Without following that link, I doubt you remember all the “pearls of wisdom” (ha!) I laid out nearly two years ago. Bigfoot, created nearly 30 years ago, has stood the test of time, tweaking but never overhauling the recipe for this standard-bearer of American-style barleywine: appropriately over-the-top Pacific Northwest hops, huge, full malt backbone to carry the booze and bitterness, a little bit sweet to let you know it’s a barleywine at heart, and all wrapped up in a deceptively drinkable package. In the United States, there really was nothing like it still being brewed before it rose from the vats at Sierra Nevada.

So far, I believe only once did Sierra Nevada screw with Bigfoot and put it in a bourbon barrel or something equally terrible. I consider that a sin, but it’s venial compared to the mortal atrocities done to a lot of beers out there. Sierra’s mostly done right by its little sasquatch.

As you can probably figure out, I love this beer. I mostly love it fresh — it arrives in New York each year in late January or early February — or with a few years worth of cellaring. From several months to two years is normally its “adolescent” period, where it’s trying to figure out what it wants to be when it’s mature. The hops have begun to fade, and the beer itself starts to oxidize, like any beer, developing telltale aging notes.

So of course that’s why I’m cracking one open now. Maybe I’ve just been wrong all these years. (Sure, that 1998 Bigfoot I drank early this year was a terrible, terrible mess, but I’m sure I can get someone to buy the rest off me on eBay if I have to.)

I pour my 2010 Bigfoot (sixth of twelve, I believe) into the same snifter I used for my first review. As expected, it’s copper, a tawny beer, not quite but nearly clear, kicking up a finger of soapy pale-tan foam in the small glass, lingering from start to finish along the sides as I drink. The aroma yields the telltale signs of oxidation: here, a distinct toffee aroma. The blast of grapefruity citric hop notes is diminished considerably, but quite present — just balanced by the toffee, a bit of caramel, and the heat from the alcohol.

Flavor? Oh, it’s more of the same. It’s bitter grapefruit, pine, malty-sweet, toffee, and a dose of peppery alcohol, in that order. The toffee comes to nearly dominate the bitterness as the beer warms, but until then it plays nice, balancing the residual bitterness well. The roughness of the hops never goes away, but it does settle for lingering in the background quite often.

Bigfoot finishes with a drying alcohol bite in with the malt sweetness and a bit of grapefruit, and it’s clear I’ll be sipping this for a bit this fine evening. There’s something to be said for relaxing with a nearly 10% alcohol beer instead of pounding it like a terrible alcohol shot.

Verdict? Cellared properly, Sierra Nevada Bigfoot is still a beer to reach for, especially on a cold night when the alcohol will help make you feel warmer. It’s interesting to vertical the different years of this barleywine, to get a sense of how it’s changed with age, but for today, it’s one Bigfoot.

You’ll find Bigfoot at the usual suspects around town. If years past are an indicator, it will go for about $13 per six, a much better price than you’ll find for a lot of considerably poorer seasonals that time of year. So relax, drink from your stash of aging Bigfoots — you are aging some, right? — and keep your eyes peeled for the next batch in a couple of months.

On a final note: this very beer will also be the subject of my last review here at The Feisty Foodie. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time here, and I’ll certainly hang around and keep the other family members honest. It’s been a real pleasure enlightening some, angering others, and confusing probably a great number of the rest. As always, drink what you like, when you like, and don’t make excuses. Enjoy the beer you love!

© BeerBoor for The Feisty Foodie, 2011. | Permalink | 7 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: barleywine, beer, drinks

One of the several Pennsylvania brewpubs I sought out (that you, Mr. Lander, for the recommendations!) is located in Bellefonte, a sleepy Victorian town just off the Interstate and near State College, home to the Penn State Nittany Lions.

The Gamble Mill dates from the 18th century. Though, like most wooden structures of a certain age, much has been rebuilt due to fire and wear, the building retains its charm both inside and out.

I was directed upstairs, on a narrow, claustrophobia-inducing staircase, to this rambling, rustic dining area. I arrived just before noon, and was one of the first diners of the day.

As it is indeed a brewpub, and I was indeed driving, I opted for the beer sampler. As seems to be tradition at small-town breweries, the beers had names tied to the area, and thus it was that I sampled the HB 48 Session Ale (HB 48 was a state bill that, once passed, allowed brewpubs like the Gamble Mill to exist), the J. Rose Pale Ale (Jeremy Rose is “an accomplished local jockey”), Victorian Secret raspberry wheat beer, the Brockerhoff Fest Beer (for the Brockerhoff Hotel, a local landmark dating from the Civil War era), and the Lit Wit Belgian ale (Bellefonte was the second municipality in the US to use electric streetlights). I hoped for a taste of all six beers on the menu, but alas, the Bush House Brown Ale was out, so I doubled up on the Fest.

