Review: Rogue Santa’s Private Reserve

This is the story of one beer and 28,000 feet of iconic airport carpet. The Santa’s Private Reserve from Rogue turned out to be my farewell-to-Portland beer, which I drank during a rather solemn morning. I waved goodbye to Mt. Hood, illuminated by the beautiful morning sun, and retrieved my suitcase from James’ truck. It was time to go home.

And though I missed my birds terribly, I was heartbroken to have to leave a city and friends that had been so kind to me. All the same, my Portland vacation was over. I had to return home to a divorce settlement and a move to a new apartment in the following weeks. Perhaps I just didn’t want to go home to so much stress.

Anyway. Beer.

rogue-santas-private-reserve-001

I decided to relax before my flight with a classy 10am airport beer, as one does. I popped into the Rogue bar and restaurant that was near my gate and browsed the beer list. To be honest, at the end of a Pacific Northwest trip, I was kind of IPA-ed out. The double-hopped red ale called Santa’s Private Reserve sounded like a winner.

It was a draft beer poured into a 16oz pint glass. A beautiful, deep amber color, Santa’s Private Reserve featured a pale, off-white head that melted away and left a little lacing behind. The nose was faintly grainy. The mouthfeel was very dry to me. It was not sweet at all at first, but there was a hint of malty sweetness on the finish.

rogue-santas-private-reserve-002

It tasted not quite green, but hoppy and fresh in a way. At 65 IBUs (International Bitter Unit), it was a little bitter on the palate. There was something about it that was dank and resiny, but in a pleasant and not-overwhelming way. I’ve had some dank beers that taste like you’re licking the floor of a pine forest; this was not one of those at all. It featured relatively low carbonation and was very drinkable as long as you’re not expecting a sweet holiday red (the title can be deceiving).

After my beer, I trudged back to my gate and stared at the carpet for a while. It’s famous, you see, among the hipster crowd, but not for a good reason. In 2013, the previous carpet was set to be replaced with an updated look – and that look is kitschy in the not-so-charming way. The old carpet, however, was delightfully dated and kind of fun. And it’s a huge hit with hipsters and Portland natives alike. The old carpet pattern has been rebranded and put on beer labels, shoes, leggings, shirts, and even tattoos.

The changing of the carpet reflects the changing face of Portland. It’s a growing city and a lot of the neighborhoods are changing (hello, gentrification) and some residents would argue that Portland is dying. But it’s all just the nature of expanding urban landscapes. That’s reality right now. Just as the two generations before ours fled the cities to take up residence in the suburbs, so does our generation flee the dying suburbs to live in the cities.

The new, ugly carpet also hits me at a time of big changes in my life. I’m leaving a bad marriage behind and striking out on my own, living alone for the first time in my life. In a year, I hope to be trekking across the country and moving to, well, Portland. It calls to me. I think I could be happy there. And no matter what some hipsters say, I think being happy is important and not just good for an ironic laugh.

Craft Beer Beginnings

Beer as a part of pop culture is nothing new. It’s been deeply tied to sports culture for decades and plays a big role in poker nights and movie nights everywhere. The idea of a cold brew paired with some kind of entertainment is etched deeply into our American brains.

Frat parties and beer chugging didn’t originate with the 1978 movie Animal House, but the parody of Greek culture popularized the idea of wearing a bedsheets toga while shotgunning a beer. Cheers let us know that there’s somewhere where everybody knows your name and where you can get a cold brew. Budweiser dropped memorable commercials full of clydesdales and people shouting waaaazzzzup at one another during big events like the Super Bowl.

craft-beer-beginnings

The thing is, most of these examples come from an era before the craft beer movement was even a twinkle in most brewers’ eyes. Generally, frat parties, Super Bowl parties, and neighborhood watering holes have featured – and continue to feature – sub-par swill from the biggest brewers and distributors in the world. These watery, additive-filled beers are best served icy cold (so you can’t taste them) and drunk quickly (so they don’t get warm, so you can’t taste them) while paying attention to something else.

But there’s been a shift in the past 20 years, and an even more rapid progression toward craft brewing and wide distribution in then past 10. It was only in 1982 that Hilton Harvest House in Boulder, Colorado, hosted a mere 20 breweries (serving only 35 beers) for the first Great American Beer Festival. Today, the annual event features more than 2,000 beers. I’d call that a turning point in the trends of what really mattered to beer drinkers.

craft-beer-beginnings-002

The Boston Beer Company was founded in 1984 and, better known as Sam Adams, it revolutionized the kind and quality of beer that was being made readily available to drinkers in the U.S. While it is now debatably too big to be called a “craft brewery” any longer, it was undeniably a huge influence on the movement as we know it. Love it or hate it, the Boston Beer Company shaped the way we drink today.

craft-beer-beginnings-003
Photo from phillymag.com

The United States is now home to over 4,000 breweries and that number is growing every month. Not all will survive. Business is booming for craft beer, sure, but it’s not sure thing. Remember: closings are a sign of competition and not necessarily a problem or a brewing “bubble” that might soon pop. Competition is good. It’s healthy. It pushes those businesses that do survive to be better, smarter, and more dedicated to their craft.

