Moose Drool and Big Sky

Ever hear of Moose Drool?  It’s a Brown Ale from Big Sky Brewing in Missoula, Montana.  I’ve had a bad attitude about Moose Drool ever since I first heard the name sometime in the mid to late ‘90’s.  I instantly hated the name because it epitomized the penchant among craft brewers for giving screwy/odd-ball names to their beers.  I think Moose Drool is the worst name in the craft brew world.  I mean, naming a beer after an animal’s saliva just seems like one of the stupidest things ever. Bodily fluids, whether flowing, squirting, streaming, dripping or oozing, aren't what I want to be reminded of when choosing a beverage. 

The Moose Drool graphic isn’t much better than the name itself, as it simply makes concrete what was formerly left to the imagination:

Just look at that gusher!  Good grief, the moose appears to be barfing!  If you look closely, you’ll notice the discoloration of the surface water where the discharge is concentrated, indicating a significant amount of gross particulates suspended in the fetid slobber.  Nothing you'd want to brew ale with, that's for sure.  This graphic of the Water-Barfing Moose is actually an improvement over the even less appealing Hydrophobic Moose of an earlier, though still commonly seen, label:

The Alces alces above isn’t up to his balls in a stream-fed pond but rather slobbering his way along dry land, possibly following a recent run-in with a rabid dog just outside tired old Maycomb, Alabama.  I reckon  Atticus "One Shot" Finch would drop this brain-addled animal in a heartbeat.  "Jem, Scout, don't you go near that moose, you understand?  Don't go near him, he's just as dangerous dead as alive."  Something’s wrong with this moose, for sure, and I certainly wouldn't be interested in drinking any of its mouth juices. 

Because of my aversion to the name Moose Drool, I’ve always had a certain contempt for Big Sky Brewing, even refusing to purchase any BS beer either at ale houses or at grocery stores.   I've even passed up multiple opportunities to visit the brewery because I simply had no interest in supporting a company that would call an ale Moose Drool.  I still hate that name, but due to a recent visit to the brewery, I’ve called off  my one-man boycott and am now a fan of Big Sky Brewing. 

If you know where to look, you can see Big Sky Brewing from I-90 as you're passing through Missoula, especially eastbound.  It’s a stone's throw from the freeway, super easy to find and is a stop that can be made in conjunction with gassing up at the nearby Mobile station (Deano's, just off the freeway and almost sharing a parking lot with Big Sky).  Whether eastbound or westbound, just take the Airway Blvd. exit off I-90 like you’re heading to the airport, hang a right at either Harrier or Expressway and then turn onto Trumpeter.  You can't miss the place.  Big facility; plenty of parking.

Big Sky is unlike any other microbrewery I’ve been to in Montana.  Many breweries in the state have a fly-by-night feel to them, as if they were clandestine operations that might fold at any moment, but not Big Sky.  The makers of Moose Drool have a big, well-stocked gift shop, and though a gift shop isn’t something I look for in a microbrewery, I found the offering of t-shirts, sweatshirts, hoodies, hats, coasters, placemats, mugs and other souvenirs strangely reassuring.  This is a successful business that's going to be around for a long time to come.  I like knowing it'll be there the next time I'm passing through Missoula.

The taproom was crazy busy the Tuesday afternoon I was there.  I found out that Tuesday is the day they have discounted growler refills, so the take-out crowd  was showing up, jugs in hand, for refills. Half-gallon containers were lined up several deep as the gals operating the taproom had their hands full refilling growlers and pouring complimentary tastes.  There must have been upwards of 30 people in the taproom and 10 jugs waiting to be filled at any one time--lots of activity for a Tuesday afternoon. 

Because one of my pet peeves is microbreweries charging a buck for a mouthful of their brew,  I was very pleased to learn of Big Sky's generous tasting policy.  They limit you to four 3-ounce tastes per day, so no one's in there drinking freebies to their heart's content, but though no one appeared to be scamming more free samples than they were entitled to, it was clear that the growler refill customers made a point of getting all four samples before leaving.   There was quite a festive mood in the taproom, with an apparent mix of locals and university students getting growlers filled, on the one hand, and travelers/tourists picking up souvenirs, on the other, and everyone quaffing free brew and chatting with their neighbors.