Helpfully, a flip book was presented to explain each of the beers. To me — since you didn’t get one, here’s my take on the beers, in order:
- HB 48: Definitely the Budweiser substitute, very light on aroma, taste, and finish, but with a corny flavor likely from DMS, not from the flaked corn added (which is more to add alcohol without adding flavor, than any other reason).
- J. Rose: Easy-to-drink, mildly hoppy English-style pale ale, not overly bitter but clean, crisp, and lightly fruity. The best beer of the five.
- Victorian Secret: Yep, that’s raspberry! Not terribly sweet, so while it’s a definite “girl beer,” it isn’t cloying, but as an American-style wheat, the wheat part is almost an afterthought.
- Brockerhoff: Not an Oktoberfest, as it seems all the dark color and malt flavor can be attributed to caramel malt, not the festbier staple Munich malt (or Vienna malt) which would add a bready, cookie-dough sweetness to the beer. Not overhopped, at least, and certainly a drinkable beer.
- Lit Wit: Waaaaay too heavy a hand with the coriander. Instead of a refreshing, somewhat-complex Belgian wheat beer, I got a spiced beer with a twinge of Belgian-yeast character.

During the journey through my beer sampler, my lunch started to show up. First up, the clam chowder. Piping hot, the bowl ($4) was filled with potatoes and other vegetables among the clams, and…

… pancetta. Yes, that word on the menu caught my eye and rendered any internal discussion of other starters pointless. As expected, the creamy broth was on the salty side (which I like), but it was well-studded with chunks of clam. This was no ordinary chowder, and I think maybe I should have ordered three bowls of it.

I’m still not sure why I ordered the steak frites ($16), but I guess I just wasn’t feeling in a burger mood, and I won’t pay $14 for fish and chips. I think it was sirloin, but no mention was made of the cut. It was prepared rare, as I’d asked, and arrived warm and pre-sliced.

That would be a “burgundy sauce” and “tavern fries” adorning the plate. The sauce was a little sweet, but with enough salt to cut through that — similar to soy sauce. The steak, however expertly and nakedly prepared, just didn’t impart much flavor. Excellent fries, though, and the burgundy sauce proved an excellent dip.

While The Gamble Mill turned out to be somewhat hit-or-miss, its intangibles sold it for me. In addition to the beautiful old building, my server was friendly and fun; she only had a few tables to tend, but I felt she would have been as attentive in a packed house. The beer list varies in quality over the course of a year, so maybe the dead of winter showcases a better list, but the microbrewery side of things showed signs of high-quality brewing. If you aren’t a beer drinker, you can certainly “get by” here, but I think it’s better experienced if you’re open to drinking beer with your meal of choice. I say give it a look if you’re on the Interstate.

© BeerBoor for The Feisty Foodie, 2011. | Permalink | 10 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: beer, brewpub, drinks, Steak

This year’s entry? Guatemala de Flor, gladly accepted from Edelman, Starbucks’ PR firm. Note the same eight-ounce size as before. However, this bag of beans runs $15 on the package, up 20% from the Galapagos of 2010, though “suggested retail” starts at $12.50 once again.

The beans hail from the San Sebastian farm, an estate in the Antigua Valley known for its coffee-growing perfection. Plus, it’s “nestled between three volcanoes,” so I’m guessing the volcanic soil adds some interesting depth to the beans. I wouldn’t consider this a dark roast; this is more middle-of-the-road for Starbucks.

I measured out the appropriate amount of beans to grind and make a small pot of drip coffee. Note the shimmer of the coffee oils on the surface, and the deep, deep brown color. So lovely.

As always, the taste is the thing, and Starbucks’ tasting notes describe the drinking experience thusly: a fusion of deep lavender aromas that are complemented by lemony acidity and intriguing floral and herbal notes. I’m glad I didn’t read that prior to forming my own opinion.

I inhaled deeply, catching a bouquet of flowers and a faint spiciness — like a rosemary or thyme note. It drinks surprisingly smooth and rounded, earthy, faint unsweetened cocoa flavors, and an overall perception of perfumy floral flavors. It’s mostly coffee, but a little tea, and while that sounds weird, it tastes rather good, actually. I don’t know what they’re on about regarding the lemony acidity, but it’s certainly not missed.

I’m really quite impressed with this coffee, even more so that last year’s beans. The Guatemala is definitely smoother than the Galapagos, and not nearly as full-bodied, but I think I could drink this regularly and not feel too bad about being in a Starbucks. I’m used to Central Amiercan beans being somewhat fruity and edgeless, but Guatemala de Flor kind of expands my definition of the region’s coffee.

