Microbrewed Adventures - Charles Papazian [15]
I often wonder why microbrewing and homebrewing seem to be one of life’s frequently celebrated endeavors, an endeavor that often prompts the best from individuals. Every day thousands of brewers leave small, unrewarded messages in each and every drop of beer they make. “Relax. Don’t worry. Have my beer.” “I love you.” “I respect you.” “I appreciate that you enjoy my beer.” “You are simply the best.” “Thank you.”
Irish French Ale in the High Country
George Killian’s Irish Red
FALLING IN LOVE in France. A desire to marry and relocate to America. The relatives from Ireland who must grant permission. An impassioned relationship; a contract with the parents in Ireland and those that had kept her in France. Moving to America. Arrival. Culture shock. How to introduce her to friends? At first adhering to her origins, she slowly evolves and eventually becomes more American than she is French or Irish. In middle age, she is ignored, shelved for younger passions, but she still survives. Her roots have been misplaced, lost. But her pride persists; she is nominally supported and enjoys an active life as the unknown horizon of twilight approaches.
IT HAS all the intrigue of a movie romance. It began as a passionate love affair in the late 1970s and early 1980s with Irish Red Ale, brewed in France by the Pellforth Brewing Company, which had a license agreement with the Irish company George Killian Lett Brewing Company. Visiting France, Peter Coors of the Coors Brewing Company discovered this wonderfully complex red ale and considered how to brew it in America and successfully introduce it to American beer drinkers. He pursued his company’s interest in the ale.
The years of intrigue and initial development were from about 1980 to 1982. During that period I was fortunate enough to be given a 250 ml bottle of George Killian’s Irish Red Ale, brewed at the Pellforth brewery. It was a marvelously complex ale with only subtle fruitiness but with big notes of nuttiness and toasted malt, balanced with hop character. Not overly bitter, it was smooth with quite a bit of drinkability. I recall a hint of floral aroma, perhaps from French countryside hops.
Its new home in America necessitated a makeover for the American public. In the early 1980s the pilot brewery at Coors occupied a relatively small space of about 5,000 square feet. Batch sizes were also small, at about 40 barrels. At the time, the brewery was producing over 15 million barrels of Coors, Coors Light and Herman Joseph. The Coors pilot brewery was the largest of the half-dozen microbreweries that existed in 1981.
I had earlier been introduced to the pilot brewery’s head pilot brewer, Gil Ortega. One of the charges of the pilot brewery was product development. When homebrewers were invited to stop by and assess their experiments with “Killian’s Red Ale,” we jumped at the opportunity.
When given creative choices, most brewers who call themselves masterbrewers will jump at the opportunity to develop new products. The spirit of beer passion was certainly evident in this tiny section of the Coors brewing factory.
There were many test batches, trying different malt types with varying degrees of toasting. At first different ale yeasts were used, producing full-flavored