On tap at Barcade, bustling amber-hazed wild ale retains mild honey-glazed crystal-malted creaming to contrast leathery brettanomyces yeast funk, dry barnyard earthiness and floral citrus tartness. Unexpectedly welcomed Band Aid-like beechwood smoking and salted peppercorn nuance coat lemony Granny Smith apple, pineapple, cherry, and grape souring. An engrossing ‘confluence’ of flavors that stay light on the tongue.
On tap at Barcade, rounded amber-hazed French-styled farmhouse ale (a.k.a. biere de garde) not far removed from dry saison styling. Spicy citric splendor caresses sweet honey-grained backdrop. Candi-sugared Belgian yeast influence enhances white grape, green grape, green apple, oaken cherry and white peach nuances as well as peppery clove-coriander restraint above parched earthen bottom. Its abstruse moniker, Fluxus, defined as ‘continuous change,’ precisely describes this busily flavored moderate body.
On tap at Barcade, ghoulish autumnal copper-hazed wild ale retains rustic brettanomyces souring from spontaneous yeast fermentation. Dry barnyard leathering backs initial apple-soured citric tartness. At midst, Halloween-bound pumpkin-seeded toasting pleats raw molasses bittering and lemony grains of paradise acidity, contrasting subsidiary honeyed malt sweetness.
On tap at Barcade, extremely dry sour ale brings leathery brettanomyces funk to tart citric-peeled white wining, arid oaken cherry acidity, and raw-honeyed vanilla extraction. Sharper hop bittering than brewers’ Vrienden may be drawback for anyone other than hardened hopheads.
On tap at Barcade, soft-tongued, orange-hazed, Belgian-styled pale ale retains citric-glazed rosemary-sage-thyme herbage and musty earthen nature. Tangy lemon-peeled orange glisten and carbolic hop-spiced tingle contrast dry black-peppered mustard-seeded lemongrass snip. Sour grape esters find room in the midst.
CRICKET HILL BOASTS ‘BEST BEER ON EARTH’
It’s truly fitting that Grateful Dead’s “Built To Last” would be playing on the radio as I make my initial visitation to Cricket Hill Brewing Company. Just a few weeks earlier, the Fairfield-based microbrewery had been temporarily shutdown due to the nasty flooding Hurricane Irene brought to the area. Happily, the decade-old warehouse housing Cricket Hill was spared from water damage.
“God must love beer,” owner Rick Reed proclaims over the phone just days earlier. “Everybody else got flooded so there’s this Fairfield camaraderie now. We’re creating beer energy.”
Nevertheless, there were some early problems to overcome when Cricket Hill tried opening its doors May 15th, 2001. The first major concern was almost a showstopper. Reed bought brewing equipment, set up operations and filed for a federal brewer’s permit, but the disastrous events of 9-11 slowed the filing process and Reed didn’t receive a permit until 2002. Meanwhile, he’s struggling to pay rent and electricity to no avail.
“My brewer at the time told me as long as we have all this downtime, let’s brew a lager instead of an ale. So we made East Coast Lager,” Reed recalls. “Most microbreweries won’t do lagers because it takes too long and uses up too much space. Flying Fish doesn’t do any, but we do three now.”
Before getting involved in the brewing game, Reed worked in the computer services industry finding help for companies hiring cheaper overseas labor. On his 10th wedding anniversary, he and wife Patti headed to Bermuda. While driving around on a scooter, they came across now-defunct Triangle Brewery.
“Triangle had some wonderful beers,” Reed admits. “We left there knowing I had to get involved with brewing. The owner was a New Jersey accountant and the brewer left Chicago when his wife dumped him. I got a nice severance package from my old company and never looked back.”
At the time, there were only five breweries in Jersey. And Reed believed he could help Coors-Bud-Miller swiggers make the transition to better easy-to-drink beers.
Reed contends, “We didn’t want to scare away macrobrew drinkers. Our philosophy was to create Step One beers. Our four flagship beers – East Coast Lager, Hopnotic I.P.A., Colonel Blides Altbier and Breakfast Ale were definitely approachable. We also felt Jersey may be a fickle market, but when it turns it’ll do so with a vengeance. We’re a huge market.”
By 2007, Reed received additional capital from retired financier, John Watts, whose self-proclaimed job description, ‘Reserve and Small Batch Inspector,’ barely scrapes the surface. His monetary contribution helped Cricket Hill acquire fermenters and packaging supplies. And yes, he did help expand the specialty line and Reserve Series.
Presently, Cricket Hill is the third largest state brewery behind Flying Fish and River Horse, brewing 2,000 barrels and 13,000 cases of beer per year. A Pittsburgh native weaned on Iron City Beer (a ho-hum libation nearly as metallic as its namesake), Reed got into Ballantine Ale in the early ‘70s. At the time, he was a hard-nosed American refusing to try imported beers. Many years later, New Jersey’s Waterloo Beerfest had some great beers and he wondered why everyone was not “drinking this stuff.” Though he can’t remember which beers he enjoyed, Reed soon attended the American Brewers Guild for online testing and a one-week training session in Sacramento. In fact, Reed started a recent 25-day intern program for novice brewers at Cricket Hill.
