Boise's littlest beer fest

Boise's attempt to hold not one, but two craft beer festivals almost fell completely apart this spring. The organizers weren't completely clear, but apparently their plans to hold a beer fest downtown couldn't come together quickly enough through the city for it to happen this month. Awkward, when you're already selling tickets for such an event.

So, Brewforia did the next best thing and set it up in its backyard.

Also, in the backyard of a spa.

Now, mind you, the annual beer festival in August is held in a park. A large park. With lots of room to sprawl. Brewforia, in turn, is in a little shopping center area at the corner of two busy roads.

But somehow, it worked. A ton of Northwest brewers, small and large, got ale there (including Sun Valley Brewing!). There was one well-used food cart, and though attendance seemed perhaps a little light, for the space things were still pretty well packed.

And it only took about half a minute to refill your cup. That's a lot of beer.

For the price it was a fun time. I got to try an IPA from a promising new Treasure Valley brewery, a terrible imperial stout (though I didn't jot down who brewed it, so that'll be fun to buy accidentally) and a brilliant drunk-food sandwich made by putting a burger between two grilled-cheese sandwiches. All in all, a successful afternoon.

So... Like I said, this was only one of two fests this year. Who's up for August?

Cider that punches you in the head, but lovingly

I write this sipping from the cup of success -- success in this case being the cider I somewhat haphazardly tossed in a carboy a couple weeks back.

It's a yellowish cup of yellow liquid on a yellow background! This is photography.

Turns out that already-tart regular cider makes extremely tart hard cider, once the yeast eats up even more of the sugars. But not one to be daunted, I added a touch of bottled apple juice to a glass of the stuff tonight, and the result is a nicely sweet-and-sour concoction that seems quite in line with what I understand others have done. (Though I wasn't expecting it to be cloudy. I know nothing about if ciders are filtered -- is that normally necessary?)

The longsuffering Mrs. Wife pronounced it drinkable and even "good," despite me shoving a small taster glass at her as she called it a night.

The other exciting part of this, of course, is that I have no idea of the alcohol content in this glass. It was a small enough batch that I wasn't able to do any effective gravity measurements. That means the sole ABV estimate I got was from my intrepid bottling team, who when the first bottles were filled took a whiff and said "Yep, that sure is alcohol in there." (Newsflash: They're right.)

So, much to learn on the cider front? Definitely. But we're already off to a better start than with the gluten-free beers that repeatedly failed to go anywhere. I'm very excited about what's next.

Other updates:

- The well-watered hops presumably are doing their thing underground. Haven't seen them peek up yet, but will keep all three of you who likely read this thing posted.

- Also bottled at the same time as the cider: a basic wheat beer with cinnamon tossed in, following an idea from an episode of the Basic Brewing podcast. I was hoping that more of the ground cinnamon would make it into the final bottled product, but it seems that a fair amount stayed in the bottom of the fermenter... we'll see what that means for the flavor in the end.

- Beer festival this weekend! I will take pictures.

Tasting Room: Espresso Oak-Aged Yeti Imperial Stout

Last time in the Tasting Room, I highlighted what is perhaps my favorite style: the imperial stout.

That fine product was fairly one-dimensional, however, compared to what such a stout can become. I now humbly submit this beast, created by the Great Divide Brewing Co. of Colorado:

Great name, huh?

Great Divide's Yeti Imperial Stout is a good beer as-is. But this combination builds on that success. There's a lot going on here.

The aroma is sweet and syrupy, but with promise of what's to come. It's also a lovely pour:

I'm not sure how it looks like a yeti. Dark and mysterious?

This was a beer worth lingering over. The flavors are varied: both the coffee, which is advertised as a roast local to Denver, and the oak make their presence known. Smoother than the KGB by far, it still packs an bitter edge in the back end.

Again, a beer I'd love to age further. Now, if I can just get my hands on another bottle...

In which I pretend I know how to garden

The hops are in! Now comes the tedious part -- watering, and waiting to see what comes of all this this season.

The planting itself was about as easy as could be for this gardening-challenged guy. I got a lot of help from this fantastic book -- which has more than earned its place on my brewing shelf -- but really, it was pretty simple:

• Dig a hole.
• Put some rich soil in that hole.
• Put the hop rhizome in the hole.
• Dump some mulch on top.

And there you have it!

It's a little hard to see, but the hop placement is actually quite specific -- there are two mounds under the trellises (trelli?), with a hop rhizome planted a few inches under each. On the right is Fuggle; the left hill will sprout Willamette.

While tending the hops this summer, I'll also be working on the best way to dry and package the hop cones after harvest. It looks like there's a few options. Anyone out there have any experience with one that's worked best for them?

(For my non-hops-book-owning readers: It occurred to me right after planting that aside from this terrible photo, I never actually photographed the rhizomes before they went in the ground. Just know they're there, and look like someone lopped off a small tree branch and sold it to me.)

Tasting Room: Widmer KGB Russian Imperial Stout

Now, all those wheats that have been in these reviews so far are fine and dandy. But from where I stand, the top of the beer class is the imperial stout. And Widmer's latest in its "W" series, the KGB Russian Imperial Stout, certainly delivers.

It delivered so well, in fact, that I forgot to take a picture. So here's the label instead.

Some imperial stouts are brewed to be smooth and sweet. KGB, on the other hand, is one that's not afraid to play a little rough. The beer features a sharp bite, at least at this point -- it'd be interesting to see what aging one does for it -- in which both the choice of malts and a healthy dose of hops are apparent.

The KGB wins on appearance, too. It sits neatly in the glass, with a healthy tan head and an aroma that says "stop wasting time looking at me and just drink up." (Upon said drinking-up, be aware of the 9.3% abv... If your beer actually tells you that, it may be time to call it a night.)

So far, the plan just seems to be for this beer to stay a limited edition and not a regular seasonal, which is a shame -- though a win for Widmer, as I'm now going to have to make another store run to pick up a few bottles.