Sept. 14, 2012
I like to think that my affinity for beer is in my DNA. This
microscopic blueprint weaves a genealogy that’s dominated by two beer-loving
cultures: Irish and German. My paternal great-great grandfather, Peter Driscol,
emigrated from Ireland and headed inland to fulfill his own manifest destiny on
a plot of farmland in central Iowa. The German blood trickled down from both
sides of my family. A large chunk of it came from my father’s maternal side,
which bore the strong family name of Rinderknecht, and splashes here and there
from my mother’s mother, who claimed Pennsylvania Dutch, a mish-mash of
immigrants with descendants from southwestern Germany.
So for some reason, when the leaves start changing in the fall
and breweries roll out their seasonal favorites, my tastes always gravitate
toward the Oktoberfest labels. The beers are stronger than their summertime
relatives, but that’s where the similarities end. Each brewery has its own
interpretation of this fall brew, but all of them fall short of being true
Oktoberfest beer — mainly due to geography.
Right about now, my distant German cousins are gearing up
for the 179th Oktoberfest celebration. They will be rolling out
massive tents that hold as many as 10,000 people, stocking them with
liter-sized glasses and wheeling in kegs of Munich’s finest. The rules
surrounding the beer served at Oktoberfest are fairly strict. By definition,
only beer brewed in Munich can be served and can claim the moniker of Oktoberfest
Beer. The Oxford Companion to Beer says that even Luitpold, prince of Bavaria and a
member of the Bavarian Royal House of Wittelsbach, was denied entry of his beer
into the festival, as it was brewed just outside of town.
Ironic that the prince’s beer would be turned away, since
Oktoberfest itself has royal origins, reaching back to 1810, when Bavaria’s
King Maximilian I. Joseph arranged a festival to celebrate his son’s wedding.
He offered up free beer and food, and the event was so popular that it was recreated
in subsequent years, with the exception of stretches during wars and other
times of political unrest.
The 16-day Oktoberfest celebration has grown from its humble
two-day beginning to be the largest beer festival in the world and has spawned
a host of local imitations around the globe. Here in the Vail Valley, the
festival typically starts around Labor Day in Beaver Creek and then moves to
Vail, featuring German food and beer, dirndl costume contests, Bavarian music
and dancing, keg bowling and more. The last weekend of our local shenanigans is
Sept. 14 to 16 in Vail Village. Breckenridge also throws its Oktoberfest
shindig on those dates, and if you miss those two episodes of German
debauchery, head down to Denver either Sept. 21 to 23 or Sept. 28 to 30 for
their version of the iconic fete.
However you decide to celebrate this Bavarian tradition, be
sure to raise a glass and toast its founding fathers for their inspiration and
throwing one hell of a party. Prost!
From the Fridge: Three Barrel Bingeler Weisse
John Bricker, owner and brewer at Three Barrel Brewing Co.
in Del Norte, and John Carlson, of the Colorado Brewers Guild, happened to be
judging a homebrewing competition together recently and were inspired by the
first beer they tasted. The brew was a Berliner weisse, and it went on to win
best of show. It hatched the idea for Bricker to brew a similar beer, which he
poured at a recent brewer’s dinner at the Vail Cascade Resort, hosted by
Carlson.
As its name denotes, the Berliner weisse style originated in
Berlin as early as the 1570s, though there are varying stories of exactly how
and when it came to exist. For the Three Barrel interpretation, Bricker started
with malted barley from Colorado Malting Co. in Alamosa and added a bit of Claussenii,
a strain of brettanomyces that produces a healthy amount of acid, creating the
beer’s signature crisp, tart flavor. The name is an homage to one William
Bingel, a Colorado entrepreneur who brewed in Del Norte during the Gold Rush
years.
The team of chefs at the Cascade paired this brew with
grilled Maine lobster tail swimming in a sauce of sea urchin butter and Meyer
lemon, garnished with candied mint and ruby red trout caviar. The lemon coaxed
out the sour citrus elements of the beer, and the effervescence of the beer, in
turn, cut through the rich butter sauce and enhanced the fluffy texture of the
lobster.
As Berlin is 365 miles from Munich, Berliner weisse likely
won’t be sneaking its way into Oktoberfest this year, but it’s still a
refreshing choice to welcome fall with a hint of Deutschland.
Krista Driscoll
Hophead
No comments:
Post a Comment