“It exposes apprentices to every angle of a little brewery, from filtering to cleanup. So far, we’ve had a dozen guys come and ten now have jobs in the industry. Two are at Magic Hat and some others are at Brooklyn, Dogfish Head, Weyerbacher and Alaska breweries. They leave here with such a wonderful foundation of knowledge people hire them as cellar men and assistant brewers. It’s not as intense training as the Brewers Guild, but we take on three people per month for direct training. Presently, we’re writing a course curriculum,” he acknowledges.
Though Cricket Hill doesn’t necessarily make designer beers, head brewer, Mehmet Kadiev (who left for J.J. Bittings during 2013), has definitely enlarged the palate of his aged-in-the-wool boss. Kadiev made his mark at Fayetteville, Arkansas’ respectable Hog House Brewing Company. But he pined to move back to his home state and soon took on head duties for Reed.
“I got the opportunity and was happy,” Kadiev tells me as I sample Cricket Hill Nocturne Dark Lager, a brown-sugared, cocoa-seeded, coffee-roasted delight with bitter hops submerging malt sweetness. “A huge part of brewing is consistency. Hop varieties change from season to season. I’m a Hophead who loves Imperial I.P.A.’s. I also enjoy Stone Sublimely Self-Righteous 11th Anniversary Ale. It’s a supposed black I.P.A., which is an oxymoron to call a pale beer ‘black.’ I’d rather call them India Black Ales.”
Besides crafting batches of best selling East Coast Lager, Kadiev’s brewing a Russian Imperial Stout and Porter set for the winter, both of which will also come in limited edition bourbon barrel versions.
While Reed may not have an overly expansive palate, he admits being pleasantly surprised by how well the Reserve Series has been.
“The bourbon barleywine I could drink all night long. I love bourbon.” He adds, “You learn to have this appreciation for home brewers. It’s a lot of fun and a big adventure. The craft beer industry is truly a blast. I don’t have a very good critical palate. I just go by flavors without picking up certain illusions. Do I like or dislike it?”
So far, all Reed’s beers are made to the strict specifications of Germany’s purity law, which states only water, barley, hops, and yeast are used.
“I’m a purist,” Reed insists. “That’s not to say we won’t add seasoning. We never have. But one of our small batches may utilize that.”
Draft-only small batch brews such as Cricket Hill Belgian Dubbel have already knocked the sox off some Asbury Park Beerfest patrons I drank with in early October.
As we leave Reed’s office and return to the brew room, the two of us settle into a bottled version of Cricket Hill Bourbon Barleywine, the 500th brew made here at their busy 3,000 square foot facility. A heavenly elixir a tad softer than typical oak-aged barleywines, its chewy caramel malting and prickled hop spicing lead a parade of vanilla, pecan pie, chocolate cake, butterscotch, marzipan and coconut illusions.
Like a rugged old codger, Reed likes to tell tall tales to unsuspecting customers. If you’re speculating about Cricket Hill’s chirpy moniker, he’ll tell you one of three stories.
“I tell ‘em when the Germans came over the first commercial hop farm in Saranac was named Cricket Hill. That’s a lie.” He continues, “The second is Australians drink more beer per capita than any country and the game of cricket could last for days and the blokes drinking blue collar beers sit on Cricket Hill. That’s true. But the real story is my Boonton-based 1753 farmhouse had a barn we wanted to convert into a tavern but got denied permission.”
Furthermore, Reed’s Hilarious Brew Plant Tour Speech on Youtube (given at most Friday night 5 to 7 PM tasting tours) is extremely entertaining. Amongst other goodies, Reed defiantly alleges, “You have been brainwashed since you were children to believe there’s nothing else to drink than Miller-Coors. They think we’re stupid!”
On my second sojourn to Cricket Hill on Veteran’s Day in November, Reed gives a different rant at the tasting tour, one that salutes our brave armed forces. After toasting the vets on hand, he then rails against the music industry’s archaic royalty rules, which state that he has to ‘supposedly’ pay $500 for any copyrighted songs the local instrumental Jazz combo plays.
As an extended jam of Van Morrison’s seductive “Moondance” plays in the background, the line for beer goes out the backdoor. But patient customers have no trouble reaching the serving station within a few minutes. On tap, Cricket Hill’s Paymaster Porter retains a deeper prune hue, richer mocha malting, more pronounced dried fruiting, and mossier earthen dewiness.
Even better, the newly unveiled Trappist India Pale Ale displays a wonderful musty Belgian yeast funkiness to contrast affluent raisin, prune, and fig notes above feisty sharp-hopped black peppering and creamy caramel malting. It’s a splendid addition to Cricket Hill’s increasingly illuminating elixirs.
