Fridge full of fresh hops (and oh hello again)

 Hello from the outside (at Chuck's Hop Shop patio)

At least I can say that I've tried (one of Cloudburst's fresh hops)

...and that's about all I've got from Adele and modern things post-2010 or so. 

Well, not quite. Because someone does in fact have a fridge full of fresh hops from fresh hop season 2021! 

(plus another 4-pack in my not-so-little black backpack [kudos to the five people who might recognize that mid-1990s musical gem])

Club fridge, featuring fresh hop season 2021.

So it's been awhile - in fact, a four-years-plus awhile. As it turns out, a lot has happened (and changed!) since my last post in September 2018. I started a PhD program, I became an auntie, I lived in Switzerland for a summer, I met a met man-person, I learned new sports things (namely bouldering and mountain biking), I moved away from my beloved Fremont (and ~3 block walk to Fremont Brewing, my home away home) to north Greenwood, among many developments and adventures. And ah yes - the COVID-19 pandemic upended our lives as we knew them (and continues to do so).

Yet some bits and bobs (no, I still haven't tried that Reuben's Brews IPA) have continued through the years, including an unflagging dedication to (in no particular order):

• My people
• Dogs
• 90s-to-early 2000s music (why yes, I was happily jamming to Stroke 9 and now the Offspring came on) 
• Hoppy beers (though my main tastes have started to skew toward hop-forward pale ales and/or tasty IPAs of lower ABV)

I've now been in Seattle for ~12 years (!!!), and this place still keeps me on my toes. Moving outside of the Wallingford-Fremont area (aka where I had lived for approximately eight years) has opened my eyes (and tastebuds) to new haunts and hoppy wonderment. To date, four places have been particular stand-outs:

• Chuck's Hop Shop Greenwood: from summer work sessions to fresh hop hunting, Chucks has delivered in so many ways. There's something special about this place, and while it's clearly been in existence well before my move to the Greenwood area, I can't stop being so hoppy about it.
• Ridgewood Bottle & Tap: here I've had the privilege of trying Georgetown rarities such as Juniorzafa (Bode's lower-ABV sibling which somehow maintained the original's stellar hop profile) and the Washington Fresh Hop Festival 2021's Best in Show, Energy Cone by Single Hill Brewing. The bottle (plus can) shop is pretty impressive as well: for instance, this past week Ridgewood had four different Cloudburst fresh hop beers available.
• Lantern Brewing: as my (now) closest neighborhood brewery, I have soft spot for this low-key tasting room. The beers have been great, as have the food truck rotations.
• Flying Bike Cooperative: this is now our go-to post-bouldering beer place with the north Seattle crew. I still haven't figured out my preferred brewskis here, but I do like the Zest-a-Peel (and specifically the variety with a grapefruit focus).

And with that, I best hop to it.

Cheers,
N

Let's talk about (fresh) hops, baby

If variety is the spice of life, apparently I'm a tried-but-true kind of spice girl - Hoppy Spice!

(aka the long-lost sixth Spice Girl...oh my, what a Halloween costume that could be).

Apparently, for the last three years, my only or most up-to-date beer blog post occurred around mid-to-late September, which is prime hops season out here in the PNW. This is otherwise known as, quite literally, the hoppiest time of the year - because fresh hop season is. truly. the. best.

Not convinced? Maybe a Pultizer-winning publication's coverage of "The Wonder of the Fresh Hop" can bring you from the dark side...

Anyway, fresh hop season is upon us in Seattle, and what a season it's been already. Fremont's Field to Ferment program has released all three of its fresh-hopped Pale Ales (Centennial, Simcoe, and Citra this year), and the brewery's famed Cowiche Canyon Fresh Hop Ale. KB came over to split a Citra and Cowiche last night, and wow - well, the 2018 Cowiche is epic. Do yourself a favor and try it at the Urban Beer Garden (and/or Brouwer's "All the Fremont Fresh Hops" event on October 10) before they run out...(guess where this month's dogsitting funds are being allocated...)

