"beer of the week" news and stories

The bitter endive -- both the curly-leaved frisée variety and the broad-leaved escarole -- is all too often an unsung player in the vegetable kingdom. You'll occasionally see endives served in salad, or perhaps braised with a little butter. But now, thanks to Allagash Brewing and New Belgium, the humble endive has found a home in a beer bottle.

When the brewers began plotting their hibiscus-flavored collaboration release, Vrienden (Flemish for friends), "we wanted a very simple sour so as not to compete with the hibiscus," said New Belgium brewmaster Peter Bouckaert. New Belgium's wild Brettanonyces yeast proved too potent, so the brewers turned to Allagash's strain of Lactobacillus bacteria and Brett. "The Allagash microbes bring just the right amount of sour and elevate the hibiscus notes to where they belong," Bouckaert added.

(As for the endive, that brainstorm hit at the beginning of the brew day, when the brewers sautéed a batch of the veggies till they caramelized. It would, in the words of Bouckaert, add "endive" flavor to the beer.)

Earlier this year, I shared a cup of coffee with Greg Hall, the brewmaster at Chicago's Goose Island. And he gave me news so incredible I nearly dropped my cup. "We're releasing special versions of Bourbon County Stout," said Hall. I think I may have yelped with glee. Here's why:

When Bourbon County was first released in 1992, the imperial stout -- which spends months marinating in oak barrels that once held Heaven Hill bourbon -- helped usher in America's delicious era of barrel-aged beers. BCS has long been my dessert drink of choice, the perfect potion to pair with chocolate cake, or just savor with close friends.

To build on the decades-long success of BCS, Hall explained, Goose Island would start rolling out special versions of the brewery's standout stout. A coffee version would be infused with Intelligentsia Black Cat espresso. Another riff would soak in 23-year-old Pappy Van Winkle bourbon barrels. And lastly, a BCS dosed with vanilla beans.

With Old Man Winter bearing down, it's time to start switching up my sipping beer. Since spiced Christmas ales don't tickle my tongue, I often look toward amped-up stouts or perhaps a strong, stomach-stoking barley wine such as Sierra Nevada's Bigfoot.

Lately, though, I've been exploring barley wine's little-known sibling, wheat wine. It's a mash-up of lightly tart, almost fruity wheat ales and rich barley wines -- a rare, delicious hybrid.

"You don't see a lot of wheat wines on the marketplace," says Mark Edelson, the director of brewery operations for the Iron

As a kid, celebrating Hanukkah meant spinning the dreidl, lighting candles, snacking on my mom's crisp latkes and, glory be, opening up a present for eight great nights -- take that, Christmas.

But as an adult, the Festival of Lights has lost some luster. Now, I have to make my own latkes. And gifts? I'm lucky if I get a single sweater tucked into a JCPenney box. That's why this year I'm taking present-buying into my own hands and nabbing a bottle of He'Brew Jewbelation, crafted by the Shmaltz Brewing Company.

Each Hanukkah brings a new Jewbelation recipe, and this one -- done in honor of the brewery's 14th anniversary -- is a knee-knocking doozy: 14 hops, 14 malts, 14 percent ABV.

"Our brewer, Paul McErlean, has done a tremendous job of finding a way to balance all of the ingredients in the Jewbelation beers to make the final product complex and aggressive, but also well thought out and totally drinkable -- for a 14 percent ABV brew," says founder Jeremy Cowan.

Well, I wouldn't go that far. While the ruby-black ale has a figgy, grassy nose, this ain't no dainty butterfly. From the first

Now that fall is here (and my landlord has not yet turned on the heat in my apartment), I like to start my mornings with a steaming bowl of oatmeal. In the cold heart of night, I also indulge in a little oatmeal -- in my beer.

When added to a stout, oats make a beer as smooth as a straight-razor shave and add a measure of sweetness. Oatmeal stouts are a refreshing contrast to the standard stouts, which can be bitter and roasty to a fault -- especially in supercharged imperial stouts.

But can oatmeal tame even the gnarliest, burliest Russian imperial stout? After meeting B.O.R.I.S., I'm inclined to answer yes. Hailing from Akron, Ohio's Hoppin' Frog Brewery, B.O.R.I.S. is also known as a Bodacious Oatmeal Russian Imperial Stout. He's one of Hoppin' Frog's numerous boldly flavored brews, such as the Frog's Hollow Double Pumpkin Beer and the Hop Dam Triple IPA -- high-ABV beers meant for sharing, not sipping by your lonesome.