Hop Harvest and a Stray Dog Lager

Ah, kid free! The rare liberty afforded parents when not one child, but both children have been dropped off for birthday sleepovers. Glory be.

The youngest's friend happens to live outside Northampton and we bee lined it for the oldest New England brew pub, the Northampton Brewery where they were pouring a Hop Harvest made with hops grown at Four Star Farms in Northfield.

Our happily busy bartender (on a Saturday at 2:30) explained that this was a brew based on the recipe of an earlier pale called Four Star Harvest Ale. Only this was an IPA liberally dry hopped for more aromatic punch. The varieties used are Galaxy, Centennial and Nugget.

A golden yellow color, clear around the edges, but hazy overall, this beer gets in the nose like the spray from a peeling orange. It has a fruity, citrusy zing and an upfront bitterness that leaves me wanting more.

The malt stands on its own in this hop infused glass, providing backbone and a hint of soft French bread for balance. 

In my eagerness, I'd neglected to relieve myself of the road coffee when I first arrived. Now, with this beer pressing, I made my move. 


Normally restroom ritual wouldn't work its way into the blog, but as we make special note of brewers who value all local resources, not just grain and hops, it becomes important to mention that this place uses waterless urinals. 

Not only does this appeal to my yankee frugality, but it shows respect for the most important ingredient in beer-the water, of course.

With another Hop Harvest in front of me, my collaborator Suzanne and I checked out the menu. Lo and behold, this place also includes fresh produce grown within 10 miles at a place called J.O.E.'s farm. 

According to the brewery website, this food is sustainably grown without pesticides. 

A few pints later, we went around the corner to Provisions where I had to lick my lips to prevent the drool from running onto the floor. A man next to me made a grunting noise that was a mix of awe and happiness. I felt the same.

Having only two hands, I selected a six pack of Brewmaster Jack's Stray Dog Lager as well as a pair of Jack's Abby concoctions I will try later.

As I write, I have a glass of Stray Dog in front of me. Caramel color, with off-white foam, malt is forefront here lacing the mouth with a medium to heavy body and flavors of winter squash and Anadama bread. 

I suspect the hops are of the noble variety, as they provide an accent of bitter herbs. 

On the malt side are two-row, crystal and Munich. The Munich having been grown locally and malted by the one and only Valley Malt in Hadley. Stray Dog could easily pass as a top notch Octoberfest, or maybe it's the leaves blowing by outside my window that have me thinking that way.

Notch Saison and Tree House Local Nugget

The bright sunshine slants lower on the sky as the first calendar days of autumn swing the northern hemisphere closer to the sun. Closer, yet cooler every day as the hours of sunlight shrink with each dawn.

All the autumn traditions kick in: picking pumpkins, eating apples, raking leaves and enjoying the recent harvest as it infuses fall brews with freshness and sustenance. Soon the season of Octoberfest will be here and Suzanne has her two bands practicing for outdoor celebrations in area towns.

Friday evening in our kitchen, the Luscious Lushes practiced for the October 13, West Brookfield Harvest Fest to be held on the town common. Beer will be served beginning at 11 am, but no word yet on what beer that will be.

Mando player and good friend Jeff, brought over a mixed sixpack of Notch Session, which peaked my strong interest since Notch is known to use local grain. He offered up the saison, brewed with Mass grown wheat malted in nearby Hadley at Valley Malt.

This farmhouse ale possessed an uncultivated yeasty aroma filled with spice notes. Pouring out a clean straw color with a very generous champagne head, the effervescence erupting over the top of the mug released intense citrus notes and bready warmth that got the palate eager to taste. The gentle bite of wheat malt accentuated the dry finish and was highlighted by another citrus blast, a cross between orange and grapefruit-almost pucker dry. I thought of that old pizza place standby, dry orange soda in the days before everything had corn syrup.

Coming in at 3.8 percent alcohol, I felt I could have gulped down two or three of these saidsons before I had a handle on its real character. So often a 12 ounce bottle leaves me unsatisfied. Yet, like the dwindling daylight hours, I was forced to savor and found myself swishing the suds between tongue and teeth.

According to the Notch website, their saison was "brewed to the original saison strength. This is the classic farmhouse beer. Originally brewed by farmers to slake the thirst of seasonal workers (les saisonniers), this refreshing beer had a lower alcohol content that is not often seen in today's modern saison. Notch returns saison to its roots, not only in alcohol content, but by using local ingredients much like Belgian farmers."

