Albany New York State Museum

I awake feeling slightly less knacked. Slightly. Let’s see if a fry up in the hotel will boost my energy. Failing that, coffee might jerk me into action.

It’s not much of a drive today. Just around the corner, really. To the New York State Museum where Craig works.

He drops me off in the library, where I’m planning on doing a little research. I decide to take a look at a pamphlet published in New York City in 1860 entitled “Sunday Theatres Sacred Concerts and Beer-Gardens”. It’s a clumsily racist work attacking German immigrants for having fun on a Sunday. A reminder that there have always been miserable killjoys, mostly of a religious persuasion.

I spend the morning reading and photographing it. I feel right at home in an archive. It’s become my natural habitat.

Craig picks me up at lunchtime and we walk to Hill Street Café for a beer and a bite. It’s yet another place with an impressive beer selection. Especially considering how small it is. Twenty draughts in total. I eat Quesadillas. Don’t want anything too heavy.

When we’re done eating, Craig takes me around the museum. The oldest state museum in the US, apparently. I’m dead into history, as you might have noticed. And maps, which is lucky as they’ve some good ones of New York City. I can stare at maps for hours.

Craig takes me to his office to meet a few people. And the geology department to look at the bendy rock, which is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen. Heavy and hard like you’d expect, but bendy. The bloke in charge shows us some more unusual rocks, which is fun.

Before heading over to Craig’s for dinner, we stop by Lionheart again for a few beers. I can see why it’s Craig’s local. Good atmosphere, good beer, $3 pints during happy hour.

It’s nice to finally meet Craig’s family. But there is one slight problem:

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

“Er, yes. Very. I basically stop breathing. But I’m OK for an hour or two”

The evening ends quite early. I’m in my hotel before 9 PM. Still breathing, which is a big plus.

I take Mr Laphroaig for a final spin before slumping onto my bed.

Tomorrow is another travel day. Train to New York Penn Station, then a connection on to Washington DC. Nothing too strenuous.




New York State Museum
222 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12230.
Tel: +1 518-474-5877
http://www.nysm.nysed.gov/


Hill Street Cafe
180 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12202.
Tel: +1 518-462-3544
http://www.hill-street-cafe.com/


Lionheart Pub
448 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-436-9530
http://thelionheartpub.com/

Utica (part two)

For lunch we decant to the brewery’s pub, which is on the first floor.

A very attractive, old-fashioned sort of place it is, with dark wooden panelling and an impressive carved bar. The brewery has laid on a buffet of local Italian-ishy food like Utica greens. Craig is well impressed.

“This is real local Utica food. Something else I can annoy Alan with.” Craig says somewhat spitefully.

Fred Matt, the family member currently in charge, joins us for lunch. He’s a friendly, enthusiastic man who is clearly in love with the brewery. You can’t blame him. I’m becoming smitten myself.

Naturally, there’s beer to go with the food. There’s a good selection of Matt’s beer on tap, mostly under the Saranac brand, but there’s also the old favourite Utica Club Pilsener. I go for something IPA-ey. As often is the case when I’m in the US. Unless there’s Mild on offer, obviously. Not that that’s often the case.

After we’ve stuffed our holes, they bring out the old documents that they’ve found. It’s not a huge amount and there are no brewing records. But an inventory record does give away a little about what they were brewing during Prohibition. It lists the stock of various labels during 1931. These are the beers: Pilsener, Wuerzburger, Bock, Brown Stout, India Pale and Export Brew. Wuerzburger, in case you’re wondering, was a sort of Dark Lager. Several breweries seem to have made one.

We venture up into the attic to look at the piles of stuff heaped up there. Furniture, old advertising material, wrecked barrels. All sorts of stuff.

The barrels are particularly interesting. The ones that are falling apart reveal their innards and the function of two enigmatic holes in the head. These lead to a metal coil inside the barrel. Blow me. It’s a sort of in-barrel attemperator. Who would have guessed that?

