Today's column

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Pitcher This: Laissez les bonnes bières roulez

01-23-2008

If you're of the sort who's usually looking for any excuse to throw a party, it has probably not escaped you that Carnival is upon us, and Lent is looming.

And given that many celebrations in observance of the above involve alcohol, it's a safe bet that readers of this column planning to partake are looking for the proper brew.

Consider what follows a few beads from the beer-suggestion float.

• Is there a better way to celebrate Carnival and the approach of Mardi Gras than outside, on the street with other revelers? Who knows? Better yet, why bother trying anything else?

If you're headed for the coast, why not skip New Orleans and head for North America's original Carnival celebration, in Mobile. That city also was home to Alabama's original brewpub, The Port City Brewery opened not long after the state made brewing in restaurants legal in 1992. Sadly, Port City closed in 2001, but was followed in the same location in 2004 by the Cannon Brewpub, which lasted until 2006.

The good news is that Hurricane Brewing Co. has picked up the mantle, and is celebrating its first anniversary in the same location as its forbearers on Dauphin Street downtown. The brewery is in a massive, three-story historic structure, with a pub-style lounge on the first floor and sit-down dining upstairs.

Apart from the building, one other thing has remained the same through all three iterations: head brewer Todd Hicks.

Hicks says Hurricane's brews tend toward British-inspired ales. If you're there for Carnival it would only make sense to sample the seasonal Flying Debris Mardis Gras, described as an extra special bitter.

The menu is full of pub-style fare, from fish and chips (Southern-fried, of course,) to sausage plates to the regionally appropriate seafood and po' boys. For desert, perhaps step outside and catch a flying Moon Pie.

If you can't head south for a proper celebration, there is some Gulf Coast representation on local store shelves:

• The Abita Brewing Co. in Abita Springs, La., is just a stone's throw from the Mardi Gras ground zero that is New Orleans. They're one of the oldest craft breweries in the country, and claim to be the oldest in the Southeast, founded in 1986.

You'll find at least three Abita brews in local stores, including the company's original Amber, an Oktoberfest-style lager. It's fairly light-bodied, somewhat malty, and without much of the hops presence one might expect from a microbrewer. Abita's Purple Haze, a raspberry-flavored wheat beer, and Turbodog. Turbodog is a dark brown ale, nearly a porter, with lots of chocolaty, coffee-ish malt and just enough hops to offset that sweetness.

• Lazy Magnolia Brewing is in Kiln, off the Mississippi coast where there's just as much French Catholic history as in New Orleans and Mobile. The brewery's Southern Pecan Brown Ale is a sweet, malty treat. Available on tap locally, and now in bottles elsewhere in the state.

Today's column

Here's today's column, also available at The Star's Web site.

Pitcher This: What's brewing in the kitchen?

Ben Cunningham
Metro Editor
The Anniston Star

12/5/2007

Praising the cook after a sublime dining experience is common enough to have become cliché — "compliments to the chef."

But it's not often one gets to pay the same respects to a brewer after downing a fine pint during a meal out. At least, not in Alabama, though beer lovers here are (slowly) getting more options to drink beer brewed beneath the same roof where-under their steaks are grilled and salads tossed.

Brewpubs, commonplace across the country, have emerged slowly in the Heart of Dixie since the Legislature 15 years ago made it legal to brew beer in the same restaurants where it's served.

Brewpubs have helped to fuel the growing craft beer movement in the United States since first popping up on the west coast in the early 1980s. They were actually a re-emergence of an old tradition. In the 19th century and before, most beer would have been brewed in the inns and taverns where it was served.

The modern brewpub was an outgrowth of demand for styles beyond the typical pale lagers made by the ever-larger breweries that had come to dominate American beer.

Part of the reason for their rarity here is the strict limits the Alabama Brewpub Act of 1992 places on their operation. Brewpubs may only open in buildings eligible to be listed in the National Register of Historic Places or in federally recognized historic districts. They also must be able to seat at least 80 people at a time. The beer may be sold only for consumption in the restaurant, not packaged for retail sale.

But the most limiting part of the law says brewpubs may open only in counties where beer was brewed for public consumption prior to Prohibition in 1919. That knocks out whole swaths of the state where there once weren't enough people to justify having a brewery to sell it.