Still, let us raise a glass to fallen friends (and fallen breweries) and hope that we can all be as hard-working and successful as those who continue to thrive.

Review: Grupo Modelo Negra Modelo Lager

Go on, laugh if you’d like, but this particular beer was offered to me by a friend while she was building her annual Dia De Los Metros shrine to honor her grandfather and other friends who have left us. I can’t think of a better reason to accept the gift of beer, especially when it’s one that I’d never tried before in my life.

grupo-modelo-negra-modelo-001

As a middle-class white girl of dubious European heritage, I had almost no knowledge about Dia De Los Muertos, other than the translation to “Day of the Dead” and a vague understanding that it was to honor those who had passed on. There’s a lot more to it than that, or than just sugar skulls, flower crowns, and pretty skeleton face paint (we can talk about racism and cultural appropriation more another time – that’s a mighty big idea to conquer in a beer review post).

grupo-modelo-negra-modelo-004

Dia De Los Muertos, as it is today, has come from a mix of indigenous Aztec beliefs like the month-long festival of Mictecacihuatl, the tradition of The Lady of the Dead (which corresponds to the modern La Calavera Catrina), and Spanish Conquistadors Catholic traditions of All Souls/All Saints Days. One of the very common ways to observe the Day of the Dead is with an altar that combines both traditional and Catholic imagery, honoring those who have passed through the veil to the other side. It has nothing to do with American/European Halloween traditions.

grupo-modelo-negra-modelo-006

 

Perhaps the most popularized image of Dia De Los Metros is the fancy, painted “sugar skull” image. This originates from the the Calavera Catrina, which, in itself, was actually based in a piece of art by José Guadalupe Posada, a Mexican Artist. Posada created the image of a beautiful skeleton woman as a sort of dig at the Europhile Mexican elite class during an era of dictatorship. It became a symbol of the Mexican Revolution in the early twentieth century.

The Calavera Catrina – the beautiful skeleton – is now a highly commodified and generally misunderstood image that makes companies quite a bit of money at this time of year. Even Starbucks is getting in on the profit-train. It’s not wrong to buy these things, exactly, but it is important to understand their cultural significance.

grupo-modelo-negra-modelo-007

Right. So. Beer.

Negra Modelo is technically a Vienna Lager style beer, but it is a darker red-brown color thanks to the roasted malts used to flavor it. It is, as the color suggests, malty and roasty. It’s a well-balanced beer that isn’t sweet and isn’t dry. It falls well into the category of easy-to-drink.

grupo-modelo-negra-modelo-002

I drank this one straight from the bottle, forgoing a glass completely. Maybe it was the gold foil over the cap, but the bottle felt sufficiently luxurious to drink from this time. It’s different from what Americans call a cerveza-style beer, even though the Mexican-Spanish word for beer is just straight-up “cerveza.” I enjoyed this beer with friends and a feast of fajita burrito fixings that myself and my friend prepared.

grupo-modelo-negra-modelo-003

As for me, I’ll take beer, a cultural lesson, and some burritos any day of the week.

 

Beginnings

It’s all James’ fault. He convinced me (admittedly, it didn’t take much convincing) to start a beer blog and, so, here we are. Honestly, I’d thought about having one before. I love trying new beers and making notes on them, and have for some time – turning this into An Official Thing really only made sense.

know-what-you-drink-by-drywell
“Know What You Drink” by drywell

We were out for lunch yesterday and, over a pint, we got to talking about writing and beer and art. I’m presently in Portland, OR, visiting James and a few other friends and I always enjoy the thriving craft beer culture out here. It’s different from the beer scene back in D.C. (which is fine, no judgment here) and feels somehow warm and personable. Maybe that’s just the Oregon way, though; I could swear that people here are just more friendly and polite than they are back home.

Anyway, our conversation turned to the intersection of art and writing and alcohol. Could I somehow hit all of these topics on a writing/beer blog, he asked. Well, I was sure willing to try. And so, a day later, here we are, writing our first post. This is the royal “we,” kids – Beerily Thus is a solo project. James can go get his own (still his) idea if he wants one!

My plan for this blog is straight forward (but plans often change, as we all know): beer reviews, discussions of art/alcohol cultures intersecting, art about beer, brewery reviews, etc. But if I’ve learned anything from my years of writing (and drinking) it is that things so very rarely go according to plan. Let’s just see, shall we?