Surly Brett Mikkel’s IPA

I have a backlog of beer to write about.

I know that one’s palate is at its best first thing in the morning, but I don’t like to do my tasting during the day. Call me a bad Cicerone (registered trademark). I’ll accept the criticism.

It’s just that I don’t like to dump good beer. I don’t want to drink a whole beer early because it makes me sleepy. I have work to do all day and it’s hard enough to stay awake in the afternoon without that. That means dumping. I already dump a lot of beer just because I open so many bottles when I do a big tasting. I’d like to keep that to a minimum.

The problem is that I’m busy at night. I’m not home to drink it then. There are gigs, events, and relationships to try and maintain. Oh, and roller derby practice. I never drink before I skate. If I take a hit and break a leg, that’s one thing. If I break a leg because I skated drunk, that’s another thing entirely. And shameless plug, the Rollergirls’ championship bout is this Saturday!

And so, I have a backlog of beer to write about.

I’m going to try and make a dent in it.

Todd Haug at Surly Brewing Company has been doing a lot of collaborating of late – mostly it seems with brewers of Scandinavian persuasion. The latest is Brett Mikkel’s IPA, brewed in collaboration with Danish, gypsy brewer Mikkel Bjergsø of Mikkeller fame. We used to get Mikkeller beers in Minnesota. Now we don’t. This collaboration with Surly gives us a chance to get another taste.

Brett Mikkel is an American IPA fermented with that “wild” yeast strain Brettanomyces. Anathema to winemakers – it makes wine taste like poop – Brettanomyces has been embraced by brewers. In beer it does magical things – pineapple, cherries, leather, and barnyard (that’s kind of like poop…but in a good way).

Brett, as it is fondly called, was first isolated in the porters of London. Aged for long periods in large, wooden vats, they came by it naturally. Brett and other critters lived in the wood. Fresh beer was called “mild.” The aged stuff that had seen time in wood was called “stale.” Stale beer was the good stuff. You paid top dollar – or maybe shilling – for it. It’s no wonder brewers of today have brought it back.

Here’s my notes:

Brett Mikkel's IPABrett Mikkel’s IPA
Surly Brewing Company, Minneapolis, MN
Style: American IPA Fermented with Brettanomyces
Serving Style: 750 ml bottle
7.5% ABV

Aroma: Brettanomyces character dominates. Pineapple and barnyard. High phenolic. Medium overtones of citrus and horse urine (but in a good way). Low alcohol. Very low impression of sweetness. Low, neutral-grainy malt.

Appearance: Full, creamy, off-white foam with excellent retention. Deep gold and clear.

Flavor: Medium sweetness with high Brettanomyces character and bitterness. Brett brings pineapple esters and barnyard phenols. Very low electrical fire. Faint impression of acid tartness. Medium-high bitterness, enhanced by phenolic character. Citrus hops give high notes – tangerine, grapefruit slice, and tomato vine. Malt is faint, neutral grain. Finish is dry with lingering bitterness, barnyard phenol, and citrus. As it warms the fruit continues to bloom – juicy pineapple and citrus.

Mouthfeel: Medium body. Medium-high carbonation.

Overall Impression: Brett character comes on strong in this. I love Brett beers, but the phenolic flavors in this bottle are verging on too much. More Brett ester is needed to balance the barnyard. And that comes as it warms, so don’t drink it too cold. I recall the draft pint I had being fruitier. I wonder if the keg and bottle versions have developed differently. I have seen that happen. I do like it though. I’m happily drinking this and would have more.

Mikkeller Big Worse

Breweries these days are finding all sorts of interesting ways to do business. Nano-scale, alternating proprietorships, and taproom-only sales are all part of the brewery landscape. These business models allow a brewery open with minimal up-front capital or to reap the full profit from every pint sold.

Contract brewing is also still very much a part of the picture; a brand-holding company paying another brewery to make their product. It’s a controversial practice that has fierce adherents on both sides, who fling arguments both pro and con. Are these entities actually breweries? Are they just leeches trying to cash in on the boom without making the commitment – both financial and physical – to the cause? Whatever you think, the practice is here to stay and it’s here in a big way. You probably drink and love many contract-brewed beers without even knowing it.

The controversy spills over to the alternating proprietorship arrangement in which two or more fully-licensed entities share a brewing facility. Although each one is responsible for their own label approval, ingredient procurement, tax reckoning, and all the other nitty-gritty of running a brewery, in some cases all of the beer is actually brewed by only one of them. Often one of the breweries isn’t even on site when the beer is made.  It may even be headquartered in another state. Aren’t these really just contract brewers? Or is this really something else?

And what are we to make of gypsy brewers, also called tenant brewers. Beer makers like Pretty Things Beer and Ale Project, Mikkeller, and Minnesota’s own Blacklist Brewing have no physical brewery. They move from place to place, making different beers at each one. In the case of Mikkeller, these landlord breweries are spread out all over the world. The idea of migrant brewing sounds romantic. I have even heard Mikkeller praised for the practice. But doesn’t this make Mikkeller just another contract brewer? Does that even matter if the beer is good?

Here’s my notes:

Mikkeller Big WorseBig Worse
Mikkeller at De Proef Brouwerij, Lochristi-Hufte, Belgium
Style: Barleywine
Serving Style: 12.7 oz. bottle

Aroma: Round and rich caramel malt. Pleasant, floral alcohol cuts through the caramel sweetness. Hop aroma is low to none. Some sherry-like oxidative notes. Underneath, smells of vanilla custard and candied oranges add depth. Three Cs – custard, caramel, and candied oranges.

Appearance: Full head of creamy, ivory foam. Very good retention. Mahogany red and clear.

Flavor: Flavors very much follow the aroma, with gentle hop bitterness and citrusy hop flavors thrown into the mix. Caramel malt and fruity esters lead – those candied oranges again. A sweep of bitterness rolls in shortly thereafter to keep the sweetness in check, but with a delicate touch. The buttery caramel makes a comeback at the roof of the mouth, joined by bright notes of citrus –lemons – as well as some darker fruits – dates.  Alcohol is in there too, perhaps a tad intrusive. The beer goes out semi-dry with lingering bitterness and oranges.

Mouthfeel: Medium-full body – remarkably light for 12% ABV. Carbonation is medium-low. Creamy. Warming.

Overall Impression: The luscious aromatics draw me in, beckoning me to sip. But I just want to keep smelling. The palate is rewarded by that sip, though. This is a remarkably drinkable 12% brew. Light almost. Neither clinging like some strong English barleywines, nor tongue scraping like many of their American counterparts.