Schell’s Star of the North Berliner Weisse

Hidden on the grounds of the Schell brewery are lagering cellars built in the 1890s by Otto Schell, son of the company’s founder August. Nestled in those cellars is a single cypress fermentation tank installed in 1936 by Otto’s grandson Alfred. There were of course more of these tanks at one time, but they were dismantled and removed sometime later in the brewery’s history. Only the one remains.

In 2008 current Brewmaster and 6th generation descendant of August Schell, Jace Marti, returned from brewing school and set about restoring that piece of Schell’s history. The plan was to use it for a special line of beers called the Noble Star Collection. The wooden vessel was to be inoculated with cultures of brettanomyces and lactic acid producing bacteria to craft the delicate sour beers were once an important part of German brewing tradition.

The first beer in the collection is Star of the North, brewed in the style of the nearly extinct Berliner Weisse. A mash of pilsner and wheat malt (mostly wheat) was given a double decoction and the wort was sent to the fermenter without boiling, as is traditional for the style. The driving force of Berliner Weisse is the character derived from fermentation by lactobacillus, an acid producing bacteria. It results in a tart, fruity beer that can be drunk as is, but is often enjoyed with a shot of sweet raspberry or woodruff syrup – “mit Schuß.” Hops play next to no role in the flavor of Berliner Weisse – Star of the North boasts only 4 IBU. Hops are added more for their preservative quality to keep the lactic fermentation in check.

It’s a trend now for American brewers to revive historic beer styles. Berliner Weisse is one of them. Many of these efforts aim high, but end up short of their mark. Schell’s is one of my top-5 breweries in Minnesota. They have a solid reputation for crafting traditional German ales and lagers. I was excited to see what they would do with Berliner Weisse.

Here’s my notes:

StarOfNorthStar of the North
August Schell Brewing Company, New Ulm, Minnesota
Style: Berliner Weisse
Serving Style: 750 ml bottle

Aroma: Delicate. Fronts with tart green apples and fresh lemons. Crackery wheat sits just underneath. A dash of floral makes an appearance. There is a hint of brettanomyces barnyard, but only if you look for it.

Appearance: Pale yellow. Very hazy, but not quite cloudy. Has a white cast like a Beligan witbier. The moderate stand of fluffy, white foam dissipated fairly quickly, falling to a gauze on the surface. Effervescent bubbles.

Flavor: Bright and tart with high acidity; cider-like. Green apples and lemons lead, like the aroma. Acidity is the primary flavor driver, but cracker-like wheat survives to provide a comfy cushion. A bit of brettanomyces leather and barnyard brings earthy tones to this beer that is otherwise all about sunshine. Hops never make an appearance. The finish is quick and dry with some lingering tartness.

Mouthfeel: Light body. Effervescent carbonation.

Overall Impression: Delightful and refreshing. Despite its lightness there are layers of flavor, particularly as the brettanomyces yeast adds earthy depth. At 3.5% alcohol, Star of the North is a light and satisfying, summer patio sipper. It’s beautiful as it is, but it would be great with a “Schuß” of raspberry syrup.

Insight Brewing Company: Bringing the World of Beer to the Twin Cities

I first became aware of Ilan Klages-Mundt back in 2010 when I was a featured writer at the Hoppress on Ratebeer.com. He had joined the Hoppress team at the start of a year-long adventure traveling the globe to intern at some of the world’s great breweries. Along the way he penned several posts detailing his exploits. I recall experiencing a tinge of envy as I read about his work with Fuller’s, Kiuchi (Hitachino Nest), Mikkeller, and others. I mean, how great a gig was that?

Ilan’s posts stopped in February 2011. His journey of passion passed from my mind. But then I got score sheets back from a beer I had entered in a local homebrew competition. Ilan had judged my beer. I remember thinking, “What’s he doing here?”

Turns out Ilan is a native Minnesotan, hailing originally from Winona. After his world tour he returned to his home state and settled in the Twin Cities. And of course the answer to what he’s doing here is building a brewery.

Insight Brewing Company is currently in the process of securing startup funds and hopes to open in the first quarter of 2014. They’re looking at locations in Northeast Minneapolis, but won’t yet reveal exactly where. The name Insight is inspired by Ilan’s journeys. Working with some of the world’s greatest brewers, he gained deep insights into brewing process, the beer industry, and world beer cultures. With Insight Brewing he wants share what he learned with beer drinkers here at home.

Ilan’s craft-beer adventure began in 2007 when he was a music student at Lawrence University’s Conservatory of Music in Appleton, Wisconsin. A sample of Sand Creek Oscar’s Stout opened his eyes to the flavor potential of beer. He began tasting anything he could get his hands on. Armed with the Ratebeer Top 100 Beers list, he travelled to Denmark, eager to get his hands on some of the Danish beers he had read about. The store that he chose didn’t have any of the beers on the list, but it did have Westvleteren 12. That for Ilan was an epiphany. Upon tasting that beer he knew he wanted to become a brewer.

When he returned to the states he began a period of intensive homebrewing and self-study. His passion was noticed by a professor who encouraged him to apply for a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship offered by IBM. The expressed purpose of the fellowship was to allow students to pursue a passion that was not related to their major. Full of optimism, he applied and contacted brewers around the world, asking simply if he could come and be an intern. Many said yes. But then he didn’t get the fellowship.

Undeterred, he approached brewers again asking if in exchange for his free labor they would provide a place for him to stay and some meals. Again, many accepted. With $3500 in his pocket and the possibility of a little under-the-table work here and there, he set off for England.

His first stop was picking hops in West Kent, England. That was followed by time at the Fuller’s Brewery in London. From there he set off for Japan to work at the Kiuchi Brewery, makers of the Hitachino Nest beers. He worked at the Fanø Bryghus in Denmark doing contract brewing for the likes of Mikkeller. He was hired as head brewer at the Søgaards Bryghus brewpub in Aalborg, Denmark. He ended the experience with a bike and brewery tour of France and Belgium.

Ilan Klages-Mundt at the Fanø Bryghus in Denmark

Ilan says that the hardest brewery to work at was Kiuchi, starting with them forgetting to pick him up at the airport. When his ride did arrive it took him straight to the brewery where he began what would be a stint of 90 to 100-hour work weeks. The Japanese are known for their work ethic. They are also known for their respect of hierarchy. This meant that you started at the bottom regardless of prior experience. Ilan spent a lot of time doing basic brewery grunt work. It was difficult, but good experience for what’s to come.

