gose Archives – Page 2 of 2 – PorchDrinking.com
ABV: 4.2% | IBU: 5
In another week, The Unknown Brewing Co. is shipping Bright Ass Tank Top to distributors. I can’t help but think this 4.1% ABV Key lime gose is an ode to the fleeting summer. In a preemptive response to the question of “what’s with the name?”, Andrea Glagow, marketing manager for The Unknown Brewing Co., wrote “… no reason. It’s the end of summer. Rock it until the end. Sun’s out, Gun’s out.”
It’s been well-documented over the past couple of years that fruit is taking over the beer scene. There is tons of watermelon beer, a handful of pineapple beer, a gaggle of mango beer, a plethora of blueberry beer… you get the idea. But didn’t we learn that healthy eating is about your fruits AND your vegetables?! All too often, a vegetable taste or smell in beer is because of a brewing error. Not to get too technical or sciencey, but it has to do with dimethyl sulfides dissolving back into the cooling wort, or even a rogue bacteria getting into the brew, and it can create a corn, cabbage or sauerkraut taste and smell. But when vegetables are done purposefully, and done well, it opens up a whole new category of beer awesomeness.
Alas, it is Friday. Despite the extended holiday weekend, I’m sure this week dragged on for most given the inevitable hangover we all tackled on Tuesday. Fear not, beer lovers. This weekend is chock-full of beer and good times. Here’s …
You have finally reached your campsite after hiking 20 miles over rugged terrain with all of your gear on your back. A heavy band of sweat clings to your head as you finally drop your pack and begin to set up your shelter. Once you’ve eaten and settled in for the night, you reach into your pack and pull out a beer. Beer might not be as essential as food, water, shelter or clothing, but, in your modest camp, it’s nothing short of a luxury.
Since the most important criterion of a backpacking beer is portability, every beer on this list will be canned. Cans are much lighter than glass and don’t require you to pack a bottle-opener. You also do not run the risk of a can breaking and leaving dangerous shards all over the campsite. Last but not least, aluminum conducts heat faster than glass, which means they’ll get cold faster when you stick them in a creek. There are many to choose from, but, if you ask me, these are the best summer backpacking beers.
Over the past few summers, goses and Berliner-weisses have been popping up like crazy. Since I have a deep-seated love of all things sour, I’ve been loving the barrage of tart beers that have been hitting the market …
Goses are now a staple for bottle shops across the country as the American craft beer market has embraced their tart, refreshing taste. The style’s availability is at the point where you can breakdown what goses you will find from state-to-state. I’ve seen Victory’s Kirsch Gose and Devils Backbone’s Cran-Gose in several places but until today, Gose Gone Wild was the one elusive gose I’ve been unable to acquire. My guess is that with the name Westbrook attached, it’s very attractive to the beer sharing community as the original Westbrook Gose is.
Last summer was my introduction to the gose style, and my first one was Anderson Valley’s Blood Orange Gose (also a beer I highly recommend). I immediately became a fan, and started seeking out others in the gose style. That soon led me to another from Anderson Valley, the Briney Melon Gose. At the time, it was only available in bombers, but this year they started distributing it in six-pack cans… and we’re all better off because of it. With a fun, easy-drinking summer beer like this, cans that you can throw in a cooler and take to a barbecue to share with friends are the only way to go.
We’d been searching for Sierra Nevada Brewing Company’s newest release Otra Vez since we first saw it advertised on Beer Advocate. A Gose with prickly pear and grapefruit sounded like an amazing way to break up the past few months of winter warmers. After contacting liquor stores for weeks we finally were able to track a six pack down.
Sierra Nevada adds a new beer to their lineup, South Korea embraces craft beer, basketball players discuss homebrew, and one of the biggest and baddest beers (no, I’m not talking about Bourbon County Stout) returns to the market. Read all this and more in the Weekly Growler Fill!
I have a secret. I can’t stop buying Boulevard’s Hibiscus Gose. My hands keep grabbing the cardboard box the sixer comes in. I’ve bought three so far. I can’t control it. Hey, Boulevard, why don’t I just direct deposit part of my paycheck to you?
Ahh, the Gose (goes). Or is it Gose (go-say)? It’s actually Gose (go-suh), preferably pronounced with a nice German gutteral G. An old style originating from Leipzig, Germany, the gose is named after the river Gose in Lower Saxony. Light, tart and refreshing, this style is the only one brewed with salted water, and traditionally contains coriander. Seeing goses hit the shelves and appear on draft is as much a sign of Spring as budding flowers and bright green leaves on trees. This style also makes for an excellent shower beer.
Our first taste of Almanac beer occurred this year at Great American Beer Fest when we were conveniently pouring samples across from their booth. We were immediately intrigued when we realized that they featured several dynamically flavored sours and featured one of our favorite slogans: “Farm to Barrel.”
ABV: 4.2% | IBU: 11
I have a secret. I can’t stop buying Boulevard’s Hibiscus Gose. It’s been in Atlanta just a few days, and my hands keep grabbing the cardboard box the sixer comes in. I’ve bought three so far. I can’t control it. Hey, Boulevard, why don’t I just direct deposit part of my paycheck to you?
Döllnitzer Ritterguts Gose
I think I’m biased against ‘summer beers.’ I don’t dislike them on philosophical grounds: I love a good Helles, and summer Sundays practically beg for <5% brews in an ice bucket (when they beg for brews at all). But the beers of summer tend to attract gimmicks that I don’t especially like, and that information informs my opinion – fair or not. Every summer I find myself surfing the chilly beer cave of a local packie, mentally un-checking more bottles than I’ve dismissed in the past eight months. Sunflower label? No. Hoppy wheat? No. Apple Crisp whatever? Uh, no.
Arcane-looking German fellow with a tophat…?? Check-a-roo.