Above, a sample of Moose Drool fronting a couple growlers.  After holding out on Moose Drool for close to 15 years, I finally had my first taste just a few feet away from the kettles it's brewed in.  I was blown away.  I’m not a connoisseur of Brown Ale, so I don’t know if it is considered an exemplary one, but I really liked it and am guessing it is quite a fine Brown.  Full flavored with a very pleasant sweetness and mouth feel, with just a hint of bitterness.

There were six brews on tap the day I visited.  I tried Moose Drool Brown, Scape Goat Pale and Big Sky IPA.  I always like it when a brewery’s namesake brew is their IPA.  It usually means that they take their IPA very seriously.  Everything else at Big Sky Brewing has its own thematic or quirky name, but the IPA is simply Big Sky IPA.  I like that.  Can't read the chalkboard?  Let's take a look from the other side:

That's better.  At the top of the list, Powder Hound is their big Winter Ale.  It's seasonal, so I should have tried it when I had the chance.  Doubt it'll be available on my next trip.  While sitting at the bar, I overheard lots of good comments about the Belgian as people sampled it, but the  growler refills were strictly Pale, IPA and Brown.  

The tap handles are pretty nice, especially Trout Slayer, Big Sky's wheat ale, there on the right.  Of course, the moose is pretty cool, too:

After being amazed by the Moose Drool, I was equally impressed with the Scape Goat Pale and the IPA.  Both of them were perfectly balanced for being deliciously hop-centric.  The purported 65 ibu of the IPA did not overpower the flavor with bitterness. There was nothing I didn't like about Moose Drool, Scape Goat and Big Sky, and  I could make either one of the latter two my go-to brew.

Big Sky Brewing is a big operation, canning, bottling and kegging their ales for distribution all over the West.  You won't find it back East yet, but other than Hawaii, every state west of Indiana has at least one Big Sky distributor.

I’m still not crazy about the name of Big Sky’s most popular ale, but I’ve definitely come to like the product itself.  From now on, Big Sky Brewing will be a regular stop on my drives through Montana, and I'll keep an eye out for their brews in ale houses wherever I go.

Kettlehouse, Missoula

In Missoula, Montana, I used to enjoy dropping in at the Iron Horse microbrewery, a pretty good spot for fresh brewed ale during an I-90 roadtrip, so I was sad to learn on my last visit that Iron Horse has gone the way of so many once-promising microbreweries—it has stopped brewing and turned into more of a tavern.  The establishment is still called Iron Horse, and it has a decent selection of craft brew (in addition  to the yellow fizzy stuff preferred by budget-conscious University of Montana students) but it is no longer a microbrewery. 

I asked the waitress what they were pouring in the way of IPA, and she gave me a few choices, including one from a microbrewery I’d never heard of, Kettlehouse, right there in Missoula.  I ordered a pint of Kettlehouse' Double Haul IPA to go with my hamburger.  The Grizzly Burger was great.  The beer, not so much.  Let me put that in context for you.

In the last eight months, I’ve visited 50 different microbreweries and ale houses where I sampled about as many IPA’s.  On top of that, I drank upwards of 30 India Pales at our favorite local tavern, the Parkway in Tacoma, and 30 additional bottled IPA’s at home in the same time period.  Yes, I’ve had right around 100 different IPA’s in the last eight months.  And of all the IPA’s I’ve drunk, my least favorite by far was this one from Kettlehouse.  I'm sure the good folks at Kettlehouse will write me off as some sort of idiot for not loving their Double Haul, but I didn't find anything I liked about it.

The nose was funky.  The faintest hint of citrus might have been there, but it was totally overpowered by some sort of dank basement smell.  Upon giving it a sip, what I noticed more than anything else was a stale, dish-raggy taste.  There was some bitterness, but the vaunted Cascade hops weren't delivering any floral or citrus notes.  I was thoroughly disappointed.  The waitress came back around and asked how I liked it.  I said, “I drink a lot of IPA.  I wouldn’t order this again.”  She indicated agreement, giving the beer a knowing sneer.  

I found Double Haul so unpleasant that I figured something was wrong with Iron Horse’ taps, so I immediately reneged on my vow to not order it again and went over to Kettlehouse to try it at its source.  Kettlehouse has two brewing facilities in Missoula.  I went to the Northside location that straddles the Orange Street underpass at North 1st. Nice looking building.