Best of all, Reed’s enthusiastic disposition and jovial personality make the Friday tasting sessions the perfect retreat for hardened beer nuts. And the love he shows for his sanctified minions extends to the beer Cricket Hill serves. Cheers!
Abundant whole bean coffee bittering defines rich dark ale. Lactic black chocolate surge, creamy caramel nuttiness and astringent hop-roasted char deepen smoky mocha-cocoa backdrop. Harsh tar-like acridity and ashen peanut-shelled walnut rigidity contrast milky hazelnut espresso whim. So thick and creamy it could’ve been a full-on stout.
Less brazen than brewers’ full-bodied porter, yet still rich, creamy and lactose-heavy for stylistic dry Irish Stout. Copious dark chocolate chalking and ample coffee bean bittering ascend above moderate charred hop toasting. Sticky anise upsurge intensifies sweet hazelnut and astringent walnut illusions. On tap, obsidian-hued dry body retains all its character, though roasted coffee influence is less persistent.
Rustic blue-collar moderation styled after Classic English bitter stays dryer and earthier than brewers’ Dog Soldier Golden. In bottled version, lemon-dried honeyed tea herbage grips vegetal gourd, squash, beet, carrot, and mushroom acridity. On tap, crude barley, alfalfa, buckwheat and wheatgrass grist imparts flaked cereal grain toasting.
PORTLAND, MAINE
Sometimes a little bit o’ luck is all ya need. Take Allagash Brewing owner, Rob Tod, who stumbled into the beer business washing kegs at Vermont’s second largest brewery, Otter Creek, in ’93. At the time, he didn’t know the biz well, but fell in love with brewing after two days of work. In ’95, Tod began Portland, Maine’s ALLAGASH BREWING, an astoundingly successful venture that has led to a lifetime commitment to making interestingly renowned libations.
“We did in on the cheap,” Tod explains as we celebrate Allagash night at Jersey City’s newborn Barcade, November ‘11. “Shipyard and Geary were already opened so there was a readied local market. After the plumbing and welding, we started with a no-frills draft only system with two fermenters.”
A big part of Allagash’s successful culture has come from crafting innovative recipes and styles that moved beyond the inaugural Belgian-styled novelties. Though limited in capacity, Tod never let his small space constrain the audacious originality of an ever-expanding lineup of gratifying suds. At any given time he may have five different beers barrel aging and then blended differently.
“We taste the barrel aged versions every six months and let them sit for a two-year period,” Tod says. “Anyone at the brewery who has an idea for a beer could brew one on a 10-gallon pilot system. Some have become full-scale beers.”
Allagash is constantly coming out with limited release beers (check the Beer Index), learning from each experience. As the only American brewery invited to Belgian brewfest, Allagash made several wonderful spontaneously fermented beers.
“We’re going back March 2012,” the proud entrepreneur indicates. “We re-created the Belgian yeast funk with Maine’s soft water, which is well-suited for our beers. Our Interlude and Confluence use brettanomyces yeast we found at the brewery growing in a batch of beer we cultured. We also brewed Thing 1 and Thing 2 for an event in Boston. We take the first runnings of a base beer and ferment separately.”
At Barcade’s Allagash Brewing Night, several sour ales and wild ales make the rounds with positive feedback coming from the packed house this rainy Thursday night. There’s typical Belgian-styled fare such as Allagash’s signature Curieux, Dubbel, Four, Grand Cru, Interlude, and White, plus previously untried offerings such as Victor and Victoria (Belgian Strong Ales) and Bourbon Black.
Even the industrious Tod has not tried every single beer he’s crafted onsite. Though he’s tasted Thing 1 and Thing 2 off the tank before carbonation and conditioning, the tall zymurgist has yet to try the finished draft version. Hopefully, tonight will be the right time to indulge. Cheers!
Easygoing Classic English India Pale Ale much darker and earthier than citric-pined West Coast style. Amiable brown-tanned medium body drapes peat mossy Fuggle hops atop cocoa-seeded chocolate malting and light iced tea sugaring. Ashen nuttiness, wet tobacco leafing and tart cherry tease supplement ancillary Cascadian dark ale tendencies. On tap, dried prune, fig and date illusions fill out bark-dried oaken cedar timbering.
Classic Christmas Ale better defined as nut-spiced brown ale since expectant winter seasoning lacks assertiveness and soft-watered flow lightens musty toffee malting. Medicinal ethanol prickle envelops sweet hazelnut surge and ancillary ginger-snapped cinnamon, nutmeg and clove spicing. Consistent, but not as rigorously full-bodied as better stylistic fare. On tap, earthen peat mossing and ashen cocoa malting contrast fig-spiced cinnamon-nutmeg sentiment and ancillary cherry pie remnant.
