BOCK 'N' ALE YA

Hop tarts: The vegetable that gives beer balance

By Patrick Beach
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Wednesday, August 06, 2008

As we approach midterms for Brew U's summer session, our little primer on the basics of beer, it's time to turn our attention to every adult potable lover's favorite green vegetable, one that beer would be unfathomable without: asparagus.

We kid, of course. Although it goes not so well with Hollandaise sauce, today's subject is hops, which add bitterness and aroma to beer, offsetting the sweetness of unfermented sugar from the malted grains. And although we might have a hard time fathoming beer without them, it wasn't always so.

In the fourth century B.C., they made beer in Mesopotamia, a part of the world that's also been in the news of late, and it's believed they had hops, Humulus lupulus. Hops are believed to have first been widely cultivated in the Hallertau region of Bavaria, hence the bittering agent named for the place, which is now the largest hop-growing region in the world.

The Romans introduced hops to Britain, but as a cooking vegetable, not a beer additive. The asparagus line wasn't a total joke — young hop shoots can be eaten just like asparagus. In fact, it's reported that the Brits strongly resisted using hops in beer. It was used to make a calming tea and was said to blunt the male libido, which is hugely ironic because, let's face it, the fact that beer makes people more attractive, especially at closing time, is well-documented.

Eventually the tribe that gave the world bangers and mash, Neville Chamberlain and the Sex Pistols came around, however. Hops were used in the American colonies in the 1620s and when they weren't available, folks used spruce and sassafras. (Remember, in those days, water could kill you and beer was safer.) In addition to adding flavor and aroma, hops helped with head retention and clarification, and their antibacterial quality had a preservative effect that was critical as Europe's empires spread, which is how India pale ale came to be: It was brewed with a higher hop and alcohol content and shipped in oak barrels to her majesty's troops, parched as they were by the white man's burden, in India.

Now. Don't we feel smart?

The hop flavor profile of the finished beer is determined by the bitterness of the hops used, in what quantity and when. Typically, higher-acidity bittering hops go in at the beginning of the boil so they can combat the malt for beer supremacy, while aroma hops go in just a few minutes before turning off the fire. But there are many, many variations. Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA, for example, is continuously hopped for the full hour of the boil. Another variation is what's called dry hopping, which is simply throwing hops into the fermenter. There's also a device rarely seen, like Bigfoot, called a Randall tap, which is a tube filled with fresh leaf hops through which the beer tap line is run to give it a fresh, last-minute hop blast. I know one guy locally who has one.

Anyway. The finished product is given a bitterness rating on a scale of International Bittering Units, or IBUs, which both of my regular readers might recall we've discussed before.

There are scads of hop varieties and the number has grown in recent decades, coinciding with the American craft brewing revolution. Brewers have gotten as fetishistic about their hops as vintners about their grapes, and craft and microbrewers have been more specific about an ingredient that consumers long saw as generic. As brewers, particularly on the West Coast, got bolder and more imaginative, particularly in the hop content of the pales and IPAs, they often sought hops from the same region. Domestic varieties you may come across include Chinook, Cascade, Willamette, Centennial and Amarillo. DFH 60 contains Warrior, Amarillo and a mystery hop; Green Flash's double IPA (more about that below) gets cranked up on Summit, which has only been in production a few years, and Nugget.

Why all the fuss? Discerning noses can smell the difference between notes of, say, pine versus cedar, floral versus grass, grapefruit versus, uh, passion fruit? Before you taste your next pint, take a good long whiff and you'll enjoy it more. And you should, because they cost a lot more. For almost a year we've been seeing stories about how bad weather in Europe and declining production stateside have led to price increases of close to 100 percent for some varieties. This really hurts micros, who use more hops than majors in their beers. Moreover, the industrial behemoths lock in contracts small brewers don't have the clout to establish.

Final, funnest fact of all: Hops are related to cannabis. Doesn't the universe totally make sense now?

(512) Brewing up and running. Kevin Brand moved the inaugural batches of his wit and pale ale into area pubs last week, with the India pale ale soon to follow. The wit is modeled on Pierre Celis' Belgian white, and it's light and crisp, with that distinctive Belgian wheat nose — and using grapefruit rather than the traditional orange. Perfect for hot days like we'll have through, uh, whenever. The pale, Brand says, is "a staple beer that can display hops the way I like to display hops. (English Pilgrim and First Gold, to be specific.) It's not a beer that requires a lot of education." It's got a lovely butterscotch color and an assertive but not overpowering hop presence. (512) is on tap at the Ginger Man, Uncle Billy's Brew & Que, the Alamo Drafthouse Lake Creek and Draughthouse Pub & Brewery. Check out 512brewing.com for more.

My new favorite beer, aside from Austin Homebrew Supply's clone of Unibroue's Trois Pistoles, which I bottled the other day, is Green Flash's Imperial IPA, which is new to the Austin market. San Diego has established itself as a great beer town and heaven for true hopheads, and this ripped IPA is the grail of so-called San Diego-style brews. (There's some debate about what defines this appellation, as opposed to West Coast style, but it's generally regarded as very hoppy, higher in alcohol and a bit lighter in color than their cousins up the coast.) The Green Flash — available in 22-ounce bottles around town and, at 9 percent alcohol, definitely a bottle for sharing — has an astonishing 101 IBUs with a golden orange color and surprising balance of hops, alcohol and malt. It's not as chunky as, say, a Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA, but that's representative of the style — and the differing styles are kind of the brewing version of the West Coast-East Coast hip-hop rivalries of old. Except gunplay hasn't been an element in this rivalry yet.

Beer + Brando + Cajun food = Hooray. At the time of this writing, $45 tickets were still available for the Alamo Lake Creek's "Streetcar Named Desire" New Orleans dinner and Abita beer tasting. The menu includes Turbo Dog-battered crawfish boudin balls, jambalaya, blackened catfish and an Abita root beer float for dessert. And an — ahem — special guest will be on hand for a Q&A after the movie. Drafthouse.com for more.

Another one for your calendar:Austin Homebrew Supply, 7951 Burnet Road, is having a benefit forPatrickOrion Fierro, a relative of a store employee, from noon to 6 p.m. Aug 23. Patrick, 9, who will be in fifth grade at Dawson Elementary School this fall,was diagnosed with an abnormal collection of blood vessels on his brain stem, leading to emergency surgery and a long rehab. Now he and his family are facing a daunting pile of medical bills. The shop is donating 10 percent of all sales that day, three bands will provide tunes and there will be food and refreshments. If you brew, this is a golden excuse to pick up ingredients for your next batch and do a good thing at the same time. You can follow the boy's progress — and donate — at orionfierro.blogspot.com or orionandmatt.blogspot.com

pbeach@statesman.com; 445-3604