Ilan says that the most important thing he learned while overseas was to keep it simple. “Homebrewers often throw too many things in and get a muddled flavor.” he says.  “Instead, let natural complexity come out by using only two or three malts.”

His other big lessons were about beer culture. “Beer around the world is so much more accepted than in the majority of the states. We’re growing quickly here, to where it’s becoming much nicer. But still in England, and London especially, everyone is drinking a beer with their lunch or a glass of wine. Here not too many people do that. Some do, but not too many. I think that culturally beer has a long way to go in the states. It is getting there. I mean we’re still at volume-wise 6.3% or something. It’s tiny. In England cask beer is in the 30s. So just a huge difference.”

Insight’s beers will be globally inspired; not just Belgian and not just English or German. They are rooted in classic styles, but some tweaks on those styles will be part of the lineup. I had the opportunity to sample nine brews during my visit. They ran the gamut from a 2.8% alcohol “Piccolo” IPA to a 26% barrel-aged, ice-distilled barleywine. All of the beers were quite tasty. I particularly noted the solid fermentation character. A high degree of attenuation left every beer crisp and refreshing.

Here’s a rundown of my favorites:

Lamb & Flag Premium Bitter – This is a classic English bitter that is named after Ilan’s favorite pub in Oxford. He had access to all of Fuller’s recipes, so this one is loosely based on London Pride. It smells awesome; neither malty nor hoppy, but balanced somewhere in between. A tinge of bitterness at the top is followed by toffee and biscuit malt. Bitterness returns at the end and hangs on into finish. Subtle orange-marmalade hop/yeast flavors fill in the background.

Piccolo IPA – The name is a nod to Ilan’s music background. The piccolo is one of the smallest instruments in the orchestra, yet also one of the loudest. This 2.8% IPA drinks more like 4%. It presents a delicate, citrus hop aroma. Bitterness is firm, but doesn’t blow you away, meaning you can drink a few without wrecking your palate. Citrusy lime, tangerine, and grapefruit hop flavors dominate with subtle grainy/biscuit malt to keep it balanced. It’s a great summer quaff.

Saison de Blanc – This celebratory saison is brewed with Sauvignon Blanc grapes giving it a vinous and almost grape-skin tannic quality. It’s fizzy and light like champagne, but never crosses a line to where it stops being beer. Floral and honey notes peek around the corners. I loved this beer as it is, but suggested that a version fermented with brettanomyces would be great.

The Yuzu – This was by far the most “interesting” beer in the lineup. It’s an American pale ale brewed with yuzu, a Japanese citrus fruit. This one is a bit sweeter than the other beers and intensely citrusy with a mix of mandarin orange and grapefruit. The yuzu fruit provides a fruity flavor that is difficult to describe. Reaching for descriptors I came up with phenolic, but that isn’t really quite right. It is most unique and quite delicious. The Yuzu will be an Insight taproom exclusive.

Eric Salazar: New Belgium’s Maestro of Sour

Eric Salazar of New Belgium Brewing Company

I first toured New Belgium Brewing Company in 2002 or 2003. At the time it still consisted only of what they now call Brewhouse #1. It was a small concern on the cusp of becoming the national brewery that it is now. When I drove past the brewery last year during GABF I was stunned by the size of the place. The small building that was once the entire brewery is now surrounded by what seem like acres of warehouse and cellaring structures. It’s huge.

That first visit was also my introduction New Belgium’s line of sour beers. It was probably my introduction to sour beers period. At the end of the tour we were given the choice between a sampler paddle of the six mainline beers or three funky beers; Frambozen, Transatlantique Kriek, and La Folie. I chose the latter. How could I not? The tour guide had mentioned something about “old cheese” as we overlooked the foudre.

Tasting through the flight, I was blown away. I wasn’t sure what to think. My palate was hit with an assortment of flavors that I had never experienced in beer. These beers were tart, earthy, and fruity. And yes, there was old cheese. I picked up a bottle of La Folie at the brewery and a six pack of Frambozen at the grocery store on the way out of town.

The brains and tongues behind these zesty beers are the two-person team of Eric and Lauren Salazar. Eric mans the cellars and Lauren is the blender-in-chief. I had the opportunity share a sour beer (or three) with Eric at the Happy Gnome during a recent visit to the Twin Cities. What follows is the full transcript of our half-hour interview.

A meeting of minds…or something.

During the interview we make reference to “Felix” and “Oscar.” It might be helpful to know who these characters are. The entire line of New Belgium sour beers is built on two base beers. Felix is a light beer. Oscar is a dark beer, basically 1554 with a touch less roast. Both are fermented with lager yeast before going into the foudres for acidification by the house culture of bacteria.

I first met you at the GABF in 2007 when you had presumably made Eric’s Ale for the first time.

No, we had a few batches before that that we released in kegs. That was the first bottled batch.

You were pimping it hard at the booth.

I bet I was. Sounds like me.

To start with, give me your path. You started at New Belgium in…

I started at New Belgium in 1995. I was an art student at the time in Fort Collins. I got a job at the brewery through some friends. Now of course, at 22 years old what’s a better job to have than at a brewery, especially New Belgium Brewing Company? New Belgium in those days, and it still is, was very nurturing. They’ll take anybody who wants to really make their own path. Whatever direction you want to go in you’ll be allowed to do it, but you’ll also be given all the tools to do it. So I’m a classic example of that. I started out in packaging. I was making what I considered not a lot of money, but enough money for a 22 year old guy in college. And I was working a lot of hours. I mean we worked long-hour days. We worked very hard, you know. Packaging. Hot conditions. The little train station we were in in those days, it wasn’t temperature controlled. There weren’t a whole lot of creature comforts. But we loved it. We loved what we were doing. We loved the beer that we were producing. We loved the company that we worked for. I think I was employee number 20 at that time. We’re up to 500 employees now. So, you know, I recognized the opportunity and recognized that New Belgium was a company that was going somewhere. I knew I was going to be a part of it. Not only that, I was doing something that I loved and something that was new to me. I did a lot of research. I did a lot of study. I asked a lot of questions. I made my way through the company. Within a year I was in the cellar, cold side brewing. And then within four years of that I was in the brewhouse. So I did that for a bunch of years. I was a brewer for a bunch of years. Peter Bouckaert (New Belgium’s Brewmaster) had come to the brewery in 1996, just one year after I started.  He immediately was like, “Okay, let’s start a sour program.” Of course that’s what I was interested in. Everybody at New Belgium loved sours. We loved that Belgian tradition of lambic beers. We loved the flavor profile of anything Belgian in those days, but we didn’t know how to make sour beers. It was something that traditional brewers have known for generations in Belgium, but you have to be…

It was kind of this esoteric thing here.