As I (attempt to) make the fresh hop rounds this year, I'll do my darnedest to provide more timely updates...or at least prior to September 2019. Beyond Brouwer's, I'm currently keeping my sights on the Noble Fir's Seattle v. Portland Hop Showdown (September 29), the Pine Box's annual Fresh Hop fiesta (October 9-12), and any opportune moment to steal away to Cloudburst, as Steve Luke's freshies are the mad gnar pow of the beer world.

Cheers!
N

Screw skipping - let's (fresh) hop to my Lou my darling

Positive spin: it's been less than a year since I updated my beer blog! Yay!
Negative (Nancy) spin: what the *!@% - why has it taken you so long? You've certainly had enough beers to write about...

Well, well, well. Today I'm going to take the Positive...Polly? Prudence? Patsy? approach and kick such Negative Nancy-ness to the curb. Here's to beers (however belated) and specifically, the hoptastic kind!

It still blows my mind that people think they're being original when they call me this...

In Seattle, September can bring a mixed bag of...things. In particular, September can bring continued summer and/or the city's first week (or two) of endless rain, gray, and drear. Yet one constant remains: September is fresh hops season in Seattle, the (literally) most hop, hoppiest time of the year!

What are fresh hops - and what makes them so special (aka amazing)? People who actually know beer (aka not myself) are likely to have a better answer, but based on a 30-second conversation with one of my favorite Fremont Brewing folks (and a seemingly astute Washington Beer Blog article), here's my synopsis (syhop?sis): Normal ales or IPAs are typically brewed with an assortment of dried hops. Fresh hop beers involve chucking a crap ton of hops into the brewing cauldron within 24 hours of being picked from the hop vine. How exactly this works - well, I'll leave that to the brewing wizards who concoct such drinkable delights.

This past week, Fremont Brewing released the first of three fresh hopped beers as part of their Field to Ferment program, the Centennial Fresh Hop Pale Ale. As an unabashed Amarillo and Citra hop fan, I'm clearly looking forward to the next two rounds of the Field to Ferment series. Nonetheless, I've been pleasantly surprised by how I've enjoyed the Centennial version (I may or may not be on my second six-pack at home).

Beyond Fremont's stellar selection of fresh-hopped brews, other Seattle-based fresh hop happenings include:

• Reuben's Brews Amarillo Fresh Hop is available starting September 15, followed by Mosaic Fresh Hop and Crikey Fresh Hop (late September 2017). 
• Fresh Hop Throwdown at the Noble Fir on September 23 (with potentially up to 16 or so fresh hop beers?!)
• (Allegedly) the 2nd Annual Seattle Fresh Hops Festival hosted by Hale's Palladium on October 7. I say "allegedly" since the current url links out to the 2016 event (otherwise documented by the Washington Beer Blog).

Cheers!

N

When (h)opportunity knocks

As a hop-loving former-East-Coastian now-Seattleite, my bi-coastal proclivities occasionally pop up in the most interesting ways ‒ and notably, often when it comes to hoppy, delicious beer.

If you judged me by my beer tastes alone, you'd assume I was born into a mossy, water-logged PNW family who enjoyed hop-infused vitamins at breakfast. I'm a one-trick IPA pony with, quite literally, just one one-liner at the bar: "What's your hoppiest beer on tap?"

Yet if you judged me by ambulatory speed and/or competitiveness surrounding fairly nonsensical things (e.g., being among the first in line for Pliny the Younger; waking up at 4:30 am PST to partake in a random drawing for 40 quid "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child" tickets), you'd see my East Coast origins as clear as a beer-water Bud Light.

So what happens when a surprise off-night is upon me ‒ and my two (now) favorite fresh hop beers are available for purchase?!?!

HOP-DOWN. YO.

That's right. Fremont Brewing just released its Field to Ferment Citra Fresh Hop Pale Ale yesterday (September 28), and HOLY MOLY ‒ it's amazing. I may or may not have a text from J requesting a purchase of a second pint, quote "IT WAS TOO DELICIOUS."

