The Daydreaming Blind Rebel

If you’ll indulge me, from time to time I will delve most deeply into my very personal connection with beer. Insodoing I hope to connect with you, the reader, while I share a little about yours truly. Ultimately as well as talking about all things beer I hope to increase awareness of blindness and vision impairment as well.
 

A blind rebel indeed, holding a can of beer at a tram stop in Melbourne. Image shows a vision impaired man wearing sunglasses, holding a can of open beer and holding a white cane beside a tram/bus interchange.

 When I’m not writing, I am a daydreamer. My imagination is so active it could easily be mixed with hot liquor (water) to make wort.

Like so many of you out there I dream of owning and operating my own brewery. But the stark realities of not having a seven-figure bank balance or investors willing to back me with said sum comes crashing in like an unwanted Brettanomyces infection in the brew.

Not to mention the reality that it’s not all glory and no mess.

But you can’t stop me from dreaming about owning, running and brewing at my own brewpub and packaged brewery operation. You can’t stop me imagining that it would be located in Melbourne’s north-east or perhaps even near the as yet to be opened Canning Vale metro station in Perth (close to family and where there is likely a huge gap in the market). And you certainly can’t stop me from dreaming about brewing hype-beast TDH IIPAs, eisbocks brewed with chilli and maple syrup or wheatwines aged in locally produced whiskey barrels.

It would be a middle finger to every perceived notion of what blind and vision impaired people can and cannot do as held by collective society. It would be called Blind Rebel Brewing CoOperative, its slogan: “Walking on the edge of convention”, its primary image stylised footsteps on the wrong side of the yellow line and tactile markings at a train station. 

All in the name of going some way to spreading awareness about blindness and low vision through beer. Because though I can’t change being legally blind and living life in a sighted world, I can change the attitudes of people, misconceptions and accessibility both in the real world and the virtual one.

Alt Text altbier, Tenji Bock helles bock, Seeing Rye Dog red rye IPA, Wit Cane Belgian wheat, APS American peated stout, Beer My Eyes helles lager and of course Braille Ale British strong bitter cask ale would comprise the core range. Puns with a slice of awareness, what’s not to love?

By the way links have been provided at the bottom of this piece so you can learn more about alt text, Tenji blocks, Be My Eyes and the white cane.

Beer is all about community, bringing people together, over history it has helped shape and even save the world. It certainly has the capacity to help blind people integrate with the world and people around them. Thanks to modern and adaptive technologies blind and vision impaired people have never had it easier (the iPhone has enriched my life beyond my wildest imaginings), however there is still a long way to go yet.

Blind Rebel Brewing may be a dream that will never become a reality, but the dream of a better world for the blind and vision impaired is materialising one Tenji block at a time. 

More info about alt text: If you are a website developer, please use it.

Tenji Blocks Google Doodle.
 

APS (Accessible pedestrian signals, which I often refer to as traffic light audible indicators). If you do not have these in your city, write your MP/Congressman/your local road authority!

Be My Eyes.

The white cane: A tool and a talisman for the vision impaired, by Ron McCallum

#whatbeerwednesdays: Episode 3

American amber ale

Continuing BlindTasteTest’s series on beer styles you may have forgotten, let’s take a look at the humble American amber ale.

Autumn, Fall if you will, is descending upon the Southern hemisphere. There are no complaints about the milder temperatures and the sun rising at a civilised hour at this end, and ultimately this is a beer blog - not a weather channel. Plus I’m aiming for an overseas readership as much as a local one.

Anyway, the transitional seasons are perfect times to explore versatile session beers, those beers perfectly suited to 5°C either side of 19°C (or 41°F either side of 66°F). Not hot enough anymore/ yet for sours? The wind chill factor is a ways off/ a growingly distant memory and stouts, porters and strong ales are out of the question?

It is perhaps now the best time to seek the comfort and refreshment of the middle of the road.

But let’s say the good old fashioned American pale ale or even session IPA isn’t doing it for you anymore. You want malty body, you want soul, a bit of a dance of flavour, but still with a certain pronounced citrus driven American/ New World hop character. It’s worth noting the latter rules out many English bitters).

American amber ales might just be what you’re looking for.

They get even better when burgers are thrust onto the stage.

A great Australian example of the amber ale style, a more hoppy one at that, is Exit's Amber ale. Image shows a glass of amber ale with a branded Exit Amber can to just out in front but off to the side a tad for dramatic effect.

American amber ales: What you need to know

Origin: A modern take on the American pale ale which became popular among many US craft breweries.

