that is most of you) this is a cheap, high alcohol (10.1%) beer that comes in a 1.18 litre bottle. [...]]]>

I think this photo says it all...

Late on Friday, Molson announced that it was de-listing Carling Black Label Big Ten from Alberta. For those of you unfamiliar with this beer (and I expect that is most of you) this is a cheap, high alcohol (10.1%) beer that comes in a 1.18 litre bottle. It has for a long time been a favourite of street-involved people looking for a quick, cheap buzz. It certainly fit the bill. I have never tried it, but given its price point ($5.50 a bottle) you can see why it sold well among that demographic.

The decision is a response to a campaign by the Edmonton police and inner city community groups to raise awareness of the problem of cheap, high alcohol beer. Most media outlets were quick to applaud Molson for their decision.

To be sure, I am not going to criticize them for the move. No one who appreciates beer is going to miss this monstrosity. But you will forgive me for complicating the story a bit. Because I fail to see just how this does much to reduce the use of cheap beer by addicted, street-involved people.

A key element of this is that the source of this plight goes much deeper than the availability of a lousy, high-octane beer. Addressing street addiction requires looking seriously at our policies around income insecurity, housing and addiction treatment. This is a complex, troubling issue that requires far more attention than our current municipal, provincial and federal politicians have been prepared to give it – in large part because we are talking about voiceless men and women (many of them aboriginal) that are easy to ignore. Myself, I refuse to dehumanize them. They are troubled, admittedly messed up, human beings that once had potential and now need our empathy and solidarity to help them get their life back on track, which is not an easy task.

But that is not my point in this post (given that this is a beer-related site). I want to argue that Molson’s move, while laudable, is not as significant as they claim. While Carling was the champ of the high octane corn beer, there are a number of others that come just as close. Big Bear, also in a 1.2 litre bottle, clocking in at 7% and Ridin Dirty at 6.2% in a whopping 2-litre plastic bottle are two that immediately come to mind. They are all clustered in the same price point and thus will be a ready-shift for those who used Black Label Big Ten. True, neither is a Molson product (Sleeman’s and Fort Garry, respectively) so they cannot control their competitors. But they can look at the rest of their line-up,  which includes a number of discount beer (such as Keystone and other Black Label brands) and a variety of packaging options, many of which encourage reckless drinking (Canadian Cold Shots, anyone?).

I also realize that even if no cheap beer was available the most addicted of consumers will switch to other substances – some even more hazardous than poorly made beer. This takes me back to my original point about the problem being complex.

I am well aware this is a problem much bigger than Molson, and I am not trying to diss them for this recent move – which is a good thing. I just want to use the small window the media coverage created to remind us all that this is a much bigger problem than high octane beer. A good chunk of the beer industry is reliant upon large sales of cheap beer in ways that are not always responsible. People buy discount beer for a variety of reasons, and I am not arguing that the discount end of the market be restricted. I do, however, have a number of questions about the marketing and promotion of beer in that category. I believe there is an embarrassing need among many brewers to promote some of their products among those who will buy large quantities of it, potentially to their detriment.

In many ways, it is the nature of capitalism – when there is a market, there will be a supplier. But it doesn’t mean I need to be happy about it and can’t call on brewers to start being part of the solution, rather than part of the problem. My hope is that this announcement sparks a debate about cheap beer and the role brewery’s play in either perpetuating or ameliorating the cycle of addiction and poverty. And maybe, just maybe, Molson’s competitors will feel some need to remove their pop-bottle sized malt liquors off the shelves, too.

My column in the current issue of Planet S Magazine revisits a longstanding beef of mine – date codes. I have never understood why breweries feel the need to mask the production/best before date in a jumble of letters and numbers. Telling the consumer how old their beer is [...]]]>

Photo Credit: Planet S Magazine

My column in the current issue of Planet S Magazine revisits a longstanding beef of mine – date codes. I have never understood why breweries feel the need to mask the production/best before date in a jumble of letters and numbers. Telling the consumer how old their beer is seems like basic common courtesy to me. But, no, when it comes to the major breweries you need a graduate degree in linguistics to figure it out.

The column itself (which you can read here) is a slightly reworked version of a Beer 101 column I did a couple years ago (and wrote a post about here), so I won’t go into the details of what specific codes might mean. But the basics are that most of the corporate brewers disguise their production/packaged/best before date in some kind of bizarre code that only they and the most enterprising of consumers can decipher. Craft brewers tend to be much better, most  stamping a straightforward date on the box/bottle. In general most craft brewers tend to be more committed to transparency with their customers and they risk losing a lot more if someone drinks their beer past their prime – they may never return.

Rather than go into specific codes, I want to use this as an opportunity to renew my call for some kind of regulation on date codes. Clearly the big brewers aren’t going to do anything voluntarily, so maybe we need to force them. We regulate all sorts of things around beer, including labeling requirements. So how hard would it be to add a requirement of a clearly indicated date on the packaging? This is exactly what the European Union requires of beer produced  in its jurisdiction. All beer must have a best-before date clearly marked (although it can get a bit silly when dealing with a Lambic or a Belgian Quadrupel).