Please note that this coffee was courtesy of Edelman and Starbucks. I received no monetary compensation for this review, nor was I obliged in any way to post about the beans, positively or otherwise. This is my own opinion and I feel it was unbiased; you are free to take from this what you will.

© BeerBoor for The Feisty Foodie, 2011. | Permalink | 2 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: coffee, drinks

In addition to the wineries, distributors, and wine stores displaying and offering their wines on the main floor, tastings and educational seminars were held upstairs, and we were almost immediately invited to join one: “Volcanic Italy – an Exploration of the Explosive White Wines of Soave and Etna”. Essentially, we tasted ten white wines hailing from Soave, in northeast Italy, and Etna, a region on the east coast of Sicily surrounding, yes, the active volcano there, while we were presented with the history and geography of the wine regions of Italy.

There are currently around 600 wineries in Sicily, where the harvest lasts up to three months each year due to the wide variety of climates. In addition, sometimes cultivation is an issue when there are eruptions from the many active volcanoes on the island, which leads to a sort of “black rain” that coats the grapes and the vines and has to be washed off constantly. I guess every vineyard has its challenges, but that’s rather a unique one.

The tasting began all ten glasses were all filled. I wish that we’d been given a sheet with all ten wines and their provenance and grape varieties, but instead we had slides to scan quickly; I took photos of the slides as the presenters moved on far too quickly.

The awaited moment arrived, and we began tasting. These are our first two wines. On the left, Planeta, a 100% carricantes wine from 2010 grown in the Castiglione di Sicilia region, known for its rich volcanic soil. It was also one of the palest wines in the tasting. Honeysuckle in the nose, sharply acidic, with loads of green apple and pear, and a long finish. A good start to the afternoon’s wines.

Next up, the Barone di Villagrande 2010 Il Fiore, out of Etna, another carricante wine with 10% chardonnay. This was one of my favorites, with a sweeter nose than the previous wine, considerably sweeter — but not cloying — compared to the Planeta, with a raw honey bite to the apple that dominated the flavor profile, and more minerally and earthy than I expected, too.

The palest wine in the group came from Cantine Riondo, the 2010 Excelsa Pianello, Soave DOC. Another new grape for me, this wine utilizes the garganega grape, one of the indigenous grapes in the region. It produces a sharp, not terribly aromatic nose, but a medium-bodied wine without much sweetness.

Also pictured:
- 2010 Bertani Sereole, Soave DOC, also 100% garganega grapes, had a sweetly citrusy nose, and some acid in among the pear and even a little sweeter fruit, like peach — the difference between maturation in a stainless vat (the Excelsa Pianello) and oak barrels.
- 2010 Bolla, Soave classico, 90% garganega, 10% trebbiano di Soave. The addition of trebbiano grapes, also indigenous, allow for a deeper straw color and a much more complex nose: honeysuckle, tropical fruit like pineapple, and definitely a little more sourness cutting the acid in the body. Sweet apple and apricot flavors seem present in there, too. The long finish was unusual for this flight, also. One of my favorite wines of the afternoon.

And the final five:
- Cantina di Soave, 2010 Rocca Sveva, all garganega, Soave classico region: brilliant straw color, and a more perfumy nose than the previous wines. Drier, citric flavors, a little spicy, and with more prominent alcohol pepperiness, though it was one of the less alcoholic wines (12.5% abv).
- 2010 Balestri Valda, Soave classico, 80% garganega, 20% trebbiano di soave. Where all but one of the wines on the tasting thus far were matured in steel vats only, part of this wine’s maturation involves six months in “Slavonian oak casks”. This oak produces a honeyed aroma alongside the tart apple, with much the same flavors, sharp acid, and quite dry overall.
- Cantina di Castello, 2010 Castello, Soave classico region. Again, 80% garganega and 20% trebbiano di soave, producing a more straightforward honeysuckle and pear nose and body, but a more pronounced, sweet finish.
- Cantina di Monteforte, 2009 Vigneto di Castellaro, from Soave Superiore DOCG, 100% garganega. This takes a year in oak barrels with its own natural yeast before transferring to the bottle for 6 months. As a result, I picked up a little funkiness in the nose, a little sourness as well, which stretches into the flavor and honestly made this wine less pleasant than I was hoping for.
- Sandro de Bruno 2008 Monte San Piero, Soave Superiore DOCG, 100% garganega. This one ferments nearly a year in French oak with its own natural yeast. Hoping for an improvement over the previous wine, this wine was sour and pungent to the point where it seemed to be brandy. All wood, plus a little lacquer for good measure. Not the best way to end a tasting.

