I’m sure beer nerds far and wide will scoff at my recent introduction to Russian River Brewing from Santa Rosa, deep in Sonoma County wine country. Let them scoff; this was the first opportunity, and I took it.
I have longed for their experimental brews but finally obtained a few back in September. Only by visiting Seattle could I get a sample of beers considered legendary east of the Rockies.
When the clerk at the Beer Connection pointed out they had none of Pliny the Elder or Pliny the Younger, Russian River’s infamous strong IPAs, I wasn’t worried. On their shelves I saw the simple labels of Russian River's heralded barrel-aged brews. Sold in 375 ML bottles with corks for about $10 each, they price was fair for aged beer and the presentation was perfect.
They deserved the right occasion. After a rough day with an ill cat, the time for one of my Russian River brews arrived.
Consider me Consecrated On the advice of a friend, I saved the Supplication for another day, and went with the brew more intriguing to my palette. I had long heard of Consecration, sour ale aged in Cabernet Sauvignon barrels with currants and re-fermented in a 375-mL corked bottle.
Extremely effervescent, tight columns of bubbles fly up to form an island of lace that continually regenerates. Somewhat cidery and musty (Do I detect the hint of cobwebs in the corners of the brewery cellar?), fruit quickly takes over. However, that only augments Consecration. The body burns ruby with burgundy overtones.
A husky sour, Consecration is worthy of the underused fruit and stronger than most at 10 percent ABV. Not overpoweringly sour, I believe the fruit mellows the sour tones. Currants rarely get any press outside of lambic, and the sour base and fruit additions to Consecration would qualify it as a strong lambic. Fortunately, it continues to defy easy classification. The fruit and the barrel aging bump against each other; the ale has inherited traits of both.
The pucker arrives, threatening to run away with itself, then it contracts, leaving little aftertaste but currants of traces of Cabernet. A glorious brown fruit afterglow and hint of sour remain.
Consecration dances warmly on the lips once the last sip has vanished. In Belgium or anywhere, no one brews ale quite like Consecration.
Nothing Humble About Supplication
Significantly lighter than Consecration at 7 percent ABV, Supplication is by no means a session sour, but God bless, it throws the whole style into new dimensions.
With cherries added, other fruits come along.
Supplication has a nose and initial flavor of browner fruits such as pear and date, but the main course quickly envelopes them. Plenty of strawberry, with a mousse-like touch, creeps in, giving it a facet similar to Rose Champagne. Russian River wisely adds yeast in the bottle, allowing Supplication to expand its horizons while stored in a dark place. All the flavors are sharp. They merely end exactly when they need to back off.
Not as musty as Consecration, the lace sticks around for a long while. The sour does not peel away layers of enamel, but it is potent. Definitely reminiscent of Rodenbach Grand Cru and other red sours, Supplication charts its own course. The massive wall of strawberries, cherries and cream bursts forth unlike anything so light on hops.
The cream could be one of the most sublime characters in any beer I have tasted. It is never obnoxious, always nuanced and better for its slight restraint.
The beauty of both beers lies in the finish. Without adding dry hops or anything but fruit, they produce memorable finishes that don’t overstay any welcome.
Cherries meld so well with the lactobacillus in the sour beer that neither amplifies the sour character. The cherry radiates those other fruit notes and Supplication benefits for those surprise complexities.
I can report that Russian River’s sour ales stand among the best of class. Unique and flush with character not always evident in sour, it’s the rare cult beer that exceeds the high standard set by rumor.
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