Kyle Nabilcy
The struggle against being a beer hoarder is real, folks. Fear of missing out drives a lot of bottle purchases, and it’s far too easy to get to a point where you’re bringing in more than you’re taking in, if you take my meaning. Sometimes you just have to take a long look at your fridge (or shelf, or basement), pick out a few bottles and call some friends over. Et voilà, a tasting is born.
“Tasting” is one of those words that has crept into the beer realm from the adjacent world of wine. It is a word that could easily trigger fears of haughty sipping, somber reflection and — heaven forfend — spitting. It’s the kind of word that seems destined to be ridiculed in a future Super Bowl ad.
But think about it this way. You could, ostensibly, open three 22-ounce bottles of beer and drink them over the course of a long evening and likely get quite drunk. Or you could share them with a group and just have a taste. A representative, instructional sample that will leave you with your wits and your memory by night’s end. This is the beauty of a well-curated tasting, with the added benefit of clearing out a beer backlog.
Of course, tastings don’t always have to be at home. Beer flights are basically de rigueur at any self-respecting craft beer bar these days. Think of the wooden paddle thing that looks like it came from the closest frat house, with little beer glasses all lined up on it.
Brasserie V, as one of the most credentialed beer venues in Madison, hosts semi-regular tastings, including one just held last Wednesday, June 1. They’re typically informal — sign up in advance without having to fork over the fee until you arrive; pay one price, drink short pours of a half-dozen or so beers. It’s a good value, and baked into the cover charge is the smart tutelage of in-house beer buyer Josh Ruffin, often joined by owner Matt Van Nest.
Last week’s Brasserie V tasting celebrated some new-arrival imports, loosely themed on wild or woody fermentation. There were a couple dry-hopped entries in Mikkeller’s Spontan series of lambics, one with Centennial hops and another with Citra. A sour IPA with gooseberries from collaborators Buxton and Lervig duked it out with a blueberry saison from Tö Øl for zingiest fruit addition. (The gooseberries won.)
A boozy American-style strong ale from the Netherlands tasted like a raisiny Magic Marker. Another Mikkeller beer, this one a coffee IPA, was definitely weirdest in show, followed by a mysteriously smoky oak-fermented stout from New Zealand’s 8 Wired Brewing. It was a collection of odd beers, but not a stinker in the bunch. They felt like they belonged together, and the progression and timing of the tasting were spot-on.
I’ve hosted a handful of tastings with friends, and I hope they’re half as polished as Brasserie V’s. A few times over the last four years or so, I’ve hosted a sour party, during which only sour and wild beers are poured.
Verticals are another popular form of tasting — “vertical” referring to the chronological progression of a specific beer from vintage to vintage. I’ve participated in a few of those, with beers like Goose Island’s Bourbon County Stout, Surly’s Darkness and Central Waters’ Bourbon Barrel Barleywine.
I’m also putting together an admittedly cheeky “bad beer” tasting, of beers that have unfortunately taken a wrong turn, microbiologically. Whether due to off flavors imparted by bad barrels, or a straight-up microbial infection, there are a few beers in my cellar that are no longer anywhere close to what the brewers intended. If you have on hand a similar beer but without the flaws, a comparative tasting is a great way to teach your palate what those off flavors are like. And less of the beer will be wasted if you can finagle some buddies to share in the misery.
As a librarian, I spend a lot of time around books, and I love the Dewey decimal system. I love categorizing things, organizing things, and I love using those things to instruct. The best tastings embrace those same tendencies, which is why I love tastings, too. At a restaurant or at your own kitchen table, a good beer tasting will inspire you to slow down, appreciate what you’re drinking and stop worrying about what you’re going to drink next.
