"ipa" news and stories

Last week, the Northeast broiled beneath a record-breaking heat wave, which sent New York's temperatures skying to a mercury-busting 103 degrees. That meant my apartment resembled a Native American sweat lodge. In order to survive the heat blanket, I took to soaking my head in buckets of ice water and sipping freezer-chilled bottles of my latest easy-drinking addition -- Peak Organic's Summer Session Ale.

Based in Portland, Maine, Peak's an all-organic outfit that's debunking the notion that eco-conscious beers are as enticing as rice cakes. "We don't sacrifice taste," says Peak rep Mike Cadoux, whose brother Jon is the brewer. "We're making delicious beer that just happens to be organic."

True enough, Peak's beers are tasty treats. In chillier times, I favor the Fair Trade coffee–steeped Espresso Amber Ale, or perhaps the nice and smooth Nut Brown Ale. But now, with sweat dripping down my brow, I'm dedicated to Summer Session. It's a hybrid, the offspring of a quaffable wheat brew and an aromatic Pacific Northwest pale ale.

More after the jump...

Trust us: Dad does not need another tie, much less after-shave. This Father's Day, instead of falling back on tired presents, give dear old dad a gift he might actually enjoy -- like an artisanal craft ale. Here are our 10 favorite boundary-busting craft beers guaranteed to make dad grin.

Three Floyds Dreadnaught Imperial IPA:
If your father likes his ales ludicrously hopped, look to Dreadnaught, the knockout punch from Munster, Indiana's Three Floyds brewpub. Clocking in at a cool 100 IBUs (the higher the IBU, the hoppier the beer), the 9.5 percent ABV IPA packs an aroma of mango, peaches and resin. On the tongue? Tons of citrus and caramel malt.

Mikkeller Beer Geek Breakfast:
First thing in the a.m., what better gift to give your father than a bottle of Beer Geek Breakfast? In this eye-opening stout, the Danish brewery incorporates scads of fresh coffee, chocolate malts and oats. This gives the beer a big ol' body, with enough roasty bitterness and chocolate complexity to savor come morning or night.

I'm a sane and modest man, but last week's humid heat wave made me consider strolling around shirtless, clad in a skimpy Speedo.

But in lieu of taking drastic fashion measures to cool down, I instead reached into my fridge and retrieved 12 ounces of liquid air conditioning. Did I nab an effervescent pilsener? A hopped-up ale? How about a little bit of both.

Hailing from Atlanta's SweetWater Brewing, the Road Trip Ale is a stylistic mishmash of the best sort. The summer seasonal began life as a pilsener dosed with lager yeast, which usually requires a long, cool period of fermentation. Instead, Road Trip was fermented at higher, ale-friendly temperatures, then dosed with herbal Sterling and citrusy, fragrant Cascade hops.

"The flavors are fantastic," says Steve Farace, SweetWater's "minister of propaganda." Fermenting at ale temperatures, he adds, "lets more of the hop profile come through. You get the crisp pilsener up front, then lots of hops."

Photo: Jenene Chesbrough

Hop heads are hopelessly addicted to Humulus lupulus, the flowering vine whose cones lend beer its piney, floral and even marijuana-like aromas and flavors.

To sate hop lovers' jones, we turn to the West Coast. There, California brewers are engaged in an arms race to craft bigger, burlier double India pale ales like Russian River's wondrous Pliny the Elder, Stone's Ruination and Port Brewing's heavenly Hop-15 Ale (above).

Based in San Marcos, Calif., Port Brewing is helmed by beer magician Tomme Arthur. Though the funky Belgian ales he brews under the Lost Abbey imprint are fabulous, we're happiest when he's hoppiest.

T-shirt season has arrived at last, and with it the eagerness to trade belly-warming barleywines for more sprightly sippers: namely hoppy India pale ales, whose floral flavors and aromas recall lush spring blooms. Sure, burly, nap-inducing IPAs like Dogfish Head's 120 Minute or Russian River's Pliny the Elder garner megawatt attention, but IPAs need not be monstrously potent to be monstrously delicious.

This principle is fully understood by Bend, Oregon's decades-old Deschutes Brewery. Its newest spring-summer seasonal, the Red Chair IPA (available in draft or 22-ounce bottles), demonstrates the flavorful results of restraint. Named after a favorite lift at Oregon ski resort Mount Bachelor, the Red Chair pours radiant copper, releasing a heady perfume of citrus, black tea and fresh baked biscuits.

Still, Red's no gnarly mouth-puckerer.