Dogfish Head Runs the Voodoo Down

Sampled: Oct. 24, 2010


Note: Bitches Brew made a limited appearance in Nashville. This beer and most I will sample in the coming months were made possible thanks to a beer trade with fellow beer lover Jason Main.

Delaware's finest brewery conjured this oddball stout to commemorate the 40th anniversary of Miles Davis groundbreaking Bitches Brew album. As with that seminal jazz record, Dogfish spruces up an oft-brewed style with delectable flourishes.

At first glance, Bitches Brew seems a fairly typical imperial stout, with a deep brown roasted head and midnight black body. The honey and gesho root expand the boundaries quickly. They say three fingers of imperial stout and "one finger of honey beer with gesho root," but it tastes closer to strong stout enhanced with honey and gesho root. Since Bitches Brew undergoes several primary fermentations with the imperial stout and the Tej, an African honey beer, they are correct. I should know better than to second-guess Sam Calagione when it comes to beer.

For the record, I have no idea what to expect with gesho root, an Ethiopian shrub substituted for hops (which don't grow in Africa - thanks, Wikipedia). It definitely delivers a jab of subdued bitterness near the finish. Both serve to mask the hefty 10 percent ABV.

The honey I can handle. it imparts an ambient canvas of sweetness, not unlike a jazz drummer gently working the skins, and cuts the harsher aspects of roasted malts. The root steps in at the finish. Instead of a rounded honey-produced closing, we get the root's earthy tones that bear a passing resemblance to the effect of the chicory on Dogfish Head's winter stout. The parade through different flavor countries is not one I can repeat regularly, but worthy of a one-time ride.

Legend of This Fall: The Bruery Autumn Maple

Sampled: Oct. 23, 2010

The Bruery strikes again with an autumn ale bursting with ingenuity. Topping off a Belgian brown ale with a concoction of spice, molasses, maple syrup and yams (read that last one again), the Orange County brewery demonstrates the best traits of American craft beer.

Root vegetables add an unmistakable character to beer, whether beets or yams. With my novice knowledge of wine I would describe it as an earthiness, which only builds on the complexity those touches of molasses and syrup began. Autumn Maple has a tight effervescence, with the flavors emanating sassafras notes that recall small-batch root beer. The nose is a powerhouse with the yams, molasses and syrup all competing for time. The yams definitely take the lead role after a second sniff.

All those flavors dovetail into the creamy, slightly sweet finish native to Belgian brown. The mingling of all these flavors has a wine-like character. Despite all those heavy attributes and a 10 percent ABV, it's an unexpectedly light Belgian brown. It's more Chimay Red and Chimay Grand Reserve, and the array of brew-kettle additions makes for a transcendent experience. Aside from Utopias, I cannot imagine a more rewarding experience with malt beverage and maple syrup.

The Bruery touts Autumn Maple as a beer that can age five years. As tantalizing as that sounds, I couldn't imagine waiting on an original beauty like this fall brown ale. Few beers cling to the season as well as Autumn Maple.

Rye as a Fox: French Broad Dry Hopper Ale

Sampled: Oct. 6, 2010

After two beers from French Broad, I might need a trip to Asheville. If southern brewers can claim any beer as their own, it would be the rye ale (god-awful pecan beers exempted). My first year in Nashville leaned heavily on Terrapin's Rye Pale Ale. French Broad outdoes them from the beginning, its florid nose bursting with red and dark fruits like dates, but after a fresher scale than I expected. Hints of blood orange, apple lead into the golden-brown body and its rye luxury.

Don't ask me to explain the chemistry, but I believe rye serves as a better anchor for the kettles full of hops demanded by American palettes. Rye's deep textures alternately throw off flavors, starting sweet and finishing dry, where the grain really comes on strong. The head bubbles briefly, instilling a little creaminess which vanishes into the rye.

Despite its 5.9 percent ABV, Dry Hopper effectively masks its alcohol content with the dry malty finish. It reminds me of the Stone's "black" IPA, mixing new malts with stronger layers of hops. If anything, Dry Hopper serves up a delightful change from brewers that think IPA is the only avenue to complex, hoppy beer. Let's get an Asheville trip on the calendar.

So That Explains 'Special': French Broad 13 Rebels ESB

As a style, Extra Special Bitter has caused massive yawns from American hopheads. When executed properly, it delivers a sharp hop flavor all its own. This ESB from Asheville brewery French Broad hits all the marks - slightly hoppy and exquisitely bitter, 13 Rebels is prototypical craft ale, respecting its origins while boldly blazing a new path.

Highly floral and with a hint of red fruits and even licorice, the bouquet blows away most imported versions. That lactose sweetness emerges from the malt, sticking on the palette until the bitterness descends.

The best moment had yet to arrive. Buried in the bitter is a peach, nectarine and possibly plum tartness; the unexpected fruit exhibit from the hop is so surprising it's hard to catch every flavor it radiates. that little slice of fruitiness pushes onto new ground without challenging the ESB's necessities.  Chalk it up as the most original bouquet to dazzle these senses all year. 

French Broad spins a British style in its own fashion without traipsing across ESB with an explosion of hops, malt or other ingredients.

These North Carolina brewers merely give the British a run for their money, exactly the expectation we should have of 13 Rebels.  All session ale should scale such heights.