When we’ve had our fill of the attic, it’s back to look at the remainder of the brewery. We see yet more tanks and more weird old bits of equipment. And the fermenters.

No conicals here, but horizontal oblong fermenters. They used to be open but are now enclosed with stainless steel tops. The danger of CO2 was the main reason for enclosing them. Which is fair enough. CO2 is the biggest killer in a brewery. The historical records are full of sad cases of brewery workers succumbing to suffocation by CO2.

We climb up onto the roof, giving us a wonderful view of the brewery and the town around it. A few years back there was a disastrous fire that destroyed two floors of one of the buildings. They’ve since been removed, leaving the structure two storeys shorter. Fortunately the brewery was able to rise from the ashes.

It’s quite late by the time we finally say our farewells. We’ve spent pretty much the whole day at the brewery. I feel knacked. Must be all that walking up and down stairs.

Back in Albany, we drop off Craig at home then Reed drives me to the Olde English Pub for a meal and a pint. I’m so tired that I knock half of my fried fish onto the floor. Bum.

Reed wants to know what the caramel flavour is at the back of his Fullers ESB.

“It’s the boiled sweet flavour you get when you pasteurise British beer.”

He seems a little disappointed at my explanation.

No need for a Laphroaig eye-closer tonight. I can barely keep them open as I stumble into my room. Exhausted but happy.

Tomorrow I’ve a day in the museum. New York State Museum, where Craig works. Will the fun never end?




The Olde English Pub and Pantry
683 Broadway
Albany, NY 12204

Utica (part one)

An exciting day dawns. First with more bacon and not fewer eggs. Before the real fun begins. We’re off to F.X. Matt.

Craig picks me up and I sit in the back. It’s a while before I realise that it isn’t Alan in front of me but Reed.

“Where’s Alan?” I ask.

“He’s gone back to Canada. He was worried by his credit card not working.” Craig replies.

“And miss out on Matt?”

“Yes, I know. He’ll regret it. Especially when I tell him how wonderful it was.”

As will I. No doubt that it will be wonderful. In exactly which way, I'm not sure. But I'm, convinced it will be.

The drive is longer today, leaving Craig more opportunities to fill me in on the history of New York. No complaints from me. History is sort of my thing.

In Utica, there's a little wandering around in circles. They are ever decreasing, which gives me hope. We spot the big Utica Club sign sitting on top of the brewery and, ignoring the insistent satnav, head that way.

We enter through the shop and are soon in the grand entrance hall. Three people are there to meet us: Damon, the regional sales manager, Steve, the pilot brewer, and Rich, a Quality and Innovation guy.

Soon Ben Keene, editor of BeerAdvocate Magazine arrives. I asked if he wanted to tag along, as he lives not far away. And, if I’m honest, because I wanted to meet him. We’ve worked together a while, but never met. No amount of digital contact matches a few hours in the same room.

A glass-faced cabinet full of old Matt bottles clings to one wall. It soon gets closer attention. There are pre-, post- and Prohibition examples.

Then it’s off down a corridor and up in a lift to the brew house. And a very noble one it is, too. With gleaming copper kettles. But also something not quite so stylish.

“Is that a mash filter?” I ask.

“Yes.”

It’s rather an old one, too. I’ve never seen one of those in use before. They were briefly popular many decades ago. Though not so much in the UK, where most of the older breweries I’ve been around are.


There’s no brewing happening today, as they’re performing maintenance on the brew house. Workmen rather than brewers are clambering around the equipment.

They’ve also a designated cereal cooker for the pre-mash of grits. Not seen one of those before, either. Looks like this is going to be a day of firsts.

After a bit of clambering around, we take a look at the huge malt silos. Outside we can see a railway car that’s delivering malt. Craig photographs it.

“It’s from Canada malt. I’ll send the picture to Alan to annoy him.”

And there’s another first. Never been to a brewery that still had an active railway siding.