Yeah, in those days it was really kind of weird for us to even be doing Belgian-type beers or Belgian-style beers. So I made sure that I was next to Peter Bouckaert as much as I could be as we were developing this sour beer program and wood beer program. I would do anything, no matter how menial, to be a part of that. And even still to this day it’s still a matter of just doing the work. It’s still a matter of hauling around hoses. It’s a matter of setting everything up right. It’s a matter of knowing how much of each barrel goes into the blend. It’s still the same job that it was. And I think that’s what I like about my job nowadays is that I’m still doing the job in the manner that I learned how to be a brewer and a cellar person.

So you are now mostly in the cellar?

I am mostly in the wood cellar. I care for the foudres. I care for the beer in the foudres. Tasting, blending. Lauren Salazar, our main blender, our sensory specialist, I work closely with her. We work together to do these beers.

What got you interested in sour beers to begin with? Particularly since back in the day that would have been this weird, unheard-of thing.

New Belgium has always tried to bring everything they could to their employees. I mean we’re kind of one big family. We drink beer together. We travel together. We go to Belgium. New Belgium has a program where if you work there five years you get to go to Belgium and tour from bar to bar and brewery to brewery. You get a handle on the beer culture of Belgium. That’s essentially what we’re all about, you know. When [New Belgium founder] Jeff [Lebesch] went to Belgium the first time and came back with this idea of making this brewery, it was the culture he fell in love with. It was the essence of that brewing culture in Belgium that started New Belgium Brewing Company. So this is something that’s been a really important part of our culture since day one. So, you know, having been a part of that, having been with New Belgium from the early days, always trying new stuff and always drinking beers that we didn’t necessarily know how to make or even plan on making, that’s how I learned about sour beers. That’s what brought me to it. And when Peter started there I just made sure that I was part of it as much as I could.

How huge was that to get Peter Bouckaert, the Brewmaster of Rodenbach?

It was big. Yeah. It was big. I don’t know how the specifics of that worked, but it was really a big deal to us at New Belgium. We were blown away. And he was excited I think. From his standpoint, he was doing something new. There was no precedent for a brewery basically swallowing up the Belgian traditions and becoming that. And I think the fact that he came to us, came from Belgium and moved his whole life here, says a lot about what we were doing in those days. He was impressed with it, you know. And he wanted to take it further. He probably saw it as chance at a new thing, something that was going on. And I don’t think he was very popular for it at the time, to put it bluntly. He wasn’t very popular in Belgium for it at the time. Of course he’s Peter Bouckaert and he’s a very charismatic figure and he has lots of friends there, so I think eventually they started to realize – the Belgian brewers – that we’re bringing their culture and their beers. We’re not just copying them. We’re emulating them, yes, but we were also part of a revolution that brought the knowledge of those beers to the United States. Before that I don’t think there was much going on as far as the general public and their knowledge of Belgian beers. And so we tried to bring that to the general public. And of course we brought to it our own love and what we liked in beer. We weren’t necessarily trying to bring it to the people more than we were just trying to have good beer ourselves, you know. There were a lot of brewers here and a lot of people trying to do something different and that was our niche. And I think we did it well. We did it better after Peter Bouckaert came, for sure.

Eric chats with Kristen England of Pour Decisions Brewing Company

So let me ask you some specific questions about your sour program that you oversee.

Yeah, I’m part of it. Lauren Salazar and myself are the team that takes care of the entire cellar. I do a lot of the physical stuff. I do tasting with Lauren. She of course is the sensory person that runs the blending. I do all of the physical blending and care of the barrels. We’re a two-part team.

So one of the things that is interesting to me is that there are basically just two beers that form the basis for all of the sour program; Oscar and Felix. Why just two beers?

In the early days we tried many things. We had a lot of experiments going on. We would put fruit in beer. We would make different types of beer.  And we would age it in these barrels, but what we would come out with was this basic sour profile. So the conclusion we came to, and this is the type of thing that comes with trial and error, was that why put so many resources, why put so much time and thought into something that’s going to come down to just being a sour beer. Find the basics. Focus on those basics, and then use those basics as components in sour beers later on. So the way that developed with La Folie was that we had barrels that were developing well. They weren’t necessarily the barrels that we designed, but they just kind of came into being because of the bacteria. We blended those barrels together and then we tasted those barrels. Then we blended those barrels together. Then we blended those barrels together into large foudres and we just came up with this one beer. What we found was rather than trying to design the beer from the get-go and then sour it, you might as well take that beer and then blend it later. It really is a much easier process. It’s also a much more detailed process in terms of flavor profiling. Let’s use Tart Lychee as an example. So that is a beer that’s almost 50% strong golden. It has lychee juice, and then it has the sour portion, the Felix, added into it. Now if you think about yourself as a scientist in a lab and you’re mixing things, you know, and you’re using a little bit of this and a little bit of that and a little bit of something else, you can taste it right there. Rather than having to wait all that time to let the thing develop, you have all the components, you mix them right there, and then you taste them. So we found that only having two basics you can do that in the end. It’s much easier.

What struck me when thinking about that is that it’s really about the fermentation.

It’s about the aging process. It’s about the acidification of that beer. Yeah, exactly. So we can control that aging process and we can control that acidification without having to worry about whatever components are going to go into that beer in the future. And really that’s another part of this. We have this sour beer. It takes two years to age and develop. We don’t know what we’re going to develop two years from now. You know? Lauren comes up with lychee juice. Let’s put that in a beer. So we have already soured beer. We try it out. It worked out well. Who knows what’s going to happen in the future. Eric’s Ale worked out the same way with peach. The Le Terroir, which is the dry-hopped Felix, really you couldn’t have done that without knowing what the sour beer tasted like first, without knowing what you had to begin with. Then you dry hop it and you say, “Hey, that’s pretty good.” You know. When Lauren developed that beer, Le Terroir, I was kind of like, “I don’t know. That’s kind of weird. You want to dry hop a sour beer?” I was like, “I’ll do it. I’ll do it. No problem.” And so I did it and I had to eat my words. It was great. It actually was a really awesome beer. It’s an awesome beer. And I was like, “Okay, you’re right. You’re right.” She thought about it and she had it in her mind, but we really couldn’t have tested it out and tried it and proved it without having that sour beer already worked out, already processed and alive and running.

