We're inching our way toward the official tallying of every single beer style. We spoke briefly about it a couple days ago, and I wanted to touch base one more time before I actually make the goddamn list of every beer style and start checking them off one by one. We already covered the WHY, but it's important to talk about the HOW too, before we begin.
How did certain beers come to be classified in the way they did? Sensory descriptors are the obvious answer—if it looks like a lager, and smells like a lager, and tastes like a lager, then it's a lager—but there are other factors. Geography and culture work together, creating the history of a beer, which is used to retroactively designate a beer as a certain style.
Think about porters. In the 1600s, Englanders were just making dark beers. But in 1725, someone decided to call it "porter," and that's literally the only reason why a dark beer is a porter. In the same area, "stout" could apply to any strong beer, but eventually, someone decided to make "stout" mean "strong porter" exclusively. It's just a name, but because historically these are the definitions applied, we keep using them.
It really is just all about the name, though. It's all about using that name to get the message across. Mosher uses the example of American Pale Ales. You know that a pale ale is going to be any beer that's an "amber-colored, top-fermented ale of 5 to 6.5 percent alcohol and crisp bitterness with the resin and citrus overtones of American hops," but it's just easier to say "American Pale Ale" on the label. It gets the message across. This is how language works.
And that doesn't even mean that styles are static. Some styles get more bitter over time, or darker, or more aromatic. All things considered, you might even start to think that it's not even worth classifying styles of beer. Why bother? Beer is beer, right?
But if you take that approach, then you're missing out on an integral part of the beer tasting experience. Take today's beer, for instance. It's a great example of history and taste intertwining to create a great fucking beer.
Before refrigerators were invented, beer still had to be brewed in cooler temperatures, so it ended up being an autumn-to-spring activity. Stronger beers were consumed in the spring, since they had all winter to ferment. Strong beers are fucking great—and the monks, unfortunately for them, agreed, despite the fact that springtime's Lent called for abstinence.
A bunch of monks got together, poured over religious texts, and concluded that God only required them to refrain from eating meat—the big man said nothing about beer. One of the strong spring beers at the time was a "bock," which is the German word for a male goat (the symbol of spring fertility). The thirsty monks made an even stronger version of the bock, a doppelbock, to keep themselves nourished through the grueling Lenten season.
This is how Paulaner's Salvator was created. And in fact, for centuries, "salvator" was a generic term for a doppelbock. Like I said, though, historical changes can occur for beers. In this particular case, the monks didn't like that the word they created was in the public domain, so in the 20th century, they started to enforce the copyright, and now Salvator refers to this one specific beer brand only.
And because we have a classification system, I now know that doppelbocks are fucking great. I drank a Salvator, and it was amazing. So if I see another beer with "doppelbock" on the label, then I'll know that I like that too. The system works.
We perpetuate the system starting next week.
NOTES
BEER: Salvator
GENRE: German Doppelbock
ABV: 7.9%
BREWED BY: Paulaner Brauerei GmbH & Co. KG
LOCATION: München, Germany
PURCHASED AT: IGA
PAIRED WITH: leftovers
GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5
BEER COUNT: 171
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