This beer came out in march and us hardly at its freshest seven months later. Yet the funky Belgian yeast seems to have kept working all that time as the lively flavor attests. Pils Malt and oats joined wheat malt on the grain bill while Mt. Hood and Styrian Goldings provided the hop accents. 

From Tree House to Orchard 

I used to think Brimfield was boring place, that is when the flea market was not in town. Another time things liven up is when the apples start to snap with sweet juice. Cool nights of late help to pump up the fructose levels and man, the trees at Cook’s Orchard (no relation, just friends) look impossibly full this year.

Plus top shelf musicians Livestock would be sharing the stage with local legend Dick Chase. On top of all that promise of fun, I’d just learned of a very small brewery on the other side of the town called Tree House. Open only one day a week, the 40 gallons or so available always sells out before the 6pm closing time.

First thing upon waking, I logged onto the Tree House blog to see what the weekly offerings would be. My pulse picked up a notch when I saw one of the beers available was made with locally grown hops. According to the photo of the blackboard, Local Nugget would be joined by Cascade, and Awesome Autumn Ale on tap.

This got my engine revving. I didn't want to dally and chance missing out on local hops. 

Rising up the side of St. Clair Road, I knew we'd arrived when the narrow and empty street suddenly had cars parked on the side. Looking left, I spotted a nondescript wooden sign and several people milling about a koi pond and enjoying some relaxation in the deck chairs.

Inside the small red barn, several customers stood by the bar that was stacked with 750 milliliter flip top bottles. Three young ladies were busily filling the bottles but kindly offered to pour Suzanne and I a couple flights of the day's selections. 

After placing our snifters on the paddles, Lauren recommended that we work left to right. This fit with the standard tasting format-lighter to darker. Wine tastings tend to go the same way.

On the other hand, I wanted the local hops to be first to my parched tongue, so I started in the middle. I was not disappointed. Local Nugget was thick with lupulin resin like a room with a freshly installed Christmas tree. Pow that's good.

Normally used as a bittering agent, this double IPA did not hit the back of the palate with a lingering bite like many will. When used as a flavoring and aroma ingredient, Nugget tends to be herbal. But here I was loving a floral scent on top of the plunge into an evergreen forest.

As we were sipping along, Suzanne gained permission to noodle around on one of several guitars in the room and Dean Rohan introduced himself as one of the proprietors.

After exhibiting shock that I would ignore protocol and taste my flight out of order, Rohan said the hops were grown in neighboring Warren by a Tree House customer. When he opened the bag, he said the hops "were the most gorgeous."

He added that they went straight into the kettle fresh and wet. I was not surprised given the aromatic density. Still a respectable malt backbone balanced nicely. This fleeting and tiny batch of native hopped beer was a great example of what locally grown ingredients can do. Nugget hops from Warren had characteristics unlike any Nugget I'd ever had, and far better. Why it's better is no mystery at all; local is fresher.

Rohan couldn't linger as new customers continued to pour in, empty bottles in hand or in boxes. A three legged retriever with a red bandana introduced itself next and made clear with wet brown eyes that it was the peanuts in my hand that earned this new friend.

Snifters drained, I asked for another flight, but learned it was one per customer. This being Massachusetts of the arcane liquor laws, I was not surprised. If I wanted more, and I did, I had to pay for a bottle. A $5 deposit on top of an $8 fill would be about normal for a half gallon, but for a 750, it was a bit steep. Still, my cheapness aside, this was truly a one of a kind beer and utterly worth the price. 

As I waited for my order to be filled, I took in the view to the southwest which opens up over the little valley of Chicopee Brook and takes in a ridge line in distant Palmer.

Perched in a copse of trees, a little house worthy of a children's fairy tale nested about 10 feel above the ground. Near the painstakingly manicured koi pond an amusing little replica of a Hobbit hole sparked an image of Bilbo Baggins sitting in his pantry enjoying a frothy mug.
Meanwhile, Rohan and another Tree House employee had begun jamming with Suzanne which provided a rollicking show for the folks waiting patiently for their precious refills.

Finally, bottle of nuggety goodness in hand, we had to depart, and like everything else this time of year, our time at Tree House was naturally fleeting. But we'll be back.