Bridgeport Kingpin and Cafe Negro

This week Bridgeport released two new beers in six-packs and on tap:  Kingpin, a double red ale made with Liberty hops and 20% rye malt, and Cafe Negro, a coffee porter made with Sumatran beans from Pearl District roasters World Cup Coffee.  It appears Kingpin will be a regular part of the Bridgeport lineup, forming a royal alliance with Hop Czar to move the brewery a little more towards hoppy Northwest tastes and away from its British-inflected roots.  Cafe Negro is rolling out under the same bar code as Ebeneezer, so it will be out until at least next fall, but it might have to yield to the seasonal at that time.

Recently-promoted brewmaster Jeff Edgerton showed off the beers at a debut dinner at the Bridgeport Pub Monday night, and we were given some bottles to take home.  I've been doling some of my stash out to the neighbors to get their opinions:  both beers are well-received, but so far the favorite is the Kingpin.  It's nicely hopped, a very well-balanced beer, and much drier than other NW Reds, which I usually think of as being very malty and chewy.   At 7.5%, it's nearly as strong as Hop Czar, and definitely on the high end of NW Reds -- most are under 6%, and even the burly Ninkasi Believer is under 7% -- so maybe that's where the maltiness has gone.  The rye is very subtle.  At first I was going to say I couldn't tell what it contributed at all, but now that I let a glass of Kingpin warm up I think I'm getting just a little rye tanginess in the finish.  I'd like to see Jeff do a batch for the pubs without the rye so we could all geek out on what the rye does to the beer.

I said that Kingpin is the favorite amongst the neighbors, but Cafe Negro got a couple of votes also, and I predict that I'll end up drinking more of it than the Kingpin.  It's very drinkable, and a not-too-punishing 5.5% ABV.  The dominant flavor is coffee -- not too surprising -- over a smooth, light-bodied porter.  There's no hop bitterness to speak of, and the dark malt doesn't give any kind of burnt flavor.

My inner cheapskate is happy about Bridgeport launching these new beers in the economical six-pack format, instead of in inefficiently-priced bombers that are so common right now (Widmer also deserves mention as a brewery that sends their trial balloons up in reasonably-priced sixers).  I think they were happy with Hop Czar's six-pack success and wanted to give the new offerings a leg up.  The six-packs of Kingpin bear a goofy motto:  Feared by Some, Cheered by Many, but I like the way the Kingpin label twits Bud/Miller/Coors:  notice the Bud-like crown on top of the thumbtack logo on the pint glass, and the incantation "Triple Hopped", which tiptoes around Miller-Coors' trademarked "Triple Hops Brewed".

Jeff mentioned that the directive to come up with a couple new six-packable beers had come from Bridgeport's parent company Gambrinus.  The choice of styles was left up to Jeff, but Gambrinus owner Carlos Alvarez did suggest the coffee angle -- as Jeff put it, he said "Hey, you guys have all this good coffee up there, and I like coffee, how about some kind of coffee beer?".  When the boss gives a hint like that, it's a good idea to pay attention, and maybe you should even name the beer in his mother tongue.  Jeff did say that the Four Loko brouhaha gave them some sleepless nights this fall as Oregon and Washington considered banning caffeinated alcoholic beverages just as they were about to unveil Cafe Negro.  Hey, at least they didn't name it Moko Loko.

Speaking of Gambrinus, I know there are those who grumble about corporate ownership of homegrown breweries, but I will forever be grateful to Gambrinus for rescuing Shiner from imminent demise in the late eighties.  The company seems to be handling Bridgeport well also; hopefully its backing and creativity will prevent Bridgeport from meandering down the dreary roads that MacTarnahan's and Pyramid seem to be stuck on.

Check out the new brews when you get a chance.  I think they're a welcome addition to the Bridgeport lineup.

Mikkeller Beer Geek Brunch Weasel

A few weeks ago at Belmont Station I tried Mikkeller's Beer Geek Breakfast Stout for the first time and really enjoyed it, even during the nighttime.  So when I saw that Portland bottle shops were getting bottles of the over-the-top variant called Beer Geek Brunch Weasel, I went ahead and splurged for one. I've always wanted to be able to say I've tried the expensive Vietnamese coffee that was picked out of civet cat droppings, but it was unlikely that I would overcome my cheapness enough to ever buy even a cup of the coffee. Beer is another matter, and I set my parsimony aside to be able to try this rare beer made with rare coffee.

It turns out to be quite a different beer than the Breakfast Stout -- about 50% stronger at 11% -- but still with that smooth oatmeal stout goodness, pleasantly medium-bodied despite its strength. The coffee flavor is strong but not overwhelming; in fact as you roll it around in your mouth there's a very nice chocolate flavor, quite a bit of hop bitterness, and an earthy sweetness that had me thinking maple. I knew maple wasn't quite the right way to describe it, and now that I've read a few Beer Advocate reviews of Weasel which mention "dark fruit", I realize that "prune" would be a good description if prunes had a better reputation, so I better say "dried plum". Split between three people, it made a nice after-dinner beer.

If you don't know much about Mikkeller, it's a one-man brewing operation... without a brewery. His brews are done on an itinerant basis at fine breweries around Europe and the U.S. The Beer Geek line of stouts is done at Norwegian brewery Nøgne Ø, whose awesome imperial stouts and porters are available in bottles around town. As near as I can tell, Nøgne Ø is pronounced "Nerg-nuh Er" (maybe it's "Nern-yuh Er" -- anyone know for sure?).

