Sixpack Sez

Mar. 09, 2007 | The case for extreme beer

THE SAYING goes that the man who works with his hands is a laborer, and the man who works with his hands and his brains is a craftsman. But the man who works with his hands, his brains and his heart is an artist.

Beerwise, the most inspired brewers are not just craftsmen, they are artists.

If there is an avant-garde movement among these brewers, then it is extreme beer.

For the sake of clarity, I'll adopt the definition of Sam Calagione, the president of Dogfish Head Brewing in Delaware, who has written a book ("Extreme Brewing: An Enthusiast's Guide to Brewing Craft Beer at Home," Quarry Books, $24.99) on the topic and whose company has bottled more extreme beers than anyone.

Calagione says it's any beer brewed with at least one non-traditional ingredient - say fruit, or wild yeast - or with an excessive amount of at least one traditional ingredient, like hops or malt.

Extreme beer is, just as it sounds, beer that is pushed to the edge. It may be exceptionally hoppy, like a double India pale ale. Or spicy, like pumpkin ale. It may be very rich and malty, like an imperial stout; high in alcohol, like a barleywine; or tart and funky, like a wild ale.

As with the avant-garde, extreme beer is experimental, possibly even radical. It has thrown off the shackles of convention. It is willing to take chances; it is willing even to fail.

It is fearless.

Just as Marcel Duchamp once drew a mustache on Mona Lisa, so too will an extreme brewer take a delicate pilsner and turn it into a raging hop monster.

As with art, extreme beer is not always easy to enjoy. It isn't mainstream. It is not what some call "normal" beer, or "session" beer, which gets its name from the ease with which it can be consumed during lengthy drinking sessions.

By its nature it is not for everyone. So it's convenient to reject as elitist.

Which brings us to a spate of self-doubt that's erupted recently among some craft brewers and other beer fans.

The worry, as laid out in a Beer Advocate magazine article by local beer scribe Lew Bryson, is that extreme beer has gone too far. (Full disclosure: I also write for Beer Advocate.)

These critics say extreme beer gets too much ink and threatens to turn off the novice beer-drinkers that the craft brewing segment needs in order to grow.

Brewers and others blast extreme beer as "sugar-overdosed, cranked-up, fusel-alcohol bombs" that are the product of "testosterone-driven, hop one-upmanship."

Bryson calls extreme beer "boring."

"You can hide crappy brewing with a ton of hops or a barrel of malt," Bryson explained in an e-mail. Though he said he enjoys well-made extreme beers, he added, "I also don't think most of them are that innovative. They're just big. That's what I find boring."

Calagione, one of the targets of the backlash, is understandably defensive.

"I think it's alarmist for no reason," he said. "For anybody to place their opinion on when extreme beers have gone too far is doing the whole craft segment a disservice. We're all supposed to be involved in the education of the consumer to the diversity and distinction of craft beer."

More importantly, I think, the criticism ignores the primary role of the avant-garde, which is to break new ground, to provide a pathway for others to follow, to raise the standards of the art.

Twenty years ago, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale was extreme beer. Today, because so many others followed, it is mainstream.

There is an element, well-articulated by Bryson, that believes some brewers and beer fans are wrongly ignoring session beers. He's begun a blog at lewbryson.blogspot.com to talk up these everyday beers.

I like session beers, too.

They're dependable, go-to favorites that satisfy the lowest common denominator, namely, thirst. They make you happy.

But these beers - no matter how competently they're brewed - will never generate excitement, spawn creativity or lead us to new ground.

Session beers, I'm afraid, are Norman Rockwells.

Michael Jackson at Penn

See for yourself what everyone's talking about tomorrow at the annual Michael Jackson tutored tasting at the University of Pennsylvania Museum.

Jackson, the celebrated British beer writer, will be accompanied by Calagione in presenting a menu of spectacular extreme beers.

Among the highlights: Peche Mortel, the coffee-infused Imperial stout from Montreal; Dogfish Head Red & White, a Belgian-style white beer made with spices and fermented pinot noir juice, aged in wood barrels; Old Horizontal, a bracing barleywine from Downingtown; Hop 15 Double IPA, the mouth-puckering hop monster from California's Port Brewing; George's Fault, an award-winning grand cru from Nodding Head; and Iron Hill Cassis, a lambic flavored with currants.

Afterward, more than 30 local brewers, importers and distributors will use the refined setting of the museum's Chinese Rotunda to pour their most exotic, exceptional brands.

Sessions are scheduled for 1, 3:30 and 6 p.m. Tickets are $45. Call 215-898-3900 or go online to www.pennpresents.org.