I Heart Deesko

When it comes to beer, Germany is THE WORST, aber ich lieben sie immer noch*

The Berliner Weisse style typifies the discombobulation that is contemporary German beer culture.  As made evident by previous posts of German brews, I have made an effort to connect with brewing, drinking, and my own personal heritage. I have been doing a lot of digging into the beer of my mother country, since a cultural bastard has to pick which parent he spends Christmas with, right?  I had this utopian idea of German beer.  German styles are a part of American beer vernacular, but in Germany, the Lager Revolution in the early 1800's killed 99% of German styles.  The US and Germany suffer from the same problem, massive overcapacity has led to a cut throat supermarket beer industry where the cheapest beer wins.  I could go on and on about the ills plaguing the modern German beer culture, but there is one major difference that leads to my frustration: Germany hasn't had a mircobrew revolution...yet.

Germany has about 1200 breweries in a country with the same land mass as Montana.  There is only ONE brewery that brews and bottles the Berliner Weisse syle of beer.  ONE.  Yes, Berliner Weisse is like Trappist ale and Kölsch in that it is protected by the AOC and can only legally be brewed in Berlin, but Berlin is not a small place.  I need both hands to count on where I can locally find a Berliner Weisse.  There's always been discussion about the pedestal of quality German beers sit on.  The Reinheitsgebot and an inflated sense of importance have led to a severe lack of introspection.  It is unfathomable to think that Americans have helped unearth Germany's mythical old styles and brought them to the forefront of the US beer culture.

So here enters the American brewery, Three Floyd's, with their Berliner Weisse, I <3 Deesko.  Traditionally, Berliner Weissse is served with a shot of raspberry syrup (ein Rotes), a shot of woodruff syrup (ein Grünes), or any other flavored syrup (mit Schuss).  At their brewery, Three Floyd's carries on this tradition as well, a tradition that is definitely warranted.

This "sour" is not for the uninitiated.  I personally would not call Berliner Weisse a sour.  It is a tart ale, but a sour, ehh debatable.  Napolean called it the "champagne of the north."  He also said, "Woman are nothing but machines for producing children," so take his word at face value.  I <3 Deesko took the tart aspect and ran with it, stripping this yeasty Weisse away of it's fruit and effervescence into a death metal scream of sour punch.

Which I am definitely okay with.

The strong sour and apple vinegar, lemon peel notes from this brew push it more to the Gueuze Lambic side of tart beers (See my previous post about those delicious Belgian Sours).  That and it smelled like a sweaty hobo, to which Professor Beer responded with, "You have experience in that?"...maybe, but nose, mouthfeel, and clairty aside, the yaup of the sour beast of pestilence and doom turned this light summer beer to 11.

Which, again, I am definitely okay with.

With "Freigeist Bierkultur (Free spirit Beer Culture)" bucking the Reinheitsgebot and pulling pages from their Belgian neighbors and American beer anarchy, there is momentum.  For the new wave of German brewers to be successful, they face the same problems independent brewers did by convincing consumers that premium beers are worth the extra cost, as well as dealing with, or working with competition from the traditional Brauhaus and nano-breweries that litter Fanconia and communities throughout Germany.

If I were to rate this as a Berliner Weisse, I would give it a 2, but as an American Sour, I would totally make this the 4th Horseman of the Sourpocalypse

*Caveat: I realize this statement and some of the tone makes me sound like an elitist asshole.  Some of which I will own up to and some may be do to slight hyperbole as part of my narrative and sardonic wit.  I don't dislike Germans or their beer history to which most of the world stands on, its just that the punk in me is just frustrated that a country with such a rich history of brewing is stymied the same way Americans are.  I don't want to alienate German readers, but put down that Beck's and let's talk this out, brah.

The Big Guy: Damn I love this beer. El Duque said a lot... so DAMN I LOVE THIS BEER. Probably going to get into my favorites of the year.








Professor Beer:  Unfortunately I wasn't able to catch this beer on tap at Three Floyds (with the syrups), but I was able to grab a few bottles.  To me it tasted more like a traditional sour than a Berliner Weisse, but either way it was great.

