Fresh, Local and Here to Stay

By: Jamie Fulton, Head Brewer

When I operated The Covey Restaurant & Brewery from 2006 to 2010, I often thought that Fort Worth was the final frontier of craft brewing.  I had many die hard, loyal regulars that had their favorite beers and appreciated the variety that came out of my small seven-barrel brewery.  However, there were many more folks that were very suspicious of what was going on behind the glass walls in all those stainless steel tanks. 

“I think those are for making tortillas.” 

“If it was any better than Budweiser they’d be brewing it.” 

“I don’t drink brewed beer.” 

“You never know what these little breweries are putting in this stuff…”

The list goes on and on.  These are pretty hysterical comments, but not when you’ve got bills to pay and people are drinking macro-brewed lager at the restaurant next door.  Macro-brewed lager has ruined so many people’s conceptions of beer over the decades since prohibition, that it’s hard to blame any of these folks, as it is all many people have ever known as beer.

            What many people do not realize is that Texas had a very rich brewing history before Prohibition wiped the slate.  During the mid 19^th century, the south-central through north-central regions of Texas had one of the highest concentrations of central European immigrants in North America.  And as in other areas of the United States, seemingly before they even unpacked the wagons, they were brewing beer!  By the turn of the century there were nearly a half million barrels of beer being brewed in Texas.

            There were important breweries all over the state.  Dallas had Dallas Brewing Co. (1887).  Fort Worth had Texas Brewing Co. (1890). Houston had American Brewing and Houston Ice & Brewing Co. (both 1893).  The most important brewing town was San Antonio though, with San Antonio Brewing Co. (1883) and Lone Star Brewing (1884).  The span of all of these large breweries opening is only ten years! 

            It is no stretch to draw a comparison to the explosion of craft breweries opening today.  By my count there are nearly one hundred craft breweries and brewpubs in operation today in Texas and that number is exponentially increasing with many more in planning.

            Is this a fad?  Not a chance.  While I do think Darwin’s theory will take effect before long with some new breweries (hopefully not mine), many are here to stay.  And the great news for craft brewers in Texas and around the country is that the demand is higher than ever before and ever increasing. 

How could we have even thought of having North Texas Beer Week ten years ago?  That would have been a sad week indeed for craft beer lovers.  While there were a few breweries around, there is no comparison to the plethora in the current marketplace.  Just this past weekend, Texas brewers brought home ten medals in the biggest beer competition in the nation and the world!  It was unforgettable to see Texas represented so well, unlike any year past I have been.  The camaraderie is healthy too; nearly all the Texas brewers were sitting together cheering each other’s win.

As a seventh-generation Texan I am already proud of my roots, and now there’s yet another source of pride for me: our ever-strengthening Texas beer culture.  So I propose for North Texas Beer Week, let’s raise our glasses and cheer each other’s win as fellow Texans: having a righteous selection of amazing craft beer brewed right here, fresh and local, and here to stay.  

Cheers!!!!

Local, Fresh & Brewed with Tradition

By: Jamie Fulton, Head Brewer

Whenever I set out to brew a new beer, I put hours of research into the endeavor.   However, when I first brewed a hefeweizen on a commercial scale in 2006, I knew without research what the recipe would involve.  From my time in Germany, I learned that these beers have been brewed for centuries from a basic, simple formula: half wheat malt, half barley malt, a touch of bittering hops, and most importantly, an authentic Bavarian hefeweizen yeast strain to create the telltale clove and banana flavors for which these beers are known.  

Years ago before beers were distributed around the globe, you went to your local pub or restaurant to drink local beers, and many of these were probably using very similar recipes, albeit each brewer adds his/her own personal twist.  While there are obviously many variations in modern commercially available hefeweizens, this basic recipe is a good rule of thumb. 

To keep it traditional for that first batch of hef, I ran with the simplest version of that recipe: 50% wheat malt, 50% two row barley malt and 14 IBUs of bittering, noble hops.  It was an instant favorite of my customers and one of my all-time favorite beers we made at The Covey.  It goes miles to show that sometimes you just shouldn’t try to reinvent the wheel!  I tinkered with the recipe slightly over the years, but it never varied far from the time-tested, classic formula that’s been brewed in Southern Germany for many, many years.