Not only is a best before date mandatory, the EU even regulates how the date should be printed: “This must consist of day, month, and year—in that order—and be preceded by the words “best before,” “best before end,” or “use by” for highly perishable goods.”

Maybe to some North American minds this is an example of big government micro-managing brewery operations, but I contend it is basic consumer protection. We have a right to know how old our beer is, and in a way that is easy to determine. And as regulations go, this one would be pretty easy to comply with.

My one critique of the EU regulation is that they require the date to be a “best before” date, which certainly makes sense for perishable goods like milk. Beer is different and I think a “produced on” or “packaged on” date would make more sense. If that pale lager is six months old, I know not to expect much from it. However, if I am looking at a bottle of barley wine or Russian Imperial Stout, I know it will just be starting to stretch its legs a bit.

Either way, the goal should be clarity and simplicity. Give me a date and let me choose whether I should still buy the beer or not.

You will all be forgiven – even you Edmontonians – for not knowing about the Edmonton Metropolis Winter Festival. This new six-week long event was designed to draw people downtown during the cold winter months. Its big draw is supposed to be the pavilions designed by renowned Edmonton architects (including one [...]]]>

The Metropolis Pavilions

You will all be forgiven – even you Edmontonians – for not knowing about the Edmonton Metropolis Winter Festival. This new six-week long event was designed to draw people downtown during the cold winter months. Its big draw is supposed to be the pavilions designed by renowned Edmonton architects (including one by Yellowhead Brewing owner, Gene Dub) where you can partake in a mini-Taste of Edmonton, enjoy some kid-oriented activities and listen to music in what is, essentially,  a heated tent (albeit artistically designed). One of the pavilions is the “Polar Brewhouse”, the festival’s circular beer tent.

As near as I can tell Metropolis is not really taking off. Not surprising. It is only open on weekends, promotion has been virtually non-existent, and quite simply there is not a whole lot going on to attract people. Why should they bother heading downtown in even the moderate temperatures we have experienced this year, when there are so many other things to do?

But this isn’t a cultural opinion blog. The reason I am writing this is that I paid a quick visit to the Polar Brewhouse the other day, just out of curiousity. A VERY quick visit, as it worked out. Where do I start? Well, the pavilion design itself is odd. It is a white fabric,  circular dome  with an angular roof. The interior has scaffolding posts every few feet and an OSB floor. They have hung a few mid-sized televisions around the dome. A series of tall round tables are scattered throughout. It is an odd feel. It is not a particularly cozy atmosphere. It is rather cold and makeshift, actually.

More importantly was the beer. The Brewhouse is run by the Canadian Brew House chain, which was not an encouraging revelation. As expected (the CBH is a Labatt/AB-INBEV tied house) the only beer available (all in cans, no taps) were Bud, Bud Light and Kokanee. Really? Three beer, in this day and age? They had some coolers and hard liquor too, but I didn’t really take notice of that.

The only adjective I put in my notebook to describe the Polar Brewhouse experience was “anemic”. It was sad and pathetic. There were very few people there and I can see why. After 10 minutes you would be desperate to get out.

I know full well what kind of bar CBH is (which is why I have never stepped foot inside one). My beef is with the festival organizers, Events Edmonton. They also organize Taste of Edmonton, which has slowly become a worthy festival to attend. For those unaware of TofE, it is a summer festival of food, where dozens of Edmonton restaurants provide sample-sized portions of their dishes.The past few years  have also included a wine tent and a beer tent. Three years ago Events Edmonton committed to making the beer tent more of a Taste of Edmonton Beer, and expanded the selection to include local craft brewers and even a house beer, Taste 25 (designed by yours truly and brewed by Alley Kat). I have been very encouraged by the direction they have taken with Taste of Edmonton, feeling like it is today a much more well rounded event. I enjoy spending a couple of hours sampling some food, sipping on a Taste 25 and enjoying the summer warmth.

That is why I am so bitterly disappointed by the way the Metropolis beer tent has been handled. They should know better. Any old bar offers cans of Bud Light, and with a much better atmosphere. If you want to invite people to come and enjoy a beer in a wintery tent, you need to draw them in with something original, interesting and unique. Sure, CBH probably paid for the right to serve their watery lager, but that feels penny-wise and pound-foolish. If you want to start a new winter tradition, you need to do it right from the beginning.

I see no reason why Events Edmonton couldn’t have handed the beer tent over to Edmonton’s three breweries. Between them I bet they could have handled it – and given people a reason to pop by. Their localization of Taste of Edmonton has been a big hit – and they should have learned from that experience.

As it is I have no motivation to return, either to the beer tent or to the Metropolis site itself. Which is a shame, because I suspect I am not alone. If Metropolis dies (and I suspect it will), Events Edmonton will have no one to blame but themselves.