I had five choices at Kettlehouse.  In addition to the Double Haul IPA, there was Eddy Out Pale, Lake Missoula Amber, Cold Smoke Scotch and Brick & Mortar Porter.  Nice graphics on the labels, I thought, and good names.

In spite of the other choices, it was the IPA I was curious about, so I ordered another Double Haul.  When I brought it to my nose I instantly knew it was going to be exactly like the one I had choked down earlier at Iron Horse.   There was nothing wrong, apparently, with Iron Horse’ taps—whether at Iron Horse or Kettlehouse, Double Haul had the same dank basement smell and stale taste.  

I learned that the North American Beer Awards gave this beer a Gold Medal in 2008.  How could that be?  Maybe it tasted different in 2008.  Or maybe entries were a bit thin that year.   I don’t know.  But from now on, I’ll be skeptical about the judgments of the NABA.

I've read some reviews of this beer, and they are all over the map.  Totally inconsistent.  I don't know if the beer varies that much or if the reviewers are just sorta stupid.    No one seems to find Double Haul as unpleasant as I do, but I did encounter the words "musty," "stale" and "weak" in a few reviews.  Some people have written glowing reviews of this stinker, praising it for things I didn't event detect. 

Kettlehouse encourages people to drink bongwater.  I’d rather drink Double Haul than bongwater, for sure, but now that I think about it, Double Haul’s aftertaste is vaguely reminiscent of a basement rug soggy with spilt beer and bongwater. 

Of course, Kettlehouse doesn't advocate drinking real bong water.  Evidently, the brewery has two brews, a Porter and a Pale, named Olde Bongwater and Fresh Bongwater, respectively. 

Rather than warning you to stay away from Kettlehouse, I'll encourage you to stop in and have a Double Haul.  I'd like your analysis of the brew.  I know what I like, and I don't like this ale at all.  But I'm sure there are more than six people who love Double Haul, so it is more popular than this blog.

Montana Brewing Company, Billings, MT.

Billings, Montana, has five microbreweries: Yellowstone Valley, Angry Hank’s, Carter’s, Bones and Montana Brewing.  I’ve only been to two of them—Yellowstone Valley and Montana—and only recorded one.  I hope to get around to all of them on my next visit. 

Microbreweries have a notoriously difficult time succeeding in Montana, as State laws serve to protect businesses that have contracts with the distributors of industrial swill.  Microbreweries have to close by 8 pm, they can’t serve food and there’s a 48 oz (3 pint) limit per person per day.  Because of the oppressive legal environment, you can feel like you’re in a Prohibition-era speakeasy when at some Montana microbreweries.  I was at the Garage Pub at Yellowstone Valley Brewing one night, and it definitely had the feel of a clandestine, underground operation.  It’s in a real garage and there’s not much ambience, but it was jumping the night I was there with lots of outdoorsy people getting their 48 ounces and gabbing about ice climbing, fishing, skateboarding, Frisbee golf and what-have-you.  I’ll have to get pictures at Yellowstone Valley next time I’m in Billings. 

I recently visited Montana Brewing, located at 113 N. Broadway (aka N. 28^th St.), just off 1^st Avenue in the heart of downtown Billings.

The brewing facility can be seen through large plate glass windows along one side of the pub.

You’ll notice in the above picture that in 2010 alone, Montana Brewing has received recognition at the World Beer Cup, the Great American Beer Festival, the U.S. Open Beer Championship and the North American Beer Awards.  That’s pretty impressive, though probably a bit deceptive, too.  It might be that Montana Brewing enters contests more frequently than other breweries. 

Montana Brewing was pouring eight ales the night I was last there.

Though they craft an IPA—Mistle-Cone—they weren’t pouring it last week so I settled for their Sharptail Pale.  I was pleasantly surprised by the Pale.  It was well-hopped with Cascades yet perfectly balanced and had no astringency or unpleasant bitterness.  No envelope-pushing with this one.  Very quaffable.  It was also nice that the bartender seemed to know what he was talking about.  I remarked about the quality of the Pale and he immediately credited the Cascade hops and described its characteristics.

 

Nice head on the Pale.