You reuse yeast. You have your own blend – it’s a multi-strain blend. Talk about how that came about.

It’s mostly really a bacterial soup, for lack of a better way of putting it. We have a lot of terms in this type of product that don’t sound real appealing, but you kind of say to yourself, “but in a good way.” So bacterial soup is the term I’ll use. It’s lactobacillus. Maybe a little bit of pediococcus. And probably some brettanomyces and wild yeasts in there, but for the most part it’s lactobacillus. Now in the early days what we did is – and this was Peter Bouckaert’s design – we blended those small barrels, only a few, and we put whatever we wanted into them. We put our cherry beer. We put some lactobacillus in some. We would put different types of yeast and we would just let those barrels develop. And we had a meeting on Thursdays where we would taste beers from Belgium and we would taste the barrels. And in the early days, I’ll be frank, for a long time they sucked. They would kind of start to develop and then they would go south. We learned a lot about the “sick phase” of barrels. In order to get to heaven you’ve got to go through hell, I guess the saying goes. So as these beers developed we would taste them and then we would also taste the beers we were going for; Liefmans, Rodenbach, and any lambics. We would discuss those beers and we would discuss what we had. Well, when the beers started to get better – the barrels that would get better were obvious and the ones that weren’t working out so well were obvious as well – we would get rid of those barrels [that weren’t getting better] and then we blended the barrels that were good and we’d let those age for a little while. Then we’d have the same discussions, the same parallel discussions with the traditional Belgian beers and what we were coming up with. And we’d have open conversations about what we were looking for. What we were looking for developed over time. It wasn’t necessarily like we were going for one thing from the get-go. But as we were doing this and as we figured out what we had and what we were capable of doing, that idea came about. Then we purchased some large-scale foudres. I think our first four were the 60-hectoliter fouders that we have. We still have those foudres, one of which is foudre 1 that we call “Sure Thing.” It has been a part of every single La Folie blend since we bought it. We bought that one in 1999 I believe. 1999 or 2000. That one barrel has been a part of every single La Folie, so it’s steeped deep with the flavor profiles and bacteria that we want. So same situation [with the foudres]. We’d blend those barrels together and as those barrels developed, we would develop what we wanted. And even still to this day, since 1998 when we put out the first one until now, sixteen years, I mean it’s still developing. It’s still a process. It still is about Lauren and I sitting down and sipping all the barrels, talking about it, talking about what we think about each barrel specifically. And each barrel can have its own personality. There are a lot of factors there. What time period of its development is it in? Where is the barrel sitting in the room? Is it in front of a window? Is it near the other door? How big is it? The smaller the barrel the larger the ratio of liquid to wood there is. A lot of little factors there. It’s all about us sitting down and tasting it. We’re still doing the same thing to this day as we always have done before.

So as you’re tasting each one of these barrels does that flavor that comes out of each one, that particular acidification profile, determine what you end up doing with that beer?  Whether it ends up in a blend of La Folie or goes into one of the Love releases? Whether you add lychee to it or something else?

So I’ll break that question down into a few different parts. Love is specifically a single barrel that we decide the moment that we taste it that it’s good enough to be Love. Now if that doesn’t happen, and it will [happen] because we have a lot of good barrels in there, but if that doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen. If we didn’t have a Love barrel, we don’t mind. That’s fine. Love is really something that we’ll put out a little at a time. With the Peach Love that we are drinking today, that’s a barrel that we decided was good enough and then we put it into a peach whiskey barrel. We recently, this past year, April of 2012, we purchased and installed seven 225-hectoliter barrels. Now we knew full well that we had to inoculate those barrels. The best beer to inoculate those barrels with, of course, is the best beer that we have. Right? So we kind of let it be known that this year’s production of sour beer was going to be diminished a little bit because we knew that we were going to take this best beer. So there’s the decision right there. This beer is really good. Of course we want it to be part of this blend, but we also want it to carry us into the future with these new barrels. So last year that was a pretty heavy-duty decision. It was like okay, we need to produce this much La Folie. We want to have as much Felix for whatever, Tart Lychee or Kick or whatever we’re producing. We want to have as much of that as possible. But we also want to make sure that we’re taking care of these new barrels and that we have something for the future, especially when we’re expanding on this program. So within a year we already have sour beer being produced in these large barrels that have never before been used for sour beer or beer at all. They were wine barrels before that. They’re 30 years old. And they’re working out. So we know that we made the right decision by giving up some of our best beer to inoculate those new barrels. We still were able to produce a fair amount of La Folie. But now we know that we’ll see more in the future because those barrels are working out. We expanded our capacity, you know. All the right decisions were made.

What are you looking for in the blend?

Well, La Folie. We know as we’re tasting them that we have a lot of barrels to choose from, so we know that we can build it as a profile. If we have something that’s really tart, maybe kind of a citric tart, something that’s really sharp, maybe not very complex but still has a nice tartness to it, then we can balance it out with something that’s maybe a little bit younger or maybe something that hasn’t quite developed the…I hate to put it like that…but hasn’t quite gone as far in its sourness and its acidification process as this other one. We can rely on the two beers to balance each other. So we’ll get something that’s maybe a little bit sweeter, a little more malty and pair it up with this very sharp, very pointed sour beer. But then other flavor components can be cherry pit, even along the same lines as a plum skin. These are things that we like to discuss. So we’re looking for balance. We’re looking for these different flavor components that will play off of each other and balance each other out without being too overpowering. Now a lot of people would say that when they taste La Folie it’s going to be really sour, but what goes into that is a lot more than just sour. You could just make it sour and it would all be one sided. You won’t have that balance and I don’t think it will be as popular a beer. So maybe it is sour, but there are a lot more subtle nuances going on there then you would think about if you just tasted sour beer. With something that’s going into a blend, you have to consider the fruit. If it’s a fruit you have to consider the other bit that you’re blending it with. Kick is an example. Kim and Dick, Kim Jordan and Dick Cantwell, that was their baby. That was the thing that they blended, that they put together. They wanted a pumpkin beer, but they wanted a sour beer. It took them a few iterations to get that right. But they did it just like that. They took a little bit of this beer and a little bit of that beer and they blended it together until they felt like they had the right flavor profile. That’s nothing you can do on paper. You can’t just make that up as you go along. There’s no numbers that take care of that. You have to taste it. It has to be a physical process. It has to be on the spot. It depends on what you’re looking for with that, with the blending of non-sour beers with sour beers. Every beer is different.