But then ‒ drum roll ‒ there's Reuben's Brews' Amarillo Fresh Hop Pale Ale (released on September 26), and that's topped my fresh hop list ever since I learned that fresh hops were a thing (circa two-to-three years ago). My dad ‒ an arguable IPA aficionado (I constantly thank whatever DNA sequencing gave me my dad's appreciation of bitter, hoppy beer) ‒ still raves about the Amarillo Fresh Hop I brought to upstate NY for him.

So ‒ the hop-down.

To do this right and proper, you'd ideally concoct some kind of blind taste-testing, perhaps conduct a good palate-cleansing in between tastes. Usually one would need an additional participant for said blind taste-testing, preferentially someone who knew which brew went where and then could say "Ta DA, you liked THIS one the best!" upon your report of the most beloved sample.

As a single person in residence without roommates, it's not as immediately easy (or scientifically robust) to host an impromptu taste-test/hop-down for...one's self. Can you really create the (h)optimal experimental conditions worthy of such two great beers?

Yes. Or at least a second-rate experiment of sorts.

Solution: pour a bit of each beer into a pint glass previously stored in freezer. Note which fresh-hop goes with each glass (for some reason, I immediately associated Woodchuck Cider/Vermont with Reuben's), close one's eyes, and then switch around the two pint glasses until you really can't recall which one could be on each side. Take a small sip of each without seeking a peek (however tempting that might be), and repeat. And the winner is...

...Citra Citra Citra. Fremont Fremont Fremont. 

After swearing by the Amarillo for so long (aka a year, perhaps two to three ‒ what still seems like a long time, oy), I will posit, for better or worse, I selected Fremont's Fresh Hop Citra Pale Ale as my preferred brew in the Hop-Down 2016 ultimate fight...to the...delicious beer of the evening.

 And that, my friends, is what you do when (h)opportunity knocks.

Cheers,
N

Hoppy (fresh hop) fall!

For better or for worse, my beer tasting and consumption has been much more consistent (and ok, fine, plentiful) than my upkeep of this blog in 2016. Truly, I've meant to update it every once and awhile (eg, "Ohhhh, this Skookum Billing Waves IPA is sooooo good - I really should write about it the beer blog" "Hotline Bling? Can Cloudburst do any wrong?"), but inevitably, something else would distract me ("What - a GSP puppy - WHERE?!") and/or usurp my occasional bouts of free time (it might rhyme with Smogal Durban of Gisease).

I may or may not have run after this adorable GSP puppy on Cannon Beach.

Three things have prompted the return of the beer blog:

(1) The pace at work has slowed down for a few beats.

(2) Our new Director of Research Management asked me about my beer blog on his first day.

(3) It's FRESH HOP SEASON, the most wonderful time of the year in the PNW.

Yes, I've pre-ordered 12 bottles of Reuben's Amarillo Fresh Hop Pale Ale, my most favorite of Seattle-based fresh hops to date. I'd like to hit up the Latona Pub's Fresh Hop Festival on Thursday (and then of course the Pine Box and Brouwer's respective fresh hop events in early October). Fresh hoppity-hop-hops - oh how I love thee.

So what exactly is fresh hop beer? Outside of the PNW, it's not a term that one frequently encounters - I certainly didn't know about it until I moved to Seattle. I'm sure there's a much more technical definition of "fresh hop beer" that the true gurus of brew would give you - I will never claim such knowledge or expertise - but in sum, what makes a "fresh hop" beer fresh and hoppilicious is that a bunch of hops picked directly from the vine are used in the brewing process without additional drying or processing. Apparently there's a "24-hour rule" for fresh hops, such that the "fresh hop" title only should bestowed upon an ale if the hops used have spent less than 24 hours off the hop vine. Apparently fresh hops can be a bit wild and unwieldy for brewers (a Washington Beer blog article I read is super helpful in describing some of the challenges associate with fresh hops), but if done right, you get this amazingly delightful, bursting-with-flavor, and yes - FRESH - beer that makes your tastebuds want to do a hoppy dance. 

Fremont Brewing, one of my all-time favorite breweries, has introduced a really cool program this year, Field to Ferment. I've thoroughly enjoyed comparing the differences between the Centennial and Simcoe fresh hops thus far, and I look forward to sampling the Citra and Mosaic (though I fear I've missed the Citra this week). Amarillo remains my favorite hop (I think), but who knows what this fresh hop season will bring...