I’m a purist and don’t really like it when a microbrewery also features a full liquor bar, but I guess Montana Brewing has its reasons.  Those reasons probably have to do with Montana’s oppressive microbrewery laws.  One way to get around them—or to operate within them without looking like it—is to divvy up your operation, making distinct entities out of your brewing facility, taproom and restaurant.  Putting them all under one roof is complicated, but I think that’s what Montana Brewing Company has done, and their full bar is part of the way they legitimize their presence as a restaurant—remember, a microbrewery can’t serve food!  Way to go!

I don’t like it when microbreweries describe a beer as being “for hop heads only”—it is so unoriginal and overused—and Montana Brewing does it with two of theirs: Sharptail Pale and Mistle-Cone IPA.  But this is a small offense barely worthy of mention. 

Though I’ve been to Montana Brewing twice and so probably won’t be back again until I’ve visited each of the other four breweries in town, it is definitely a spot I’d recommend.  If you’re eastbound on I-90, Billings is your last chance for fresh craft ale until Granite City in Fargo, North Dakota, over 600 miles away!  And if you’re westbound, Billings is the gateway to the Northwest craft beer scene.  Though Billings has five microbreweries, Montana Brewing has the best hours and amenities, not to mention excellent beers.

Beer Basics, IV

The barley-starch tea—wort—is full of bits of grain and husks which are removed by a filtering process called lautering.  The result is just pure wort—barley-sweetened water without the larger solid leftovers of the grain.  There are still some particulates suspended in the liquid, but the bigger stuff is gone.

The wort is then brought to a rigorous boil for anywhere from 60 to 120 minutes.  During the boil, hops are added to the wort, providing flavor, aroma and bitterness.  There are hundreds of different hops varieties, each having a different flavor, aroma and bitterness profile.

Some ales are brewed using a single kind of hops—so-called “one-hop wonders”—while others combine multiple hops varieties.  The original recipe for Port Brewing’s popular Hop-15 IPA involved 15 different hops. 

At the end of the boil, the wort might be whirlpooled to remove remaining grain particulates.  This can also be accomplished through use of a hopback—basically a filter made of hop flowers. 

The sweet, hoppy wort is then cooled rapidly to bring it to fermentation temperature.

There's been no magic yet.  The sweet barley tea has been bittered and flavored with hops. The stage has been set.

Turning lead into gold was the Holy Grail of Medieval alchemy.  Alchemists theorized the existence of the “philosopher’s stone”—the missing element essential to the process.  What was actually needed was the shedding of three protons from lead—a transmutation requiring far more energy than the result would be worth.  Fortunately, turning wort into beer is significantly easier than turning lead into gold, simply requiring the conversion of the wort’s sugar into alcohol.  The philosopher’s stone for this process is yeast.

Yeast is a micro-organism that fuels its existence and growth by ingesting sugar, and the two by-products of the process—carbon dioxide (CO2) and alcohol—are two things we are typically looking for in our beer.  The CO2 gives the beer its carbonation, its fizz and those beautiful bubbles, and the alcohol gives it, well, its alcohol!

With fermentation underway, the wort can now be called beer for the first time.  The magical transformation has begun!

Beer Basics, III

In Beer Basics I, I mentioned wort a couple times.  Wort is the water-based, starch-infused liquid that is the foundation of a beer.  It is the barley-starch tea to which yeast and hops are added, the yeast to convert the sugar to alcohol and the hops to flavor and bitter the beer.  Producing good wort is the important first step in the brewing process.

A grain, traditionally barley, is made to germinate by soaking it in water, and then the newly germinated kernels are quickly dried.  The dried, germinated grain is called malt, and the malted grain is milled/ground to fine particles.  Most brewers buy the milled malt they will use, though some are growing, malting and milling their own grain (and growing their own hops) to create “Estate Ale.”  The milled malt is added to heated water, thereby releasing the sugars from the malt into the water.   That barley-sweetened liquid is the wort.  No alcohol yet – just water sweetened and colored by malted barley.

The color of the wort will be determined by the color of the malt, which in turn is determined by the type of grain(s) used and to what degree the malt was roasted.  The grains most commonly used in craft brewing - barley, wheat, rye and oatmeal - all impart different coloring to the wort, and each grain has lighter and darker varieties as well.  Extensive roasting tends to darken the malt.