So beer nerds love to age beer. I’m going to tell you my first experience with my first bottle of La Folie. I didn’t intentionally age it, but it sat in my basement for a while. And by the time I opened it, it was straight-up vinegar. One thing that really made me happy though was that the next time I visited the brewery I told them that story and they gave me a sixpack of 1554. But the first thing the guy asked me was, “Did you try and age that?” So just for the sake of people who get a sour beer and feel they want to age it, talk a little bit about that.

Well, I feel like sour beers in general…I mean on a basic level the pH is low enough that they can be considered bomb-proof at certain points. That being said, you know, the beer is already two years old. It’s already been aged. We’ve already tasted that two-year-old beer and specifically decided on that blend. So really, you know, the beer is ready to go when it’s ready to go. Aging is up to you. It’s interesting to age beer and then taste it across the board and do a flight. Go from 2002 to say 2012. Can we do that? Does anybody keep their beers that long? I think they do. Some people do. I don’t know how they do it, because I always end up coming home at 2 am with a bunch of friends and drinking that beer. But there’s also how you keep it, you know. The temperature has to be right. With those cork and cage bottles, if they’re sitting upright they have a tendency to dry out. That cork can dry out. You can get a lot of oxygen through there, even if you don’t recognize it when you open it. It still may be a little pressurized, but it can go through ebbs and flows of drying depending on the season and what not. So it’s tough because you don’t know where people are keeping their bottles. And it’s hard to say whether you should age that, because what’s your storage area like? Is it your garage? Is it 100 degrees out there? Is it your basement? Is it humidity controlled? So I like to say “drink that beer.” When you get it, just drink it. It’s already two years old. We aged it. We blended it. If you want to do that though, treat it right. Lay it on its side. Take care of the cork. Keep that temperature even and low.

When you’re tasting sour beers – and again this is going to differ from style to style – but if you could kind of generalize, what is it when you taste a sour beer that makes you say, “This is a great beer.”

Balance. Yeah, balance. I like to have many components and not just one. If it’s too far to one side then it’s no fun. It has to have many flavor components and it has to have balance in those flavor components. If you’re going for something one way or the other then fine, you can flavor it that way. But if is takes over and it tends not to let anything else through, then that’s no fun. You know, you have to have that balance. I think that’s true even if it is a sour beer. And people generally, depending on their threshold of sour, might be like, “Wow, that’s kicking my ass right now.” But if they taste further they’ll find that we’ve taken the time to balance that out. We’ve done this or that. We’ve thought about what that beer is going to be. We’ve thought about what we want this beer to be. Now with Eric’s Ale that was a big deal. I was looking for that peach to come out, but I didn’t want a peach flavor. I wanted peach to be the aroma. And I wanted when you put that beer up to your mouth that you more sense it on your nose than you sense it on your tongue. It was still part of the profile, but it was a component that wasn’t necessarily obvious right away. It was about balance.

What are the components you’re trying to balance?

In? Name a beer.

La Folie. A lot of people know that beer so let’s do that.

With La Folie, like I said, we’re looking for sour. We’re looking for something that’s going to offset that sour; a little maltiness. We found that in these barrels and with Oscar aging that we always get a little cherry component. It’s weird because there’s no cherries added anywhere in the process. There’s always this cherry component. And if it’s a tart cherry, a cola component is never a bad thing. I mean there are just these little details that I don’t expect anybody to actually sense or even focus on, or even say the words “cherry pit” or “plum skin,” but I still want it to be there. I still want it to be a part of the flavor profile. Again balance. It may be one of the most sour beers in the United States, but I challenge anybody tasting it to be, “Oh. What is this little tiny thing? What is this sweetness? There’s an acidic portion of this, but then there’s a fruit sugar I can’t quite put my finger on.” And that’s fun. Right? That’s interesting. That keeps it interesting for all of us.

I gave La Folie to a wine sommelier that I work with frequently and she drank it the whole rest of the night.

That’s great. That’s an ultra-compliment. That’s really cool. Right on.

So, you started out as an art student. I’m curious, because my background is in the arts, what was your medium?

I’m a painter.

Do you still do it?

Oh yes. Very much so. I love water color. I love mixing colors. I love it when there are almost so many colors that you can’t really see them all unless you look closely. So I’m lucky enough to have a job where I’m not necessarily doing that exact thing, but I still am doing that thing in a sort of a way. I’m blending these beers just like I would be blending colors.

You just led into my question. How do the arts play into making beer?

Just like that. I’m still allowed to be that artist that I always wanted to be. I didn’t necessarily know when I was younger that brewing would be my calling, but there it is. It plays perfectly with what I’ve always done my whole life, and that’s being a painter and being an artist.

 

Draftmark Home Draft System

Father’s Day is just two days away and you don’t have a gift yet. To be honest, you haven’t even really thought about it. As you contemplate an appropriate present for dear old dad you hear a sucking sound and feel a light puff of air as all thought evacuates your brain. (Admittedly it’s mostly air in there anyway.) As you step through the front doors of Wal-Mart you become paralyzed; a deer caught in the headlights. You find yourself in some kind of Twilight Zone moment. You’re stationary in another dimension as the rest of the world buzzes around you in slow motion. The retiree greeter waves his welcome as though he were immersed in syrup. His “welcome to Wal-Mart” sounds like a 45 rpm record playing at 33. You hear an echoey rattle as a dude with a mullet and cut off T-shirt pushes a cart by on the left.

This is a good time for a beer. WAIT! Dad likes beer! There it is. The solution was right in front of you all along. You can do this.

If this is your situation, you might consider a home draft system. No, I don’t mean shelling out $600+ for a kegerator and keg, though that would be nice. I’m talking about one of those fit-in-the-fridge thingies. All the big brewers have got them. MillerCoors and Heineken rolled out first, but AB-InBev wasn’t far behind. Their Draftmark system was introduced in early 2012, but has only recently become available in the Twin Cities. I had the opportunity to give one of these devices a spin. It delivers exactly what it promises; draft beer in your refrigerator.