I think the reason for the centuries-long popularity of certain, classic beer styles is plainly obvious: they are widely enjoyed by many people and there’s a certain catch to their flavor.  Just look at the impressive run for beers like English Bitters, Czech Pilsners, German Helles, Irish Dry Stouts, etc.  This is why we set out to brew the Witbier at Community Beer Co. as traditional as possible: we’re on a straightforward mission to bring our local community the freshest witbier around.  While witbier has not been around as long as some of the other classic beer styles, it has left its own unique mark in history. 

Historically some of the beers that fell into the category of witbier were sour to some extent; we decided to go a more modern route with the fermentation.  The late and great Pierre Celis – the godfather of modern witbier – brought his own yeast to America to make the now famous Celis White, the brand of which was sold and still brewed by Michigan Brewing Co.  (We've heard rumors that it might be coming back to Texas via Celis' family)  

We’re using that same yeast strain at Community, along with another select Belgian strain that adds its own unique “fingerprint.”  We’re gently spicing our witbier with California sweet orange peel, French bitter orange peel and freshly ground coriander seed.  We did keep the grist traditional, about half of which is unmalted wheat.  Anyone who has ever brewed with any appreciable amount of wheat in an all grain mash knows the challenges that usually ensue!  Thankfully, our state of the art, four-vessel brew house with a mash mixer gives us the capability to gracefully handle large percentages of unmalted grains.  This is a good thing, because I think we’re going to be brewing lots of Community Witbier! 

Go grab a pint at your favorite local watering hole and find out for yourself.  I don’t think you’ll try it and think it needs some other obscure ingredients to make it a standout craft beer.  Sometimes traditions are best kept in place, and I think our Witbier is a perfect example.

The Journey to Brewing Begins ...

By: Jamie Fulton, Head Brewer

My journey to becoming a brewmaster began in the summer of 2002 with my friend Dustin.  I had just finished a summer course at Le Cordon Bleu covering some basics of French culinary arts.  We were presently in Amsterdam – our third stop across Europe – when we decided to visit the Heineken Experience Museum, which once housed the Heineken Brewery.  Now it’s strictly a tourist attraction, but they serve great beer in this museum!

No, it wasn’t the first time I tasted beer; I’d tasted many craft beers by this point.  Rather, it was the first time I experienced what every brewer knows: the synergy of raw ingredients combined to make the flavors we know as beer.  One of the first “rooms” you enter in the museum isn’t a room per se; it’s an old malt silo.  In the corner, poured out onto the concrete was a large pile of fresh barley malt.

            “Go ahead, taste it if you like,” the guide told us. 

I immediately walked over, grabbed a handful and chewed and ate it like it was breakfast (probably was).  “Man that’s pretty tasty,” I remember thinking.  It’s a wholesome, slightly sweet, grainy flavor that brought nostalgia of things I’ve eaten/drank: beer, Grape Nuts, granola, etc. 

The next room was a lesson on hops and what they contribute to beer.  As with the barley, the guide encouraged us to “experience” the hops.  I grabbed a handful of the not-so-glamorous looking green pellets and rubbed them between my palms, smelling the fruity/spicy/hoppy aromas burst out.  “Wow!  That’s what I’ve been tasting…” 

The next room put it all together for you.  You enter and they pour you the most refreshing Heineken you’ve ever tasted.  It was at this point that it all clicked for me: the taste of the barley malt, the perfectly balanced, subtle hop character.   I just finished “experiencing” these flavors and aromas in the previous rooms, now here they were for me infused into this tasty beverage.  I was very intrigued.

You might think, “So you became a brewer because you tasted some fresh Heineken?!”  Or, “I hate Heineken, that beer’s for posers.”

            No, and I disagree. 

There is beauty in the simplicity and subtlety of European lagers.  There are few beers that showcase the raw flavors of malted barley and noble hops, and do so with balance and elegance.  The trick with most of these beers – for those not fortunate enough to live near one of the breweries – is getting them fresh!  That’s what clicked for me.  Usually Heineken is skunky or oxidized when I had tasted it, it was definitely never inspiring!  Yet that’s how fresh and delicious it was at the museum.  I was inspired.

As we proceeded across the continent, we shared many great beers together, most notably in Munich, of course, and also in Prague and Interlaken.  At one point near the end of our adventure I said, “Dustin when we get home, I’m gonna brew some beer.  It’s just all so fresh over here!”

The idea was planted; the journey began.  Moral of the story: Drink fresh, local beer!