A hydrometer is often dropped into the wort to get a reading of its density, which is the first step in determining the amount of sugar in the mixture.  The amount of sugar in the wort prior to fermentation (prior to the addition of yeast) is commonly referred to as Original Gravity (OG) or Original Extract (OE) and is expressed as Degrees Plato (°P).  By knowing how sugary the wort is, the brewer can get an idea of how much alcohol can be produced because it is the sugar that will be converted into alcohol by the yeast.  The higher the Original Gravity, the "bigger" the beer can be (the "size" of a beer is a reference to its alcohol content). In other words, Original Gravity is an indication of the alcoholic potential in the wort.

More technically, Original Gravity, determined by use of a hydrometer, is a measure of the density of the wort, and from that measurement the Original Extract (amount of sugar/potential alcohol) can be calculated.  The Original Extract is the grams of sugar per 100 grams of wort, usually expressed as Degrees Plato (°P).  

Microbreweries often post the "Original Gravity" of their ales, though Original Extract is more likely what they mean.  Check it out next time you are at a microbrewery or reading the label of your favorite bottled brew.  Now you'll know that they are trying to tell you about the sugar content of the wort.  

There will usually be a close correlation between the °P (Original Gravity/Extract) and the Alcohol By Volume (ABV).  But I'm getting ahead of myself.  We'll get to alcohol production - fermentation - in Brew Basics, IV.

Beer Basics, II

Most of us have a favorite bottled water or two, and we've probably identified a few we don't like at all.  It's "just water," but we really notice the differences.  If you travel, whether around the country or around the world, you find that the taste of water varies significantly from place to place.  Those differences are not covered up in the brewing process, as you might suppose, but are actually accentuated.   

One of Labatt Blue's slogans is "If I wanted water, I would have asked for water."  I understand what they are trying to communicate, but in reality, when you ask for beer, you're asking for water as part of the deal.  Other breweries have actually emphasized the quality of their water.  Coors boasts that it is "Brewed With Rocky Mountain Spring Water."  Hamm's claims to be "From the Land of Sky Blue Water."  People from the Pacific Northwest remember the tagline of good ol' Olympia Beer: "It’s the water."

To "It's the Water" was eventually added a second tagline, "And a lot more."   That is, "It's the water . . . and a lot more."  I think the folks at Oly added that second line to counteract the general consensus, unintentionally validated by the main tagline, that the beer was sorta watery.  In spite of the addition of the second tagline, Olympia's claim to fame, or at least its primary selling point, remained the origin and quality of its water.  The all-caps fine print under "It's the Water" elaborated on the water's uniqueness: "OUR FAMOUS ARTESIAN WATER ENABLES US TO ATTAIN PERFECTION IN THE ART OF BREWING."

Olympia was onto something.  Though a beer is a lot more than its water, the water is exceedingly important because not all water is created equal.  Varying pH balances and mineral content of water have different effects on the flavor of beer.  Bad water, either impure water or too-pure water, can subvert an otherwise flawless attempt and brewing beer.  The use of water poorly suited to the brewing of beer is often the mystery factor that undermines a homebrewer's best efforts.  

Knowledgeable brewers pay close attention to the pH and mineralogical constituency of the water they use and employ different water for different types of beer.  Ales have traditionally been brewed with “hard” (mineral-rich) water, while lagers have been brewed with relatively “soft” water.  That is part of the reason ales tend to be complex while lagers tend to be simple - there's just more going on with ale because of the mineral content of the water.  Water with an especially full mineralogical profile is often preferred for brewing IPA, as the abundance of minerals interacts with the hops to produce interesting nuances both of flavor and bitterness.  In some parts of the country, homebrewers soon discover that ales brewed with "soft" water lack the depth and complexity of ales brewed with "hard" water. 

During a drinking session, we wax eloquent about the malts and hops, rarely considering the fact that the water has also contributed to the flavor and mouthfeel of the brew.  Most of us,  myself included, wouldn't even know how to identify the water's profile and its effect on what we're drinking.  I mean, I've noticed a subtle metallic aftertaste to some ales, but I've always suspected the hops (or the taps!) rather than the water and would not know how to determine if the water played a significant part. 

I doubt that I'll develop my palate to the point where I can identify a microbrew's water profile, though I'd like to be a little more aware of it.  For now, detecting the grain bill or the specific hops is a significant accomplishment for me, and one I suspect will be enough of a challenge for years to come, but still, I don't want to ignore the water. 

Today's lesson is simple: the water used in brewing is not a neutral ingredient but an important element of the brewer's craft.  

Tagay!