Cheers,

N

(Cloud)bursting onto Seattle's beer scene: No Recess IPA

Guys. I might have a new favorite IPA. I mean, favorite favorite. Potentially a new, all-time favorite IPA.

I've been a bit nervous to say anything about it, even though I've felt this way for a few weeks now. It's a little like when you've gone on a few stellar dates, but you haven't spilled to your best friends yet. As if by remaining mum, your excitement for this new unknown can't be ruined by reality's frequent letdowns.

Well, I can't keep it a secret any longer: I kind of love Cloudburst Brewing's No Recess IPA.

A number of us went to Cloudburst on January 8, its second official day of operation. Upon opening the door of its low-key, warehouse-style storefront, we were immediately greeted with a hoptastic medley of aromas and chatter ‒ the place was packed.

And soon it was very clear why. Upon my first sip of No Recess, I audibly moaned. "Ohhhhhhhhhh. This. is. a. really. good. beer."

Second sip. Moan number two, followed by "Guys, this is an amaaaaaazing beer. You need to try it. Now."

No Recess IPA, at 6.8% ABV and 65 IBUs, is jam-packed with hops (Chinhook, Centennial, Citra, and Amarillo) but remains an incredibly well-balanced, crisp and citrus-y pint of wonderment. And since it's a slightly lower ABV than a number of my other favorite IPAs (e.g., Fremont's the Brother), it's very, very drinkable. Perhaps dangerously drinkable.

Perhaps the amazingness of No Recess shouldn't be surprising ‒ after all, it's a first-class IPA lovingly crafted by the brewer who concocted few of my Elysian favorites (e.g., Dayglow and Space Dust). Yet each time I have it, whether it's at the brewery or on tap at this city's fine beer establishments, I'm once again blown away by No Recess.

Well done Cloudburst. You may have just upended my top IPA list. Or at least until I try your new hop-laden brew, Pigeonhole IPA, which apparently tastes like a grapefruit beer bomb...(yayyayyayyay). Welcome to the neighborhood and congratulations on a smashing debut on the Seattle beer scene.

Cheers!
N

(Brew) Dog Days of Summer: the Scotland edition

Just because it's been nearly four months since I've updated "the beer blog" doesn't mean I haven't been enjoying some superb hop bombs – in fact, quite the opposite occurred.

After presenting on some of my work at Oxford in June (yes, Oxford, as in Oxford, the University of, ideally spoken with a delicate yet effervescent British accent), I hopped around Scotland for two weeks, hiking the West Highland Way and revisiting that beloved country for the first time in nearly a decade (I spent 2005-2006 studying there). Beyond my incredible adventure through the Highlands and soaking in the magical wonderment that is Scotland, I discovered that the craft beer craze had hit Scotland - and hit it hard. And hoptastically.

So this is how my Scotland trip worked: when I wasn't hiking, exploring ancient city relics, or freaking out about the penguin parade (it's a real and wonderful, wonderful thing), I would Google "best coffee in [city/town x]" in the morning and "best places to get beer in [city/town x]" or "best craft beer pubs in [city/town x]" by the afternoon/evening to dictate my day's wanderings. I highly recommend this travel tactic, particularly if you enjoy coffee and beer as much as I do, and/or walk as quickly/move through tourist areas as efficiently as I prefer.


First stop: Edinburgh
Amid highly excellent beer and burger joints (Holyrood at 9A had epic selections of local Scottish and Irish IPAs, and well, the burgers were kind of the best), I came across one of Scotland's finest breweries: Brew Dog. My first Brew Dog beer was at its Edinburgh bar location, with me flying solo on a fairly packed night. I was having trouble deciding between a number of IPAs and then some nice Scottish lad ordered me a Punk IPA.