The premise of the thing is simple, though a wee bit mysterious. Beer comes in a one-gallon canister that looks a lot like a soda bottle. The canister is inserted into the machine and beer is poured from a tap faucet on the front. There is no CO2 cartridge. A battery operated compressor pushes the beer from the canister with air, but through some proprietary bottle-in-bottle technology the air never touches the beer. I haven’t figured out how this works, but I also haven’t tried very hard. The manufacturer claims that beer will stay fresh for up to 30 days.

What are the pros of the Draftmark system?

  • It’s inexpensive. $50 buys the machine and refill cartridges are $14-$16. That works out to about $1.50/12-ounce beer, slightly less than buying a sixpack.
  • Each refill cartridge comes with its own spout, so there is no need to worry about cleaning draft lines.
  • It’s easy to assemble and operate. Charge and insert the battery. Insert the spout. Place the bottle and twist. Pour beer.
  • It’s compact; about the size of a “fridge pack” of soda or a loaf of Wonder Bread.
  • It’s nice to have draft beer in the fridge.

The biggest downside is beer selection. It’s an AB-InBev product. You can only get AB-InBev products,  and precious few of those at present; Budweiser, Michelob Amber Bock, and Shock Top, along with a couple of better choices, Bass Ale and Goose Island Honkers Ale and IPA. Seeing as AB-InBev owns the world, there are other brands in their portfolio that would make for a more interesting assortment. They promise a wider selection in the future. Check here for a list of locations where refills can be purchased.

One note on use. Being a man, I didn’t read the manual until after using the thing. I became concerned when my first and second attempts poured pints of nothing but foam. The manual though says that this is normal, as the device has to charge.

The upshot: Would I rush out and buy one of these for myself? No. It’s kind of gimmicky. The beer selection is too limited and it just seems easier to get bottles or cans. But I have a gadget-loving, non-craft-beer-drinking brother-in-law for whom the system would be perfect.

 

Steel Toe Brewing Size 11 Double IPA

Size 7 IPA from Steel Toe Brewing is I think my favorite Minnesota-made IPA. Having honed his skills in the Pacific Northwest, brewer Jason Schoneman likes IPAs that favor hop flavor and aroma over palate peeling bitterness. That’s my kind of IPA. I love the juicy fruits and pine sap. I’m not so crazy about the bitter.

I’m also not crazy about double IPAs. They tend to be overly bitter or overly syrupy for my taste; a lot of hops an little else or under-attenuated and sticky. There are a few that I enjoy; Avery Maharaja and Pliny the Elder come to mind. But even those I’m pretty much done with after one glass.

Given how much I like Size 7 though, I was intrigued by the prospect of a Steel Toe double IPA. I figured if I were going to like anyone’s version it would be Jason’s. I somehow missed last year’s release of Size 11. This year I made sure to pick up a bottle before it disappeared.

Here’s my notes:

Size 11
Steel Toe Brewing Company, St. Louis Park, Minnesota
Style: Double IPA
Serving Style: 22 oz. bottle

Aroma: A basket of juicy fruits. In fact it reminds me a bit of Juicy Fruit gum. Kiwi, tangerines, and tropical fruits like mango. Underneath is a light, grainy maltiness, with subtle tones of biscuit and toast that get stronger as is warms.

Appearance: Medium amber to copper and very clear. A towering cap of creamy, ivory foam that lasts all the way to the bottom of the glass.

Flavor: Hops are king and bitterness is high, but it’s not insane. There is enough malt there to maintain balance. It’s malty but not sweet.  Caramel notes combine with the biscuit and toast that carry over from the aroma. Toast gets stronger as it warms. It’s just a guess, but I’d say that there is a good bit of Munich or some such malt in there. It dries out in the end, leaving it refreshing. Now let’s get back to those hops. The bitterness has a sharp, mineral quality and leaves a cooling sensation on the back of my throat. Those fruits from the aroma come back in the flavor. It’s that same juicy fruit gum thing, but this time with some herbs added. Mint? Bitterness lingers, but it isn’t astringent. Hop flavors hang around with it. Dry finish to keep it light.

Mouthfeel: Medium body. Medium carbonation.

Overall Impression: I’m the oddball who first considers the malt in an IPA. I know the hops will be there. I want to know what else is going on. Jason didn’t neglect the malt. It isn’t just there to keep the hops company. It adds interest of its own and is a nearly equal partner to the hops in the overall experience of the beer. It’s nicely layered and complex. The hops dominate but don’t overwhelm. This might be my new favorite DIPA. I’m sorry I only bought one bottle.

Sam Adams Redesigns the Beer Can

A guest at a recent private beer-tasting event sent me into a rant. We were discussing the relative value of cans when he suggested that the reason some people might taste a metallic flavor in canned beer is that they are putting their mouth all over the top of the can. At that moment I was seized by the spirit of Ninkasi. “At least 85% of what you taste is actually what you smell.” I said. “If you drink from the can or bottle you smell nothing. You are cutting yourself off from the majority of the experience of the beer.” I ended with the admonition, “I don’t care what kind of glass you drink from. Just drink from a glass.”

Now the Boston Beer Company is telling people to drink Sam Adams Boston Lager from the can.

Well, not really. They still want you to drink it from a glass, but they acknowledge that sometimes that’s impossible. Maybe you’re hiking or canoeing far into the backcountry where glass is not allowed. Cans have long been touted as a solution to such situations. So should you just accept that you will only get 15% enjoyment out of that backcountry quaff? Ever the innovator in beer-service technology, Boston Beer says, “No.”

Following up on the Sam Adams Perfect Pint glass and the Spiegelau IPA glass, they have revolutionized the beer can. Called the “Sam Can,” the new package is the result of two years of “intensive sensory research.” It features a wider lid to allow more airflow into your mouth, a more centered can opening to bring the beer closer to your nose, and an extended lip to deliver the beer to the tip of your tongue.

I was skeptical. Really? These little changes were going to make a big difference? The Sam Adams press release did a good job of adding to that skepticism. Like the media reporting on the underdog in a presidential debate – “he just has to avoid looking like a complete idiot” – the materials stressed that the difference was “subtle, but noticeable.”  The bar was set low. Maybe they had learned a lesson from the over-hype of the IPA glass.

I was skeptical, but curious. So when the media package arrived at my door containing one regular can and one Sam Can, I had to give it a whirl. I opened both at the same time for a side-by-side face-off. Just for comparison I poured a bit from each can into a glass.