My choice wines from the tasting? The 2010 Balestra Valda and 2010 Barone di Villagrande, though virtually any of the first eight wines (notably younger, compared to the final two) would be welcome on my table.

After our tour of these regions and grapes, we sampled many wines, mostly reds and sparkling, from the exhibitors downstairs, before saying our goodbyes and walking back into the weather. Many thanks to Vinitaly for allowing us the opportunity, and I think I speak for both of us when I say I look forward to the next tasting event!

Please note that Vinitaly and its PR provided admission to me without charge. I received no monetary compensation for this review, nor was I obliged in any way to post about this experience, positively or otherwise. This is my own opinion and I feel it was unbiased; you are free to take from this what you will.

© BeerBoor for The Feisty Foodie, 2011. | Permalink | 5 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: drinks, Etna, Italy, press event, Sicily, Soave, wine

Peet’s has always tended toward the dark roast method, which in the past hasn’t exactly thrilled me; too often that seems to mean “burn the heck out of the beans. But now Peet’s is in grocery stores, pre-ground (sigh) in 12-ounce packages, and they were kind enough to send along the Café Solano and Café Domingo coffees for testing and the like.

As Peet’s press release relates, “Café Solano is a blend of African, Indo-Pacific and South American coffees that is lively and aromatic. Peet’s experts describe it at a world blend with floral notes and a subtle fruit essence for a lively, yet rounded cup.”

The package calls for two level tablespoons of coffee per six-ounce cup. My coffeemaker’s 8-cup mark equals 36 ounces, so that came out to about 50g (close to two ounces) of coffee per pot. I am fairly positive I don’t use my home-ground beans at that rate, and I enjoy my coffee, but in the interests of science, twelve tablespoons it was.

I readily admit, the coffee smelled quite wonderful as it brewed in my standard drip coffeemaker, and I eagerly waited my first cup of the morning.

Rich and earthy, the Solano reveals a bit of a sour thing in the nose. Quite bitter, curiously not so much “coffee!” screaming out as a soft, slightly dirty coffeeish flavor underneath. That initial impression was tempered a little as I got into my second cup, which seemed slightly more rounded that the first cup, and I began to warm to that sourness — it started to seem a bit tannic, really, that type of bitterness.

There’s only so many ways that I tend to pair coffee at home, and most of those are breakfast related. So it was that Café Solano accompanied a cheese and pepperoni omelet (yes, I do that) one morning, and a lovely toasted H&H salt bagel the next. Its purpose was fulfilled: to provide warm lubrication to the meal, and not overwhelm the non-carb components. Mission accomplished!

A few days later, I tore into the second pre-ground bag. As the press release states, “Café Domingo is a blend of Central and South American coffees that is smooth, balanced and medium-bodied with more pure coffee taste. Peet’s coffee experts describe it as a medium roast cup with hints of toffee sweetness and clean crisp finish.”

Yep, somewhere around 50 grams of coffee again. This really does look like too much, but the proof is in the cup. While I expect to way overload my mother’s coffeemaker as she keeps lesser store brands in her home, it seems like I shouldn’t be doing that with Peet’s.

On the other hand, if the Peet’s is going to be this aromatic, who am I to argue? I’ll have to bring some home for Thanksgiving, for starters.

I compared Café Domingo to the Solano, as that made the most logical sense. It’s definitely a little fuller-bodied, richer, than the Solano to my palate. Deeper coffee flavor, no sour note, a touch of bitter chocolate, even. It isn’t quite as “slick” on the tongue, either.

I managed to enjoy this pot of Café Domingo alongside a couple of snickerdoodles (baked by CT), and later, determined that Domingo also works pretty well straight as an iced coffee, no sugar required to cut the usual bitterness brought on with a cold cup of coffee.

I hit upon a fun idea when six pounds of peanuts arrived in the mail. So I took a cup of (shelled) peanuts, and simmered those in 3/4 cup brewed coffee with about a half-teaspoon of cayenne pepper until the coffee was all absorbed/evaporated. If you prefer a less bitter coffee, I strongly recommend sugaring the coffee prior to simmering the peanuts in it. Either way, just be warned that this leaves a residue in your pot.

I then dusted the hot, wet nuts with another half-teaspoon of cayenne, then transferred them to the oven for 5-7 minutes at 400 degrees until they were dry once more.

You can let them cool before you eat them, but I doubt you’ll hold out. Enjoy!

Please note that Foodbuzz and Peet’s provided the coffee to me without charge. I received no monetary compensation for this review, nor was I obliged in any way to post about this experience, positively or otherwise. This is my own opinion and I feel it was unbiased; you are free to take from this what you will.

© BeerBoor for The Feisty Foodie, 2011. | Permalink | 4 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: coffee, drinks