Does that include Calhoun County? No one seems to know for sure. There are now brewpubs in Montgomery, Auburn and Mobile, and a new one is on the way to Birmingham. Only history knows if a brewpub could be in the Anniston area's future. There were saloons in Jacksonville and Oxford before Calhoun County went dry in 1883, but someone would need to prove they served beer to make restaurant brewing legal here. That could be as simple as poring through old newspapers looking for an ad peddling beer. To date, no one seems to have been interested to do that research.

And they could be forgiven for that. Non-chain restaurants of any stripe are risky ventures. Throw in the specialized art of brewing, and there's every reason to fear failure. Those who've done it say you can't cut any corners. The beer must be top-notch, says Daryl Cargile, who opened the Olde Auburn Ale House seven years ago. But so must the food.

"You're not going to make it on beer only," he says.

Of course, until someone decides to give it a go here, we'll have to reserve our compliments for the chef.

(Sorta) Local beer from (very) local ingredients

Bob Townsend's Beer Town column in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution this week has a bit of local interest for readers of The Star. Townsend was at Five Seasons Brewing Co. in Alpharetta, Ga. (on Halloween?) for the unveiling of the brewpub's Great Pumpkin Ale. According to the column, it was made with 100 pounds of organic Sweet Sugar pumpkins from Moore Farms in Woodland. Good free publicity for Will & Laurie Moore!

Laurie Moore tells Star reporter Andy Johns (he picked up the phone as soon as I mentioned the AJC column to him) the brewpub uses their pumpkins for deserts as well as the beer. The farm follows all-organic practices, though they're not USDA-certified organic. Most of the Moores' produce goes to Atlanta-area restaurants such as Five Seasons.

Fifteen gallons of the Great Pumpkin Ale, by the way, was poured into a hollowed-out 300-pound pumpkin from another farm. After unveiling the pumpkin (they really did cover it with a sheet and pull it away ... ta-da!), they pounded a cask-ale-style tap into the gourd and served the brew straight from the squash. There's an excellent picture at the AJC's site.

A home for good beer in B'ham

The Birmingham News today reports that a pair of beer lovers in that city are planning to open a brewpub downtown, in the former site of the Jimmie Hale Mission homeless shelter at Third Avenue North and 24th Street.

Retired economics professor Gary Dale and a former student, Brian McMillian, say Birmingham sorely lacks a spot for handcrafted, locally brewed beer. They hope the New Vulcan Ale House will fill that void.

New Vulcan will join the Olde Auburn Ale House and the Montgomery Brewing Co. in crafting beer for on-site consumption in Alabama. I look forward to raising a locally brewed glass in Birmingham soon.

My eyes aren't Irish, but they're smiling

I hit the road after work today for the beautiful white beaches of the Gulf Coast. Made it to the shore in time to have dinner in Pensacola at McGuire's Irish Pub & Brewery. Way back in the day when I was stationed at Eglin AFB, I was a regular visitor to McGuire's Destin location. Since the Mrs. and I were just as far from P'cola as Destin on this trip, we decided to head for the original and less familiar location.

I wasn't disappointed. McGuires was one of the places I learned to enjoy hand-crafted beer, and it's just as good drinking on Pensacola Bay as it is on Choctawhachee Bay. This location gets just as much business as Destin's: too much. The place is always packed. This is the first time I've been back to McGuire's since I started the column, so I'm glad to get the chance to share a few words about their brews.

I started with one I'd not tried before, the Old Fashioned Ale. The menu listed it as something found in every pub in Ireland, but I don't know about that. It's a very light-bodied, pale-colored ale. This one certainly doesn't jump out of the glass at you. The flavor is nice and balanced, with just a hint of ale fruitiness and a hint of hops to remind you you're not drinking a mass-market American lager. Not bad, but not why I came.

After that I had a porter. The sweet maltiness was very welcome after the Old Fashioned. Very smooth, and it went well with the massive steak I ordered.

Then came the stout. This is the beer I come to McQuire's for. Pitch-black, creamy, smooth, dry and coffee-ish. Perfect for desert. That's it pictured at right.

White-sand beaches and the green hills of Ireland don't have much to do with eachother, but if you're ever down here on the coast, you'd be doing yourself a disservice to skip a trip to McGuire's.