Page 39 - April 2016

with Cody V. Burkett
illustration By Kris Pothier
I have learned something important about myself lately, and that is while I love wine, and it is easy for me to wax poetical on it, it is really hard for me to talk about beer. I think it’s because of how I approach the two beverages. Martin Luther once said, “Beer is made by man, wine is made by God,” and it just so happens that’s about the only aspect of his theology I agree with. wine, I approach as I do my religion. It is to be savored, gazed at, prayed to, and
contemplated deeply. It is the blood of the earth, the tears of the sun, and speaks of the land. It nourishes both my mind and my soul.
Beer? Beer is generally something I drink when I want some alcohol and don’t want to think too hard about life. (sorry Beer Captain; love you Beer Captain). To me, beer is something that speaks less of the land from which it’s made, and more about the folk who make it, and the folk who drink it. It is like bread — a good staple that nourishes the body — and perhaps it’s time I start approaching it differently. so with that in mind I set out for Four-Eight Wineworks in Clarkdale to find a beer I’ve never had before in order to expand my palate.
when I got in, Jesse Peterson, who was working behind the bar, poured me a glass of Fire in the Sky, a beer that was a collaboration between Fire Mountain Winery (John Scarbrough) and Dark Sky Brewing Company (Nick Irvine and Ryan Sandlin). As he poured, he said, “It’s a saison-style beer that underwent a second fermentation on zinfandel must, and was aged in chardonnay barrels.”
“where was the zinfandel must from? It was aged in a chardonnay barrel? For how long?” I asked, as he placed the glass in front of me.
“The zinfandel was from santa Margharita vineyards in California, and it was aged in a barrel for four months.”
“Cool,” said I. “Hey, wait, what the heck is a saison? what does saison mean?”
“It’s a Belgian style beer, but ... I don’t entirely know. Let’s look it up,” replied Jesse. so we did. I badgered him with more questions as we scoured the lands of wikipedia for answers. Apparently, the name for this beer style comes from the French word for season, and was served in the summer as refreshment for wine makers — which makes sense, as I noticed the beer wasn’t super spicy on the nose. Instead, it smelled vaguely fruity and floral at first sniff, like a basket of cherry blossoms and irises with a few fresh cherries thrown in for completeness. I also noticed additional slight hints of citrus peel and hops.
“Apparently these were made to serve to farm workers who were entitled to five liters a day,” Jesse commented.
“I can see why, it smells like it would be refreshing. what would make this different from a Belgian saison? And why undergo a second ferment? Is that normal for this style of beer? ” I asked. “Cody, you are really bothering me. I love you, but stop asking me questions and drink
your damn beer already.”
so I shut up and drank, and I found it to be delicious. I could easily envision why this style
of wine would be great after a long day working the harvest in the warm september sun of Belgium. The palate of this beer is much fruitier than I’d expect, and not at all sour like I was worried from my previous limited experience with Belgian-style beers. There are rich plum and cherry notes which I can only assume were imparted by the zinfandel must during the second fermentation. There’s also what I can only describe as malt notes, or something like wheat or rye bread, with citrus peel again. Fire in the Sky has a nice, pleasant acidity on the finish, reminding me of one of my favorite summer white wines, vermentino. The finish of this beer lasts for 34 seconds. (And for the record, double-fermentation is not normal for saison, but it is pretty normal for those with grape components.)
If this beer were a person, I’m pretty sure it would be a busty brunette Belgian, tossing hay- bales over her shoulder on a hot summer’s day. not knowing how this beer compares to its Belgian brethren, I can’t really comment on what this says about the souls of the intrepid duo that made it, other than “Good job, guys.” You’ve ruined beer for me, since I found out that when I think on a beer, I can enjoy it more, just like with my wines. Darn, guess I’ll have to move on to rye whiskey for a drink whenever I want to exist in a pleasantly mindless state. Ah well. Bottoms up, brethren!
| Cody v. Burkett wishes everyone a happy April Fool’s day, and reminds you all that because beer is bread, it’s entirely lenten. cody@thenoise.us
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APRIL 2016 • 39