This place is a maze. We continue to clamber up and down staircases and wander corridors. Next stop is the pilot brewery. It looks very similar in size and form to the kit at the real McCoy I saw yesterday. Sadly, there’s no beer ready to drink.

“That’s why everyone likes stopping by here,” one of our guides says, “the chance to drink beer. Interesting beer, usually.”

More scrambling around later, we’re in the hop store. I’m heartened to see large quantities of English hops, from Charles Faram.

Next is one of the highlights of the day. We’re taken into the room filled with what they call “Lincoln” tanks. So called because they were installed when Lincoln was president. What? They’ve sat here more than 150 years and are still in use? I’m gobsmacked. I’m pretty sure that’s the oldest equipment I’ve ever seen in use at a brewery. Though they aren’t currently used for beer, but for soft drinks.

There’s room after room of storage tanks. All pretty big horizontal affairs. None of them look very new. In fact everywhere I look there’s weird old bits of machinery, occasionally jarringly punctuated by something shinily new.

There are also closed, derelict rooms, filled with ancient, rusting tanks, the floors deep in mud and other gunk.

Just when I think this is a brewery like no other, I spot what’s become a feature of everywhere I visit: oak barrels. Filled with oak-ageing beer. Oddly, it seems atypically modern.

We visit the sample room, where bottles of every batch are kept for a year or so, in case there are complaints from the trade. It’s easy enough to check if there really were problems with a brew or not.

And with that, it’s time for lunch. With none other than Fred Matt himself. But that’s for next time.

Albany, Albany

Not quite such an early start today. Our first appointment isn’t that early.

I’m staying in the Hilton in downtown Albany. They do a decent breakfast spread. And I’m a lazy git. So I break fast in my hotel. A bacon and eggy sort of break. Yum.

Craig and Alan pick me up and we pootle over to Delmar, a suburb of Albany. Where there’s a fairly new brewery, The Real McCoy. It’s compact, that’s the word for it. Small but perfectly formed. In fact exactly the sort of brew kit I’d like to have in a shed at the bottom of the garden.

The tasting room – or the front third of the building – isn’t usually open on a Sunday. The owner has opened up especially for us. Which is nice of him. Only downside is that he has no beer. Organise piss-up in and couldn’t come to mind. Luckily there’s a shop open nearby so some beer is bought and consumed. Slightly weird, mind.

Someone who words in Nine Pin, an Albany cidery, drops by. Not sure how he knew they were open or whether he was just randomly wandering the streets. He’s pleasant enough to chat with, as is the owner. A couple of hours drift gently by on a tide of beer and conversation.

Craig suggests we drop by Biergarten, a German-themed place in the centre of Albany. Sounds good to me. But Alan bugs out. Not quite sure why. So it’s just me and Craig who do the German thing.

On the way over, we stop by the former Hickel brewery for a photo opportunity. It’s a fine brick building, now converted into flats. It’s about the only large physical reminder of Albany’s glorious brewing past.

Biergarten is slightly odd, in that it isn’t a garden. Just a cavernous former industrial building kitted out with picnic tables. They’ve several German beers on draught, which I ignore. I’m no more likely to drink German beer in the US than I am to drink US beer in Europe.

There’s a jolly atmosphere, which isn’t harmed by the footie on the telly. There’s also German-style food, but we don’t indulge. Pretzels, Schnitzels and sausage. Andrew would be happy – they have Currywurst.

Pausing only to pick up Alan again, our next stop is Albany Pump Station, a large brew pub in a former pumping station, surprisingly enough. It also calls itself C.H. Evans Brewing Co., taking the name from a brewery that was active in Hudson, NY from 1786 until Prohibition.

It’s a fairly typical of a brewpub in a cavernous industrial space. Somewhat livened up by the presence of C.H. Evans memorabilia. The brewing kit looks a decent size, as you would expect in such a large space.