Etymology: American ambers were for a time also referred to as simply red ales in the Pacific NorthWest during the ‘80s and ‘90s.

Where to find them: Good mainstream bottleshops/ supermarkets (depending on where you live) and independent retailers. It is a fairly common, even mainstream style.

ABV: 4.5-6.2%

Approachability: Very approachable. Because of their even balance between hops and malt American ambers are often seen as “gateway” beers.

Glassware: “ Nonic”pint glass (the sort with the convex protrusion forming a hoop about one-third down) if it’s not too warm. A dimpled mug is also a great option.

Seasonality: Year round, but amazing in milder weather

Serving temperature: 6-8°C (42-46°F). Serve colder if it is on the warmer side of 19°C / 66°F.

American amber ales: A (not so) brief history

Simply put, American amber ales evolved out of American pale ales, themselves inspired by English bitters. (I am a big fan of Sierra Nevada pale ale as it harks back to English strong bitters but with a decidedly Californian sensibility).

Many American beers during the 1970s and ‘80s were born out of British brewing traditions due to the brewing literature available at the time.

American amber ales, or red ales, morphed out of the pale ale style as brewers amped up the malt base with crystal malts (these impart quite caramelly notes) and Continental specialty grains (hearty Munich or Vienna malt) to add colour and depth of flavour.

During the ‘80s many enterprising American breweries slapped together apathetic examples of the emerging amber ale style and gave them woodland critter names so as to cash in on the trend. As ever the market decided and these critters soon retreated back into the undergrowth from whence they came.

 The amber liquid

Sessionable and approachable they may be, American amber ales can be a confusing bunch. The term is almost a catch-all in that there is plenty of overlap. The darkest of pale ales impinge on amber ale territory equalling the palest ambers, while the palest of amber ales can be equal to the darkest of pale ales.

In terms of appearance, we’re talking about a moderate amber to coppery brown hue with a relatively persistent off-white head. Unless dry-hopped to the wazoo, amber ales should also boast an attractive clarity - the sort I hope to leave you with after navigating the murky waters of this intriguing modern style.

As if the style’s colour wasn’t confusing enough, since the ‘80s and ‘90s amber ales have morphed several times over, the style ever evolving. Some examples are known to be as aggressively hopped as American pale ales.

On the other hand, some examples’ malt character masks the hop character almost entirely.

When choosing an amber ale always have a read of the spiel and from there you can generally tell what the beer has in store. Words like “citrus, New World hop character and even simply “hoppy amber” will of course denote a beer whose balance is slightly to the bitter side. “Caramel, toffee, richness, creamy head” suggest you’ll have an amber ale somewhat on the maltier end.

Either way the malt-hop balance sees the pendulum swing not too far in either direction. Any emphatic hoppy zing will have the measuredly caramelly malt to rein it in, while less hoppy versions will most certainly have a characteristic New World hop aroma about them (think citrus, a touch of pine, stone fruit and maybe even some berries).

What they both have in common is their clean American yeast profile, meaning you won’t detect any red apple, pear or other yeast serived aromas and flavours. It’s malt and hops, straight down the line.

Why are American amber ales so awesome?

Few beers could be quite as sessionable as the humble American amber, which is precisely what they are intended to be.

Pale ales can sometimes err on the lean side. Session IPAs, in most cases, are certainly too lean for certain times of the year. American amber ales promise both flavour and refreshment, deliver both, and add in a touch of proper fulfilment for good measure.

American amber ales are better than wine with...

American ambers make for a fantastic table, picnic or barbecue beer, adept at linking arms with all sorts of foods, but where they shine is when they are enjoyed with a hearty cheeseburger or mushroom burger.

Think a toasted bun, the start and the end of any burger experience really. You want something that has enough of a very slightly toasty, malty-rich character to meet it at the centre of the dancefloor.

Then the tango commences. The meat (or indeed mushroom) needs both enough malt for the lead and follow routine before the beer’s hoppy character cuts through and sweeps the burger off its feet.

Caramelised onions heel-toe with the beer’s own caramelly malt notes. We’re looking at a unanimous 10 out of 10 score from the judges here. If bacon is involved, any impression of sweetness from the beer will contrast the saltiness of the meat while the hearty maltiness plays off the fat.

Got pickles? I should bloody well hope so. Hoppier examples of American ambers will further enhance pickles’ cutting and balancing power. Given the beer’s hoppiness and moderate to high carbonation, there is enough there to cut through the beastly richness and refresh the palate (even when salty chips are involved).

 And with that the dance on your palate is over and everyone is applauding.