Does the special weasel-excrement coffee make a difference? Mikkel the brewer admits that -- while the coffee is excellent -- it's something of a gimmick to use it instead of some other good coffee. Next time I have a hankering for a Mikkeller coffee stout, I'll probably go with the cheaper Breakfast Stout. The Weasel price is about one and a half times that of the Breakfast; there's no denying it's a more complex beer, but I don't think I got 1.5 times the enjoyment out of it. And speaking of costly gimmicks, there are even two bottlings of Weasel that were aged for awhile in Scotch whisky barrels. I doubt I'd pay the ransom for one of those bottles even if I had the chance, but I admire the audacity.

Weasels and beer, where have I heard that before? Oh yes, a couple of friends in Austin called their homebrewing operation Weasel Breweries long before any of us had heard of coffee that came from the wrong end of a weasel. Trendsetters? Or just too much time on their hands?

San Francisco vs. Portland

While waiting in line at the Rooftop Coffee Bar at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art earlier this week, I couldn't help but overhear a young lady nearby ranting about -- of all things -- how pretentious Stumptown Coffee is. She was talking to a somewhat older gentleman -- her father? her art professor? -- and seemed particularly offended that Stumptown's cafes serve French-pressed coffee instead of drip coffee. "Of course," she added with disgust, "Stumptown is from the most pretentious city I've ever been in: Portland."

Interesting.  She's enjoying a visit to a museum that currently exhibits not just one rectangular painting of a uniform gray but also a second such work, yet she thinks coffee presses are pretentious. Not to mention the fact that the Blue Bottle cafe we were standing in serves an espresso drink designed by kitsch-meister Jeff Koons, whose porcelain Michael Jackson is also on display at SFMOMA. I mean no disrespect to the museum or the art world, but isn't irony delicious? As I stood there pretentiously sporting my Hawthorne Bridge T-shirt, I turned to ask the Stumptown hater, "Portland is more pretentious than San Francisco?". "Well," she replied, "it certainly has a higher ratio of pretentious to non-pretentious people."

Oh well, Portland will always have its detractors. In fact, the girl at the art museum reminded me in a way of cranky Portland beer blogger Dr. Wort, though instead of finding us too pretentious, he thinks things are too sloppy here, and he pines for the more refined San Francisco beer scene he experienced as a lucky denizen of the Bay Area. Though conceding that SF has a relatively small number of breweries and brewpubs, the Doc fondly remembers them as places where -- this is a quote -- "the gastronomic delights abound". It's tempting to pick apart the doctor's fawning over some California places that he would excoriate for their blandness if they magically appeared here in Portland, but I think I better get on with my own report of this week's trip to San Francisco.

It was a family vacation, so there weren't any late nights or beer-soaked days, but Carla and I made it out to a few beer places. Sunday evening we swooped down on our San Fran man Andy, who hiked us from his apartment to Zeitgeist and then Toronado, neither of which I had been to before. Toronado was smashing -- an interesting, well-rounded selection of draft beers, reasonably priced. It's got a little bit of a dive bar feel to it, in the sense that you could sit there in the dark and be perfectly at ease. The place is famed for bartenders with attitude, but I thought the service was good, and they even forgave me a faux pas when I accidentally slammed my empty glass down on the zinc bar with a loud bang. The delicious cheap sausages from Rosamunde's next door were the icing on the cake. Kind of ridiculous I'd never been to Toronado; now I'll make sure and get there every time I'm in the city.

On the other hand, Zeitgeist was a disappointment. In his recent report on San Francisco, Ezra said Zeitgeist has about 40 taps, but Sunday at least 25 of those were blown -- the Sierra Nevada Imperial Stout blew with my order. My wife only gets IPAs anymore, and there wasn't a single IPA or even Pale Ale left when we were there. She ended up with a so-so amber called Poppy Jasper from El Toro. The Zeitgeist beer garden is set up pretty nicely, but it was way too crowded. We found a vacant place to sit, but had to wait awhile for the empties from the previous occupants to be bussed, and forget about a rag to wipe the table. Of the 500 people in the yard, 350 were smoking cigarettes and another 25 were openly smoking pot. I've got no particular beef with those activities, but it wasn't our scene.

On other nights we made it out to 21st Amendment and the Thirsty Bear, both walkable from our Market Street hotel. It had been a few years since I'd been to 21A, so I was glad to get the chance, but the taplist was a little disappointing -- IPA, Amber, Red, Light Golden, Watermelon Wheat... ho hum. The Smoked Imperial Porter was the standout, though it bore a cruel California price tag of $7 for 10 ounces, plus tax. Of course Carla went with the IPA, and it was very tasty -- the hop aroma would remind you of orange blossoms or apricots. The food we tried was quite decent, if a little spendy for what it was -- a brick-oven pizza and a loaded cheeseburger (no tater tots).

We didn't try any entrees at the Thirsty Bear, but the oysters with avocado granita and sea salt were brilliant. I enjoyed the abbey-style Belgian ales (one golden, one "amber") that were on as seasonals, although we found the cask IPA to be a little humdrum. It's an odd place -- they get a lot more business from the convention center nearby than from any kind of regular local crowd. It's worth a visit if you're in the area.

I realize that this post meandered around quite a bit, and might not have all that much to do with the headline. For me the main beer lessons of this trip were: first, Toronado goes a long way toward redeeming the sparsity of San Francisco's beer scene; second, be it ever so pretentious, there's no place like home.