It’s about time for some balance and we head for El Loco, a Mexican restaurant. Where we stuff our faces for a while. Luckily Lionheart is just over the street. We finish with a few beers there. But don’t stay until too late. Because tomorrow is a big day.

A very big day. We’re getting the VIP treatment at F.X. Matt. I’m so excited. But also knacked, so I’m soon in the land of nod.





The Real McCoy Beer Co.
20 Hallwood Rd.,
Delmar, NY 12054


Wolff's Biergarten
895 Broadway,
Albany, NY 12207.
Tel: +1 518-427-2461
http://www.wolffsbiergarten.com/


Albany Pump Station
19 Quackenbush Square,
Albany, NY 12207.
Tel: +1 518-447-9000
http://www.evansale.com/


El Loco Mexican Cafe
465 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12210.
Tel: +1 518-436-1855
http://www.ellocomexicancafe.com/


Lionheart Pub
448 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-436-9530
http://thelionheartpub.com/

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1900 Amsdell Porter

Albany Ale has been so much fun I thought that an Albany Beer would be cool. So here's one - a colonial Porter from 1900.

I say Porter, but it's really a Stout. Way too strong to be a Porter. More like a Brown Stout. Ooh, what's happening to me? I'm coming over all style fascist. Never mind. Call it a porter if you like. In my mind it's a Brown Stout. Despite not containing any brown malt.

Porter grists are a topic that have long fascinated me. This one, the stack of adjuncts excepted, holds few surprises. Basically just pale and black malt. Which is pretty typical of Porter grists from just about anywhere but London after 1850. London brewers, you'll remember, stuck with brown malt to the bitter end.

The weird additions - liquorice, capsicum, grains of paradise - remind me of the Porter recipes you find in brewing manuals from the early 1800's aimed at domestic brewers (i.e. not commercial brewers). All of those things being illegal for British commercial brewers up until 1880. I have seen liquorice pop up in British Porter and Stout - Maclay's Oat Malt Stout from 1909 comes to mind - but not the others.

Amsdell liked their adjuncts. All of their beers contain a stack of grits, glucose and syrup. Yummy. It's a useful reminder that adjunct brewing isn't a recent invention of megabrewers. It's been around for a long time.

Because Craig photographed every page of the brewing log over a certain period (thanks Craig) I can see just how infrequently they brewed Porter. Just three times in 194 brews. A sure sign of a style in decline.

One point of interest is the blending that they did. 65 barrels of  the 275 barrels in the brew were "old ale on hops". I believe this was old Ale (that is Ale that had been hanging around) rather than Old Ale (Ale that had been deliberately aged). I can only assume that this was a way of getting an aged taste into the beer. As well as an economic way of using up some old stock. Labatt did something similar.

It was also vatted after primary fermentation. Something that wouldn't have happened to a London Porter at this date. In fact, the more I look at it, the more archaic this beer looks. Blending and vatting had gone out of fashion 40 years earlier in London.







I'll pass the reins to Kristen for the technical brewy stuff . . . . .

Kristen’s Version:

Notes:

All of the malts and such are very straight forward. The flaked maize was actually grits so if you’d like to cook up a batch, and chuck some shrimp in a bit for lunch, be my guest,…the flaked stuff is so much easier. The Invert No1 was actually glucose so you can replace it with pure glucose if you have it, make your own No1 or even Golden syrup, which is 50% invert, is fine. The No2 is pretty mandatory. The hops were pretty old so if you have some old ones lying around, give them a go. It’s not a beer that really focused on hops but could use a good dose of that veg tannic character. She finishes a bit fat so try and work on that b/c the beer completely changes if it dries out too much for sure. Here are your handy dandy sundry ingredients. The Grains of Paradise and hot pepper are nearly insignificant, the salt and licorice are much higher. Use them at your discretion.

	g/L
Licorice	0.61
Salt	0.19
Capsicum	0.01
GOP	0.01