Described as an American IPA coming in at 45 IBUs and 5.6% ABV, I wouldn't have though I'd like the Brew Dog Punk IPA so much. However, Beer Advocate's description nails it: "This light, golden classic has been subverted with new world hops to create a devastating explosion of flavour....an all-out riot of grapefruit, pineapple and lychee, before a spiky bitter finish....Turn up the volume. Pay the man. Embrace the punked up, pimped up Maharajah of Pale Ales. Nothing will ever be the same again." This apt description was the main reason I decided to enjoy a bottle at Edinburgh's oldest pub (The White Hart Inn, est. 1516) pre-lunch one day...and then perhaps a few more times along my two-week Scottish fling this summer.

Enjoying a Punk IPA at the White Hart Inn after walking around Edinburgh all morning.

 

Taking in the West Sands at St. Andrews at sunset, Punk IPA can (not) in hand.

When you have 1.5 hours in a small fishing village and there's an amazing beer garden...

Second stop: St. Andrews

Oh St. A's. You magical little village on the sea, you. My home of one year, my first time ever being abroad, experiencing a "different" culture (as much as a fairly posh Scottish university town, populated by a lot of Americans, can contrast with my day-to-day life). A place that cultivated my wanderlust and desire to experience the world outside of "high-income countries," largely thanks to trips inspired by and/or led by JJB to Turkey and Egypt. A place where I experienced the highest of highs (meeting some of the most incredible friends I've ever encountered and truly falling in love for the first time), a place where I questioned so many things and struggled to make sense of it all (as 21-year-olds occasionally do, and naturally with an extra heaping or so of self-doubt and drama). And oh yes – a place where I never sampled its beers.

Enter St. Andrews Brewing Company, a wee brewery located on South Street that opened in 2013. While its staple IPA wasn't on tap or available in bottle-form when I visited (high demand's such a drag sometimes), I got to enjoy some kind of ridiculous double-triple-imperial something soon after I arrived at St. A's. And like any well-crafted double-triple-imperial something (like the Reuben Brews's Life on Mars Imperial IPA I'm enjoying right now after a long day of writing), you couldn't tell it was a 8%-plus ABV beer based on the taste. To me, that's always the best barometer of a beer's structure (as well as the brewery's overall statue): can you make a fairly high-alcohol-content beer without it collapsing into brandywine territory? Is it complex yet drinkable, maintaining an enjoyable flavor profile without falling into booze central? And St. Andrews delivered, with aplomb.

Third stop(s): the West Highland Way

While the beer selections were generally less expansive during my 100+ mile trek through the Highlands, I did thoroughly enjoy one particular Scottish brew along the way: Belhaven's Twisted Thistle IPA. The Thistle's ABV and IBU ratings vary depending on where you look (a range of 5.3% to 6.1% and 50-70, respectively), but I think Belhaven's own description is pretty spot-on: "A stunting IPA....Your taste buds will tingle with pleasure after a sip or two of this golden nectar." Yes and yes.

Enjoying my first Thistle in Drymen, Scotland.

What I believe is a Twisted Thistle after a 23-mile day on the Way (plus Ben Lommond).

Fourth stop: Glasgow 

I had the great fortune of visiting a number of excellent brew pubs in Glasgow (e.g., the Wee Pub at the Chip, Curlers Rest), but the Glasgow-based Brew Dog pub still took the cake. It had a fantastic set-up, and I got to try both IPA is Dead and a rhubarb-infused Hardcore IPA when I visited. The latter, well, I don't understand why it was so fantastic, but it was – and I don't even like fruity beers! At all! (well, unless it's crazy grapefruit-y thanks to Amarillo hop fun). I even gained a bit of Glasgow-beer street-cred, as I had tried this rhubarb concoction before many of the Glaswegian beer gurus had, though they had heard about its lure. Two months later, I still have a bottle of Hardcore IPA I purchased on my last day in Scotland – it was meant as something to enjoy soon after my travels, I don't like holding onto small(er) batch beers for too long since they tend to turn sooner than more international brands. Hmmmmm – who's in for a Scottish beer tasting this weekend? Perhaps M's birthday celebration on Saturday afternoon could warrant such an offering...

...in sum, Scottish beers are awesome and you should try them. Particularly Brew Dog. Let's see if we can get some of our UK-based folks to bring more over for us in the coming months...

Cheers!

N