Of course the beer in the glass tasted the best. Really, drink your beer from a glass! But to my surprise, the Sam Can delivered on its promise, and then some. The improvement in flavor was more than “subtle, but noticeable.” I found there to be a significant difference in all three areas of sensory evaluation; aroma, flavor, and mouthfeel.

Aroma: In this area I won’t say that the difference was huge, but it was there. Aroma was non-existent when drinking from the regular can. While the Sam Can didn’t deliver the aromatic blast of drinking from a glass, hops and malt were noticeable.

Mouthfeel: The regular can delivered a beer that was unpleasantly prickly. Carbonation felt excessive, lightening the impression of the beer’s body. The Sam Can smoothed out the bubbles. The impression was more like that of a beer that has been poured into a glass and allowed to degas. Boston Lager isn’t a full-bodied beer by any stretch, but the reduced carbonation allowed the viscosity that is there to come through.

Flavor: The beer from the regular can was bland and sharply bitter. Spicy hops almost totally obliterated the malt, leaving only the faintest impression of caramel. The excessive carbonation mentioned above gave it a distinct carbonic bite that amplified the already harsh bitterness. From the Sam Can the beer was much more balanced. Bitterness was there, but kept in check by noticeable malt sweetness. Spicy hop flavors made their appearance, but malty caramel provided a welcome counterpoint. It was a much more pleasurable quaff. The cynical thought crossed my mind that they had perhaps put a different beer in each can, but poured into a glass the two were indistinguishable.

I went in a non-believer. I came out convinced. The Sam Can may not be an earth-shaking development, but the difference is real. Still, drink your beer from a glass.

Stone Enjoy By 5.17.13 IPA

“ENJOY BY 5. 17. 13!” The bottle in my fridge had been relentlessly nagging me for three weeks. The big black and white letters on the green label glared at me from the shelf. I was away when it arrived on my doorstep, but it even from afar it scolded me for my neglect, imprinting guilt upon my mind – nee my soul – that I was allowing it to fade with each passing day. And now the dreaded deadline had arrived. I had let it go until the last minute. It was 5. 17. 13.

I pried the cap off of the bottle and poured its copper-colored contents into my Sam Adams/Dogfish Head IPA glass. I raised it to my nose with anticipation. Had I waited too long? Would the lupuline nectar be degraded; a mere shadow of its once bitter self? Only a taste would tell.

Here’s my notes:

Enjoy by 5. 17. 13. IPA
Stone Brewing Co, Escondido, California
Style: Imperial IPA
Serving Style: 22 oz. bottle

Aroma: Light apricots and pineapple. Hint of sugary grain. Aromatics very low overall.

Appearance: Golden color and hazy. Substantial and persistent, off-white, rocky foam. The head really hangs around.

Flavor: Bit of chives right off the bat. Brown sugar, but not sweet. Light toast. Bitterness is high, but not unbalanced. Malt sweetness is enough to counter. The bitterness hangs on in the finish though, coming back for another bite long after swallowing. Hop flavors are low, with hints of chive, herbs, mint, and  citrus peel. Some stone-fruit flavors pop in as well. Alcohol is noticeable, but not hot. Very dry. Although I have picked several things out, it’s all very subtle. Bitterness dominates.

Mouthfeel: Medium body. Medium carbonation. Mild astringency. Alcohol warmth.

Overall Impression: I really wanted more. More hop aroma. More hop flavor. More interesting malt. The whole seemed a bit one-dimensional to me, and that dimension was mostly bitter. Sure, there were some other things going on, but as I stated above they were all pretty subtle. I found myself thinking, “Well, there’s another 9.5% IPA. And the world certainly needed another one of those.” Maybe I did leave it too long.

Schell’s Goosetown

The folks down at Schell’s keep trotting out the new brews. I have to say, I was devastated to learn that Chimney Sweep, my new favorite, was not a year-round offering. Somehow I had got it in my head that it was. Maybe wishful thinking. In fact it’s a six-month beer that will alternate with Goosetown, a new Gose-ish summer beer.

Goosetown is part of a new trend in brewing to recreate extinct or nearly-extinct beer styles. One could say that the trend began in 1967 when Pierre Celis opened the Hoegaarden brewery to revive the Belgian witbier style that had sputzed out of existence ten years earlier. Today microbrewers are brewing modern interpretations of such long-lost beers as Gose, Mumme, Berliner Weisse, Grätzer, and Burton Ale.

Gose (pronounced GŌ-zuh) seems to fit into the family of “white beers” that once existed across Europe and Great Britain. It includes Hefeweizen, Berliner Weiss, and witbeir among other styles. Gose originated in the region near Leipzig, where water high in sodium lent the beer a saline profile. It’s a wheat based beer, often with coriander added. Lactic fermentation gives it a lemony tartness.

Goosetown isn’t exactly an authentic, traditionally brewed Gose. I don’t think the brewers at Schell’s would dispute that assertion. It is a tasty and refreshing summer ale, though. I actually tasted this long ago. I’ve been tied up in an all-consuming project in Chicago, however, and am just now getting around to posting my notes.

Here’s My notes:

Goosetown
August Schell Brewing Company, New Ulm, Minnesota
Style: Gose
Serving Style: 12 oz. Bottle

Aroma: Wheaty. Bread and Saltines. Very light fruity notes – like a light lemony citrus. Aromatics are very subtle and mostly malt.

Appearance: The first sample was light golden and brilliantly clear, although later bottles have had a haze. Long-lasting fluffy white head. It really sticks around in a thick layer on surface.

Flavor: Bready wheat malt with smooth edges. Background salinity, but not enough to say it’s salty. It adds a mineral note and gives emphasizing contrast to the malt. Light sweetness. Bitterness is low and hop flavors are nearly non-existent. Only the lightest note of spice and something that reminds me of Indian lime-pickle. Maybe it’s the salt and noble hops bringing that to my mind. There is an afterthought of lemony acidity, but not nearly enough to say it’s sour. Maybe not even enough to notice outright unless you really pay attention. Like the coriander and orange in a witbier, it enhances without drawing attention to itself. Finishes with a parting shot of light bitterness and lingering bread and lemons.

Mouthfeel: Light body. Medium carbonation.

Overall Impression: Delicate yet flavorful. Exceptionally clean and balanced. Billed as a Gose. It’s Gose-ish, but I’d call it more of a slightly salty American wheat beer with a hint of acidity. But that’s okay. It’s a delightfully drinkable brew. It almost makes up for taking Chimney Sweep away for the summer. Almost, but not quite. I really want to try this with Indian lime pickle. The intensity of the pickle may overpower the beer, but something tells me it would be a good pairing.