Not your Oude-anary Sour

I like my sours like I like my women, tart, with a champagne bottle and Belgian.

Sours, just like the rest of the beer world, are defined heavily by their region.  Belgian brewing history is written in tapestries on Trappist walls.  It is time honored and damned good, and has hordes of nerdy middle aged men hiring private investigators to find them bottles of that perfect trappist ale.  Nerds.

I never caught that bug.

But Belgian sours caught me.  Like the kid in your fourth grade class doing lines of crushed up smarties off his Hardy Boys books, I can't stop quaffing these tart punches to the palate.

I emphasize BELGIAN sours.  American breweries dipped into the styles popularity in around 2006, and as Americans do, messed with the formulas to create some stunning mouth twisters, and some horrific palate ruiners.

The popular Oudes (OOh-duh) fall into two categories: Oude Gueuze (OOh-duh Gyooze) and Oude Kriek (OOh-duh Creek).  Oude is the Dutch word for old, and yes I know this is a Belgian beer, it's not my fault they can't figure out what language to speak.  Old is in reference to the process.  Young (1 year) lambic is mixed with old (2-3 year lambic) for a second fermentation.  The young lambics still have some fermentable sugars, which is why a second fermentation is possible.

If you leave it at that, you have the Oude Gueuze.  When sour cherries are added to the second fermentation, you have the Oude Kriek.

Two delicious beers that make love to your tongue in ways that would make Al Green blush.

I will be reviewing the two oudes made by Oud Beersel, a brewery that has been in operation since 1882 and specializing in lambics.  In 2005, it was bought from the original family and revitalized into an award winning brewery that carries on the lambic tradition.  Are there better?  Yes, but if this is your first forays into these sour lambics, you can't beat the price for the outstanding consistency and quality that Oud Beersel puts out.

Oude Gueuze: 
Once you get past the apple vinegar odor and fruit fly flash back nightmares, this beer is powerfully tasty.

It pours a cloudy amber gold with a frothy head and energetic carbonation that expends itself fast.  This beer moves through your palate and splashes it with a variety of flavors.  Green Granny Smith apples and some Golden Delicious pop up here and there too.  As the sourness sets in, it transitions into more of an apple peel and lemon taste.  It settles more sour than it started, but just remember, it's gonna be strongly sour throughout.

It finished with that malty bread/farmhouse cheese funk and grass.  I know that sounds weird, but all the flavors so far are earthy, so the wild yeast tang makes sense in this brew.

The mouthfeel is light and dry and a light pucker, but this gueuze is smooth.

I liken this to a really dry, more sour cider.  You will have those strong fruits, but far more sour.  There are better Gueuze out there, but for the amount, the money, and the utter smoothness of this beer, you can't beat it.

Solid 4 foamy heads out of five

Oude Kriek:
This is definatly my go to oude kriek.  Unlike a lot of breweries these days that try to market an artisinal beer, yet add sugars to reduce the farmhouse taste of the wild yeast and cut through the powerful tart, this beer adds nothing but happiness to your life.

Like O.D.B., oooh baby I like it raw.

Which is obvious from the first strong odors of vinegar from the aged lambic.  If you aren't prepared, it will catch you off guard.

This is a good balance between sour and tart.  It's sweet and crisp.  The cherries are sharp and cut the usual farmhouse taste you can get from those wild yeasts.  

Oud Beersel boasts that their Kriek has 400 grams of cherries per liter.  Which in our Imperial measurement system means... there's a lot of cherries, but this is not a Cerise.  The cherries give it a deep foundation.  A subtle richness.  Velvet.

It ends with the French cheese grassy-ness that is associated with the wild yeasts in aged lambics.

This is a rich and balanced brew that would be a great way to add some variety to your palate, or act as a gateway to sours and aged lambics.  It's velvety and sexy, and oh so good.  I'd call it the Prince of the Kriek world, even without the assless cheetah print pants.

4.5 heads out of 5