Summit Brewing Company Meridian Session Ale

“New sells.” is the response I got from one Minnesota brewer when I asked about the plethora of new brews our legacy brewers are pumping out. Indeed, in today’s market it’s not enough to stand on your laurels. Innovation is the key to staying relevant.

Enter the Union Series from Summit Brewing Company. Union Series beers will be released “every so often” according to the brewery’s press release. For this series the Summit brewers are exploring the innovations being made in other sectors of the industry – malting and hop farming. Each beer will make extensive use of “new (and sometimes rare) hops and malts.”

Meridian Session Ale is the first beer in the series. As concocted by Head Brewer Damian McConn, it is a Belgian-style single (think a sessionable version of a Belgian tripel) that is brewed with Concerto malt and Meridian hops. Concerto is a pale malt from Norfolk, the prime barley growing region of Southeast England. It is said to deliver bready and toasty qualities. Meridian hops were discovered accidentally by an Oregon hop grower attempting to resurrect an older sister variety to Willamette. They are said to bring flavors of lemon and fruit punch.

Here’s my notes:

Meridian Session Ale
Summit Brewing Company, St. Paul, Minnesota
Style: Belgian Single
Serving Style: 12 oz. bottle

Aroma: Full-bore nose emphasizing grainy and sugary malt and yeast blend with tantalizing toasted notes. Malt dominates, but hops lend a wisp of lemony citrus and herbs, underscored by hints of stone fruits.

Appearance: Deeply golden with a slight haze. Dense head of fluffy, white foam that sticks around and around.

Flavor: A delicate balance of malt, hops, and yeast. Malt gives sugary sweetness and dry toast. Bitterness is moderate, but accentuated by the desert-dry finish. It tarries a while after swallowing. Hop flavors stress lemon zest. Tropical fruit punch comes in the middle and it really does taste like fruit punch. Belgian-yeasty, cotton-candy character and spicy black pepper rounds things out. Sometimes each flavor stands out alone. Others times they all meld into one.

Mouthfeel: Light body. Medium carbonation. Slight astringency.

Overall Impression: Very refreshing, but with intriguing depth. Will be a nice springtime beer if spring ever arrives. If I had any criticism it’s that it could maybe stand a touch more carbonation. This is a great beer to pair with spring veggies like asparagus and ramps.

2013 Happy Gnome Firkin Fest Recap

The annual Happy Gnome Firkin Fest happened last Saturday. Firkin Fest is the Twin Cities’ biggest celebration of cask-conditioned beer, boasting some 80 casks from local, national, and international brewers. For fans of “real-ale” it’s quite the fete.

It’s also one of the Twin Cities’ most troubled beer fests. Starting about three years ago when “craft” beer really started to pop, the logistics of Firkin Fest got away from the organizers. Too many people crammed the tent. Too few porta-poties left people peeing on the trees. Long lines kept people standing in the cold and beer ran out with hours left to go. In short, it was a fat mess. 2012 was the first year in a lot of years that the Happy Gnome got it right. Then General Manager and lead organizer Catherine Pflueger left. I had concerns for this year. Experience with big events suggests that new organizers don’t necessarily heed past lessons learned.

Turns out my worries were for the most part unfounded. The tent did get tight as the fest wore on, but it wasn’t the all-out sardine squeeze of past years. The line to get people in seemed to move briskly – at least the tent filled up quickly once the doors opened. I never waited in any line at all to use the outdoor facilities. The food was tasty. I ate immediately upon arrival, so I don’t know how the food lines developed later. By the time I left just before 5 pm, the firkins were beginning to run dry, but no one was in danger of going thirsty. The one complaint I had was that I couldn’t find a trash can anywhere in the joint. I carried around an empty cheese-curd thingy until a brewer finally took it from me and put it on the ground under the counter. It was an oversight, but not one to ruin the fest.

The Beer

Casks have a big hole that kegs do not. You can stuff a lot of stuff into a big hole, and that’s what brewers tend to do at Firkin Fest. The results can be really tasty; O’dell’s orange IPA comes to mind – a personal favorite from both this year and last. But often times they’re not. Does that already hopped-up IPA really need extra dry hops? And alcohol-soaked Peeps? (Although by the brewer’s own admission the marshmallow chicks didn’t really taste like anything.)

My other pet peeve about the beer at Firkin Fest is the number of Belgian styles represented. Some styles just don’t belong in casks. High carbonation is an important part of the profile of most Belgian brews. It adds zip to the mouthfeel that helps lighten the body. Cask ale is by definition low carb (that’s bubbles, not starches). It leaves saisons and tripels tasting flat and flabby. And yet, there were saisons in abundance, each one getting a less-than-spectacular representation. The only one that worked was Surly’s Saison Brett. I think the barnyard funk of the Brettanomyces added a leathery bite that somewhat made up for the lack of fizz.

But there were some real standouts at Firkin Fest. My favorite was Bell’s Kalamazoo Stout. No tricks. No hops. No smirkins of this, that, and the other thing. Just Kalamazoo Stout in a cask. It’s a great beer to start with. It’s a style that’s absolutely appropriate for a firkin. It was fantastic. I went back several times and drank way more than my share.

I was pleasantly surprised by Crispin Cider’s Not You’re Mama’s Apple Pie cask. They started with The Saint, their cider fermented with Abbey yeast. They dosed it with additional sugars and then fermented it again with a different strain of Belgian yeast. To that they added apple pie spices. It really tasted like apple pie. Yummy!

Lift Bridge Brewery won the coveted Golden Firkin for the second year in a row with Manhattan Project. This was a fully-stuffed beer that I enjoyed. They added bourbon-soaked oak chips and maraschino cherries to a single-barrel aged version of Silhouette Imperial Stout for a kind of beer-based Manhattan cocktail. It was delicious.

Also worthy of mention was J.W. Lee’s Harvest Ale, always a favorite of mine. Schell’s Imperial Grain Belt was interesting, but like regular Premium was too sweet for me. And cask-conditioned lager is another fun experiment, but probably not a recipe for great beer. There were others, but travels prevented me from writing this any sooner and I left my program at home. My memory is failing me. Must have killed a few too many brain cells at the fest.

All in all it was a good fest. I can’t believe I didn’t take any pictures. What was I thinking?